Thursday, 26 June 2014

An Interweaving

Book One of The Erebus Sequence
July is almost upon us. I have been doing this full-time writer lark for about seventeen months. I have yet to descend into all out eccentricity, but come back in another seventeen months and it may well be a different story. I’ll have married an anteater or opened a theme park like Dollywood. 

I’d have to say the worst bit about being writer so far is the waiting, because publishing moves glacially. That I have a European Union-sized deficit of patience has nothing to do with it. All writers work at different paces and some get stuck and some don’t. Some disappear to write children’s books or video games and some don’t. It’s for this reason I’ve written all three books of The Erebus Sequence. There’s my impatience again. I wrote them because I wanted to discover the ending to my own books. I wrote them to see if I could. I’m not so self-assured to think the first one wasn’t a fluke.

Book two has been sent off to the copy editor. Expect it in February 2015. I like copy editors. They’re the people who stop you going on stage with your flies open, so to speak. Or the back of your dress stuck in your knickers, if you prefer. Book two has more linear plot, less of the back and forth between timelines that dominated The Boy with the Porcelain Blade.

Book three, working title Throne, is with a friend who gave me fantastic and thorough feedback for books one and two. I suspect I will need to buy him a bottle whisky shortly. Handing Throne off meant I had nothing to do, so I plunged into Book four. If you’re reading this there’s a good chance you’re familiar with my work, so you’ll know that each book has a different point of view character. You might also know I am contracted for three books, so Throne needed to have a suitably big finish. Not the full-on Michael-Bay-helicopters-landing-at-sunset-while-stuff-blows-up-ending, but, you know. Big.

Book four could only feel smaller by contrast, but no less important. It takes place a year after book one when Lucien has decided to quit Demesne and head across the island to start his own town. Except the book isn’t about Lucien but a new point of view character who pops up in books two and three as a minor character.

I’ve also written a short story told from Duke Prospero’s point of view in, what I hope, is something akin to a ghost story. It ties up an unresolved plot point of book one while introducing a new character we see in book four – should book four ever see the light of day. I like this interweaving of tales. ‘Every character should want something even if it’s only a glass water,’ says Kurt Vonnegut. My characters certainly do, they all seem to want their own novel, they all want to be heard.

Friday, 20 June 2014

Hubris and Fuckery

'You're being very undude right now.'
It’s tough being the new kid at school. All the other kids know where the classes are, which kids to avoid, which teachers you absolutely do not cross, and which ones are push overs. And there is the thorny issue that new kids get duffed up, either as a sort of hazing by local fuckwits, or as a calculated establishment of pecking order by sly, cruel, mischievous little shits that make everyone’s life miserable.

It’s one thing to beat a kid up on his (or her) first day at school, it’s quite another to carve your name into their forehead with a straight-edge razor. It's the worst sort of grandstanding, designed to cultivate an infamous reputation. It is ugly and unnecessary. 

These thoughts occurred to me today after reading a review of a debut author, a tiny subset of people I identify with strongly. 

A tangent. To quote my Great Aunt Daph, ‘If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything.’ Aunt Daph was a kind, even-handed woman and it's safe to say she never reviewed books. I doubt she read a single genre novel in her life, but I’m willing to bet any number of playground black eyes she could have delivered a more reasonable and constructive review than the review of Barricade at Arcfinity by Christopher Priest.

I expect more from the elder statesmen of genre. That I expect them not to be bullies is a bare minimum. Just because you’re smug and articulate doesn’t make it any less predatory. That you leave the playground with the blood of others staining your shirt is not a badge of honour. It hubris and fuckery.

‘Would I have benefited more from a thoroughgoing kicking from my elders and betters? We’ll never know,’ writes Christopher Priest.

I’d argue yes, it might have taught you not to do the same some years later.

Wednesday, 4 June 2014

What is Super Relaxed Fantasy Club?

The Royal Festival Hall, Southbank, London
A conversation started on Twitter in the dying stages of last year, not long after World Fantasy Con. There was a feeling it would be nice to do something with regards to gatherings where genre types could come and exclaim their love. The majority of the conversation took place between myself and Jen Williams, author of The Copper Promise, Xbox ninja, and all round bad-ass.

It was my feeling (I’m not putting words into Jen’s mouth) that the existing societies had long histories pitted with grudges and shenanigans. They required committee members and proved fertile ground for heated disagreements and clashing egos. I don’t know about you but that sounds like hard work to me.

And so Jen and I founded SRFC. Super Relaxed Fantasy Club. A ridiculous and irreverent name for a new type of night that might escape the slings and arrows of genre politics and just focus on the books. The books aren’t just Fantasy, we cover all types of genre (I did tell you it was a ridiculous name). And because we are decent, nay, downright awesome types, we decided that we would have parity. One male and one female reader each month (sorry, anti-gender binary types, we welcome you too, get in touch). Readings are short and followed by a Q&A . There is of course booze, because publishing.

Another feature of SRFC is that everybody gets an introduction. It doesn’t matter if you’re a bookseller, editor, agent, published author, fledgling author, passionate reader, or veteran reviewer. Everyone is welcome and no one is more important than anyone else. We are united by a love of the fantastic, the weird, the speculative, the horrific, the spooky. Everyone gets to say ‘Hi’ and feel like they’re part of the gang.

We’re proud to have featured Sophia McDougall, Kim Curran, Scott Andrews, Chris Brosnahan, Richard Kellum, Zen Cho and selection of others who escape my failing memory. We’ve had five iterations now and draw a good crowd. We meet on the last Tuesday of each month at the Royal Festival Hall on the 3rd floor (Green side) from about 6.30pm. Maybe you’ll be there next time – join the Facebook Group HERE.