Stuart Aken's Blog, page 261

20 Things I’ve Sort of Learned So Far.

Paradoxically, it seems likely that fear of success is what most holds me back. The questions is, ‘Why?’I can write fluently, without preparation or planning, more or less at will. And I know how much that will piss off some of you, sorry!I can find ten reasons not to write, even though I enjoy writing and know that’s what I should be doing at the time. Perverse nature, idiocy, or something deeper, like laziness?Writer’s block is a problem for others. I have my own hurdles to jump. Generally, I build them as I go through life.Creating is the most enjoyable part of the process of writing. So why do I spend so much time and effort avoiding it?Editing is also enjoyable. I wonder why I put it off.Pinterest is a fascinating waste of time. Popular, relatively pointless and addictive.I can spend an hour or two lost in the inconsequential chatter of Twitter and Facebook. It’s called networking, but it’s really nothing much more than placing my opinions out there to cause discussion and debate.Learning to touch type would make me more efficient. But I need to be free from the day job to do that with any real chance of success. Roll on retirement from the wage slaveemployment.Reading my work out loud allows its imperfections to scream at me. So, I actually try to do this with everything, though I don’t always succeed, of course.Reading and editing from the printed page reveals all those typos and repetitions I miss when scanning the screen. So, I try to make sure I print off everything before it goes out, except, of course, these blog posts!As I approach the point where I should submit a piece, I discover innumerable reasons to put it off. Is it doubt, lack of confidence or that old problem from the top of this list, d’you reckon?It’s better to clip those gems of genius and place them in a file for future use than to discard them with the delete key. I’m all for re-cycling.There are a hundred distractions for every determined effort to impose discipline on my work process and I can indulge in each of them in spite of the guilt they all bring. Guilt; the precious gift of the Abrahamic religions. Why couldn’t the God Squad deliver something more useful, I wonder.If I don’t write down that brilliant idea at once, I will, always, always, always, forget it before I reach my study. Always.Of the brilliant notes I record in any of my 3 notebooks, almost all will result in a useful idea to develop, which makes it surprising that I often resist the recording. Stubborn? Me?If I fail to produce a visual reminder of my intended actions, I’ll forget what I intended just that morning and find myself doing something else instead. Usually something fairly unproductive, at that.Sometimes it’s fine to indulge in trivia, daydreams and idleness. Which, given my propensity to do just that, is a pretty good thing.Music helps isolate me from the intrusive sounds of everyday life. I play all my favourite tracks, both classical and pop, and never actually hear them if I’m lost in the creative process.Without reviews, an indie author might as well accept that he’ll sell very few books, regardless of the quality. But obtaining reviews is almost as hard as getting the work out there in the first place.This, by the way, was a useful exercise, in that it concentrated my mind on certain aspects of my behaviour, which I can now attempt to alter. Might be worth your while engaging in a similar list if you see yourself in any of these lessons.Comments readily received in the appropriate space below. Thank you.
Related articles Go With the Flow: Finding Balance Among Opposites in the Creative Process Too tired to write - self-care for writers How to Avoid Productivity Like the Plague [image error]

As You Like It, By William Shakespeare, Reviewed.

The cheek of it! Reviewing anything by the Bard? Are you mad? Well, I can have an opinion, and here it is.
Almost everything that can be said about this play has already been said. I have never seen it performed but the text is as a good a read as any of the Bard’s work. It is, of course, a comedy, though it illustrates quite well how different the concept of comedy has become as the ages pass. In Shakespeare’s day, of course, it merely meant a piece of drama with a happy ending. And, for most of the characters in this work, the ending is happy. The reader, or playgoer, is required to suspend disbelief in a fairly extreme way for a couple of incidents. The conversions of Oliver and Frederick take some believing, considering the depths of their hatreds, but it’s all taken in good spirit. And, though the poet has messages to purvey, he has made this an entertainment before it is anything else.
There is great play made of the gender bending and, of course, since men played all the parts, the double entendres are many. A large number of songs appear in this play, more than I’ve come across previously and they sometimes appear to be no more than padding. What? Accusing the Bard of padding? Well, that’s the way they seemed to me. As did one or two of the smaller scenes, which appeared to have no bearing on the plot at all.
But I’m not complaining, merely pointing out those features that struck me whilst reading. I enjoyed the language (who can fail to do so?) of course. The characters were diverse and entertaining, even if a little thinly drawn on occasion.
Would I now go to see a performance? You bet.
And will I read more Shakespeare? Try to stop me. 
Related articles The Tercentenary of William Shakespeare A Eulogium Pronounced in St. James's Church, Chicago, Sunday, April 30, 1916 book downloads Win The William Shakespeare Collection On DVD [image error]

Read My Novel, Free: Chapter 23

Not reading this? Take a look at the reviews on the 'My Books' tab. They may lead you to give it a try.
On the other hand, if you've been with me this far, are you still enjoying this story? I certainly hope so.
I posted Chapter 1 way back on 13 January. Subsequent chapters have appeared each Friday, and will continue to be posted until all 50 have appeared here. You can find those already posted via the archive; just search for the chapter you want to read.
Missed the start? Find it here: http://stuartaken.blogspot.com/2012/01/read-free-my-novel-here.html
Read, enjoy, invite your friends to join us.
Chapter 23
Friday 7th May
Zoë arrived late on Friday night. A tall, willowy, woman with startling aquamarine eyes that sparkled. She smiled easily and had long shiny hair the colour of coal. I liked her on sight. Netta didn’t. Leigh greeted her with a kiss full on her mouth and a great hug which he held for a long time. Netta folded her arms across her chest and tapped her bare foot.I took Zoë’s case. ‘Where shall I put this, Leigh?’Netta and Zoë both looked at him.‘Zizi’s only here for a couple of nights, Netta…’I thought Netta would make a fuss, but she shrugged and pretended she didn’t care. ‘Fine. We’ll split it, then. Do you want him tonight or tomorrow?’Zoë laughed out loud and I had to join her, it was so infectious. Netta looked uncomfortable and Leigh smiled knowingly.‘Perhaps you’d rather we shared him both nights?’Leigh’s face was a picture; he wanted none of that. Even I could tell she was joking but Netta seemed to think she was serious.‘Fine by me. Just because we live in the sticks, we’re not savages, you know. We can be every bit as sophisticated as you southerners.’‘My dear, you’re clearly far more sophisticated than I. Tell you what; I’m positively pooped after slogging up that dreadful motorway. You look after the poor man’s needs for tonight. I’ll keep him warm tomorrow. How’s that?’‘Suits me.’Leigh grinned. ‘The bedroom opposite yours, in that case.’‘What, this case in that case?’‘No, that case in this case.’‘Right. In that case, I’ll take this case up.’‘In that case, thank you.’Zoë laughed. ‘You two should be a double act.’Leigh looked at me. ‘Maybe we should’Netta butted in. ‘Mum’s in that room tomorrow night’‘No problem. Ma can change the sheets in the morning. You can cosy up with Matilda or use the far end room tomorrow night. I think I’m going to enjoy this birthday.’When I returned, they were in the sitting room, drinking wine, and I noticed Zoë’s outfit for the first time as she stood to thank me. She wore a sheer, batwing, paisley print cotton blouse, in colours that echoed her eyes, tied under breasts I would have liked to sport. The fabric lay soft and close to her skin and the low cut neckline exposed her deep cleavage. Round her long, slender neck was a black velvet choker bearing a single emerald. Her black trousers were low on her hips so her navel was exposed and they hugged her legs until they flared at the embroidered bottoms. Black, strappy sandals with low heels exposed feet that had worn badly fitting shoes for too long. The nails on her fingers and toes were painted bright aquamarine to match her eyes and eye shadow.‘That was kind of you, Faith, thank you. Leigh’s told me a lot about you and I’ve been looking forward to our meeting. He’s warned me you’re dangerously honest. Tell me, how do I look?’ There was a gleam in her eyes and humour around her mouth that spoke of mockery. But it was herself she was mocking.‘I think Leigh must be mad not to have asked you to marry him years ago. But I’m glad he didn’t. You’re beautiful, Zoë. To look at, that is. Of course, I don’t know enough about you as a person to determine your character yet, but I think you’re probably rather nice and I think and hope we’ll get along well.’‘What a delight! It’ll be Ma who suggested marriage, of course. Leigh’s my first love but he’d never get me to leave London and live in this godforsaken place. And I’m such a slave to the weed, he’d never be able to put up with me. He describes me as a beautiful ashtray, you know.’That was when I finally realized that Leigh didn’t smoke and that none of his lovers and friends smoked in his company. Zoë’s admission made me aware of how strongly he must feel about it and I wondered why.Netta had seated herself at Leigh’s feet, staking her claim, as Ma would say. She’d caught his hand and pulled it over her shoulder so that it rested on the top of her breast under a shirt unbuttoned to expose most of her upper half. I could see his fingers gently stroking her and I wondered what it would feel like. The thought had me blushing. What was it about Leigh that made him such a magnet for women?‘Why is it, Zoë, that Leigh’s so attractive to us all?’He gave me a strange look, as if he hadn’t thought I found him attractive, as if my question surprised him.‘She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?’ Zoë sat on the vacant sofa and patted the space beside her. I joined her as Leigh struggled to get up and pass me the glass of wine he’d poured whilst I was upstairs.Zoë touched his hand as I took the glass from him and a look passed between them that Netta couldn’t see and that had me wondering what was so powerful that it could keep them apart. The touch lasted only seconds and he returned to his seat, where Netta again took the hand and placed it on her breast. He glanced at her and gently stroked her skin again as she turned away to stare at Zoë with triumph. Leigh, however, also returned his gaze to Zoë.Zoë never took her eyes off him as she answered my question. ‘Leigh’s one of those men, though I’m not convinced he should hear this, who holds a mysterious charm for women. Tall, dark and devastatingly handsome he is of course, like the heroes of so many cheap romances. But it’s not just his looks, or those amazing eyes that make you feel like a million dollars every time they include you in his glance; it’s a knack he has of making you feel you’re the only person alive when he’s with you.‘Even now, with the three of us for company, we’ll each feel we’re the only one around when he speaks to us. I don’t know how he does it, but he’s always been that way. Of course, the fact that he’s an incredible lover and as horny as a rutting stag, doesn’t do him any harm either. But you never feel used by him. He has this way of making every woman feel special. We all love him and he loves all of us. Isn’t that right, Leigh?’‘Well, he’s loving me tonight. He’s only got one and it’s mine tonight!’‘My dear, I thought you were all for sharing him? Though I have to say, I’ve never been able to see what’s in it for the other woman with three in a bed.’‘He’s got hands and a tongue, hasn’t he?’‘I see. You’re obviously way too sophisticated for me, my dear. I have this old fashioned notion about keeping a man to myself in bed. Terribly primitive and square, I suppose, but that’s me.’‘And me.’ Leigh gently took his hand from Netta’s skin and rose to his feet. ‘Come on, wanton angel, let’s get to bed so that Zizi can rest after her long journey.’Netta was on her feet at once.‘You go up and enjoy the bathroom together. Save water; bath with a friend. Faith and I can have a little chat until you’re in the love nest.’Netta needed no further encouragement and dragged Leigh from the room.Zoë was laughing quietly as they left. She refilled our glasses from the bottle. ‘Now then, Faith, mind if I have a ciggie?’‘I don’t, but Leigh will.’‘Oh, how splendidly loyal of you. Will you join me in the back garden, then, so I can have my fix?’We took our wine out to the bench against the back wall of the house, the lights from the kitchen and utility room patching the grass with golden oblongs. Zoë lit up as soon as we closed the door behind us.‘Don’t ever start with this foul master, especially if you’ve any designs on Leigh, Faith. It stopped him marrying me, and I very much want to be married to him, I can tell you. But it’s a pernicious weed and a jealous master.’‘If you love him so much, why don’t you just give up smoking?’‘You really are an innocent, aren’t you, sweetie, encouraging a rival to do something that will help her steal the man you love? You’re too kind for your own good. I love Leigh. I always have and I always will. I’ll go to my early grave, hacking black death from my diseased lungs, loving him. But I can’t give it up. This weed’s a clever killer, Faith. Ensnares you through advertising, rebellion, fashion, peer pressure or simple stupidity. Once hooked, unless you’re very lucky, you’re on it for life. No, I can’t give it up, believe me, I’ve tried. Its hold is too strong.’‘How can they let it be sold if it’s that bad?’‘Ah. Vested interest. Jobs, revenue, indifference, ignorance, but mostly because the governments of the world make huge sums in taxes from the legal killers who manufacture this poison. It’ll never change as long as the politicians are in the pockets of the paymasters.’‘Are you ill now?’‘Only in my mind. The real sickness will come later. But enough of that. Leigh won’t marry me; he thinks of me as an ashtray and he hates smoking for reasons he’ll tell you in his own good time. But he may well marry you, my dear.‘Don’t let that promiscuous, sexually athletic sister of yours put you off. Leigh loves his sex and his beautiful women, but he’s never shown the slightest signs of settling down with anyone. Never, that is, until you came along. The way he talks about you makes it obvious to any woman. That’s why your selfish little sister is so damned terrified of you. It’ll take time, Faith, but he’ll discover the real you and fall in love and be faithful to you for the rest of your lives together. I’ll come to your wedding and weep for what I’ve lost, but I’ll be glad for Leigh and for you.’‘You seem very certain. How can you be so calm about me marrying the man you love? I don’t understand.’‘I think you do. I’m certain because I know Leigh better than he knows himself and he’s undeniably falling in love with you. I am, as you put it, calm about the prospect because I love him. This’ll sound terribly corny and cringe-making, but it’s true for all that; love is selfless, it’s sex that’s selfish. If I can’t have Leigh, and I can’t, I want to know that he’s with a woman he loves and who loves him in return. That woman is you, Faith, for all your innocence and naivety. Perhaps even because of those qualities.’‘You’re very honest.’‘Not as honest as you, sweetie. I’ve nothing to lose now. Borrowed time. The only thing in life I truly value will never be entirely mine, so I have little to fear but the painful end. When they tell me the rot’s set in, I just hope I have the guts to end it myself. The thought of slow disintegration fills me with unspeakable horror. Please promise me you’ll never succumb to this curse, never even try it.’It mattered to her. I could hear and feel the pain that lay behind her bravado. She was so sad and helpless and I understood it wasn’t her fault. She knew she was addicted, knew she was powerless to change, knew her habit would eventually kill her. I vowed I’d never fall into its clutches. ‘I promise. I give you my word of honour.’I watched as she took another cigarette from the silver case in her handbag and lit it from the glowing stub of the first. She blew out a great blue cloud of smoke and it seemed to relax her but there were tears in the corners of her beautiful eyes as she looked at me. ‘Good. Break that promise, sweetie, and I swear I’ll come back to haunt you!’‘I won’t.’‘Want a drag?’I pulled away from the offered death stick and shook my head, vigorously. ‘Why would anyone offer poison to a friend? I don’t understand.’‘Ah. That was a test. But you’re quite right. I started because friends persuaded me. Some friends, eh? What would you think of someone who begged you, with much underhand persuasion, to walk blindfold across a busy motorway? This is every bit as lethal. Odd sort of friendship, isn’t it?’I nodded. ‘How can you stand the thought of Leigh in bed with Netta?’ It was out of my mouth before my mind had grasped the consequences. ‘I’m sorry!’She just turned and looked at me, the curl of smoke escaping her mouth as she parted her lips and then briefly smiled and nodded. ‘You’ll feel it more keenly than me, of course. It’s fresh for you, this love. You don’t yet know what you’re missing. You haven’t experienced the magic of Leigh’s physical love. He’s a man made for loving women. I wasn’t his first but I lasted the longest. Whilst he was living with me and we were both studying, he was pleasuring other girls. In a sense, and this is wonderfully ironic, it was the pressure of his infidelity that drove me to the weed. Cruel; that the one thing that ensured I’d never have him exclusively was something his behaviour pushed me into. I ought to hate him, you know. But, idiot that I am, I can’t.‘I’ve known Leigh a long time. He’s an unusual sort of philanderer in that he really does love his women. He lives to give us pleasure, to enjoy us and celebrate us and please as many of us as he possibly can. There’s none of the usual insecurity of the run-of-the-mill gigolo in Leigh. He isn’t doing the rounds to prove his manhood or because he’s scared that commitment will somehow stunt and imprison him. He moves amongst us and shares what he has to give as generously and evenly as possible. It’s like a mission with him; he’s a missionary spreading the good news of fucking by demonstration.‘Whether I wish he was with me instead of Netta is immaterial. He is with Netta now. Tomorrow he’ll be with me and I’ll adore my time with him, treasure every moment, every touch, every loving look. We’ll fuck through the night and into the morning and still I’ll want more of him and he’ll want more of me. But when I’ve gone, he’ll be giving his all to Netta, or Abby or Sue or Helen or any of the many of his previous lovers who’ll come to his party. And those who are chosen will give and those who are not will sigh their regrets but they won’t blame Leigh. He can only be with one of us at a time and we all know that most times it’s just not our turn, that’s all.’I found it impossible to reconcile what I felt for Leigh with this ability to let him go so easily. ‘If I had Leigh, I’d have to be the only one for the rest of my life. I could never let him be with another woman in that way if he was mine.’Zoë was watching me closely. ‘Sometimes it’s better to have a small portion of what you desire most than to go without entirely. That’s the choice for most of us. With you, it’ll be different. Leigh doesn’t know he’s falling in love with you, because it’s never happened to him before. There’s a world of difference between loving women and being in love with a woman. One day Leigh will find that being in love with you is more important than anything else. When that happens he’ll be yours exclusively, just the way you want him, sweetie. Come on, it’s growing cool and I’m whacked. Let’s get to our lonely beds.’ She dropped the glowing cigarette onto the grass and twisted her shoe over it as if she hated the thing and wanted to grind it to pulp.Zoë seemed so certain about my future with Leigh and there were so many questions I had for her. But she swept into the house and left me to close the doors and turn off the lights. By the time I reached the landing, her door was closed and the light was off. In the silence, I thought I heard weeping, but it was so quiet I couldn’t be sure.Tired, exhilarated, full of fearful optimism, my head buzzing with all I’d heard, I lay in my bed and watched the crescent of the moon slowly cross the blackness through my window. It was very late when I found sleep.



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You've come all this way, so it's unlikely you'll stop until you reach the end. But, just in case you're impatient for the next chapter, you know where you can buy the book. If you do, please write a review and post it wherever you can - Amazon, Goodreads, any other bookish site. Reviews are what get indie published books noticed, you see.
Tweet with me on Twitter: http://twitter.com/@stuartaken
Like my author page on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/StuartAkenMy website has links to 100s of other sites of interest: http://stuartaken.co.ukRead on Goodreads:  http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4234877.Stuart_AkenStumble with me: http://www.stumbleupon.com/stumbler/stuartakenCome Digg with me: http://digg.com/stuartakenPin with me here: http://pinterest.com/stuartaken/Buy my ebooks via Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/stuartakenUSA readers, see my author page on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/stuartaken(for some odd reason, this type of link isn't yet available on Amazon for UK)         [image error]

THE WRITERS’ TOOLKIT

THE WRITERS’ TOOLKIT: a handbook for authors of commercial fiction.  Penny Grubb & Danuta Reah. Published by Fantastic Books Publishing. Pb: £6.99.Pre-order from Fantastic Books UK post-freeWhere’s the best place for a novel to start? How do you tell? What pulls a reader into one book over another? What do you do if you can’t get any tension into a scene that should be high-drama? How do you lift a scene that seems to drag? Are you fed up with staring at a blank page?The toolkits take you step by step, element by element and give you the components you need for every stage of your novel.I know Penny Grubb's writing well. I'd advise any writer serious about commercial fiction to read this book.
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Arthur: Roman Britain’s Last Champion, by Beram Saklatvala, Reviewed

Arthur, the last ‘king’ of the Britons, has been analysed, scrutinised, mocked and praised through the ages. For a man without any positive identity or even, perhaps, existence, this is quite an achievement.
Those who recognise the ancient British hero as either the mythical demi-god or the possibly real last leader to stand against the invading English, will be familiar with the works of the past. Mallory, Geoffrey of Monmouth and William of Malmsbury will all be names that strike chords of recognition, with Mallory’s Morte D’Arthur probably the most well-known source of speculation and romance regarding this character from our ancient past.
In his studious and careful re-examination of known facts, scholarly conjecture and outright fable, Saklatvala has brought together these know sources and added many less familiar works to the canon for an in-depth examination of the possible reality. My only criticism of his narrative stems from his clear bias toward the positive role of Christianity in Arthur’s background; I suspect that this leaning toward that religion has distorted some of his judgement. However, I applaud the scholarship displayed along the way.
The book, necessarily, contains a huge number of ‘if’s; such is the nature of conjecture. And, if nothing else, we who are not such scholars learn a good deal about how the mind of the archaeologist functions. In the absence of concrete evidence, speculation, informed by knowledge of times, customs, actual historical events and other reliable sources, steps in to form a picture of possibilities. Whether the reader believes the resultant conclusions is dependent on that reader’s prior knowledge of the subject, his own prejudices, and the ability of the narrator to convince him of his theories.
I came to this topic with the average English schoolboy’s knowledge of Arthur, informed by scant history from school lessons, the imaginative Disney The Sword in the Stonemovie, Mary Stewart’s quintet of Arthurian legends, the musical Camelot and, of course, the inimical Monty Python and the Holy Grail . So, I imagine I was fairly typical of the majority of people in this respect.
Monty Python and the Holy Grail (Photo credit: Wikipedia)What I found in these pages surprised and informed me. I came across many names I had forgotten I knew; Vortigern, Ambrosius, Hengist, Horsa, Bede and others. But I was introduced to entirely new characters both historical and legendary; Germanus, Maximus, Gratian, Valentinian, Nennius, Claudian and Gildas amongst many.
Saklatvala has studied innumerable texts and put together those facts that appear to support each other from disparate sources to form the kernel of a possible truth about Arthur. The label, ‘King’, is clearly a latter day title for a man who was probably known in his lifetime as the ‘Duke of Britain’, a military leader devoted to the task of keeping alive the traditions and values of Rome at a time when that empire was swapping military power, which had declined to the point of non-existence, for religious power in the role of Father of Christianity in the person of the Pope.
The reason for much that is valued in current society has been made clearer to me by reading this book and I suggest that anyone with an interest in English history would be well served by reading it. It was first published in 1967 and new evidence has come to light since then, some no doubt inspired by the book itself. Nevertheless, the nub of the narrative remains, I suspect, as credible now as it was when the book was written. Scholars with specialist knowledge will no doubt already be aware of the theories and conclusions made by this author. But those who have only a passing familiarity with the legend that is King Arthur will undoubtedly discover much food for thought within these careful and comprehensive pages. Give it a try; you might be surprised by what it tells you.
Related articles Excalibur Review: The Last Enchantment by Mary Stewart [image error]

New Ebook Cover Requirements for High Quality Ereaders

Heads up.  Effective on or about July 15, Smashwords will begin requiring higher pixel counts on ebook cover images.

Why the change?  Starting in August, Apple will require that all new ebook cover images be at least 1,400 pixels wide.  Their previous minimum was 600 pixels. 

Since Smashwords requires vertical rectangle (height greater than width) images, a new recommended ebook cover might be around 1,600 pixels wide by 2,400 pixels tall.  Why 2,400?  2,400 is 1.5 times 1,600. Pull out a ruler and measure just about any print book and you'll get a ratio close to that.  Most good-looking covers have heights that range from approximately 1.3 to 1.6 times your width.  Amazon recommendsa 1.6 width/height ratio, and their recommended height is 2,500 pixels. As you can see, there's flexibility here for personal preference whether you prefer wide or long.  The image above left shows what a 1.5 ratio looks like.  The height is 50% greater than the width.

Why is Apple requiring higher pixel counts?  Most likely, it's because they want to provide ebook customers better covers for their current and future higher resolution iPads, iPhones and MacBooks.  Since we think the Apple and Amazon guidelines are reasonable (they help readers with next-generation screens enjoy your covers in all their glory), we'll adopt Apple's requirements as our new minimum standards for cover images.

What happens next?
Apple's new requirement applies to new ebooks, and new cover updates.  If your book is already in the Apple iBookstore with a smaller cover image, you're grandfathered in, UNLESS you try to update your cover image in the future, in which case they'll reject it.  To help you get ahead of this change, Smashwords will make the 1,400 pixel minimum a Premium Catalog requirement starting on or around July 15.  Like Apple, we'll apply the standard to new titles and cover image updates.   If we previously shipped your smaller cover to retailers, we won't require the new cover image size unless you update your cover image or republish a previously unpublished book. The minimum dimensions do not apply to the images or cover image inside your .epub file.  

The Smashwords FAQ is now updated to reflect the new recommendations and requirements.  I'll update the Smashwords Style Guide in the next day or two so one month from now this won't come as a surprise to people.


How NOT to create a new cover image
Don't use a photo or image editing program to enlarge your current image.  That will cause pixelation (blur).  

How to create your cover image
You'll find some tips in the Smashwords FAQ, though my best recommendation is to hire a professional.  Unless you're a professional graphic artist, it's best to hire a cover image designer. Send an email to list@smashwords.com to obtain my list of low cost cover designers and ebook formatters (they're all freelancers, we don't receive a commission or referral fee). Their rates range from about $40 to $100, a range I consider very reasonable.  Most have online portfolios so you can see if their style matches what  you're looking for.  If they don't match what you want, post a note at the Smashwords Facebook page to ask your fellow authors for references.  There are many great cover designers out there, and most are very affordable.  See my free ebook, The Secrets to Ebook Publishing Success, for comments on why a professional ebook cover image is so critical to a book's success.

Please share this post with your fellow authors and publishers so everyone has ample advance notice. 


As above, I've posted this for my readers, so you can be aware of this coming change.
Related articles New Ebook Cover Image Requirements Coming to Satisfy Higher Resolution E-Reading Devices Formatting Your Ebook for Kindle, Barnes and Noble (or Epub), and Smashwords Smashwords Delivers Faster Shipments to Apple and Kobo [image error]

Read My Novel, Free: Chapter 22

Not started reading this yet? Have a look at the reviews on the 'My Books' tab. They may persuade you it's worth a try at least.
Alternatively, if you've been with me this far, are you still enjoying this story? I certainly hope so.
I posted Chapter 1 way back on 13 January. Subsequent chapters have appeared each Friday, and will continue to be posted until all 50 have appeared here. You can find those already posted via the archive; just search for the chapter you want to read.
Missed the start? Find it here: http://stuartaken.blogspot.com/2012/01/read-free-my-novel-here.html
Read, enjoy, invite your friends to join us.
Chapter 22
Monday 3rd May
Leigh had no jobs, as it was a bank holiday, and was in the studio with Netta. Mervyn had come in to complete a large order for Leigh to deliver the next day when he went to Carlisle. I was finishing the order as he printed it, even though it meant working closely with Mervyn.‘Show us yours an’ I’ll show you mine.’‘I’ve seen more of it than I care to, Mervyn and I’m not impressed. Mine, on the other hand, will remain hidden.’ But an audacious idea began to form from his constant demands to see me naked. I was desperate to impress Leigh, and one way I might do it was by learning to print his photographs to a high standard.Mervyn was foul as a man but brilliant in the darkroom. If I could learn to do what he did, Leigh would value me very highly. At the back of my mind rose the thought that I might also replace Mervyn and get him out of Longhouse for good. I shuddered at the thought of what I was about to propose but steeled myself by imagining Leigh’s delight when I succeeded. Mum had said that love meant doing what the loved one wants, not what you want for yourself. It was a sacrifice I would make for Leigh.I took a deep breath. ‘I’ll make a deal with you, Mervyn.’He was all attention.‘I’d never let you see me in the flesh but, in exchange for a favour, I might let you have a picture of me, in my bra and pants.’ I was trimming the excess white borders from prints that had come off the glazer.Mervyn had just finished in the darkroom, having started early so he could go back home for some unspecified purpose. He was tidying up, ready to leave. ‘Seen all on you any road. Just wanna see it a bit closer, that’s all.’‘You most certainly have not!’‘Have! Seen your twat and your arse and your little tits. Bigger now. Seen every little bit on you.’‘Don’t be disgusting. No one has.’‘Cept your pervert father every time ‘e stuck it up your spastic sister. Any road, I ‘ave. Seen you swimmin’ in that little lake.’I very nearly chopped in two the print I was trimming. It had never occurred to me that anyone could have watched me swimming. Blood flushed my whole body and I felt unclean at the thought of his eyes on me. I wanted to be free of him, wanted to shower myself clean of his prying eyes on me in that private place. But I recalled Mum’s words and my ambition for Leigh, bit my lip, swallowed and continued to persuade him.‘If you do as I ask, you can have a picture. That must be better than a snatched glimpse from the trees up there with me in the water.’‘What you want, then?’Netta used her body to get round Leigh and I wondered if I could do the same with Mervyn. I would have to be very careful not to make him think I was inviting his touch. I shifted my stance and put my weight on one foot, throwing my hip out and resting my hand there as I had seen Netta pose. ‘I want to learn to print. Not to do you out of a job, Mervyn. Just to print some pictures of my own. If you agree, you can teach me using a picture of me in my underwear.’He licked his lips lasciviously until I felt sullied and defiled. But I’d do almost anything to win respect and admiration from Leigh. It need not take long. Once Mervyn had taught me the basics, I could learn the rest on my own.‘Who’s gonna teck the picture?’‘I’m perfectly capable of taking a self-portrait. But you must promise to say nothing to Leigh. He mustn’t know anything about it. Agreed?’‘No undies. Full frontal. Starkers wi’ your legs spread wide.’I glanced at the pictures behind him on the wall. Some of the women were displaying just their breasts. I wondered; could I do that?‘With my bra off, then.’‘Piss off. All or nowt.’‘You want a picture of me naked before you’ll agree?’‘Full frontal. Twat, tits, everythin’.’I would feel defiled, abused, reduced and violated as he showed me how to print, using pictures of my naked body. I thought about Leigh’s expression of delight when he discovered I could print. Maybe I would do well enough to get rid of Mervyn from Longhouse forever. But, more than anything else, Leigh would be proud of me; he would admire my skill and notice me again.‘If that’s the price.’‘Fuck me! You mean it, don’t you?’‘I want to learn. Leigh says you’re the best there is.’‘Fuck me! Legs apart, mind. No ‘iding owt behind your fingers.’‘You’ll see everything. Now, promise you won’t say anything to Leigh?’‘Yeah. Don’t see why you care, mind.’‘I care, and that’s reason enough. If you say a word to Leigh, I’ll tell him how often you swear at me. And you know what he said about that.’‘Don’t threaten me, twat. I can keep a promise. When you gonna do it?’‘I’ll take the picture later and you can start by showing me how to develop the film. We’ll have to work together when Leigh’s out so he won’t know.’‘Sounds fuckin’ good to me. Have to be in the dark together.’‘I’ll make one thing quite clear, Mervyn. Looking is one thing, but if you so much as touch me, I’ll make sure you’re out of here forever. Understand?’‘Keep your fuckin’ tits on. I know ‘ow to behave.’‘You’ll do it, then?’‘Try an’ fuckin’ stop me!’It was as much as I could take. I left the prints and him without another word. I could return to finish off when he’d gone.On the small landing above the ladder, I paused to still my breathing and collect my thoughts. My stomach was churning. Leigh and Netta were no longer in the studio and I guessed they’d gone to the bedroom to have sex.I went through the kitchen and found them having coffee with Ma. In spite of the weather, I left for the garden and stood there breathing in the cool damp air, letting the rain wash me free of the dirt I’d let Mervyn plaster on me. It would be worth it, I kept telling myself; worth it to see Leigh’s delight at my skill. Over and over, I said to myself that Leigh was worth the sacrifice.‘Come in, Faith. You’ll catch your death!’ Ma was at the back door that led from the utility room, squinting out to where I stood. She waved and I started across the short grass back to the house.I realized I was soaked to the skin and wondered how long I’d been out there. Old Hodge shook his head at me as I crossed the kitchen floor on my way upstairs to dry and change. Leigh and Netta had returned to the studio.In the bathroom, I peeled off my wet clothes and towelled my skin dry. Mervyn’s words assailed me again as he admitted to his voyeurism at the tarn. And I considered my deal again; to show him a picture of my naked body in exchange for learning his skill.Sex and nudity. I seemed unable to escape these everyday obsessions. I was exposed to them everywhere. I had resolved to educate myself by reading and by watching films on the idiot’s lantern but my environment was determined to show me the facts more brutally than the works of others ever could.I draped my towel over the heated rail in the bathroom and left my clothes to drain in the bath as I went across the corridor change. Again, coincidence, fate, whatever influence was at work, caught me out. I came face to face with Leigh as he walked the corridor from his bedroom to the bathroom.My instinct was to cover myself with my hands but I brazened it out in this house where flesh was always on display. Though my mind told me to run, I let my heart slow me and make me saunter, pause at my door and half turn to face him over my shoulder.He gazed at me in such a way that blood flushed through me in a sensation that was as exciting as it was disturbing. Leigh’s admiring stare, I discovered, was as pleasant as Mervyn’s mental undressing was vile.‘My God, you’re lovely, Faith.’He would have stared at me forever had I not gone into my room.I sat on the edge of my bed and tried to make sense of what was happening around and to me. It was so difficult to know how I really felt, what I thought, what I wanted, even. Confusion was my chief experience of life.From my reading, I recognized something of the bewilderment suffered by adolescents. Nearing twenty-one, I lacked the background and experience to understand the changes that effected my behaviour and affected my moods and thinking. Although the hormonal changes of adolescence had long been complete, Heacham had stifled my emotional development and only now was I learning what most women learned in their teens.Why, I wondered, had I been unembarrassed, unconcerned even at Leigh viewing my nude body, yet reacted with almost physical nausea to the mere idea of Mervyn seeing a picture of me naked. Did my being in love with Leigh make the difference?‘No point sitting there thinking Leigh’ll see you and be impressed. You have to pose and flaunt yourself, spread your thighs and take him inside if you want him to notice you at all.’ Netta broke into my thoughts. ‘Course, you’re not about to follow my example, are you? Far too special and choosy to do that. Fine. I don’t care, Fay. The less others have of him the more there is for me. Ma asked me to tell you lunch is ready, by the way.’‘Am I pretty?’ I stood for my sister, determined to discover the truth.She assessed me and a wicked smile played on her lips before she abruptly became serious and looked into my eyes. ‘I could tell you anything and you’d believe me, wouldn’t you? I hate to admit it, Fay, but you’re just like all the women in our family, bloody gorgeous.’‘Is that the truth?’‘Unfortunately.’ And she was gone.I thought about her reply. Had she told me the truth? Was her opinion valid anyway? What would a man think of me? What I really wanted to know was what Leigh thought about me. And, I realized with a sudden shock, he had declared that I was lovely. I smiled and pulled some clothes on. I was not ready to wander about the house half naked like Netta and Abby and most of Leigh’s other women. Would I ever be ready for such a public display?‘Mervyn’s got his eye on you.’ I told Netta in the kitchen. ‘He was watching you pose for Leigh and he told me he…well, I can’t repeat his words, but what he said made me shudder.’‘Ta for the warning, Fay, but I can handle Merv the perv. Rattles you, though, doesn’t he?’‘I can’t stand the great lout. He’s foul mouthed, vulgar and lewd and I believe he’s dangerous. I wouldn’t want to be alone with him away from the protection of Longhouse.’‘Trouble with Merv is he’s scared stiff, or more likely, limp, of women. Likes to look but terrified to touch. Merv’s a classic peeper, a voyeur. If you were naked at his feet with your legs wide apart, he’d run the other way. I bet he spies on women whenever he gets the chance.’‘That’s what I’m always telling her. I hate the sod’s attitude to women, but he’s a bloody marvellous printer; brilliant. I’m sure he’d never harm anyone. Like Netta says, he’s a coward at heart.’I wondered why Leigh and Netta couldn’t see the mean hatred and lust for revenge that haunted Mervyn’s eyes. I was as certain of his menace as Leigh was convinced of his harmlessness.‘What did you do with those wet things when you took them off, Faith?’ Ma’s sudden question broke into my thoughts.‘They’re draining in the bath, Ma. I’ll bring them down when they’ve stopped dripping.’‘Good lass. Not like Netta. She don’t wear a lot, but what little there is she spreads over the whole house. If you’re not careful, young lady, you’ll end up doing your own laundry. And that’ll mean washing and ironing Leigh’s shirts to the standard he likes.’Netta gave a meaningful look at Leigh.‘Ma’s right.’She was unhappy about that. Ma caught my eye and grinned at Netta’s obvious discomfiture.The phone rang in the office. I found Zoë wanting Leigh. He went straight to the phone, much to Netta’s annoyance.‘Who’s Zoë?’‘One of Leigh’s girlfriends; a very attractive woman who lives in London. He went to college with her.’Ma nodded. ‘Lovely lass, Zoë. I’d hoped they’d marry at one time.’ She looked at me. ‘But now there’s someone better for him right under his nose.’Netta snorted. ‘Leigh’ll never marry Fay! He likes big tits and women who love to screw…’‘I like all breasts. Size isn’t an issue. Quality is what counts, and Faith has very lovely breasts. In fact, she’s a very lovely woman all over.’ He’d come back through to speak to Ma.‘Seen her tits, have you?’He looked at me and I knew he wouldn’t answer for fear of offending me.‘Yes. Leigh’s seen all of me, if you must know.’Netta was shocked into silence and I exchanged a knowing glance with Leigh.‘You okay for another mouth next weekend, Ma?’‘Zoë coming up for your birthday?’He nodded.‘Always welcome, is Zoë.’He went back into the office, closing the door behind him.‘Leigh’s birthday? He never said anything to me!’I smiled. For once, I knew something my sister did not. ‘Leigh’ll be thirty on Sunday.’A look of calculation crossed her face, making her appear rather mean for an instant. ‘Is he having a party?’‘Course he is! I’d not let Leigh’s birthday pass without celebration. And be warned, young lady, a lot of his previous girlfriends will be here. He always parts with them on good terms and they’re usually glad to come back to see him. No one owns our Leigh, so don’t run away with the idea that he’s yours exclusively.’‘Whatever made you think that? As long as there’s enough for me, I don’t care who has a piece of him. His popularity and the fact that he’s irresistible are part of what makes him attractive.’‘Mebbie. But will you ever have enough of him?’‘I always say you can’t have too much of a good thing.’‘I just don’t want you making trouble. Especially not on his birthday. Understood?’‘Wouldn’t dream of it, Ma.’But Netta’s eyes made me feel she wasn’t telling the truth and I wondered what she was scheming.


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Related articles Read My Novel, Free: Chapter 21 Read My Novel, Free: Chapter 20

The Writing Den; What's Yours?

Whether luck or prudence provided me with a room of my own is for others to determine. My suspicion is that, in common with most things in life, it's a mixture of these things. Be that as it may, I have the good fortune to have a room in which I can lock myself away from other concerns when I write.
It's not ideal. Small, with a window, behind me, that overlooks the end of the drive with the fence between us and the neighbours beyond and the garage door to the right. As I sit, at a desk built from a flat-pack kit bought some twenty or so years ago, I face the door into the hallway of our bungalow. At present, because I'm writing this before my wife and daughter have emerged from sleep, I have that door closed. Hanging from a hook on the back is a hand drawn map of the land I'm using to set my epic fantasy. Beside that, a cork board bears a few documents as aids in my everyday writing as well as a collage I made as part of the creative aspect of Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way course I'm currently undertaking. It depicts those things I most want in life and is intended as both motivator and reminder of why I do this thing; writing. Next to that is a portrait of my wife and a couple of self-designed posters to act as reminders about certain of my less positive aspects - positive statements to keep me on track.
A large, four drawer cabinet sits below these, housing an assortment of things that have nothing to do with my writing; it lives here as the only suitable location for such a metal monstrosity. Utilitarian but exceedingly useful.
Directly in front of the desk a small chest of drawers stores various bits and pieces and acts as base for my printers. Printers? Yes. A monochrome multifunction laser printer for my physical submissions; it gives the best quality text. And a colour inkjet for my drafts and to print off those things that need to be in colour, including photographs.
My desk holds the computer, which actually sits on the desk as there's no room on the floor, where my feet rest on a plastic footrest. A pair of headphones sits on top of the computer box, for those times I want to exclude all external noise, playing the music I have recorded onto the system. My flat screen monitor is directly ahead, on one of those rotating stands that allows it to be moved out of the way. The speakers sit either side and the mouse, along with a graphics pad rest to my right. The box of gubbins that projects the internet signal to my wife and daughter's computers also lurks there, under the monitor. A document stand rises with various bits of essential paperwork to the left and a coaster holds a glass of water (I never drink alcohol in here, though wine is stored in a rack just behind the door.)
I have pens, pads and post-it notes at hand either behind me on the windowsill or on the desk itself. The drawers to my right hold all the essential stationery and other stuff I might need.
The walls on either side are lined from floor to ceiling with shelves bearing most of my books. My essential reference volumes are within easy reach for all those occasions I need to consult an oracle.
I play music as I write. Not because I listen to it, but because it excludes those external sounds that might otherwise distract me. I have two playlists. One mostly of popular music and giving 2 days of tunes if played constantly. The other contains classical music and would last for a day and a half if played without stopping. I play them alternately and use the random selection option so I never know what track is coming next.
A radiator at my back keeps me warm in winter and the window above it can be opened for fresh air and cooling breezes in summer.
There is little decoration, largely because there's very little spare wall space. But there's room for a few pictures and I intend to fill that soon. I also have a couple of small statuettes; one a porcelain slip cast in white of a female torso that I picked up from a potter in the Yorkshire Dales many years ago. The other is a fairly primitive carving of a kneeling woman, which I found in a shop on the Greek island of Rhodes, a favourite holiday destination. I like it for its simplicity and natural quality.
So, there you have it. The place I use to create my works.
Is it ideal? Of course not. I'd love a large library room, with an antique desk and plenty of space to spread out, and a view overlooking the sea, to which I could walk in minutes. But that's the dream and it'll take a lot more work to make it reality.
But it is my own room. My private space. I can relax in here and do as I wish. My wife and daughter respect my need for solitary times and rarely interrupt me, unless they have some sudden computer issue that needs sorting or some domestic emergency arises that I'm best suited to resolve.
I have my space and I make great use of it. I admire those writers, usually women, who are forced to carry out their craft at the dining table with family as constant distraction. To create under such conditions would be almost impossible for me, and I salute their dedication and ability.
So, where do you write? Share your space with others who visit this site and see if we can't, between us, inspire some creativity.  
Related articles Author Jo Ramsey on her Writing Space and Writing Methods [image error]

The Anome, by Jack Vance, Reviewed.

Described on the back cover of the Coronet edition I read, as Science Fantasy, this novel was first published in 1971, and is the first of a trilogy. I come late to it via my brother who was disposing of it during a small house clearance. I'm glad I chanced upon it.
The setting is another world; the time, the very distant future, when humans have left the Solar System and colonised other planets. This is a world without the computer as we know it, though certain of the tools and devices display functions that we normally associate with computers.
The inhabitants of this strange world, orbiting a binary star system, have degenerated into a great number of disparate tribes, all with their own specific beliefs and prejudices. Violence is almost unheard of, except in the brutal way that life is terminated in the case of transgression. But a breed of what seem to be mutants descend from the wild hills and prey on the women to ensnare and impregnate them to act as brood mares for their offspring. It is this outbreak of uncharacteristic wild violence that spurs the hero into action.
Sects of various types illustrate the way that religion and faith can so easily dominate an otherwise rational population to the detriment of freedom, love and compassion.
I don't wish to give away too much about the story, which is compelling and well constructed. Peopled by believable characters who interact with a strange politeness within the overly controlled society they inhabit, the world is disturbingly odd and yet familiar. Much remains unexplained but footnotes give occasional descriptions of some of the oddly named features and events. The reader is a stranger here but finds empathy with the main character, the hero, introduced as Mur but maturing through ritual to become Etzwane.There are huge injustices and the sexes are distinctly separate in both temperament and treatment.
I found the story intriguing and grew to empathise with Etzwane in spite of his oddly detached and understated care and compassion for his mother. His determination to act when all around him those in power are determined not to act is endearing. But he is, in common with his fellow inhabitants, strangely unemotional and seeks rational explanations for behaviour which we would accept as springing from emotional sources.
This is a world with little metal but much glass, which is used in its stead for many objects. It is a world of rich and poor, fanatical faithful and determined secular, high fashion and drab utilitarianism. In these respects, much like the Earth from whence these colonists sprang many centuries previously.
The story winds, twists and turns, with much action interspersed with conversation that explains the differences between the various cults without saying how these differences came about. There is a little too much exposition; too much tell and not enough show for a modern reader, but I was prepared to overlook that because the quality of the writing was otherwise very good.
As is common with the fantasy trilogy, this first volume ends after a sort of conclusion of one part of the action, but this is not the satisfactory ending to a book that most readers seek. Clearly the intention is to ensnare the reader into following the rest of the trilogy. And, had I not over 180 titles in my 'to read' list, I might be tempted to do just that. As it is, I have other dishes to sample and whether I ever return to the tale remains to be seen.
For readers of imaginative fantasy I suspect this will prove very satisfactory. It certainly deserves notice for its depth and breadth of imagination; the world being well conceived and constructed. For those who prefer their fantasy fiction in a more predictable form, there are too many oddities and disturbing aspects without the usual crop of thieves, dragons, dwarves or other magical creatures. This is a book with an entirely individual agenda and, as such, I commend it to you.
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Sensuous Touches, Now Available on Amazon

This collection of 8 short stories (ranging from 9,000 to 1,000 words, so plenty of variety in length) features alpha males and stunning females in exciting pairings. These tales will excite both genders. There are thrills spiced with lust and desire, fantasy love affairs, an adult fairy tale and an example of bondage for those who like their fantasy sex a little out there.
Written for enjoyment, these stories will stimulate, entice, tease, entertain, arouse, amuse, and ultimately satisfy. Read alone or with the special someone you want to share yourself with. But, most of all, enjoy. Life is too short to miss the pleasures available.
The new anthology of erotic stories is now available to be viewed and bought on Amazon UK here priced at £2.01 and on Amazon USA here at a cost of $3.09 (I imagine it's at $2.99 for USA buyers, but Amazon knows I'm in the UK, so adds a bit to the price).For those purchasing from Europe, the cost is €2.60 via your own versions of Amazon.If you'd like a free copy so you can review it, have a look at the post below and follow the simple instructions.The book is also available via Smashwords, using this link. 
A Wordle composite formed from the words most commonly used in the book.
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