David Barron's Blog, page 7
September 15, 2011
"UFO-2" (XCOM Friday)
Part I: "Live or Die"
(continued)
I-2
"UFO-2"
I had just got to sleep when the alarm blared. Flashing red lights poked at my closed-eye vision, I groaned, and a friendly female computer voice intoned: "Warning, warning: UFO detected." Some peppy music started playing, and that was the last straw. I leapt out of the cot--the prison bed had been more comfortable!--and shouted at the first figure my sleep-deprived eyes made out.
"Whoa, Lester," the man said. It was Robert Reynolds. I ran a hand across my eyes, and saw my erstwhile cell mate raising his hands in mock surrender.
"Rise and shine," said Armand, his cheerful Gallic accent clashing with his kicking the giant Russian out of bed. "Vladimir, we've got things to kill."
"We do?" I said over my shoulder. I'd spotted Masanori yelling in his Asian gibberish at the rest of the guys. "What's going on?" I asked. One of these hours I was going to get an answer to that question.
But not this hour. The lights went out and the door to the cramped room opened, and we ran toward the light and into a long corridor. The doors leading off were sealed, so we were herded out into a hanger. A craft waited for us, the entry ramp open for us.
"Looks like a C-150, smaller," said Robert.
"No," shouted Masanori, sounding oddly angry. "That a Skylane'jah."
"What the fu--"
"Skyranger, you dumbass," I said, figuring it out. "Prototype. Supersonic."
"UFO Detected," intoned the computer lady. "If you would--" here an angry male voice took over, growling "--get in the damn ship, you sons of bitch assho--" the computer lady came back "--please." We piled in, finding uncomfortable seats along the hull.
"We get weapons now?" Vladimir shouted at the ceiling.
"Have a nice flight," said the computer lady, as the door closed and the ship took off.
"I guess not," said Armand, buckling himself in, then it was too loud to talk for a couple minutes while the transport got up to speed.
"Wonder where we're going?" I asked as the plane hit cruising speed, and for once I got an answer.
"You're intercepting a UFO, gentlemen. UFO-2, to be precise." It was the asshole from the video, but this one was live, albeit on a screen at the front of the plane. Some in-flight movie. "One of our fighters was shadowing it and we were lucky enough to spot where it set down. You are to go secure the area and the enemy craft itself."
"Enemy? Aliens?" scoffed Armand. "That's ridiculous."
"Yes," said the man evenly, steepling his fingers. "It's night. They'll know you're coming once you land, so move in fast before they can get back to their craft. Capture that craft, gentlemen."
"Is that all?" I asked, sarcastic in my terror.
He favored me with a sardonic look. "Bring an alien back alive. That part of the mission should take priority over your own lives. You'll be landing in 5. Arm yourselves." The screen blanked, and we heard the click of the overhead lockers unlocking. We scrambled to open them as the plane slowed, drawing out some M16s and, to Vladimir's delight, a massive belt-fed auto-cannon.
"That mine," he said, picking it up and slapping one of the heavy clips in. I noted the red warning: High Explosive, but his nod of satisfaction told me that he'd seen it already. He grinned a toothy grin as the plane set down.
"Yes, you 'strong like bear'," said Armand, making a fair mockery of the Russian's accent. The man growled, but Armand only smiled, reaching up to grab a Beretta pistol out of a locker. "Bring it, tough guy," he said, slipping a spare clip in the pocket of his jumpsuit.
The bay door opened, and the front guys rolled out into the dark forest. I spotted an unopened locker and put my rifle down to pop it open. "Stun rods here," I shouted, and tossed one each of the long sticks to Armand and Robert, then slipped it across my back, out of the way.
We must have looked ridiculous, hustling out of the ship with the tall blue poles poking above our heads, but before I could think on that, the damp night was blasted apart by rifle fire. One of the guys was hit, his arm seared off at the shoulder, and a green fire licking up from the wound and into his face as he staggered away to fall into a clump of bushes. Then I heard a horrible groan somewhere in the forest to the right. "Stop fie'," shouted Masanori, motioning me and Armand to investigate. It was as good an order as any, so Vladimir set himself up to cover us while Masanori yelled and pushed the rest of the guys into a search pattern.
Armand had sprinted ahead. Man, that guy could move. "Shot a kid, looks like," he said, and I hustled on up to shine my rifle-light on the tiny grey corpse. The giant eyes stared back at me out of a big round head, and I saw the alien chest expanding and contracting, sucking at what looked like it had been a rebreather before it was shattered by the gunfire that gutshot the creature. "Huh," said Armand. "I was mistaken." Then he put his pistol to the thing's head and pulled the trigger.
"Aren't we supposed to take one alive?"
"Not that one," shrugged Armand as Vladimir came up. I abruptly realized that the deep background thrumming couldn't be the Skyranger's engines, and was just starting to try to figure out where it was coming from when a new eruption of gunfire pretty much gave me the answer. "Shall we join them?"
"Da," said Vladimir, breaking into a hustle after Armand. I followed, hearing two simultaneous screams as we approached. Two more guys down. Then we ran across Masanori, crouched behind a tree, a burned corpse--that plasma was like contained napalm--smoking next to him, and the small Asian himself spraying fire as fast the three-round burst setting would allow. The man was laughing his ass off, and not aiming for shit.
"You're drawing their fi--"
And so he was, as a hail of plasma sent me diving for the dirt. "There's only one!" I heard Armand shout, then I heard the click as Masanori's rifle ran out of ammunition.
"Back ship!" he shouted, scrambling back. "Mo' ammo!" We ignored him.
Armand dropped his pistol next to me, and I saw he was holding his stun rod. I arched an eyebrow, and he nodded, grinning. He seemed to be having a wonderful time. "Got it. We'll cover you, Armand," I shouted over the renewed hail of plasma. He was off like a shot into the dark, and I laid down suppressing fire. Vladimir was about to pop off an explosive shot when we both saw a blue spark and then Armand whooped a French curse of triumph.
I heard Robert shouting in the distance. "Found a ship, guys! Get the hell over here!" We passed Armand kneeling over another of the big-head child aliens and I returned his pistol, then me and Vladimir could see the grey metal of the ship ahead, and there was Robert Reynolds and another guy. "Here's a door."
"Open, shoot in?" offered Vladimir.
"No. We've got to take the thing intact," I said. "The door opens. Stack up," I shouted at the other two, and we pressed ourselves on the side while Vladimir covered the surroundings. I ran my rifle-light along the smooth surface until it illuminated a projection. I reached out my hand out: "Ready? One, two--" I popped it open and the curved panel slid down. "Go go go."
Oh, the first guy was splattered six ways to beyond, but me and Robert didn't take time to grieve, we just rolled in and sprayed the interior of that ship down with bullets. The other two aliens didn't stand a chance. "You guys captured one back there, right?" said Robert. He sounded so concerned that I cracked up, putting my rifle down and staggering back outside and laughing out loud. Vladimir joined in, slapping me on the back.
That's how the Army clean-up guys found us.
"Congratulations, gentlemen," that bastard on the screen had said to us happy five on the flight back. "We didn't have to nuke you." I'm really beginning to hate that guy, I thought to myself. The Army, which had apparently been on perimeter to see if we sucked and died before they called in the nukes, had taken our weapons away.
Once we'd landed, some lab coats had got me and Vladimir to drag the captured alien to a containment facility on base, at which point Armand had been taken aside by another set of lab coats for a private debriefing and Vladimir had wandered off somewhere to do whatever it was that giant Russians do when stuck in an undisclosed location.
That left me staring at the alien, sans rebreather, floating in a reinforced glass tank full of some kind of jelly. I could see it breathing, and I could see it watching me. What was it thinking? Kill all humans, aliens rule, blow up their shit, Earth Sucks. I put a hand on the glass, and the thought popped into my head: 'sucks to be me. I'm stuck in a tank.'
"You and me both, pal," I muttered. Then: "Sucks to be us."
Next Friday -- I-3 "UFO-3"
These works of X-COM fiction are purely for my own amusement. X-COM is an intellectual property of Take Two Interactive Software, Inc. (Trademark source). If same (or your representatives) wants to yell at me, sue me, or hire me to write legitimate works of X-COM fiction at market rates, please contact me at davidalbarron [at] gmail [dot] com first. We'll work it out to your satisfaction, I promise.
Available Stories
September 13, 2011
Tisroc Spring
Presenting the newest release by David Barron and H2NH, the first novel in the ongoing Tisroc series...
Tisroc Spring
Amazon.com ; Amazon UK ; Amazon Germany
A technological thriller with a double shot of humor and romance: Tisroc Spring, a science fiction novel by David Barron. This novel is a convenient collection of the first three Tisroc short books in a discounted package, representing the first third of the thrilling Tisroc series!
We're just babies, making up a game...
Play-world
Controlling drones mapping the surface of a forgotten Earth is a pretty sweet gig, especially since Ernie Centrifuge can work from the comfort of his computer room on the floating city of Megalopolis...but when he takes a job to survey a mysterious island, he finds himself entangled in a deadly competition for a lost and priceless treasure! With the help of his sister (a psion), her husband (a pilot), and a sarcastic lady he meets in a car accident (a police inspector), Ernie races to find out who's who in a world where no one really knows what's what.
May you live forever...
To roll anyway
Ernie Centrifuge just wants to relax with his girlfriend (a police inspector) and play with his survey drones, but when a Senator is assassinated by laser, Ernie decides that the floating city isn't as relaxing as he would have hoped. When his sister (a psion) brings in an orphan girl who found a tantalizing map, Ernie decides to descend to the surface of a forgotten Earth. But what has he left behind on Megalopolis?
What do you call soon?
The spell of it
The New Farms on the surface of a forgotten Earth promise to feed overcrowded Megalopolis, but when two workers are killed, Inspector Benji Prajactatorix has her suspicions. She takes her boyfriend (a tech) along to check out a mysterious organic spaceship, but that leaves his sister (a psion) and her intended (a politician) still on the floating city to contend with a food shortage on the eve of Election Day.
...and once you've enjoyed this novel, anticipate the fourth short book in the Tisroc series: A little astronomy.
What?
A convenient collection of three science fiction short books (Play-world, To roll anyway, and The spell of it) and cheap (a mere $6.99), too! Buy it now, then come back. [time passes] OK, let's move on...
Why?
The spell of it has a great ending that's a good cut-off for a novel, and the next two Tisroc short books are going to be more of a 'back-to-back' experience, so I feel they should stand alone as a novel. With the final three short books collected, there's a trilogy, which may prove more convenient in print than eight short books. (More on that as H2NH ramps up to POD in 2012.)
When?
You can find more info and release dates in the H2NH Publication Schedule, if you're interested.
Where?
Right now Tisroc Spring is available "exclusively" at Amazon for Kindle (USA, UK, Germany), because Smashwords formatting hates books (see my open letter on that issue). I hope presently to make this, and the rest of my books, available on B&N and Kobo. (If you purchase the MOBI file from Amazon and would prefer the identically formatted EPUB file, e-mail me and we can probably work that out.)
How?
Tisroc Spring took me seventy-five hours to write, edit, copy-edit, format, and upload. It will probably take you between six to eight hours to read. It being a book, you are even allowed to read it again! (This is known as a 'special feature') Indeed, I encourage you so to do, thus to enjoy my delicious prose and witty dialogue again after your first read, when you were undoubtedly too busy on the edge of your seat, flipping pages frantically to see what happens next in my engrossing plot. Yes, yes.
Who?
So, let's call it twelve hours of solid entertainment total, which I'd say is fair for $6.99. I make a little under five bucks for each book I sell, so I need a little over fifteen hundred of you to buy this book so I can pay myself a living wage and buy some celebratory booze. My target audience being 'all English readers with Kindles world-wide' and my timeframe being five years, I'm confident I can manage (at least) that.
Note to the dedicated few who made it all the way down here: If you promise to read Tisroc Spring and do a couple-paragraph review on Amazon and/or another review site and/or a blog within a reasonable time frame, I'll send you a review copy. Contact me at DavidalBarron [at] gmail [dot] com. I'll link to it, but I can't promise I'll actually bother to read the review. No offense. I'm too busy writing new stuff to read reviews of old stuff (unless they're funny).
Next up from H2NH Publishing is Jillian Nice' Horror short book ed. (Release: early October)
feel free to commentAvailable Stories
Tisroc Spring
Amazon.com ; Amazon UK ; Amazon Germany
A technological thriller with a double shot of humor and romance: Tisroc Spring, a science fiction novel by David Barron. This novel is a convenient collection of the first three Tisroc short books in a discounted package, representing the first third of the thrilling Tisroc series!
We're just babies, making up a game...
Play-world
Controlling drones mapping the surface of a forgotten Earth is a pretty sweet gig, especially since Ernie Centrifuge can work from the comfort of his computer room on the floating city of Megalopolis...but when he takes a job to survey a mysterious island, he finds himself entangled in a deadly competition for a lost and priceless treasure! With the help of his sister (a psion), her husband (a pilot), and a sarcastic lady he meets in a car accident (a police inspector), Ernie races to find out who's who in a world where no one really knows what's what.
May you live forever...
To roll anyway
Ernie Centrifuge just wants to relax with his girlfriend (a police inspector) and play with his survey drones, but when a Senator is assassinated by laser, Ernie decides that the floating city isn't as relaxing as he would have hoped. When his sister (a psion) brings in an orphan girl who found a tantalizing map, Ernie decides to descend to the surface of a forgotten Earth. But what has he left behind on Megalopolis?
What do you call soon?
The spell of it
The New Farms on the surface of a forgotten Earth promise to feed overcrowded Megalopolis, but when two workers are killed, Inspector Benji Prajactatorix has her suspicions. She takes her boyfriend (a tech) along to check out a mysterious organic spaceship, but that leaves his sister (a psion) and her intended (a politician) still on the floating city to contend with a food shortage on the eve of Election Day.
...and once you've enjoyed this novel, anticipate the fourth short book in the Tisroc series: A little astronomy.
What?
A convenient collection of three science fiction short books (Play-world, To roll anyway, and The spell of it) and cheap (a mere $6.99), too! Buy it now, then come back. [time passes] OK, let's move on...
Why?
The spell of it has a great ending that's a good cut-off for a novel, and the next two Tisroc short books are going to be more of a 'back-to-back' experience, so I feel they should stand alone as a novel. With the final three short books collected, there's a trilogy, which may prove more convenient in print than eight short books. (More on that as H2NH ramps up to POD in 2012.)
When?
You can find more info and release dates in the H2NH Publication Schedule, if you're interested.
Where?
Right now Tisroc Spring is available "exclusively" at Amazon for Kindle (USA, UK, Germany), because Smashwords formatting hates books (see my open letter on that issue). I hope presently to make this, and the rest of my books, available on B&N and Kobo. (If you purchase the MOBI file from Amazon and would prefer the identically formatted EPUB file, e-mail me and we can probably work that out.)
How?
Tisroc Spring took me seventy-five hours to write, edit, copy-edit, format, and upload. It will probably take you between six to eight hours to read. It being a book, you are even allowed to read it again! (This is known as a 'special feature') Indeed, I encourage you so to do, thus to enjoy my delicious prose and witty dialogue again after your first read, when you were undoubtedly too busy on the edge of your seat, flipping pages frantically to see what happens next in my engrossing plot. Yes, yes.
Who?
So, let's call it twelve hours of solid entertainment total, which I'd say is fair for $6.99. I make a little under five bucks for each book I sell, so I need a little over fifteen hundred of you to buy this book so I can pay myself a living wage and buy some celebratory booze. My target audience being 'all English readers with Kindles world-wide' and my timeframe being five years, I'm confident I can manage (at least) that.
Note to the dedicated few who made it all the way down here: If you promise to read Tisroc Spring and do a couple-paragraph review on Amazon and/or another review site and/or a blog within a reasonable time frame, I'll send you a review copy. Contact me at DavidalBarron [at] gmail [dot] com. I'll link to it, but I can't promise I'll actually bother to read the review. No offense. I'm too busy writing new stuff to read reviews of old stuff (unless they're funny).
Next up from H2NH Publishing is Jillian Nice' Horror short book ed. (Release: early October)
feel free to commentAvailable Stories
September 7, 2011
"Fort Nowhere" (XCOM Friday)
Part I: "Live or Die"
I-1
"Fort Nowhere"
"Live or die, Motherf---er!"
The shout woke me up, my cell door opened and a burly black man rushed into my room carrying a riot club. Before I could comprehend the question, he had bashed me on the head, sending me out of my bed and on the floor. I looked up and saw a white guy in the door, holding a stun rod in case I got rowdy. Before I could consider that option further, the black man smashed the stick down on my arm and repeated the question.
"I have a choice?" I said, rolling over to try to stand up. It was answering a question with a question, but I wasn't in Leavenworth Prison for my health. As far as I knew I was being executed at the end of the week. My answer was the man bringing the club back up, but I was ready, dodging to let the blow glance off me. "What the hell?"
"Live or die?" the white guy said, who seemed to be enjoying himself a little too much. I heard a shout from the cell across the way, but then my focus went back to the black guy. He was winding up again.
"Live, dammit!" I shouted, crossing my arms into a V to try to catch the club. Looking back, it probably wouldn't have worked. It's a good thing he didn't follow through.
"Great!" said the white guy. "You're Lester Thompson, right?" he asked, as I stood up to face him.
"Yeah?" I said, hearing the prisoner across the hall shout 'Live!'. "What's going--"
A black bag was suddenly over my head, and before I could splutter out a protest..."That's great!" he said.
Then I felt the stun rod and even the darkness went dark.
I woke up in what at first I took to be a drunk tank, surrounded by men in a variety of prison uniforms but a similar state of groggy inattention. "Lester?" I heard, and sat up. I recognized the voice, and put it with the face, an ultra-Caucasian: the prisoner across the hall.
"Who wants to know?"
He held both his hands up, empty. "Bob does."
"Bob's you?"
"Robert Reynolds," he said. "Across the hall."
"Not anymore," I said, standing up. I did a quick count: eight guys in a small cage. This could be trouble. "You heard my name?"
"Right before they knocked me out."
"What's going on?"
"Hell if I know."
I looked around for somebody who looked like he knew what was going on and spotted an Asian guy leaning on a corner wall. "Hey, you!"
"Masanori," he said.
"What? What's going on?"
He shrugged, thin-shouldered but muscled. "Don' understanh," he said, in what I decided was a Japanese accent.
"Don't understand English, or don't understand what's going on?"
"I'm guessing both," this, accompanied with a bark of a laugh, from a wiry suntanned guy with a European accent. "Armand," he said, pointing at himself. "I heard your name, Les."
I looked past him and at the massive Russian leaning against the wall. The man sneered back. "Who's he?" Everybody was giving him plenty of space.
"Vladimir," said Armand. "Be friendly." The man snarled. "He has to get to know you," shrugged Armand, turning back.
"So," started Robert. "What's going--"
Before he could finish the question, a section of one wall slid across to reveal a screen. It flicked on and a clerkish man appeared, sitting at a desk. A UN blue flag with an X above the logo was stretched across the wall behind him. He folded his hands. "You are here because you are cheap. If you die, no loss. If you live, good for you. Eat."
I realized I was hungry. Another section of the wall opened to reveal eight bowls of soupy porridge. I discovered I was that hungry. The clerk waited, fingers tapping the desk in inpatience, while each man picked up a bowl and stopped complaining long enough to start eating.
"If you survive, you will get better food. More freedom around the base. Entertainment. If you continue to survive: Well," the man paused, steepling his fingers. "In that unlikely event, a new life will be arranged for you. At the end of this."
I finished my gruel and tossed the bowl on the ground. "And what is this!" I shouted.
"I'm sure you're asking, 'what is this?'," the clerk went on. "This," he nodded toward the flag "is XCOM, and for what we do, you are all Rookies. Welcome to Fort Nowhere, gentlemen. Sleep well." The feed cut off, replaced on the screen by the line
EARTH THANKS YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE
As the wall panel slid back across, it covered everything but EARTH.
And then even that was gone.
Next Friday -- I-2 "UFO-2"
These works of X-COM fiction are purely for my own amusement. X-COM is an intellectual property of Take Two Interactive Software, Inc. (Trademark source). If same (or your representatives) wants to yell at me, sue me, or hire me to write legitimate works of X-COM fiction at market rates, please contact me at davidalbarron [at] gmail [dot] com first. We'll work it out to your satisfaction, I promise.
feel free to commentAvailable Stories
August 30, 2011
Nom de Plume, Ruse De Guerre
You may have noticed a certain nomenclatoral accretence hereabouts, and it's for three reasons...to describe which I have created, for my own amusement, entirely unnecessary neologisms:
Reason the First (1st): Prolifical [pro'lif'eh'cull]
I seem to have developed into the kind of writer who writes a lot. Good for me. I need pen names in quantity as unto the towels that soak up the defrost of the unplugged refrigerator of pulp, to sop up the torrent of words before they cause water damage to the overstretched tile of this metaphor. Mostly, I just don't want to release something in one name more than once a month. I'm not going to sneak around to avoid that, and minimal research by an intrigued reader will reveal my Horrible Secret, but I think letting a name soak in the ole' marketplace for a bit can't hurt, esp. when H2NH starts doing serious promotion.
Reason the Second (2nd): Genrec [j'on'wruh'k]
I've already staked a claim in the gold fields of Science Fantasy Romance...and loving it. But even that super-genre has certain restrictions. David Barron on a book says, to folks concerned with such things, that that book will stay in and around the 'PG-13' level, avoiding heavy Politics, hard Sex, and brutal Violence and be a suitable gift for just about anybody who can brave the erudition and navigate the labyrinthine sentences.
That, and not including All That is just best practices to avoid distractions from that big ball of Science & Fantasy & Romance that's being tossed around. But, as that's hardly the only orb I'm juggling in the Circus of the Mind, and I want to let the clowns dance: I need to clearly label everything. A fine set of appropriate pen names should conspire with covers and blurbs to ensure that nobody who enjoys one of my books is too shocked by the first chapters of the next book of mine they pick up. After that, you're on your own.
Reason the Third (3rd): Conveniencen [cahn'veenyin'sen]
It's just easier to organize things by themes. That's Science, that is. Not to mention avoidenconfusinsheizen. So I won't.
...
ANYWHO, since I like making characters, I've taken the liberty of splitting myself up into some archetypal voices. Don't worry, it didn't hurt. Much.
Introductions all 'round --
David Barron
writes Science Fantasy Romance, including "At the Mountains of Malapert", the ongoing Tisroc octology and the upcoming Dragon Aces 'ivlogy'.
A writer who, by all accounts, is having a wonderful time doing what he loves.
Dave Frost
writes Mystery/Crime, including the upcoming Hideki Oh mysteries and short stories.
A political scientist who specializes (and lives and works several somewheres) in Asia. He takes a rather dim view of Humanity in general, entering our lacklustre efforts to raze the Hobbesian jungle in which we live as evidence. Tends to be rather depressed.
Clear Label: may contain Politics.
Jillian Nice
writes Horror, including the upcoming Horror from the Deep trilogy and several upcoming stand-alone books.
A cheerful naturalist who, between chasing butterflies and estimating the age of rocks, tells whimsical tales of depraved sex, abrupt dismemberment, lingering disease and inevitable death in a framework of utter pointlessness. Seems to be OK with that.
Clear Label: may contain Sex, Violence.
Spider Frostwrites Pulp Literature set in and around Thailand, including the upcoming "Mr. and Mrs. Spider Frost" and other 'cassava picaresques'* (and some short stories in a language you can't read.)Spider Frost is a polyglot pulp writer and frequent drunk who lives in Thailand with his hot-tempered spouse Tammy Toom. He writes quasi-literary epics about their madcap adventures in and around Southeast Asia, as well as concocting other quick-dry masses of plot holes and spelling errors. In the finest traditions of pulp fiction.
/*For reference, a 'cassava picaresque' is the cocktail you get if you mix the Alan stories in "The Language of Ice Cubes" with my short story "Drugs are Legal, People Ain't" and add a pinch of Nick and Nora Charles-style antics to taste./
Spider is my Thai nickname, so I'd already repurposed it as a distinctive, easier-to-pronounce regional pseudonym (a la 'Monkey Punch'). The other names were concocted for effect and convenience along a scheme which I'm sure you could puzzle out if you were sufficiently obsessed, but it wouldn't really be all that interesting. They match the genre, and I can remember them. That's enough for me. At some point I'll commission four 'pen name portraits' to stick in the back of books and use in promotions and general communications where confusion could be broached. Such as...er...this article. Now.
No time! If you'll excuse us, we have twenty books to write.
feel free to commentAvailable Stories
Reason the First (1st): Prolifical [pro'lif'eh'cull]
I seem to have developed into the kind of writer who writes a lot. Good for me. I need pen names in quantity as unto the towels that soak up the defrost of the unplugged refrigerator of pulp, to sop up the torrent of words before they cause water damage to the overstretched tile of this metaphor. Mostly, I just don't want to release something in one name more than once a month. I'm not going to sneak around to avoid that, and minimal research by an intrigued reader will reveal my Horrible Secret, but I think letting a name soak in the ole' marketplace for a bit can't hurt, esp. when H2NH starts doing serious promotion.
Reason the Second (2nd): Genrec [j'on'wruh'k]
I've already staked a claim in the gold fields of Science Fantasy Romance...and loving it. But even that super-genre has certain restrictions. David Barron on a book says, to folks concerned with such things, that that book will stay in and around the 'PG-13' level, avoiding heavy Politics, hard Sex, and brutal Violence and be a suitable gift for just about anybody who can brave the erudition and navigate the labyrinthine sentences.
That, and not including All That is just best practices to avoid distractions from that big ball of Science & Fantasy & Romance that's being tossed around. But, as that's hardly the only orb I'm juggling in the Circus of the Mind, and I want to let the clowns dance: I need to clearly label everything. A fine set of appropriate pen names should conspire with covers and blurbs to ensure that nobody who enjoys one of my books is too shocked by the first chapters of the next book of mine they pick up. After that, you're on your own.
Reason the Third (3rd): Conveniencen [cahn'veenyin'sen]
It's just easier to organize things by themes. That's Science, that is. Not to mention avoidenconfusinsheizen. So I won't.
...
ANYWHO, since I like making characters, I've taken the liberty of splitting myself up into some archetypal voices. Don't worry, it didn't hurt. Much.
Introductions all 'round --
David Barron
writes Science Fantasy Romance, including "At the Mountains of Malapert", the ongoing Tisroc octology and the upcoming Dragon Aces 'ivlogy'.
A writer who, by all accounts, is having a wonderful time doing what he loves.
Dave Frost
writes Mystery/Crime, including the upcoming Hideki Oh mysteries and short stories.
A political scientist who specializes (and lives and works several somewheres) in Asia. He takes a rather dim view of Humanity in general, entering our lacklustre efforts to raze the Hobbesian jungle in which we live as evidence. Tends to be rather depressed.
Clear Label: may contain Politics.
Jillian Nice
writes Horror, including the upcoming Horror from the Deep trilogy and several upcoming stand-alone books.
A cheerful naturalist who, between chasing butterflies and estimating the age of rocks, tells whimsical tales of depraved sex, abrupt dismemberment, lingering disease and inevitable death in a framework of utter pointlessness. Seems to be OK with that.
Clear Label: may contain Sex, Violence.
Spider Frostwrites Pulp Literature set in and around Thailand, including the upcoming "Mr. and Mrs. Spider Frost" and other 'cassava picaresques'* (and some short stories in a language you can't read.)Spider Frost is a polyglot pulp writer and frequent drunk who lives in Thailand with his hot-tempered spouse Tammy Toom. He writes quasi-literary epics about their madcap adventures in and around Southeast Asia, as well as concocting other quick-dry masses of plot holes and spelling errors. In the finest traditions of pulp fiction.
/*For reference, a 'cassava picaresque' is the cocktail you get if you mix the Alan stories in "The Language of Ice Cubes" with my short story "Drugs are Legal, People Ain't" and add a pinch of Nick and Nora Charles-style antics to taste./
Spider is my Thai nickname, so I'd already repurposed it as a distinctive, easier-to-pronounce regional pseudonym (a la 'Monkey Punch'). The other names were concocted for effect and convenience along a scheme which I'm sure you could puzzle out if you were sufficiently obsessed, but it wouldn't really be all that interesting. They match the genre, and I can remember them. That's enough for me. At some point I'll commission four 'pen name portraits' to stick in the back of books and use in promotions and general communications where confusion could be broached. Such as...er...this article. Now.
No time! If you'll excuse us, we have twenty books to write.
feel free to commentAvailable Stories
August 26, 2011
The spell of it
Presenting the next short book in the Tisroc series "The spell of it". These just keep getting better and better the more of them I write:
What do you call soon?
The New Farms on the surface of a forgotten Earth promise to feed overcrowded Megalopolis, but when two workers are killed, Inspector Benji Prajactatorix has her suspicions. She takes her boyfriend (a tech) along to check out a mysterious organic spaceship, but that leaves his sister (a psion) and her intended (a politician) still on the floating city to contend with a food shortage on the eve of Election Day.
A technological thriller with a double shot of humor and romance: The spell of it, a science fiction short novel by David Barron.
Available Now! $2.99 @ Kindle , Smashwords , etc.
Why?I'm writing the kind of series I want to read. I'm busy, I don't have time to slog through a series of long books for an uncertain pay-off. When I read a book, I want it to be (c) tightly plotted--that is to say, no filler, a driving plot--(b) self-contained--a story begins and ends between the covers--and (a) fun. The two ways to go about that are (1) a stand-alone book or (2) a series of short books, each with a story that stands on its own within the series arc. This Tisroc series fits (2) perfectly. ...I'll write (1) later.
What?What you'll get for your $2.99 is a great story with some fun characters that'll take most of you around three hours to read front-to-back. I'll just point out that that's about a buck an hour, and I'll guarantee you'll read it again, which is more than I can say for the cola and candy bar you'd have blown the money on otherwise. As I said, these Tisroc short books are self-contained story-wise, so you could theoretically read them in any order without worrying about the over-arching plot, but I'd suggest that, once you've enjoyed one of them, you start from the beginning and enjoy the character development. That's your call.
And?This book took me about 25 hours to write, format, and make available, and I get a little over two bucks for every book that sells. That means I need 120 people to buy it so I'm making at least $10 an hour here, pay for the electricity, beer, wear and tear on keyboards, flowers for neglected girlfriends, what-have-you. After that it's profit. (If you're thinking: "But, Dave, $10/hour seems rather low pay!", remember that a good beer around here costs two bits. I'll be fine. Also, don't call me Dave, that's just weird.)
But?That's not really that many people, considering my target audience is 'the English-reading population of Earth'.
So?I'm not too concerned. Buy it, lend it to your friends if you want. It's a book. (Kindle and others have some form of 'Book Lending', Smashwords lets you get the file.) I can't count the number of great books I've bought again to re-read after I've borrowed a copy, and it's not like this is my only book. Just don't go putting it on Demonoid, that's poor sportsmanship. Also, the ghosts of writers past will haunt you in your sleep, making spooky typewriter noises. Possibly.
Anyways:back to writingTisroc IV "An astronomy lesson" comes out on or before September 13, 2011
feel free to commentAvailable Stories
What do you call soon?
The New Farms on the surface of a forgotten Earth promise to feed overcrowded Megalopolis, but when two workers are killed, Inspector Benji Prajactatorix has her suspicions. She takes her boyfriend (a tech) along to check out a mysterious organic spaceship, but that leaves his sister (a psion) and her intended (a politician) still on the floating city to contend with a food shortage on the eve of Election Day.
A technological thriller with a double shot of humor and romance: The spell of it, a science fiction short novel by David Barron.
Available Now! $2.99 @ Kindle , Smashwords , etc.
Why?I'm writing the kind of series I want to read. I'm busy, I don't have time to slog through a series of long books for an uncertain pay-off. When I read a book, I want it to be (c) tightly plotted--that is to say, no filler, a driving plot--(b) self-contained--a story begins and ends between the covers--and (a) fun. The two ways to go about that are (1) a stand-alone book or (2) a series of short books, each with a story that stands on its own within the series arc. This Tisroc series fits (2) perfectly. ...I'll write (1) later.
What?What you'll get for your $2.99 is a great story with some fun characters that'll take most of you around three hours to read front-to-back. I'll just point out that that's about a buck an hour, and I'll guarantee you'll read it again, which is more than I can say for the cola and candy bar you'd have blown the money on otherwise. As I said, these Tisroc short books are self-contained story-wise, so you could theoretically read them in any order without worrying about the over-arching plot, but I'd suggest that, once you've enjoyed one of them, you start from the beginning and enjoy the character development. That's your call.
And?This book took me about 25 hours to write, format, and make available, and I get a little over two bucks for every book that sells. That means I need 120 people to buy it so I'm making at least $10 an hour here, pay for the electricity, beer, wear and tear on keyboards, flowers for neglected girlfriends, what-have-you. After that it's profit. (If you're thinking: "But, Dave, $10/hour seems rather low pay!", remember that a good beer around here costs two bits. I'll be fine. Also, don't call me Dave, that's just weird.)
But?That's not really that many people, considering my target audience is 'the English-reading population of Earth'.
So?I'm not too concerned. Buy it, lend it to your friends if you want. It's a book. (Kindle and others have some form of 'Book Lending', Smashwords lets you get the file.) I can't count the number of great books I've bought again to re-read after I've borrowed a copy, and it's not like this is my only book. Just don't go putting it on Demonoid, that's poor sportsmanship. Also, the ghosts of writers past will haunt you in your sleep, making spooky typewriter noises. Possibly.
Anyways:back to writingTisroc IV "An astronomy lesson" comes out on or before September 13, 2011
feel free to commentAvailable Stories
August 16, 2011
The 5 Things I Need to Do to Become a Better Writer (and Person)
I've got a pretty good handle on What to do moving forward in this writing career o' mine (Summary: 'Write more, Publish it'). It's time to figure out How to do all that. Reflection turns up this annoying fact: The only thing holding me back is me. So what's wrong with me? I look in the mirror, and I see a cool, confident guy with a smart, sexy girlfriend and an...interesting life carved out from the terrors of the jungle. Perfect in every way, you say? Well, you're probably right...
Just hypothetically, then: five Dynamic Action Plans that would make the total David Barron Experience(tm) better, and thus put the H2NH Publishing train on a well-oiled track to Successtown.
Population: Me
Stop Drinking (Except Socially)I'm not Hemingway (read: I'm not a depressed tropical alcoholic), as evidenced by the fact that the domestic beer here is so cheap that I could, if I were so inclined, be perpetually drunk from dawn to dusk with no major financial hassle. Considering that the domestic whiskey and rum (not to mention the moonshine...) is cheaper still, if I were an alcoholic, you'd know it. And I'd probably have been dead or delivered (THAT'S A PUN) a couple years ago.
The main annoyance is that I'll drink beer just because I have nothing else interesting to do (kind of like people who eat when they're bored) instead of when I'm with friends or when I have made a meal worthy of alcoholic accompaniment. It's lame, because I'm essentially spending money to get fat and, possibly, dehydrated (the bane of the tropical drunk) without any particular upside. It even reduces my writing ability except in very special circumstances which I'll explore in a later article because I'm trying to keep from accidentally sounding like an alcoholic in this one.
I might be failing.
The only real strategies I've employed thus far have been willpower (weakened by boredom), going to the store with less money than I'd need to buy beer (effective, but annoying), and not drinking unless it's raining.
Since around these parts they have an entire season devoted to rain (called "The Rainy Season"), a slightly less stupid strategy for the future will be only to drink when somebody else is drinking with me. Since my girlfriend doesn't drink (to keep her girlish figure), that should cut out most of my casual drinking. And if it doesn't, it means I suddenly have more friends nearby. Either way, it's a win. We'll see how it goes.
This will be the only 'health' change, because aside from beer, the occassional Coca-Cola, and once-a-month vegetarian delivery pizza, I eat ridiculously healthy: Fresh fish, forest chicken, and piles of vegetables, fruits, and whole grains. Combined with my EXTREME Pedestrian(tm) lifestyle, the only thing keeping these extra five to ten pounds on is Mr. Booze.
Delicious booze. With squirrel.
Dress Better (All The Time)When I first came to Asia, I had a full wardrobe of suits and casualwear, everything fit and I was lookin' sharp. But the USA to Asia Diet Plan and the rigors of navigating the jungles (urban and otherwise) have reduced me to a svelte jungle lord and my wardrobe to a pathetic shell of tattered bum-wear. I've supplemented it with brightly colored shirts to distract people from the fact that everything I own is two sizes too big, but I've got to get it together.
You heard me. I'm going Mad Men on my sadsack self.
If I don't dress professional, I don't feel professional. I'm a middle-class fellow with many and more rolls of quarters to my name, and I'm a writer, so I should probably look good in photographs with famous people such as myself. I at least shouldn't be wearing the same shoes every day. Also, learn to shave well again, even if it's fun to be one of the only guys nearby who can grow out stubble overnight. I need me some smart suits, and it'll serve a double purpose of protecting my arms from skin cancer. The obvious solution is to find a tailor and lavish him with cash until he produces a full wardrobe to my specifications and the needs of the tropics.
Write Four Hours a Day (At Least)Discussed here
The Word Count Unicorn
Save Money (Not Spend It)As previously indicated, I am entirely without flaw, but if I have one pecadillo, it's that I don't think about money. (What? You talk about money ALL the time.) To clarify, I only think about how to make money, and I'm quite good at that...but not at what to do with it afterwards. Because I don't care. It is not in my nature to care about money, I'll just give it away, or, failing a semi-worthy cause, spend it like a drunken sailor (without the syphillis).
Also, I'll buy books. Lots of books. Which, I suppose, could be called a 'business expense' with enough sneakiness. I recently picked up Kristine Kathryn Rusch's "The Freelancer's Survival Guide" wherein she expounds the surprising(?) fact that I should probably have some 'money' to run a 'business'. So...yeah. I'm going to have to learn how to save money, which is BORING. Now that there's actual Money coming in from Writing, it's at least fun to count it, I guess. My solution to this one is two-fold: First, I'm going to actively restrict my access to most of my money unless I have a good reason and Second, I'm going to authorize my girlfriend (who's conveniently quite good at saving money) to nag me when I spend too much (she's also conveniently better at nagging than I am at ignoring her).
David's Relationship Tip #11: Nagging solves all problems it doesn't start.
Get Organized(Stay Organized)
Most of my success in life has come from my sexy motto: Embrace Chaos, which I should get some sort of visual tattoo of...ABOVE MY HEART oh hells yeah! ...ahem. But there's such a thing as too much of an awesome idea, and right now H2NH Publishing is a very disorganized beast indeed, without any particular advantage in flexibility arising out of the chaos. Externally, I want to present a more convenient, sexy, and professional face to the world. Internally, I need to streamline my workflow, set up a more efficient and organized version system so I can find everything when I need it, and, finally, establish convenient, redundant backup systems.
The external solution is to get a damn website, figure out what I want it to do, and pay a professional or two to design it all slick and art it up all pretty so as to convey that Science Fantasy Romance thing I do most effectively. This is the Web 2.5, I should have an awesome website to (1) point readers at when they want to find my ever-expanding product list, (2) present a professional face to distributors and contracted artists and other contacts, and (3) because The Internet? She's awesome. Spider Frost doesn't want to be left out of the Third Web.
My Thai nickname is 'Spider'. ...context!
The internal problem is mostly caused because I live out of one tiny netbook, which I call Annette. So all my Life stuff gets mixed together with my Work stuff, and I can't find anything. Not to mention I'm always worried she's going to crash or explode or get dropped in a swamp and then I'll be poring through the backups forever and will certainly miss something. (I always do.)
The best solution is to purchase another netbook, which I will name Harvey, and designate him my Work computer. The benefits are that (1) since he'll run Ubuntu only and all games will be ruthlessly eliminated, there'll be no distractions and the unicorn of wordcount will be free to run and play in the forest of speed-typing, (2) easy to organize and backup because only work files will exist and be assumed important and (3) when my girlfriend sees me on my work computer, she'll know not to pester me with silly questions about her bottom. (Listen, lady: I said it was pleasantly plump. That's one of the good adverbs.)
Women or men, am I right, guys or gals?
I want to have all this done before the mid-point of 2012 rolls around, so that I can perhaps be fit to associate with Writer Society and go on to obtain bigger and better flaws of fancy while becoming spectacularly rich and infamous. I'd make a Shakespeare quote here at the end, but it would be in poor taste. I'll give you the highlights: Wars fought, already won, haven't begun, bless us all...Have Fun.
feel free to comment
Available Stories
Just hypothetically, then: five Dynamic Action Plans that would make the total David Barron Experience(tm) better, and thus put the H2NH Publishing train on a well-oiled track to Successtown.
Population: Me
Stop Drinking (Except Socially)I'm not Hemingway (read: I'm not a depressed tropical alcoholic), as evidenced by the fact that the domestic beer here is so cheap that I could, if I were so inclined, be perpetually drunk from dawn to dusk with no major financial hassle. Considering that the domestic whiskey and rum (not to mention the moonshine...) is cheaper still, if I were an alcoholic, you'd know it. And I'd probably have been dead or delivered (THAT'S A PUN) a couple years ago.
The main annoyance is that I'll drink beer just because I have nothing else interesting to do (kind of like people who eat when they're bored) instead of when I'm with friends or when I have made a meal worthy of alcoholic accompaniment. It's lame, because I'm essentially spending money to get fat and, possibly, dehydrated (the bane of the tropical drunk) without any particular upside. It even reduces my writing ability except in very special circumstances which I'll explore in a later article because I'm trying to keep from accidentally sounding like an alcoholic in this one.
I might be failing.
The only real strategies I've employed thus far have been willpower (weakened by boredom), going to the store with less money than I'd need to buy beer (effective, but annoying), and not drinking unless it's raining.
Since around these parts they have an entire season devoted to rain (called "The Rainy Season"), a slightly less stupid strategy for the future will be only to drink when somebody else is drinking with me. Since my girlfriend doesn't drink (to keep her girlish figure), that should cut out most of my casual drinking. And if it doesn't, it means I suddenly have more friends nearby. Either way, it's a win. We'll see how it goes.
This will be the only 'health' change, because aside from beer, the occassional Coca-Cola, and once-a-month vegetarian delivery pizza, I eat ridiculously healthy: Fresh fish, forest chicken, and piles of vegetables, fruits, and whole grains. Combined with my EXTREME Pedestrian(tm) lifestyle, the only thing keeping these extra five to ten pounds on is Mr. Booze.
Delicious booze. With squirrel.
Dress Better (All The Time)When I first came to Asia, I had a full wardrobe of suits and casualwear, everything fit and I was lookin' sharp. But the USA to Asia Diet Plan and the rigors of navigating the jungles (urban and otherwise) have reduced me to a svelte jungle lord and my wardrobe to a pathetic shell of tattered bum-wear. I've supplemented it with brightly colored shirts to distract people from the fact that everything I own is two sizes too big, but I've got to get it together.
You heard me. I'm going Mad Men on my sadsack self.
If I don't dress professional, I don't feel professional. I'm a middle-class fellow with many and more rolls of quarters to my name, and I'm a writer, so I should probably look good in photographs with famous people such as myself. I at least shouldn't be wearing the same shoes every day. Also, learn to shave well again, even if it's fun to be one of the only guys nearby who can grow out stubble overnight. I need me some smart suits, and it'll serve a double purpose of protecting my arms from skin cancer. The obvious solution is to find a tailor and lavish him with cash until he produces a full wardrobe to my specifications and the needs of the tropics.
Write Four Hours a Day (At Least)Discussed here
The Word Count Unicorn
Save Money (Not Spend It)As previously indicated, I am entirely without flaw, but if I have one pecadillo, it's that I don't think about money. (What? You talk about money ALL the time.) To clarify, I only think about how to make money, and I'm quite good at that...but not at what to do with it afterwards. Because I don't care. It is not in my nature to care about money, I'll just give it away, or, failing a semi-worthy cause, spend it like a drunken sailor (without the syphillis).
Also, I'll buy books. Lots of books. Which, I suppose, could be called a 'business expense' with enough sneakiness. I recently picked up Kristine Kathryn Rusch's "The Freelancer's Survival Guide" wherein she expounds the surprising(?) fact that I should probably have some 'money' to run a 'business'. So...yeah. I'm going to have to learn how to save money, which is BORING. Now that there's actual Money coming in from Writing, it's at least fun to count it, I guess. My solution to this one is two-fold: First, I'm going to actively restrict my access to most of my money unless I have a good reason and Second, I'm going to authorize my girlfriend (who's conveniently quite good at saving money) to nag me when I spend too much (she's also conveniently better at nagging than I am at ignoring her).
David's Relationship Tip #11: Nagging solves all problems it doesn't start.
Get Organized(Stay Organized)
Most of my success in life has come from my sexy motto: Embrace Chaos, which I should get some sort of visual tattoo of...ABOVE MY HEART oh hells yeah! ...ahem. But there's such a thing as too much of an awesome idea, and right now H2NH Publishing is a very disorganized beast indeed, without any particular advantage in flexibility arising out of the chaos. Externally, I want to present a more convenient, sexy, and professional face to the world. Internally, I need to streamline my workflow, set up a more efficient and organized version system so I can find everything when I need it, and, finally, establish convenient, redundant backup systems.
The external solution is to get a damn website, figure out what I want it to do, and pay a professional or two to design it all slick and art it up all pretty so as to convey that Science Fantasy Romance thing I do most effectively. This is the Web 2.5, I should have an awesome website to (1) point readers at when they want to find my ever-expanding product list, (2) present a professional face to distributors and contracted artists and other contacts, and (3) because The Internet? She's awesome. Spider Frost doesn't want to be left out of the Third Web.
My Thai nickname is 'Spider'. ...context!
The internal problem is mostly caused because I live out of one tiny netbook, which I call Annette. So all my Life stuff gets mixed together with my Work stuff, and I can't find anything. Not to mention I'm always worried she's going to crash or explode or get dropped in a swamp and then I'll be poring through the backups forever and will certainly miss something. (I always do.)
The best solution is to purchase another netbook, which I will name Harvey, and designate him my Work computer. The benefits are that (1) since he'll run Ubuntu only and all games will be ruthlessly eliminated, there'll be no distractions and the unicorn of wordcount will be free to run and play in the forest of speed-typing, (2) easy to organize and backup because only work files will exist and be assumed important and (3) when my girlfriend sees me on my work computer, she'll know not to pester me with silly questions about her bottom. (Listen, lady: I said it was pleasantly plump. That's one of the good adverbs.)
Women or men, am I right, guys or gals?
I want to have all this done before the mid-point of 2012 rolls around, so that I can perhaps be fit to associate with Writer Society and go on to obtain bigger and better flaws of fancy while becoming spectacularly rich and infamous. I'd make a Shakespeare quote here at the end, but it would be in poor taste. I'll give you the highlights: Wars fought, already won, haven't begun, bless us all...Have Fun.
feel free to comment
Available Stories
August 11, 2011
Training for Speed
I'm confident in my story-telling abilities and I have more ideas than I know what to do with. Well, that's not strictly true. I know exactly what to do with them: Write Them Down. To that end I've been focusing most of my 'writing practice' efforts on Training for Speed. That is to say: Writing FASTER.
I noticed a while ago that once I've actually written a story down, it usually worked great without me having to go rewrite it. I do a once-through to make sure I didn't leave any sentence fragments and to fix typos, and that's enough to catch when I've misspelled a minor character's name five different ways and search and replace it. When the story (to use the technical term) 'sucks'*, there has been no correlation between speed of typing and degree of suck.
/*Because it is my assertion that a writer can't tell whether the story is good or bad before contact with the reader, but he can know if it Sucks./
Also, look at the H2NH ePub Schedule. Those books are awesome, and I want to Write Them Down. And there's even more on queue that are rabbling for LIFE.
So, most of my training has focused on Mindset (see The First 200 Days blog posts), Health (not pictured), Schedule, and TRICKS. The tricks mostly take the form of Timers, and yesterday (8/10/2011) was the culmination. In FocusWriter, I set an eight-hour timer, a one-hour timer, and a fifteen-minute timer and Just Wrote, refreshing the timers as they expired and marking the word count:
Summary
Five hours, 4000 words. I would have gone the full eight, but that's a...
Lessons Learned:
I apparently write 800 words an hour without really trying. There was no big meditation session beforehand, and this was after a full day of traipsing through the jungle. I just sat in my rat-infested house with my trusty lizard friend to eat the mosquitoes, drank some tea and Made Stuff Up.
Have more snacks, less caffeine
Seriously, I had some salted peanuts and a half-loaf of wheat bread to counteract two liters of cold tea. That's not healthy.
Have a meal/break/some sort of human contact in the middle
You know, like a real eight-hour job. The reason I didn't get all the way through the eight hours is simple. "The spell of it" is a Science Fantasy Romance, and those four thousand words were in the Fantasy (A story) and Romance (B story) stories. Although in this case the Romance was Politics*.
/*But politics is just romance by other means./
So, when I ended the chapter and realized I had to switch mindset to Science (C story), I should have taken a break. But it was 11PM and I didn't have any food. So I read a Bernie Rhodenbarr book, then fell asleep at 1AM.
Start earlier, Write longer
Duh.
So, my target is 1,000 words an hour, 8,000 words a day. But I'll be satisfied with 5000 words a day because it's a convenient number for division. I just need to practice and learn the tricks of the trade. If I remember, I'll update the spreadsheet for as long as SCIENCE demands I train for speed. So if you're really bored, you can follow along. Alternatively, you could steal it and do this on your own.
Up to you.Available Stories
August 9, 2011
How You Buy eBooks
I recently was recommended Lawrence Block by indirect word-of-mouth from Dean Wesley Smith, and by direct word-of-mouth by Jeff Ambrose (and a brief Twitter exchange with Lawrence Block his own self.) So I wandered over to Wikipedia, in which I read: "Block's other major series, humorous and much lighter in tone, relates the misadventures of gentleman burglar Bernie Rhodenbarr. The series is rich in sophisticated, witty dialogue." So I went to the author's website, and it said I didn't have to read them in order, so I chose #3 (since I figured the character would have 'ripened' by then). Over to Amazon...I bought and read the eBook "The Burglar Who Liked To Quote Kipling". In that it was 'rich in sophisticated, witty dialogue' and of a desirable length for my busy schedule, I liked it, so I proceeded to purchase the other nine.
As of this writing, I have read the first two as well. Nice.
So, to recap: I bought 10 eBooks via word-of-mouth --> Twitter --> blurb --> website --> awesome. (Oh, and note that these were $6.99. Since it was somewhere between $2.99 and $9.99, the price point was really not a consideration in the process.)
How do you buy eBooks?
Available Stories
August 4, 2011
Romancing the Hone
Alligators? Nobody could survive that!
Er...that is: Honing the Romance. Cue silly picture.
Anywho, I wanted to highlight a few things about the Romance genre, because it ties together a few Writing article concepts that would otherwise be rather short for a weekly post.
How I buy eBooks
If I see a book amongst friends on Twitter, Goodreads or, sometimes, their website, I'll look at it, hence the importance of word-of-mouth referrals (first-order). I also follow Smart Bitches, Trashy Books (amongst others) for my romance reading, highlighting the importance of word-of-link referrals (second-order). But a lot of the time it's just me stumbling across a book in the Amazon search (third-order), thus requiring a good blurb and cover. Finally, of course, all these require a good preview (money-shot!)
This time I searched Amazon for 'domestic romance'--because for some reason I decided that day that I shall buy my romance books like I do beer (presumably an import romance would have more body)--and found a neat series.
Romeo, Romeo
Too Hot to Handle
Breakfast in Bed
Rosalie Ronaldi is never getting married, no way, no how! But convincing her Italian mother and family is easier said than done for this financial executive. After leaving another hectic Sunday dinner at her parents' in Brooklyn, Rosalie gets a flat tire and curses her brother, who borrowed the car, in three different languages, impressing Good Samaritan Nick Romeo. Nick is considered Brooklyn's equivalent of Donald Trump: he owns several car dealerships and dates beautiful gold diggers. Driving a tow truck and wearing overalls, he decides to help Rosalie, who he thinks is crazy and very attractive in a Sophia Loren style. As they start a relationship, Rosalie has no idea that this Nick is the Nick Romeo. She lays down her ground rules, including nothing serious and no marriage talk, and Nick agrees until their relationship heats up. Now he must work up the nerve to tell Rosalie who he really is. Kaye's debut is a delightfully fun, witty romance, making her a writer to watch.
From that blurb (actually a review, I guess...), the hook-word was 'witty' (somehow overcoming 'Donald Trump'), so I looked at the preview and saw that it was written from both perspectives. That's a good sign, because
What I Like in Books
First and foremost, Dialogue. Word-play, wit, wisdom, clevertude, attitude, scathing, simmering, rolling off the tongue, read-out-loud-and-laugh exchanges. In romance, this usually takes the form of 'banter', scaling up from playful, flirty, romantic and finally culminating in sexy. This is the province of Christopher Moore, Terry Pratchett, A Confederacy of Dunces, Catch-22, (Shakespeare!) and is the reason I enjoy The Hobbit and hate The Lord of the Rings. And why I like A Song of Ice and Fire almost exclusively for Tyrion and Littlefinger (and sometimes Jaime). Thus,
Second but still foremost, Characters. You can't have good dialogue without good characters, and the best dialogue is two strong characters (or more! in a tightly written scene) duking it out with words. It's the book equivalent of an exciting action sequence with colorful explosions, and it should be enshrined accordingly. This is the reason why I don't really care for (most) Victorian romances, because women are assumed to be submissive (or so brazenly unsubmissive as to render dialogue moot by sheer physicality). Inner thoughts aren't dialogue! At least not when I'm writing them, which leads us to...
Romance Hones My Writing
SciFaR? (sounds like 'Cypher')
As I've previously indicated, I write in the Science Fantasy Romance genre, a delightful fusion of all the things I like to read. In my opinion, my best (stand-alone) genre example thus far is my short story "The Moors of Venus" (which you can find most conveniently in my Fantasy collection "To Another Shore"). To craft that genre, I read three genres and steal the good parts.
To make a useful generalization, Science Fiction = Plot and Fantasy = Setting while,
Romance = Relationships
The main strength of Romance is that it focuses on relationships (and hence, to my tastes: 'dialogue', a verbal relationship) and,
Relationships = Characters.
Relationships define characters, and show without telling. You could declare "Timmy was a good person. Alice knew it." or you could more effectively describe Timmy taking care of his sick girlfriend Alice. Likewise with plot and setting. It's just there for the characters to react to, and, by reacting, to reveal character. Thus,
Characters = Story. Available Stories
July 31, 2011
Two New Collections
I put together and released two short story collections for your reading convenience.
To Another Shore
eight fantasy stories
$2.99
Kindle
Dear sir or madam: please find attached eight short stories of a most fantastic nature. But, lo, I beg to inform you that it is a most mixed bag of fantasies. "The Witch of Amber City" is a parable. "Sorcerer's Hire" is a coming-of-age story set amidst a magical-industrial war. "Timpani the Ostrich Rancher" posits a preemptive Great War sparked by the independent Kingdom of Kenya. "An Aesop Amidst the Fairy Dust" is a humorous urban fantasy of pizza. "The Moors of Venus" is my favorite short story of all I've written, and once you've read it, you'll agree. "New Sodom Takes Her Chances", starring Satan, is just plain weird. "The Ambassador's Lady" chronicles the break-up of an Imperial Russia. Last but not least, "Ostracon" is a fast-paced tale of Mesolithic errantry. Is there a theme amidst this delightful madness? Sure. But you'll only find it out once you've gone To Another Shore.
More of the Sun
The Jeremiad Monologues
$0.99
Kindle
He's forcing me to publish this: Jeremiad, the lounge lizard turned revolutionary. He just appeared in my office—seriously, he can teleport—he's holding my whisky hostage. He keeps talking and talking, some day he'll get to the point. He's promised me one beer for each book sold. ...I'm so thirsty.
This one is the three Jeremiad monologues in one convenient package, with much better cover art. If you previously purchased one of the single stories, e-mail me and I'll send you this one gratis
I'm putting these on Amazon first, and will make the Smashwords editions later. Thanks to my eBook Formatting Workflow and macros, it takes five minutes to format a book for MOBI and EPUB. Whereas I have to do all the formatting by hand in a word processor for Smashwords.
I'm also going to use this opportunity to see if LibreOffice 3.4 will suffice to do Smashwords DOC formatting. That would make my life a lot easier. Results to follow.Available Stories
To Another Shoreeight fantasy stories
$2.99
Kindle
Dear sir or madam: please find attached eight short stories of a most fantastic nature. But, lo, I beg to inform you that it is a most mixed bag of fantasies. "The Witch of Amber City" is a parable. "Sorcerer's Hire" is a coming-of-age story set amidst a magical-industrial war. "Timpani the Ostrich Rancher" posits a preemptive Great War sparked by the independent Kingdom of Kenya. "An Aesop Amidst the Fairy Dust" is a humorous urban fantasy of pizza. "The Moors of Venus" is my favorite short story of all I've written, and once you've read it, you'll agree. "New Sodom Takes Her Chances", starring Satan, is just plain weird. "The Ambassador's Lady" chronicles the break-up of an Imperial Russia. Last but not least, "Ostracon" is a fast-paced tale of Mesolithic errantry. Is there a theme amidst this delightful madness? Sure. But you'll only find it out once you've gone To Another Shore.
More of the SunThe Jeremiad Monologues
$0.99
Kindle
He's forcing me to publish this: Jeremiad, the lounge lizard turned revolutionary. He just appeared in my office—seriously, he can teleport—he's holding my whisky hostage. He keeps talking and talking, some day he'll get to the point. He's promised me one beer for each book sold. ...I'm so thirsty.
This one is the three Jeremiad monologues in one convenient package, with much better cover art. If you previously purchased one of the single stories, e-mail me and I'll send you this one gratis
I'm putting these on Amazon first, and will make the Smashwords editions later. Thanks to my eBook Formatting Workflow and macros, it takes five minutes to format a book for MOBI and EPUB. Whereas I have to do all the formatting by hand in a word processor for Smashwords.
I'm also going to use this opportunity to see if LibreOffice 3.4 will suffice to do Smashwords DOC formatting. That would make my life a lot easier. Results to follow.Available Stories
