C.C. Adams's Blog: C.C. Does The Write Thing, page 5

Props.

For the life of me, I couldn't remember whether I'd written about this previously or not. So I took time to check and saw that I hadn't. So here we are.

Recently , I've been thinking about props. No, not movie props. Props as in 'proper recognition', respect, acknowledgement, accolades, etc. In particular, about winning awards, or even being nominated for one. Of course, it'd be cool to win one - I won't lie. But I won't beg either.

As yet, the only award/acknowledgement I've had is an Honourable Mention from the AHWA (Australian Horror Writers' Association) when I entered a short story competition some years ago. Note that short story in question is still unpublished so far, but a character or two from it may surface in the near future.

Anyhow.

I think of the awards in the genre, like a BFS (British Fantasy Society) award or a Bram Stoker (Horror Writers' Association award). It'd be nice to be nominated for one, let alone win one. Don't misunderstand me - this isn't a tantrum or a cry for help. It would be nice because, among other things, such an accolade would raise your profile, boost your audience, and all that good stuff that goes with it. In much the same way that some restaurants are Michelin starred, some household appliances may be recommended by Which? and how recording artists may win a Grammy, how those in film may win an Oscar/Academy Award, etc. etc. etc. Of course, such awards and accolades are also partly subjective, since they'll draw on the personal taste of the judges as well as the audience(s). From the longlist to the shortlist to the final list. Good on those who rightfully get on any kind of list. But then, some may beat their audience over the head with the desire to be a winner; as a jury panel may follow politics and bias at the expense of fairness. The Oscars have been a good example of this; whether it's racism, sexism, etc. (and, as a black man writing in a genre that's been famously white for many years, I'm aware of bias). By all means, call out such bias where it's evident, but don't lose sight of what else is important.

The bottom line is this - and I will continue to say this: as an author, the writing is the bottom line. It's the absolute be-all and end-all, it's the bread and butter, it's the alpha-omega. The writing is what makes it all possible. And if you're not putting those words down on a regular basis, good luck with getting anything else to happen.

I count myself 'lucky' that I don't have writer's block. As is, I'm still writing as fast as I can to keep the muse in my sights, let alone catch up to her. I'm aware that my work might not move everyone, and that's okay. Mama's not quick to read my work, although she'll happily keep the books as some kind of trophy. I've been unfriended in real life and social media over the content, perceived or otherwise, of my work. Friends will applaud the hustle, but won't necessarily read the work. But that's okay. What matters is my audience and I do my level best to deliver my best work for them. And me.

There are only a handful of reviews of my work on the likes of Amazon, Goodreads, etc. - even if those reviews are mostly favourable. For a platform like Amazon, the business of leaving reviews/feedback has been made easier. That said, I'm guilty of missing it - one savvy head in the genre had to point out that at the end of reading a Kindle book, there's an option to leave a star rating, just in case you don't want to leave a full-blown review. No need for paragraphs of praise, just a couple of button clicks. Just click the 'Review this book on Amazon' star rating and once you've done that, you should then see the 'Add a review (Optional)' section come up. Add your review and click the 'Submit' button. Or - and even easier, once you've left the star rating, just drag the title bar down the page to return to your Kindle book. Job done. Reviews help the author, the publisher and the audience(s). Everybody wins.

What such accolades do is not only reward you in part for your hard work, but reward you for your product. Yes, accolades and awards can be gratifying, but shouldn't be the be-all and end-all. That's not a healthy approach to take. It can be something of a Catch-22 where an audience won't buy into your brand without reviews, and that same audience won't review anything (favourably or otherwise) without buying into your brand. Patience and persistence should see that both of those come in.

My audience has told me that my work has been hard to put down, given them the creeps, made their skin crawl and - one favourite to date - 'some of you motherfuckers need Jesus' on another story that is, as yet, unpublished. I'll gladly and humbly take those as wins in the meantime. What else can I do; apart from write?

#game #game101 #awards #bfs #hwa #writing

Mix Business With Pleasure.

Shenanigans abound - the zenith of the 'Best Legs In Horror' debacle. l-r: Myk Pilgrim, Phil Sloman, and me, at 2019's FantasyCon.

What I'm asked more - certainly - recently, is "what are the conventions like?" More often than not, these questions are asked by newer authors, rather than publishers, editors and such. These questions are asked with genuine curiosity, at least, as far as I can tell. Maybe some trepidation. Even anxiety. I get it. After all, chances are good that these conventions won't be in your town, so you'd need to think about hotel accommodation, as well as booking travel to and from the event. How much money they'll cost. Which, in turn, comes with other considerations. Time off from the day job, childcare for families, etc. Things you might need to weigh up before you commit. I guess it comes down to: what do you want to get out of a convention?

Let's get into it.

As someone who was shy as a kid (I can remember when Mama would take me to see the doctor, and I'd sit in the waiting room, head down, swinging my legs as I sat on the chair), I can sympathise. No, I'm not like that now, but I can appreciate how it is to literally be the shy and awkward kid in the room. And I can understand why people will be asking about conventions. They've not been to a convention before. They don't know anyone there, or they don't know what to expect. They've not written anything in a while. They don't have many publishing credits to their name, if any. They're not good with people. Etc. etc. etc.

In spite of any/all of that, you still have your place in the community.

There's a truism in life that everyone starts somewhere - hell, life itself is like that. The horror community is largely supportive of their own, so rest assured that if you make it known you're a little unsure of a convention, I can pretty much guarantee that someone in the community is willing to step up to answer your questions and help lay your fears to rest. Not only that, but there'll also be those who will gladly support, encourage and uplift you, should you need it. If you can ask find the courage to ask for help or support - and it does take a level of courage to admit a shortcoming - then rest assured there are those in the community who'll gladly step up to help.

I've been asked what I get out of conventions. Which is a number of things. Such as:

1. Meeting genre peers. Yes, I'm an author - but I'm not slavish to it. Yes, there's a life outside of the writing. Family, friends, exercise, etc. That said, time with peers is good, because it's ...well, it's GOOD. It can also be good for BUSINESS, which includes:

2. New business/new connections. Invariably when I'm at a convention, I meet 'the usual suspects' as well as a making a new connect. More often than not, I WILL get new business as a result of catching up with someone face-to-face. And that's not a formal process. I might be lounging next to someone in the bar. Or, in the last case, just after a bear-hug after I caught up with them on the stall in the Dealers' Room. There's also:

3. New content. Because as much as people may buy into what I write, I don't have a book coming out every month. Conventions give you something to talk about, they get you out of the house and they also help you...

4. Keep up to date with your community. And because you get more interactive with your community, it also helps...

5. Raise your profile. Which, from the point of view of getting your name out there, selling books and making some money, is a GOOD thing.

The 'you-know-he's-gonna-start-some-shit' and 'how-the-hell-did-I-keep-the-camera-straight-when-I-was-pissing-myself-laughing' part of the day. Edge-Lit 2018. l-r: Pete Indiana Allison, Dion Winton-Polak, Ben Jones.

The bottom line here is what you, as an individual, want to get out of a convention - anything from wanting to see what they're like, to actually taking part; whether it's hosting a panel, doing a reading, etc. They're what you make them. For me, I actually get to mix business with pleasure and catch up with my community. Doesn't matter whether I meet you for the first time, or if I've known you for how many years. We can shop talk, spit game, take in a panel or two, catch some comedy. There'll probably be shenanigans. From the likes of the Best Legs In Horror debacle, and The Waitrose Incident, to the likes of the Alien: Covenant Flute Revelation (so much flute) to the Coffee Cream Wars. Where you're more likely to experience The Brick Of Laura Mauro rather than the eyes of Laura Mars. Etc. etc. etc.

Whether you've met them before or not, you get a chance to meet your community. That, alone, is worth the price of admission for me. Interacting with your peers online is nothing like actually meeting them - especially if you've not met them in real life before! Get to really know them; their tone of voice, how they carry themselves, how they, too, interact with their community. Get to really know them. Meet them and enjoy it - make those memories. Good ones.

Maybe the likes of myself and Steve Shaw took the moral high ground, or didn't get the joke, or feared recriminations, or... Shenanigans at FantasyCon, 2017.

Writing is like a lot of endeavours in life - and like life itself - in that everyone starts somewhere. This doesn't mean that everyone will get along with everyone - after all it's a community. And, like life in general, not everyone will get along. I call this out, because I have no doubt that there are some have have reservations about stepping to a particular event because so-and-so will be there. Fuck that. If YOU have business to attend to, YOU go attend to it. Easier said than done, maybe, but (again, as in life in general) some things should not stop you from doing what you want/need to do. As long as you're not a dick (and then, you have no place in the genre). Note that the the indie horror community is largely supportive and tight-knit so in the event that someone comes at you sideways, call that shit out.

I can't decide for you. But I can present the case for you. Get in where you fit in.

#game #game101 #convention #fantasycon #horror #horrorcommunity

Monster Aesthetics.

Somewhere in the last few days, there was a post on Twitter on some, 'which book gave you the creeps?' or some such. And it was only after I gave an answer that I realised, "Man, I've given that particular answer a LOT."

Which, in itself, is a story. So. here's hoping you're sitting comfortably. Because this is a tale of horror. Mistaken identity. A slow burner with a lasting legacy. Ready?

I'll begin.

Way, way back, when I was an Afro'd kid and I still watched horror films (yes, for the record, I don't watch them any more since they genuinely scare me), I was also reading horror novels. The likes of Alien, The Thing, The Omen, etc. All of these brought into the house by my oldest brother. As was one book called Incubus, written by Ray Russell. That one stuck with me. Good pace, intrigue, drama, horror, and a decent monster. One that was inhuman, dangerous, hard to spot, seemingly unstoppable. Yes, that book made an impression on me.

...but not so much that I could remember who actually wrote it. That part's important because, when I finally remembered the book years later, I bought what I thought was the same book: Incubus, by Ray Russell. What I actually bought was Incubus, by Joe Donnelly.

Both of these books are good books, well written, engaging and horrific. I have to give the nod to Joe Donnelly's version because, to date, it's the only book I've read that truly made my skin crawl. Even reading it in the daytime. The only book that came close was Stephen King's "Needful Things" - and that was specifically in the scene where, if memory serves, some kid's brother commits suicide and something strange is leaking out of his head.

I'm mindful of dissecting a work - my own work in particular(!), and it's not something I generally do. Partly because I feel it exposes the magic behind how I pull the proverbial rabbit out of the hat (i.e. pull off the story). There are exceptions; But Worse Will Come is an example of this. You may see more examples of this in an upcoming work or two, so keep eyes and ears open. Those are cases where I feel the work lends itself to more of a wander into the mythos and how it came to be (along with why it came to be).

Back to the matter.

With my skin crawling like never before, I finally return to the Incubus aesthetic years down the line - without realising that I was doing it. Yeah, there are things that impress me and move me, but I don't always think, 'yeah, I'm gonna write like I read in that book' or 'I'm gonna pace this story like in that film I saw a few weeks back', etc. Certain aesthetics will resonate with you. Sauce on your food. More bass in your music. Blood and gore in your horror. Etc. etc. etc. You just go with it.

Joe Donnelly's Incubus has, for me, certain things I'd key into. The tagline alone: "What kind of baby would steal a mother?" Yes, you'd need to read the book to get the answer to that question, because I wouldn't tell you - but this, to me, is just another example of a tagline that hooks you. Right up there with "The Future Is History", "The first time was only a warning", and "Man Is The Warmest Place To Hide", etc. etc. etc. Probably my biggest takeaway from this book was the sense of pace. Yes, what happens in the story is important but so is the speed or the pace of it. In the same way you might hurry a meal if you're running late (and you 'shouldn't', really) or you might want to take your time with a hot date, pacing is just as important as the story itself. When I write, I'm mindful of pace, and while some readers aren't into how my stories are paced, that's okay. Just know that restraint in my pacing is deliberate.

And then we get to the villain of the piece. And with Incubus, this is probably the most important factor: how I realised what I was actually looking at! And it was so jarring and masterfully done, the sense of realisation brings a ...gravity and disgust at how wrong you were. That you've been so skillfully wrong-footed all along, you didn't even realise until something else had shown you. Let alone what the agenda is ...along with the outcome.

When it comes to monster aesthetics, there are a number of things I start with. What might terrify me. What I think might terrify other people. What might terrify my characters. All of which goes a lot deeper than weird eyes or a mouthful of fangs. But as to how much deeper and where?

Now, that would be telling.

#incubus #horror #writing #game #game101

Everyone.

There was an advert I remember from when I was much younger. A whole host of celebrities (and by this, I mean the likes of actors, musicians and such, and not reality TV stars) appeared in front of the camera, one at a time. Each one reeled off a person's name, seemingly obscure to the audience, until - at the end of the advert - there's a single placard:

Everyone remembers a good teacher.

I remember my teachers. I remember the bad ones. I won't cite them by name, but I can call out why I'd say they were bad. They were short-tempered. Impatient. Ill-mannered. Don't misunderstand me; I'm sure I was hard work, albeit nowhere near as difficult as my peers would have been (and that's a whole other story). I can remember the good ones. My tutor group teacher; who taught English. Loved his work, cared about us. Was firm but fair. Encouraged us; made class fun - and funny.

There've been other instances where people have taught me or mentored me. My first bass instructor, for example - Jack. Amiable, laidback. Never raised his voice. Blessed with infinite patience. Do you know I actually took up bass several years ago, partly to give myself a break from all the writing I was doing? But Jack was pure cool in human form. Those occasions when I'd become more proficient at a bassline and he'd sit there watching, enrapt. Grinning. My other bass instructor, Devid, who told me more than once, 'little and often'. As in regular practise, even if it was only 10 minutes every night. Devid was also blessed with patience, good humour, and a sense of cool, but would go for other basslines to teach. 'Stuck In The Middle With You', for example. And he made it fly. I digress.

In the realm of writing, this is where I have to cite Ian O'Neill. For those that don't know, Ian O'Neill is an author that I first met as a member of Kelley Armstrong's former discussion forum - years ago on her website. After having written some fanfic based on her work and then catching wind of NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month), I decided to run with the writing thing after I beat my first (and, to date, only) NaNoWriMo challenge. Having written 52,000 words in 29 days convinced me that writing might be worth running with.

See, I knew I could tell a story, but conceded I had yet to master the craft - or at least the basics of it. What Ian had done, unlike some before, was encourage. Hardly an intensive mentorship, but it was encouragement regardless. Plus, he was patient and gave constructive feedback. Pointers on sentence structure. Urging me to 'move the story forward'. Pointing out my penchant for minutiae - which I still struggle with! Story structure and outlining. Believe me when I say that looking back over those earlier stories and Ian's notes has been ...uncomfortable. Again, hardly an intensive mentorship, but what it gave me was feedback on what I was doing and how I was doing. For the most part, I began to learn more by writing more; Ian gave me a gentle nudge in a stronger direction. And not only was I learning my craft, but also developing my approach to the craft.

Sometimes he would sign off with, "now, go write something" - hell, I love him for that alone. This was (and, for me, still is) the catch-all sign-off. The 'you can go now'. Or the 'go kick some ass'. For those who've read There Goes Pretty and remember the dedication at the beginning, hopefully it makes more sense now.

With over a decade of experience writing with professional intent, I don't claim to be a veteran or to have the game on lock. What I am grateful for, is the chance to give something back to those writers who might be less experienced or less confident; not only in terms of writing, but also in terms of the business of writing. Everything from the business of rejections to the business of promotion.

Generally, when I'm between writing stories, I'll offer story critique to other authors. This is something I also do in an official capacity as one of the HWA's mentors: it's a chance to give something back to the genre. Helping others to find their voice - as well as their strength, as Ian had done for me. Even outside the realm of story critique, I'll gladly pass on what knowledge and insight I have, and I'm glad to do that. Hell, I'm honoured to do that. I'd *like* to think I have talent and vision - but, please don't take my word for it. You're welcome to pick up a story or two and judge for yourself.

So go ahead and call it out if I'm wrong. But I'm pretty sure that everyone remembers a good teacher.

Everyone.

#ianoneill #theregoespretty #hwa #writing #game

The Body.

A while ago, I got into a convo with someone I used to work with. Among other things, we talked on how the writing (read: my writing) is coming. So I tell on what's recently been published, what's coming down the pike.

The question that comes next is 'how many more pieces do I want to write?' To which, I say: a lifetime's worth.

And then I get the response that it's bonkers to think that 24 books (my approximate count of publications on my Amazon page, mostly in journals or anthologies) isn't enough. A few of those have my name on the cover - just a few. I can tell you that's not enough. Nowhere near.

One rationalisation I use is that supermarkets don't stay in business because they have a loaf of bread, or a bottle of milk, or a frozen pizza. No. They stay in business because they have shelves, fridges and freezers fully stocked with that shit. Which the mindset I have for getting the writing done, it's not just about quality product, it's about volume.

Because, I don't just write stories. I'm building a body of work.

Here's where I lay it out:

I have stories published; from short stories to novellas - no novels as yet. Most of those stories are standalone, but some a part of a particular mythos; such as the Sunset Is Just The Beginning mythos or the Kin, We Are mythos. But for all of my published works, it wouldn't take my most dedicated readers more than a few months (I'm guessing) to consume them.

Having caught up with Mr. Macabre, Erik Hofstatter a while back, we had this conversation, among others: what do you want for your writing? For me, the bottom line is to engage and wow my audience ...and maybe scare the shit outta them. The rationale I made - and this will be familiar commentary to some of you - is that for your favourite author/recording artist/actor, etc., how many books/singles or EPs or albums/films or TV shows/etc. have they done? Ditto for the likes of painters, sculptors, fashion designers, etc. Because, yes, you might like some of their work, but part of what you buy into is the body of work. The premise that you like what they've done so far, and you're going to stick around for more.

First and foremost, the writing itself is the most important thing: the be-all and end-all, the bread and butter, the alpha-omega, the bottom line: the basic rule of Game 101. For any work I put out, it needs to be good enough that I would put my name to, and it needs to be good enough that I would buy it. Believe me when I say I don't take this lightly. As for whether my work is good enough for someone else to buy, that's a different issue altogether. Because I'm already aware that some people simply won't take to what I do or how I do it - hell, Mama's one of these people. And that's okay. But what matters is that my audience are engaged, wowed, and hooked. And maybe scared and unsettled as well. Bearing in mind that what takes me weeks and months to write is something a reader can consume in a fraction of the time, I'm mindful to 'keep writing.'

As such, this is where I want to craft work that truly rewards the audience and gives them something worth buying into. Which means more work; a lot more stories to show the journeys of those characters - there needs to be breadth to it. Enough to take up a bookcase, rather than a bookshelf. Short stories to novels; collections through to series. Things that fans can debate over. Things that film and TV studios can buy into. Things that can be adapted as plays, whether it's for the stage or radio. Things that journalists, lecturers and such can delve into and theorise over.

In terms of reward I'd like for my work, to wow my audience and to live comfortably from it would be a good start. In terms of the volume of work? That probably would be a lifetime's worth.

So the next time you look at my bibliography whether it's on my site, on Amazon or some such, or even on your shelf, know this: I'm not done yet, nor do I plan to be.

Keep an eye on the body.

#game101 #game #writing #erikhofstatter

Hanging With Mr. Macabre

Who got the beers in? Erik Hofstatter, that's who. Time well spent.

Now, the last time I hung with Erik Hofstatter - or Mr. Macabre, as I call him - was about 3 or so years ago. What had happened was that there was a 30-year anniversary screening of Hellraiser at the Prince Charles Cinema here in Central London; yards away from where you get the red-carpet film premieres. For those who don't know, the Prince Charles Cinema had a thing years back - and I'm not sure if this is still a thing - where they had ninja ushers working the theatre. Black silhouettes whose purpose was to creep up on you and shush you if you were too noisy or talking too much/loud during the film. Don't believe me? See for yourself.

https://metro.co.uk/2012/09/18/londons-prince-charles-cinema-hires-team-of-ninjas-to-keep-noisy-film-fans-quiet-577857/

You're welcome. But back to the matter.

Erik Hofstatter, in case you're unaware, is a fellow horror author. Who, as his Amazon bio will attest, dwells in Kent 'consuming copious amounts of mead'. The first time I met Erik was back at the first meeting of the HWA's UK chapter; April 2016. Of course, Erik being elusive and reclusive, he only announced his presence after the gathering and so we linked on social media - par for the course. Be it known that for the indie convention circuit; the likes of FantasyCon, Edge-Lit, the UK Ghost Story Festival, et al, you're unlikely to see Erik at any of those.

I'm not a voracious reader; the craft of writing keeps me busy as is. Regardless, I figured I'd read some of Hofstatter's work, starting with a novelette called Katerina. Not what I was expecting but dark and distinctive. A tale of two characters, neither necessarily likeable, but drawn together in a love story with a difference. A good place to start in Hofstatter's work. The next one I read was the novella called Rare Breeds.

To be fair, even having read some of Hofstatter's work at this point, I figured Rare Breeds might be about a werewolf or two. But I tell you this: for all the works of horror I've read and seen in all my years, this is one of the nastiest. There's a true sense of the macabre in this tale - hence 'Mr. Macabre'.

While it might not have the gore some horror aficionados are used to, there's a genuine sense of things going bad to worse and horribly wrong. To give context to those who might be familiar with '80s horror films: both An American Werewolf In London and The Fly have that sense of things going horribly wrong. David Kessler survived a werewolf mauling, only for his dead friend to haunt him and warn him that he too will change and kill people. David rejects this and Jack - until the full moon rises and nothing short of a bullet to the head is going to end the nightmare of a transformation that's now alarmingly and painfully real. In the case of Seth Brundle, he doesn't even realise what's gone wrong at first, let alone how wrong. Note that the production on the film deliberately went for a deformed look to underscore the theme of 'horribly wrong' - something sickly that wasn't a viable creature. That's the sense of 'horribly wrong' I get on reading Rare Breeds.

Not only am I not a voracious reader, but I'm not a ...forgiving critic. There are works that many might rave about which don't necessarily move me; superhero film Black Panther is one of those. On the other hand, there are works that I love that many don't; the theatrical cut of Daredevil with Ben Affleck and Michael Clarke Duncan is possibly my all-time favourite superhero film. And this is coming from a Spider-Man comic-book fan and collector. That said, there are those works that I will rave about until everyone else is blue in the face. Masterful works such as Brian Keene's 'The Rising' (which outdoes the likes of The Walking Dead, 28 Days Later, Night Of The Living Dead, Resident Evil, et al, in my opinion). Ditto for Mark Morris' 'Full Up', Joe Donnelly's 'Incubus', JR Park's 'Mad Dog' and Erik Hofstatter's 'Rare Breeds'. All of those are unique works, and all of them are masterful.

Anyway. The 30th anniversary screening of Hellraiser - which I've now seen on Clive Barker's site as on 25th September 2017 - was something Erik was in town for. Given that the Prince Charles Cinema is a short journey across town from me, we agreed to catch up before Erik hit the screening. Drinks and shop talk, talking this, that and the third. And since I got that round in, it's been years before the elusive recluse made good on that promise to get return the favour.

So there we are at last, having coaxed Mr. Macabre into braving the masses again. Over a few beers - and food (because it's me). Shop talk. What we're currently working on. What's coming down the pike. Peers in the craft. Time in the game. State of the genre. All of that and more; this time at a pub in Victoria

where the beef nachos had fuck-all beef.

where, I after I ordered a chicken and fish sharing platter to get enough meat for the nachos, an old beggar brother asked me to spare some food (two chicken wings and a handful of fries I gave him).

where the men's room ran out of soap, but more filthy humans still used the men's room like nothing was wrong.

where I stood waiting with a shitty hand and some kindly woman offered me a high-five.

where I asked our barman and bar security for soap before the manager finally came though with the liquid soap to refill the dispensers.

Now, that was a horror story - especially in these pandemic times. If you want to read one which is undoubtedly more entertaining, treat yourselves to Hofstatter's "Rare Breeds", which isn't getting nearly enough love - or screen time - in my opinion. Do that, and you might just convince Erik to brave the masses more often.**

**Don't leave it years to get the next round in, boss...

#erikhofstatter #rarebreeds #hwa #pandemic #coronavirus #princecharlescinema #london #ninjausher

Jack's Been Waiting.

What you're seeing is my first attempt on carving a jack o'lantern; a trial run. The next one comes this weekend, where I use a tealight candle instead of a torch.

I was tempted to call this entry 'Planning For Jack', but then that brought to mind the XTC song 'Making Plans For Nigel.' And while I was trying to come up with an appropriate title, I realised that Jack's been waiting ..so, yeah, there's your title.

For all my years on this earth, I'd never had the urge to mark Halloween, but I guess there's something to be said for exposure to ritual and such, since last Halloween was when I decided, 'yeah, let me get some' and opted to get into it (the full background behind this is on the HWA site here).

Never having carved a pumpkin jack o'lantern before, or seen how it's done, I decided to do a little research. Since Halloween is on a Sunday this year, the plan was to buy two pumpkins: one on Halloween weekend and one the weekend before. The pumpkin for the weekend before would be for the trial run. One step-by-step guide is here:

https://www.bbcgoodfood.com/howto/guide/how-carve-pumpkin

So. I already have the pumpkin, as of last week's grocery order. A carving pumpkin, apparently. I don't know what the difference is between that and a regular pumpkin but as long as it's easy enough to cut, then I'm happy. I'm not exactly lacking in upper body strength but if I wanted a workout, well, that's what MuscleWorks is for. Rummaging around in a kitchen drawer sees me come up with an old knife; not the longest blade, but it might do. A blade I'm sure was serrated with bite many moons ago, but is now more bumpy-smooth. I might have to buy a new one. I'm no longer a teen or a twenty-something, but I wonder how easy it'll be for this black man to step into a shop and buy nothing but a knife (since I have everything else I need to meet Jack). Still, the old knife might do. Hell, even after hanging with a friend this weekend just gone and telling her of my plan, she lets me have a whole bag of tea-light candles after I tell her that I put some on the last grocery order, but they were out of stock.

So, now I have everything, right?

Wrong.

Because what I haven't had thus far is any time to carve the damned thing.

In a very real sense, I've been on the go since FantasyCon 2021 - yes, a month ago. Life has been busier since then. A good busy, but busy nonetheless. Which has left less time for writing, at least in the short term. I say 'in the short term' because I'm mindful to keep the product moving. As I've said so many times: the writing is the bottom line, the be-all and end-all, the alpha-omega. Yes, even if I stopped writing right now, I still have work that is already sold that's due for publication - one this Halloween weekend, in fact. But the machine needs to be kept running, as it were, so I need to keep writing. Thankfully I'm starting to get a sense of normalcy and routine in the day-to-day. Which leaves the evenings and weekends to write.

And, in this case, to carve two pumpkins. Gotta practise first, right? After all, Jack and I need to have words. There's a lot to discuss.

#halloween #pumpkin #horror #jackolantern #fantasycon #fantasycon2021 #hwa

FantasyCon 2021, 24th - 26th September.

Lounging: time in the bar with fellow author Sue York after our Saturday afternoon reading; my first panel that day.

Two years since I last went to a FantasyCon; in fact, two years since there last was a FantasyCon. You can blame the pandemic for that one. For the UK indie horror community that weathered the pandemic thus far, I don't think I'm wrong in saying that announcing a FantasyCon while in the midst of the pandemic was met with mixed reviews. Those that thought it might be too early. Those concerned about how it would be done safely. And so on and so on and so on.

My feeling was that it would be bittersweet. One because some people, for reasons related to the pandemic, couldn't go. Two, because those who would attend would feel the absence of those that didn't. And three, because those that did attend would see COVID measures in place - a reminder that things weren't quite back to normal yet.

For my part, it was mostly as enjoyable as ever.

What I personally get from FantasyCon - or any other convention or such gathering I step to - is mostly the same. Time to catch up with existing contacts and peers, making new contacts, and drumming up some new business/projects. And lets not forget the shenanigans; such as me pec-popping to The Blue Danube Waltz before the Tales In The Dark reading. More on that a little later.

In case you're unaware and I'm jumping the gun, FantasyCon is a 3-day event hosted by the British Fantasy Society (or BFS, for short). A gathering for the exponents of fantasy literature; where 'fantasy' in this case is the wider umbrella that covers fantasy, sci-fi and horror. From experience, the majority of attendees deal in horror of some kind (like extreme, weird, quiet, etc. As for the benefit of such additional labelling, that's another conversation). Those attendees are the likes of authors, editors, publishers, reviewers, artists/illustrators, podcasters, etc.

FantasyCon is usually held in a hotel of some description. I've learned that, for me, it's best to stay at the hotel where the convention is being held. That way, if I'm tired in the middle of late-night panels or lounging in the bar, I don't have far to travel to my room. Easily preferable to hoofing back to another hotel in the middle of the night, complete with full bladder and empty stomach.

Anyhow. Train was got to Birmingham on the Friday afternoon. Met Laura Mauro and hubby coming out of the station, heading off to the hotel; me staying at the convention hotel; them, close by. Once in the hotel, I see the likes of Allen Stroud, Russell Smith, Steve Foot (who I'd not seen since my first FantasyCon in Scarborough), Myk Pilgrim and Pippa Bailey, Nat Whiston (apologies I got hijacked mid-convo by Myk), and Jan Edwards, along with Peter Coleborn. And Justin (JR) Park, head honcho at the Sinister Horror Company. The Gingefather himself, Jim Mcleod, editor-in-chief at the Ginger Nuts Of Horror review site. Andrew Freudenberg. And so many others that I can't really mention here (and I could but, right now, I need sleep and I need to update this entry before the end of the month ...and it's nearly the end of the month). Whew.

l-r: Justin 'J.R.' Park, head honcho at The Sinister Horror Company, me, Jim Mcleod, editor-in-chief & reviewer at the eponymous Ginger Nuts Of Horror, and fellow author Andrew Freudenberg.

l-r: Pugnacious Press authors and Deadflicks podcasters Pippa and Myk Pilgrim.

Note that for such an event, hugging is par for the course. That said, given the pandemic we're currently in the midst of, not everyone feels comfortable with that (despite many of us being double-vaccinated against COVID-19, testing negative in lateral flow tests before and after the convention, etc). Some are okay to hug. Some opt for handshakes, if that - and some will go for a fist bump or elbow touch. As a hugger by nature (and Phil Sloman will know all about The Art Of Hugging), I'll hug - but I'll also respect boundaries of those who won't. Time with the usual suspects was mixed with time with new connects; Liliana Carstea, for example. Having done Daniel Braum's (virtual) NY Ghost Story Festival last winter, I got to meet her at last; as I did Chrissey Harrison. As a Kelley Armstrong forum alumni, we share common history.

Most of the time I spend at a convention is me lounging in the bar. Out of the three days, the Friday was mostly meet and greet. Saturday was mixed with me doing readings and panels, including Saturday's late-night Tales In The Dark, which is what it says on the tin. With nothing but the light of a device, e.g. mobile phone to read a story from, these stories read in the dark really add to the proceedings - just like when you go to the cinema, films are screened in the dark. Thanks to Kit Power for bringing it together, and reads from Charlotte Bond, David Watkins, Chrissey Harrison, et al. for representing. Sat in the dark room in a warm hotel for two hours wiped me out - which continued well into Sunday afternoon, which saw me slumped in armchair and sofa in the hotel lounge until it was time to get the train back. Yes, I missed the award ceremony (which is how FantasyCon is rounded off). But for once, I just wanted to get back in my house ASAP.

All in all, it was a damned good weekend with my tribe. That, too, is par for the course.

#fantasycon #bfs #horror #fantasy #coronavirus #pandemic #gnoh #gingernutsofhorror #sinisterhorrorcompany #kelleyarmstrong

Machinery.

As I'm writing this, it's near the end of August. I'm reflecting on the mechanics of bringing work to the audience - my work, to be specific. All in various stages. Stuff partly written. Stuff written but in desperate need of a clean-up. Stuff already cleaned up, but needing more clean-up (yes, I know). Stuff currently sat with publishers. Stuff sat with publishers, already sold, and with time counting down to the publication date. As things currently stand, I've got work that might publish as early as Halloween this year. And as late as Halloween next year ...for work that was sold before this year.

Of course, apart from me telling you this - like here - you won't know any of that. Just what and when my last publication was. And that's okay.

One convo of late with a fellow author notes my level/frequency of output. I wouldn't necessarily say it was great volume, but I'm mindful to keep the work moving. The more writing I do, the more work I have available to shop around, and the more likely I am to sell something that much sooner.

Which means more of the good stuff to engage the audience with. Wow them; hopefully scare the shit outta them.

Back when I was a kid in primary school, there was an image on a poster that stuck with me. There's a machine set up to peel a banana, but it's stopped mid-peel. A monkey's hanging upside, seemingly asleep, by his tail - which is wrapped around the handle that works the machine. The caption? "Ideas don't work unless we do." As a writer, the same principle applies; consistent and regular graft for the output.

Earlier forays into writing with professional intent were to land as many short stories as quick as possible. With short stories, as opposed to novellas and novels, they take less time to write. Less time to edit. Less time to shop around and get a response on. Ultimately less time to sell. Back then, I wrote based on what publishers asked for in open calls, 'we're looking for this story, we're looking for that story.' An evolution of mindset now means I write the stories I want to write and when I want to write them - rather than waiting for an invitation. Which means I'm 'always writing' and often have something ready to sell should a publisher be in the market for something. All part and parcel of Game 101.

Having sold a number of short stories and built a small body of work meant I could then turn focus to longer fiction; at least, novellas. Work with my name on the cover. Which is a great personal lift to see your work in the marketplace, getting its props. My earliest foray into writing in the genre was novels. Then it was short fiction. And then novellas. By the time I came back around to novels again, I realised I'd evolved - and the previous approach for writing a novel didn't work. So that had to evolve too. As a result, the machinery around how I handle all my work, from short stories to novels, has also evolved. More audacious and daring ideas - evolving from earlier efforts - need more time to plot and outline. And research; let's not forget research. And the writing, editing, beta work - both for me and by me, submitting, promoting.

But the business of publishing can be slow, regardless. Here's the process, simplified:

Write something.

Edit it.

Send it to a publisher.

Get it sold to publisher.

Work on prepping book for release (e.g. cover art, story notes, etc).

Promote book release (before, during, and after).

ALL of those stages take time. Which is fair enough - that's the nature of the beast. But, how much time? From experience, I've written work which has taken YEARS to see print from when a publisher first accepted it, let alone when I first wrote it. A lot can change in just ONE year. Your mindset can evolve. So can your craft. For someone like me who writes stories which are mostly based in the capital, the city can change, too. With a handful of exceptions, most of my work is not only based in London, but around a specific area or areas - and certainly around a specific time. Don't believe me? Look at any one of my stories. If it's based in London, you'll probably see the story starts with a location as well as a date and time; which is most likely when it was written. That said, stuff I'm writing now is based just before the pandemic - but that's a stylistic choice, more than anything. By pinning locations, dates and times to stories, it actually keeps the narrative fresh, instead of having the audience think it's current and then having it come off as dated.

The good thing is, at least for now, that you should (in theory) see a more consistent output from me, as a result of more fluid and cohesive machinery. Of course, some things are partly beyond my control, such as when a publisher will accept my work (assuming they do), let alone when they publish it. So, all going well, I'll be scaring the shit outta you more often.

#writing #pandemic #game101

Not For Covidiots

One disclaimer upfront for the Covid deniers, anti-maskers, anti-vaxers and Covidiots: this commentary isn't for you. Feel free to mute, block, unfollow me; you don't even need to tell me. For those that don't, there's a point to this monologue.

Back to the matter.

For the uninitiated, I'm from London. Never mind the Bajan (meaning from Barbados) heritage, I'm from London. Born and raised in the capital and proud of. Scenery, restaurants, entertainment, ethnic and cultural diversity, the young, old and in-between, the straight, the gay, those in-between, etc. etc. etc. you get the idea. Man, I could go on - I love this city. It's home. No matter where I fly to in the world, it's always a great feeling to touch down back at Heathrow Airport. The capital is home territory.

And as of Monday 19th July 2021, our Prime Minister, Boris Johnson has further eased/lifted lockdown measures for the current coronavirus (COVID-19) pandemic. Which some have referred to as Freedom Day.

I call it stupid. Ill-advised, at best. Dangerous, at worst.

Even if I hadn't had both vaccine jabs, I'm hardly the least at risk. No major health issues I'm aware of (regular exercise, balanced diet and doctor check-ups help with that). But I'll still be wearing my mask, practising social distancing, regularly washing my hands. By the way - I've not forgotten there's a point to this entry. I'm getting there.

One of the things I do is keep an eye on the R-number infection data the government publishes weekly on its website. In simple terms, if the R number is more than 1, the infection is growing. If the R number is less than one, the infection is shrinking. The UK consists of England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland. I keep an eye on the England figures; London, in particular.

https://www.gov.uk/guidance/the-r-value-and-growth-rate

And because I check this weekly, I've seen where figures have shown the R number trending in the wrong direction. Currently as I write this, the R number in London has been 1.2 to 1.4 for the past few weeks. Now, I assume that the government has been looking at additional data that prompted them to ease lockdown measures almost completely. But as for the COVID-19/R-number data, I don't see how it's a smart decision. I do see how easing lockdown measures while the infection is still growing will let it grow and spread even further. Given that the U.S. under the Trump administration saw a damn-near biblical body count as a result of mishandling the pandemic, for America's CDC to issue this warning is a damning indictment of how the pandemic is being handled here:

https://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/americas/us-politics/cdc-uk-covid-warning-level-b1886790.html

I give it until the end of August at the latest before lockdown measures are tightened in England.

The so-called 'Freedom Day' saw the lifting of restrictions such as how many people from how many households can meet. Bars and restaurants can open fully, not just al fresco. Nightclubs can open. Best of all, our PM Boris Johnson is leaving the use of masks (which was lax before July 19th) up to the discretion of the public although, as London mayor Sadiq Khan has reiterated, masks are still mandatory on public transport. For those who I see not wearing masks on public transport, I'm pretty sure the majority of them don't have an underlying health issue that warrants them doing so.

What's ironic to me is that the Covid deniers, anti-maskers and anti-vaxers, by their very nature, are the ones who are helping to perpetuate the infection and keep it around longer (or, for the Covid deniers, they're the ones ultimately encouraging the government to maintain that fiction). Again, let me stress that (thankfully) even without being vaccinated, I'm least at risk. So while our PM Boris Johnson leaves things like mask wearing up to the public's discretion, all he's really doing is showing how spineless and irresponsible he is.

And here's the point:

I love this city. But I don't want it where the pandemic is still a clear and present danger to the city and everyone in it. Stories I write usually feature London as a character, but they've yet to feature the pandemic. That's an aesthetic choice more than anything - to show you the rich and diverse landscape without it being reduced to a ghost town. When I get back to the likes of bars, restaurants, live music, etc. I want to do it with the pandemic as nothing more than a distant memory - not another lurking horror ready to step to centre stage at a moment's notice.

That's the point.

#covidiot #covid19 #pandemic #lockdown #london #ilovelondon