C.M. Brown's Blog, page 11

LETTER "N" - A-Z CHALLENGE

A to Z Team [2014]Arlee Bird: Tossing it Out
Alex J. Cavanaugh: Alex J. Cavanaugh
Stephen Tremp: Author Stephen Tremp
Tina Downey: Life is Good
Damyanti Biswas: Amlokiblogs
Jeremy Hawkins: [Being Retro]
Nicole Ayers: The Madlab Post
M. J. Joachim: M. J. Joachim's Writing Tips
Heather M. Gardner: The Waiting is the Hardest Part
AJ Lauer: Naturally Sweet
Pam Margolis: An Unconventional Librarian



"N" already, where has April gone? One day left until Easter weekend.

Here is another excerpt / teaser from a sci-fi, dystopian novel I am working on, titled "Forces of Mist." I hope you like it.

“None of your god damned business.” She huffed and stormed off in the direction of her targeted area.
Carefully investigating the base, both Sarah and Roberts cautiously made their way through the complex with weapons drawn. What surprised Sarah, was the evidence left behind. The alien forces had not confiscated vital equipment and there was no sign of any conflict inside the base. It looked like the humanity living in the area had simply packed what they could in a desperate effort to escape and the debris left behind had been created in their haste to leave.
She found no evidence that the alien force had been inside the complex. This made her feel uncomfortable because this meant it was more than likely they would be back to search it and she did not want to be anywhere near here when they did.
They needed to hurry, find this weapon and get the hell out.
Looking quickly at the map to ensure she was heading in the right direction, she happened to notice movement from the corner of her eye.

NEW RELEASE - DESTRUCTION BY SHARON BAYLISS

Introducing a new dark wizard family drama, Destruction by Sharon Bayliss, Book One in The December People Series. BUY NOW
THE BOOK SPOTAn independent family-owned bookstore. The ONLY place to buy signed copies!
BOOK PEOPLEA locally owned book store in Austin, Texas.
AMAZON
BARNES AND NOBLE
David Vandergraff wants to be a good man. He goes to church every Sunday, keeps his lawn trim and green, and loves his wife and kids more than anything. Unfortunately, being a dark wizard isn't a choice.
Eleven years ago, David's secret second family went missing. When his two lost children are finally found, he learns they suffered years of unthinkable abuse. Ready to make things right, David brings the kids home even though it could mean losing the wife he can’t imagine living without. 
Keeping his life together becomes harder when the new children claim to be dark wizards. David believes they use this fantasy to cope with their trauma. Until, David's wife admits a secret of her own—she is a dark wizard too, as is David, and all of their children.  

Now, David must parent two hurting children from a dark world he doesn’t understand and keep his family from falling apart. All while dealing with the realization that everyone he loves, including himself, may be evil.







The Author

Sharon Bayliss is the author of The December People Series and The Charge . When she’s not writing, she enjoys living happily-ever-after with her husband and two young sons. She can be found eating Tex-Mex on patios, wearing flip-flops, and playing in the mud (which she calls gardening). She only practices magic in emergencies.

www.sharonbayliss.com - @SharonBayliss - https://www.facebook.com/authorsharonbayliss

TEASER TUESDAY

Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme, hosted by
http://shouldbereading.wordpress.com/of Should Be Reading.Anyone can play along!Just do the followingGrab your current readOpen to a random pageShare two (2) "teaser" sentences from somewhere on that pageBE CAREFUL NOT TO INCLUDE ANY SPOILERS!
Make sure that what you share doesn't give too much away!


You don't want to ruin the book for others! 


Libera Me (Requiem #2) byChristine Fonseca The line between good and evil has never been so blurred.Aydan wants to believe Nesy has returned to him in Vanessa. But her lack of memories and incessant nightmares begin to erode his faith. Zane is used to trusting his mind, his wisdom and his angelic senses. But these attributes are no help with Vanessa. He has no way to be certain of her true identity. That is, unless he listens to the one thing he has refused to acknowledge throughout his existence - his feelings for Nesy.

Blind to both angel and demon, Aydan and Zane must now figure out the truth behind Nesy's identity before all is lost, Azza discovers the truth and the Beast is again unleashed. 

MY TEASER: 
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LETTER "M" - A-Z CHALLENGE

A to Z Team [2014]Arlee Bird: Tossing it Out
Alex J. Cavanaugh: Alex J. Cavanaugh
Stephen Tremp: Author Stephen Tremp
Tina Downey: Life is Good
Damyanti Biswas: Amlokiblogs
Jeremy Hawkins: [Being Retro]
Nicole Ayers: The Madlab Post
M. J. Joachim: M. J. Joachim's Writing Tips
Heather M. Gardner: The Waiting is the Hardest Part
AJ Lauer: Naturally Sweet
Pam Margolis: An Unconventional Librarian



 "M" is the letter for today and once again I have another teaser from "Forces of Mist," a dystopian, sci-fi still in the making. I hope you are enjoying the short excerpts, which as you know are being posted in a random order from the novel.

Many confusing thoughts and feelings about Jackson revolved through her mind, some revealing she could trust this Mist Warrior, others showed his malicious side and her imagination showed no mercy, revealing what he could do to her.

Tortured by this continual bombardment, Sarah thought she might go mad. Hours passed and her stomach ached with lack of food and she desperately needed to use a bathroom. Her body was cramping up and her legs were aching from the lack of movement.

Finally, she drifted into an uncomfortable sleep and soon after awoke to the sound of the crunching of metal which she presumed was the roller door opening.

The container she was hiding in began to shake, someone was pushing it along. Sarah could hear the muffled grunts of the people dragging it and she curled in on herself, wrapping a sheet around her body, hoping to avoid detection.

The lid of the container never opened, the whole unit was pushed up a ramp and secured into a truck. What, did the aliens actually send out their laundry to be cleaned? Did they have a laundry service somewhere her on the surface?

Many scenarios of how she would attempt her escape ran through her mind, until finally she got the nerve to lift the lid of her refuge. Looking cautiously around, Sarah was relieved to find no one in the back of the vehicle with her. It was filled with similar blue lidded containers, identical to the one she was hiding in.

LETTER "L" - A-Z CHALLENGE

A to Z Team [2014]Arlee Bird: Tossing it Out
Alex J. Cavanaugh: Alex J. Cavanaugh
Stephen Tremp: Author Stephen Tremp
Tina Downey: Life is Good
Damyanti Biswas: Amlokiblogs
Jeremy Hawkins: [Being Retro]
Nicole Ayers: The Madlab Post
M. J. Joachim: M. J. Joachim's Writing Tips
Heather M. Gardner: The Waiting is the Hardest Part
AJ Lauer: Naturally Sweet
Pam Margolis: An Unconventional Librarian

Leaning closer to Jackson, she lent her head upon his shoulder. Sarah needed to feel Jackson's mist surround her. She felt comforted by the tendrils, wrapping themselves around her body, sending tingles along her skin. When she lifted her head from his shoulder to look into his brilliant eyes, Jackson bent to caress her lips along the side of her neck, moving upwards in soft kisses, until he reached her lips. His arms lifted her across the expanse of the car interior with little effort and he hugged her body into his lap.

The kisses between them were lit with a passion Sarah had never felt before, and she knew she would be thinking of this moment with Jackson for a long time to come.

Eventually, Jackson broke away and gently caressed his fingers across her cheek, whispering in a fevered voice, “You had best go now, my love.” Kissing her once more, he opened his door and dropped her gently to the ground.

“Go, my love. Be safe. W e will meet again.”

Sarah was awestruck and for a few moments stood where he had placed her, unmoving.

Jackson started the vehicle and slowly turned it away from where she was standing to head back into Sydney.

Sarah stood in the darkness watching the headlights of Jackson’s vehicle move away. Feelings of sadness, longing and passion were jumbled together and she shook her body to regain some control before moving towards the hidden panel to enter the code to unlatch the door.

LETTER "K" - A-Z CHALLENGE

A to Z Team [2014]Arlee Bird: Tossing it Out
Alex J. Cavanaugh: Alex J. Cavanaugh
Stephen Tremp: Author Stephen Tremp
Tina Downey: Life is Good
Damyanti Biswas: Amlokiblogs
Jeremy Hawkins: [Being Retro]
Nicole Ayers: The Madlab Post
M. J. Joachim: M. J. Joachim's Writing Tips
Heather M. Gardner: The Waiting is the Hardest Part
AJ Lauer: Naturally Sweet
Pam Margolis: An Unconventional Librarian





"K" is the letter for today. My post continues with another teaser from the "Forces of Mist," a work in progress suited to a New Adult audience.

Kara moved over to Sarah as she went through the necessary protocols, shutting down her vehicle and gathering up her equipment, “Where the hell have you been? The commander is going ape shit! You were supposed to report three hours ago!” she screamed, angrily.

“Well, hi there Kara! Thanks for being so concerned for my butt.”

Kara smiled at her friend's comment and gave her an affectionate punch in the shoulder. “I think it is best if I report directly to the commander about my experience, and reasons, so I will have to leave you hanging. Hey, but it’s all good, I think.”

With this comment hanging heavily in the air between them, Sarah walked away. She headed to her quarters, to gather a change of clothes. She wanted to use the community showers before making her report. She needed some time to work out exactly what she wanted to divulge and whether or not to share her experience with the commander. She knew Kara would understand why she walked away.

When she emerged from the shower Commander Walker was waiting in the hall. “Sarah, you have not officially checked in, why?”

“Can we go somewhere to talk?”

He nodded and led her into his ready room, away from any interruptions and anyone who could ears drop on their conversation.

Once inside her gestured for her to take a seat on one of his leather lounges and went to pour them both a drink from his mini bar.

Commander James Walker had been like a father to Sarah since both her parents had died on a mission, a few years back, when the war was at its peak. She had been living in this base at the time and had been in her early teens. The commander had taken her under his wing and now at nineteen years of age she had become one of his leading officers.

Her role was not a fighting one, but she was invaluable for collecting intelligence and a successful reconnaissance officer.

COVER REVEAL - SYDNEY AALIYAH MICHELLE, ANOTHER NEW LIFE

Title: Another New LifeAuthor: Sydney Aaliyah MichellePublication Date: June 2, 2014New Adult Contemporary Romance**This book contains adult subject matter. Not intended for young readers.**Cover Design by: © Arijana Karčić, Cover It! DesignsMiranda Preston is a walking contradiction. Beautiful on the outside, but, insecure, haunted and damaged on the inside. Despite these contradictions, she’s ready to start Another New Life.When her talent wins her a piano scholarship to the University of Texas at Austin, Miranda arrives on campus determined to experience everything college has to offer and to keep her secrets in the past where they belong.An easy task, until the first guy who catches her eye happens to be someone, she’s known all her life.Eight years have passed since the last time Miranda and Troy saw each other. He reminds her of the best and worst times of her life, but she can’t think about one without dwelling on the other. As they grow closer, every day their attraction reminds them they are no longer kids.The epic romantic love story that is Miranda and Troy seems to be destined for a happy ending, but Miranda knows it's only a matter of time before her secret is discovered. A secret that will not only destroy their relationship, it will destroy Troy, too.Can Miranda focus on her future with Troy while preventing her past from tearing them apart all over again? Giveawaya Rafflecopter giveawayAbout The AuthorWebsite   Facebook   TwitterPinterest   Goodreads Google+   LinkedIn   Sydney Aaliyah Michelle is a New Adult Contemporary Romance writer, a voracious reader and movie fanatic who Sydney has been blogging at sydneyaaliyah.com for three years, where she interviews people about their tattoos, discusses her favorite movie quotes, reviews books (New Adult & only the ones she loves) and journals about her writing and editing process.hailsfrom Texas. After surviving 5 1/2 years living in China, she had the courage to finally pursue her passion and become a writer.Sydney’s self-published debut New Adult Novel Another New Life will be available June 2014. An active tweeter, she is also a JuNoWriMo (2x) and NaNoWriMo (2x) winners who notes the sci-fi action flick “The Matrix” as the best representation of her life in the past. She is blessed to be awake now and doing what she loves.

LETTER "J" - A-Z CHALLENGE

A to Z Team [2014]Arlee Bird: Tossing it Out
Alex J. Cavanaugh: Alex J. Cavanaugh
Stephen Tremp: Author Stephen Tremp
Tina Downey: Life is Good
Damyanti Biswas: Amlokiblogs
Jeremy Hawkins: [Being Retro]
Nicole Ayers: The Madlab Post
M. J. Joachim: M. J. Joachim's Writing Tips
Heather M. Gardner: The Waiting is the Hardest Part
AJ Lauer: Naturally Sweet
Pam Margolis: An Unconventional Librarian



"J" is today's letter, almost halfway through the challenge!
Two characters from "Forces of Mist" have names starting with the letter "J" - Jackson (The Mist Warrior) and Jennings (a resistance fighter), so this letter was an easy task to complete.

Oh, and I need to express a language warning in this excerpt! Please don't be offended, it is used with the intent of showing the personality of the character using the offending language.

Jennings was more cautious, hesitantly making his way towards her, not taking his eyes from Jackson, who still stood at the entrance of the cave.


Sarah gestured for Jackson to join them and he showed one of his abilities, by transporting instantly to her side.


“Jackson, this is Jennings and Roberts, we have been sent to find what your troops are organising up this way and why the sudden movement.”


“What the fuck are you doing?” Roberts yelled at Sarah and pushed her abruptly in the shoulder, in an aggressive, tactless manner, forcing her to stumble a few steps backwards.


Jackson immediately intervened, engulfing Roberts within his tentacles of mist, slamming him into the cave wall.


Jennings ran over to his companion, checking if he was seriously hurt, then looked at Sarah, “Care to explain?”


Sarah took a deep breath, “Jackson here,” she gestured towards him, “is on our side. He works under cover and relays messages to the commander. He has been a vital link in our survival so far.” She smiled at Jackson and took his hand in hers, before continuing.


“That’s bullshit! I bet you are in cahoots with this arsehole and this is some cock and bull story to keep us off your arse!” Roberts closed in on Sarah again and stood face to face with her, towering over her in an intimidating stance, not caring about the threat of Jackson, hovering nearby.


She stood her ground, not giving into his anger and ignoring his outburst, “Jennings, please remove Roberts from my personnel space and ensure he calms down. Try to instil some reason into him. We are still a team on a mission and if you are unable to convince him of this, let me know.” She glared at Roberts as Jennings pulled him away, taking him to the other side of the cave to try and talk some sense into the man.

NEW RELEASE - TOO MUCH DARK MATTER, TOO LITTLE GRAY, BY MIKE ROBINSON

Today, I have invited Mike Robinson to my site to welcome his new release, "Too Much Dark Matter, Too Little Gray."
  
Mike Robinson writes dark horror stories, involving paranormal themes, which twist close to possible truths to the unanswered questions within our society. 

I have been hooked by the way he writes and the subject matter he delves into, finding each time I pick up his work to read, that it is very hard to put down. He seems to bring the reader into the story and you are left guessing the outcome until he unravels it at stories end.



Carolyn

MIKE ROBINSON

 Between the Interstice
On Lovecraft and Weird Fiction




"Back then, with the visions, most of the time I was convinced I'd lost it. There were other times, though, where I thought I was mainlining the secret truth to the universe."
                                                                                    ------------ Rust Cohle, True Detective




Behind the wide facade of Speculative Fiction twist the hedge-mazes of fantasy, brood the catacombs of horror and gaze the far-seeing floors of science fiction. Among them, between them, are the closets and crawlspaces of the niche, one of which -- a relatively bigger one -- is the place of Weird Fiction, a dark storage of many souvenirs from fantasy, horror and science fiction, though dusted with its own special charms.

            The former subtitle for my new book, Too Much Dark Matter, Too Little Gray: A Collection of Weird Fiction was actually, A Collection of Speculative Fiction. As one prone to appreciate sprawling ambiguity, to resist specific categorization, it’s a little ironic that I wanted to specify further. But there was a reason for that, besides the stodginess of “speculative”, which has none of the zany, fluid charisma of “weird”.








            While using “weird” may sound like a proud judgment, a literary outcast chest-thumping his identity as such, it’s more a direct homage to the tradition of Ambrose Bierce, Robert Chambers, H.P. Lovecraft and many others. Going further, it’s an accurate classification given my vision of Weird Fiction, a subgenre that, perhaps more consciously than other fields of speculative fiction, stirs together elements of the metaphysical, cosmological and horrific to grimly honor the Big Questions, remind us of our insurmountable ignorance, to pin down our squirming selves into our rightful position in the child’s seat, to whisper, maybe in some alien, mud-packed voice, that, hey, the world slippery and you won’t ever, ever catch it. The world, in short, is weird.

            And past all the horror, the strangeness, that to me is a nourishing thought. Let me explain.

            The moment I cemented my decision to not pursue an M.F.A (or any academic training) in writing is vivid. While enrolled at Otis College of Art & Design, I found in my mailbox a little perfect-bound literary booklet featuring work by the graduate students in fiction. I flipped it open to a random story. After wading cautiously into the second paragraph of a painful scrutiny of eyebrow-plucking, I was done. Other entries weren’t much better. Too many of them seemed concerned with stereotypical, high-literary minutia, unfortunately the focus and baffling preference of innumerable professors, awards, journals, and workshops (cough-Iowa-cough).





Caption: My first sale, the story The Hand of Spudd in Storyteller Magazine


            Personally, I have little interest in quaint journalistic accounts of Malaysian transvestite violinists at the turn of the century (yes, I made that up), or the endless slew of aptly-termed “McFiction” featuring some cocky narrator coming of age amongst his or her overfed, dysfunctional family. No, I prefer going head-on at the Big Questions, going at them, as George Carlin might say, with no less than a sledgehammer. Give me ballsy confrontations with Life, Death, the Cosmos, with Existence, with God. 

            In their noble attempts at social redemption and inclusion, many contemporary teachers of literature treat writings in the framework of their political significance. To me, though, such attempts seem nothing more than new forms of division. It is looking at the grains and forgetting the shore. Does the world really need a Marxist reading of Huckleberry Finn, complete with ten-dollar jargon? Academics are on the lookout for the “next best thing”, the new trend in analysis, the new prism through which to see literary works of yesterday and today. I say: what about our shared heritage? Our shared -- and uncertain -- future? Not as any one ethnicity, gender, party, or faction, but as an entire civilization. A species. A collective piece of this vast Universe. 

            Of course, much of this material is studied, and much of it is exhaustively considered and written about. Enter Weird Fiction!
            As any fellow devotee will know, H.P. Lovecraft -- arguably the most esteemed and influential practitioner of the genre -- cleaned out the catacombs with his pen, defying tropes of ghosts and vampires and expanding imaginations with interconnected tales of ancient civilizations antedating our own, of towering alien-gods, of unseen dimensions and humanity’s sanity-shattering smallness in an inexplicable cosmos. All this made more impressive by the fact that he wrote in the 1920s, when so much of that stuff was barely on anyone’s speculative radar, including scientists’. His unknowns are truly Unknown, and will forever elude explanation. 

            Certainly Lovecraft’s work has failings, failings probably more surface-level than those of other lauded authors. He was well aware of his own wooden dialogue (hence, quotation marks are scarce in his pages) and his prose sometimes gushes into the purple. Nevertheless, his voice, with its richly archaic, darkly celebratory cadence, stands alone, and will survive as long as we’re unsure what lurks “out there”.







Caption: Me suited up, scoping “out there”


            Sadly, Lovecraft, and especially his “Cthulu” mythos, have become somewhat franchised, relegated to corners of the market generally aimed at Dungeons and Dragons fans, horror enthusiasts, and nihilistic young adults sporting black fingernails and lipstick. It is a wide “cult following”, but nonetheless a cult following. Although some scholars have acknowledged his importance, many see him as a troublesome bridge from Poe to Stephen King. It is this identity that has, I’m sure, dissuaded many from giving him a serious go. “Lovecraft? Oh, no, I don’t like that horror stuff.”

            But back up. Here we come back to the question of Weird Fiction itself, because I don’t necessarily consider the canon, or Lovecraft’s work, “horror”. Certainly there are horrific elements in his work, and his career does include several standard supernatural yarns. But in his treatment of cosmic mysteries, and the shadowed realms of prehistory, his is more a prying curious eye, forcing us to consider those Big Questions, to ponder notions of, and issues with, the likes of religion, biology, cosmology, archaeology, and psychology. He sets you on the outside looking in, a contrast to being in and looking further in to the point of navel-gazing. This exercise of outside-looking-in, one I believe most writers of fiction should undertake, helps in a kind of rounding out of thought. 

            No matter the genre in which one writes, I believe the best, most poignant stories have at least an undercurrent of  this “larger awareness”, a perception conveying authority and wisdom. So many stories feel constricted by their own world, characters or concerns. Yet to read Lovecraft is to confront directly that raw Unknown that surrounds us, that is us. To get a healthy dose of perspective: a shambling, roaring, behemoth upswell of perspective. 

            I mentioned earlier that I think such a perspective can be ultimately nourishing. In an era of economic, cultural and political tumult, when millions of Davids the world over shout in fiery voice against the few far-reaching, corrupt Goliaths, there is morbid comfort in knowing that, despite whatever the megalomaniacal egos of sadistic leaders, immoral bankers, or bribe-pocketing politicians might make of themselves, there are impenetrable forces beyond all of them that will cast mocking eyes towards their suited-up, gold-rimmed delusions, if they even care to acknowledge them. Lovecraft, and the general tradition of Weird Fiction, reminds us just how little power the powerful actually wield. After all, Goliath was, what, ten feet tall? When the mountain-sized Cthulu rises once more, those people will be nothing but scrambling ants -- along with the rest of us.