Mythos Safety Matters

www.wallpapername.com

Vital that pedestrians heed clearly posted signs. An unseen mythos menace can often engulf the unwary citizen out for a summer evening stroll.

Heinlein's Five Rules for Writing

Science fiction ace Robert Heinlein composed these aids to crafting the written word  back in 1947:

1. You must write.
2. You must finish what you start.
3. You must refrain from rewriting except to editorial order.
4. You must put it on the market.
5. You must keep it on the market until sold.”

Then he added: “The above five rules really have more to do with how to write fiction than anything said above them. But they are amazingly hard to follow — which is why there are so few professional writers and so many aspirants, and which is why I am not afraid to give away the racket!” More on the subject here.

Publishing Update

www.authormedia.com

Insomnia pays! Couldn't sleep early this morning so instead of gnashing my teeth—which hurts—I got up and started writing. Dashed out almost two thousand words on eBook number one before heading to the gym.

So here's the update. I have rough outlines on three full-length novels. But I realize now I might only get one up on Amazon Kindle Direct by my deadline. I want three. So I'm parking all three books and devoting my efforts to expanding and publishing a long short story, Bane Fish. (First fiction work I ever sold.) That'll be book one.

The second book will be a collection of unpublished long and short stories that fall into the category of dark urban fantasy.

The third book will consist of my jury duty tale plus an expanded version of my 2002 trip to Vietnam in search of a battlefield.

Most of the material is already present in some form. (I always find it easier to rewrite than to write.) So I'm moving, typing, slugging down the joe.

This is going to happen! Will they make any money? Can't say, but they will be published!

The IndieTribe

The IndieTribe

Charlie Bray's website seems stuffed with interesting news, promotions and tips for the self-published scribe. Writer blogs are promoted and there's a log line competition where winners receive free book publicity. Learn about gratis downloads and much more.

My Story in a Lovecraft Rich eBook

Just a reminder to Lovecraft lovers and others that for under a buck you can read old school and new school H.P. all in one handy eBook. My very own "Dagon and Jill" warps up a horror bonanza of mythos-centered tales. (And if you were pleased with your purchase, do comment on Amazon. And if you single out "Dagon and Jill" for special praise, I shall blush like a youth.)

Now on Wattpad: Cat Next Door

sheslosingit.net

A young man, unrequited love, and large cats. What would you do to impress the girl of your youthful dreams? Wattpad holds the answers. 

HPL Art

THINK HAPPY THOUGHTS!! 

Source: Uploaded by user via Amanda on Pinterest

Book Review: The Forgotten Man

The Forgotten Man by Robert Crais

My rating: 3 of 5 stars


Crais wore me down a bit this time with the constant switch between first/third person. If nothing else, it shows the author at work and intrudes on the pace. The story of private investigator Elivs Cole searching for the killer of a man claiming to be his estranged father was interesting enough. It's a quick exciting read save for the moments when forlorn cop Starkey tries to work up her nerve to bed Cole. Then the tale felt like star-crossed YA romance. That said, Crais adds enough cop stuff to make me believe it's real and mixes his action and clues well enough to keep the pages turning. Worth a peek.  



View all my reviews

Honk if You're the Government

So Long, Jack Vance

herocomplex.latimes.com

As a teen I once read an Ace Pocketbook my dad left lying around entitled Eyes of the Overworld. This fantasy tale was set on a future Earth beneath a weak red sun threatening to wink out momentarily. Life is precarious in this dangerous time when science and magic have crossbred. "Overworld" chronicles the doings of a crafty rogue named Cugel who burns every bridge he crosses and often falls prey to his overly clever schemes.

I rushed through the book, then read it again, the writing so compelling, the language so rich and unique, that I immediately became a fan of Jack Vance.

www.worldswithoutend.com

Vance was born the same year as my father and died Sunday at age 96. For over sixty years he wrote science fiction, fantasy and mysteries. He  won Hugo awards for The Dragon Masters and The Last Castle back in the day—both favorites. But my top Vance tales  remained those such as "Overworld," set in a time called The Dying Earth.

As authors go, Vance was quite a character. A blue collar guy who lived in Oakland, California, he believed the sci fi author's role should be muted in terms of publicity so as not to impose his personality between the reader and the world the author had created. He claimed to be in it for the money and never read science fiction.

fabledlands.blogspot.com -

 Looking back on my own stories, I often find a turn-of-phrase, an ironic description, a subtle underselling of scene or character that are stamped into my writing genes thanks to many decades of reading Jack Vance.

So journey well, Jack. You were a guy who just wanted to turn a buck telling tales.

I should be so fortunate.

Kurt, T.J. and Other Departed Warriors

umass74.blogspot.com

This Memorial Day I again think of Kurt and T.J.

Imagine you knew a man from Cleveland, Ohio.

This man had one sibling, an older sister.

During Vietnam, he volunteered for dangerous assignments, operating far behind enemy lines.

After the war, he battled drugs and alcohol.

Eventually, he sobered up and went to work for a vending machine company.

For many years, he traveled in a van around Los Angeles fixing coffee and soda machines.

Now imagine you knew two men with the exact same history.  (But different vending machine companies.)

I was honored to have been friends with a pair of guys whose backgrounds meshed in such odd intimate ways. Once I introduced them at a party, figuring they'd have lots in common, but after a few polite minutes they separated.

They'd experienced stranger things.

Kurt served in Marine recon. Based out of Khe Sanh, he operated in Laos along the Ho Chi Minh Trail on operations so secret that the Americans who died there were never officially acknowledged. Kurt had extended his service to go to Vietnam. He was wounded twice, decorated, and returned home only to be attacked in a bus depot by a man angry over the war. (The man didn't fare well against Kurt who beat him into a fine mist.)

T.J. originally fought with the 12th Infantry near Dak To. He loathed the eerie randomness of combat—here one second gone the next and decided his odds would be better in the  LRRPs (Long Range Reconnaissance Patrol). Instead of waiting to be hit, TJ  crept around North Vietnamese base camps in the Central Highlands making the enemy nervous. He returned to serve out his last few months at Fort Knox, conducting tours of the U.S. Gold Reserve. One night while watching a TV show he started shaking and broke into tears.

Years would pass before he learned about PTSD.

In 2002 I made a business trip to Vietnam. I brought Kurt back a little Buddha and some red clay from Khe Sanh. TJ collected Buddhas so I picked him out a honey in Saigon: a big, fat happy Buddha, smiling like he'd just won the Power Ball,  holding up the Pearl of Knowledge. 
 
In the end, Vietnam finally claimed them both. Health and psychological problems shortened their lives. But they did the best they could with a bad hand and I value the times we had together.

This weekend I remember them and all who gave their lives in service to the country.

(Based on a post from 2009.)