Cate Gardner's Blog, page 42

I'm So Last Century

Way back in the late 1990s the British small press was thriving and Kimota was an important part of the scene. I was lucky enough to have three short stories published in the magazine and when I say lucky, I mean lucky. My stories appeared alongside Joel Lane, Paul Finch, Peter Tennant, Jenny Barber, Steve Lockley and countless others.

The British small press of the 1990s birthed many of today's major stars.

Now, in the bright-dizzy age of the internet, Kimota has been rebirthed as an anthology and appropriately, as it's e-book week, as an ebook (available from Amazon).

When the editor, Graeme Hurry, contacted me late last year asking if he could republish my old stories in the anthology (which is a collection of stories that originally appeared in the magazine) I had a mini panic attack. Nooooooooo. I feel my writing has moved on and, hopefully, improved. So I asked if Graeme would be willing to accept a recent reprint instead. Which he did. And thus, 'Treading the Regolith' (originally published in M-Brane SF) found a new home.

The anthology features stories from Neal Asher, Peter Crowther, Paul Finch, Stephen Laws, Mark Chadbourn, Nicholas Royle, Mark Morris, William Miekle, D.F. Lewis, Suzanne J Barbieri, Stuart Young and others. Of course, that means I just got lucky again.

Graeme is hoping to launch a new 21st century magazine Kzine later this year. Keep an eye out for it and don't forget to submit.

I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles

My four-year-old nephew broke his dad's heart this week when he told him the cheapo bubble blower he received from a pre-school friend was the best present ever. You know after my brother had scoured the four corners of the flat earth for the present he really, really wanted.

I think we're all buying him cardboard boxes next year ;)

Finished the first draft of my novella, Barbed Wire Hearts, yesterday at 24,100 words. Hoping to bury my head in it today and next few days and get a decent portion of the next draft done. Of course, I may end up twittering as per usual but if you don't hear from me here, on twitter or on your blog, then I'm being a very good girl. Will make a change.

Let Her Eat Cake

I read a lot of advice on the internet. And I'm sure you do to.

Some of it wise. Some of it not. Some of it dictating how blogs, tweets, facebook etc etc etc should be. We're all different. We all want different things. Sometimes I agree with the advice with a 'heck yeah, that annoys the hell out of me,' and sometimes I'm all, 'what do you mean that's wrong? I love it when people do that.'

You know what, be who you want to be.

Oh no, does that mean I just gave advice?

Here's some more...

Rubbing coconut hand cream all over your hands and then running said hands through your hair is a silly thing to do.

You might be embarrassed opening the door with your hair doing a jedward* (if you don't know who they are DO NOT google) and with your mascara crying 'she should have washed me off before bed', but think about how the poor startled postman felt. He had to drive responsibly after he left your house when all he wanted to do was get a stiff drink. (I have pocket watch necklaces--squee)
 
Buying pineapple upside down pudding when you're on a diet is not okay just because a) it's your brother's birthday and your mum always bought you a cake on his birthday when you were small (you're no longer small) or b) you'd never seen it before (you need to get out more--but not to cake shops).


*Actually, I lied, my hair was more Edward Scissorhands.

I Quit

I quit painting watercolours.

I haven't painted in years. Pre-computer instead of twittering I used to relax by throwing paint at paper and convincing myself that my ducks looked like ducks and not runny egg yolk and the brown patch was a mountain and not that I'd tipped over the paintpot. Throwing paint at paper is so relaxing but (unless I'm having fun with the kids) I don't bother because I'm artistically challenged and it's messy. I'm the one who has to clean up now.

I quit playing the guitar.

Because I'm tone deaf and really couldn't play anything more challenging than 'Mull of Kintyre' and I played that really, really slowly. In fact, in an alternate universe another version of me is still giving that first performance. I did however think I looked cool with a guitar strapped to my back.

I'll never quit singing.

Even though, as already stated, I'm tone deaf. If my wonky notes are bothering you, leave the room. Or maybe the area because I am loud. For a quiet girl I can bellow.

And now, I've quit Skull Salad Reviews.

I don't enjoy writing reviews. I suck at writing them and I'd stress for days about what to put in them--I'm not a natural reviewer. I signed up to the site because I like getting reviews (good or bad) and it was my karmic way of giving back to the small press. Only I didn't feel I was giving back. I only mentioned the stories I liked and didn't mention those I didn't when a true reviewer will balance a review with both, and those are the reviewers we trust. Those are the reviewers we want and need. So I quit. And now I can devour my to read pile without having a panic attack about what to say about this story or that. I can simply come here and say, 'Wow, I just read this incredible story and you should read it because I know awesome when I see it.' And I do give back, I beta read friends books, I donate to magazines, I buy small press books, and I read small press stories and will continue to do so, so let me end with...

I read these two stories today and they're awesome...

Running Empty in a Land of Decay by Damien Walters Grintalis
Liminal by E. Catherine Tobler

This was the month that...

...I wrote for me.

Monthly Word Count: 23,766 words
Yearly Word Count: 48,818 words
Best Day: 3,641 words
Worst Day: 50 words in theory, but it was an editing day so I'll go for... Friday 11th Feb and 237 words
Days Off: One (Niece & Nephews birthday - there was cake and Megamind and sword fighting)
Acceptances: 1
Rejections: We don't talk about Fight Club, erm I mean...
Determination to Succeed: Flatlined

New Short Stories:-
With Ghost Butterflies in her Hair (1800 words)
Of Wrecks, White Noise and Abandoned Beaches (1400 words)

Plus 17,623 words of Barbed Wire Hearts and 3,624 words of The Ghosts of Folding Time.

Things found lurking in the pages of the above: Driftwood, Ghost Butterflies, Sarcophagus, Blood Spiders, A Goatish man, Stolen Doughnuts, Grandfather Clocks, and a kiss.

Current WIPs: Barbed Wire Hearts (novella)

Last line of February 2011:
She rushed back to the counter, sprinkled sugar and wrote, 'I love you mum. I love you dad,' in its dust.

Visible Invisible Boys

Oops!

I'm at that moment when you check your notes and realise you intended your MC to be invisible to everyone but a dead girl only he isn't and now you're spinning in your chair thinking, oh crap!

I suspect it all went wrong when Eddie decided to follow the path marked 'Wrong Way' at the crossroads.

Proof you shouldn't mess with the devil.

Spinning some more to figure out which road to travel and to prove the devil shouldn't mess with me.

WIP Wednesday - Heart...Break

The soundtrack for my novelette/novella/thing-of-undetermined-length is Once More with Feeling, you know, the Buffy musical. Of course you know--I've put a picture to the left. I think it's just an excuse to visit You Tube daily.

I've got a theory. Some kid is dreaming. And we're all stuck inside his wacky Broadway nightmare...

(Apologies, but sometimes you gotta belt out a song. Be grateful you're not in the room with me and a karaoke machine).

Barbed Wire Hearts (working title) currently stands at 10,376 words and is about a boy who loses his heart...

If made of glass, his heart would have splintered. If balloon like, it 'd burst. Where it once beat, it thudded, then dropped into his bowels waiting for him to shit it out.

...literally. I made poor Eddie wander around a forest with it dribbling down his inner leg. Although, I'm reserving my sorrow for Rose, she's just discovered the coroner's stitches on her chest. I don't think he did a very good job.

Groovy (or is that too 1970s?)

Someone found my blog by googling 'The Flying Dutchmen', but I suspect it had nothing to do with me. I then followed up by googling it myself and number uno on the Google page was a cannabis supplier in Amsterdam.

My Flying Dutchmen (which appears in the latest issue of Space & Time) takes the ghost ship from legend, throws it above the skies of Liverpool, adds a handful of aliens and dead people (there always seem to be dead people), and possibly reads as if I'd smoked the above before writing.

I shudder to think what I'd write if I did or how many revolutions I'd do in my chair before spinning into the bookcase.

This is a silly post, but then...

...all my posts are silly. And if you're in the mood for something mega silly, check out the below movie. Funniest thing I've seen in forever...

Fantastic Folk Friday - Mail Bag of Awesomeness

OMG!

I already know the people I know are awesome because those people are you people. But see that picture to the right, that goes beyond awesomness. In fact, I think we need to create a new word for such amazingness. I shall hunt verification words until I find one suitable--it's out there, I know it.

Mary Rajotte sent me a parcel full of goodies. It's not my birthday, it's not Christmas, she sent it to brighten my day. And it did, how cool. How beyond cool. See the silver flower (which the photo doesn't do justice too at mini size--click on the picture to make it BIG), well it's a pin that I can totally attach to my jacket and it is sooooo me. And in the little tin is Green Apple perfume. Green... Apple... And my blog used to be a green 'poisoned' apple.

And just think, one day I'll be standing in queue at a book signing and someone will say, 'I so love your flower pin' and I'll answer, 'Mary Rajotte sent it to me, you know THE Mary who we are currently in line to see'... and then the police will take me away because they'll think I'm a stalker or a nut or both.

 ::Grin::

Flying Saucer Eyes

Things that have happened this week...which is a strange sort of post for a Thursday, but then I'm an odd sort of gal.

Most important news first. There's an excellent review of my story collection, Strange Men in Pinstripe Suits, by Peter Tennant in the current issue of Black Static. I was so nervous about this review because it's a) Peter Tennant and b) Black Static and c) I'm nervous about every review.

Here's an excerpt from the review: ...is a smorgasbord of the surreal with strands of absurdity ripping through its core, each quirky story riffing on an internal logic with echoes of Monty Python at its most bizarre and informed by a delight in language that matches the exuberance of Bradbury at the height of his powers... There is an addictive quality to these stories, so that as soon as you finish one you want to rush on to the next...

You can read the rest of the review in Black Static. I shall have to secure my subscription copy behind glass when it arrives.

Next up... My story The Sound of Sharp Voices which appears in The Tangled Bank anthology is now available in print. The book originally appeared as an ebook last February and I'm really happy to be able to add the print version to my 'me' shelf. Yep, I have a me shelf. I guess my me shelf is an ego shelf and thus my ego is small.

And talking of Tangled... A Disney Store bag* freaked me out. It's one of those big numbers with a huge saucer eyed Rapunzel on the front and I'd left the darn thing hanging over the back of my door. It got dark. I hadn't drawn my blinds because I often don't. Something caught my eye in the window. EEK! For a millisecond I thought a giant eyed something was staring at me through the window. Thank god, I didn't pick up a Mickey Mouse bag.

*Note to concerned readers - the bag contains pressies for my talented niece and swashbuckling nephew and isn't a fashion accessory.