Aaron Polson's Blog, page 64

The Power of the Interweb

Every time something like the brouhaha over the pay rate at Black Matrix Publishing rears its ugly mug, I'm reminded of the power of the InterwebTM. (for a nice POV on said brouhaha, check out L.R. Bonehill's blog)

John Scalzi brought the fight to Black Matrix on his Whatever blog, claiming, in part, to be a watchdog for the little guy, pointing out publishers that are taking advantage of them...er, me. I've been paid less than Black Matrix's stated rate...hell, I've given my work away in the ...

Casualties

Two boys with toy rifles crawl through a drainage ditch at the far end of the high school practice field. The fog smudges distant buildings into blots of ink. Both boys stop and gaze out of the ditch.

"They're coming," says the taller of the two, a ten-year-old with too much black hair in a curly heap on top of his head. He rolls over, digs into the cargo pocket of his pants, and draws out a roll of black electrical tape.

"All right, Jack. Who is it this time?" The other boy, thin enough to sli...

WIP Wednesday: Quick and Dirty

After the introspective spew of the last two posts, here's something quick and dirty. Loathsome rewrites are done, and I'm damned pleased with the book. Yeah, it's short (after one more round of edits I'm expecting 68K), but it's tasty. I stayed up to finish last night because the final third propelled me to do so. I guess that's a plus for a climax, eh?

My favorite exchange in the the whole book (spoilers abound, but you know you're going to read anyway):

"I've seen things, Mr. Barlow....

The Dream

Or delusion. I guess it depends on your perspective.

After yesterday's post, I thought I needed a little introspection. What drives me?

Let's start with some history. I once was an art student. Well, okay...art therapy. I wanted to work with troubled kids, make some art, express--all that. Then "they" started telling me what to make (note the difference between what and how). This is where my punk rock sensibility came into play. (it's small, but in there)

I'm all for teaching. But what is diffe...

A Little Light in a Dark Room

This is what I've learned:

1. Most of my "readers" are also writers. The situation will likely remain this way until "big commercial success".

2. "Big commercial success" isn't what I thought it was. Like the proverbial kid who dreams of NBA millions, I fell for the illusion of the Kings, Grishams, and Pattersons of the world.

3. The publishing industry is designed to "discover" the best sales representatives for their work. This may or may not coincide with transcendent (or at least thought-pro...

Sometimes, They Don't Come Back

Sometimes they come back on time. We sort them, plop them in place on the cart, and ship them back to the shelves to be handled and picked over. But too often, they're overdue. Occasionally they show up with a handful of coins. No note. No "sorry". Others never pay their fines; we just find the books in the outside bin.

After they've been gone for a long time, the pages are usually creased and wrinkled, the corners bent—even on sturdy, library bound specimens, and all too often they have water...

Thankful

It's Thanksgiving in the U.S., and while I take a break between shoving the turkey in the oven and peeling potatoes, I want to express my thanks.

To my family, for being there, as a jab in my side when I need one or a rib-crushing hug.

To my job. Thanks. It's nice to have a steady paycheck and a career that fills me up.

To the world. You know why. The mystery and wonder you share is pretty damn special. Even when I'm scared (like in the dark).

To the InterwebTM for brining me in contact with a...

WIP Wednesday: Getting My Hands Dirty

Loathsome has some kinks, but I'm rolling up my sleeves and pushing my fingers into the mud. It's a helluva lot of fun right now. I just edited the first big attack from the Ruined Men. Good stuff.

I like this excerpt because it reveals a little about some of my characters (before the attack, they've just found a body on the beach with its throat torn out):

"Oh?" I pushed the brass gadget into my pocket. "We have what choice, Mr. Olson?"

Olson looked down the line at each man in...

What I Owe Boris Karloff

As a senior in high school during the fall of 1992, I purchased a copy of Frankenstein (1931) on VHS. I was on an extending field trip (3 days and 2 nights), and didn't watch the film until returning home. I'd grown up with the monster series from Crestwood Studios, but had never seen the film.

I have always been a fan of dark things. Even though doing so brought nightmares, I watched Nightmare on Elm Street and Friday the 13th with my neighbors, the Sullivans. We played silly games in the bas...

Things Ruinous, Things Unexpected

If you haven't heard already, the magnificent Arkham Tales #5 is out, but dead on arrival. This will be their last issue. My short story, "Little Fingers", scheduled for a future issue, is now an orphan. But don't weep for her. Weep for good, weird fiction. Arkham Tales always provided a solid read. Head over and download the whole archive if you haven't already.

I dove editor-first into Loathsome, Dark, and Deep this weekend. I like it. The challenge...finding a publisher/agent for a weird, s...