"One-Tenth of One Percent" in M-Brane SF #17

M-Brane SF #17 has been released to the wild.

One of my longer shorts to date, "One-tenth of One Percent" can be found within. Rather appropriate for Memorial Day, it features a few members of the armed services as secondary characters. If you drop me an email or direct message me on Twitter, I'll tell you the story's original title.

Also included in this issue is a lengthy piece from Jason Sizemore of Apex fame and some other delicious tidbits. Thanks to Chris Fletcher for taking a chance with the story; he always puts together a nice mag, and I'm happy to have something sci-fi enough to make an issue.

Head over and check it out.

(and if you happen to read "One-Tenth of One Percent", I'd love to hear your thoughts...good, bad, or otherwise)

I've Been Evicted from the Man Cave

True. My sister-in-law is living with us for the summer, doing an internship in speech/language pathology at a local retirement community, and she's living in the Man Cave.

*sigh*

So my new "writing area" is the dining room table with an old laptop from school. Maybe it has some ghosts I can take advantage of...

In other, happier news:

In the category of Cate Gardner clued me in: "The World in Rubber, Soft and Malleable", while not making the top ten in the storySouth Million Writers Award, Jason Sanford has posted his short list, and well...I'm humbled to see "Malleable" included. I need to write more stories like that, eh?

"Ranching the Sleore" is definitely not a story like that...but Comet Press released the TOC for their forthcoming Sick Things anthology a couple weeks ago. Looks like a nasty line up. And by nasty I mean good...in an anthology of extreme creature horror, anyway.

Okay, I feel better. (miss you, Man Cave)

Why I'm Glad It's Saturday

"Cookies" is posted at Every Day Fiction. I could have predicted the response. No, it isn't a story for "everyone".

Hammer away, folks. At least it's Memorial Day Weekend and I won't have to face that much abuse.

Five Question Friday: Sue London

1. If you couldn't write, how would you spend the time you now use for writing?

Based on how I avoid writing it seems like the answer is spending time online. Then there is also doodling, reading, gaming, and playing with pets. Oh wait, was the answer supposed to be "solving world hunger"? Yeah, I'd do some of that. And cure cancer and stuff. There would be time to do all sorts of things if I didn't stare at a blank white screen with a blinking cursor. It's like starring in the one-woman play For Whom the Cursor Blinks.

2. What do you think makes a good story?

At first I was going to say it depends on the story, but then I realized the underlying answer is - it needs to be true to itself. I think that's why fiction has naturally evolved into various genres because we like to know what we're getting into so that we can enjoy the ride. Meanwhile, stories that completely change tempo or style in the middle of them drive me crazy. I'm not talking about the ones that obviously have a variable rhythm, I'm talking about the ones where I think to myself "ah, this is where they started getting pressured for deadlines and threw in everything including the kitchen sink." Contrariwise, I also hate stories that are completely formulaic in their relationships, plot, and pacing. So, um, something pure or authentic that is neither chaotic or rote.

The biggest thing that resonates for me personally in stories are values (like honor, love, family, etc.). And for me character is more important than plot or setting. I'm related to some people who prefer either plot or setting which is the only reason I'm even AWARE that those could be that important to anyone. Ever. Seriously? Ok, fine, if you like it... Where was I? Oh, and obviously I love, love, LOVE humor and a clever turn of phrase.

3. Why are manhole covers round?

I shouldn't be telling you this but the real answer is because of our sea lion overlords. They slip from street to street, town to town, keeping an eye on us to make sure that we continue being productive little monkeys. Haven't you ever noticed those holes are just perfectly sea lion sized? But keep quiet that you know about it because they don't take kindly to our interference.

4. If I could read a diary of one of your characters, what would I learn about him/her?

Day four on the planet. Kayla is still jumpy and keeps her gun close. She says that we're on Charis but I'm not sure I believe her, no one who's gone near that place has been heard from again. But I've never seen so much life as what there is here. Everywhere I look there are plants and animals. And water. By the gods, so much water, I didn't know this much existed. Kayla doesn't seem bothered by it all so it must be true that the Kainu world is more like this. I find myself longing for the deserts of home where I could see forever in all directions. In a desert a man feels safe.

Did you learn anything? I learned that Kyzar from The Far Side of Utopia is a lot more anxious about the constant noise and pressure of the jungle that I'd realized. Apparently I should read his diary more often, too.

5. If you could be a superhero, what would you want your superpowers to be?

I would want my superpower to be a Good Vibe, the ability to put everyone around me into a joyful and peaceful mood. I mean, seriously, how much evil can an evil-doer get up to when they're having too much fun hanging out with you? One day they have some sort of world domination plan and the next thing they know they're waking up next to my pool with a paper umbrella stuck in their hair wondering where it all went wrong but not entirely caring because I just called everyone in to watch cartoons and suddenly it sounds like THE BEST THING EVER. World peace through laughter, that's the ticket.

Sue London is a writer and cartoonist who has spent an obscene amount of time in the business world being all businessy. She fell in love with the first guy who saw her reading Beowulf and said "that's my favorite epic" so now they're married with two dogs, three cats, and some great friends. You can find her online at twitter (twitter.com/cmdrsue), her personal blog (cmdrsue.blogspot.com), and her writing blog (bysuelondon.blogspot.com). She also loves to interview new and upcoming authors on Writing Insight (writinginsight.blogspot.com). Sue writes all sorts of different things on her writing blog and if you like flash fiction you might enjoy the fantasy piece "Blood Will Tell." (http://bysuelondon.blogspot.com/2010/04/blood-will-tell.html). Shannon McKenna complimented Sue on her "smooth, polished writing" which she likes because it sounds like a pretty stone you can put in your pocket and carry around for good luck.

WIP Wednesday: More Fistfights, Please

I put the lid on a short story yesterday which, among other things, involved a girl watching her father crush an old man's throat with his booted foot. Needless to say, the father didn't know his daughter was watching. Yes, it was rather a dark little tale.

Currently, I'm revising my not-so-top-secret novella, and I've decided I need more fistfights. At least one more, to get the action rolling.

Maybe the hint of one is enough:

“Amanda.” The woman’s blue eyes burned into Isherwood’s gaze. She had a fire inside, blue like ice but sharp as a barber’s razor—he could see the cutting blade in that glare. “Amanda Reaver.”

Lawton pulled on his chin. “Jesus. You’re Reaver’s—”

“Daughter. Yes.”

“And he’s in the stockade for—”

“Decking me in public?” She pointed to her bruised eye. “That’d be the one.”

Nobody ever said Abraham Reaver was a nice man.

What I Write: A Play in Three Acts*

*inspired by KV Taylor's comment to yesterday's post: "Don't get me wrong, selling out is great. But if we cared that much about being famous, we'd write more crowd-pleasing fiction by design."

Act 1: Summer, 2007

Me: I think I'm going to try and write a book.

Other: Okay. Have fun.


Act 2: Winter, 2008

Me: I sold my first short story!

Other: Great! You said, "sold". So how much are they paying you?

Me: A penny a word. It's a 2,100 word story.

Other: (face contorted with calculation) That's $21 bucks.

Me: Yeah.

Other: How long did you spend writing the story?

Me: (mumbles, shuffles off stage)


Act 3: Last Week

Me: I sold a book!

Other: Sold? (Stephen King dollar signs appear in Other's eyes) For how much?

Me: Well, I'm making a decent royalty on each copy sold. No advance. But I'm telling stories. I'm telling the kind of stories I like to read. And...well, those stories are kind of strange.

Other: So...you won't be getting rich? Famous? What about that cabin in the mountains?

Me: This isn't about a cabin in the mountains. This isn't about fame. This is about telling the truth and telling stories.

Other: (mumbles, shuffles off stage)

-End-

Katey has a way of making my brain work overtime, even in blog comments.

What is a Writer's Worst Enemy?

It's not a bad review. It's not writer's block, either. (I don't believe in "writer's block", anyway. It's called "time to take a nap".)

How about obscurity?

Cory Doctorow might agree, and he's a helluva lot more well-known than me (and more talented, too). Yeah, Doctorow is speaking of making money, but we are talking about writers here, and I'd argue obscurity is any writer's worst enemy. (At least tied for first with hubris, but that's another blog entry.) Writers want their work to be read; even if you "give" someone a story for free, they are paying you with their time, so yeah. Every read is a "sale" in my book. And if you're too damn obscure, who can find your stuff, anyway?

How to fight obscurity? God, I wish I knew. I've been publishing stories for a few years now and a few folks (love ya) read my stuff regularly. Thanks. Building a reader base takes time...it's not like you can throw a free novel up on the web and land a six figure deal. (If you do, please tell me how, okay?)

I've mentioned my "biggest day" (in terms of page loads) here at the blog occurred when I got caught in a brouhaha regarding a little bit of snark (from yours-truly) and a lot of fallout. I'm not going to take that path to, er, "stardom". I'll keep the snark in my back pocket from now on. I'd rather be a nobody than infamous, any day.

But...does an author need a big ticket book advance to "spend" his/her way out of obscurity? Could you if you tried? How about stupid pet tricks on Youtube? Posting reviews under false names at Amazon? Doing a cross-over rap album with a zombified Tupac?

How did you hear about your favorite author(s) (who may not be well known to the public at large)?

Well, in the name of keeping it positive, I thought I could do a few interviews and pimp some authors here at my bit o' the web. Cate Gardner had something going for a while called "Somebody Else Saturday". I liked it enough to almost steal it...

If you're an author interested in answering five relatively benign questions, drop me a line at aaron_polson(at)hotmail(dot)com. The questions will be randomly drawn from a collection of interview questions my students wrote for various class projects. How's that for inspired? Or crazy?

Maybe I'll call it "Five Question Friday with ______".

Print Will Always Be Undead

I don't usually post twice in a day, especially on a Friday, but JA Konrath wrote a cute little "play" about the death of print. You can read it at the Huffington Post.

Remember folks, Konrath is here to sell books. He makes money selling books. He makes his living writing and selling books. And yes, he's doing well.

But he's still here to sell you books, and he doesn't give a shit if you buy a paperback or an e-version of his latest. Wait...maybe he does. I think the profit margin on e-books is better. But I digress...

Print is obsolete?

Hardly.

The aforementioned "play" is full of implied comparisons which fall apart under any real scrutiny. Just look at the other members of "Obsolete Anonymous": VHS tapes, LPs (which are actually making a bit of a comeback), cassettes, the Phone Company, CDs...

All of which require a piece of technology to decode content. Print isn't the same (except for e-books...but I'll get to that momentarily). What is the technology that decodes text content? Don't say the printing press, 'cause that's not quite it. Go on. Think about it.

Try.

I'll wait...

It's your brain. That ugly lump of grey matter in your skull. It decodes the marks on paper (or a screen) and makes sense of them, not some kind of device, player, or receiver. Print books aren't the same as the other "obsolete" technologies because our brains are always going to be there. People will still read print. Two hundred years from now, a person can find a book in a hermetically sealed plastic bag, and the book will still be readable. Sure, said person may struggle with a few changes in syntax and spelling, but he/she can decode it without a special device. A CD in two hundred years will be a worthless lump of plastic because the technology needed to decode it is gone. And a Kindle file won't even exist (digital dark age, baby).

Print books are not the same as CDs, LPs, VHS, etc. because they don't require special, dated technology to decode and enjoy.

Yes, more people will have e-readers in the future.* Yes, there may be a shift in publishing and the print book industry. Yes, more books will go to print on demand. These things happen. Um, don't you think the shift to readily available and cheaper pulp paper made a difference to the print publishing industry in the last century? These things happen and the world has a way of changing rather quickly.

Our brains, unfortunately do not. Go on predicting the "death of print". I'll still be reading ink on paper when I'm eighty.

*anybody care to talk about how the consumer is being fleeced on this one? Instead of the old model (buy content and decode myself), we are rushing headlong into a model like the music industry or movies (buy content and buy a device--which will one day become obsolete--to decode content for me). Hey, but somebody's getting rich, right?

It's just not me.

Virtual Buildling Blocks

I've started hammering together a site for Loathsome, Dark, and Deep--http://www.loathsomenovel.com/ Yes, I'm hosting at Blogger. Yes, I'm doing it because it's easy. I hope to have sites for my other forthcoming books soon, but these things always take more time than they should, especially for a slacker like me.

Speaking of slack, I knocked out the end of my novella/novelette project yesterday, and feel the need for a writing vacation.

...

Okay, the vacation's over. I have a few short stories I want to chisel out before heading into the revision forest.

Have a lovely weekend.

*Edited to add: I've just updated the site for The Saints are Dead--http://www.saintsaredead.com.

WIP Wednesday: Guns and Ammo Edition

For the record, I have given 'em both barrels once. One of my long-time buddies has a double-barrel, Granny Clampett style 20 gauge shotgun with dual triggers. Even though it was a 20 gauge (a smaller shell), the damn thing nearly tore my arm off at the shoulder.

This:


Is not a shotgun. It's a Sharps Model 1874 "buffalo" rifle. The caliber on this bad boy starts at .40 (which means the barrel opening is 4/10ths of an inch in diameter and, by extension, the size of the cartridge used in the gun) with many models in the .45-.50 range. Cartridges (the bullet, gunpowder, and primer all packed inside a metal case) were around four inches in length. That's a sizable weapon, folks.



And you needed one to take down this (if you were a buffalo hunter in the late 1800s):

Yes, the American Bison (the state animal of Kansas). Too bad the undead versions don't go down with a single head shot.

And that's all you need to know about my WIP. Have a good one.

Give 'em Both Barrels

Remember when I started Loathsome, Dark, and Deep and said I was writing with the small press in mind? I do.

Well, the wonderful Jodi Lee at Belfire Press has given the thumbs up to the book for publication late this year (tentatively November 2010).

Me: stoked. I love Loathsome, Dark, and Deep. It was a helluva good time to write, and I'm thrilled the world (at least those who so choose) will be able to read it.

But wait, I said give 'em both barrels, right?

Okay...the magnificent Cynthia Reeser with Aqueous Books also made an offer to publish a collection of my less-horrific work. The Saints are Dead, a collection of eighteen previously published and new stories will be out in 2011. (Lookie, my name is already under the In Support of Our Authors section on the left-hand side of their site.)

Me: double stoked, which is awfully close to having a heart attack, for the record. So yeah. I have some promotion to do.

And some panicking.

Monday Pimpage: Dark Pages volume 1

My contributor copy of Blade Red's Dark Pages (volume 1) arrived on Friday, and it's pretty. The stories are pretty (in a dark sort of way, of course), the cover is pretty, and I'm pretty stoked to be part of the project. Thanks to editor Brenton Tomlinson for finding my short-short "Cargo" worthy of this line up:

"The Stain of the Psychopomp King" by Lucien E G Spelman
"Heart Of Ice" by Martin Livings
"Neptune’s Garden" by Lisa A Koosis
"Dust" by Naomi Bell
"To Die For" by S D Matley
"The Franchise" by Joe L Murr
"Clip Notes" by Marty Young
"Blood on Green" by Victoria Anisman-Reiner
"Cargo" by Aaron Polson
"Nepenthe" by Felicity Dowker
"Yellow Water Pike" by Derek Rutherford
"Surveying The Land" by B D Wilson
"Nightwork" by Robert Neilson
"Hand And Cradle" by Trent Roman

You can grab a copy for just under ten bucks at Amazon.com or seven GBP at Amazon.co.uk.

I have other news bits I'm bursting to share...later this week. Promise.

Flashback Friday, with Bonus Fiction #fridayflash

I did a little house cleaning this week. Exciting times. From a September 1986 Weekly Reader...Giant Sharks, Soviet Circus Couples, and a Rambo reference...

Man, how time flies. I was eleven when I read those articles for the first time. My students weren't alive when the Soviet Union was a country. But giant sharks...giant sharks are still scary as hell. (click the picture to enlarge and read if you're so inclined)

And a tiny bit o' fiction (a once-upon-a-time accepted story who lost its market):

"Busted"

Victor arrived home from the adult learning center with a sculpted bust.

“What’s that supposed to be?” His wife pointed and sneered.

“Frankenstein’s Monster.”

She laughed. His face blushed red, and he thought of cracking her with the sculpture.

Later, when he learned of her infidelity with the UPS man, she laughed louder.

He blushed again, but this time, he smashed her skull with the bust of Frankenstein’s Monster.

She lay on floor, arms splayed, lifeless. To hide the body, he thought, I’ll do like Frankenstein with the monster, only backwards. He shuffled to his shop for a saw.

Have a lovely weekend.

The Ecstasy and the Agony

So I received a great bit of news yesterday in the ol' in box. I replied...then woke to a "Delivery Status Notification (delay)" this morning.

Ack!

I love you, Interweb^TM, but please...please do not toy with a writer's emotions so. I will be forced to unleash the power of fiction on your ass. (Oh, that's really a good idea, Aaron. Threaten the Interweb^TM.)

As you can see, I'm not thinking clearly today. So, other places to gain lucidity...

I found this interesting food for thought re: traditional publishing vs. self-publishing.

Speaking of food...

And finally, because this is what my other job is (and Taylor Mali is the cheese):



I hope so. I hope so.

WIP Wednesday: Secrets and Scares

Two WIPs today...

I'm chugging away on a "secret project" involving a man who wears his dead wife's teeth as a necklace. Don't worry--he didn't kill her. More later. Promise.

The second is a short story (on which I should slap "The End" today) called "Crushing on Mr. Nose":

Before first hour on the second day of school, Mr. Lutz picked his nose in the darkened office at the back of the classroom. Mandi Ferris and Libby Jenkins watched the whole, ugly affair. A new teacher at South, Lutz wore an ill-fitting button-down shirt—which did not flatter his bulging midsection—and brown plastic rimmed glasses which Mandi was sure, absolutely positive, her grandfather had donated in the cardboard box marked “charity” at the optometrist’s office. Lutz’s skin rivaled a potato worm in paleness—white and soft looking like the underbelly of a catfish Libby’s uncle made her touch during a camping trip when she was five. Her uncle was a freak that way.

Mr. Lutz was a freak in a different way.

“The worst part, absolute worst,” Libby said, scowling as though she’d eaten a fistful of raw lemon grass, “Is that the weird bastard lives across the alley from me.”

Mandi’s pug nose wrinkled. “Oh. My God. He’s probably some kind of perv. Probably watches you in the shower. Lutz butts. Let’s call him Mr. Nose.”

Try to get that image out of your head, eh? Libby certainly can't. (She even starts to scribble "Libby Lutz" in the margins of her notebook...WTF, right?)

Precious Metal in Albedo One #38

Albedo One #38, including my short-short "Precious Metal" is available for purchase at their website. Check out that gorgeous (and slightly provocative?) cover art.

And...WTF?

My name's on the cover? I'm honored--in this case, being an Irish mag, honoured.

(did I do that right?)

This is one of my many stories in which a premise from a children's book provided the seed for an imaginative romp. In this case, a romp through a junkyard in a post-apocalyptic world in which no one manufactures anything anymore. Leave it to tinkers like Santiago to make things work...

I'm looking forward to reading the interview with living legend James Gunn. (He teaches sci-fi at the University of Kansas here in Lawrence--funny I had to go across the Atlantic to be in the same mag.)

Happy St. Mother's Day

Max has started calling Mother's Day, Saint Mother's Day.

Mothers of the world, who also happen to be ladies, here you go:

Friday Cheats and Free Stories

Well...hopefully those of you who signed up for the newsletter received a free story in your inbox. If not, check the spam filter. I'm just getting the hang of this thing.

I switched mailing list managers after a few people struggled with the old system.

Such is life.

If you want to be on the list and want to skip the form, send me a message at aaron_polson(at)hotmail(dot)com and I'll add you manually.

Oh...and I finished draft one of Borrowed Saints yesterday. (yeah, I cheated and skipped the last chapter until I've read through it again...sue me)

Have a wonderful weekend.

Giant's Robes on a Dwarfish Thief

Neil Gaiman won the inaugural Author Blog Award for his use of Twitter recently, and to quote him:

“Use your blog to connect. Use it as you. Don’t ‘network’ or ‘promote.’ Just talk."

Now, like a number of fledglings, I want to be Neil Gaiman. No, not for the obvious reasons (fame, bestseller status, etc.). I want to be him for reasons which lie firmly in my control. I just want to be me. Just talk. Sometimes it seems hard, though.

The infamous Interweb^TM overflows with advice for fledglings on what to do with a blog, Twitter, Facebook...on and on. Giant's robes on a dwarfish thief, me being the thief. I've not read a thing which rings more true than Gaiman's simple "Just talk."

With all the focus on "Branding" a fledgling author can easily loose themselves. I labored too long to add a tag line to the flag at the head of the blog. Yeah, I write pulp, only it's not sawdust anymore, it's made of electrons. And fantastic horror? No, that doesn't mean fantastic as in great; I'm using fantastic in the grand, old-school Weird Tales tradition (Weird Tales of the 1930s, that is). Me? I'm a Bella Lugosi/Boris Karloff/EC comics from the '50s/Twilight Zone hybrid who was scared shitless by the slasher horror of the '80s when I grew up. I'm thirty-five and still afraid of the dark. I choke up when I read a really kick ass poem aloud, even in front of my class full of students. Sometimes I'm too introspective for my own good, and self doubt starts to entrench in the darker corners of my brain. I believe words hold power, even when they're cobbled together in a piece of pulp-fiction horror. I'm not ashamed to admit any of that. It's me.

Just talk.

I'll try.

WIP Wednesday: Finish Line? What Finish Line?

Borrowed Saints is now longer than my final, soon-to-be-published draft of The House Eaters. That being said, the book is still 4-5K away from completion (and that total doesn't include additional bits I need to add upon rewrite). Right now, it stands at 43K.

Phoebe's uncle, EG, signed her out of the psychiatric hospital, and on the drive home:

He hadn’t said a word since signing her out of the hospital.

Something about his face—she couldn’t quite place it, but something was wrong with EG’s face. The lines around his cheeks and nose had sharpened, become less the soft, rounded kindness of her burly uncle and become more angular and stern. She’d seen the look before, but couldn’t place it.

The hum of the engine and the tires against blacktop filled the cab of the truck until the sound joined with the chilly fear in her stomach and became something new. Something vile and wretched. “I think I’m going to be sick,” she said.

The EG-thing grunted.

Yeah...it's not really just her uncle in there anymore. Tomorrow, I blather on about "identity", and on Friday, I send out a free, unpublished story to my newsletter subscribers. Join the club, eh?

Revolution and Migration

First things first: can I have another weekend?

Our forensics (speech and drama) state competition was fun, but exhausting. One of my students "broke" into semifinals, the first time in years, so that was pretty cool. We're all dragging a bit today.

If you notice the page title, you'll realize I've changed the blog name. Well, do to the ease of updatage, I'm migrating my website to blogger. I'll keep the old http://www.aaronpolson.com/ domain, but I'm eventually going to have it redirected here. Until I can afford a professional web designer (right...like that will happen), blogger gives me the best options and customizability--especially with the new "pages" feature (my pages are listed under the title above). The pages allow me to free up a little of the sidebar, so each page doesn't look quite as cluttered. I'm doing the same with the Strange Publications' site (http://www.strangepublications.com/). The migration should be "complete" this week.

Borrowed Saints should be done this week, too. I won't hold my breath, but it's getting close. So close. I've just loaded the final reel...