Gerald Dean Rice's Blog, page 78

Fleshbags

I always get these notices of books from Amazon, but I’m never on them. Finally, they picked me and my book is first no less.

Connected by DROID on Verizon Wireless

Every Day Horror- Follow-up

Okay, so it’s not quite working out the way I’d planned.  That’s fine, I suppose.  I’ve been pretty busy wrapping up an editing project.  But I do have my composition notebook and I have my second short story idea and I may even have a tie-in to it for a new novel.  I have to flesh everything out to see if it’ll work.  But I suspect later on today I’ll have this editing thing wrapped and I can jump on Bugs.  Once that’s through, I’ll circulate it to some reviewers and get to work on my cover.

I have two pretty good ideas for covers, but I’m having difficulty finding the artwork for it.  I may have to dig really deep and create something.  I haven’t drawn in a loooooong time, but if I have to, I have to.  The one idea is simple enough, but the other requires getting many different pictures of insects (considering the bugs in my story don’t exist, I won’t be able to find pics of them).

Hey, as an aside, if you’d like to get a review copy, drop me an email at razorlinepress@att.net.  I’m always looking for new reviewers.

Margins for Kindle Publishing

I had someone ask me today about margins for publishing on Kindle. I honestly don’t know how to avoid those translation errors like when a paragraph or a series of consecutive paragraphs get tabbed over too far. I haven’t looked through the whole thing, but so far, The Zombie Show looks pretty good. I used the same formatting for it as I did for the print version. Below are my margins:

And here’s my layout:

If this helps anybody, please let me know!

Shame on Them!

If you’re an independent author who’s just starting out, it is really easy to get lost. You might be intimidated by the Big Boys like Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Smashwords and others. So you might think you need to hire a service to guide you through everything. The sad thing is you don’t, but that isn’t stopping companies from trying to take advantage of you.

I chanced across a company called Alpha Academic Press on Craig’s List. Now, I’ll be careful not to say anything defamatory, but according to their own ad on Craig’s List “We make your book available to the general public through Amazon.com”. I’m assuming they charge for this service, otherwise they are the nicest people in the world.

But if you have your own cover already and an edited manuscript in a .doc file, seriously, you don’t need them. The Kindle publishing process is super simple and absolutely free. I’m hoping to do a seminar at a local library just to show people exactly how easy it is (including setting up bank account information so you can get paid). I could see Alpha Academic’s service being useful to technophobes, but then again, technophobes are probably not reading on-line ads and don’t get the whole eBook thing.

An unnamed company on Craig’s List advertised much the same service, except they “…are an eBook publishing company that works with Amazon and Barnes & Nobel to get your book published!” Oh, well, they must be better- they work with two companies. Sorry, Barnes and Noble has just as easy a process to publish as Amazon. In some respects it may be even easier. I’m looking for the trifecta or maybe the fourfecta with a company that will publish on Smashwords and Lulu as well. These companies have no special relationship with these stores. They have a guy who knows the same as I do who takes your Word file, uploads it, takes your .JPG for your cover, uploads that, slaps some text in for a description that you provide and then cashes your check. That probably takes all of five minutes. Seriously.

I think I’m going to take some play-by-play screenshots to post on my blog for anyone who wants to see for themselves how it works. Maybe I’ll put my own ad on Craig’s List. Correction- I’ve already done that.

Dead Right, ep 2

The outside of the building had been very non-descript.  The only thing that really stood out was the well kept and fenced-in grounds so out of place with the surrounding homes.

Wenton would have guessed Dell was taking him to meet girls, but this was something more.  He would have politely turned the one his brother had picked out for him down had that been the case.  Wenton still saw his wife’s face on just about every other woman he saw.  No, the fact his brother had brought him anywhere else showed true growth.  It also meant he might not know him as well as he thought.  Wenton was proud and disappointed at the same time.

He nudged his arm as they followed the lispy man in the Brookes Brothers suit.  “Where are we?”

“In a minute.”  Dell’s voice was distant.  He was uncomfortable with something and that made no sense at all.  He did know where they were, didn’t he?

They came to a security desk and the man spoke in a low voice to the guard sitting behind it.  Somehow, the security man was fixing him and Dell in the same stare.  It was impressive and intimidating until he blinked and nodded.

The man who’d led them in stood upright and turned around.

“I’m sorry, gentlemen, I’ve forgotten my manners.”  He stuck his hand out between Dell and Wenton.  “Larry Nibor.”

“Oh, Dr. Nibor,” Dell stepped in front of the offered hand and took it, gave a few good pumps.  “Windel White.  This is my brother Wenton.”

“Pleased to meet you.”  Wenton took his hand.  It felt squishy, like if he squeezed it Nibor’s eyes might bulge out of his head and schloop back in when he let go.  He resisted the urge to wipe his hand on his pants.

“I appreciate you giving me the title, but I’m not a doctor.”  Wenton noticed that the man hadn’t stopped smiling since they’d arrived at the front door.  “I’m the director, though.”  He looked at the security guard.  “Lenny, we’re going to go in now.”

“All right, sir.”

Nibor went to the side of the desk and walked over to a door that occupied an entire wall.  It had to be ten feet by fifteen.  He punched in a code and slid his hand into a port.  The door beeped and a green light came on just above his head.  Things inside clicked and whirred and then the door began to slowly swing open.

Nibor turned and spoke to the group.  “We currently have three tanks in operation, with a fourth to come online sometime next month.”  He looked at Dell specifically.  “I believe you wanted Tank three, correct?”

Dell swallowed.  “Yeah.”  What was going on with him?  They followed Nibor inside.

“Y’know, we appreciate you coming down.  With the coming legislation, we could be potentially put out of business before we even begin.  A significant amount of money has been invested already and we’ll need to solicit more funds to go on to the next phase of the project.”

“Well, the mayor’s office is just trying to get ahead of this whole undead thing,” Dell said.  “We want to wind up on the right side of the fence.  I appreciate you taking the time out of your busy schedule to… show us your research.”

“Research?”  Alarm bells started going off in Wenton’s head.  He hadn’t missed the ‘undead’ thing.  Wenton didn’t do well around the dead.  His grandparents, his uncle—he hadn’t been able to physically go to any of their funerals.  He was always grateful that his parents had been cremated.  But that urn with both their ashes in it… Wenton was glad Dell had taken it.  The only funeral he’d been able to attend—and even then just barely—was…

He turned to Dell.

“Who’s in Tank three?”

Dell shifted.  There was definitely something he hadn’t told him.

“It’s uhh… y’know, I was just thinking of you.  Y’know, you’ve just been so… y’know how you’ve been.  Not like you, but…  C’mon, it’s almost been two years!”

Wenton took a step back from his brother.

“Is that my wife in there?  Is that Cara?”

Dell dropped his head.  He didn’t say anything, but Wenton had his answer.

“How could y—” he stopped short on his sentence.  Dell felt really small.

“Gentlemen?”  He took his eyes away from Dell, looking over to the man he’d forgotten was in the room.  “Is there an issue?”

“No.”  Dell was back on the clock, his face had none of the guilt from a second ago.  “Just having a little chat with my consultant.”  He turned to Wenton.  “You can examine her for yourself.  Get those answers you’ve been wanting.”

Wenton stared at his brother several minutes.  All the answers he’d been wanting were potentially on the other side of that door.  He finally looked over at Nibor.

“Shall we?”

He nodded.

 

That Nibor guy was a weirdo.  Dell had to wash his hands for a half hour to get the creep off after he’d met him two days ago and he’d had to resist the urge to recoil from it tonight.  Wenton was pissed at him, but in the end his little brother would come around.  He hoped.  But Dell had to try something.

It was all because of the kid.  Sure as shit Dell loved him and would take care of him if he absolutely had to, but there was no way little Toddy wasn’t going to get screwed up somehow, someway.  Dell didn’t know anything about taking care of kids.  He’d tried babysitting his nephew once and damn near killed him.  By the time Wenton and Cara got back home, Dell was sobbing worse than the baby.  It would have been one thing if they had never had any kids and Cara had died.  He could get a nurse or something for his brother, but foster care was no way to raise a child.

No.  He had to get his little brother back on track and this was the best—the only—way he saw how.  He watched Nibor punch in another code after giving Wenton the same explanation he’d gotten the other day, and then the door to Tank 3 lifted.

Wenton’s eyes slid over to him before going inside.  He looked like he’d already seen a ghost.

Not yet, little brother, he wanted to say, but no words felt appropriate just then.  Wenton went inside and Nibor closed and locked the door behind him.

“Why the lock?”

“Just a safety precaution.”  Nibor waved his hand through the air like he was conducting at the DSO.

You didn’t lock the door when I went inside, he thought, but didn’t say anything.  He walked back to the entrance to this big room.

This had to work.

Even if Wenton hated him for the rest of his life.

Dell could admit, even if only to himself, this was more for him than his brother.  It was selfish, but he would live with that.

He turned to the officer behind him.  Duvall, his name was.

“So how was your weekend?”

The wall of a man declined his head to him, his face as unreadable as a sheet of steel, especially behind those sunglasses.

“Went to Belle Isle.”

“Oh, that’s cool.  What was going on there?”

Another pause before answering.  Dell was sure that was his subtle way of saying he didn’t care for conversation.  “Family reunion.”

Dell gave several head pumps, nodding slow and long and folding his arms.

They stood in silence for a while, Nibor staying over by the door.  There was a coffee pot over by a wall and Dell made himself a cup.  Lots of cream,lots of sugar.

It was really terrible coffee and he had to sip small amounts of it for it to be tolerable.  He resumed his spot a foot away from the executive protection officer.

Dell was about three-fourths of the way done with the coffee when Wenton emerged.

Dell met Nibor at the door before the man could begin questioning his brother.

“You can expect a copy of the mayor’s report probably in a few days,” he said, taking the man’s hand and giving it a shake.  Nibor tried to look over his shoulder at Wenton and Dell side-stepped to block his view.

“Okay, I’m sure that will be excellent,” Nibor said.  “But could I perhaps have his initial impressions?”

“Well, that’s not really how these things are done,” Dell said, still holding Nibor’s hand.  “Maybe he can give you a first-blush sometime this morning.  I can give him your card.  But he’d have a report to you by Wednesday or so.”  He let go of Nibor’s hand and turned to his brother.  “You ready to go?”

“I want her,” Wenton mumbled.  He still had a look of dull shock on his face.

“What?”

“I want her.”  Wenton looked at him.  Dell knew that look.  He remembered the tantrums when they were kids and Dell got something and he didn’t.  Wenton had put up a fuss then and looked like he was about to now.  If Dell didn’t think of something right now to placate both men this would turn south in a very bad way.

“Excuse me, what did he say?” Nibor asked.

“He said,” Dell slowly turned back, “he wants to take it with us.  To examine it in a more natural environment.”

“That’s absolutely out of the question.”

“Look, the mayor has a few million federal dollars of his own to ferret through this undead business.  Maybe your grant falls through, maybe it doesn’t.  It might be nice to have a safety net, don’t you think?”

Nibor licked his lips.  For the first time tonight, his cool exterior melted away.  He looked nervous.

“I will need to make a few phone calls.  But this is not what we were—”

“Make your phone calls, Mr. Nibor.  We’ll wait.”

Nibor retreated into an ante-room.  Dell turned to his brother.

“What the hell are you making me do?”

“I told you.  I want her.”

“You mean like want want?  What are we talking?”

Wenton blinked.  “No.  I know she isn’t my wife, but… she has her memories.”

“And?”  Dell shook his head, trying to understand or hoping common sense would sink into Wenton’s head.

“Look, it’s like I always said.  Something else happened.  Cara wasn’t even supposed to be on that side of the city.  She told me—”

“Who told you?”

“The she—it.”  Wenton pointed to the tank.

“So you were actually able to talk to it?”

“Yes, and—”

“Look, I set this all up for you to get peace of mind.  So you could say goodbye.”  Dell got really close to his brother.  “There was a lot of string-pulling to get you in here.  What you’re asking for is using good will I don’t have.  When Nibor comes back I’ll tell him we changed our minds about taking that thing.”

“No.  I meant what I said.  I want her.”

“Are you insane?”  Dell’s voice was a high whisper.  “Where are going to store that thing?  Are you going to put it in your basement?  With your son?”

“No… I—”

“You didn’t think about it.  I know.  But call this off now and let’s get home.  I can take care of the report.”

Wenton’s eyes had been roaming around the room.  They locked onto Dell.  “No.  I meant what I said.  Something else happened to Cara.  This thing can prove it.  Help me piece it together.”

“The police investigation is closed.  Nobody’s going to open it again on the basis of whatever it has to say.”

“I don’t care.  I need to know.”  Wenton beat his chest with his palm.  “After what you just pulled, bringing me here, you owe me.”

That stung in a way Dell hadn’t intended.  He wanted to argue more.  To try to get reason into his brother, but he was at a loss.

“Okay.  But two days.  No more.  Got it?”

Wenton nodded.

They stood in silence for what felt like at least ten minutes.  Dell could hear Nibor in there occasionally, but couldn’t make out what the man was saying.  Finally he came out.

He looked like he must have taken a moment to calm himself, like he’d been smoothing down the front of that expensive suit jacket until he’d recomposed himself.  Nibor was tall, easily six-eight, and strode across the room to them, looking like a well-dressed train the way he pumped his arms with each step.

“My superiors have acquiesced,” he began slowly, “to your request of lending you 38-X4.  You may take it now or in the morning, whichever is your preference.”

“It’s kinda late,” Dell said.  He felt his brother loom closer and sensed his objection coming.  “We need to make a few arrangements in preparation.”

“We’ll take her now.”

Dammit!

Dell forced a smile.  “Whatever works best.”

“Very good.  You will have a period of twenty-four hours from the time the 38-X4 is released into your custody.”

“I want three days.”

What the hell?

This time Dell did look at his brother, stabbing him as best he could with daggers in his eyes.  Wenton looked sheepish a second, but didn’t back down.  He looked back at Nibor.

“Three days.”

Nibor winced as if he’d been punched, but he held his tongue a moment before speaking.  What was this costing him?

“Very good.”  Nibor forced his own smile and extending that well-manicured paw of his again.  Dell shook it and found none of the soppy fish-hand the man had given before.  It was dry and firm.

“So, uhh, what do we do?”

“Wait in the lobby.  There is some information I need to give you and then the 38-X4 is yours for the next seventy-two hours.”  He escorted Dell and his brother to the door, with the executive protection officer firmly in tow.  The giant door shut behind them and they rejoined the other guard at the desk.

Dell was incensed.  Here he was, hanging his neck out for Wenton and his brother does almost everything possible to screw him over.  If he could have trusted the aside would have been for Wenton’s ears only he would have laid into him right now.  But he could wait until they got back in the limo.

It didn’t take long.

Everyday Horror

I got this idea today and I’m going to try to do it.  Just Everyday Horror stories (don’t know if that’s the title or if that’s just how it feels right now) where I’ll take a real event in my life and inject horror into it somehow.  This idea may fail terribly, but it’s interesting right now and I’m gonna run with it.

Dethm8 on Hiatus

Sorry, I forgot to let everyone know before last Friday, but I didn’t post a new installment of Dethm8 last Friday and there won’t be one this Friday, either.  I’m working on something I have to get done in the next few days and I won’t be able to concentrate on it.  So instead, look for the 2nd installment of Dead Right tomorrow.

Another Great Review for Fleshbags

I just saw this one yesterday on Amazon.  Keep ‘em comin’!

This was an entertaining little zombie story; I especially liked the variety of characters caught up in the zombie plague running rampant, nobody in any walk of life could escape the horror. As for the ending: see if you read the last couple pages over and over as many times as I did! I went on to check out the rest of the author’s books, and will be reading more of him.

Reminder about your invitation from Gerald Rice

This is a reminder that on August 1, Gerald Rice sent you an invitation to become part of their professional network at LinkedIn.

Accept Gerald Rice’s Invitation



































On August 1, Gerald Rice wrote:

> To: []

> From: Gerald Rice [gerald.rice76@sbcglobal.net]

> Subject: Invitation to connect on LinkedIn

> I’d like to add you to my professional network on LinkedIn.

>

> – Gerald















































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Congratulations from Necon E-Books!

Well, shut my mouth! I just got this from Necon e-Books. I’m not sure exactly what I won, but being American, that’s really all that matters.

Dear Gerald,It is my pleasure to inform you that your story, “Debit,” has been named a winner of the Necon E-Books July Flash Fiction Contest.  Your piece will be published on our web site at www.neconebooks.com/flash.htm later today, and will also be included in our end of the year Flash Fiction Anthology.Also on the site, you can find the guidelines for our August contest; naturally, we hope you’ll consider submitting again.As always Gerald, our sincerest thanks for your continued support, interest, and involvement with our company.  We greatly appreciate you sharing your talent with us, and we look forward to reading more of your work in the future.

Very best regards,

- Matt Bechtel

Production Manager, Necon E-Books