Andrew McEwan's Blog: Words Are the Gravy On the Mashed Potato of Life - Posts Tagged "kittens"
Cover To Cover
There are bloggers and there are bloggers. And then there are non-bloggers like me, mere after-the-fact word-spinners with only a rhythm in mind, a sculptural beat. We Know Not What We Write writers who hope mid-paragraph to discover a meaning, metaphor/shape.
Confused?
You can only do what you do. If your doings don't appeal, well, they are not undone. Merely suspended in time and space. That is: unread.
Still confused? Me too.
But enough of that. I've been concentrating a lot lately on ebook covers. A good cover is worth its weight in pixels it seems. And I don't disagree. They are fucking hard to get right though. On the plus side you can easily update a cover online. On the down side a bad cover will condemn your words to the realm of indifference, for they will be overlooked.
(see above)
Being skint, impatient and not owed any favours, all but two of my ebook covers are my own work. I say work, but that's stretching the point. They are lacklustre and lazy. I am trying hard to redeem myself but find I'm running into an old problem: talent falls short of imagination. A younger incarnation of myself fought a pen at school but his handwriting was always shit. Similarly, that same boy had a head full of pictures he found it impossible to delineate. Haphazard, thirty second cartoons I can rattle off; with captions. Detailed, intricate drawings of spectacular three-dimensional landscapes? Forget it.
Thus do I write!
Anyway, I bought a graphics tablet and have married this to SketchBook Express, which is excellent and free. I mean to try it with the equally free Gimp, but having previously downloaded that app my then computer crashed. I have since upgraded the hardware but as I type not relaunched. Which is besides the point. Layers! Yes, I have figured that much out. Each image on a different plane. Sounds familiar somehow...
In summary I'm experimenting and learning at the same time. This is how things should be. Most things at least.
Pencilled in for 2013 is a relaunch of Ocellus and the first rendition of The Orange Propeller, jacketed as befits twins of a peculiar bent, glorious in colour schemes to make the goddess blush.
That they might be read.
That is, stripped.
Confused?
You can only do what you do. If your doings don't appeal, well, they are not undone. Merely suspended in time and space. That is: unread.
Still confused? Me too.
But enough of that. I've been concentrating a lot lately on ebook covers. A good cover is worth its weight in pixels it seems. And I don't disagree. They are fucking hard to get right though. On the plus side you can easily update a cover online. On the down side a bad cover will condemn your words to the realm of indifference, for they will be overlooked.
(see above)
Being skint, impatient and not owed any favours, all but two of my ebook covers are my own work. I say work, but that's stretching the point. They are lacklustre and lazy. I am trying hard to redeem myself but find I'm running into an old problem: talent falls short of imagination. A younger incarnation of myself fought a pen at school but his handwriting was always shit. Similarly, that same boy had a head full of pictures he found it impossible to delineate. Haphazard, thirty second cartoons I can rattle off; with captions. Detailed, intricate drawings of spectacular three-dimensional landscapes? Forget it.
Thus do I write!
Anyway, I bought a graphics tablet and have married this to SketchBook Express, which is excellent and free. I mean to try it with the equally free Gimp, but having previously downloaded that app my then computer crashed. I have since upgraded the hardware but as I type not relaunched. Which is besides the point. Layers! Yes, I have figured that much out. Each image on a different plane. Sounds familiar somehow...
In summary I'm experimenting and learning at the same time. This is how things should be. Most things at least.
Pencilled in for 2013 is a relaunch of Ocellus and the first rendition of The Orange Propeller, jacketed as befits twins of a peculiar bent, glorious in colour schemes to make the goddess blush.
That they might be read.
That is, stripped.
Did I Say That?
Greetings, friends and aliens! How are you this fine day? It's been a while. I've been busy. Okay, sort of busy. In fact, I've been holding my breath.
After four months and a full MS request I got a rejection this morning. Pah. The book was THUMP, and the agent shall remain nameless; but now that's done and dusted I feel...liberated. My last post was in September. Wow, look what I was doing in September. Not pretty. The whole depression/medication business came to nothing. I'm pleased about this. Goes to prove you shouldn't listen to other people's ideas about your mental health. You should cut down your drinking instead.
Naturally, I've taken up whiskey. There is logic in this, believe me. In terms of units a glug of Scotch is higher on the sensible scale than three cans of strong lager. There're only 28 units of alcohol in a 750cl bottle. That's like ten day's worth of allowable units and a bottle lasts me a month.
My sanity aside (and I'm feeling chipper today, thanks) I have actually been doing a lot of writing. THUMP vol. 1 is out in paperback, too. The 2nd volume is a third written and I currently have a giveaway running on Goodreads whereby you can get your grubby digits on a signed copy of Armwrestling the Dead completely for nowt. I do need to work on my profile, however. Expose myself more, if you will. I'll never be everyone's mug of choice, but my audience is there, lurking. I just need to coax you forth.
So it's back to the literary anarchist's chalkboard. Me selling out is put on hold.
Remember, you kick ass, you never kiss it.
Happy, kittens?
After four months and a full MS request I got a rejection this morning. Pah. The book was THUMP, and the agent shall remain nameless; but now that's done and dusted I feel...liberated. My last post was in September. Wow, look what I was doing in September. Not pretty. The whole depression/medication business came to nothing. I'm pleased about this. Goes to prove you shouldn't listen to other people's ideas about your mental health. You should cut down your drinking instead.
Naturally, I've taken up whiskey. There is logic in this, believe me. In terms of units a glug of Scotch is higher on the sensible scale than three cans of strong lager. There're only 28 units of alcohol in a 750cl bottle. That's like ten day's worth of allowable units and a bottle lasts me a month.
My sanity aside (and I'm feeling chipper today, thanks) I have actually been doing a lot of writing. THUMP vol. 1 is out in paperback, too. The 2nd volume is a third written and I currently have a giveaway running on Goodreads whereby you can get your grubby digits on a signed copy of Armwrestling the Dead completely for nowt. I do need to work on my profile, however. Expose myself more, if you will. I'll never be everyone's mug of choice, but my audience is there, lurking. I just need to coax you forth.
So it's back to the literary anarchist's chalkboard. Me selling out is put on hold.
Remember, you kick ass, you never kiss it.
Happy, kittens?
Words Are the Gravy On the Mashed Potato of Life
...there may be lumps in either or both.
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