K.A. Laity's Blog, page 127

Now in Print: Drunk on the Moon

Yes, it's true: Drunk on the Moon is now available in print, too. Those of you who've been putting off getting it because you don't read them fancy ebook whatchamajiggers can now retire to your boudoirs with a good ol' paperback of Mr B and the pack.



Here's a silly thing I wrote back in the day for Mr B's blog when I first wrote "It's a Curse":



In the Mind of the Wolf



 
When Mr B asked me if I wanted to contribute to the Drunk on the Moon series, I knew I had to get into the head of the werewolf. How could I write from Roman Dalton's perspective if I had not lived in his world? I had to know him from the inside out. I immediately set up a plan to immerse myself in the wolf mind. I set my plan in motion leading up to the full moon.



 
DAY ONE



 
I listened to The Fall non-stop, The Infotainment Scam. Not only had I chosen the song "It's a Curse" as my touchstone, but I knew the hypnotic drone of Mark E. Smith's voice and the grinding pummeling of the music would help me reach the altered state I sought. After twenty-four hours without food or drink, just the steady beat on repeat I was feeling the effects. My hair grew, my nails sharpened. I began to drool. Right on schedule.



 
DAY TWO



 
I moved outside; the wolf must be wild. Fortunately I live right above a park. There's not much land, but there are hedges along the edge that I thought might provide enough cover for me. I crouched in the green border and watched the people. They were my prey. I had to know their weaknesses. They had many. And few defences. But as the sun set, they thinned out. Also, there was too much broken glass and SuperMac wrappers in the hedges. I needed another hunting ground.



 
DAY THREE



 
I moved to the cemetery. There was more cover there and since I had ripped off my clothes I needed to stay warm. Winter is harsh on the wolf. I chewed on a bone to sharpen my teeth. Despite my focus, they were not sufficiently lethal yet. The dead were good company. However, there was a shortage of victims. Perhaps a disaster of some kind would provide more fodder for the chase.



 
DAY FOUR



 
Memory sketchy. Trees scratchy. Dirt cold. Throat sore from howling. Running so far, so far. There were others. I was not alone. Something squeaked. Older woman made hand signals at me, sketching a five-pointed star. Bite marks on my flesh. I may have grown a tail, not sure.



 
DAY FIVE: FULL MOON



 
Blood. Flesh. Teeth. Profiteroles.



 
DAY SIX: RECOVERY



 
I returned indoors. Dressed and ate food that I had not killed myself. Got the computer out. Typed madly, in a trance. Remember nothing. Grammar inexcusable. Older woman reappeared; asking for recommendations of internet suppliers. Emailed story to Mr B. Slept for fourteen hours. Filed nails. Applied moisturizer. Brushed teeth. Remembered to use cutlery. Started a new story. Buried bones. Write more...

Writer Wednesday: Recommended

From pal Samuel Walker on Facebook: Dublin street art. What a great idea! I may need to do something similar. Hmmm, QR codes on promo postcards? Might be the way to go. You have checked out the QR code on the sidebar, right? Scroll down.



I thought today I would point you toward some things you ought to try from people I can heartily recommend. I keep saying the future of the internet belongs to "sifters": people who will sort through the dreck out there to show you the gold. So here we go:










I first knew Anne Billson from her sharp and insightful reviews of films; I don't always agree with her, but I would rush to read what she had to say about films like The Thing; reading her BFI book on that film kept me enraptured to the end of the Central Line, which fortunately was my destination that day. Then I realised she was the same Anne Billson who wrote Suckers. Want a different spin on vamps that's also delicious satire? Try it. Try all her books.











Mr B + Luca Veste + money goes to charity x good causes = what are you waiting for? Do you need to know it's got some of the best Brit Grit writers around? Well, it does. Get stuck in.











Another good cause: Vic Watson put this together. "The 'I Am Woman' campaign is about using our voices to help other women.
To raise awareness of women across the planet who have in effect 'lost
their voice' or had it taken away either through, fear, abuse, illness
or war. We must speak for them until they can do it for themselves." Click on the picture for more.



 Don't forget: the 99¢ you pay for Burning Bridges on Amazon also goes to charity, and for the rest of May, Matt Hilton is siphoning off profits for ACTION: Pulse Pounding Tales to give to Help for Heroes.



Here's a lot of writers who take it upon themselves to do some good in the world and stand up for what's right. To their own cost in most cases: writers don't make much money, especially when you consider how long it takes to write a novel or even a short story. You write because you can't not write: and you give what you can because you can't not do that, too.



And all you Americans who think North Carolina's vote is "not your problem"
-- please remember history: discrimination does not disappear of its own accord.





"Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere."

-- MLK "Letter from Birmingham Jail," 16 April 1963

Tuesday's Overlooked A/V: Algol

Pressed for time, so I'm pointing you to a sublime blog called Strange Flowers, who has a write up of an absolutely amazing film, Algol: Tragödie der Macht (or is it Nacht? That's what the title cards say) which is Algol: Tragedy of Power (or Night). UPDATE: James confirms that other references to the film use Macht, so the title card is likely wrong. More fitting for the theme anyway.



Wow, just wow: an SF German silent that pre-dates Metropolis by seven years and features the amazing decadent Sebastian Droste. Do yourself a favour and read the whole write-up, then watch the film. I'm still making my way through; I cheated and watched the last reel so I could see Droste dance. I think you can make your way through it fairly well even if your German isn't that good; that's the beauty of silent films. Watch out for the eye of the devil!







As always, check the round-up of overlooked gems over at Sweet Freedom. And if you want a preview of what I was up to yesterday, take a gander here (you may need to be logged into Facebook but it's a public album).

Biscuits & Pillowman

Short fiction: there's something fun about it. An idea from head to page in a flash and then -- at least sometimes -- on to publication. Here's my story "Biscuits" that I wrote for a contest. I got it back with the note that while some of the judges had voted for me I did not win. Them's the breaks. I can deal. I'm just happy to share the story and grateful to the Short Humour Site for wanting to share it.



Saturday night the club down below in my Ballardian dwelling was a bit too loud so I went to bed in the guest room. Now, how lucky am I that I have a guest room to use? But the bed in it is not as cuddly as my own bed. So after going to bed around one am or so, I woke at half three suddenly. Why?



The Pillowman.



I had a picture in my head of him hiding in the wardrobe. I have to say, I should probably blame Mildred for mentioning the play recently because the students put on a production at IU. Although I suppose I should really blame the Houston Stage production that put that very image in my head years ago -- because it stayed there and came out to haunt me that night.



That's brilliant.



I crawled back to my own bed and went back to sleep. It was all right. But such power -- I want to write stories that do that. Okay, maybe not stories that frighten, but stories that awe. And stay with you even years later. Oh yes.



I'm off on travels this bank holiday Monday. News when I return.

Six Sentence Sunday: Chickens

My latest publication is another crime story: yes, that seems to be my groove now. I'm even going to the Theakstons Old Peculier Crime Writing Festival in July the better to network and immerse myself in the crime writing world. Should be fun, eh?



My story "Chickens" takes place in 1968, when a couple of Bakersfield irregulars decide to leave the farm behind and go mess with some hippies, the phenomenon they've learned about from watching the nightly news with the elder statesman of television, Walter Cronkite. Bonus appearance by Cal Worthington and his dog Spot!

I killed all the chickens the day I left. I'd have preferred to kill Maw but I wasn't ready at the time for a crime of such proportions and besides, I was looking forward to saying to Bud with a laugh, "I spent the morning chokin' chickens!" because I knew he'd laugh like he always does in that hee-haw kind of way. Maw always said he was half ass anyway (the only funny thing she ever said in her miserable life that I can recall) but I forgot to tell him because he was so excited about buggin' out to the smoggy wonderland.


"We're gonna get some girls," Bud said, hee-hawing a mile a minute as we pulled away from their farm. Dawn in Bakersfield, the most uninspiring sight a body can see anywhere in this great nation I am sure. The golden light just cast a beautiful glow on the stunted fields and ugly houses of mile after mile of failing farms and subsidized indolence...

Matt Hilton edited this monster-sized anthology -- nearly 300 pages of non-stop mayhem, including folks like my pal Mr B and Richard Godwin, Absolutely Kate, Col Bury, David Barber, Graham Smith and many many more. Chock full of action, just like it says on the tin -- er, cover. Vol 2 already in the planning stages. This is going to be big!



As usual, drop by to see all the Six Sunday offerings.

Reviews: Guerilla Blues & Beowulf

Guerrilla Blues

Alessandra Bava





People tend to think writers give their friends good reviews because they're pals; the truth is you become friends with people who write stories or poems that inspire you to be better, to do more, to aim for dizzying heights. My jester -- the poet of Rome -- Alessandra's new collection offers wonderful evidence of that. Inspired by poets and revolutionaries the poems converse with everyone from Che Guevara and Simone Weil to Artaud, the Beats, Akhmatova and Pasolini. All are people who burned with inspiration and a revolutionary zeal.



That's the fire that burns through these verses. This dual language edition shows how Bava shines with incendiary passion in both Italian and English. Setting aside the incredible skill that speaks to (composing poetry in one's childhood tongue proves challenging enough, but to practise the art in another tongue --) the inherent desire to find as wide an audience as possible. In Bava's hand poetry is not a detached art of the drawing room, but a call to the barriers and a shout in the streets.

Burn writing to the stake &

immolate yourself in the form of

Poetry. Then, like Phoenixes,

rise in the form of Action.

Every line forms a potential molotov, from the titular poem's description of "Tattered books / of flesh as bomb / shrapnel / bleeding truth" and the ringing lines of "Sons of Disobedience" with its lines of fury, flesh and teeth. "This is No Chimera" speaks to the forces of acquiescence and conformity that press upon us all, maintaining that "The only requirement / is to believe in / hazardous deeds" lest we turn into Gregor Samsa-like bugs as "Wake Up!" warns, too.



It's all part of her "Rules of Poetry" (which also gives the name to her blog) which include "be fearless" as well as "demand respect" but most of all "kill indifference" because in the end

demand attention:

the poet is You.

Beowulf

adapted by Joshua Gray

illustrated by Sean Yates



As a medievalist, I always despair of people's dismissal of the time especially early works like this epic poem. Most people -- if they're exposed to it at all -- get it in school, taught very badly by someone who likewise knows nothing about the poem and its context. I wish I had a dime for every student who expressed surprise at the poem being nothing like they encountered in high school (hmmm, maybe I do...). So I'm always pleased to see attempts to introduce readers to the poem in new ways. Gray and Yates' volume attempts to bring the old story to new, young readers with bold illustrations and a simplified story.



The illustrations capture a dark mood of adventure; they're sufficiently gruesome though only suggestively so -- safe for parents, inviting for younger readers. Gray's text reduces the story to a speedy series of adventures in the conquering of the three monsters with efficiency and some flair. Hrothgar's "sermon" gets boiled down to its essentials: don't let pride rule, when you're king you're responsible for more than just your fame. The publicity materials refer to this as a "verse adaptation" but it reads like prose, but the language is lively enough to be engaging.



There are some contextual errors that made me give very Biggs-ian head snaps: wet suit?! Surely even a child completely ignorant of the time period would know that a wet suit is a very modern invention. A sword does not go into a "holster" and Heorot is not a "castle" in any way. None of these anomalies are quite as egregious as the mistakes in Cigale's introduction conflating time periods, clearly unfamiliar with the difference between a scop and a bard, and missing the cadence of half-lines. But he highlights one lynchpin of this adaptation: the eternal bond between fathers and sons and "all men", which is apparently the aim of all storytelling.



Because there are, of course, no women in this telling of the story (monsters excepting).



I feel like banging my head against the wall again. Why is it the 11th century monks who wrote this story down in England can have more regard for the importance of women than 21st century (seemingly) secular men? It's not as insulting as the Zemeckis film, where women are reduced to powerless concubines, but I'm mystified by this need to completely remove women from the story in order to glorify men. Is that really the message to give your sons? That they somehow exist outside the world of women and girls? I hope not.

Writer Wednesday: Postcards, Bits & Bobs

The deadline is fast approaching for the inaugural Postcard Fiction Contest! Be sure to get your entries in the mail to me in order to be in the running for that $25 prize. Deadline is May 15, 2012.



I'm interviewed over at Vic Watson's blog about some of my current projects. Drop by, share, leave a comment and be sure to check out her other interviews.



I just got my author copy of ACTION!: Pulse Pounding Tales, Vol 1 which includes my story "Chickens": it's 1968 and some good ol' boys from Bakersfield decide to head down to the big city to mess around with the hippies they saw on Cronkite. Bonus appearance from Cal Worthington and his dog Spot! Editor Matt Hilton describes the genesis of this collection:



Back in the late 1970s and early 1980s I was reading books ‘borrowed’
from my father’s stack of dog-eared paperbacks, that he acquired
through a read and share scheme with his friends. It seemed that my
father and his pals all shared a love of action tales the likes of Don Pendleton’s ‘Mack Bolan’, Richard Sapir and Warren Murphy’s ‘Remo Williams’, or George G Gilman’s homegrown western books, ‘Edge’ or ‘Adam Steele’, or a Nick Carter: Killmaster book.





Those books were high-entertainment to me and I couldn’t get enough of them, or indeed Robert E Howard’s Conan series, or Lin Carter’s Thongor of Lemuria, or Karl Edward Wagner’s
Kane. I loved my stories full of action and adventure, and it didn’t
much matter to me where, when, or how the story unfolded. It was through
reading those kinds of books that got me into writing. I wanted to
emulate the kind of books that I loved to read.



Apparently he's had an avalanche of interest, so Matt's already planning a second volume (and maybe more). The book will be available within days. I'll let you know when it's up. I should tell you too, that for every sale in the first month of publication, Matt will match with a donation of 50p to 'Help For Heroes'. We can all do our bit to help our injured servicemen and women: fictional heroes helping the 'real' heroes.



Of course there's also my story "Horse Clock" in Burning Bridges: A Renegade Fiction Anthology. You can get it for free on Smashwords, or you can get it for 99¢ on Amazon where all the proceeds will be going to to Literacy for Incarcerated Teens, a non-profit organization using the written word to help those
in need of a fresh start.



And yes, there's still Drunk on the Moon as well: action packed paranormal noir with your favourite werewolf P.I. If you haven't got this yet, do -- it's a whole lot of fun and I'm not just saying that for my story "It's a Curse." You will rip through this collection hootin' and a hollerin' and havin' a good time. And while you're at it, think about getting another great charity-supporting anthology True Brit Grit.



All right: tomorrow I'll have some reviews for you including Guerilla Blues!

Tuesday's Overlooked A/V: What is Creativity?

Sculpture by David Batchelor at the McManus

Rabbit, rabbit! First of May and sumer is icumen in, lhude sing cucu! If you're out protesting in the streets, I hope you're enjoying a fine day. My film today is a bit of an odd choice, truly in the spirit of the "overlooked" like no other I've written on.



I *think* it's called What is Creativity? At least that's how I've remembered it all these years. I suspect it was an hour or less long, as it was shown to me in junior high art class in 6th and again in 7th grade. The only 'name' in it was John Astin, but it doesn't appear on his list of films in IMDB. The three things I remember from it are seemingly indelibly fixed on my memory -- however, given my proclivity for 'adjusting' quotations to suit me and never quite getting them right (a habit I gave to Ro in Owl Stretching) I'm sure I may have adjusted them somewhat. But they're so vivid! And as it was on creativity, I was sold from the start.



So, what I do recall of this elusive film: there's an animated sequence that covers the history of the world through art. The "dark ages" literally blackness until the 'Renaissance' comes along with a light [insert medievalist eye roll]. There's an exchange between Michaelangelo and someone else: "What are you doing?" "I'm painting a ceiling. What are you doing?" "I'm painting a floor."



There's another part that's a parable told with ping-pong balls almost Jonathan Livingston Seagull-ish, with one non-conformist ball who decides to try to bounce as high as he can, with an inconclusive ending, "Some say he never came down..."



My favourite bit was the part with John Astin, who played an artist who wasn't doing very well then suddenly had an inspiration to put together mannequin parts and gears and whatnot in a kinetic sculpture.
He debuts it to a crowd of critics and suddenly he's dressed as a
gunslinger as the potshots come in. He shoots back in vain until at last
there's one positive voice in the noise: "I like it!" He leans forward,
encouraging the comment, until he hears, "I mean the materials alone
must be worth something!" Bang! And he goes down.






So, am I the only person who remembers this?



As always, find the complete round-up of neglected works over at Todd's.

Burning Bridges on Walpurgisnacht

It's a big bonfire night, Walpurgisnacht. Traditionally, bonfires burn and witches fly and the dark night clears the way for the bright May Day. How appropriate that it heralds the release of Burning Bridges: A Renegade Fiction Anthology.



A remarkable anthology of 15 stories by a bunch of writers who let their imaginations flow around the theme of burning bridges. You can get it for free at Smashwords, or you can get it for 99¢ at Amazon and 100% of authors' proceeds will be donated to Literacy for Incarcerated Teens, a non-profit organization using the written word to help those
in need of a fresh start.



Special kudos must be given to Fiona for the fine cover, Heath for the editing & assembly, and Ben for formatting the ebooks. Well done! Be sure to drop by L Vera's blog to read interviews with the authors, too.



Featuring:



Dead Weight ~ Allan Leverone

The Beginning of the End ~ Paul D. Brazill

Unforgettable ~ Julia Madeleine

A Freeway on Earth ~ Heath Lowrance

Horse Clock ~ K.A. Laity

Disciple ~ Mark Cooper

Punishment/Lola ~ Darren Sant

Asylum ~ George S. Geisinger

No Turning Back ~ McDroll

The Importance of Blood ~ Edith M. Maxwell

The Last Injustice ~ Benjamin Sobieck

An Idea for Murder ~ Tace Baker

Safety First ~ Joshua J. Mark

Killing Deities ~ L. Vera

A Gift ~ B.R. Stateham







"Living well is the best revenge." -- George Herbert, Jacula Prudentum (1651)

Six Sentence Sunday: It's a Curse, Round 2

Six Sentence Sunday has rolled around again. Drop by and see all the offerings at the Six Sunday blog. Today I offer another taste of "It's a Curse" because the eBook of Drunk on the Moon is already out and the print version arrives this week. And because I had such a hard time choosing just six sentences from the story. So here's another half dozen from when Roman Dalton, the werewolf PI, meets the woman he's supposed to be locating:




Jameson smiled, then looked thoughtful. "There's something odd about you."




"I missed the Paris fashions this year, so I'm out of season. Imagine my embarrassment."




"You're not what you seem."




"Neither are you."



In his blurb about the collection, Les Edgerton praised my dialogue in particular. Very kind words, indeed! You'll enjoy this anthology -- I guarantee it.