Clifton Hill - Writer. Artist. Head thoroughly lodged in the clouds.

Life in the Lonestar State

2012-07-17T06:00:00.000-07:00

Big bugs, big freeways, big weather and lightning like I’ve never seen—my wife doesn’t refer to the lightning as Texas Fireworks for nothing. Amidst dangerously mesmerizing storms there is an incredible array and quantity of retail (there are 3 Best Buy’s within 5 miles of my house!), tons of great dining, and lots of amenities to enjoy with the wife and kids. Then there’s the heat...

Ugh, the heat. (I prefer the lightning, at least the rain cools everything down.) I’m no Texas veteran, but some nights it stays in the 90°+ range until 10pm and later. And Summer just barely started! Unfortunately, in a big city like Dallas, that kind of heat just plainly: Stinks. Garbage cooking in the sun all day and well into the night is not an odor one looks forward to.

I’m all for the modern conveniences of man, but thinking that one HAS to have a/c to survive in Texas is a bit of an oddity for me. We’ll see how I end up thinking in a few months.

But houses ARE cheaper.

I’m from California, and of late: the San Francisco Bay Area. So, for me, it is totally normal to expect to pay $500k for a 2000 SF house that is in good condition, in a nice area. In fact, that can be a steal. Going to a more average price point across California, you’d be paying $200-300k for the same, but move on over to the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex and you can get the same for under $200k, salaries are comparable to the Bay, cheaper expenses and entertainment to boot. For the fiscally minded, it seems a haven. (Ok, yes, property taxes are about triple California, but there’s no income tax, so...)

The people are nice and VARIED. I’ve never met so many people from other states or other countries. Most people I met in California were usually from...California. But, hey, there’s lots of space out here.

Space was a premium in the Bay Area, and the contrast shows when you see all of the neighborhood parks and recreation. And if you want to stay indoors, there are loads of options for families or adults.

While it might not be for everyone, Texas is treating us well so far. Now if we could just convince some of our family to move out here too—perhaps I shouldn’t mention the heat...

Might be a deal breaker.

Character Arcs: The Turning Point, of ‘No’ Return

2012-07-10T06:00:00.001-07:00

I was debating the other day about the location of the turning point for a character. One that would affect decisions made throughout the book. I wondered if I was making it happen too early.

I had to ask myself, “Self, don’t I have future scenes that prove her to still have a streak of the carefree?” And that is when I had to lapse into thought.

The character in question is an irresponsible, free spirit. Something that was ok in her culture. In fact, it is part of her people’s outlook on life and how one should exist.

But...there are a select few that are endowed with a special ability. One where it is generally accepted, despite the counter-culture concept, that these few will live to a different standard. This particular woman, is fighting that tooth and nail.

Horrible, earth-shattering events ensue, turning her state of mind on its head and I have to wonder: Is this enough to stop her cold turkey? Did the aforementioned events rattle her on such a primal level that it changed her attitude and outlook on life?

Or, is she some smoker that has quit, that keeps reaching for a light? Someone on a diet that keeps having “splurge” days? Is she truly converted? Is she now going to be responsible? Letting go of what is ingrained in her since birth. Because this affects many character choices I make later in the story (in some cases: already made.)

Uh oh, sounds like revision.

In my re-read I found the scene of turning point was happening very early. Perhaps too early. There were actions and decisions she would make later on in contradiction with her newly “improved” self.

*sigh* Time to grit my teeth and get out the proverbial red pen.

But, wait, let’s think about this. Character arcs are about change. It’s great to have a satisfying character arc. We enjoy seeing people turn around. It’s not a requirement in story, but it can be fun and rewarding. Whether it is the irresponsible father, that we grit our teeth, hoping he will finally become involved in his child’s life; or the downtrodden slave that finally rises up against her oppressor. We will even root with morbid fascination to watch the squeaky clean rich boy lose everything precious, broken down with anger and hate, to become a dark avenger of the night. (Ooo, hey, that sounds like a good story.)

But are they stuck to that revised way of thought? Are they unable to slip and have moments where they slide back to where they were?

We’re all human. Of course they can slip, perhaps they even should.

And I’m talking “We” versus fictional “They”, but we are trying to create a sense of humanity, a sense of realism within our fantasy and we want that human aspect to come through. So even though you have created a character with that has changed to become better, or perhaps worse. There is no requirement, that they always adhere to that. In fact, it would probably be false to try and force that on the character.

So, that said, I feel good. That means I don’t need to change some things that happen later. That’s always nice. And more importantly, it will make sense and it will be rewarding AND it will show an element of humanity, which will hopefully make readers connect.

We all make requirements upon ourselves and we ALL fail sometimes. Perhaps MOST of the time. We will berate, reaffirm, try to move forward, but then screw up anyway. So it is ok for your character to slide.

It makes them more human.

Now let me return to the story, I have a goal to stick to and I NEVER, ever slip.

New Job and Newbieness

2012-07-03T05:47:00.000-07:00

We all love new jobs. You get to meet new people, learn new skills, broaden your knowledge of software quirks, add to your Acronym Dictionary, maybe an increase in pay—a plethora of positives. But I did leave one key point out. One major aspect that plagues us all (even those of you too proud to admit it—yeah, You, smart guy)...

The state-of-being of confusion and total feeling of idiocy that the simplest, most mundane of tasks can impart when you’re still learning company jargon, software peculiarities, and trying desperately to remember who reports to who so you don’t accidentally cut off the VP of sales on the way to the bathroom.

That’s where I’m at, right now.

Now, keep in mind all of the above and I’ll tell you that I just started a second job. So, I suppose you can take all of the above and multiply it by two. *Lack of sleep is a significant modifier, so it might warrant a tripling.

But the money is good, the cost of living in Texas is far better than the Bay Area and the prospect of quality time with the family and time to write in the near future, softens the feeling of ineptitude.

What is your "favorite" part about a new job?

Jumping back in: Ready, Set...Write?

2012-06-28T08:30:00.000-07:00

Turning your life upside down is one of the last things a writer wants to do. Our flow is chaotic enough already. Trying to get back into it has been a challenge. Figuring out how to work the time into my new (and still changing) schedule is far from easy.

For nearly two months I wrote essentially: nothing. Oh, sure, I had some ideas, I wrote down some snippets, but serious writing on the focus story? Didn’t happen. I’m turning it around, but it is slow and difficult.

Random thoughts to help:
1. Write whenever and wherever.
2. Focus on what excites you. Skip that boring scene and go for the juicy stuff.
3. Don’t move cross-country... (did you see that one coming?)

I try to adhere to the above, but it’s not always enough for the results I want. My aging (not gracefully) laptop is not helping the issue with slow performance and a dying battery. One issue rectified, and I’m hoping I can deal with the other, because when the time to write strikes I want to pounce like a starving panther at a petting zoo.

Bon appétit.

So, what challenges do you run into how do you keep writing?

Lonely in the Lonestar

2012-06-25T15:15:00.000-07:00

“How was your weekend?” Someone asked me today at work.

“It was great,” I reply, except...for saying goodbye to my family.

That’s a BIG caveat. Family is important. My wife and kids are everything.

And this weekend they had to fly back to California. It’s not for long. But then, a couple weeks can be a lifetime sometimes. There are a variety of reasons for the trip. (Me working two jobs is a major one.) But trying to keep all the positives of the trip in mind is hard when all you want them to do is turn around and stay right here (or jump on the plane with them!)

One of the benefits of the move to Texas is turning our finances around. Things have been rough for us for a while, like many others across the country. And it does feel good to see some positive change. I just wish it didn’t have to come at the expense of time with my wife and kids.

All I can say is that I’m trying to keep focused, looking to my HoneyDo list, and hoping the time flies by, until I can see them again.

Disappearing Cross-Country

2012-06-21T05:44:00.000-07:00

Been a while, believe me, I know. I’ve never moved cross-country before and don’t mean to make it a habit. It’s like taking your world, turning it upside down, shaking the hell out of it, then tossing gasoline on it and lighting it on fire.

Perhaps a little extreme...

But, my wife and I have young children and moved somewhere with no family and friends, so perhaps some of you can relate.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m enjoying Texas and the Dallas area. (I could probably do without the heat and might pass on the tornadoes.) But moving...

*shudder*

Care to share your moving horror story?

Misery loves company. Go ahead, make me happy to be in my shoes and not in yours.

An Unnecessary Aside:
Oh, and I’m sure you already guessed, my clever and intuitive reader (readers?), but my timeframe for Veil of a Warrior (and pretty much everything else writing-related) has been pushed back.

Flash Fic: Fate, Trials, and Ripe Nashi

2012-03-23T06:00:00.000-07:00

    “Old Wise Konichi, is there a—that is... How does one become a man?”
    “Child, you must live.”
    “Live? Is there no trial or test?”
    “Every day is a trial. If you make it through, that is the truest test of them all. Whether it is a test of your manhood, or a test of life.” Old Konichi’s eyes crinkled merrily.
    “But, Wise Konichi, isn’t it said that you are fated to live and fated to die?”
    “Boy, you’ll find that as much as you want to believe that fate rules all and that your actions have no effect, the wisest among us will see that is not true. The only thing set in stone is our response. So, for you to take control of your own destiny, you must react, not without thought, but with calm meditation. Then, and only then, will fate release its grasp.”
    “I think I see, Wise Konichi. Thank you.”
    “You are always welcome, child, it is what I am here for.”
    But the boy did not move.
    “Yes, is there something more?”
    “Well, Wise Konichi, but, what if that is what is expected? What if the calm meditated response is all part of fate? How do I escape fate then, and win a trial I am already fated to lose?”
    Old Konichi stopped and considered the boy for several moments, massaging his chin slowly. “Well then, my boy, it is simple: you must react hastily and without thought.”
    “But...”
    “No, no, no more questions. I am hungry and I see a large, ripe nashi hanging from that tree. May you be hasty and impetuous.”

© 2012 Clifton Hill, all rights reserved.
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A taste of the whimsical today and perhaps a little bit of insight. I hope you enjoy. So go forth and be impetuous and make calm meditated responses, but just make sure that you do so when and where appropriate. No, no, no more questions. I am hungry...

Flash Fic: 8 O’Clock - Expectations Over Coffee

2012-03-16T06:00:00.000-07:00

Every day I sit here, and it’s the same. Coffee to my right, a donut to my left—pink icing, white sprinkles. I twist ever so slightly in the squeaky seat, drum my fingers on the formica table top. The harsh florescent hums above me. Morning light floods long storefront windows. A siren oscillates in the distance.

It’s 8 o’clock. I see the digits high on the chipped plaster wall—they’re red, hypnotic, absolute.

I like absolute. I like certainty. I like knowing what will happen next. I like knowing when and how, but even as much as I do, when I raise the donut to my lips—the familiar hint of sugar and fried dough wafting past my nostrils; the touch, texture and taste of the iced coating melting upon my lips; the satisfying feel of the crispy sweet dough severed between capped teeth; the taste: perfect, as I swallow each morsel—I have to wonder: What brings me here?

Before me, through the windows, within dawn’s peaceful light, the red and blue strobe of emergency vehicles flash and turn; like everyday, every time, without fail. The crushed metal and shattered glass of another life taken

Coffee to my right, donut to my left, the lights flashing before me; mixing their colors with the white sprinkles—a patriotic splash upon my fried confection.

Every day.

My eyes glaze over, misted by the regularity—a known quantity to life; there is a beauty to it all, and a horror. But I do not think, I only appreciate the fact that I know one thing that will happen every day, as I put the hot coffee to my lips and sip.

Coffee to my right, donut to my left.

© 2012 Clifton Hill, all rights reserved.
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Creeped out? Good!

Perhaps this is a slight commentary on how we like things in life. Despite the fact that they are not good for us, we like the regularity, we like to repeat, and do the same. There is something intrinsically, obsessively compulsive about it, but also: comfortable.

Do we seek it, or does it seek us. The chicken or the egg?

Or maybe this was just a visual that popped into my head, meaningless and yet gripping in some indescribable fashion.

Poem: The Book

2012-03-09T06:00:00.000-08:00

I opened the book.
I turned to the first page.
I read.

Each word sounded in my head like a bell.
Each sentence flashed about, like a raging symphony.
Each paragraph changed my very perception.

I felt my worldview shifting.
I felt everything changing.
I wanted to tear my eyes away.
Something screamed inside.

Nooo!
No, stop.
No more!

But my hand turned the page,
and my eyes could not tear away.
And another,
and another,
and another page I went.

The light around me dimmed.
It became dark, but still I read,
into the night.
Deep into the night I read.

Finally, as sun tipped horizon,
a small bead of light wreathed in dark,
I came to the last page.

My fingers trailed over final words,
in a daze,
then I closed the book and stood.

And though I stood still,
the world spun.

And I knew what I had become.

© 2012 Clifton Hill, all rights reserved.
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Any lover of books can relate. Relate to what happens when you lay hands on a book that transforms you, shifts you to another realm, another time, another body, another world. Thoughts, concepts, entire peoples presented before you in compelling fashion that transport you.

Is this what happens to you? Do you become something greater and grander when absorbed by a book? It can for me and there is a certain power within that ability.

Poem: Order of Corenne - Lonely Knight.

2012-03-02T06:00:00.000-08:00

I am Tristfallin, Knight of Corenne, Order of the Deep,
My orders are always to keep:
The Faith, from the evils of Fire,
Persecution and undue Ire.

Let my arm be strong, my aim be true,
My shield hold and my virtue:
Stand.

In the quiet and shadows I do train,
Waiting, patient—as those, that before came,
I sharpen my blade,
I oil my steel,
And I prefer for that one day:

When the waves will rise and the sun falls fast,
When the Knights of Corenne rise to the task.

Let it be soon,
Let it be now,
For I tire and ache,
Of seeing fellows hung low,
When our colors SHOULD show.

© 2012 Clifton Hill, all rights reserved.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A small taste, as it were, of my novel Felling Abberfaun. The Knights make an appearance in the novel that is both beautiful and sad, all in a hope to challenge religious tyranny that drove their peaceful order to near extinction. One day I will share their plight with you. For now, a poem will do.

Poem: Blacksmith Tears

2012-02-24T06:00:00.000-08:00

An anvil rings a deadly chant,
The forge blows a searing heat,
The blacksmith drums a solemn beat,
Upon his work and in his room.

The flat of metal, fashioned ere,
Glowing white and angry red,
Each hammer strike,
Nearing done.

The blacksmith pauses, seeing blood,
Slick and thick upon the steel,
Running deep, running far.
A curse, a pox, a mighty dread.

Eyes wide and breath so quick,
The blacksmith looks to the back,
Where family lies, deep asleep,
Innocent of all but: dependence.

Raising solid arm again,
The hammer deals out the truth,
Careless of the guilty tears,
Careless of the helpless rage.

A blade is fashioned, doused and drawn,
Ready for its deadly song,
The metal forger scrubs sad eyes,
And draws one more blank, with a sigh.

© 2012 Clifton Hill, all rights reserved.
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Perhaps a vision of Perrin Aybara, of The Wheel of Time, was stoutly entrenched in my mind when this vision came forth. The blacksmith—big and strong, gruff and silent—always working alone on their craft. Sometimes forming tools, sometimes pots, and sometimes implements of death. What would a peaceful man do?

What do we all do?

There lies the query.

Poem: The Magi

2012-02-17T06:00:00.001-08:00

Threads of Quan,
race and play,
flying through the cold dawn’s day.

Magi works his hands,
controlling them, like an artisan.

Shifting, correcting, adjusting the flows,
a flash of energy,
and his enemy goes,
up in flame,
down in ash,
the magi turns his attention fast.

An arrow lets fly,
whistling near,
the magi slaps it to the side,
just there.

Irises glowing,
energy surround,
the magi stands,
His ground.

© 2012 Clifton Hill, all rights reserved.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The muse struck again, but was captured and harnessed and thus a poem was scribed to the page.

What is Quan you ask?

Keep on asking, keep on wondering, or read an excerpt from my novel Veil of a Warrior and you'll get an idea. Which, by the way, is still being worked on. Time frames are always difficult when juggling everything else, but I expect to be done going over my notes for Felling Abberfaun soon and then I can tackle getting Hammerblood ready for his debut—whether it be by publisher or no.

Flash Fic: Once, But Never Again.

2012-02-10T06:00:00.001-08:00

Look at him: mesmerizing, as he moves through the motions of battle. Pivot, thrust, slash, block, parry, swing. He lunges left, he takes a slash to the shoulder, rights himself, throwing his body like a battering ram into his opponent. He moves well, I think, but...I used to move better.
Now...I can hardly talk, I am a hobbled, handicapped mess.
That man out there, it used to be me. But...I was far better. No one could touch me, I had the luck of the gods. Alas, like a starving puppy trailing hopefully behind, I paid that luck no heed. I gave it no scraps, or love, or attention, and then one day it was just: gone.
With a foot twice broken, a hand severed at the wrist—no, I had not stolen that horse—I have little to live for. Never been a friend to any. Pushed them all away. Like batting at flies—instinctual. Now, with a pittance of pay—the sad remains of pity from a commander that found some imagined value, I subsist.
Sure, it may be enough to while away the hours with a woman of the night, forgetting myself in their flesh and succumbing to the moment. But, despite the variety, even that is beginning to get old.
I am starting to wonder: What else is there for me in life? How can I continue; like a desperate man willing to do anything to stay alive—sustained by my commander’s leavening? Sitting here by the sidelines, idle, giving my comments and notes. Helping with strategy. Is that what my day and my night has come to? Because if that is it, I don’t know if I can last.
I’m THAT man right there. The one going through the motions of battle. A performer of death. Except there is one difference: I was better and now...I am nothing.

© 2012 Clifton Hill, all rights reserved.
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I know, another cheery one, right? What can I say? There was an interest in the viewpoint of a warrior, full of life and unstoppable vigor, that has succumbed to age and wounds. What would they become, and how would they view life?

This was actually pulled from my voice notes file on my Blackberry. I've got FAR too many notes, stories, poems, etc. sitting idle, waiting for me to transcribe them and put them to some good (nefarious) use. Next Friday we will return to some poems of an Epic Fantasy setting that I have queued up, in companion and successor to the first one that I posted last week.

What do you think?

The Individual, the Writer: Keep Out of My Box!

2012-02-08T12:01:00.000-08:00

Every individual is, surprising enough, an individual. I think we lose sight of this sometimes. We, as fellow writers, all want to write something that is accepted and adored, published broad and wide, bought by millions and enjoyed by more. And...in doing so, we are desperate—we push, we strive, we seek advice, read how-to manuals, we do everything possible to be better. Better writers, better creators and better artists.

But let’s think about this.

Art is SO subjective. So, why do we put such stock into the advice of others? How do we know that what they have to say will help us? Simple answer: We don’t. And yet someone that has sold millions, worked for years, and has name recognition in league with Bill Gates, captures our attention with their how-to book on how we can become better writers.

But will their success be an echo for you?

Ever see those art spatters that someone, with a wad of cash burning a hole in their pockets, pays millions for? (...$@#%!!?) So, do you want to make some paint splatter? If so: Great! For me, a little chaotic splatter can be a wonderful backdrop in art or writing, but I want some structure too.

But, hey, we’re human. How can we not look to others to emulate, it’s the smart thing to do. Why would we want to waste our time making mistakes that others have made before and we can learn from. Indeed.

Still...remember what we propose by seeking another’s advice for our art. It can become an effort to put someone else’s structure to a process that is a natural part of ourselves and a culmination of our experiences? If there is anything to take away from an education in writing or visual art, it should be a greater understanding of the subject and a broadening viewpoint.

Point of this all is: Everyone learns and IS a different kind of artist.

Some people may be quite similar, but there is a lot of individuality. So, if I want to be a great writer, should I turn to Stephen King, Danielle Steel, J.K. Rowling, Tolkien, (insert Big Name here) and read every blog post, book on writing, or article; listen to every podcast, interview, and so on, in some obscene effort, trying to become them? This may help some, their writing style may naturally vibe with their chosen mentor. (Lucky them.) But if your natural tendencies do not vibe or work with your mentor, then you might just be hurting yourself.

This is just my own opinion, but when you try to constrain your creativity to the bounds of someone else, you may be destroying everything that is beautiful and different about your own art.

I can’t lay claim to know everything and I am certainly not suggesting that when my book is released it will sell millions of copies, or that publishing houses will be disemboweling each other for a shot at having their logo on the binding of my book, but my feeling is: You can listen, you can read, you can absorb all this writing knowledge, from different perspectives, and it CAN benefit you; but you need to look at it with a grain of salt, and you can’t let it change who you are as a writer. Learn from it, take what you can, don’t let it change YOU.

Final Thought: One thing I’ve done (possibly right) is reading and reviewing books with an analytical eye; looking for what I like and what I don’t. It has forced me to understand the books on a different level than a mere read-through AND there has been no voice in my ear telling me what to think or how, other than my own. The books of choice have included a variety of genres, viewpoints, styles and methods and I can only hope that this will prove of value.

Write on!
(Thanks to online buddy Steve Yeager for firing up this rant/blog/insight.)

Poem: The Warrior

2012-02-03T06:00:00.000-08:00

Thrumming steel,
Flying blood,
The warrior stands,
A mountain, in the mists of time.

One day—tall and insurmountable,
Another, worn and bare,
A tale of another day,
Now just dust and bone.

Do not cry,
Do not woe,
Claims the strong one,
Who stands on his own.

I will live forever.

Lies on the lips of the young.

© 2012 Clifton Hill, all rights reserved.
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The muse struck and gave me a series of poetry in an epic fantasy vein. Look for more to come, each Friday, for a while.

The End. The Beginning.

2012-01-30T07:00:00.000-08:00

I reached the end of Felling Abberfaun. Huzzah!

Photo by Gilderic - Gah! That's beautiful.

Or at least I have reached the end of the story for book 1. Yes, I love Epic Fantasy, what can I say? This story will continue, it will expand, increase its reach and grow.

With each ending there starts a whole new beginning. Like a circle, there is no end to the writing. I may have reached the end, but I have copious notes on other files, on my phone, voice notes, paper notes, all conspiring to throw me back into the writing to truly finish the first draft. But in a way, the first draft is done. And for that I will celebrate.

At 115,000 words, it is more than I was expecting, but, then the story is richer, more complicated and spans more viewpoints than Veil of a Warrior. So I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Still I was hoping for that perfect middle ground of 100,000 words. I'm left to wonder (still) how some do it. How they can say, with all authority, "This story will be exactly 105,000 words. Not one single word less or more."

Ok, perhaps, no one says that, but it seems like other writers are better able to gauge than I. Is this a matter of some gift? Years of additional skill? Or just pure, silly luck?

I'm sure it matters little in the broad reach of things. I tell the story until it is over...

The End

Let the People Decide...

2012-01-25T06:00:00.000-08:00

...Who to vote for!

Yes, that's right, I got nominated to be a featured writing blog on eCollegeFinder.org. Which is a resource for finding online education for the time impaired. I've never used the service, but it looks interesting.

Online Colleges

Weigh in and make your voice heard, and don't forget to vote for me! :-) I'm giving you my most winsome smile right now.

You can vote as much as you want, so keep-on-a-clicking!

Poem: Wireless Obsession

2012-01-11T15:46:00.000-08:00

A random poem that sprang to mind. I was amused, and thus I share. Do not expect this to be a regular kind of thing.

*************

Photo by Cote

My fingers run across the keys,
spiteful intent.

A free-range mouse,
gripped close,
my bidding is done.

Hurry, before it is too late.
Do not delay.
The end is near.

Click

Click
Click
Clickety-Click
Click

The cursor is still.
Starkly cast pixels glare,
silent, unmoving.

Two more batteries,
lost to my wireless obsession.

A curse upon the environment and upon my growing conscience.

*************

Cheery, aren't I?

Book Review: Feed, by Mira Grant (a.k.a. Seanan McGuire)

2012-01-06T09:51:00.000-08:00

(This is a repost, of my review that appeared on SF Signal recently - reposted here for posterity)

Mass Market Paperback: 608 pages
Publisher: Orbit; 1 edition (May 1, 2010)
ISBN-10: 0316081051
ISBN-13: 978-0316081054

In a world where we are all, quite literally, zombies—just waiting for a bad day to shuffle away, seeking a hot meal—bloggers rule the news, social fear is taken to new levels and politics are (as always) the true evil. As a blogger vying for the big leagues, Georgia Mason tells the news the way it should be: full of fact and clean of bias. Shaun is her reckless brother, more interested making the news, than living life in something resembling a sane fashion. Together they take a ride that flies them higher than their wildest hopes and plummets them worse than their deepest fears.

Georgia is the voice of the novel that pulls you through, with smirks and chuckles; while Grant unveils a world where zombies walk and we somehow manage to survive. For the “connected”, this story will resonate with equal parts probability and fascination. For the rest, Feed is written as if speaking directly to the reader of today, making it not just entertaining, but accessible. Grant relates how the world evolved and changed from the world of today to the one of tomorrow and how they survived the zombie apocalypse. She skates the line of pulling the reader from the story, but manages to keep from falling off.

Grant’s research and imagination leap off the pages with convincing science. You will fear the results of medical revolutions that combine with horrifying results—or at least you should.

The real world political analogy is hard to ignore. The 2008 American Presidential campaign seems to be a heavy influence to the politics of Feed, making the book more relevant while also setting expectations that might have led to a more fulfilling realization, if the analogous parts had been more hidden.

Despite their nature, the zombies are not the enemy of the novel. They are a means and a method—perhaps obvious to anyone expecting a satisfying read, as they lack the intelligence to do more than infect and consume. The true antagonist makes themself known with the necessary zeal and fervor of any cartoon villain. Still, this book satisfies on so many other levels that most readers should forgive the thin veil of the antagonist. It seems certain that more, greater things are to come and I expect that some of the great drama that happened off scene in Feed, will probably come to full light in Deadline, part two of the Newsflesh trilogy.

The ending is gutsy and will quite literally blow “your” mind, even if the resolution lacks some of the cutting wit of the rest of the novel. Grant had fun writing Feed and (I think) you will enjoy reading this. When the zombies come, look to the blogs.

Four bloody stars.

2012: Looking Forward

2012-01-03T06:00:00.000-08:00

I’m trying to look at my goals for 2011, compare them to the results and make a more realistic 2012 set that is achievable, but challenging. In all, I am little concerned either way. I am more interested in pushing forward, no matter the challenge, and taking whatever I can from the experience.

Photo by Jill Clardy

In writing, I plan to finish the Felling Abberfaun first draft by the end of January. I will finally return to Veil of a Warrior and do a final revision before I send it for consideration and put some serious thought and time into prepping it for self publish. Some may say that I am rushing forward, but anything gained in the process of getting it ready to publish is a gain, whether I end up going traditional or not.

I also want to do a revision to Felling Abberfaun, work on the Hammerblood sequel and a couple other projects that I’m kicking around.

For the Shadow Bytes, I want to get back to drawing in the New Year and build up a mighty buffer that can withstand the changing currents of life. I want to push it to color. (There! I said it.) I can only hope that I can find the time for it. I’d love to immerse myself in some other art projects, but for the time being all I can look forward to is some self-promotional design work for my day job.

For a brief side note of things to come on Shadow Bytes:
The talented Galen Dara will be doing a side project to appear on Shadow Bytes in the form of a graphic novel that Patrick Hester (the fabled writer of Shadow Bytes) has been cooking in his writing pot. I don't know what it will look like, or what will happen, but it's bound to be interesting. Keep your eyes peeled for news.

I look forward to seeing what Galen will do for the webcomic and thank her for her interest in Shadow Bytes.

Going beyond the creative: 2012 will be a time of change and uncertainty for me financially, though there is great hope and potential in the career move I am tackling. (If you’d like to read about my loan officer journey, click on over to my other blog.) If all goes well, it will help ensure a more stable future for my family and creative pursuits.

All in all, I want 2012 to be a year that I can achieve balance between family, work and the burning creative within.

May it be a year to prosper.

Happy New Year!

2011-12-31T23:58:00.000-08:00

Wishing you all a wonderful 2012.

Let your celebrations be safe, be merry and look to the future with hope and energy. May 2012 will be a year we all grow in health, wealth and wisdom.

Write on!

Photo by Dondel

2011: Year in Review

2011-12-30T12:54:00.000-08:00

Photo by Samantha Decker

My what a year! I can’t believe 2011 is nearly over. The changes that have occurred for me are all over the board: new baby, the passing of family, a new, exciting book nearly done with the first draft, the webcomic ShadowBytes.com was started and then stopped and much more.

First, let’s get the embarrassment over. My 2010 NaNoWriMo entry (which has become Felling Abberfaun) was supposed to be done with the first draft in January 2011, but is now on pace to be done in January 2012... I had hoped to return to Hammerblood’s book: Veil of a Warrior early in 2011, now it will be early 2012. My wordcount for the year is only in the realm of 100-110k for actual story writing. That breaks down to only 2k/week or about 9k/month. Not great, but a few months had very little writing, so it is to be expected. The Shadow Bytes webcomic began life as The Cat Bytes, lost its name, gained a new, cooler one and then went on hiatus—I still plan to return to it, but I’m trying to gain some regularity in my life first.

The list goes on... *phew* In general, looking at my goals for 2011, I was smoking something strong and heady because there were a lot of things that got lost in the excitement. What can I say, I'm the Eternal Optimist—except when I'm not. (Strong statement there, I know.)

For the good things: 2011 brought the birth of my second child and now we have a daughter and son set. Some people say our collection is complete. For now, I will agree. 2011 brought an end to a job that was going nowhere faster than a speeding locomotive propelled by a man in blue and red tights—and was hopefully a first step toward something better. I increased my blog readership by a little, even though I didn’t manage any more content.

2011 was a year where I made new friends, grew my understanding of writing, advanced as a father, gained patience and was able to spend a lot more time with family. It was a good year, and I have a lot to look forward to in 2012. I feel ready and anxious for the challenge. Here’s hoping 2012 is a year to shine.

Moving Past Chapter 1

2011-12-22T07:00:00.000-08:00

You've written and re-written Chapter 1 a dozen times, you have an endless stack of story ideas from the techno-thriller, starring a maniacal Jack Frost, to the Victorian Mystery starring a fashion-obtuse Conan The Barbarian, but what you really want to do is actually finish something.

Question is: What is holding you back? Perhaps you're trying to make the story too perfect on the first draft? Because first drafts SHOULD suck and just be about what people are doing, why, where they are and how. All the pretty prose, good grammar, riveting action, clever dialogue should could come later (unless the muse is in).

I'm no Writer Extraordinaire, but I've got some completed projects under my belt, and others that are close, so it takes me back to my own path. If you are so interested, come walk with me for a moment while I reminisce.

I started my writing in '95 (perhaps '94), where I spent a lot of time working up the world building and a brief outline of many, many sequels to occur over the course of millennia. (Trying to keep the story small and manageable, right?) I dabbled in the world and the story, off and on, over the course of the next couple years before I pretty much shelved it until 2007. Other things took over during that time, and as dear to me as it still was, it didn't take precedence. Through the years I had a lot of little story ideas, and had four chapters done in the main story that started it all.

When I revisited the Story in 2007, it was partly out of creative depression from other things. But, when I looked at it, I couldn't figure out how to move forward. For me, the Story was grand, epic, and actually: Too big to write. I had too many things that I needed to figure out first: regarding story, writing skill, etc. In (what I think was) a brilliant moment, I realized that I needed to do something in that world, but far apart and separate. It would give me time to build up my ideas of what was to come while still staying productive. That endeavor (Hammerblood) was supposed to be a "short story", then novella, became the first novel of a four-part series of which the first one is "done", the second is half done and the others are roughed out.

I can't tell you if I can return yet to the main storyline that started it all, but I can tell you that I have a couple novels almost completed, others are close, two short stories are done and I am certainly feeling more accomplished and capable after taking these different stories from beginning to end.

Perhaps there is something a writer stuck on Chapter 1 can take from all of that, or perhaps I just spent FAR too much time navel-gazing about my writing past. You decide. ;-)

How about your own progression? Do you have a story of your way past Chapter 1?

Happy Holidays: How fast and unexpected you are

2011-12-20T16:25:00.000-08:00

Photo by Hynkle

Where did the year go? Seriously! Who stole it, took it, and hid it away? I want answers!

If it wasn’t for my lovely wife, I know I wouldn’t be even half prepared for Christmas. (Thank you Anneli!) As it is, the kids will be well taken care of—without a doubt. As a parent surveying the mass of various toys scattered thither and yonder, it surprises me how many our four year old has. Christmas and a certain large, ungainly, but merry, old elf are only bound to increase the condition. The mind staggers to think of what the house will be like when little baby Nemo is old enough.

My study is messy enough—AS IS. I’m putting a double-deadbolt on it now, best to be on the safe side to keep some of that mountain of toys from crashing in here.

The family will be a bit fractured this year, what with new babies and long drives. But we will have a grand time nonetheless and will be thinking of everyone near and far.

Here’s hoping you and yours are having a joyous Holiday Season, no matter your economic condition and no matter what you may celebrate.

Up Your Words

2011-12-09T09:24:00.001-08:00

Seriously incredible post by Rachel Aaron on increasing your writing word count. It makes total sense and will probably have you backhanding yourself in the forehead *ouch*.

Read her post, but to quickly summarize, her three key things are:

Knowledge - Before you write, brainstorm for 5+ minutes about what you are going to write. We all did this in school, it was called brilliantly enough: Brainstorming. Block action, make plot decisions, do it rough and quick and then when you are feeling full of writerly fire, turn to the computer and start unloading those words.

Time - Find the time of day and location where you are most productive. This takes some tracking and organization to pull off.

Enthusiasm - There are scenes we love to write and scenes we hate to. Sometimes we are outside of our comfort zone, but it may be that most of the time we are merely writing something that is boring to us. Skip that, find a way to tell the scene that interests you. If it doesn't, then why should your reader be interested.

Side note: Perhaps obvious, but perhaps not, eloquence and word choice are not what any first draft should be about. Make your story pretty (or gruesome) after you figure out what your characters are doing and when they are doing it.

I've just barely tackled this method, but I think I can see that results will follow with perseverance. Thank you Rachel for an awesome post!

Here's a screen grab of how I've set up my own spreadsheet to track everything. Not necessarily perfect, but I think it will work for me.