Rachel Lynn Brody's Blog, page 29
April 9, 2012
The Hot Mess Update: Print Editions, Radio Appearances & More
So you've been dying to read Hot Mess:speculative fiction about climate change since it came out, but you don't own an e-reader. Well, here's some good news for you: the book is finally available in print.
You can now purchase print editions of Hot Mess: speculative fiction about climate change via our CreateSpace E-Store. Within a week or so, this will populate out to Amazon, but in the meantime you can pick up a copy from CreateSpace.
Next up? I'll be calling in to Earth Day edition of The 99 Report's podcast to discuss Hot Mess with host and fellow indie author Allie, after a fortuitous Twitter introduction from @Uncucumbered. The show will also feature a discussion of how the Deepwater Horizon oil spill has affected the Gulf of Mexico and surrounding waters – so hopefully I'll be learning something while I'm there. In the meantime, here's a picture of Deepwater Horizon from today's xkcd.
I'm also putting together a guest blog for The Masquerade Crew as part of the A-Z challenge. My letter? S. My topic? Self-publishing. (Because really, why limit myself?) That should be going up some time around Earth Day, too. Is there anything about this process that readers and other indie authors want to know? Any questions I should try to bear in mind? Feel free to leave 'em in the comments.
PS – you can still buy Hot Mess: speculative fiction about climate change for Kindle, Nook and on Smashwords. Our Goodreads page is here.
PPS – Both print and e-readers have an environmental impact; by making the work available in both formats we hope our readers will be able to make a conscientious choice that fits their lifestyle.
April 7, 2012
THEATER REVIEW: “To Kill A Kelpie” by Matthew McVarish
First, to declare a bias – Matthew McVarish and I were at drama school together in Scotland, and I’ve previously reviewed his sold-out debut show, One man went to busk (it’s the second review on the page). In addition, he and I will be working on a project about marriage equality together later this year for Glasgay 2012.
That said, I’m pleased and lucky to be able to say that this new work, To Kill a Kelpie, offers an hour of drama both light and dark, and is a strong piece of theatrical art with a message. Co-produced by Poorboy Theater company Stop the Silence: Stop Child Sexual Abuse (where McVarish is also involved), and executive produced by Pamela Pine, the show is directed by Sandy Thomson.
The evening unfolds in two parts: first, McVarish’s hourlong drama about two brothers who finally break their own silence as regards something that was done to them both many years ago, then a guided discussion including representatives from various organizations that try to deal with ending sexual abuse.
As one might expect, there is heaviness to this drama. How could their not be, given the topic at hand? And yet McVarish’s script makes a conscious decision to take place in its own moment, as two brothers try to find a way of communicating through the silence that has plagued their adult relationship. As they try to understand what was done to them, the different coping mechanisms they ask themselves and the ways in which they parse the events that took place while they were children reveal two men who have each, in their own way, carried the scars of their abuse for years. Additionally, the quickness with which the two brothers reconnect lends itself well to lighter moments: this is not a play where the audience should be afraid to laugh from time to time.
The play asks uncomfortable questions: one brother reveals that he’s struggled to even recognize his own sexuality over the years, because he had tangled up the acts perpetrated upon him and his own desire to love other men. The other denies any feeling of having been affected, although it slowly becomes more obvious that, in fact, he has. Both brothers have found their relationships to others, particularly children, impossibly strained as they constantly try to sort through their own baggage.
Performers McVarish (as Fionnghall, the brother who seems, on the surface, to b e more of a loose canon) and Allan Lindsay (Dubhghal, who has returned from doing aid work among tsunami-afflicted natives somewhere quite far away) navigate the questions their characters ask themselves with honesty and frankness. Some parts of their conversation are uncomfortable: one admits he is afraid his sister doesn’t want him around her children, the other terrified he may have the potential to cause the same damage enacted upon him onto another. Forgiveness, revenge, therapy and repression are all tried as the characters range for coping mechanisms; in the end, it is conversation – speaking about their trauma, and about how each has begun the journey of unpacking that trauma – that offers the best hope for healing.
As the play draws to an ambiguous ending, the audience is invited to take a few moments to stretch before heading into a follow-up discussion. Led by Pamela Pine, the discussion first invites comments and questions from audience members before asking audience members if there’s anything they think they might do differently in their lives going forward. Aside from stressing the importance of parental and community involvement to determine when children might be at risk, the discussion also creates a space where audience members are invited to share their own stories of surviving abuse.
What was remarkable about this portion of the evening, to me, was the clarity with which one could see how To Kill a Kelpie had created a space where audience members, whose ages covered a large range, felt they could speak openly about experiences taking place around them. On opening night in New York City, audience members spoke – some at length – about how positive they found the play, and about how well it communicated emotions that echoed reactions they’d had to their own experiences.
For more information about Stop the Silence: Stop Child Sexual Abuse, you can visit their website at www.stopcsa.org. To Kill a Kelpie will run in NYC through April 15th, first in the East Village before heading uptown. More details are available on the production’s website.
THEATER REVIEW: "To Kill A Kelpie" by Matthew McVarish
First, to declare a bias – Matthew McVarish and I were at drama school together in Scotland, and I've previously reviewed his sold-out debut show, One man went to busk (it's the second review on the page). In addition, he and I will be working on a project about marriage equality together later this year for Glasgay 2012.
That said, I'm pleased and lucky to be able to say that this new work, To Kill a Kelpie, offers an hour of drama both light and dark, and is a strong piece of theatrical art with a message. Produced by Poorboy Theater company and directed by Sandy Thomson, the production is partnered with Stop the Silence: Stop Child Sexual Abuse, where McVarish is also involved.
The evening unfolds in two parts: first, McVarish's hourlong drama about two brothers who finally break their own silence as regards something that was done to them both many years ago, then a guided discussion including representatives from various organizations that try to deal with ending sexual abuse.
As one might expect, there is heaviness to this drama. How could their not be, given the topic at hand? And yet McVarish's script makes a conscious decision to take place in its own moment, as two brothers try to find a way of communicating through the silence that has plagued their adult relationship. As they try to understand what was done to them, the different coping mechanisms they ask themselves and the ways in which they parse the events that took place while they were children reveal two men who have each, in their own way, carried the scars of their abuse for years. Additionally, the quickness with which the two brothers reconnect lends itself well to lighter moments: this is not a play where the audience should be afraid to laugh from time to time.
The play asks uncomfortable questions: one brother reveals that he's struggled to even recognize his own sexuality over the years, because he had tangled up the acts perpetrated upon him and his own desire to love other men. The other denies any feeling of having been affected, although it slowly becomes more obvious that, in fact, he has. Both brothers have found their relationships to others, particularly children, impossibly strained as they constantly try to sort through their own baggage.
Performers McVarish (as Fionnghall, the brother who seems, on the surface, to b e more of a loose canon) and Allan Lindsay (Dubhghal, who has returned from doing aid work among tsunami-afflicted natives somewhere quite far away) navigate the questions their characters ask themselves with honesty and frankness. Some parts of their conversation are uncomfortable: one admits he is afraid his sister doesn't want him around her children, the other terrified he may have the potential to cause the same damage enacted upon him onto another. Forgiveness, revenge, therapy and repression are all tried as the characters range for coping mechanisms; in the end, it is conversation – speaking about their trauma, and about how each has begun the journey of unpacking that trauma – that offers the best hope for healing.
As the play draws to an ambiguous ending, the audience is invited to take a few moments to stretch before heading into a follow-up discussion. Led by Pamela Pine, the discussion first invites comments and questions from audience members before asking audience members if there's anything they think they might do differently in their lives going forward. Aside from stressing the importance of parental and community involvement to determine when children might be at risk, the discussion also creates a space where audience members are invited to share their own stories of surviving abuse.
What was remarkable about this portion of the evening, to me, was the clarity with which one could see how To Kill a Kelpie had created a space where audience members, whose ages covered a large range, felt they could speak openly about experiences taking place around them. On opening night in New York City, audience members spoke – some at length – about how positive they found the play, and about how well it communicated emotions that echoed reactions they'd had to their own experiences.
For more information about Stop the Silence: Stop Child Sexual Abuse, you can visit their website at www.stopcsa.org. To Kill a Kelpie will run in NYC through April 15th, first in the East Village before heading uptown. More details are available on the production's website.
April 2, 2012
The Unbearable Lightness of Being Really Sick
A few days ago, a friend's blog featured a guest post on body image – specifically in relation to dieting and discipline, and the idea of a child being put on a diet by their parents, and how early exposure to a culture of dieting sticks with us throughout our lives.
This week, I hit my lowest weight since high school, excepting one transient moment when I was seeing a trainer and got a bit lower – that lasted all of two weeks, and was in no way sustainable, as I was simply counteracting all the crap I ate at the time with seven or more hours a week at the gym. The second I stopped using a personal trainer, those pounds crept back on.
This week, on the other hand, is a totally different deal. I've lost eight pounds in three days. EIGHT POUNDS! SINCE LAST WEEK. Noticeably shrinking waist circumference! All my skinny clothes will fit again! Which means some of my larger-sized dresses are going to be too big for me now! I can give them away to other curvy ladies in need of some plus-size fashion! This should be exciting, right? Because giving dresses away leads to BUYING NEW DRESSES. Or something.
Oh wait, except I'm sick sick sick and haven't been out of bed in four days, my last square meal was on Wednesday last week, and I'm convinced the only thing that's currently keeping me alive is the all-natural root beer that's delivering sugar to my system, except that it also makes my heart pound, so today I'm switching it out for Lady Grey decaf with honey.
Also (cough hack hack cough) I think I dropped a bit of my lung over there, mind passing it back to me?
It doesn't help that this whole "loose jeans resulting from being quite sick" is also throwing a spotlight onto how feminism plays into my own life. Can I be happy to have lost a few pounds, when it's through illness? When I tweet that my jeans are loose and I'm not sure that I care why – and then a moment later confirm that actually, I realized I don't care why, but I'm going to have to parse the implications of that vis a vis feminism – and a friend, normally more committed to these things than I, then follows up to my "my jeans are loose" comment with "rough life" – are she and I both playing into a mode of approach that we both struggle, on a daily basis, not to reinforce? Does the fact that we acknowledge the ickiness of the logic behind the feelings give us the ability/permission to express them, nonetheless?
Those eight pounds didn't go anywhere because of any healthy decision I made. They got lost because I got sick. I have felt physically miserable for days. MISERABLE. (Does anyone else ever forget, so quickly, just how bad it feels to be sick? Because I swear I never think it's as bad as all that until the disease is IN ME and I feel like THIS:
Me, for the last four days
So the minute I think, well, at least this is one positive thing this stupid illness has done that's good, I also slam into a wall of the following logic:
"Don't feel good about this. It isn't healthy. Feel good about healthy things. Don't feel good about being too sick to move, waking up in a cold sweat for four days just because at the end of the rainbow there's a pair of loose jeans. This isn't sustainable any more than having a trainer and working out seven hours a week was sustainable. This isn't real weight loss, it's not going to put your body in better condition, and you better be able to keep something down today because quite frankly writing while lightheaded is not fun at all."
Sigh.
I've been working hard to lose weight for a long time. Primarily for health reasons, and I can say that honestly because the one thing that motivated me to *actually lose weight* was a health reason. So I shouldn't feel guilty if I have a little twinge of glee, no matter what the cause, when I get a little closer to knowing what that "healthy weight" is going to feel like when I get there.
But I do. Do I ever.
Not only because I know I didn't lose those eight pounds under anything that could possibly be interpreted as healthy circumstances, but also because those loose jeans tapped into just how ingrained and destructive my own weight (and weight-loss) expectations are.
Falling short of your own standards is never fun. Especially not when you're sick.
March 30, 2012
The Writing on the (Whiteboard) Wall
I've spent the day home sick in bed, so pardon me if this gets a bit introspective. Sometimes, one must engage in a little bit of navel-gazing.
For as long as I can remember being a writer, I've had more than one project going on at once.
When asked to explain this practice, I usually say something to the effect of its being better to have multiple plates spinning than only one or two; after all, not every project works out. Not every idea makes it to a completed state, either – as time passes, notes get lost, papers get scattered, and priorities change.
Right now I have a dry-erase-board painted wall full of ideas. That's right: an entire wall painted white with dry-erase paint, which I can scribble upon at my leisure.
In one corner, there's a scattered list of individuals who might be able to connect me and Matt McVarish with playwrights in various countries around the world for at Glasgay 2012 later this year. (There's an announcement coming on this, so hold tight and you won't be disappointed).
Beside that is a list of ideas for short stories about alternative intelligence: mostly titles, these ideas will build on some of the ideas I've been working with in The Tell Tale Tech, Sweetheart and Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom., as well as other themes, as I try to work my way through the issues behind a larger dramatic work on a similar subject. If publishing Hot Mess doesn't kill me, this collection will probably be my next e-publishing project.
Next down is a list of the tasks that still need to be undertaken for Hot Mess. Most of these revolve around the print edition, which will soon be available via CreateSpace, or about getting the word out via various blogs and other sources. The first sentence of a blog rewrite I owe The Masquerade Crew (about self-publishing, actually) is sketched out, though there' still plenty of work to be done on it. And then an idea so bad I'm going to go erase it before I even continue this blog entry.
One moment, please.
Alright. Now that's taken care of, on with the catalogue: a sentence that popped into my mind the other night, and my subsequent editing of it, looks like a grammarian's diagramming of parts of speech from a few feet away. More concrete responsibilities are listed next: errands in need of being run, lines of dialogue that have popped into my head here and there. People I need to email, and another shortlist (way at the bottom) of projects looking for a place in the schedule.
What do we find here? An idea for a co-written horror film, two different road trip movies (one a comedy, one a drama), a sketch show a friend and I talk about producing when we have the time…in other words, enough to keep me busy even if everything I had going on had made it onto the wall.
And me? I'm sick in bed.
I hate being sick.
March 25, 2012
In Which I Am A Cold-Blooded Killer
If you've read my story "Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom." in Hot Mess: speculative fiction about climate change, you may have an inkling of my feelings toward cockroaches (warning: graphic link).
Those feelings are only intensified when, while working on a web series I'm putting out later this year, I see something moving out of the corner of my eye – and it turns out to be a cockroach the size of my thumb scuttling its way up the wall.
Two inches from my head.
(Warning: this story gets graphic from here on out, so if you're squeamish and want something to read, just go buy the book because its cockroach content is far less disturbing.)
Where we we? Yes. Writing meeting via skype in session, cockroach by my head.
I screamed. I jumped up. I dashed into the other room and grabbed my roach spray (any New Yorker's best friend, and if they tell you otherwise they're lying to make the city sound glamorous) and came back and squirted pathetic jets of toxic chemicals at the roach on my jacket. And what'd the little bugger do? IT FELL OFF INTO MY DRESSER DRAWER. I saw its little arms flailing as it fell, I watched it burrow down in between my socks, and I realized that I had no way of knowing whether the poison had actually killed it. Because I don't know if you've been in a position to kill a cockroach recently, and I sincerely hope you haven't been, but sometimes the little buggers don't die.
Seriously. I've sprayed a continuous stream on a cockroach for something like forty seconds and watched it scrabble back and forth unaffected the whole time. Those nerve agents don't act right away, you know. And even after they stop moving, their little legs keep twitching and sometimes when you try to scoop them up in a dustpan they'll give another couple of twitches, and seriously, these are the last things on the planet that are going to have to worry about nuclear radiation, and sometimes I think also they are Zombies.
So now I had a drawer full of clothes and a maybe-not-dead-yet cockroach. This is when I started shaking. Those horrible delayed-adrenaline shakes. I pecked out a quick missive: "omg roach" to my co-writer to explain my sudden silence, and kept my eyes trained on the spot where roachie had burrowed down into my socks to make sure he didn't try to come out again. All the while holding my roach spray as if it were an AK-47. Only tighter.
From there, the chronology gets foggy, in that way only post-adrenaline surge actions really can. I did a lot of yelling on twitter, I remember, and eventually it was determined that the drawer had to be emptied out as quickly as possible. This was upsetting, because by this point I'd realized that the only thing that was going to be more distressing than the moment when I found that roach (please let it not be moving) was going to be the moment when I finished emptying out the drawer and picking through my clothes only to not find a roach.
Into the bathroom goes the story.
I cleared a path on the floor of my apartment, which is roughly the size of a shoebox, and gave the dresser drawer a sharp kick or two just to make sure there wasn't anything in there that was going to leap out at me. Then I gingerly pulled the drawer off its runners and put it on the floor. And nudged it with my feet a few more times. I shuffled it across the floor of the apartment, had another moment of vapors as I got closer to the step up to the bathroom (though come to think of it, it could have been my enclosed-space proximity to Raid), and dumped the drawer out into the tub.
Not sure what I expected – something to scurry up out of the fabric and make its presence known, perhaps – but nothing happened. A broom handle helped me pick up and shake out each sock, leggings, tights – and finally I got to a winter hat. I do remember thinking, I really wish I had one of those robotic arm grabber things. That is exactly what this situation calls for.
Instead, I poked the end of the broom into a hat and picked it up, shook it around a little –
– and let out another high-pitched shriek as my little buddy dropped, arms flailing, back into the tub.
Another scramble for roach spray ensued, only this time I grabbed the spray with the automatic re-shooting trigger function. I'm not even kidding. I had an automatic weapon on my side against this thing.
In hindsight, I don't even know what to do with the image: a hysterical human being pumping automatically-propelled jets of poison at a scuttling bug-creature till the little thing finally stopped twitching. There's something about that that makes me very uncomfortable. But we'll put those feelings aside, for now. Because of what I learned next.
Returning to Twitter to share the tale of my victory, I was informed thusly: apparently that one was just a scout, a distraction. The real invasion was still coming. It was going to be an ambush, a massacre. And I had taken the bait.
I kept the Raid by my bedside last night. And I slept with the lights on.
March 20, 2012
Huge Writing Announcement: “Hot Mess: speculative fiction about climate change” – Kindle, Smashwords & Nook
Welcome to my 100th post for rlbrody.com.
I didn’t realize I’d have something significant to say when I hit this blogging milestone. Imagine how excited I was when I realized. (Actually, if you follow me on twitter, you probably don’t have to do much imagining.)
So here it is. Huge Writing Announcement.
A few months ago, I posted about an anthology I was putting together: short stories about global warming and climate change, and their effects on humankind.
Today that anthology – Hot Mess: speculative fiction about climate change – went live on Amazon.com.
Over the next 36 hours or so, it will populate to Amazon’s international sites. Over the next couple of weeks, Nook, Smashwords and CreateSpace (a print service – that’s right, actual books) will join the Kindle version of Hot Mess for sale.
But today, it’s just there for Kindle. If you’re a Kindle owner, or if you’ve downloaded one of their ten billion Kindle apps for your smartphone, iPhone, iPad, or desktop, you can click on this link right here and you will be able to download your very own copy of Hot Mess. And you should. Because not only is it a piece of work I’m over-the-moon proud of, but it’s work with a grassroots-level charity angle: each author has agreed to donate a portion of whatever earnings they have from Hot Mess to a charity or awareness-raising organization close to their heart, involved in dealing with climate change.
So go buy Hot Mess. What will you be getting?
The anthology starts with She Says Goodbye Tomorrow by Eric Sipple, a story about wine and family and loss and memory. From there, my super-short Haute Mess takes a whimsical, fashion-based look at how visual and physical climates interact. Miranda Doerfler gives us In Between the Dark and the Light, an action-filled tale about a father and his daughter, followed by Sare Liz Gordy‘s Traditionibus ne Copulate, which (I think, and I know she’ll correct me if I’m wrong) translates to “Don’t fuck with tradition.” Next, my piece Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. is a domestic coming-of-age tale about a boy, his mother, an industrial accident and the house computer. Finally, RJ Astruc brings the anthology’s central questions back to the forefront with her fictional travelogue, The World Gets Smaller, and Things Get Left Behind.
Hot Mess features hand-drawn illustrations by musician/ecologist Hannah Werdmuller as well as a fashionably modern – and eye-catching – cover design from Sarah Hartley. Mere Smith’s assistance with proofreading and Jason Derrick’s with formatting were (and continue to be) very much appreciated. This book wouldn’t be out today without your work. Thank you, so much, to each of you.
A little over seven months ago, I approached four writers and asked them if they were interested in writing a short story anthology about climate change. They were. The project started. Now it’s over.
Except it’s not. There’s still loads to do: more uploading, more formats, more reviews, more readers, more awareness. I will talk about all of that more later – in another blog entry. Earth Day is next month; I’ll definitely talk about it before then. I hope you will, too.
For now, please read Hot Mess.
Then start talking, posting, retweeting, and facebooking about it.
UPDATE (3/21): You may have noticed that some of the above links are now directing you to Smashwords! You can now buy the book directly there; in a few weeks it will have populated out to sites like Kobo, the iTunes store and more.
If you’re reading on Kindle, I would still recommend you purchase the Amazon version, as that has been optimized for your platform. Nook users, Smashwords does a lovely job of converting to a Nook-friendly format.
UPDATE 2: This morning, I got to send my dad a text: “Your daughter is currently outselling Isaac Asimov in her category.” (We’d just pulled ahead of “I, Robot”). The book rose to just over 9K in the Amazon store rankings. Within our own category (sci-fi anthologies), “Hot Mess” shot to #20 on the top #100 list, climbed up another few spots before topping out at #15, and lingered there overnight. (EDIT: Hannah has just let me know she saw it at #14 at 2am! Not sure if that’s EST or PST, but either way!) Not bad for Upload Day, right?
Huge Writing Announcement: "Hot Mess: speculative fiction about climate change" – Kindle, Smashwords & Nook
Welcome to my 100th post for rlbrody.com.
I didn't realize I'd have something significant to say when I hit this blogging milestone. Imagine how excited I was when I realized. (Actually, if you follow me on twitter, you probably don't have to do much imagining.)
So here it is. Huge Writing Announcement.
A few months ago, I posted about an anthology I was putting together: short stories about global warming and climate change, and their effects on humankind.
Today that anthology – Hot Mess: speculative fiction about climate change – went live on Amazon.com.
Over the next 36 hours or so, it will populate to Amazon's international sites. Over the next couple of weeks, Nook, Smashwords and CreateSpace (a print service – that's right, actual books) will join the Kindle version of Hot Mess for sale.
But today, it's just there for Kindle. If you're a Kindle owner, or if you've downloaded one of their ten billion Kindle apps for your smartphone, iPhone, iPad, or desktop, you can click on this link right here and you will be able to download your very own copy of Hot Mess. And you should. Because not only is it a piece of work I'm over-the-moon proud of, but it's work with a grassroots-level charity angle: each author has agreed to donate a portion of whatever earnings they have from Hot Mess to a charity or awareness-raising organization close to their heart, involved in dealing with climate change.
So go buy Hot Mess. What will you be getting?
The anthology starts with She Says Goodbye Tomorrow by Eric Sipple, a story about wine and family and loss and memory. From there, my super-short Haute Mess takes a whimsical, fashion-based look at how visual and physical climates interact. Miranda Doerfler gives us In Between the Dark and the Light, an action-filled tale about a father and his daughter, followed by Sare Liz Gordy's Traditionibus ne Copulate, which (I think, and I know she'll correct me if I'm wrong) translates to "Don't fuck with tradition." Next, my piece Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. is a domestic coming-of-age tale about a boy, his mother, an industrial accident and the house computer. Finally, RJ Astruc brings the anthology's central questions back to the forefront with her fictional travelogue, The World Gets Smaller, and Things Get Left Behind.
Hot Mess features hand-drawn illustrations by musician/ecologist Hannah Werdmuller as well as a fashionably modern – and eye-catching – cover design from Sarah Hartley. Mere Smith's assistance with proofreading and Jason Derrick's with formatting were (and continue to be) very much appreciated. This book wouldn't be out today without your work. Thank you, so much, to each of you.
A little over seven months ago, I approached four writers and asked them if they were interested in writing a short story anthology about climate change. They were. The project started. Now it's over.
Except it's not. There's still loads to do: more uploading, more formats, more reviews, more readers, more awareness. I will talk about all of that more later – in another blog entry. Earth Day is next month; I'll definitely talk about it before then. I hope you will, too.
For now, please read Hot Mess.
Then start talking, posting, retweeting, and facebooking about it.
UPDATE (3/21): You may have noticed that some of the above links are now directing you to Smashwords! You can now buy the book directly there; in a few weeks it will have populated out to sites like Kobo, the iTunes store and more.
If you're reading on Kindle, I would still recommend you purchase the Amazon version, as that has been optimized for your platform. Nook users, Smashwords does a lovely job of converting to a Nook-friendly format.
UPDATE 2: This morning, I got to send my dad a text: "Your daughter is currently outselling Isaac Asimov in her category." (We'd just pulled ahead of "I, Robot"). The book rose to just over 9K in the Amazon store rankings. Within our own category (sci-fi anthologies), "Hot Mess" shot to #20 on the top #100 list, climbed up another few spots before topping out at #15, and lingered there overnight. (EDIT: Hannah has just let me know she saw it at #14 at 2am! Not sure if that's EST or PST, but either way!) Not bad for Upload Day, right?
Huge Writing Announcement: "Hot Mess: speculative fiction about climate change" now available on Amazon & Smashwords
Welcome to my 100th post for rlbrody.com.
I didn't realize I'd have something significant to say when I hit this blogging milestone. Imagine how excited I was when I realized. (Actually, if you follow me on twitter, you probably don't have to do much imagining.)
So here it is. Huge Writing Announcement.
A few months ago, I posted about an anthology I was putting together: short stories about global warming and climate change, and their effects on humankind.
Today that anthology – Hot Mess: speculative fiction about climate change – went live on Amazon.com.
Over the next 36 hours or so, it will populate to Amazon's international sites. Over the next couple of weeks, Nook, Smashwords and CreateSpace (a print service – that's right, actual books) will join the Kindle version of Hot Mess for sale.
But today, it's just there for Kindle. If you're a Kindle owner, or if you've downloaded one of their ten billion Kindle apps for your smartphone, iPhone, iPad, or desktop, you can click on this link right here and you will be able to download your very own copy of Hot Mess. And you should. Because not only is it a piece of work I'm over-the-moon proud of, but it's work with a grassroots-level charity angle: each author has agreed to donate a portion of whatever earnings they have from Hot Mess to a charity or awareness-raising organization close to their heart, involved in dealing with climate change.
So go buy Hot Mess. What will you be getting?
The anthology starts with She Says Goodbye Tomorrow by Eric Sipple, a story about wine and family and loss and memory. From there, my super-short Haute Mess takes a whimsical, fashion-based look at how visual and physical climates interact. Miranda Doerfler gives us In Between the Dark and the Light, an action-filled tale about a father and his daughter, followed by Sare Liz Gordy's Traditionibus ne Copulate, which (I think, and I know she'll correct me if I'm wrong) translates to "Don't fuck with tradition." Next, my piece Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. is a domestic coming-of-age tale about a boy, his mother, an industrial accident and the house computer. Finally, RJ Astruc brings the anthology's central questions back to the forefront with her fictional travelogue, The World Gets Smaller, and Things Get Left Behind.
Hot Mess features hand-drawn illustrations by musician/ecologist Hannah Werdmuller as well as a fashionably modern – and eye-catching – cover design from Sarah Hartley. Mere Smith's assistance with proofreading and Jason Derrick's with formatting were (and continue to be) very much appreciated. This book wouldn't be out today without your work. Thank you, so much, to each of you.
A little over seven months ago, I approached four writers and asked them if they were interested in writing a short story anthology about climate change. They were. The project started. Now it's over.
Except it's not. There's still loads to do: more uploading, more formats, more reviews, more readers, more awareness. I will talk about all of that more later – in another blog entry. Earth Day is next month; I'll definitely talk about it before then. I hope you will, too.
For now, please read Hot Mess.
Then start talking, posting, retweeting, and facebooking about it.
UPDATE (3/21): You may have noticed that some of the above links are now directing you to Smashwords! You can now buy the book directly there; in a few weeks it will have populated out to sites like Kobo, the iTunes store and more.
If you're reading on Kindle, I would still recommend you purchase the Amazon version, as that has been optimized for your platform. Nook users, Smashwords does a lovely job of converting to a Nook-friendly format.
UPDATE 2: This morning, I got to send my dad a text: "Your daughter is currently outselling Isaac Asimov in her category." (We'd just pulled ahead of "I, Robot"). The book rose to just over 9K in the Amazon store rankings. Within our own category (sci-fi anthologies), "Hot Mess" shot to #20 on the top #100 list, climbed up another few spots before topping out at #15, and lingered there overnight. (EDIT: Hannah has just let me know she saw it at #14 at 2am! Not sure if that's EST or PST, but either way!) Not bad for Upload Day, right?
Huge Writing Announcement: "Hot Mess: speculative fiction about climate change" now available on Amazon
Welcome to my100th post for rlbrody.com.
I didn't realize I'd have something significant to say when I hit this blogging milestone. Imagine how excited I was when I realized. (Actually, if you follow me on twitter, you probably don't have to do much imagining.)
So here it is. Huge Writing Announcement.
A few months ago, I posted about an anthology I was putting together: short stories about global warming and climate change, and their effects on humankind.
Today that anthology – Hot Mess: speculative fiction about climate change – went live on Amazon.com.
Over the next 36 hours or so, it will populate to Amazon's international sites. Over the next couple of weeks, Nook, Smashwords and CreateSpace (a print service – that's right, actual books) will join the Kindle version of Hot Mess for sale.
But today, it's just there for Kindle. If you're a Kindle owner, or if you've downloaded one of their ten billion Kindle apps for your smartphone, iPhone, iPad, or desktop, you can click on this link right here and you will be able to download your very own copy of Hot Mess. And you should. Because not only is it a piece of work I'm over-the-moon proud of, but it's work with a grassroots-level charity angle: each author has agreed to donate a portion of whatever earnings they have from Hot Mess to a charity or awareness-raising organization close to their heart, involved in dealing with climate change.
So go buy Hot Mess. What will you be getting?
The anthology starts with She Says Goodbye Tomorrow by Eric Sipple, a story about wine and family and loss and memory. From there, my super-short Haute Mess takes a whimsical, fashion-based look at how visual and physical climates interact. Miranda Doerfler gives us In Between the Dark and the Light, an action-filled tale about a father and his daughter, followed by Sare Liz Gordy's Traditionibus ne Copulate, which (I think, and I know she'll correct me if I'm wrong) translates to "Don't fuck with tradition." Next, my piece Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. is a domestic coming-of-age tale about a boy, his mother, an industrial accident and the house computer. Finally, RJ Astruc brings the anthology's central questions back to the forefront with her fictional travelogue, The World Gets Smaller, and Things Get Left Behind.
Hot Mess features hand-drawn illustrations by Hannah Werdmuller as well as a fashionably modern – and eye-catching – cover design from Sarah Hartley. Mere Smith's assistance with proofreading and Jason Derrick's with formatting were (and continue to be) very much appreciated. This book wouldn't be out today without your work. Thank you, so much, to each of you.
A little over seven months ago, I approached four writers and asked them if they were interested in writing a short story anthology about climate change. They were. The project started. Now it's over.
Except it's not. There's still loads to do: more uploading, more formats, more reviews, more readers, more awareness. I will talk about all of that more later – in another blog entry. Earth Day is next month; I'll definitely talk about it before then. I hope you will, too.
For now, please read Hot Mess.
Then start talking, posting, retweeting, and facebooking about it.
