Jack Binding's Blog, page 6

Short & Long

So I’ve been working on this novel.

The first draft is almost finished. It’s rough and raw. I’ve used two alternating narrators, sort of like Gone Girl, although I actually took the idea from Success by Martin Amis (worth a read if you like misanthropic tragedy).

Unlike most of my short stories, in this WIP, there is a clear protagonist and a clear antagonist. Writing a nice character in first person isn’t something that comes naturally to me (if you’ve met me IRL, you’ll understand). But once I started on it, once I worked out their personality, they became less of a dull cypher with which to drive the story and they grew into their own, quite interesting person. I like my protagonist so much I’m even considering not killing her off.

Another thing I’m pleased with is that there is tension. By switching narrators, you can make it a wonderful game of cat and mouse. You can also add Easter Eggs within the story. For example, a scene set in the same place, at the same time, but told from two different points of view.

Do I prefer writing short stories? Tough to say.

A short story is like knocking back a shot of tequila. There ain’t much room for subtly. A swift blow to the gut and then onto the next one.

Writing a novel is like a fine wine. I’m not much of a connoisseur, but I imagine when people say wine has hints of beetroot or petrol or whatever, it can be likened to the depth and layers you can give a novel (unless you’re James Patterson, of course, in which case the analogy here is necking a pint of Tesco Value vodka).

Right now I’m using the short stories as a palette cleanser.

You can become a little myopic whilst writing a novel. It’s nice to take a step back every now and then. Plus, there’s so much death, heartbreak and bleakness in the novel that my short stories seem kind of light in comparison. I mean it’s still blackly funny (at least I think it is), but the villain is so horrible, that I get a little weary if I spend too long wallowing in his mind.

I think Perfect Anastasia will be the last thing I’ll put out of a while. I want to concentrate on finishing the novel and getting this collection of short stories together (so far there are about 25, about 15 of which are good-to-go).

I also have a science fiction thing I’m working on, but that’s a whole other blog entry, a whole different thing.

And there’s the cocktail book, but … well …

Shit.

Sometimes, you know, I wish my brain would just shut the fuck up and give me some peace.

All I really want to do is drink Scotch and listen to Mazzy Star.

 

 

Snowflakes & Libtards & Being Triggered

Part of embracing the sticky world of self-promotion is having a Twitter account. And Twitter, as I’m sure you well know, is where common sense and rationality go to die.

It makes sense, really. It’s huge. 320 million active users. And only 50% of those are sex spambots trying to get you to sign up to some sort of diet Ashley Maddison website (anonymity 100% guaranteed. Honest, guv).

So you have all of those people shouting at each other in 160 characters or less.

Perhaps the one thing I’ve learnt from Twitter is this: There are a lot of fucking assholes in the world.

A few months back, I found myself in a little fracas with some bloke. Englishman, like me (and despite calling someone on his timeline a ‘paki’, he was adamant that he was not a racist). It was about Brexit, so it was a touchy little subject.

Anyway, do you know the amount of shit I received from him and his weirdly obsessive followers?

Christ.

Snowflake. Libtard. Triggered.

Hang on a minute. Because you can’t reply with a cohesive argument, you’re relenting to name calling?

Fucking hell. What’s wrong with the world?

 

So let’s break down the terminology here, because some of this shit is not okay –

Libtard

Liberal retard. Is it the ’90s still? Are we really using the word retard as an insult? How about Libstic? Liberal Spastic. Let’s just use that instead? Spastic’s okay right? Acceptable?

What’s so bad about being liberal? Surely having tolerance and an open mind are good things?

I dunno.

Snowflake

My friend the Urban Dictionary tells me a snowflake is:

An overly sensitive person that doesn’t take criticism well.

You read Donald Trump’s Twitter recently?

Besides, politics are important. If people weren’t impassioned about shit like that, the entire world would be some sort of totalitarian nightmare. Kind of like The Federation in Blake’s 7 only with worse hair.

Although, interestingly, at the end of the second season of Blake’s 7, the Federation is destroyed by aliens from another galaxy. Probably Muslims.

Anyway, here’s a little clip of Servalan. Just because.

 

Triggered

Well that’s nice, ain’t it? You’re comparing a person’s emotional response to something (usually political) to PTSD. Have you ever suffered from PTSD? Perhaps we can sort you out a nice life-changing traumatic event, so you actually know what a ‘trigger’ is, you disgusting fucking asshole.

Now I’m not some sort of hemp-trousered hippie who lives in a commune in Hamburg. I used to wear suit every day and work in a high-rise office block in London’s CBD. I have a fucking portfolio of stocks and shares for Christ’s sake.

There is condescension from the left, just as there is condescension from the right. I once wrote this little line to describe a character:

He was the sort of pious Guardian-reading asshole who would’ve snorted organic cocaine if such a thing existed.

 

But when I log into Twitter to promote one of my (really quite excellent) short stories and, out of morbid curiosity (can’t help it), I scroll through a slew of dumb insults, I get mad (a triggered librard, I guess you could say).

I’m happy to engage in healthy conversation with people. Debate is wonderful. Slinging names because you’re a fucking idiot who can’t prove a point is a waste of my time.

There’s also a notion that I should just concentrate on writing and shut the hell up about politics.

Don’t alienate you fans, Jack.

Fuck ’em.

Bob Dylan.

I’m entitled to my opinion. Which is this: If you think some pussy grabbing prick who lives in the penthouse of a golden tower in Manhattan is going to save your country and look after the little people, you’re seriously fucking mistaken. It’s like he’s read 1984 and thought it was one of those Dummy’s Guide books.

Over and out.

 

 

PERFECT ANASTASIA OUT TODAY!

BUY PERFECT ANASTASIA NOW!

99p/99c
DRUGS ARE BAD!

This is the PERFECT scary short story to sober you up for life.

Andy Moretti doesn’t have much luck with girls. But tonight, things are different. Tonight he’s met beautiful Anastasia. And she’ll go home with him, too. On one condition: Andy Moretti picks up drugs for her.

It’s simple enough. Just jump into the dealer’s car and exchange the money for the merchandise.

What could go wrong?

This short horror story is part gritty urban psychological thriller, part surreal dreamscape. It is a frightening tale of lust, unrequited love and excess deep within contemporary London’s black, beating heart.

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(How’s my ‘marketing strategy’ working out, eh?)

Popular

I’m starting to get strategic with these releases now. I must admit, tying to add ‘marketing strategies’ and ‘planning’ to something artistic never sits well with me, but it’s one of those things I just have to suck up and get on with.

So I have Perfect Anastasia coming out tomorrow (you pre-ordered it yet?*), and I thought on the two days running up to it, I’d run a free promo on Property.

‘Market exposure’, right?

Property’s currently doing quite well review-wise. People seem to rate it a little less than Dot Matrix (probably because it’s so bleak and introspective), but those who do like it, really seem to enjoy the story.

Anyway, I was expecting the promotion to shift a few free copies to whoever the fuck was vaguely interested. C’est la vie etc.

What I was not expecting was this:

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Yeah, that’s right. #1 in the top free Kindle horror shorts. (That’s for he US store, btw.)

I suppose a couple of reviews and altering my product description to include a bunch of keywords did the trick.

Fuck.

I guess I’m doing something right.

Is it time to get my Twitter verified yet?

 

Right, I’m off to gaze at myself in the mirror now, so I’ll leave you, dear subjects, with the video of Nada Surf’s Popular.

 

*How’s my ‘marketing strategy’ working out?

Geotargeting Kindle Links

I didn’t even know what GeoTargeting was until the other day.

In my eagerness to simply get shit out, I hadn’t looked underneath every virtual rock to see if there was a way to create a link to my books that took a person to a specific Amazon store based on their location. I thought you’d have to provide separate links for each region.

What an idiot.

Of course the nerds have figured out a way to overcome this. They always do. If I think ‘Hmmm, surely there should be a way to do such-and-such,’ usually there is. Usually somebody much smarter than me has already identified and solved that particular problem.

So kids, without further ado, if you want to GeoTarget the links to your Kindle releases, just pop the URL to the book’s page into this website:

https://affiliate-geo-target.com/amazon.html

It’ll generate a link below it and you can use that to direct your millions of readers to the correct site.

For example, here’s the link to Perfect Anastasia

http://a-fwd.com/asin-uk=B01MQPAKXB&asin-com=B01N255D4M

If you click it and you’re in Germany, it should direct you to Amazon.de. If you’re in France Amazon.fr

You get the idea.

Anyway, I thought that was a pretty neat trick, so I want to share it with you.

And now seeing as Perfect Anastasia‘s only a few days from release, why not pre-order yourself a copy?

It’s a surreal little tale of lust and addiction, laced with my black humour and all the usual crap I like to write about.

It’s good, I assure you. Winky emoticon.

Future Plans

I suspect my current lack of 9-5 bullshit (and regular pay check) is partially down to an unwillingness to step back into the office again and partially down to the fact that I didn’t go to a private school in Mosman.

Whatever the reason, it’s giving me so much valuable time to write.

Later this year (although not too much later if I keep going like this) I plan on releasing a compilation of short stories. I like to think of it as the album to the singles I have already released.

There will be around twenty or so tales in the thing, anything from 300 – 10,000 words long. I’m about halfway through putting it all together. I cover all the classics – spiders, creepy kids, self immolation, autoerotic asphyxiation. It’ll be a tasteful literary masterpiece. They’ll no doubt discuss it in creative writing classes all over the world.

There is a title, of course, but I won’t spoil you too much with details today. I’ll simply leave it there and get back to actual writing rather than blogging.

New Story Out Next Week

A little over a week ’til Perfect Anastasia is out.

14th Feb, to be precise.

Haven’t bought your loved one a cuddly toy? Fuck it. Download Perfect Anastasia and read it to them whilst you’re snuggled up in bed. It’s the Perfect (get it?) little story to spoon to on Valentine’s Day.

Andy Moretti doesn’t have much luck with girls. But tonight, things are different. Tonight he’s met Anastasia. And she’ll go home with him, too. On one condition: Andy Moretti picks up drugs for her.

It seems simple enough. Just jump into the dealer’s car and exchange the money for the merchandise. But the moment Andy steps into the passenger seat, the night takes a sinister turn …

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Drugs

Today, children, Uncle Jack would like to talk to you about drugs.

If you’ve had the genuine pleasure of reading one or more of my short stories (links to their respective Amazon pages in the Bibliography if you would to join the party), you’ll probably notice that most of them contain drugs references. Some, such as Dot Matrix, are subtle (Cuntley has a coke problem) and some, such as Twenty-Seven or the new one, Perfect Anastasia are overt.

I was looking at this old dystopian sci-fi thing I was writing and, Christ, that one is positively coated in cocaine. Here’s the opening scene:

Starlight peeks through the transparent roof of The Rack Lounge. I’m sat in VIP a booth, rubbing crumbs into my gums, alone – Porter’s late again.

I pick up the dusty mirror and gaze into it.

Something’s missing.

My hairline’s perfectly straight, positioned far enough back as not to distract from my beautiful face, but not so far back I appear receding. My ears, like the hands holding the mirror, are a new acquisition. Ears and noses are mainly cartilage and those fuckers never stop growing; if a person has any respect for themselves, they’ll replace their ears and their nose at least once a year.

I flash a smile at myself. Bright, uniformed veneers. Are they twinkling?

It’s probably just the coke.

And I was wondering – is it all a little gratuitous?

I suppose you have to ask these questions of yourself every now and then. For example, is there too much swearing in my writing? (The answer to which is a resounding Fuck no.)

Well here are my thoughts.

Real Life

I never want to imply drugs are good. But I don’t ever want to preach that they’re bad. Enough people feel the need to force their views on such things down your throat. You don’t need me doing that, too. And besides, I’m sure you’re all smart enough to make up your own minds.

One thing that is undeniable, however, is that they are there. They are a thing. 

Especially in my life.

I’ve worked in such industries as music (druggy), fashion (really druggy) and investment banking (insanely druggy). So for me, a person snorting a line of cocaine or taking a pill is a pretty standard event.

(Ironically, I favour the booze. Which can occasionally make me a bit of a damp squib at parties. Alcohol is still a drug, though, so more on that later.)

What I’m trying to say is that for many of my characters, drugs are just an everyday thing.

I’m not trying to be “cool” and I’m certainly not trying to be preachy. I’m just trying to be realistic. Because when you’re writing scary shit, part of frightening the reader is making it believable. Horror with no grounding in reality is ineffective.

What is a drug?

Enjoy that triple venti soy latte this morning? You fucking junkie.

And you make me sick sipping that Aperol Spritz.

Have a little headache? Just pop a couple of paracetamol tablets, Sid Vicious.

There’s the feeling that whatever is legal is okay and whatever is illegal is bad. But what about weed? Correct me if I’m wrong, my American friends, but I believe weed is now legal in 8 states. I’m sure many more will legalise it in the near future.

I was in Colorado a few years ago and it seemed perfectly acceptable to talk about it and smoke it and not be judged. I wonder if that would be the same in, say, Texas? Let me know in the comments if you can fill in the blanks for me.

(Personally, I can’t stand the stuff. Makes me paranoid and lasts forever.)

Anyway. Drugs. Pretty fucking broad spectrum there.

Are drugs bad?

Yes. Yes drugs are bad. From a health perspective, drugs are bad.

Psychologically, well, I suppose that depends.

Are SSRIs bad for people with depression?

Is Ritalin (essentially speed) bad for kids with ADHA.

Is marijuana bad for an old lady with arthritis?

By the time I was thirty, three people I had known had died from overdoses. (Is it any wonder I’m drawn to horror over all other genres?) They were mostly sweet, pretty, dumb kids I knew from music or fashion circles who started taking heroin. It always seemed that once people crossed that boundary to intravenous narcotics, they would seldom come back to real life. They were gone forever.

(Personally, I’m squeamish with needles, so I’ve never ventured down that particular rabbit hole. And as I said, I’m a drinker. Although these days it’s the nicer stuff like a nice pinot noir or single malt Scotch. Gone are my days of drinking £1.99 bargain basement wine from the offie.)

But if you think it’s just heroin and coke people die from, check out my new favourite website, CaffeineInformer.com for many grisly stories about the dangers of caffeine.

Glamour

There’s this notion, particularly regarding cocaine, that drugs are glamorous. Seeing those papped photos of Kate Moss racking up does nothing to detract from it.

If it’s good enough for Kate, it’s good enough for me.

But there’s not much glamour in staying awake for twenty-four hours and talking bullshit to strangers (all of which will come flooding back in a sea of regret the next morning).

There’s not much glamour in scraping a few crumpled twenty pound notes together and jumping into some stranger’s car.

Drugs are not glamorous.

Double-standards

You know when you’re on Twitter and you read something like:

Can’t FUNCTION without my morning cup of coffee 

Time

For once, I have time.

I will get myself a proper job here in Sydney at some point, but right now there’s nothing much out there. This place closes down between the start of December and the end of January. We’re currently halfway through the first real working week of 2017 in Australia.

And while it might be nice to have a bit of cash coming in, it’s also very nice to have the time to write.

So far I’ve drafted about a third of my first novel (if you think my short stories are bleak, wait until you get a load of the full length JB). Curiously, though, there’s no supernatural horror in it. It’s kind of a thriller, I suppose. And the villain is my most wonderful creation to date. Thoroughly evil, yet, like all the best villains, you kind of root for him. So far his name is Milford Vance, but that might change throughout the editing process.

I’ve also completed about four or five short stories. I’m in a real rhythm now.

The only thing that puts me off my stride are those pesky recruitment consultants calling me up and trying to get me into the city for an interview with some bullshit company or other. They seem to be intent on fitting square pegs into round holes. But you just have to be hard with them, the same way you’d handle an estate agent. Or a feral dog.

I have the luxury of being a little choosy with jobs now (a trait I wish I’d applied to my love life in my twenties).

Of course there will be a time (later this month, I suspect), when I will have to don a suit and comb my hair and wander into an office and pretend I like sport to a bunch of strangers I have nothing in common with. But until then, I’m am just enjoying the moment.

Anyway, I was planning on putting some sort of short story collection out late 2017, but at this rate, it might be a little sooner. That’ll be nice, eh?

But it all depends on when I start working again.

Perhaps I should have a shave.

(Note: Here’s something amusing for you all, considering today’s fucked-up political climate: I am technically an immigrant.)

 

Dot Matrix FREE (for 48 hours)

Uh-oh! It’s #Promo time again.

My first short story, released way back in October 2016 (when the world was a nicer place) is #FREE for the next 48 hours.

If you feel so inclined, pop a review on Amazon or Goodreads too.

Smiley face emoticon.

Here’s the blurb:

HATE YOUR BOSS? 

Sometimes think it’d be better if they weren’t around? Well, let the Dot Matrix help you achieve workplace harmony by dispatching of those troublesome individuals.

Elements of horror and psychological thriller combine with a witty narrative to deliver a fast-pasted, scary short story set in London’s Square Mile.