Konn Lavery's Blog: Posts from konnlavery.com, page 29

Go Indie Now Town Hall LIVE Graphic Designers

This is a question and answer format. So if you are watching this live please post your questions in the chat and we will ask them during the show. If you are watching this after the fact, please post your questions in the comment section and I will have our group double back and give you an answer.

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Scrappers Part II

Scrappers Angie and Ruggy have been sent by their operator
to a location deep within The Lost. This is no ordinary Scrapper mission. The
two came across a crashed starship. Is it one of the deadly Harvesters or
something else entirely?

Scrappers Part II continues August’s flash fiction that brings readers into a continuation of a sci-fi horror universe. Enjoy the story in written word, audio, artwork and soundscape.

Scrappers Part II









Dual Freaks

Flames crackled. Gravel moved around with each step. My
heart pounded. Sweat beaded up over my face. I kept my gaze forward, keeping a
close eye on my partner, Ruggy. He moved closer to the flickering orange heat.
The sun had set entirely. The night vision goggles we used tried to balance out
the contrast of light and dark but were of little use. One thing was clear, the
silhouette of a muscular arm reaching for the skies.

The small UI chat message window at the bottom corner of the
goggles lit up as Ruggy typed out a new message.

LET’S CIRCLE AROUND, WE’RE HEADING STRAIGHT FOR IT,
he typed.

My eyelids twitched, navigating the chat program’s keyboard,
typing.

GOT IT, I replied.

The two of us circled around as a haunting groan came from
the silhouette’s location. The arm moved down to the ground. The being was
trying to push itself up. It was wounded, how injured we didn’t know. Ruggy and
I had to be cautious. This thing was looking more and more like a Harvester the
closer we got.

As bold as Ruggy was for investigating the fire, I was not.
All I wanted to do was run. Get the hell out of here as quickly as we could.
The lack of site, the obscure stinging smell, and this massive being was enough
to send me heading for the cruiser. Ruggy needed me though. Scrappers stuck
together. There was no other option. Scrapper’s code always comes first.

Another sound screeched through the fire, this one was more
distant. Violent. The noise caused Ruggy and I to turn towards the origin,
trying to spot anything. Large torn scraps of metal pierced from the ground. The
remnants of some sort of spacecraft.

THERE’S TWO, Ruggy typed out.

THAT DIDN’T SOUND THE SAME, I replied.

NO SHIT. STAY ON GUARD.

Ruffling from the first being picked up. We turned to see it
attempting to stand upright, limping. A second screech erupted. The being
reached for an object on the ground, a large spear.

SEE? HARVESTER. Ruggy typed.

The spear was a clear indicator of a Harvester. All humans
knew it. They used those damned electrically charged spears to numb us.
Harvesters needed us in good shape, ideally. That didn’t mean they weren’t afraid
of brutal force.

WHAT’S THE PLAN? I asked.

The Harvester collapsed onto its spear, holding the rod tightly
for support. Okay, it was critically wounded.

KILL IT, Ruggy typed.

A howling shriek boomed before I could type anything. A new bulky
humanoid burst from the flames. Naked, claws, spikes, all colliding with the
Harvester. The two humanoids tumbled onto the ground towards us, skidding to a
stop. We leaped back as they came into view, rifles aimed.

Pareidolia

An entangled, burnt lump of bloody limbs wrestled to get on
top of one another. I froze, staring at the Harvester who landed with its back to
the ground. The helmet was half-complete. Hardened foam caked around the damaged
edges, revealing the face of the Harvester. It had blond patches of hair, most
of it had scorched off the scalp. It scowled, blue eyes looking at its
opponent. The Harvester’s large arms shook violently as it held onto the
primitive being’s wrists. The second humanoid, slightly shorter, drooled as
it’s sharp jaws remained open. Spikes pointed upright all along the back and
outer limbs. The clawed feet hooked into the thighs of the Harvester,
puncturing the flesh. Reddish-green blood poured out of the wounds.

SHOOT, Ruggy ordered.

I didn’t reply. I could only stare at the Harvester’s eyes
as it wrestled with the naked beast. Harvesters were taller than us – more
perfect you could say – stronger, and relentless. Yet, they were once us.

An ear-shattering clack erupted from Ruggy’s rifle. He fired
several times as the automatic weapon projected the bullets into the Harvester
and beast. The Harvester yelped in pain, a human cry. The beast howled like a
dog. It ripped its claws free from the Harvester and landed on all fours,
dashing away from the scene, blood drizzling on the ground behind it.

I lifted my rifle at it and pulled the trigger, firing at
the creature as it disappeared from the crash site, vanishing into The Lost.

Shit, I thought.

Ruggy shouted, “eat it gene freak!” as he continued to fire
at the Harvester. The bullets pinged off of the remaining armour. The exposed
skin was defenceless, letting the bullets pierce into the flesh. Blood splattered
all around. Its eyes squinted in agony as red and green liquid oozed out of its
mouth.

I turned my weapon to the Harvester and paused. No human had
been this close to a Harvester before. Especially in such a defenceless state.
A part of me wanted to try and help the Harvester. Reason with it. Show the
being that we weren’t that different after all. We could create a paradigm
shift between the two species. No. It’s been tried before. It was a foolish
idea.

No Traces

“He’s going to spray!” Ruggy shouted.

Rugg’y words shot me out of my internal dilemma. My eyes
widened as the Harvester managed to reach for his inner bicep, fingers pressing
a touch screen that lit up red.

“Go!” Ruggy said, snagging my arm.

A loud beep came from the Harvester’s torn-up suit as small
black holes opened all over the armour. Translucent liquid sprayed out of the
suit in all directions and over the Harvester. Sizzling sounds followed as the
liquid came into contact with the Harvester and the ground.

We barely made it out of the vicinity of the sprinkle,
coming to a halt. The liquid had wholly covered the Harvester. A chemical
reaction transformed it to foam, expanding in size. The Harvester clenched its
teeth in pain as the foam ate away at his armour and flesh. The foam’s colour shifted
into a slight green as the rest of the Harvester’s form was shrouded in the foam
substance.

“Damnit!” Ruggy said.

I looked over at him to see that some of the liquid had
gotten onto his shoulder. He tried to brush it off as it swelled up.

“I think it ate through my coat. I can feel it compressing,”
he said.

The foam had stopped expanding, turning a slight red – proof
that it had eaten some of his flesh. “It’s toughening,” I said, looking at it.

“Don’t get too close, kid,” Ruggy said stepping back. “Shit
it stings.”

“We gotta get back to the cruiser and take care of it.”

“It’s not that bad. It hardened. Doesn’t matter if we slice
it off now or later.” Ruggy said, his gaze locking onto the Harvester’s
consumed form.

The being was engulfed by the froth. Snapping sounds picked
up – crushing bones from the hardened fizz that began compress. Only a blob
remained, in a rough humanoid pose. The surrounding ground had speckles of the
foam in a light grey. All of the foam continued to compress inward, crushing
the rocks – and Harvester – underneath.

“Pricks,” Ruggy said while walking towards it. “They always
manage to pull off that stunt just when we got them.”

“I’ve never seen that before. I mean, I’ve seen videos of it
in training,” I replied while walking up to Ruggy.

“Not the same is it?”

“Not at all. We really can’t cut the foam open?”

“No point. The acid eats away the surface and the foam
crushes everything else. Plus, this shit is harder than diamond once it shrinks,”
Ruggy said, kicking the foam on the ground. “If we could ever get our hands on
even a fraction of their tech, it could change our situation.”

“Or understand their biology better,” I replied. “They look
so human.”

Ruggy sighed. “Don’t let their appearance fool you next
time. When I say fire, fire, understand?”

“Yeah, sorry. It just threw me off. I’ve never seen one
without their suit.”

“Most don’t, because they pull off that stupid self-destruct
system. Remember, just because they look like a perfect us, doesn’t mean they
are us. Their minds are fucked up with a superiority complex.”

“Right,” I said, turning to look at the fire and nearby torn
metal. “What do you think happened here?” I asked.

Ruggy shrugged. “The Harvester crashed. The question is,
what the hell was it doing with that other thing?”

“I don’t know. It ran away before I could do anything about
it,” I replied.

Ruggy walked from the caked Harvester towards the ships
remains. “It was fast. Now it’s wandering The Lost. That’s something we gotta
report.”

“We should go back,” I said.

“Not yet, let’s scope out the rest of this mess. The
operator sent us here. Let’s see what was going on.” Ruggy said while walking
towards the flame.

I followed Ruggy, taking one last look at the deceased
Harvester. The fizz had compressed to a solid-state, perfectly outlining the
shape of the giant humanoid, like some sort of dried-acid statue. Never before
had I been so close to a Harvester. Most people that did didn’t survive. They
were too fast, too strong, and too cunning. If that thing hadn’t been wounded
and attacked, we would have been dead. That was a guarantee. In an odd turn of
events that hostile beast was our saviour.

Review

Ruggy and I walked cautiously through the rubble of the
Harvester’s spacecraft remains. There were remnants of cables and hardware on
the ground, too burnt to try and sample. We continued on, deeper into the mess.
Most of the ship had been destroyed in the crash. Plus, Harvesters had a pretty
clean method of destroying their technology, like they do with themselves.
Anything of value regarding their ship was mostly disintegrated.

SOME GOOD METAL HERE, Ruggy typed out.

YEAH, I’LL GET THE ROVER, I replied while navigating
through the goggle’s interface. My eyelids made slight movements to get to the
rover’s retrieval command. The interface confirmed the rover’s signal. It’d be
here in no time to carry the scraps. It’s always wise for Scrappers not to keep
their rover around until we found something of value. Rovers are expensive and
the one good piece of tech we get. The last thing we need is a Harvester to
destroy it. Man do those rovers save our asses from having to haul heavy
scraps.

WE MIGHT NEED THE WHOLE CRUISER AT THIS POINT, Ruggy
typed out while walking around a large curved exterior of the craft. He
carefully avoided nearby flames and any sharp pieces of metal that stuck out of
the ground.

YEAH. LET’S JUST SEE WHAT ELSE IS HERE AND THEN WE CAN
CALL THIS IN, I replied.

We stopped several times, looking to see if there was
anything useful on the ground. Most of it was just scraps, the type of things
we’d usually gather. Regardless of the danger, we both knew that this was going
to be a good scrapping session. The operator would be pleased.

CHECK THIS OUT, Ruggy typed.

I hurried up to my partner to see a human-sized glass pod
was shattered on the ground. It was probably not glass, but some Harvester
equivalent. The broken pod was half melted away and a third missing. Tubes
could be seen at the base of the cylinder shape.

“Think that beast came out of here?” I asked.

“Maybe,” Ruggy said in a low tone. “Look,” he added.

Several smaller pods were beside the large one. These were a
little cracked but intact. Inside the pods were flesh-sacks floating in a
translucent substance. The sacks were a light pink colour, but
semi-transparent. Inside, small baby-like beings floated. Their eyes were
closed, sleeping peacefully, undisturbed by the chaos that had just occurred.

“What are these?” I asked, leaning down.

Ruggy extended his arm out, stopping me from tilting any
further. “Stay up,” he ordered.

One of the small creatures wiggled, moving its tiny,
undeveloped hands around in the sack. An ambilocal cord was attached to the
belly that reached the top of the sack.

“These are infants,” I said, standing upright.

“No, they’re not Angie,” Ruggy said, pointing his rifle at
the baby.

“Are you dense?” I asked. “I know what a damn baby looks
like.”

“Yeah but this was a Harvester’s craft,” Ruggy replied.

I shook my head. “Harvesters capture people. They take us to
mess with genetics. This is a damn baby!”

“They also grow their own people in incubators.”

“So even if it is a Harvester baby, it’s a life,” I argued.

“A Harvester life. Or maybe that beast we saw,” Ruggy
replied. “Either way, it isn’t one of us.”

“Ruggy, are you listening to yourself? You want to shoot
these infants?”

Ruggy let go of his rifle and threw a swift hand across my
face. The slap hit hard, probably turning my cheek pink. My eyes widened,
feeling my flesh hum from the aftermath.

“Angie! Wake up. These are not humans.” Ruggy shouted. “They’re
genetic freaks. They forced their DNA to evolve away from us. They look similar
to us, but so did the great apes, and look at how we treated them when they
were around.”

I swallowed a thick lump of saliva. Ruggy was trying to be a
good person, but I knew he was getting frustrated. That slap was ‘nice Ruggy.’ ‘Mean
Ruggy’ would have decked my ass and just do what he wanted. He was only trying to
educate me.

“I know it’s tough to grasp,” Ruggy said. “We’re living in a
fucked-up world where the lines of being human are blurred. This is why we
stick to the code. Us against them. Harvesters broke all morale centuries ago
when they edited their first DNA strand. Even if we saved these offspring and
try to raise it, they don’t grow like us, and they don’t think like us. They’ll
question themselves, and that is a can of worms we don’t need. Now raise your
damn rifle.” Ruggy lifted his weapon, pointing at one of the pods.

I stared down at the second pod, looking right into the
small being’s soft face. It wiggled around gently in the sack, stopping until
it was facing me. Its eyes flicked open. White. Nothing but a white ball inside
of the eye socket. Inhuman.

We fired at the pods, the bullets shattered through the
glass, ripping through the embryo sacks and shredding into the small beings.
The translucent liquid poured out of the broken glass, followed by streams of reddish-green
fluids.

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A Celebration of Madness – Daniel Martin and The Infamous IV

I’m pleased to say I will be at the Daniel Martin and The Infamous concert this November with the novels available for signing!

This will be their final concert in the “Taste of Madness” era, and they will be playing much of the music from the album as well as never-before-heard songs from our future full-length album.

Come be part of this unforgettable, monumental, all-ages evening.
Guest acts and details to be released later.

When and Where?

Saturday, November 16, 2019 at 6 PM – 11:30 PM

The Rec Room South Edmonton
1725 99 Street NW, Edmonton, Alberta T6N 1K5

More Information can be found on the Facebook Event.

The post A Celebration of Madness – Daniel Martin and The Infamous IV appeared first on Konn Lavery.

Halloween Book Signing

Head over to Strathcona Chapters for a Halloween signing!

I’ll be heading over to Chapters Strathcona (Whyte Ave) for a signing of my novels. Drop in for a meet & greet the author, artwork, and of course, the books themselves.

When and Where:

Saturday, October 12 from 11:00am – 4:00pm
Chapters Strathcona
10504 82nd Avenue,
Edmonton, AlbertaT6E 2A4

The post Halloween Book Signing appeared first on Konn Lavery.

Capital City Press Book Festival

This year I will be at the third annual Capital City Press Book Festival from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m.

Discover locally written and published booksGet your books signed by participating authorsAttend panels on a variety of topics featuring some of Alberta’s top writers

Attendance is free and everyone is welcome!

When and Where?

October 5th from 10am – 4pm

Address:

Clareview Recreation Centre
3804 139 Avenue Northwest, Edmonton AB

Full Information Can Be Found Here.

The post Capital City Press Book Festival appeared first on Konn Lavery.

Rutherford Manor Art Exhibition Grand Opening!

Rutherford Manor is proud to present an exhibition of the unique art and photography that bring to life our creepy characters and stories. Please come and join us for some visiting, cosplay, viewing, eating, drinking, and just some fun at this Grand Opening of our first Art Gallery Exhibition!

Meet these talented Artists and Photographers in Person

Jamie Pruden, Sean Gordon Lee Nielsen Kerstyn Karen Photo Junkies Conor HildebrandtOver 25 Unique Show Pieces with Descriptions!FREE WINE AND GOODIESCreepy Cosplay EncouragedMeet Special Guest Konn Lavery author of The White Hand!



DATE: Oct 2nd at 6:30 PM

The Orange Hub Main Foyer
10045 156 Street, Edmonton, AB
NO CHARGE TO ATTEND

Bring a friend, share on social media, and wear a spooky costume! Let’s get into the Halloween spirit!

The post Rutherford Manor Art Exhibition Grand Opening! appeared first on Konn Lavery.

Edward Willett expands the Worldshaper universe with his new novel, Master of The World

For September’s guest author we have Edward Willett, who is a writer and performer from Regina, Saskatchewan. He has authored more than 50 books of various types. He is well known for writing in the science fiction and fantasy genres. Some of his work has been published by DAW Books in New York, such as the novels Lost in Translationand 2009 Aurora Award-winning novel Marseguro. He has also been published with Bundoran Press. Let’s welcome him to the blog.

Hi Edward Willett, thank you for joining us. Can you introduce yourself to
the readers?

Hi, readers! As the introduction says, I’m a multiply
published author—I’ve actually lost count of exactly how many books I’ve had
published. They run the gamut from non-fiction (local history, science books,
biographies, and computer books) to my first love, science fiction and fantasy.
There’s even one book of poetry! I’ve written for children, young adults, and
adults.

I started my career as a newspaper reporter at the weekly Weyburn
(Saskatchewan) Review. (Weyburn was the town where I grew up.) At the
ripe old age of 24r, I became news editor there. Then, in my late 20s, I became
communications officer for the then-fledgling Saskatchewan Science Centre,
which is what brought me from Weyburn to Regina, where I’ve lived ever since.
After five years at the science centre, I quit my job and became a fulltime
freelance writer, which I’ve now been for 26 years.

In addition to writing (and some editing), I’ve done quite a
bit of acting and singing, both professionally and just for fun. I’m married to
a telecommunications engineer and have one daughter, who is currently enrolled
at the University of Toronto. Oh, and we have a black Siberian cat, Shadowpaw—can’t
forget him, since I used his name on my own little publishing company,
Shadowpaw Press.

Tell us about your latest release, Master of The World.

Master of the World is the second book in the Worldshapers
series, published by DAW Books, which began with Worldshaper last year.
In Worldshaper, the main character, Shawna Keys, has a pleasant, low-key
life: she’s just opened a pottery studio in a small city in Montana, she has a
great boyfriend, she has a wonderful best friend. But then everything changes in
an instant. Black-clad gunmen storm the coffee shop where she’s having lunch
with her friend. Her friend is killed. She’s about to be killed. She refuses to
believe it’s happening…and just like that, it isn’t. It hasn’t. The gunmen
are gone. The coffeeshop is undamaged…but her friend, Aesha, isn’t there, and
no one remembers that she ever existed.

A mysterious stranger, Karl Yatsar, shows up and explains to
Shawna that her world, which she thought was the only world, is in fact a
Shaped world—and that she Shaped it exactly the way she wanted it when she was
thrust into it ten years before. Not only that, it’s only one of a plentitude
of Shaped worlds in a vast extra-dimensional Labyrinth. And now, she’s about to
lose control of it. The Adversary, the leader of the gunmen, who touched her
forehead before threatening to kill her, has stolen her knowledge of the world
and is already turning it against her. They have to flee her world
entirely…not just to save her life, but because Karl believes she is a
powerful enough Shaper—even though, much to his shock and bewilderment, she didn’t
remember being one—to travel through all the worlds of the Labyrinth, gathering
the knowledge of each, and taking it to the mysterious Ygrair, the one who gave
all the Shapers, who originally came from the First World—our world—their
own worlds to Shape. Ygrair has been wounded and weakened, and needs someone to
bring her the knowledge of as many worlds as possible so that she can save the
Labyrinth and all its myriad worlds from the depredations of The Adversary, who
wants to enslave and then destroy them all.

In Worldshaper, Shawna and Karl embark on a hazardous
cross-country journey, trying to stay one step ahead of The Adversary, to find
the only place where a Portal can be opened into the next world, where Shawna
can begin the quest she’s been saddled with

 In Master of the
World, Shawna finds herself in that next world over, but without her guide
and mentor—Karl was left behind. In her first two hours, she’s rescued from a
disintegrating island by an improbable flying machine she recognizes from Jules
Verne’s Robur the Conqueror, then seized from it by raiders flying tiny
personal helicopters, and finally taken to a submarine that bears a strong
resemblance to Captain Nemo’s Nautilus. Oh, and accused of being both a
spy and a witch.

Shawna expects—hopes!—Karl Yatsar will eventually follow her
into this new steampunk realm, but exactly where and when he’ll show up, she
hasn’t a clue.

In the meantime, she has to navigate a world where two
factions fanatically devoted to their respective leaders are locked in
perpetual combat, figure out who the Shaper of the world is, find him or her,
and obtain the secret knowledge of this world’s Shaping. Then she has to
somehow reconnect with Karl Yatsar, and escape to the next Shaped world in the
Labyrinth…through a Portal she has no idea how to open.

Master of The World is part of the Worldshaper storyline, how
many novels do you estimate to have in the series?

The series is open-ended: the concept allows me to tell any
kind of story in any kind of world. Potentially, it could have any number of
novels (although I know how it ends, there’s no rush getting there). I’m
currently writing Book 3, which takes place in a world with werewolves and
vampires!

You’ve done a lot of writing, as mentioned on your website, over 50 books.
When and what did you first start writing about?

I’ve always been drawn to science fiction and fantasy. I
have two older brothers, both of whom read it, so the books were around the
house. My very first complete short story, written when I was eleven, was
called “Kastra Glazz: Hypership Test Pilot.” My mother typed it up for me and I
showed it to my Grade 7 English teacher, Tony Tunbridge, who did me the honor
of taking it seriously and providing some actual criticism—criticism which,
rather than prompting me to give up, instead prompted me to try to make the
next thing I wrote better. (I dedicated my recent stand-alone science-fiction
novel The Cityborn to Tony by way of thanking him.) I went on to write
three science fiction and fantasy novels in high school, so my course was set
early on.

Edward, you are a performer too. Care to elaborate more about this aspect
of your life?

I’ve always sung—my father was a choral director—and I got
the acting bug at age 11 when I played Petruchio in a one-act adaptation of The
Taming of the Shrew. I carried on acting and singing, whenever I got the
chance. In Weyburn, while I was at the newspaper, I was a founding member of
Crocus 80 Theatre, a new community-theatre group, and had leading roles in many
plays, and also directed twice. When I moved to Regina, I immediately
gravitated to Regina Lyric Light Opera (now Regina Lyric Musical Theatre), a
community theatre group that did musicals (it was in a production of The
Music Man that I first met my future wife.) I did a lot of shows with
Lyric, Regina Little Theatre, and Regina Summer Stage.

When I went full-time freelance, in addition to writing, for
three years I performed with a professional opera company, Prairie Opera, which
did six-week tours of Saskatchewan schools, typically two shows a day. That made
a nice addition to my fledgling freelance income. A few years later I was hired
by Regina’s professional theatre company, Globe Theatre, for a production of On
Golden Pond (I played the boyfriend from California). As a result of that,
I became a member of Canadian Actors’ Equity. I’ve continued to perform every
chance I get, both professionally and (more often) just for fun. I’ve been in
dozens of plays, musicals, and operas. I’ve also sung with many choirs,
including the Canadian Chamber Choir, an auditioned group made up of singers
from across the country.

I’ve combined my writing and performing sides a few times in
shows I’ve written and directed. Two I’ve done for Regina Lyric Musical Theatre
had fantastical elements. In 2013 I wrote and directed As Time Goes By: A
Love Story with Music and Ghosts, which did indeed have ghosts in it, and
this past year I wrote and directed The Music Shoppe, which might not
sound fantastical, but in fact took place in a mystical music store with an
ageless proprietor and a mysterious mechanical pianist with magical abilities.
Both were hits with audiences.

What was your most challenging novel to write to date?

Worldshaper was challenging because it’s designed to
set up an open-ended series. My editor at DAW Books, Hugo Award-winner Sheila
E. Gilbert, and I spent a lot of time trying to make sure that everything that
was needed to enable the series to work going forward was built into the first
book. It was also a bit challenging to write because it’s an interesting mix of
first-person (the main character, Shawna Keys) and third-person (her guide and
mentor, Karl Yatsar, and her enemy, The Adversary) viewpoints.

Now that Master of the World is released, do you have other novels
in the works?

In addition to Book 3 of the Worldshapers series,
I’ve got a middle-grade fantasy, Fire Boy, in circulation to publishers;
I’m finishing the editing of a young adult science fiction novel, Star Song,
which I’ll be bringing out myself through Shadowpaw Press; and I’ll be writing
another young-adult story, a dark fantasy called Changers (involving
shapeshifters) for ChiZine Publications. I have some other books I want to
bring out through Shadowpaw in the not-too-distant future, novels I’ve never
found a home for that I think deserve a chance to see the light of day, but I
have to fit those in around other work so they won’t be for a while yet.

And I have ideas for many more…

Is your writing and performance inspiration intertwined or are these parts
of your life entirely separate?

It’s all one thing. I find there’s a great overlap between
being and actor and director and being an author. Actors pretend to be other
people; writers do the same. Directors move actors around on stage and guide
them in their interactions with each other in order to best tell the story
being presented. So do writers. I’ve always felt, when I’m acting, even though
I’m bringing some other author’s characters to life, that I’m using many of the
same mental muscles as I do when I’m trying to make my own characters live and
breathe on the page.

Also, in Worldshapers, I’m able to make lots of musical -theatre
jokes, so there’s that.

Any final thoughts you’d like to share with the readers and aspiring
writers?

I urge both readers and aspiring writers to check out my podcast, The Worldshapers. It features hour-long conversations with some of the biggest names in science fiction and fantasy writing, with a focus on their creative process, from the generation of ideas to the planning process, the writing process, and the editing process. I also ask them about their philosophy of writing: why they do it, why they think anyone does it, and what impact they hope it has on readers. The interviews are all fascinating and offer great insights into the writing process. You can find it www.theworldshapers.com.

I particularly like the episode where E.C. Blake (the
pseudonym under which I wrote a fantasy trilogy called The Masks of Aygrima)
interviews me…

Thank you Edward Willett for joining us!

You can find Edward through the following links below.

Website: edwardwillett.com

Amazon: amazon.com/Edward-Willett/e/B001IR1LL6/

Goodreads: goodreads.com/author/show/22635.Edward_Willett

The post Edward Willett expands the Worldshaper universe with his new novel, Master of The World appeared first on Konn Lavery.

Game Time

Another summer has come to an end, and we are close to the final convention of the year for my appearances. What a ride it has been. From the beginning of the year with DeadbyCon, to the launch of The White Hand, and to When Words Collide, it has been a hustle of a year. With the fall right around the corner, it is game time. Starting September I’ll be working on the first draft of Rutherford Manor II. Once that is complete, it is onto editing Mental Damnation IV’s first draft. Two books for next year is the goal. It’s a big challenge, and it’ll be one hell of a reward completing it. Good thing I’m learning to work faster and not harder as we chatted about in the last Unprocessed Thoughts.

Welcome to Another Edition of Unprocessed Thoughts

August was a strange month. As enjoyable as it was to go to
a music festival, present at a writing convention, juggle contract work in
between, and write chapter outlines to enable writing a manuscript in September,
was heavy work. I got sick.

Physically sick with a nasty fusion of a fever and infection
all rolled into one grotesque two weeks of gloom. Mental exhaustion was a whole
other ballgame too. I’ll admit at the beginning of this Unprocessed Thoughts, I
mentioned that I was learning to work faster and not harder. You can still work
too much. Learning to work smark also includes taking breaks when you
need them, short ones and long ones.

So, unintentionally August was spent on cruise mode, doing only
required work, and that was all. The hiatus is why this month’s flash fiction
was later than usual, and my online activity has been kept low. Taking time
away is highly important.

The Break is Over. Game Time!

Now that summer is at a close, and I had time to rest, I am excited
to get back into the world of Rutherford Manor. Edmonton Comic Expo is the last
convention I am at this year, and it is in my city, so there is far less
pressure. The fall and winter are when I get most of my work done because the
weather is a drag, not travelling helps too. There is also something about the
dark, cold, misery that gets me jazzed up to create stuff.

Unprocessed Projects

Here’s a fun spin on the Unprocessed Thoughts category –
Unprocessed Projects! Tackling large projects like novels (in this case, Mental
Damnation IV and Rutherford Manor II) takes dedication. Sometimes you want to
chase something shiny and new. In the spirit of vagueness, I’ve been doing that
with a sci-fi-horror series in the monthly flash fiction and a super-secret
non-writing project for next year. More on that to come. For now, it’s game
time.

Beer Note: Anarchist Amber Ale by Cannery Brewing Company

For this month I had Anarchist Amber Ale by Cannery Brewing
Company. This red beer is a little heavier than what I would expect for an
amber, but it is delicious. It comes in a 355ml bottle, so it’s enjoyable to sip
on with no hurry to get onto the next drink.

The post Game Time appeared first on Konn Lavery.

Scrappers

Humanity experienced a life-altering split. The details of how are long lost. All humanity knows is that some went for the stars while the rest were left to rot on a dying Earth. Those left behind hide and salvage what they can from the old world, staying hidden from the star-beings, commonly known as Harvesters.

Scrappers is August’s flash fiction that brings readers into a continuation of last month’s sci-fi horror universe. Enjoy the story in written word, audio, artwork and soundscape.

Scrappers







Big Picture

We try to stay hidden by staying underground. People like me
have to go to the surface, though. When we do, we do our best to keep noise
levels down and stay light-footed. You’d be amazed at how well satellites can
pick up the alteration of landscape from the skylines. Even the smallest detail
– like a footprint – can be detected by their drones. Stealth is all we can do
until we find a better way to fend them off. There are probably a dozen names
given to them. Everyone has a grudge for something they did or someone that
they took. The Godly, Gene Freaks, Anti-Sapien, or whatever your choice of
phrase is, we all know them as the Harvesters. The Harvesters always return to Earth.
They come for us. They find us. No matter how well we hide.

“Angie, get with it,” came a croaky voice.

My eyes shot up to the sound, seeing a man looking over at
me, the orange hue from the setting sun casting sharp shadows on his
leathery-skin. The neon green LED lights from his goggles shined right at me.
Ruggy, my partner. We had a mission. Gather scraps.

“Sorry,” I said. “I wasn’t really here.” My thoughts were
being dragged off into the big picture of the world. The Harvesters. Our
attempts to survive. Stuff that Ruggy wouldn’t really care about hearing.

“Keep your mind on our why we’re on the surface. I don’t
want to be here like you, but there aren’t any options.” He shifted his rifle
under his arm, holding the gun at a forty-five-degree angle, gaze forward. “Magnify
your map and stay on course. The operator said there is an amplitude of metal
not far from here.”

The Lost

I adjusted the interface that displayed within my goggles. With
a twitch of my eyelid, the goggles changed the glass to project night vision.
Another subtle eyelid movement caused the UI to zoom in on the map that displayed
at the corner of my eye. It brought up a detailed landscape of the rubble that
we walked through. Well, a map of what everything used to look like.

“These maps aren’t helpful,” I said. “They’re well over a
century outdated.” I looked at the top-down view of the geographical location
of the map. It showcased skyscrapers, roads, and complete pathways. In reality,
all I could see was a charcoal skyline, rubble ground, and nature attempting to
grow new green life in between the concrete cracks.

“It’s the best that we have to work with,” said Ruggy. “Us Scrappers
always get the low-tech stuff.”

“Yep,” I said. There wasn’t much of a point in discussing
the topic. He was right. Scrappers were a low rank. That’s why we stick
together. Plus, I knew what Ruggy was thinking: shut up and do your job. It was
tough to do just that. We were in the middle of a long-forgotten civilization
trying to find old metal scraps, praying that we wouldn’t be detected by the
Harvesters – not exactly motivating.

“This seems like a waste of time for us,” I said. “We’ve
never gone this far out into the Lost.”

“Yeah, well,” Ruggy said. “When we’ve raided all of the
other closer past cities, we don’t have much of a choice but to go further in.”

I scanned the ground in front of me, holding the rifle
tight. There were washed-out yellow painted rocks mixed in with grey rocks. These
were once roads, at least what is left of them. I’ve seen complete streets in
the archive photos before. Never had I seen such large chunks of remnants in
person.

“All of this seems so surreal,” I said. “These people used
to live in peace before it all went south.”

“They didn’t think so,” Ruggy said, taking a turn down an
archway. “Down this way,” he said.

I followed behind him looking at the massive archway. It was
large enough to house a twelve-man transport shuttle. “What makes you say
that?” I asked.

“They weren’t happy and tried to change the world which got
us into this mess,” Ruggy said.

“I suppose.” Ruggy had a point, the past civilization were
the ones that brought humanity into a technological revolution. I just liked to
imagine there was a better world at some point in time. “They only wanted to do
what was good for us,” I said.

“Are you really that naïve? Come on, kid.” Ruggy said. “The
history books always look as good as they can, even if they are on the losing
side. I am sure that Harvesters paint a pretty glorified image of their past,
justifying why they do what they do. Good is relative.”

“If you don’t trust the history books, what do you trust?” I
asked.

“Well,” Ruggy said. “I don’t trust much. I do know not to
trust one stupid book. That’s been the issue with humanity for centuries. We
put our trust in a book. Now, we’re living the greatest downfall from this
repetition of history.”

My pace slowed down as we came across a massive semi-complete
structure. It was about one-third of a sculpted head. A bearded man with a long
nose and long hair, although it was difficult to tell from the missing pieces.

Amazing, I thought while looking up to the mountain in the near distance. Remnants of a sculpture’s base could be seen around a pile of rubble. An educated guess would be the head had tumbled down the mountainside during an explosion. That was my best guess. I really had no idea.

Gods on Repeat

I picked up my pace, realizing Ruggy had continued on
without me. Once I caught up beside him, I said, “It really isn’t all from one
book though. There’s bureaucracy, corruption, and human greed to take into
account.”

“True, but they shroud it in justification from their holy
books.”

“Yeah, it is tragic we kept repeating the past.”

“Its ridiculous. We used to believe in super beings, gods,
in the sky that judged our lives. Our ‘holy book’ was science and it was just
as bad as the rest.”

“The science era wasn’t much different from religion,” I
said looking at Ruggy’s leathery face.

“Why’s that?” he asked.

“Because the Harvesters turned themselves into gods in the
sky, judging us.”

Ruggy chuckled. “How poetic.”

I couldn’t tell if he was being his typical unenthusiastic
self, or if he was actually impressed with what I challenged him with. It was
hard to know with Ruggy, he always had the same mood with anything that he did.

The two of us continued down the uneven path, hopping over
large clumps of city remains and plants that had grown over the past world. Looking
at it all made a part of me want to just go back to the cruiser and give up.
Gathering scraps was tedious. The Lost was depressive to look at. It wasn’t
like I had much choice. Scrapping was all I was good at. I didn’t have any
other skills that could help humanity survive. There were no educational
systems for me to go to. People that possessed knowledge from the past carefully
chose who they passed knowledge onto. We have to operate this way. There is no
time for everyone to learn everything. We had to learn one skill fast and stick
to it.

The Harvesters were technologically advanced, mentally
superior, and physically herculean. There was no time for anyone to wish about
what they wanted to do. The higher commands run us through rigorous tests,
analyze what we are best at, and that is what we do until the day we die. It’s
that simple.

“Here’s food for thought,” Ruggy said as he reached the top
of a steep rock. “Playing off of what you said, about The Harvesters being
living gods and such…” he extended his hand for me.

“Yeah?” I asked as I took his hand, letting him pull me up.

“You ever fathom that humanity has just repeated itself?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, panting looking down at my
health-cuff. The screen lit up with a flick of my wrist. It stated we were just
over fifty kilometres from our cruiser. I thought that was a lot, but seeing that
Ruggy hadn’t even broken a sweat, made me feel like a goof. Looks like I’d have
to get on a tighter exercise routine when we got back to base.

“The Harvesters,” Ruggy said. “They were us at one point.
Gods are only projections of what we wish to be. They had access to become one,
and that is what they did. Perhaps humanity has gone through similar routes in
the past, and religious books are just history books about them.”

“You mean like what the Babblers are doing?” I raised my
eyebrow with a smirk. The idea was humorous. “You know Babblers are just
desperate to find meaning to all this chaos by speaking about it like some
prophecy.”

“Exactly my point. The Babblers are no different than any
prophet. I take it you never got familiar with some of the archive’s religious
texts?”

“No, can’t say that I have,” I said. “I’m a Scrapper, I
rarely have time to read.”

“Yeah, you’re also in your twenties. Ah, don’t worry about
it. I was a baboon at that age, too, chasing all the fucks I could get.”

My nostrils flared. Who did Ruggy think he was summing me up
as some young horny uneducated kid? He had a way of belittling people. Unfortunately,
I had to work with him. Scrappers stick together once they were chosen.
Scrapper’s code.

“Anyways…” Ruggy said after my prolonged rage-silence. “Perhaps
the past religions like Christianity, Hellenism, Hinduism, you name it, all had
holy men who saw things for what they were.” Ruggy brought out his hand. “I’m
not saying this is the kind of stuff that I believe in, but just playing off
your idea.”

I smirked. “Really? You know a damn lot more than I do about
religion. You sure you’re not becoming a Babbler?”

“Zip it. Just throwing the idea out there that maybe this
isn’t the first time humanity has surpassed itself and went for the stars,
leaving the rest of us down here.”

“It’s a wild theory.”

I wasn’t sure what else to say. Ruggy knew a lot more about
humanity’s past than I did, and it wasn’t worth challenging him. As he put it
so delicately, I was just a young horny kid. His statement had me wondering
though – was humanity just repeating itself? Did the past civilizations turn
men into gods, like the Harvesters? It’s a crazy idea, and no one truly knows.
History was distorted. The details of how they went for the cosmos and left us
here was a convoluted – and confusing – rabbit hole that isn’t worth going
down. Trust me. I’ve tried. Every ‘fact’ contradicts itself as to how
humanity’s split started.

Retrieval

I followed behind Ruggy as we continued down the mapped-out
path projected on the goggle-screens. Of course, the goggles could only
estimate roughly where we went. It’s not like we had any satellites to work
with. That’s a giant flag to attract Harvesters. The chips processors are
attached to our health-cuffs, they do some weird science-algorithm-tech thing
that I could never understand. All I know is the map talks to the cuff, and
they can estimate my steps with the city’s map’s size.

“Looks like we’re almost there,” Ruggy said.

“So, the operator found some jackpot from their A.I.
algorithms or what? I still don’t get why we had to come out this far.” I
asked.

“I don’t know Angie. That isn’t my department, nor yours.
They tell us where to go, and we got the scraps. That’s all.”

“Right,” I said while tightening the grip of my rifle. We
had never gone this far out into The Lost before. The fact we left our cruiser
made me uncomfortable. If a Harvester were to show up, we were on our own. We
couldn’t outrun them – that’s pointless. We had no transportation – we were
sitting ducks on foot.

Ruggy brought his rifle up as we turned the corner. The
smell of burning metal began to pick up. This was abnormal. Burning smells
meant something recent was around. Nothing burns in The Lost. Those fires and
explosions happened long before our time.

I used my eyelids to navigate through the goggle’s
interface. The screen projected a keyboard and message thread between Ruggy and
I. My eyelids twitched in swift movements, stringing together alphabetic
characters into words.

DO YOU SMELL THAT? I typed out in the chat.

YEAH, KEEP YOUR GUARD UP, Ruggy typed back as he
descended down a rocky, narrow, path.

I felt the sweat build up on my pits and palms. Whatever
this was wasn’t part of our standard protocol. The operators typically had us
find piles of rubble we had to dig through to snag metal. This was something
different.

We continued down the path, creeping slowly to avoid loose rocks.
The last thing we needed was to make noise. Ruggy reached the end of the steep decline
to where the path opened up. Smoke rose from the open charcoaled ground. Even
with the goggle’s enhanced vision, Ruggy nor I could make out what was in front
of us.

I raised my rifle as I reached Ruggy’s side, stopping right
in front of the opening.

My eyelids moved, typing, I CAN’T SEE ANYTHING.

NOR CAN I, Ruggy wrote.

YOU SURE THIS IS THE RIGHT PLACE? I asked.

YEAH, CHECK THE MAP YOURSELF.

The map was pretty accurate when it synched with the health-cuffs.
Plus, there was only rubble all around us. There was nothing of value here
other than this mysterious smoke and burning smell.

WHAT DO WE DO? I asked.

WE’RE SCRAPPERS, WE SCRAP WHATEVER IT IS.

Ruggy tightened his grip on his rifle and stepped forward.
He didn’t look back, expecting me to follow. I had to. Ruggy was right, we were
Scrappers. With that in mind, I took a deep breath and marched alongside Ruggy
into the smoke.

The closer we got, the smell heightened into strange stinging
sensation. It overpowered my senses and couldn’t smell anything else. God, I
wanted to have a mask at this point in time. Scrappers always got the leftover
supplies and never the ones we needed. At least we had the goggles, it kept our
eyes clear as we moved through the unknown.

I stayed slightly behind Ruggy, making sure nothing came
from his sides or behind us. We entered the thick of the haze. Nothing was
visible beyond a few feet. The further we stepped in, the smoke changed into an
orange-red hue.

FIRE, Ruggy typed.

IT’S A CRASH? I responded.

A roar erupted from the brighter flames further ahead. We
raised our rifles. A humanoid silhouette rose from the flaming ground, deformed
from the light. Large limbs reached up for the sky. Too large to be human. The
roar morphed into a howling groan. A sound of agony.

HARVESTER, Ruggy typed.

YOU SURE? I replied

POSITIVE. WHAT ELSE CRASH-LANDS ON EARTH?

HARVESTERS NEVER CRASH-LAND.

MAYBE. BUT THERE’S NOTHING ELSE IN SPACE.

WHAT ABOUT THAT THEORY YOU JUST CAME UP WITH? PAST
CIVILIZATIONS GOING FOR THE STARS?

SHUT IT, KID. DO AS I SAY.

WHAT?

SHOOT FIRST, ASK QUESTIONS LATER.

I exhaled slowly. A part of me was annoyed. There were so
many questions that we hadn’t answered. We were making choices that were beyond
our rank. Whatever we were witnessing was not a Scrapper’s role. Harvester or
not, this was something we had to report. There was also the fact we could end
up getting killed. Scrappers were about stealth and retrieval, not killing
things.

WE SHOULD CALL IT IN, I typed.

WE CAN’T, REMEMBER? Ruggy replied. WE’RE ON A
LOCAL CHANNEL. HELPS WITH STEALTH.

LET’S GET BACK TO THE CRUISER THEN. THE OPERATORS WILL
WANT TO KNOW ABOUT THIS.

WALK 50K? THIS THING WILL BE GONE BY THEN. WE SHOOT IT,
CALL IT IN.

I wasn’t sure what else to say to Ruggy. We wouldn’t be able to make it back to the cruiser, report the finding, and expect to find whatever we found to still be here. Action was needed. Besides, Ruggy had his mindset regardless of any protocol. He wanted to find out what this was. I had no other choice. I couldn’t leave him behind. Scrapper’s code.

The post Scrappers appeared first on Konn Lavery.

Craig DiLouie discusses his new Dystopian Thriller, Our War, Available August 20, 2019

This month we welcome back author Craig DiLouie who joined us at the beginning of 2019. He has written in a range of genres such as thrillers, apocalyptic horror, sci-fi and fantasy. His new novel showcases a tribalization of America and a distressing example of what might happen if its cultural cold war ever ramps up. Let’s welcome Craig DiLouie back to the blog!

Welcome back Craig Dilouie and congratulations on the release of Our War!
Can you give us a brief introduction to yourself for those who don’t know you?

Thanks for having me back!

I’m an author of speculative fiction including sci-fi, fantasy, and horror. My books have been published by big houses like Simon & Schuster (Gallery imprint) and Hachette (Orbit) as well as small presses (Permuted, Salvo) and self-published.

Last interview you were releasing your dark fantasy novel, One of Us,
now you have a dystopian thriller, Our War. Tell us about the new novel.

Published by Orbit, Our
War offers a brutal, unflinching, realistic look at what a second American
civil war might really look like.

The story of this war is told through a brother and sister forced to fight as child soldiers on opposite sides in a besieged Indianapolis. Their lives also touch a UNICEF worker who wants to end the use of child soldiers, a journalist who wants to expose it, and a militia commander who begins to see the humanity among those he hates. We experience the war through their eyes.

What drove you to want to tell the story of Our War?

The novel started with Donald Trump’s polarizing rhetoric
and America’s increasing political violence. My question was, what if he was
impeached and convicted but refused to leave office, triggering a national
armed protest among the Right?

Novels speculating about a second civil war tend to imagine
it as a North/South or Blue/Red interstate conflict. I believe a civil war in
today’s America would look far more like Bosnia in the 1990s than the U.S. in
the 1860s. If you look at voting records on a county rather than a state level,
you see islands of blue, which are the metropolitan areas, in oceans of red,
which are the rural areas. In a second civil war, this is how the battle lines
might be drawn, rural versus urban. The military would likely remain largely on
the sidelines, protecting vital infrastructure and other safe zones, and demanding
a political solution while police and civilian militias did most of the
fighting.

The war’s first major casualty, therefore, would be American
exceptionalism. The horrible things we’re used to seeing in broken countries
like Syria could easily happen here under the right circumstances—disruption,
refugees, surviving on UN aid, atrocities, and even child soldiers
supplementing militias. And very quickly too. In such a war, everybody would
fight, and nobody would win.

Out of all the works you have done, what makes Our War stand out?

Readers who like my fiction tend to praise it for characters
they care about facing extreme struggle in a world that feels gritty and real. Our War is no exception.

What makes it really stand out is ideological neutrality and
originality of approach. Second civil war novels tend to favor one side and
demonize the other, offering a wish fulfillment story for readers of a certain
ideological stripe. Which is fine, but hardly realistic.

Our War takes an
even-handed approach, allowing the characters to advocate for their political
views, but without me as the author openly injecting or favoring my own. This
is one of the reasons I chose child soldiers as two of the protagonists; all
the politics mean nothing to them, at least at first. When they do become
radicalized, it is around very simple narratives, not difference in policies.

The second thing that makes Our War stand out is in its approach, as I pointed in my answer to
your previous question.

What do you hope readers will get out of the novel?

Our War is a
dystopian world in which the insane has become normalized. As with all good
dystopian fiction from 1984 to The Handmaid’s Tale, it provides a
warning. In this case, the warning is America’s tribalization around different
narratives and realities could break the country. Without a single, unifying
idea of what America is, it is just another multiethnic empire capable of
fracturing.

What’s next on your writing agenda now that Our War and One of Us
are complete?

I am currently under contract with Orbit to produce a novel
with horror elements. Tentatively titled Mysterion,
the novel is about a group of people who grew up in an apocalyptic cult and
survived its horrific last days, who must now reunite to confront their past
and the entity that appeared on the final night. If you liked IT and Netflix’s The Haunting of Hill House, you’ll love this.

Let’s thank Craig DiLouie for joining us to talk about his new novel Our
War!

Thanks again for having me back!

Novels

http://craigdilouie.com

http://craigdilouie.com/book/our-war

Social Media

https://www.facebook.com/craig.dilouie

https://twitter.com/CraigDiLouie



Craig DiLouie’s Biography

Craig DiLouie is an acclaimed American-Canadian author of literary dark fantasy and other fiction. Formerly a magazine editor and advertising executive, he also works as a journalist and educator covering the North American lighting industry. His fiction has been nominated for major awards, optioned for screen, and published in multiple languages. He is a member of the Imaginative Fiction Writers Association, International Thriller Writers, and the Horror Writers Association. He lives in Calgary, Canada with his two wonderful children.

The post Craig DiLouie discusses his new Dystopian Thriller, Our War, Available August 20, 2019 appeared first on Konn Lavery.