Andy Luke's Blog, page 8

Weekly Facebook Vlog

For the last few weeks I’ve been experimenting with livestreaming on Facebook to some moderate success. The idea is to run personal updates on stuff in my life: telly, books, nights out and what-not as well as a little Watch Thief update in 15 minute (going on 18 minute) slots.

The most popular time seems to be midweek 9pm-11pm. Interact with the live-stream if there’s the opportunity. I’ll be tidying my lounge up for all-a-yous-ones at https://www.facebook.com/spider.confuser

The Watch Thief – Chapter 20

Raymond Street Jail, April 1st, 1915 It was a Saturday evening, three days before his thirty-seventh birthday and if he was honest, the jail was not like a hotel. A bed should not go wall to wall. A desk was smaller without a bookcase. Why did a door need a lock when a door was already a lock in and of itself? Down the hall hacking coughs spread viral ills among the draught. Bernard talked in his sleep in the next cell. Warden Hayes rarely visited Trebitsch these days and his friends a...

The Watch Thief – Chapter 19

Saturday 15 January, 1916: Joe’s Restaurant, Brooklyn.

Trebitsch passed the wash-room, opened the fire exit into the corridor. Ethel flashed lights, picked him up at the other end of the subway. They sped across Brooklyn Bridge and Hells Kitchen, through the remnants of Little Germany. She dropped him on the kerb at West 125th Street, kissed him as he left. Upstairs, Anna took his cap to burn. Charles applied the lather and he looked at himself. In the black frock he resembled the Canadian c...

The Watch Thief, Chapter 18

Saturday 15 January, 1916: Joe’s Restaurant, Brooklyn.

Joe’s was where people met people. Men and women swam in one another’s eyes, five friends laughed at every table. Among all the parties Francis Johnson, twenty-two, sat at his table, feeling alone. An old man looked at him judgementally from the table opposite. His whiskey on the rocks shook like boats in a harbour at night.

One Month Earlier…

Over breakfast, Trebitsch was ribbed by Lampe and Bernard. He’s planning his great escape, the...

The Watch Thief, Chapter 17

Foreign Office, Whitehall. May 24, 1915.

Eyre Crowe greeted Sir Grey as he entered the office and the Minister returned the sentiment.

“I saw William Tyrrell on the way in. I knew he was under enormous pressure but he’s in a bad way, looked very stressed,” said Grey.

“His sick leave starts next week. Minister, have you read The Times this morning?”

“I left my copy with William. He said he wanted a read. What’s in it?”

“They’ve reprinted a feature from The New York World Sunday Magazine. I ma...

The Watch Thief, Chapter 16

Little Hungary, 9 February, 1915

Simon saw to the guests at table six. Laid the cutlery in front of them, formally, and set down the red triangle serviettes onto white tablecloths and took their order: rice and steamed vegetables, pork with fried cheese side and halászlé soup. His manager, a portly American, took the note off him at the kitchen door. The customer alone in the corner was his brother, Trebitsch.

Eight hours earlier, the Philadelphia’s foghorn blasted the passenger hold. Trebit...

The Watch Thief, Chapter 15

Whitehall, London. 1st February, 1915.

Reginald Hall left The Strand and entered Watergate House. Mid-forties and kept trim, he had a bulbous head, almost bald. From the back white tufts sprouted round his ears. He wore black, looked more like a captain of business with his wide pleasing smile. Hall’s most noticeable feature was the dark, perceptive eyes interrupted by sporadic twitching and blinking like a signal lamp.

“Shh, Blinker’s here,” whispered Mrs. Carberry.

He’d entered one of the r...

Refining my story

I've been having difficulties managing my workload lately. The commitment to deliver one new chapter a week has been making my edges grizzly. It shouldn't be a problem. I've delivered all the work I promised. I'm writing for prose a ninth draft script. I'm going the extra length to make sure the story shines in it's new form. The chapters released so far are an impressive body. That's not taking into account the mighty bonus features for Patreon subscribers.

I can shine it all I want but it won't change the fact reader numbers are low. So I figure why worry? Why get upset turning out the best possible work when good, strong work will do? For me to tell my story it means collecting maps, official documents and photos, understanding historical affairs and making sure the reader gets a fully immersive time travel adventure experience. I've been thinking I need to step back and just tell the story I set out to. To stop adding extra onto every aspect. Yes, myself and my ten readers will appreciate the shiny-ness but where's the justice in anything less than five thousand readers? It's completely out of proportion to the work I have put in. Much better to take a chill pill and enjoy myself, rather than worry about those thousands. They'll catch up eventually. Meantime, a good strong work will do. There's probably something to be said for doing the bare minimum.

The Watch Thief, Chapter 14

January, 1911. Watford, England.

Park View was less a home for her husband than an office: Wayside couldn’t have been more different. The house was roomy enough for the boys to spread jigsaw puzzles over tables. Krausz, twenty-one and living with them, would play cards on Sunday afternoons. His uncle would pretend to lose so the lad could have some extra money in his pocket. The nearby River Gade was a gentle sound, streaming away all their problems. It would flow through Cassiobury Park wher...

The Watch Thief, Chapter 13

January 1911, York.

Lamps hung from York Railway Station below its great spiralling ribcage roof. Trebitsch could not avoid looking up. The roof stretched out over the platform, always ahead of him. Two arches separated by running girders, like an appendix. He was not far outside when he heard a roar, something so dark it covered the sun whole, for a moment. Across the road was the Station Hotel, a monster of a gothic industrial complex. She spawned stone nodes, pillars, gates and smaller tri...