Richard Murray's Blog, page 3

Something new

I have been out of sorts for a while, lost in a miserable mental state and in that dark and miserable place I found myself unable to write. I was blocked and no matter how often I would bring up my WIP I would find myself staring at the screen just unable to do anything.

Deciding that I needed to stir things up in the old noggin, I chose to spend this past weekend doing something other than staring at my half finished WIP.

I wrote a short story of the *ahem* adult variety and published that through Amazon and Kindle Unlimited. It was a quick 5000 words that from the moment I sat down to the moment I finished, just flowed. It was incredible to have that feeling of joy at creating something again.

Exhilarated at the fresh enthusiasm for writing that I had found from somewhere deep within myself, I put down the first chapter of a science fiction story I had been toying with.

Since I won’t be sharing my naughtier works here, I will share with you this first chapter for anyone to read. I won’t give any indication of the greater story or what will happen, I believe that the first chapter should be always be enough to encourage the reader to want to know more. I hope that I have managed that with this. As always, comments welcome.

Are you working again? I swear I heard the click that meant you were recording. Oh please god, please be working. Someone needs to know, someone needs to understand what happened here. It wasn’t my fault, I never meant for this to happen.

Chapter 1

I’d always wanted to travel. In fact, I could recall telling my mothers’ at an early age that I wanted to be the first of our family to leave the planet. They had scoffed and told me how I would change my mind when I was older. The vastness of space is nowhere for an intelligent young man to be.

Their warnings had fallen on deaf ears but as I made my way through the plain corridors towards the docking ring, worry began to surface. I remembered their warnings and a kernel of doubt formed in my mind. Was I right in leaving my homeworld?

I clutched my case tighter and squared my shoulders as I shoved those thoughts as far down into the darkness as I could. It wouldn’t do to have my doubts show for the offworlders. My crèche mates and mothers had spoken at length about that too. Offworlders were little more than barbarians. Full of wild emotions and ready to pray on any young Athernite who wasn’t prepared.

Not for the first time I wished that the station had windows and clamped down on that thought. It wasn’t very Athernian to wish for things that one couldn’t change and was yet another sign of why I felt so different from my people.

My mothers, my crèche mates and even my fathers were all true Athenians’. Even Narbello Nar Maz, likely the most adventurous of my fathers had frowned often when I visited. He had been to both the continents and the forested moon that orbited our world in his role as a shuttle pilot. Which somehow made it worse when he looked at me askance as I spoke of my dreams of leaving the homeworld, the system and even our sector of known space.

“Those are not the proper dreams little one.” He would tell me as he prepared my favoured meal of Jarro stew. “You should dream of a life spent well in service of our world, like your crèche mates do.”

“But I want to see.” I would reply.

“See what little one?” he would enquire as he had done so often before.

“Why, everything of course.”

He had chuckled and just shaken his head, dismissing my dreams as something I would grow out of in the fullness of time. It was the same way that my mother’s would and was perhaps the main reason that I avoided the sharing of communion as often as I did.

I paused in my journey to compose myself, my thoughts threatening to spill out. Something I would certainly not want to happen. My family would take the first visible sign of doubt as reason to convince me to stay.

A moulded bench of plain grey plastic was set to one side of the corridor and I settled down onto its cool surface. A quick run through of the calming exercise to still the storm in my mind and I was soon breathing easier and able to once again feel joyous apprehension at the journey to come.

Apprehension was such a rare emotion to feel that I held on to it for as long as I could, even reaching up one finger to brush at the implant controls set behind my right ear. It would be pleasant to keep a recording of the feeling, to allow myself to experience it once more whenever I wished.

When the calm serenity returned to my mind once more, I reached up once again and pressed a second time on the controls to cease the recording. I rose to my feet and set off walking, my case held by my side.

In short time I entered the docking ring and paused to gape at the people crowded into that great space.

Athenians’ by and large were a conservative and often composed people. Our bodies and public spaces reflected our ordered minds and lives. The people who wandered around the docking ring were clearly not Athernian.

All around me sound filled the air as a multitudinous people wandered the area, plying their trade or going about their business in as noisy a fashion as they could.

I was able to single out the various crew members of the great vessels docked to the outer ring of the station by their garb. They one and all seemed to favour utilitarian ship suits, once piece garments that held a number of pockets for equipment.

Amongst those people were the traders. A few of them wore business attire but the vast majority seemed to feel the need to dress like the mythical peacock from the old earth stories. Hats, gowns and robes, coats of fur and metallic cloth, a thousand different types of eye catching jewellery and more bare flesh showing than I had seen since reaching adulthood.

Here and there in the throng I could spy Athernites. They wore the utilitarian grey robe with four slashes of colour on the left shoulder to indicate their rank and role as merchants. Even without those garments they could be easily discerned by the strained look upon their faces.

I steeled myself and entered the crowd, carefully making my way through the gaps that opened up between the people. An occasional apology was issued as I stepped ahead of a harried looking offworlder or overwhelmed Athernite.

My gaze lifted to the great screens above each of the docking ports. On them in a multitude of languages were inscribed the name of the vessel, port of origin and next port of call along with the standard line of text that denoted their purpose.

The first vessel was of little use to me, hailing from two systems away and on a trade run that would take it to one more place before returning home. I approached the next and after one look at the hulking offworlder with wild hair and an even wilder gaze as he watched the crowd I decided that it was perhaps not for me.

So it went, for three hours I wandered from docking port to docking port as I searched for a suitable vessel. I did find one that seemed almost ideal but was unfortunately not interested in taking on passengers. Somewhat disheartened I continued searching.

My arm was beginning to ache from carrying my case as I approached a promising docking port. The screen above indicated that it was an independent vessel and not owned by either a corporation or a particular world. Its port of origin was a great enough distance from my own homeworld that I had never heard of it and it had no stated plans to return anytime soon.

Two humanoid figures lounged by the docking lock and I made my way towards them while examining them to better form an idea of the crew makeup. They were of mixed gender which boded well as some systems had strange notions on what gender was allowed to do what task.

The male was over two metres in height and wore a pale green ship suit. He had a harness attached with several empty pouches and holders. I couldn’t help but wonder what they had contained. He wore a scruffy beard that was the same dark colour as his hair and his round face held a jovial smile as he watched me approach.

His companion, the female was just a few inches shorter than he and had a deep burgundy hair cut short, no doubt for comfort. Her ship suit was the same pale green as his and while her harness had empty places, they were less than his. She stared back at me with eyes the same colour as her hair and spoke quietly to the male.

I bowed low as I reached them with three fingers extended against my chest, a gesture of respect for their chosen profession and their knowledge.

“Mia par tor cam?” The man said in a firm voice that carried easily over the din.

“Your pardon sir, do you speak Athernian?” I asked.

“Na tar priam.” He said and I tilted my head as I watched him.

“Forgive me I do not speak your language, do you have any other?”

“Sha til mariam lak par.” The female said in a lilting tone and I glanced across to her.

“I am very sorry but I do not understand.” I said.

The female rolled her eyes and tapped one finger behind her ear insistently as she spoke. “Sha til mariam lak par.”

A slight blush rose up my cheeks as I realised what she meant and I reached up to my implant to tap a sequence into the controls.

“Maybe he’s an idiot.” The male was saying to his companion who shrugged and smiled.

“Ah, forgive me. I had never used that feature before.” I said as my blush deepened.

“What do you want kid?” The female asked, her voice echoing strangely as she spoke her own language with my implant translating the words directly into my head.

“I’m looking to purchase passage.” I said with another low bow of appreciation for the reminder of my implants abilities.

“We’re full.” She said and my disappointment must have shown as her companion spoke.

“Sorry lad, we’ve only got so many spaces for passengers.”

“I won’t take up much room. I’m willing to bed down anywhere.” I said with more than an embarrassing hint of desperation.

The female looked at me curiously and I turned away in shame at her noticing my lack of calm. I had no need to record these emotions as I had felt them often before and no doubt would again.

“Wait.” She said to me and her companion glanced questioningly at her.

“We’ve no room.” He said to her.

“Yeah but there’s something different about this one. I’m intrigued and the captain will be too.”

“Different?” he said.

“How many of these freaks have you seen blush or get embarrassed?” She asked and I wondered if I had heard her right.

“You got any skills lad?” The male asked as he turned back to me.

“I have several skills that could be of use to you.” I said, “If you would consent to a communion I would be more than willing to share knowledge with you.”

“Do what?” He said with a look of puzzlement crossing his features.

“That weird head thing.” The female interjected, “They all connect to each other like insects, a group mind thing.”

“That so?” The male mused before speaking directly to me, “Sorry lad, normal folk don’t do that.”

It was fascinating. I had of course learnt that many people’s beyond our system were unable to commune but to find evidence of it in person was terribly exciting and just helped with my determination to experience more of the space beyond my world.

“In that case I believe that I can make a packet and forward it to you, if you have an accessible device?” I said as I reached up and tapped out another sequence on my implant.

The female reached into one of the pouches on her harness and pulled out a rectangular plastic device. She touched a button on the side and the display lit up. She looked at me and I nodded to indicate that I could locate it.

Her device felt different to the equipment my own people used and it took me several seconds to configure the information in my mind and send it across to her. My blush deepened at the time it had taken but neither of the humanoids across from me seemed to be displeased.

“No. No. No.” The female said as she read through the items on the display, the male reading over her shoulder pointed at something on the device.

“That could be useful, we could sell the captain on that.” He said.

“Yeah, maybe. Would be better if we had something else though.” She said musingly as she tapped once more on the screen.

“Ah, we can train him up. Been awhile since we had a junior member of crew to run errands for us.” The male replied.

“Fine, I’ll send it up to Nelson. If he thinks it’s worthwhile, he can check with the captain.” She said.

“Right lad,” The male said cheerfully, “Park your arse here and wait. We’ll see if we have something for you.”

I bowed low once more with right fist pressed against my chest, a gesture of gratitude for their time and efforts that it occurred to me that they may not understand.

A quick glance sideways as I moved past them and placed my case carefully on the decking seemed to indicate that they either hadn’t noticed or didn’t care as they went back to their own conversation.

My finger tapped the control on my implant as I settled comfortably on my heels and waited with as much patience as I could. If their captain allowed me to join them on the ship, I wanted to record the emotions to experience later. They would make an interesting gift to my fathers and mothers to remember me by.

Dark Dreams of Endless Nights.

It’s there again, creeping around the edge of my vision, lying in wait for just that right time to come crashing in.

I can try to stave it off, I can fight it but I won’t win. All I can do is hold it back as long as possible and hope that this time it won’t be so bad, this time it won’t utterly consume me… though I know it will.

That darkness will fill me, chasing away all of the light that belongs in my life. My senses will dull, the world will fade out around me and before I know it I will be contemplating how long it will be before I can take that final breath.

It’s been building for a while now. My mood has soured and sleepless nights have left me irritable and unpleasant company. I stare moodily at my keyboard at work and count each minute as it passes, screaming in my head for the colleague who sits across from me to just stop talking.

Leave me alone, I need to focus on the fight. I can’t hold it back while distracted by you and your inane ramblings about your life, a life that at its worst can’t help but sound better than what I am dealing with right now.

I turn to alcohol and reckless pursuits. I know it won’t really help but it’s a distraction, something to occupy me and take me away from that insidious darkness forever lurking just out of sight.

My head pounds and my eyelids droop as I realise just how futile it is to fight, to try and avoid that darkness crashing in around me. So I embrace it. I play that music I love, those depressing songs that in my current mood aid me in my dreams of endless slumber and I dive down into the deep dark and hope that I make it out through the other side and into the light once more… though perhaps I really don’t.

The urge to weep comes upon me, a faint hope that perhaps it will provide that cathartic release that will get me through this. But I don’t, I can’t. Emotion seems so distant and I realise that all I am is emptiness. That which was me has drained away and I don’t think I will be able to find myself again.

It’s close to being over and how I long for that eternal sleep, free of doubt and worry, free of loss and despair, free of this miserable existence. My urge to keep fighting is fading and it calls to me, that sweet sharp pain that blossoms into some kind of feeling. Should I give in? Should I do it and feel something? Anything…

God! How I want to feel something other than this soul crushing weariness. My mind tells me that it will soon be over and if I can just make it through then things will improve. The world will fill with sound and colour, with life and even joy. I just need to wait, to hold on that little bit longer.

But it’s getting hard, so very hard. Each time it is taking so much more of me with it, needing so much more to get past it, more than I have to give.

Perhaps this will help. Writing this and being a part of creating something even if it’s never read. Maybe it will kick start that desire within me, that need to create and write. I hope so. I’m running out of reasons to climb out of the darkness and I know that one day soon, nothing will be enough.

The darkness will take me and I will stay forever locked in its dark embrace, unable and unwilling to leave until that final moment comes. In this moment, here and now. I hope that’s soon.

It’s coming!

It has been a long while since I posted because of… well, many reasons. Primarily, I’ve been working on a new book.

The blurb reads:

A witch raised from birth to be a killer for his coven, Nathan yearns to be free to choose his own path.

With years spent hiding from her father, Rebecca must learn to use the power she holds to protect those she loves.

Dark creatures are being drawn to England, Seers visions of the future end abruptly and Rebecca’s father has begun a ritual for which he needs only one thing, his daughter and the power she possesses.

It is currently going through editing at the moment and I am looking for a release this month. Exciting stuff and I am quite excited by this story. It will be available through Kindle Unlimited too.

Self Doubt

We all suffer from it at some point in our lives. That crippling self doubt that makes us question everything we do. It sucks.

I have written and self published eleven stories now. The Zombie Apocalypse series has been a consistent seller with great reviews. Sure, it hasn’t sold a million copies or even a thousand yet, but it’s chugging along and some people at least seem to like it.

People I don’t personally know have told me, or others who know me, that my writing has improved throughout the course of that series. They say that the books are well written and they love the characters.

Why then, when it’s time to work on a new project am I doubting my ability? Doubting my ideas and the stories themselves? It really does suck.

I have begun three different stories  since I completed the finale of the zombie series. The first one, a steampunk style third person perspective story reached around a thousand words. The next, an urban paranormal story in first person perspective reached nearly eight thousand words before the doubts and questioning came.

The third, my latest is a superhero story. I am around five thousand words into it and I have a rough outline set in my mind for the entire story, but every single darn time that I open up the word document to continue, I will sit there and stare at the page and nothing happens. I worry that it will be no good, that people will hate it, that it won’t sell and as a single parent trying to start a writing career, I need the sales.

Then I look around at others, the people who release their first book and it sells several thousand in the first month. I read those stories to see what is different and honestly… some of them are terrible, yet they are outperforming my own. Which just adds fuel to the self doubts.

I just beta read a story for another writer and to be honest, it wasn’t great. The writing was okay but the lead character was annoying, it was cliche filled and I cannot stress how much I am sick of the same tired old Vampire, Werewolf, Girl love triangle.

The worst part of all was that nothing happened to the main character. Everything fell into their lap, there were no real conflicts to resolve for the character. It was from start to end, a series of everything going the characters way with no real danger or struggle. In short, it was boring.

So I dutifully finished the book and filled out the form that the author had provided to give my views. I didn’t hear anything back and wondered if I had offended so I sent an email to check they had received it and they replied.

Yes, they received the feedback and perhaps it was just not to my taste because all the other beta readers loved it…

I am still learning as a writer and I don’t argue that, but I have read books for thirty plus years and I know a good story when I read one. I know what keeps me turning the pages to find out just what happens next to the character, to the story.

To have that reply, just adds to my doubts. Do I in fact know a good story? Do I understand what makes the reader keep reading? Do I have any business offering advice on someones story?

Maybe it’s time to give up on writing. I know I’ve only been working at it for a year but I have to ask is it worth the amount of stress on my already weak self-confidence?

I know that I am depressive by nature and I’ve always been a worrier, but I don’t know. Maybe I should give up. I hate that I’m feeling this way because I genuinely love seeing my stories out there, seeing people enjoy them.

Honestly, I don’t know.

Why

I am a single father. I put everything I have into being a parent to my daughter and yet now, when she is out of the house on a sleep over, I can’t help the dark thoughts that won’t be ignored any longer.

I long for death, an end to everything. I have no real interest in life. I have a duty to my children, a duty which I will stand by. I will raise my children, I will teach them to be the strong independent girls that they deserve to be but all the while I will be longing to die.

Why? I don’t know and no longer care. I am on anti-depressents and I am very aware that I need them. The problem is they can only mask the symptoms.

My children are everything to me. They are the only thing in this world that I care about. Work, family, sex, alcohol, gambling… all sops. All minor ways to pass the time in this pathetic existence that I call life. I want to die, fuck it, I want to take the world with me.

Right now I am drunk. My daughter is at a sleepover and for the first time in a long while I am free to sit and be alone and all it does is give me time to go through all the reasons I shouldn’t be here.

I imagine the knife slicing through my flesh, that momentary burst of pain followed by relief and even pleasure. The spurt of blood, the chance to reflect on the reality of this pathetic existence and the long, calm, goodnight… fuck I want that so badly.

But no, I will be the dad, the parent, the responsible one and I will be here for my children. Four more years until my youngest is out of school and independent enough for me to finally end this painful existence. Four more years of life. God, I wish it was tonight…

First Chapter

Ok, so I have been thinking about new projects and one story that seemed to stand out for me was an Urban Paranormal one.

Essentially, it is the story of a man who dies and returns… I don’t want to give away too many details but for anyone who is interested, here’s the first chapter (rough rough draft) which gives an indication of what is happening.

Any thoughts on this?

Chapter 1

I couldn’t quite recall why I had been in the park, standing in that pool of light beneath the Victorian styled street lamp. It had undoubtedly been for a specific reason and a slight nagging feeling at the back of my mind insisted that it had been important. As I stared down at my corpse as it lay on the damp green grass, I realised that perhaps I had other things to worry about.

Yes, I definitely had other things to be concerned about. The memories had begun to fade and were fast becoming as ethereal as the mist that seemed to cloud my vision. I was reasonably certain that the mist hadn’t been present when I was alive.

That was such an odd thought really. I was already comparing my current situation to when I had been alive as though it were such a long time ago and not merely minutes. I wondered what had killed me.

I had been in the park for a reason, an important one in fact. I was sure of that and my outfit certainly indicated that I wanted to be taken seriously. A dark suit and tie, hair neatly brushed and with perhaps a little bit of product in it. My hand looked to be clutching something in a deathly grip and try though I might, I couldn’t open the fingers…or even touch them.

In fact if I tried to touch my remains, my hands would pass straight through them in a most disconcerting manner. No doubt it was a by product of my deathly state.

I sighed and was surprised to find that I could do so. Since I was a ghost, disembodied spirit or whatever, I was fairly sure I had no need for breath and so therefore would have no air to expel from my ghostly lungs.

My second sigh was much the same as the first and I spent several minutes experimenting with breathing in deeply before expelling the air. While I could feel no movement of breath being expelled it certainly sounded like a sigh.

It was then that I realised that I couldn’t actually feel anything. I was neither warm nor cold, hungry or thirsty. The light summers breeze that was making the leaves rustle in the nearby oak tree didn’t touch me. I couldn’t even feel the metal of the lamp post as I leant against it.

I was leant against the post though. I couldn’t feel it but I could see where my body met the post. I gave it an experimental shove and found it to be firm and unyielding to my ghostly hands. Peculiar indeed that I couldn’t pass through the post but my earthly remains were as solid as water.

Another sigh escaped me as I pondered my plight. I appeared to be a ghost of some sort and I couldn’t help but wonder if the afterlife would just be this, standing around with nothing to do.

“Hello John.” A melodic voice that seemed to ease my troubled spirit spoke softly from behind me.

“Who are you?” I asked with a small spark of curiosity as I turned to the new arrival.

“My name is Aira.” The new arrival said as I studied them in the mist.

She stood tall at nearly six feet of height and was undeniably beautiful with hazel eyes that glowed faintly from beneath waves of dark hair that hung past her shoulders. She wore a simple dress of white material that seemed appropriate for a summers evening and her feet were bare.

“You can obviously see me, are you a ghost too?” I asked.

“No.” She replied with a smile full of warmth and comfort. “I am here to escort you.”

“To where?”

“To a place of peace and comfort.” She said gently, “A place where you will spend the rest of eternity in the loving embrace of the creator of all things.”

She spoke with such conviction and the promise of bliss in every word that I almost stepped towards her as though my ghostly self longed to go with her.

“No thanks.” I said.

“No?” Aira asked as she gazed at me with those glowing eyes, head tilted to one side and a slight frown marring her perfect features.

“Yeah, no thanks. Not interested.” I said.

“You do not understand.” Aira said her tone at once full of pity and concern for my foolishness. “I am here to escort you to heaven.”

“I can’t go just yet.” I said, “Things to do here.”

“Do you truly believe you have a choice?” Aira asked.

“Well considering you haven’t just dragged me kicking and screaming to wherever, I assume it’s because I have a choice.”

“You do not understand.” Aira said with a touch of urgency, “You have one chance and one chance only to move on. If you do not, you will no longer have the protection of heaven.”

“Why would that matter? I’m dead already.” I scoffed.

“There are worse things that death.”

“Sure.” I said with a ghostly smirk.

“You mock me?” Aira asked quizzically.

“Well considering I didn’t actually believe you or your god existed, this is all kind of new to me.” I said, “Now if you excuse me, I have things to do.”

I turned away from the open mouthed woman and returned to studying my corpse. Something had killed me and I really wanted to know what. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had an incredibly important reason for being in the park.

Through the haze that surrounded me I became aware of movement and light that I soon realised belonged to an ambulance as it pulled up beside my body.

A man and woman rushed out with all manner of medical gear and knelt beside my corpse. It was clear to me that they would have little chance of reviving me, but then I did have the advantage of being a ghost which did hint strongly that I was way past the point of resuscitation.

“Am I ghost?” I asked curiously as I turned back to Aira who was watching me with a stern expression and arms crossed over her chest.

“You are a spirit, a disembodied representation of your soul.” Aira said.

“So a ghost.”

“Of sorts.”

“That’s why I couldn’t touch my body.” I mused, “Why then can I touch the lamp post?”

“You are in the Veil.” Aira replied and ignored my questioning look. “Time grows short, you must come with me.”

“Why do you care?” I asked as I turned back to the two paramedics who seemed to have come to the conclusion that I was dead.

At least I assumed that was the conclusion they had arrived at, sound much like everything else appeared muted and all I could hear when they spoke was a buzzing. It was irritatingly like an out of tune radio station, static with the occasional word that you thought you might make out if you could just listen hard enough.

“My purpose is to protect souls and escort them to their eternal rest.” Aira said with the faintest hint of annoyance.

“Protect from what?” I asked with a glance back over my shoulder to see her almost glaring at me. “Are you an angel?”

“All will be made clear when you reach heaven.” Aira said, neatly avoiding actually answering any of my questions.

“How come I get to go to heaven anyway?” I asked, “I mean I’m not a bad person, but I’m fairly sure I broke more than one of the commandments. I stole a pencil once and I didn’t wait for marriage before I had sex.”

“The creator forgives.” Aira said.

“Really? Then why is it so important for me to come with you. Shouldn’t he forgive me for not going?”

“There are rules.” Aira said with growing frustration, “If you do not follow them then you will be denied heavenly peace.”

“Maybe so, but I’m not ready yet.”

“What would you stay here for?” Aira demanded, “You have no way of affecting the world in any way, you cannot speak to those you love or touch them one last time. All you can do is watch them until they come for you.”

“Who comes for me?”

“I will ask one final time.” Aira said, ignoring my question. “Will you come with me?”

“No.” I said and suddenly found myself alone. No flash of light or flutter of angels wings, just one second there and the next gone. I was almost disappointed.

I shrugged and turned back to gazing at my remains as I tried to hear what the paramedics were saying. I wanted to know what had happened to me and I needed to know why I had been in the park.

It wasn’t long before several new cars pulled up beside the ambulance, their lights flashing and sirens wailing distantly to my ears.

The police men and women wasted no time in setting up a cordon around the area with their tape and began doing whatever it was they do with dead bodies found in parks.

Since people had a habit of walking right through me which was a singularly disconcerting experience, I moved away from my corpse and leant back against the side of the ambulance only to fall straight through it.

I climbed to my feet and swore loudly at the vehicle. The rules of the veil were apparently something I would need to learn and while I could touch some things, I couldn’t touch others.

The mist that wreathed everything appeared to be darkening and for the first time since I had found myself standing over my own corpse, a chill gripped me.

My ghostly form shivered as the chill deepened in the gathering darkness and I found myself regretting my refusal to go with Aira.

I glanced around as I became aware of a presence but unable to pinpoint exactly where it was. Someone or something was nearby, watching me. If I’d still had flesh it would have been covered in goose bumps.

My back was to the ambulance and too late I realised how stupid that was when it was as intangible as fog. The dark claws that seized me dug painfully into my arms and I let out a scream of pain and terror as I was dragged backwards through the side of the ambulance and into a place of utter darkness.

It’s Here!

Short update to let you know that the newest book (and the last) in the Killing the Dead series is here. :)

As always, I am kind of excited to see what people think and I hope you all enjoy it.

Links are:

US: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00XWTWLRQ

UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00XWTWLRQ

Short blurb that may have to be refined :

Cast out from the group Ryan finds himself facing a lonely and short life amongst the undead that are ravaging the land.

With winter storms, undead hordes and the loss of Lily and his friends, all he has left are his plans for vengeance against his enemies while keeping his friends safe. Whatever else happens, the end is fast approaching and as he knows, everything must end.

Until the next time. TTFN. Richard.

New Project Time

Well the time is almost here. Book 6 of my Killing the Dead zombie apocalypse series is almost ready to be released.

This release will mark the final chapter of this particular story and also my one year anniversary of indie publishing.

Its has been an interesting experience and I have been surprised at how much I have enjoyed the process of writing, editing and so on. It likely helped that I feel such a great amount of affection for Ryan and Lily, those two characters that have been a rather large part of my life and imagination for a year now.

I do think that my writing has improved over the year and some have commented on this as each book has been released. This is great for me, not just getting feedback which I do love, but actually improving. It gives me confidence to continue.

In this year I have given away over three thousand copies of the first book in my series which has gained thirty one reviews over its time. With little to no promotion, I am immensely happy with this and more so that thirty one people have enjoyed it enough to review the book.

My next step once the final book is released is to work on the paperback copies of each to get them out there, perhaps a compilation of the final three so that they can all be purchased at the same time and of course, promotion and marketing.

I also need to start work on my next project. While I have a few ideas and genres I would like to work with, I am not sure which will be the best for me. I have narrowed it down to the following.

A steam punk story – kind of – with the emphasis on a war between two great nations and the rise to power of a talented mage, no matter what he has to do to gain that power.

A demon tasked with taking the souls of humans caught between the powers of heaven and hell as he does something he never thought he could.

A superhero novel with a man / woman just learning to use their powers and facing the challenges of using those powers for either the heroes or villains.

A science fiction tale about humanities trek to the stars and what they find out there.

I am possibly leaning towards the steampunk type of book at the moment though no real decision has been made. Each of the books will require some world building and the decision as to whether or not to create them as standalone, series or serial formats.

Any comments and suggestions are welcomed.

Yes another update.

I am now well over half way through book 6 of my Killing the Dead series and I am immensely happy with what I have so far.

This does mean that I am on target for a late May release which will give me the chance to publish the final book exactly one year after the first which is kind of great.

Why 6 books and not more?

Well, I have seen some serials go along for umpteen books, each one needing to be purchased because you’ve invested so much time and money in the series. I have done this myself with both traditionally published series (Robert Jordan’s 13 book Wheel of Time series for example.)

Then of course there are plenty of serials on Amazon that I have begun, only to end up buying the books long after my interest has waned, simply because I have invested so much time into them.

I don’t want that with my series. Killing the Dead and the main characters, Ryan and Lily mean a great deal to me and of course I want them to mean just as much to others. I really don’t want people to just have to keep paying for books endlessly because they feel they need to get to the end.

My original intention was always to have about 6 books in the series and I think anyone who has read them, will agree that Ryan has progressed throughout the series. He has changed, perhaps for the better though I am sure that the Ryan we first met in book 1 would not recognise the man he has become by book 5.

These six books are his journey and of course, we can’t forget Lily. She was originally supposed to just be his first victim but as soon as they met, something wonderful happened and she took on a life of her own. She became Ryan’s foil, his conscience and someone he cared deeply about. The story couldn’t exist as it is now, without her.

Once book 6 is finished and out there, I will have a number of other projects to work on and to be honest, I would like to add more to the world of Ryan and Lily. I have short stories planned for each of the main characters that will explain a little more of who they are, which will be offered for free download through this website.

Then there are still the early years of Ryan as well. While those who have read the books will have a bit more detail about the man who seems to be utterly reticent to speak of his past, a full book of his days before the Zombie Apocalypse would be an experience.

So there you have it, plenty to go on and to add to that, once the final book is out I will have some more info. Until that book is finished, I personally don’t know what I will be left with. I do know that from a number of different ways I can see this ending, it will affect what happens later.

I have to say I’m really excited to find out what happens myself, which means I better get back to recording their story so they can show me.

Where we are.

I am many thousands of words into book 6. It is an amazing feeling working towards this finale and I can’t wait to write that final chapter.

That being said, what comes next?

The first season of killing the dead (6 books) will be complete. I would hope that another season is possible. Until then, what other options do I have?

My vampire story… hasn’t done well. So the urge to continue it is low.

I have several stories ready to go, Fantasy, Scifi, Horror and whatever else. The question is which do I go for?

The fantasy story appeals greatly, it has all the elements I desire waiting there in the wings, just a shed load of world building required before starting it.

Then we have the sci-fi. I could wing some of the stuff and not go in to too great detail about others, but again, I would need to research a lot before doing that.

Horror is ready to go, just need to decide on first or third person perspective.

So there we have it, the amount of choice is almost enough to stifle me. I could do any of a number of projects including the second season of Killing the Dead, the question of course being, what do people want?