At BristolCon - 2018 edition

Apologies for any blurriness in the images. All of these were taken either at short notice, with an unsteady and extended hand, or in poor lighting conditions. Also, due to quality concerns, there are viewer images than I might have wanted.

All the way back in 2016, I wrote a post on a science fiction/fantasy convention in Bristol. Called BristolCon, it brings together the great and humble, and provides means for budding authors such as myself to see into the murky world of publishing and the mechanical side of writing. It also offers opportunities for the bookworm, art lover and niche fan for those who know where and when certain events take place. I've been there, and want to tell you all about it.

Introductions
To preface, my experience began with an Open Mike reading in that same venue to a small but gratifyingly positive audience. While no manuscript merited a repeat performance and only once did any overrun their five minute spot, I managed to get both laughs and applause with my WIP short story "The Exchange Clerks". Author Joanne Hall read an extract from one of her latest books, Gail Williams brought a short piece based around the myth of Calypso, and another author (Janet Edwards, I think) read a short piece called "Schroedinger's Datastick". Those are the stories that really stood out.It was a marvellous session. Highlights of the event as a whole included the threat of stuffed toy dragon Ivor threatening to burn us if we overran too much, and hilarious fiddling with the mike stand as it continually proved too short or too long, and once or twice came apart due to the adjustments. I solved it by plonking it on the table, pushing it down and rolling with it.

Panels

On the day, I arrived, I came in to listen to one of the opening ceremonies, the smaller one in Program Room 2. I then scuttled through to Program Room 1, catching the end of an excellent reading by Gaie Sebold. The panel, "Where Do I Begin", dealt with how and where authors began new projects, with occasional excursions into the writing process in general and how that is impacted by things such as deadlines. The panellists - Sebold, Adrian Selby, Kim Lakin-Smith and Dave Hutchinson - all had interesting and entertaining experiences to relate. The usual round of audience questions was given to the panel at around the 40 minute mark, including one from me about the difficulties of a project which may end up stalling for some time until you find a way round it. If that panel taught me anything, it's that my way of writing is pretty much in line with a combination of traits from that panel. We also all agreed that a story sometimes need an early concept axing in order for work to restart.

The next panel I attended in Program Room 2 was "A Many Headed Beast". Hosted by Williams, Tony Cooper, Janet Edwards, Rosie Oliver, Jason Whittle and Alicia Wanstall-Burke, it delved into the trials and tribulations of self-publishing, its pros and cons compared to standard publishing, and each author's experience. These included the heartfelt struggle by Alicia to get her work published, as her native Australia had no small presses for her book and she had to publish it via Britain with export to Australia. The talk was enlightening, encouraging and frightening at the same time. With the questions, I ended up putting a question more than one of us wanted answered; how people with certain issues - a propensity for anxiety in my case - could cope with the stresses of self-publishing and all its publicity and admin-based headaches. The session ended, then I had a natter with Janet which ended up giving me some useful tips and links for future research, and helped give me confidence that my approach of trying for both traditional and self-publishing routes.

The next panel I attended was after lunch, due to circumstances that I'll describe more fully below. In between all these I explored around the place. I found a copy of Battle Royale going from the Oxfam stall for a very low price, and I decided to give it a good home.  At 3 PM, I decided to attend the Program Room 2 panel "Here Be Dragons. And Yokai. And Tokoloshe. And Kupua...". The panel featured Nick Hembery, Zero Burgess-Foreman, Steve McHugh (who was just finishing a reading as I entered), and a good colleague Sarah Ash. The panel's subject was the use of other cultures outside the traditional Western European and Classical mythologies and folklore which dominate mainstream fantasy. It was an interesting exposure of how we often take things and use them without proper research or respect for their origins, and how you could count the number of mainstream products in the genre that managed to do it right on the fingers of your hands.

Book Launch: Seven Deadly Swords and Kingdoms of Elfin.

I'd initially not meant to attend this, but after my lunch break, it was raining and I was too far from many descent shops to just browse for an hour. So I went back and entered the Program Room 1 event, which was a dual book launch; Pete Sutton's Seven Deadly Swords, and Handheld Press's reprint of Sylvia Townsend Warner's fantasy anthology Kingdoms of Elfin.

During the launch, which I only saw about three quarters of, I managed to hear Sutton reading a long passage from his book, which I think is a fantasy novel which is split between the Medieval Crusades and modern times, tied together with some terrible event which took place during the former time period. The extract was drawn from this, with protagonist Raymond describing the terrible events of a skirmish between the Crusaders and the Saracens, in lots of gory detail. He has researched the period, of course, which allowed him to convey a sense of historical weight within the fantastical context. An alright book, although it didn't pull me enough to buy it.

The second book was quite different, from an author I'd never heard of. Sylvia Townsend Warner had a successful career as a writer outside the fantasy genre, but she contributed two works that have remained in genre consciousness. The first is the novel Lolly Willowes, and the second is a series of sixteen stories published in the 1970s towards the end of her life, collected into an anthology in 1977 after their serialisation in The New Yorker. This was Kingdoms of Elfin. Until now, it's been out of print and the rights resting in limbo. I didn't expect much, and I was blown away by the simultaneously light and scholarly approach to Fae culture. This won me over, and I bought a book in double-quick time.

The Art Room, and the Saga of the Misplaced Event
As with previous years, there is a dedicated room for the exhibition of art from several different artists, and a corner for smaller panel discussions which included an arts and crafts session. There were also workshops being conducted in other parts of the building, but I didn't find out about these due to problems with the program outlined below. In the art room were several exhibitors who merit a mention. Incidentally, all the photos were taken with permission from the exhibitors and are angled so that a general impression is given without giving enough detail for any potential copying.

The first artist I encountered during my initial recce was Rebecca Burke. A blogger and writer as well as an artist, her drawings are in black and white, and show an interesting combination of Dahl-style simplicity and a stark reality that struck me. I took a photo soon after my photographic efforts for the next stand.

The next artist I think needs a mention is Emma Ridley, though hers was the first stand I photographed. A tattoo and commercial artist, her work is both striking and entertaining. My photo captures several of her works, but there was one - the largest and one not currently available for sale or imprint - that I agreed not to photograph due to Emma's bad experience of a German tattooist plagiarising her work from a photograph.

The most colourful original stand I did was that of Gemma Beynon. I had encountered her in 2016, but it was only when she remembered herself that my previous session and my photos of her came back to my mind. Her artwork is extremely colourful, covering both the conventional and the surreal. I've photographed so as the capture the impression of the entire stall, which hopefully does justice to a fascinating exhibition.

The star of the art room for 2018 was an exhibition of work for Andrew Skilleter, an artist whose covers and other materials have defined people's vision of the classic Doctor Who. His tenure, between 1979 and 1994, covers the initial blossoming of the Doctor Who novelisation as something notable and respectable rather than a cash grab. In an age when repeats were rare and some serials were presumed lost or are truly lost to this day, these books become one of our only means of experiencing them. The work on display, which I got permission to photograph at a suitable distance, was stunning. It also included some artwork that unmistakably influenced some of the modern era stories and promotional art. Skilleter's influence on this quintessentially British science fiction series should not be underestimated by anyone.
I was going to attend a talk with Sarah and Zoe before their panel appearance, but I was the only one there. After some consultation - and the revelation that last year's 4-5 PM panel on the theremin had been put in the program by mistake. Allowances must be made, as the programs were put together and printed during the very very early morning. We decided as a body to reschedule in this panel for the vacant slot due to a lack of word of mouth compounded by the program being split into three separate parts as opposed to being a single booklet. In the meantime, we spent that free hour talking and talking and talking. My, so much talking. But better, I think, than sitting through a Program Room 1 panel on the use of religion in science fiction.

Happy Halloween Anime
This small group, headed by Zoe and Ash, looked at horror anime and manga, and how they created different types of horror from the land of the Rising Sun. From anime, Zoe brought to the group Shiki and Hellgirl. While I'd previously been quite dismissive of Shiki (written, which I didn't know until then, by the same author as Ghost Hunt), I saw that it was actually a highly nuanced and unsettling look at both Japanese traditions surrounding the undead, and humanity's varying reactions. The second anime, Hellgirl, emerged during the 1980s to shine a light on a culture of bullying and expectation which was causing rebellion in Japanese youth of the time. The premise of a young girl who grants a wish to drag someone's soul to hell while condemning the requester to the same fate has survived to this day, adjusting to new issues and social terrors.

From the manga side, Ash brought The Girl from the Other Side, creation of young mangaka Nagabe. The premise sees an affectionate tale of two beings from different worlds interacting, and the terrors and tragedies that ensue from their innocent relationship. The drawing style reflects both famous comic artists and - to my mind at least - the German impressionist movement exemplified by movies such as The Cabinet of Doctor Caligari. The second manga on the table was Yokai Rental Shop. Reminding me a little of Pet Shop of Horrors, it was about a man who ran a shop where yokai (Japanese monsters/spirits/ect.) were loaned out and could grant people's wishes, even if the fulfilment was not what they expected or wished for. Other manga mentioned included some works by Jouji Ito, and I Am Hero, a hybrid zombie-psychological horror which will test the reader's belief in the events taking place.

A recurring element from this talk was how Japanese horror invariably reflected the social anxieties of the time, and how these elements were nearly always lost upon their transition into Western media through remakes. Following this, we were able to compare notes, talk generally, we dissected what made a good horror anime, I chimed in with my scant knowledge to bring up works such as Monster and (in our earlier talk) Blood-C, and it eventually went into general talk about the medium. I'm glad I got Sarah's pleased look when I mentioned my familiarity with San Jushi (The Three Musketeers).

Day's end.
I had intended to attend a final panel that day, "Writing the Nonhuman", with Lakin-Smith, Gareth Powell, Dev Agarwal and Cheryl Morgan. But I was too tired for any more panels, so I joined Sarah and Zoe for some chill time in the hotel bar, which became more of a natter about every subject from anime criticism to advice and shared stories of authorian difficulties. I finally headed home after a long and energetic talk. So I left, and left with memories of a great event.

Swearing - Getting the Flipping Thing Right...

My current project has come to a point where I need to make a decision. It's a decision I faced while writing Crystal and Sin. The use of swearwords. Or profanities. Or cursing. Or whatever you choose to call it.

This article from Writer's Digest caught my attention when I was searching for advice on the subject. And I came to consider how swearing ends up being used, and where I hear it the most.

Some movies like to use it a lot. Like those created by Quinten Tarantino. Tarantino seems to use violence and swearing as a crude longhand for a character's struggles and warped worldview. The kind of thing another director might do with a single artistic contrast shot, or abstruse monologue. He also sometimes uses it as a joke, part of a network of black humour running through his work.

Ian Fleming's Bond novels make use of strategic swearing. Not the movies so much. The books, definitely. The first book alone has Bond quite candidly referring to deuteragonist and love interest Vesper Lynd as a "bitch". There are also other of his Bond series, such as Diamonds Are Forever, where our favourite spy can get quite colourful. And given the situations he's put through, I don't blame him. Here, the swearing is used to show that this normally cool and snarky character really is feeling it.

In The Burglar Diaries, a book that's basically the blackest of black comedies without meaning to be, swearing is used so much that it entirely put me off reading it after a few chapters. The whole style was so cynical that the swearing hit me very hard. I don't know the intent, but it had a similar effect to Tarantino's work; it acts as a medium that cuts down on descriptives, and is a weird kind of humour. The kind that is derived from the less blue and more polished work of Monty Python.

Swearing in all its forms can be either shocking or gratuitous. Mrs Weasley's famous words to Bellatrix during the final battle of The Deathly Hallows are so effective because swearing is barely used at all in the entire Harry Potter series. Cinema history was made by Rhett's infamous put-down from the finale of Gone with the Wind. John McCain brings the screen to a halt with his famous salutation to every villain in the series, even if later iterations lessen its impact.

I have a mixed opinion on the use of swearing. I have tried using it in my work, specifically Crystal and Sin. In there, I use it for the character Aiden to show his cynicism and bitterness, in addition to his slight instability. But my original draft had about twice as much swearing from him. My other characters also swear from time to time, and main lead Crystal swears strongly once when pushed beyond her emotional limits. I'm not that eager to use swearing, as I want my stories to be accessible and not rely on profanities to make something mature, which is something that happens. But I'm not above swearing myself, so I guess I don't practise what I preach...

I really enjoyed writing this, because it got me thinking. I hope it got you thinking too.

Crazy Idea; Opening Inversion

As part of my ongoing series of "Crazy Ideas", I've decided to tackle something slightly different. The opening of a fantasy story, with an idea that probably isn't that crazy when taking the entire genre into account, but still has very little place in the mainstream. Oh, and apologies about the title if anyone's offended by the terminology.

When I ask about fantasy worlds, what comes to mind about openings. Certainly in visual media movies and television, it's about a mysterious locations and the enigmatic character who may or may not be the main protagonist. The concept has been used so often that it's become something of a cliche in the genre, and spread across to other genres including science fiction, mystery/thriller. But can we trust it?

Here's my idea, or rather my vision.

You're in a woodland setting, divided between two parts of the same forest. The two leads of this particular scene are walking with their faces hidden. They look somewhat similar, except for their clothing. One is slightly broader, wears trousers and armour, has a sword at their belt, and close-cropped hair. One clearly as longish hair, is slimmer in build, and walks with a delicacy you don't expect from the average traveller. One is a knight, one is a mage, both are on the same mission.
The knight's name is Aileen, and the mage's is Franco. To use modern terms, she's butch, and he's girly. But we don't know that until the last second, when we first see them. 

And in this one scene, a standard expectation is thrown out the window. Our expectations, as set up by countless movies and games that have used stereotypical physiques for male and female roles (even Cassandra from the Dragon Age universe is notably slim when compared to other female knights in that universe), are subverted.

Like the article's title suggests, this is just a crazy idea, and a fairly weak foundation for most stories without a lot more thought and fleshing out. How many times have you just flipped physique and gender roles out of frustration?

Minor Updates and Random Thoughts

This week's been somewhat of a drag due to a terrible bug. And during the weekend I went to a wonderful volunteer event, and and the end of next month I'll be going to BristolCon 2018. So here's a bit of a quick rundown of what's happened since the beginning of July.

Recently finished proofreading the second volume of The Leviathan Chronicle, and updated the text of the current volume with new corrections. Despite recent changes caused by the merger of Kindle and CreateSpace , I'll hope to still publish during the final months of this year.

Finished my latest project, a sci-fi take on Dumas's immortal tale The Count of Monte Cristo, but with less nobility and more honesty about what people really do when they're driven by pure vengeance. Hope to get down to a proper proofread soon.

Started two new and promising projects. One a fantastic thing with a non-human cast and a light tone, and the other my own contribution to Lovecraftian lore with my own particular twists. Figurative and otherwise.

Completed a promising short story based on my recent interesting reading of "We Purchased People". Hope it goes down well if/when people see it.

Cleaned up myself by editing out milk, which has been causing unnecessary mood swings impacting my writing and productivity.

Hope I'll have something a little larger for you all next week. Have a good week!

What is a productive day?

A question that can get raised about authors is "how much writing makes a productive day"? This question can be a prickly issue as many authors may not like discussing their working habits, or whatever stimulants are used to fuel the creative maelstrom.

My personal work regime is this. Up and assess my condition, then to the computer to start up and check email. Then do writing throughout the day broken by other activities such as computer-based leisure, walks out, housework, and of course eating and drinking to keep myself from falling over. Through all this, on good days, I can manage between three and five pages. On bad days, such as when I'm distracted or not feeling myself, that comes to two pages. On very good days I can be upwards of seven pages. My stimulants are limited to tea, and then only three or four cups in a day so I don't send myself into a tizzy.

My writing day can vary. It can be over and done in a morning, drag on until the wee small hours, or be finished between the classic 9-5 working day. This is my routine for six days in the week, with Saturdays being days off. And of course I take days off when I'm really under the weather, such as down with a bad bug or in too much pain from some injury or other to focus properly. I also sometimes need to rest my hands. Typing is hard on the hands.

Personally, I consider three pages of writing, or one chapter of proofreading, a productive day. The writing averages out to between 1000 and 2000 words. Without large interruptions, I can complete a full-scale novel in about half a year or less. I did once set myself an interesting challenge; write one chapter every three days until the book was completed. And I succeeded. It was a very long book, with each chapter between ten and twelve pages on average, and it had quite an engaging story for my 2014 period. Though it was rambling, and I now consider it in need of a complete rewrite before being published anywhere.

Things do ebb and flow, depending on whether I accidentally eat or drink something for which I have an intolerance. Sometimes that can last a day or two, sometimes it can last weeks or even months. It's been hard, but I think I'm walking the right path.

What are your working habits?

The "Non-" Human Problem

A while back, I wrote a post about future projects. Out of them all, I decided upon the one I referred to as "strange blend of sci-fi and fantasy" revolving around pirates. I got into writing the third draft of the first chapter when I made a decision. I didn't want to write another story revolving around human protagonists in a science fantasy world. I wanted something different. And since I've always had a soft spot for canine/lupine characters in fiction, I decided upon that; a world where the dominant species are humanoid lupine creatures called the Okaru.

This gave me much liberation, but also presented multiple problems. I'll do the problems first.



Problem A: They're not human. Obvious, but still a problem. So using human pronouns in a world without humans as a reference is asking for trouble. This extends to terms like "mankind" or "humankind", but also less obvious ones like gender nouns. Using "he" and "she" can't really be avoided if you want to avoid rampant confusion. But unlike a previous experiment with this, using "male" and "female" seems too clinical for what I want to do with this story.

Problem B: Making it both relatable and alien. This compounds and is compounded by the above problem. You need to use some terms because otherwise you risk leaving the reader completely at sea. Conversely, using several terms from the human world can help with translation, but use them too much and the illusion of otherness is broken. Striking the balance between the fantastic and the mundane is something any fantasy or sci-fi writer worth their salt has needed to come to terms with at some point.

Problem C: They're not human, physically. Having these non-humans running around means you need to create something that's not the strictly ape-based bipedal form humans have had for so many millions of years. But the general fiction-reading public is still having a hard time grasping the wilder aspects of the non-human. As proved in Star Trek, Star Wars, Avatar, and virtually every other popular sci-fi story, humanoid characters not only provide easy roles for human actors, but allow viewers to empathise. Some stories such as Solaris and The Uplift War break this mould, but have human or humanoid characters to balance that out. My aim with this story was to create characters who couldn't be played by people in suits and masks.


And now for this story's liberations!


Liberation A: Gender noun freedom. Yes, I earlier cited this as a problem. But it also liberates me from the restrictive letter box style of the English language when it comes to gender. It very much limits based on sight and sound of voice. Someone can changed from he to she or she to he, but what about those who don't identify as either? There are terms for such people in languages other than English, but they haven't actually carried over. Dropping human gender nouns allowed me to substitute them with versions that sound alien, but are based on an existing language other than English. This also provided me with a word that covered people who didn't identify as either. For these people, as suggested by my sister, I used the terms "them" and "they". There is also a better understanding an tribal-style acceptance of these people within Okaru society.

Liberation B: Characters with more potential. As its a non-human society, the world of the Okaru is in some ways less restrictive than our human world. While it has a real-world base (the late 16th to early 17th century period known as the Golden Age of Piracy, where following the Seven Years War, Britain had become the dominant naval world in the world) it needn't follow real-world history too closely. This means it can use an established structure for characters to grow in or rebel against without too many of the usual restrictions. Just so long as it doesn't resort to the get-out of pulling stuff out of thin air. For instance, my lead is a pirate on a mission independent from the usual pirate fraternity, while her antagonist is a military leader determined to wipe out piracy.

Liberation C: Commentary opportunities. Something about the Okaru is that they are distinguished by their fur rather than the human equivalent of skin and hair colour. This offers opportunities to use the Okaru equivalent of ethnicities while also creating striking images for the main characters that the reader can hold in their minds. This gives opportunities for commentary in aspects such as stereotyping and even racism in a context safer than using actual humans. Still hot topics, but with a slight buffer zone allowing them to be an introduction for younger readers.


That's really all I'm prepared to say about my new project for the moment. I hope it can be read someday. And I hope you enjoyed reading about it.

Review - Short Story - We Purchased People

In recent days, I've been acquainting myself with some of the classic science fiction present in our family bookshelves. Among them is a large volume of short stories written by masters of the craft. The one that caught my eye was "We Purchased People" by Frederik Pohl. I read it, and it's not one I can keep to myself.

The premise is a world where humanity is in trade with several different alien races. As FTL travel doesn't yet exist, this trade is done via advanced communication technology which allows the various species to exchange information for various trinkets and resources from Earth. Their agents are the dregs of humanity, implanted with technology that allows their "owners" to control them for any length of time. The protagonist is one such "purchased person", a man whose past is extremely shady and whose life is quickly thrown into utter chaos due to the innocent inquisitiveness of his owners.

This story isn't the typical sci-fi fare. It doesn't shy away from extremely mature subject matter, yet doesn't have a single severe expletive in it. The main character is the most extreme type of anti-hero, if any term including the world "hero" can be used for him. He's sullen, twisted, and his suffering doesn't elicit any sympathy at all. This is an analysis of how the cast-offs of humanity are used for some purpose.

On the whole, I would recommend this to true sci-fi connoisseurs. It's well-written, and has an interesting and twisted take on human-alien relations. It also shows up many elements of human prejudice and reminds one of some of the more disturbing elements of mental programming experiments from the 20th century. And yes, this story was written after people became fully aware of the CIA's Project MKUltra.

10/10