Craig Saunders's Blog, page 8
December 7, 2018
Unmental Health
I've been rather poorly for a long time. Ooh, about twenty years? Probably longer, but about that since they put a label on it. Used to be called Schizoaffective Disorder. Now I think they just stopped beating about the bush and call it Schizophrenic Affective Disorder. It's a doozy, but it's not a competition. If you're poorly in the head, I feel for you, son. x
Things fall apart. The centre cannot hold. That covers it pretty well.
I try to post about my brain hobby every now and then in the hope that it helps someone else. I don't do it for cathartic reasons. Talking about it doesn't help me. But it does help other people to speak openly about mental illness, and I think it helps combat the stigma attatched to mental illnesses, too. I don't give a fuck, because I live in a shed. A lot of people do, however, because they struggle with not only mental illness, but also with others perceptions of their mental illness.
Sometimes people say they wish they had my life. I sit in a shed, listen to music, write all day. Idylic, right?
Well, I don't watch TV because I hear voices and sometimes it's confusing. I nearly never leave the house because of anxiety and paranoia. I write all day because I'm intelligent and that intellect is sometimes an enemy which needs to be focused outside of myself.
I take care to even think nice thoughts just in case someone can read the bad ones. Keeps me nice, sure, but it's not the greatest, if I'm honest.
I was reaching what's called a crisis point, so I got my crisis pills. They're the ones I only take when it's all falling apart. I only take them then because they make me happy, and floaty, but also sleepy. If you're asleep all the time, you can't really function. I asked the doctor once how people with schizophrenia worse than mine cope - they don't, was his reply. It's largely an all or nothing deal. Schizoaffective is slightly lighter, I guess. Maybe. It's kind of a mix with schizophrenia and bipolar disorder, so there's a middle ground where I can function, on a limited basis. But to do that? I prioritise. My priority is my family, and then work. If I can manage those, then it's as good as it's going to get.
It's not a secret, and it's not 'brave' me telling you this stuff...it's not 'brave', because I'm putting nothing on the line by talking about it. But what is brave is those people who struggle daily to put food on the table when they want to curl into a ball. Those people who wear long sleeves and long dresses to hide the scars they cut and burn to feel something. Those people who get up and leave the house when they really want an errant bus to hit them so they might take a day or two off instead.
Anyone coping with mental illness - any illness, not just mental, because it's all the body really - is brave, and doing their best. It's not a free pass to be a dick, and you're an adult, right? So you still try. Sometimes you fail. Sometimes you succeed. You do your best, just like everyone else.
But if you're ill, if you're on the edge, or over it, or in the pit, or don't even know where you are...someone does love you. You are not alone. You might be able to carry on, to do better...you might not. But you're not alone.
xxx
Unless, of course, you want to be. Don't worry. There is literally zero chance of me knocking on your door unannounced. Or ever. Or calling. Or texting. Trust me, I will leave you alone, so you don't need to stress about me. ;)
Love you, and love you all. Be cool.
Things fall apart. The centre cannot hold. That covers it pretty well.
I try to post about my brain hobby every now and then in the hope that it helps someone else. I don't do it for cathartic reasons. Talking about it doesn't help me. But it does help other people to speak openly about mental illness, and I think it helps combat the stigma attatched to mental illnesses, too. I don't give a fuck, because I live in a shed. A lot of people do, however, because they struggle with not only mental illness, but also with others perceptions of their mental illness.
Sometimes people say they wish they had my life. I sit in a shed, listen to music, write all day. Idylic, right?
Well, I don't watch TV because I hear voices and sometimes it's confusing. I nearly never leave the house because of anxiety and paranoia. I write all day because I'm intelligent and that intellect is sometimes an enemy which needs to be focused outside of myself.
I take care to even think nice thoughts just in case someone can read the bad ones. Keeps me nice, sure, but it's not the greatest, if I'm honest.
I was reaching what's called a crisis point, so I got my crisis pills. They're the ones I only take when it's all falling apart. I only take them then because they make me happy, and floaty, but also sleepy. If you're asleep all the time, you can't really function. I asked the doctor once how people with schizophrenia worse than mine cope - they don't, was his reply. It's largely an all or nothing deal. Schizoaffective is slightly lighter, I guess. Maybe. It's kind of a mix with schizophrenia and bipolar disorder, so there's a middle ground where I can function, on a limited basis. But to do that? I prioritise. My priority is my family, and then work. If I can manage those, then it's as good as it's going to get.
It's not a secret, and it's not 'brave' me telling you this stuff...it's not 'brave', because I'm putting nothing on the line by talking about it. But what is brave is those people who struggle daily to put food on the table when they want to curl into a ball. Those people who wear long sleeves and long dresses to hide the scars they cut and burn to feel something. Those people who get up and leave the house when they really want an errant bus to hit them so they might take a day or two off instead.
Anyone coping with mental illness - any illness, not just mental, because it's all the body really - is brave, and doing their best. It's not a free pass to be a dick, and you're an adult, right? So you still try. Sometimes you fail. Sometimes you succeed. You do your best, just like everyone else.
But if you're ill, if you're on the edge, or over it, or in the pit, or don't even know where you are...someone does love you. You are not alone. You might be able to carry on, to do better...you might not. But you're not alone.
xxx
Unless, of course, you want to be. Don't worry. There is literally zero chance of me knocking on your door unannounced. Or ever. Or calling. Or texting. Trust me, I will leave you alone, so you don't need to stress about me. ;)
Love you, and love you all. Be cool.
November 23, 2018
Why HORROR is the Big Cahuna of Genre Fiction.
Because it ends in death. Doesn't matter what it is, horror's everywhere. It's omniscient. It's what waits for all of us, the shadow behind the fragile mirror we see ourselves through while we're alive, balanced on a knife's edge. It's the thought of our illicit romance being brought to light, the terror of the unknown and the wide, seemingly endless expanse of space. It's the fear, facing down a dragon with wit and blade alone. Horror is death, and terror, and pain, and that's consistent for all life. A shadow hidden beneath broad black wings which wait to unfurl at the final hurdle for all adventurers in life.
That's the lie, isn't it? That the hero, the main character, the protagonist, might get out alive. They won't. They can't. Death, the unreliable narrator, tell us the character won out against the eldritch monsters, the serial killer, the slasher, the alien threat, the joy of exploration whether of a new lover or a new planet or a dark, dank cave.
But we don't. No one gets out alive. Death's there at the end. He's not unreliable at all; we are. We lie to ourselves in our fiction. He's the one waiting on us all. The universal truth. He never lied about that.
Everything ends with decay and we can't fight the inexorable pull of those dread black wings.
He's the last lover we'll know, the true final frontier, and we're all designed to fail, no matter how many times we might win.
Science Fiction, Fantasy, Romance and all you zombies, all you contenders, go ahead and try and put horror in a corner. You can't. It'll still be there. Death can't die. Can't be beat.
Run, hide...it will catch you, and there ain't no coming back, man. There ain't no coming back.
Love you.
x
That's the lie, isn't it? That the hero, the main character, the protagonist, might get out alive. They won't. They can't. Death, the unreliable narrator, tell us the character won out against the eldritch monsters, the serial killer, the slasher, the alien threat, the joy of exploration whether of a new lover or a new planet or a dark, dank cave.
But we don't. No one gets out alive. Death's there at the end. He's not unreliable at all; we are. We lie to ourselves in our fiction. He's the one waiting on us all. The universal truth. He never lied about that.
Everything ends with decay and we can't fight the inexorable pull of those dread black wings.
He's the last lover we'll know, the true final frontier, and we're all designed to fail, no matter how many times we might win.
Science Fiction, Fantasy, Romance and all you zombies, all you contenders, go ahead and try and put horror in a corner. You can't. It'll still be there. Death can't die. Can't be beat.
Run, hide...it will catch you, and there ain't no coming back, man. There ain't no coming back.
Love you.
x
November 19, 2018
Thank you - 100,000 visits!
That's at a rate of around visit a year over 100,000 years, but nevermind that. Thank you for putting up with my nonsense.
Rather than prattle on about me, me, me, I thought I'd share some of the stuff I've been reading over the last year. I try only to mention things or people I enjoy.
Frederick Douglass
Pat Cadigan
Neal Asher
Ernest Hemmingway
Isaac Asimov
Ursula Le Guin
Cory Doctorow
Ian Creasey
Elizabeth Bear
Langston Hughes
Carl Sagan
Tim Lebbon
Alexandre Dumas
Kurt Vonnegut Jr
Karl Marx
Isaac Newton
Graham McNeill
James S. A. Corey
William Gibson
Martha Wells
Kameron Hurley
Yoon Ha Lee
That'll do. It's not a recommended reading list or anything, just some people whose thoughts and stories I've enjoyed.
Love you. x
Here's a picture. It's not mine. It's by Sergey Kondratovich. I just like robots.
Rather than prattle on about me, me, me, I thought I'd share some of the stuff I've been reading over the last year. I try only to mention things or people I enjoy.
Frederick Douglass
Pat Cadigan
Neal Asher
Ernest Hemmingway
Isaac Asimov
Ursula Le Guin
Cory Doctorow
Ian Creasey
Elizabeth Bear
Langston Hughes
Carl Sagan
Tim Lebbon
Alexandre Dumas
Kurt Vonnegut Jr
Karl Marx
Isaac Newton
Graham McNeill
James S. A. Corey
William Gibson
Martha Wells
Kameron Hurley
Yoon Ha Lee
That'll do. It's not a recommended reading list or anything, just some people whose thoughts and stories I've enjoyed.
Love you. x
Here's a picture. It's not mine. It's by Sergey Kondratovich. I just like robots.
October 29, 2018
Red Ice Run sold out
I don't know what I'm expecting when I write a book, but it's always a surprise when people buy or read them. Red Ice Run, a little mobsters versus vikings novel with Ryan C. Thomas went to Thunderstorm Books for a limited run and sold out. That's pretty cool.
They're beautiful things, too. If you have one, thank you very much for buying it, and thanks to Thunderstorm and of course Ryan, too.
Love you.
They're beautiful things, too. If you have one, thank you very much for buying it, and thanks to Thunderstorm and of course Ryan, too.
Love you.
October 20, 2018
Lore Audio coming soon
I approved the audio for Lore, read by Mike Fallek, so as soon as it's cleared through ACX it'll be available for purchase from Amazon, Audible, and iTunes.
Mike's Bio:
Mike Fallek studied film and voices his own pet documentary mostly focused on pet history (Hamsters: The History, and Spiders Will Eat Your Face) because animals cannot write it themselves. His films have appeared on tv, are available in libraries, and are featured on many online platforms. Mike is a podcaster of note with a weekly audience into the 7,000 plus listeners. Also an animator, all of Mike's work commercial and independent plus contact information can be found on http://bigweasellilweasel.club
Lore's available permafree as an eBook, as a paperback, and the link's here if you want to read the words on paper or screen:
https://www.books2read.com/b/mBPGDk
or on Amazon where you are.
Mike's Bio:
Mike Fallek studied film and voices his own pet documentary mostly focused on pet history (Hamsters: The History, and Spiders Will Eat Your Face) because animals cannot write it themselves. His films have appeared on tv, are available in libraries, and are featured on many online platforms. Mike is a podcaster of note with a weekly audience into the 7,000 plus listeners. Also an animator, all of Mike's work commercial and independent plus contact information can be found on http://bigweasellilweasel.club
Lore's available permafree as an eBook, as a paperback, and the link's here if you want to read the words on paper or screen:
https://www.books2read.com/b/mBPGDk
or on Amazon where you are.
October 18, 2018
Bingo Bango Bongo Red Ice Run News.
Title's not relevant at all. Just thought I should post something on here and I like the song.
'Red Ice Run' from Thunderstorm Books, written by me and Ryan C. Thomas, came out two days ago as a 52-copy limited signed hardback edition.
The cover art is from Dave Kendall, the lettering by Zach McCain. 51 have sold, so there's one left. I think my maths is right on that, but I can never be sure.
The link is here if you're interested: http://thunderstormbooks.com/thunderstorm/book/red-ice-run/
Love you.
'Red Ice Run' from Thunderstorm Books, written by me and Ryan C. Thomas, came out two days ago as a 52-copy limited signed hardback edition.
The cover art is from Dave Kendall, the lettering by Zach McCain. 51 have sold, so there's one left. I think my maths is right on that, but I can never be sure.
The link is here if you're interested: http://thunderstormbooks.com/thunderstorm/book/red-ice-run/
Love you.
September 20, 2018
Ghost Voices - New Release
I wrote this a while ago and never really knew what it was, or what to do it...so I put it out under my own 'Dark Fable Books' label. It's a supernatural, psychological military thriller. It was slated to be a DarkFuse release, but never made it because they died. I didn't, yet, so I made the cover, formatted it, and here it is:
There's a sample and the back cover copy in the 'Excerpts' section near the top of the blog, but here's the back cover copy if you're interested.
Graham Calder was once a soldier. He lives a quiet life now, far from people in the Scottish Highlands, ever since a terrible injury in Afghanistan. It wasn't the enemy who scarred him, though - it was his brother-in-arms, Simon Bussey. Now Bussey's back.
The Grant sisters, Claire and Emily, hope for an adventure in Scotland's forests and mountains. Neither planned on fighting for their lives as they become entangled in the soldiers' deadly feud.
Bussey assumes Calder hides away because of his injury. He's wrong. Calder lives with schizophrenia, and can, because a ghost taught him to lock the nightmares in a box inside his mind. If he opens the box and let his demons out, will the Grant sisters survive?
They might...or it might just be Calder who kills them all.
I'll update this post and the sample section when it goes live, and probably won't bother harping on about it much because I'm moving on to the next thing.
Love you. x
There's a sample and the back cover copy in the 'Excerpts' section near the top of the blog, but here's the back cover copy if you're interested.
Graham Calder was once a soldier. He lives a quiet life now, far from people in the Scottish Highlands, ever since a terrible injury in Afghanistan. It wasn't the enemy who scarred him, though - it was his brother-in-arms, Simon Bussey. Now Bussey's back.
The Grant sisters, Claire and Emily, hope for an adventure in Scotland's forests and mountains. Neither planned on fighting for their lives as they become entangled in the soldiers' deadly feud.
Bussey assumes Calder hides away because of his injury. He's wrong. Calder lives with schizophrenia, and can, because a ghost taught him to lock the nightmares in a box inside his mind. If he opens the box and let his demons out, will the Grant sisters survive?
They might...or it might just be Calder who kills them all.
I'll update this post and the sample section when it goes live, and probably won't bother harping on about it much because I'm moving on to the next thing.
Love you. x
August 12, 2018
Elmore Leonard's 10 Rules of Anti-Writing
Prologue
It was a dark and stormy night, but somewhere else and not where the story was set at all. Where the story was set, which was on a blog, it was hot as balls. Like the bayou, but only in underwear.
It was a writer who was writing the story, overthinking everything. He kept a gun in his pants, because Alfred Hitchcock indicated in a McGuffin style speech once that he should.
Chapter 2
SUDDENLY! As if by some catastrophic failure of mental hardware, the writer blurted out something in a strange accent that wasn't even his. 'Aye ham very well-educated,' in a blurty fashion, was what he said when he said it back then, in the speech marks. He used a long word, then, but irrelevantly and only thought it.
Hmm, he thought. That was perpendicular, and quite unnecessary to the story
...so he cut that part and noted 'TLDR' in the edited version.
Then, he put upon his sparsely-haired head a Burberry patterned trilby while he prepared to leave the library in the west wing of his caravan, which he didn't have, and he wasn't in the library, but it would have had books had it been interesting at all, but it wasn't. He'd cut that later, too. He resolved to spent less time blogging and more time working, but he wouldn't get the chance because of foreshadowing!
Hitching up his pants before setting out, he shot off his cock.
The End.
Epilogue
Love you.
It was a dark and stormy night, but somewhere else and not where the story was set at all. Where the story was set, which was on a blog, it was hot as balls. Like the bayou, but only in underwear.
It was a writer who was writing the story, overthinking everything. He kept a gun in his pants, because Alfred Hitchcock indicated in a McGuffin style speech once that he should.
Chapter 2
SUDDENLY! As if by some catastrophic failure of mental hardware, the writer blurted out something in a strange accent that wasn't even his. 'Aye ham very well-educated,' in a blurty fashion, was what he said when he said it back then, in the speech marks. He used a long word, then, but irrelevantly and only thought it.
Hmm, he thought. That was perpendicular, and quite unnecessary to the story
...so he cut that part and noted 'TLDR' in the edited version.
Then, he put upon his sparsely-haired head a Burberry patterned trilby while he prepared to leave the library in the west wing of his caravan, which he didn't have, and he wasn't in the library, but it would have had books had it been interesting at all, but it wasn't. He'd cut that later, too. He resolved to spent less time blogging and more time working, but he wouldn't get the chance because of foreshadowing!
Hitching up his pants before setting out, he shot off his cock.
The End.
Epilogue
Love you.
August 11, 2018
R.I.P. 'Drift Glass'
Not often I get to do an obit for two long stories in a week, or month, even, but the first draft of this is done. I'm doing the second through the night, and a final check tomorrow to send to Tor. I have rather large expectations of rejection, but I'm doing it anyway. It's near-future military scifi noir with a touch of space exploration, I guess. I suck at categories. I don't know. Haven't quite figured out how to pitch that.
Either way, 'Drift Glass', RIP.
Here's a picture. Gotta have a picture. This is Igor Sobolevsky, whose work I love...just like I love you.
Either way, 'Drift Glass', RIP.
Here's a picture. Gotta have a picture. This is Igor Sobolevsky, whose work I love...just like I love you.
August 10, 2018
R.I.P. 'It Always Rains when the Circus Comes to Town'
It's basically magic space clowns. That'll do for an explanation. I wrote it with Tor's open window in mind, and finished about a week ago...
...and, it's not that I don't like it (it's magic space clowns, what's not to like?) I just didn't feel it'd fit with Tor, and I didn't want to waste the chance. I sat down last Sunday and started something else instead, which I've got 'til this Sunday to finish. I'm not far off, and I don't know if I made the right choice writing something else, or if it'll make a difference either way, but what the hell. Worth a shot and a few late nights. Right?
Yeah, I don't know, either.
It Always Rains when the Circus Comes to Town is done, though, so whatever I decide to do with it won't be wasted, and fingers crossed I'll get the current one finished to submit, and be able to write a little obit on that (in time!).
Love you...back to work.
...and, it's not that I don't like it (it's magic space clowns, what's not to like?) I just didn't feel it'd fit with Tor, and I didn't want to waste the chance. I sat down last Sunday and started something else instead, which I've got 'til this Sunday to finish. I'm not far off, and I don't know if I made the right choice writing something else, or if it'll make a difference either way, but what the hell. Worth a shot and a few late nights. Right?
Yeah, I don't know, either.
It Always Rains when the Circus Comes to Town is done, though, so whatever I decide to do with it won't be wasted, and fingers crossed I'll get the current one finished to submit, and be able to write a little obit on that (in time!).
Love you...back to work.
