Justin Kemppainen

Oh, another quick note...

2011-08-05T07:22:00.000-07:00

I'm probably going to be moving this blog at some point in the near future. My older brothers are both aspiring novels in their own right, and one of them in particular has experience and interest in the many terrifying (as I see them) principles of marketing.

So the three of us are likely to be working on a business collaboration for writing, as well as possibly doing some actual novel collaboration as well. Should be very exciting.

Rhythm, and Agoraphobia

2011-08-05T07:03:00.000-07:00

Or I suppose routine would be a better way of expressing it, rather than rhythm. I've never been much for them, always preferring the carefree, wild-child appeal of the do and go wherever I please, whenever I please.

Although, I don't have a car, I work from home (in a real job sense, not just writing), I fear the sun, and there's not much to do... No, I do not have agoraphobia, nor am I mocking those who do. That would be mean.

Still, I don't really don't go very many places, but still I've liked the ability to avoid a rigorous schedule no matter how beneficial having one could be. Especially when being at home, where all the toys are scattered about the floor from the previous bout of frolicking (this being in a metaphorical sense; my play-time is pretty much computer-based), as time goes on it becomes easier and easier to add the few extra minutes. Or God forbid I play a game of League of Legends, which these days I still dance back and forth between intense hatred and moderate dislike (yet I still play every now and then?).

Anyway... the less rambling version of this story is that I'm getting back the rhythm. The past couple of months have been I suppose one could say a break, a bit of a vacation of sorts from writing, where only little bits would go down each day or even week. I think this is a good thing, to be honest, as if I'd forced it along, much of it probably wouldn't have been very good.

Whatever. I'm now at 60,000 words, aiming for 100,000. I'm working toward target daily and weekly amounts, and I've pretty much got my finishing-time goal in mind. I'm going to keep these to myself for now. Nothing like screwing up promised deadlines to drag the ol' motivation in the dirt.

It's coming, though, and it won't be long at all.

Eureka!

2011-07-01T07:22:00.000-07:00

Or something equally discovery appropriate.

I don't really believe in writer's block, though saying so may make a horde of angry novelists descend upon me with some variety of righteous fury. Having said that, I'll freely admit that recent days (months) have shown a disappointing lack of progress with my latest novel, the somewhat hotly anticipated Haven II: The Havening (not a real title).

Has it been writer's block? Was it some amorphous entity which clamped down upon my fingers, telling me, "No, you can't," for all this time? Well...

Maybe, sort of, not really, not even a little, and probably?

There was a section of the novel which you could say I've been stuck on, except it wasn't the actual last point of entry in there; a few scenes/chapters had been written since then, but something about it just didn't feel quite right. It felt thin. It felt like events progressed because plot demanded it to be so, not because the actions necessarily made sense.

A few other things, those aforementioned and dull real life blahblahblahs, were present, but this thing, this feeling of not quite right left what one could maaaaaaybe call a block in my mind. I knew, I knew very clearly, that something about it needed fixing, and I had absolutely no desire to continue much further beyond that point before the deed was done.

But a certain lack of confidence, having other projects/concerns, and some other junk kept me from wanting to fix it. Was this writer's block? Was it that amorphous blob of can't which plagues my fellow novelists?

I'm still not so sure. Part of me (much of me) recognizes that, given a more fastidious attitude, bucking up, forcing discipline, that sort of thing, I could have moved past it a while ago. Perhaps, even with appropriate levels of elbow grease, I still wouldn't have been able to fix it, until... something?

Well... whatever the case was, it's now fixed, and I'm beginning to feel that spark, that desire to create. No fanfare, no trumpets, not even an actual Eureka! moment to speak of. I identified the problem, thought about it for a good long while (days/weeks), and it's fixed. Writer's block or not, Haven II: This Time It's Personal (still not a real title) is going to be coming out soon.

Cheers.

Still existing, still chugging away...

2011-05-24T11:25:00.001-07:00

Haven't been posting too much lately, but I've been shying away from book work (including the varied things that go along with it) the last few weeks. Just dropping in to mention that I still do exist and am still working on stuff.

And by working, I of course mean playing The Witcher 2 and Terraria.

Strange things...

2011-05-12T12:21:00.000-07:00

Once again I find myself at the mercies and whims of Amazon, who made Haven a free book, but methinks I'll just leave it as such and let that thing be the freebie until the end of time. I suppose that's the way it should have always been, but whatever.

Since I've got one now free, rather than jumping the gun with Ivan, I think I'll leave it at the obscene price of 99 cents (obviously changing it on Smashwords).

I think it'll work out better this way, especially with Haven's conclusion forthcoming.

Update on Haven Sequel

2011-05-09T11:22:00.001-07:00

Life circumstances have not yet changed, and daily progress remains fairly slow.

Again, I don't wish to bore anyone to tears, so I'll simply say this: I'm re-evaluating a large number of personal and professional goals. What result will come from this is obviously not entirely certain, but I will express a few of my current leanings.

Writing as career: I'm not sure if it's something I want to do as a full-time job. I've tried it now for a few months, and I don't know if it's quite my cup of tea. I still fully intend to continue telling stories with good old-fashioned words until I keel over, but I might change how I'm going about it. This will mean less-frequent books, and I currently don't have any plans to change the indie model for my work.

Okay, what does this mean for the near future?

Well, the Haven sequel might not come out within my tentative schedule, or even very near to it. I will make absolutely no guarantees to when it comes out; progress is entirely dependent upon proper working rhythm, which I have had small difficulty with lately.

It's currently about 1/2 done, and my goal remains to have it finished and released by the end of the summer, but I won't make any promises until things settle down and I get back into a solid routine. Simply know that all of my writing efforts will still be going to this book, so it *will* be released. I'll keep posting updates as to my progress, but for now I'll leave any potential release dates out of it.

So... I know this might be a bit disappointing to folks, so I apologize for that. To compensate, I've decided to make what is my best work to date, The Legend of Ivan, completely free of charge for the time being. You can get it right now, in any format, from Smashwords. Via their distribution, the price change should trickle out to places like Sony, Kobo, and Apple within a few weeks, and I'm sure Amazon will get it eventually or unlist the book, but for now I'll leave it there at the lowest possible price.

You can get it right now, if desired, at:

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/44029

To those who did pay for it, I thank you very much for your support =)

Slight delays (yeah, I know...)

2011-04-21T10:17:00.000-07:00

Some real life things have been occurring, more concretely have been getting a bit in the way of solid progress, and for the most part I've been falling behind in my particular writing goals of late.

The Fall of Haven (barring any massive changes where I crank out thousands of words per day for the next few weeks) will not be ready by early June. I'm hesitant to say early July, as I'm still not supremely confident of how things are going at the moment and if improvement will change the average progress pace. It all depends upon getting back into a solid routine, but it's also possible I may be splitting time/focus on other projects as well. Doing so may help my levels of sanity, but it also means I might not get as much writing done each day.

I won't bore anyone with particular details. I am still working on it the best I can. If nothing else (assuming I'm not hospitalized or in some way completely incapable of doing so), I promise the book will be out before the summer is up.

I apologize to those who have been eagerly waiting, and I hope to be able to provide the best possible conclusion to this story.

Moar Minecraf!!

2011-04-12T09:24:00.000-07:00

Let's see... what else have I accomplished thus far in the delightful sandbox game...

Some friends and I are recreating an underground (like, as far deep as possible) representation of the Lost Woods from Zelda. Thus far, just the rooms have been hollowed out and decorated; the main architect is still considering what to do and how to make them a little more dynamic.

On Sunday, I created a glass house three layers beneath the surface of a lake, with water flowing on all sides and a glass tunnel leading to the surface. It looks really darn cool.

My wife has been working on some Escher recreations, and that's been looking good.

Oh, and I stealth-placed a wooden, open-air observation platform on a cliff where another friend of mine is building a castle. There's a little fire-place, bookshelves, and a chair, and the fenced balcony looks out on the sunrise.

So yeah... maybe a little addicted to this game.

Might be biting off a bit too much...

2011-04-08T06:50:00.000-07:00

But then again, I have a very large mouth.

I've been playing a little Minecraft lately, and by a little I happen to mean a very large amount. For those not familiar with the game, think of it like Legos. Only there are infinite Legos, and you can build/combine a millions different things to create some very large and elaborate projects.

Someone is building a 1:1 representation of the starship Enterprise. Decks and all.

(It's really big).

Another used music blocks to recreate Bohemian Rhapsody.

A project I'm considering, once I get to a certain point where I've done a fair number of smaller ones, is to start making a physical re-creation of some certain elements of Haven. Something I'd probably start with would be the Escape entrance and Institute. Just for effect, I'd cover a good portion of the sky.

Since enjoying that game is entirely based upon finding a project, I feel like it'd be sufficiently grand enough to do. Plus, as a plug for existing work, it certainly couldn't be too harmful in case it, you know, got a few hits on YouTube (assuming the project ever got to the point where it could be showcased).

Like I said, just a thought. I'm having a blast with the game so far, and it'd be pretty cool to see something else I created receive a visual representation. Y'know, even if I do it myself =)

Guest Blog Post

2011-03-31T08:57:00.000-07:00

The folks over at "My Love Affair with Books" were kind enough to allow me to have a guest post introducing A Fickle Fate.

http://books-love-affair.blogspot.com/2011/03/guestpost-justin-kemppainen-author-of.html

For those daring enough to follow their link back this way, I welcome you and encourage a quick perusal of sample chapters, blog posts, or whatever else you feel like doing. Start a conversation, start a fight, start a fire. Troll to your heart's desire, and you'll find lightly scathing reply.

In all seriousness, a huge thanks and shout out to the folks over at Love Affair; it's pretty darn awesome to be able to expand horizons and speak to a larger audience.

This! Is! Spartacus!

2011-03-25T08:44:00.001-07:00

So I've been using/abusing the Netflix Instant Watch to fairly substantial lengths, hopefully not disturbing my writing schedule too much (no, there have been other things causing that). One of the focuses of such was the recent Spartacus show.

It's surprising how compelling the series is in terms of plot and intrigue when so filled with blatant pandering. I won't call myself overly sensitive in terms of content, but the levels of violence and explicit content would make many a person blush and/or gasp.

Yet still, the story is weaving and deep, tragic and thrilling all at once. But its content makes it definitely not for the even moderately weak of stomach, to be sure.

This of course, has been coupled with quite a bit of anime. We've been watching Soul Eater of late, whose pile of characters are finally starting to endear themselves. Certain ones are fine and have always been fine, but others have annoying quirks.

It's a strange amalgamation; the writers clearly want the characters to have these irritating tendencies, as annoyance is often mitigated by them getting lamped upside the head. However, the focus seems to be too heavy-handed on singular aspects of dialogue. Example: BlackStar, showy and arrogant, always talks about how "big" he is. Soul is all about "cool." In spite of obvious neurosis and obsessive compulsive disorder (which would be interesting in itself if not portrayed in such heavy caricature), the focus of Death the Kid is nothing but "symmetry." He also wields guns and fires them with his pinkies, which bugs the crap out of me. I guess it's stylistic, but it just looks dumb.

Well, anyway, a lot of the tension in early episodes was not that things were too difficult for the characters but more that they couldn't stop faffing about long enough to get the job done. This has since altered somewhat, and the characters are not constantly spewing the annoying junk. To be honest, I'm surprised we're as far along as we are: the beginnings of the show don't lend themselves to much interest beyond the first few episodes.

On the other hand, we're still watching it, so they must have done something right. It's no Darker Than Black, though.

Progress on Haven Sequel

2011-03-18T09:58:00.001-07:00

Writing the Haven sequel has been surprisingly tricky business for me thus far. Now, please make no mistake about it; progress is steady, I'm not considering changing the tentative release date (yet), and generally the writing and story is turning out to be pretty darn good so far.

I'm a little shy of my target word-count. Basically, the goal was to be finished within 60 days to be ready for about 30-45 days of editing. Starting March 1 on writing, May 1 for editing, and releasing early June.

This also depends heavily upon the length the work ends up being. My guess is it will be a bit shorter than the first, as I'm working on telling the story in a bit more of a concise fashion. I'll be the first to admit that the first Haven was a little too chunky, but I've learned a lot since then.

At the moment, I'm just not quite finding the correct mindset. Allow me to explain:

1) I like "new" things. Ideas, games, occupations... for whatever reason, I tend to grow tired of many things fairly quickly, and the novelty of a new something or other is pretty appealing to me. Since Haven is somewhat old hat to me, it isn't as fresh or exciting as an original project.

2) I am extremely proud of the books I've written, and this counts for Haven as well. I think it's a great story. However, I know very, very completely that both A Fickle Fate and The Legend of Ivan are significantly better in pretty much every way. This is perfectly understandable: I've learned quite a bit in the last few years. I look back on Haven and see many things which could be improved. Thus, working on the sequel, I remain within the constraints existing from a previous, less-experienced piece.

3) I'm finding the proper balance of re-exposition and new exposition to be interesting and tricky in itself. The story begins a number of months after the conclusion of Haven, and several changes and developments have occurred which are, to the characters, past tense. Reintroducing elements and characters has been a lot of what's been written already, and talking about things already established and whatnot (I know it's not always necessary for a sequel, but it's a good idea anyway) conflicts ever so slightly with my personal nature, explained up at 1).

However, good news to be had: things are starting to pick up. The plot is getting into new territory, some crazy crap is happening, and basically everything is getting more fresh and interesting.

What's the point of this? Oh, I don't know. Self-reflection, letting readers know that I'm a real person and such. A while back I had a somewhat nasty comment saying my attitude was unprofessional, and maybe a post like this would fall under that category.

On the other hand, I'm basically just saying what I'm up to as far as writing is concerned. I don't care much for doing nothing but advertisement and "buybkplzkthx" types of posts. With this blog, I'm pretty much just hanging out, trying to start conversations and let people know what's up.

And, again to assuage any fears: progress is slower than I was going for, but it's still strong. The Haven sequel will be in your hands before too long, so no worries on that.

Modular Origami

2011-03-17T11:50:00.000-07:00

So my brother, who designed the new cover for A Fickle Fate and the cover for The Legend of Ivan, has his blog/website up and running.

He's been rocking the art of paper folding for a number of years now, and his preference seems to be with something called Modular Origami. Rather than listening to me fumble around with explanations, check out some pictures to see how awesome his stuff is.

His eventual goals are to publish a book on his technique (which is a variation he hasn't found any literature on) and even potentially see some of his pieces in art galleries. Swing by his site sometime if you find this stuff interesting: he has numerous other pieces posted.

Lrn2Nglish n00b

2011-03-14T08:01:00.001-07:00

I found a delightful review for Haven today which made me laugh at loud. Not the review itself but the realization it provided to me:

No matter how much we read, write, listen, speak, or bang our heads against the walls of language, we will never know *everything* there is about any single one of them.

Before today, I did not know of the existence of the word "clamber." I cannot recall a single time in my life where I saw that word in print, and before today it did not exist in my mind. Instead, whenever speaking of someone climbing or awkwardly stumbling, my thoughts turned to the word "clamor." The two are most often homophones, so the mistake, at least to my mind, is relatively understandable.

Now, in typical multiple definition fashion, I simply assumed that clamor had dual purpose: one for awkward climbing and one for its actual definition in calling out/loud noise/etc.

Knowing what I do now, both definitions imply a certain amount of awkwardness or confusion/chaos to the action: clambering is not a smooth, agile movement; it's hasty and haphazard. Clamoring is a flurry of confused noise, not a simple calling out.

Although more fun yet, in certain contexts, you could actually use either to facilitate the same imagery.

Consider the pit in Wall Street, where dozens/hundreds of people are shouting, clamoring, and practically climbing over each other, clambering, to make their desires known.

Anyway, as ridiculous as it is to find out I've been using a word wrong my entire life, it's still fun to learn something new.

(Oh, and for those who didn't quite get it, the title reads as, Learn to English, noob)

Anime Shmanimay

2011-03-07T14:18:00.000-08:00

It's been quite a while since I've watched any anime, as I've never been enough of an enthusiast to spend the exorbitant costs to purchase them. I've seen several of them, and I definitely enjoy them to a strong extent, but availability has been a bit of an issue.

What have I watched? Let's see...

Trigun. Oh, I loved Trigun, and it was the first real anime I ever saw (excepting the children's cartoon versions of things like Dragon Ball Z and Yu-Gi-Oh, but those don't really count). I've seen Cowboy Bebop, Full Metal Alchemist (love, but haven't seen Brotherhood yet), Chronicles of Lodos War, Outlaw Star, Fruits Basket, The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya, Elfin Lied (oi...), and some varied others.

Thanks to the Instant Watch of Netflix, I've been able to check out several more anime, and I've been very pleased with the selection. I just finished Darker Than Black, which I enjoyed immensely. I'm halfway through Black Blood Brothers, which I was reluctant to watch at first but also enjoy quite a bit.

Other ones I have planned are Ghost in the Shell (film as well as the series), Moribito, Mushishi, Blassreiter, Last Exile, Basilisk, Samurai 7, Blood+, Gungrave, and various others. I'm always open to suggestions, and it's hard to pin down my tastes. Suffice to say, I'm willing to give most things a shot.

Claymore I only watched one episode of it, and the fish-out-of-water character annoyed the living crap out of me. I'm going to try a few more episodes at some point, but reviews suggest he doesn't get much better. I like the concept, and the first episode was decently interesting (aside from the use of the exposition cudgel), but Raki is sooooooooo sooooo irritating.

New Cover, New Price

2011-03-03T09:32:00.001-08:00

A Fickle Fate has received a cover redesign, something a little more eye-catching and actually fairly reminiscent of the cover for Haven.

The price, which was foretold about a month or so ago, will now officially be changing from .99 to 2.99. We shall see how this effects the overall number of sales. Thus far it hasn't been too much, but I'm hopeful it will pick up in the coming months.

So what's next then?

2011-02-27T21:02:00.001-08:00

Haven's sequel.

I'm taking tomorrow off and getting started on it March 1st, again tentatively to be released early June. Could be sooner or later, we'll see how the next few months unfold.

Ivan is Live...

2011-02-25T23:43:00.000-08:00

The lovely links on your right will direct you to the places you can purchase, as well as the sample chapter. Enjoy!

The Legend of Ivan: First Chapter

2011-02-24T12:04:00.000-08:00

In anticipation for its release tomorrow, not just the except but all of chapter one is being posted here and will remain as a sample for those looking to see the type of work the Legend of Ivan is.

Chapter 1: Alcohol

Many of my meetings occur in bars.

This is not an unusual principle. When seeking information, my everlasting quarry, it is best to find subjects in the most amiable mood. A bar represents a location where leisure attitudes spring forth. It is a comfort zone for many.

There is also alcohol.

Alcohol.

For ages, eons, long before the muddy dregs of Old Earth cast humanity in search of a less toxic habitability. Long before colonization reached the far edges of the galaxy. Millennia prior to centralized government crumbling before the wealth and might of corporate interest. Indeed, centuries before the thought of entering that infinite void crossed the pitiful minds of the earliest civilized inhabitants of that ill-fated planet...

Alcohol has been a most effective facilitator.

Pair a comfort zone with a decrease in motor functions, not to mention a quelling of inhibitions. Suddenly, the most bizarre stranger becomes a brother, nemesis, lover, or some combination of all three within a few moments of indelicate, slurred speech. For certain, the risk becomes that their ramblings will often tend towards the unintelligible, but this is of little concern. Memory in the inferior structure of a standard human brain vanishes, represses, and erodes regardless of how much blunt force trauma or poison is applied. Simply: the squishy tissue doesn't retain information so well to begin with.

My task is not only to gather the pitiful, vomitous remains of human memory but to interpret them: to glean the tiny semblances of truth and reality found within.

I seek Ivan, a man of myth and wild, absurd tales. I seek him, if indeed he exists.

The beginning of this long journey, naturally, took place in a bar.

Hours of waiting, sipping on a simple solution of grain alcohol, drove an irritating boredom into my normally patient mind. Unfortunately, the entertainment value of liquor in and of itself does not function as normal within my augmented body.

The substance gave the slightest giddiness to the few organic parts of my brain a few moments before the mechanical functions siphoned it off as a crude energy source and cleaning implement.

I'd arrived on the world called Dessida a couple of days prior, sources and research suggesting someone who had met enigma known as Ivan lived there. A very brief exchange of messages later, the contact named Raymond Cobb suggested a meeting at the bar.

As the alcohol completed its brief round of clouding and vanishing, I let myself marvel at the fabricated artistic-crystal of the glass I held. It was laser cut, done so manually with precision to create specific refractions within its facets. "Where did you get this?" I asked the man tending the bar.

The barkeep, by his attire and stench, appeared to be one of the dirt poor denizens filling the near-fringe world. Dessida lay distant from the core, filled primarily with miners and other working-class individuals. The man carried himself with a well-traveled air, but still...

"It was a fella about four or five years ago," the barkeep spoke with the local lilt, but underneath it were hints of an intelligent, almost educated tone. "He exchanged them for a few drinks and a bit of local coin. I think he musta stole 'em without recognizing their value."

"Did he now?" I rotated the glass, staring at it. It was a very impressive piece, well-cut, dazzling colors shifting and swirling to form fractured and beautiful patterns.

The barkeep set down the identical glass he was polishing. "Why do you ask, Master Archivist?"

I am not often surprised. However, being correctly addressed by what I assumed was a slack-jawed yokel on a backwater planet where luxuries such as the fabricated crystal would cost an individual his home, organs, and ten years worth of salary came as a bit of a shock.

"You know what I am," I said, hints of a question in an otherwise flat tone.

The barkeep nodded. "Certainly. Your kind is hard to mistake. The etchings there give it away." He pointed to the faint insignia upon the metal above my synthetic eye.

My breath caught in my throat. "You've seen more. Recently?"

"No, no." The barman chuckled. "In my years merchanting core-ward, I saw a couple of you Archivists out and about. Never struck up a chat or anything, but..." He shrugged. "That was before my luxurious retirement out in these lovely parts."

Impressed, I asked for his name.

"Francis Basil, at your service, good sir." He grinned. "Can I refresh that for you?"

I agreed, and the barkeep, who shook off more of my assumption of brain-dead illiteracy with each passing moment, refilled my drink. My tip was more generous.

"Thank you kindly," he said, scooping up the paper and coin currency. "Now, what could a fine seeker such as yourself be doing out here on the ass-end of the galaxy."

I smiled, liking this man. "I'm looking-"

Before I could highlight anything particular, the saloon-style doors banged open. Two individuals entered, and it took barely a moment for me to assume there would be trouble.

They were raucous, loud, and carefree as they greeted a couple of familiar patrons. Their middle-grade IQ almost spewed from their pores as their half-literate speech washed over me.

The lead man, fresh and ripe after a day's labor, spotted me at the far end of the bar. "Aw geez, Frank. Why ya gotta let that Grayskin freak in here?"

The insult didn't particularly bother me, as it has always seemed an accurate description. Mechanical parts made up a considerable portion of my body, including full prosthetics for my right arm and leg as well as the upper-right portions of my face and skull. Internal augmentations bring the rest of my muscle and bone structure to a higher strength and density to match the prosthetics.

The true mastery, however, of my altered architecture exists within the cranial changes. Implants lay within every cubic centimeter of my brain tissue, creating a significant boost to my faculties, especially that of memory. More than half of my body, including the externally visible prosthetics of my limbs and skull, one synthetic eye, and other internal components, is machine.

A byproduct of these augmentations was an ashen hue to organic flesh. Hence: "Grayskin." There were repigmentation treatments to bring back a semblance of normal human skin tone, but I've never bothered with them.

Francis was more irritated by the insult than I was. "Stow it, Parker, he's a well-mannered customer, and the only color I care about is green."

Admiration growing, I smiled.

With a lingering glare, Parker grabbed two bottles of weak ale for himself and his friend. They sat down at a round wooden table and stole the occasional glance in my direction, animosity obvious.

"Thanks," I said to Francis as he came near again.

He shook his head. "Don't thank me yet."

Grimacing, I set down the glass. A quick systems diagnostic flitted past my synthetic eye. Green lights shone from each mechanical function. As always, my body was in pristine condition, ready for any encounter.

Time passed, and I began to feel more comfortable. Francis and I didn't speak any further as the ruffians put away several bottles each.

"Hey, Grayskin," the one known as Parker called from across the bar. "You best watch yer step. Some folk don't take kindly to mechanoid freaks."

We only like God-fearin', true-blood humans 'round these parts, the silent voice of so many rang in my head. It wasn't unusual to find intolerance towards augmentation out away from the core. They would sooner see a man with a peg leg than a brand new, fully functional limb.

Francis scowled. "Parker, I'm warning you..."

The ruffian held his hands up. "Easy, old-timer. I'm just tellin' the Grayskin how it is."

"I've been 'round these parts before," I said, lilting into a mocking tone. "I reckon I dun know how it works."

The barman cracked a slight grin.

Accurate as the imitation was, Parker was neither impressed nor amused. He stood up, and his cohort joined him a moment later.

"Is that funny, Grayskin?" Parker asked, moving across the bar to me.

"I thought so." I took a sip.

"Archivist..." Francis warned, amusement fading.

I put up a hand. "I'll pay for any damage." The barkeep sighed in response.

"What's that?" Parker asked as he and his friend neared.

Considering options, I double-checked the various hidden defense mechanisms I held. Unbeknownst to any present, a row of needles flitted out of hidden housings on my mechanical hand and retracted, functioning as normal. A tranquilizer delivery mechanism is often an excellent way to avoid damaging confrontation with people or even animals. If necessary, I could pressurize the housing chambers and fire the needles up to thirty feet. The two folks would hardly know what hit them before waking up a few hours later under the duress of a terrible headache.

The sonic emitter in my skull plate, useful for a brief moment of incapacitation in a five foot radius, warmed up with an inaudible whine before powering down again. Other systems for electronic security bypass and intrusion, a cache of listening devices, and various others were not useful in this situation.

"Well?" Parker snorted. "Whatcha gotta say to me, freak?"

With the amazing technology geared to defend my person against all manner of threat, I decided to use my bare hands.

Stuck on this stinking ball of dirt for two days, waiting in this tavern for three hours past the agreed meeting time, and bathing in the brain-dead existence of this low-brow planet left me somewhat cranky.

Parker put his hand on my shoulder. "You better answer me!"

I didn't bother to give any warnings.

Standing and whirling around, I slipped out of Parker's grip and kicked his cohort in the face. With a sickening crunch, the man's nose shattered, and he was knocked out cold before gravity could catch up and drag him to the dusty floor.

Parker had enough time to gasp at the sudden incapacitation of his friend as I grabbed him by the arm, pulled him forward, and slammed him facedown into the bar. He sputtered, dazed as he struggled against my grip. In a swift motion, I dragged his arm up, giving it a good wrench and hearing the satisfying pop as his shoulder dislocated.

The pain must have been glorious, considering the howling which ensued. He was lucky. A little more twisting, and I could have taken home a souvenir.

"Are you finished?" I asked, leaning down.

Parker didn't really respond in any coherent sense; his latest tactic seemed to be trying to burst my eardrums with pathetic wailing.

I let him fall to the ground, nodding an apology to the barkeep, who rolled his eyes. As I sat back down, Parker's screeching died to a mishmash of whimpering curses. "Jeesuss," he cried. "You broke my arm. You broke my arm, ya goddamn freak!"

"It's dislocated," I said, taking a sip.

Shaking his head, the bartender moved to the wall, where a simple communicator interface lay silent. He punched in a few buttons to contact the local authorities, and a face appeared after a moment.

"Franky," the man greeted him with a grimace, "isn't it a little early for trouble?"

The barkeep sighed and shook his head. "Sorry, Chief, I got a couple of injured dipshits here who need patchin' up. They attacked a guest of mine and got themselves hurt."

"Yeah, I'll be right there."

I sipped at my drink more freely now that I felt the danger past. Parker remained on the ground, whimpering weakly and cursing. Consciousness had not returned, nor likely would for quite a while, to his friend.

More than a few wide-eyed expressions greeted me as the local constabulary arrived along with medical staff. Francis gave his statement and pointed the ruffians out as the perpetrators. He insisted the boys had learned their lessons and no charges needed pressing.

The officers and medics didn't speak to me. A couple featured the ever-popular animosity, but they all seemed wary and afraid, realizing I wasn't just some schmuck with mechanical prosthetics. I'd bet three of my cortical processors that none of them had ever heard of an Archivist. We're not very common so far out.

We're not very common at all.

I grew impatient as the mess was cleaned up. From the activity, most of the patrons departed for quieter, less activity-filled accommodations, but there remained no sign of my contact.

"Well, now ya done it." Francis wagged a finger at me once everything was taken care of. "This place'll be crickets for the next couple of days."

I considered telling him the chirping insects were not native to this world, but tact suggested a different approach. "Sorry for the trouble," I said.

The barkeep waved off the apology. "No need, no need. Takin' care of this heap is my retirement, so empty days give me a chance to enjoy some peace."

"Still," I said, producing a large wad of currency. I placed it on the table. "Will that cover what you'd have made tonight?"

Francis threw back his head and laughed. "Son, that'd be about a weeks worth."

Shrugging, I pushed the money across the counter. "Consider us even, then, as long as you assist me briefly in my search."

"Ah yes," he nodded, "I admit I'm a bit curious. Who might you be lookin' for?"

I swept off my hat, scratching the thin, brittle hair remaining to my organic scalp. "Raymond Cobb; he has information for me, and we set up-"

"Sorry to say, Archivist, but Cobb moved on from these parts not two days ago."

"He told me he lived nearby and frequented this location," I said, clenching a fist. "In our messages, he himself suggested we meet here."

The barkeep nodded. "Certainly. Time was you could find ol' Cobb sittin' right where you are, pissin' away what little life he had left. However, it seemed he ran outta money and hopped a shuttle to the next shit-mining world before any of his substantial number of creditors knew what hit 'em."

Sighing, I stood up. "Then I've wasted my time here. Where did he go?"

"'Fraid I can't say." The barkeep shrugged. "He stopped in here to pay a small bit of his outstanding tab and bid me a fond farewell. Hell, I never expected him to-"

"I appreciate your time and kindness," I said, straightening my long coat, "but I need to leave. I must track down where this shuttle went. Please tell me the exact time of his departure, if you can."

"Oh, it was about... Tuesday 'round four in the afternoon." Frustration pulsed within my veins, as I'd then need to find if the local station kept decent enough records. Of course it was also assuming Cobb didn't give a false name or stowaway on board. Hopefully the outbound traffic was slow enough that I'd only have to search a couple of systems to get back on track.

"Hold up!" Francis called as I moved towards the exit. "Yer not workin' fer one of his collectors, are ya?"

I shook my head.

The barkeep motioned for me to sit back down. "I was probably the closest thing Cobb had to a friend around here. Maybe I can help you out?"

I contemplated the possibility. A bartender can be like a primitive Archivist, in a way. Stories, gossip, and information flows freely in this kind of environment. Of course, the standard brain architecture can't process near as much data, but...

"What do you know?" I asked.

Francis grinned. "What were you lookin' for?"

I took a deep breath. "Various leads suggested that Raymond Cobb interacted with the man known as Ivan on the world TF-557, named-"

"Hunter's End." Francis laughed out loud. "Oh, I know this one. Cobb'd been spewin' this story for years. I always kinda wondered how much there really was to it." He shrugged. "You being here means that there's gotta be some truth to those tales about Ivan, yeah?"

I gave a nod. "My employer seems to believe so, and the sparse records left from Hunter's End do state that someone called Ivan, whether imposter or otherwise, came and left during the time when Cobb was employed there."

"Oh yeah," the barkeep nodded seriously. "I know exactly what yer lookin' for."

I sat back down. The ever familiar hunger, the allure of fresh information, settled into my mind. "Tell me."

-----

The Legend of Ivan will be released as soon as approval goes through for Amazon and PubIt. The novel is priced at $2.99 and is of the science fiction adventure/space opera genre.

Enjoy!

A Poem for a Cat

2011-02-22T20:18:00.000-08:00

Pangur Ban

I and Pangur Ban my cat,
Tis a like task we are at:
Hunting mice is his delight,
Hunting words I sit all night.

Better far than praise of men
Tis to sit with book and pen;
Pangur bears me no ill will,
He too plies his simple skill.

Tis a merry thing to see
At our tasks how glad are we,
When at home we sit and find
Entertainment to our mind.

Oftentimes a mouse will stray
In the hero Pangur's way;
Oftentimes my keen thought set
Takes a meaning in its net.

'Gainst the wall he sets his eye
Full and fierce and sharp and sly;
'Gainst the wall of knowledge I
All my little wisdom try.

When a mouse darts from its den
O how glad is Pangur then!
O what gladness do I prove
When I solve the doubts I love!

So in peace our tasks we ply,
Pangur Ban, my cat, and I;
In our arts we find our bliss,
I have mine and he has his.

Practice every day has made
Pangur perfect in his trade;
I get wisdom day and night
Turning darkness into light.

-

I just watched The Secret of Kells, so I looked up the significance of the cat in the film. Based upon an old Irish poem (some posit that the monk who was working on the Book of Kells penned this around the same time, but others suggest it's a bit of Irish embellishment).

Pangur Ban means White Waulker (or Fuller). "Fulling" or "Waulking" is a process of cloth cleansing which resembles the behavior of cats kneading a surface to make it comfortable to sit.

Transporters ruin Star Trek

2011-02-18T09:12:00.001-08:00

Okay, ruin is maybe a little too strong of a statement.

I've still been watching a little of Deep Space Nine, and I marvel at the amount of times within the show that they either use the transporter as a means of saving the day or having to explain around the fact that they can't save the day because something has caused the transporter not to work.

There are some clearly established rules about transporter technology, but they can't always say the same things, "The shields on that spiraling warship leaking anti-matter are still up. Oh, and the leaking anti-matter is interfering also." You've got all kinds of interference types and issues to ruin the transporter picnic.

Or they're just offline, which is used quite a bit of the time. This is unfortunate because one would think someone could just jog over to the shuttles or runabouts and use the fully functioning transporters on those. Or, if time is pressing, use the transporters on those ships to transport Chief O'Brian to the runabouts/shuttles and go from there. This sadly does not happen.

Or there's another issue where suddenly there are limits to the number of people transported because we certainly can't save those seven people in three batches of two and one of one. Or later on when two of the escaped prisoners stay behind to allow the rest to escape, we certainly can't use the fully functioning transporter to pick them up when we get to the ship, which we could have gotten to faster if we used the bloody transporter. This was in one DS9 episode, where the only mention of using the transporter was that there were limits to the number of people grabbed. This led to a daring ground mission where the people had to bust out the prisoners and run back to the Runabout to escape.

Okay, so I do not envy any of the Star Trek writers for constantly having to come up with ways to keep the tension in spite of what really is the most amazing piece of Star Trek technology. The idea of instantaneous teleportation is pretty awesome, but it creates too much of an easy way out of situations, which in turn kind of spoils the tension. And sometimes, how they explain things just feels half-assed. I suppose you run out of malfunctions and excuses after a jillion episodes and seasons, but still...

Anyway, I can't help but wonder how much different Star Trek would be in terms of just general peril if they didn't have those bloody transporters. I suspect a lot of the action would be quite different.

Excerpt!

2011-02-16T09:12:00.000-08:00

The Legend of Ivan

Chapter 1: Alcohol

Many of my meetings occur in bars.

There is also alcohol.

Alcohol.

For ages, eons, long before the muddy dregs of Old Earth cast humanity in search of a less toxic habitability, long before colonization reached the far edges of the galaxy, millennia prior to centralized government crumbling before the wealth and might of corporate interest, and indeed centuries before the thought of entering the infinite void crossed the pitiful minds of the earliest civilized inhabitants of that ill-fated planet...

Alcohol has been a most effective facilitator.

My task is not only to gather the pitiful, vomitous remains of human memory but to interpret them: to glean the tiny semblance of truth and reality found within.

I seek Ivan, a man of myth and wild, absurd tales. I seek him, if indeed he exists.

The beginning of this long journey, naturally, took place in a bar.

Not much going on here

2011-02-15T17:25:00.000-08:00

And not much to report either. Good progress on editing Ivan, and the book is shaping up very nicely. With 10 days left before release, I don't believe I'll have any trouble getting it where it needs to be.

New version of Haven is up; oh yeah and the sequel

2011-02-11T09:45:00.000-08:00

The recently edited Haven is now available at Amazon and Smashwords, so make sure to pick it up if you'd like to have the cleanest, latest version.

How can you tell? It's the only one which has the chapter numberings center justified. If you have that, you're golden.

Many small typos have been corrected, and a few of the more absurdly long and complex sentences have been broken down to make a little more coherent sense. The epilogue chapter, while obviously not wrapping up the whole story, provides another perspective on what happened and a bit of foreshadowing to the next novel.

Speaking of, with Ivan's impending release (Feb 25th!), Haven II (not the title) will be started very soon now. I've got a lot of ideas worked up for it, and I've already figured out the ending: I promise I won't spoil it.

Anyways: I really don't want people to have to re-pay for the newer version of Haven I. Please post a comment if this is not possible for you, and I'll get a coupon code formed for the Smashwords version.

I'm going to put this on a t-shirt someday...

2011-02-10T10:57:00.001-08:00

February 25th

2011-02-09T06:27:00.000-08:00

The Legend of Ivan

'Nuff said.

Update

2011-02-03T09:49:00.000-08:00

I have finished the edit of Haven, and I'm afraid it will be all I can manage for the time being. I caught a fair number of typos, but I didn't quite give it the same royal treatment A Fickle Fate received. After so many readings, it was difficult to maintain a perfect focus.

Yes, yes. I understand hiring an editor would be a good idea. I believe I will somewhere down the line, when I can afford to do so.

In any case, I did add an epilogue chapter which will hopefully calm the irritation for the ending down, and I will be starting the Haven sequel once The Legend of Ivan is released. I'll post a reminder when the edited (maybe final) version of Haven is up, and I encourage everyone to reobtain it by some means that doesn't involve paying again if it was already purchased. If you got it free and can't get it again without paying, you have my blessing to find some way to get the updated version at no cost.

A Fickle Fate: Chapter 1

2011-01-28T19:49:00.000-08:00

At someone's excellent suggestion, I've decided to post the first chapter of A Fickle Fate. Enjoy!

-------

Chapter 1: Evaluations

David Martin sat in front of his computer, pecking at the keyboard. Sales records, profits, incentives. It took very little mental capacity to input this mindless statistical information. As the Assistant Manager of Customer Service at Global Marketplace International, David often found himself assigned this manner of work. The din of phones ringing filled the background. Phone operators addressed complaints or engaged in cheap trinket-hocking.

"How's it going, Dave?" A heavy hand fell upon his shoulder, squeezing in what was probably intended to be an affectionate manner. However, with the strength of the six foot plus and built-like-a-truck manager, Chuck Samuelson, the gesture was quite painful.

David winced at the bones grinding in his shoulder as well as the nickname. Not turning away from his entry, he replied, "Not too bad, Chuck. How 'bout you?" He absentmindedly rubbed his shoulder.

In spite of his imposing nature, Chuck was a nice guy if a bit too timid for a boss. "Oh, I'm fine, just fine. Thanks." The muscle-bound man leaned up against the thin wall of David's cubicle. The weak material leaned under Chuck's weight, creaking in protest. "Sorry to bother you, Dave, but I'm afraid I need to ask you a favor."

"Uh-huh, sure." David finished filling in another spreadsheet box and saved the document. He swiveled around. "What do you need?"

Chuck tossed down a thick folder stuffed with papers. "Employee evaluations." A consoling expression crossed the manager's face.

"Again?" David asked, wincing. "I thought we only did those once a year."

"Yeah, usually. However, corporate wants another round to see if they can weed out the problem children."

"Problem children?" David said, a little too loudly. He lowered his voice. "What a crock. What's the excuse? More outsourcing? Affirmative action?"

"Both, probably."

David rolled his eyes. "Do we have to do personnel interviews, too?"

"The whole mess. Interviews, questionnaires, coworker evals." Chuck shrugged. "Sorry, that's the way it is."

"They sending someone in to help us again?"

"Yep, usual tribunal of judgment." Chuck nodded. "The corporate rep is supposed to be a different fellow, I think."

David rubbed his face. "We at least going to get paid overtime for this?"

"Over-what?"

David gave a bitter smirk. "All right, I guess so. When do we start?"

"This afternoon in the conference room." Chuck clapped him on the shoulder. "I'll come get you when it's time." He turned around for a moment before stopping. "Oh," he snapped his fingers, "I know it's going to be kind of a pain, but make sure and get those reports finished before we start." David opened his mouth to object to the unreasonable request, but Chuck was already halfway to his office.

Sighing, David swiveled around and went back to work. Bloody hell, he thought, figuring he'd at least try to buckle down and blaze through it. It's not possible; not with the interviews this afternoon. I'm going to have to stay late and finish them. He frowned, clenching a fist against his forehead. I guess it doesn't matter. I don't have anywhere to be tonight. "Or ever…"

Bitter curses at poor life choices rolled through his mind, and David returned to work. A few minutes later the memo email popped up, informing everyone about the upcoming surprise interviews. David didn't bother opening it.

His phone rang. Donning the headset, he tapped the button and answered. "GMI Manhattan. This is the Assistant Manager, David Martin. How may I help you?"

"Hey, Dave," an exasperated female voice came through. One of the phone operators, he thought. Jenny, maybe? "I've got a weird guy here I don't know what to do with."

"Okay," David replied. "What's he saying?"

The girl took on an irritated tone. "I don't know. He's just some freak."

David rolled his eyes. "All right. I'll take care of it."

A few seconds later, the line was transferred over to him. He gave a quick glance to his watch. "Good morning. This is David, the assistant manager. How may I help you?"

"A call center? Really?" an incredulous male voice came through the line. "Could you possibly get any more dull or cliché?"

Confused, David replied, "I'm sorry, is there something I can help you with?"

"I mean seriously," the voice continued, "here you are, Mr. David Martin, the most unique person to ever grace the planet, and you're working in this utterly average, boring, insignificant, typical, and let's face it, chump job. After all this work, I thought you might be a little more-"

"Excuse me, sir?" David said, interrupting the strange rant. "I'm sorry, but is there a certain problem you have with Global Marketplace or any of its products?"

"Directly no, but conceptually, God yes!" the man continued. "Someone like you finding himself peddling the most useless garbage. Faux-ethnic kitsch? For real Martin? Good gravy, even your name is dull! I swear by your dead parents-"

David squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm sorry, sir, do I know you?"

"No!" the voice shouted. "I mean, yes. Or maybe. Not yet, you don't, but give it a minute and maybe you might-"

"Sir?" David asked, trying to cut through the babble. "Sir. Sir! Please, sir, do you have a valid question?"

"All questions are valid, David," the man said in a stern, condescending-professor sort of tone. "Except those regarding existentialism. Seriously, what the hell is the point? If Kierkegaard or Heidegger had even the slightest clue about the true nature of the universe, they'd have found real jobs or killed themselves. How's that for a philosophical problem, Camus?!"

Bewildered, David's practiced phone composure slipped. "What are you talking about?"

"It doesn't matter! None of it. How can you describe a system by which people move from existence to essence by way of choice when nothing in and among it matters even the slightest bit? Predetermination, fatalism, unauthenticity and the illusion of free will?"

Why am I still listening to this crackpot? David wondered. With a firm tone, he said, "Listen, sir. I apologize I cannot be of any help. If you have any serious questions or concerns about GMI or its products, direct your queries to Corporate Headquarters. Have a nice day."

He disconnected the line, not caring he hadn't provided a number for the strange man to call. David removed his headset and rubbed his eyes. Standing up, he gripped his plain mug with the intent of grabbing another cup of coffee. As he moved down the aisle toward the break room, he paused.

David stopped by a phone station, where a young woman, a cuteish red-head with freckles, was chicken-peck typing information on her computer. She wore a tank-top and dangling star-shaped earrings. Not exactly dress-code, he thought. "Jenny?" he asked.

She whirled around in her chair and scowled. "It's Jessie."

"Ah, geez, I'm sorry. Weird day so far."

"Yeah, I guess." She gave him a blank stare. "What do you want?"

It was obvious even to David that she was trying to blow him off, but curiosity sparked. "The guy you transferred over to me. He say anything weird to you?"

Jessie gave a short laugh. "Did he say anything not weird? He asks if a guy named Martin works here and starts ranting about the space time continuum or some shit."

David wondered if the girl knew Martin was his last name. I suppose she wouldn't care, he thought. "Was that all?"

She shrugged, bare shoulders bumping into the low-hanging earrings. "I dunno. Once he started chattering, I put him on hold and sent him to you."

"Right," David said, unnerved.

Jessie turned back around without a word and went back to her work. David could see tabs of shopping in her browser and minimized chat windows, but he didn't care enough to call her on it. After all, we've got evaluations soon anyway, he thought.

David entered the break room, unusually empty for this time of day. It didn't house much: a countertop with a microwave, a small fridge, a couple of vending machines. It also had a coffeemaker which usually contained fairly fresh coffee.

It was empty.

David sighed. Not a big deal, but still. "What's with this day?" he muttered, grabbing the can of grounds and a new filter.

A few minutes later, with coffee happily percolating in the ancient maker, a piece of the strange conversation rang in David's head. The most unique person on the face of the planet? Is that what he said?

"Unique my ass…" David said, checking on the coffee.

"Ooh, yeah? How so?" a voice popped up from behind.

Startled, David jumped, heart slamming into his throat. "Jesus!" he yelled, spinning around.

Facing the stranger, he saw a man in a pinstripe suit and fedora. It was an appearance more suited to a soft jazz singer at an upscale lounge or trendy music club.

Clutching his chest, David asked, "Who... who are you? I didn't hear anyone come in."

"Me?" the stranger said, splaying the fingers on both hands toward himself. "I suppose that's a rather interesting question." Something about the man was nagging in familiarity. Since they didn't often get guests...

"Are you the representative from corporate?" David asked.

"Me?" the stranger repeated. "That too, could be an interesting question. What would you say if I said yes?"

David stared at him, confused. "Well… I'd say you're a little early. We weren't going to start the evaluations until this afternoon."

"Ah!" The stranger snapped his fingers. "The evaluations! I love this part. Been looking forward to it for a long time, I have."

"You have?" David asked. "I always thought they were kind of tedious."

The stranger waved his hand. "They're quite a bit more valuable than you might realize and ever so much fun!" He put the tip of his finger to his lips and tilted his head. "Well, actually they as a collective aren't. Or might not be. We'll have to see how it unfolds."

"Okay, I guess." David reached for the coffee pot. "What was your name, again?"

"Again? No, this is the first and only time, my friend. There is only one, and that's what we get." He wagged his finger. "And what we get is running low."

David squeezed his eyes shut, a feeling of bizarre confusion remarkably similar to the recent phone conversation. "Oh!" He pieced the strange dialogue together and recognized the voice. "You called in a few minutes ago."

"Oh sure, I call lots of places," the stranger said with a smug tone.

Ah crap, it must have been part of a service evaluation, David thought. But why so weird, and why is he still at it? David didn't have a clue, but he decided to play along anyway.

"All right, well, you should probably let Chuck know you've arrived. He might want to get started a little earlier on the evals." David gestured in the vague direction of Chuck's office.

"Right, Chuck." The man from corporate bounded to the door, and with a flourishing bow, he ducked out.

At least he's not boring, David thought.

He finished pouring his cup of coffee, put a dash of cream in it, and went back to his desk.

******

After a while, David leaned back from his computer screen. Only about half an hour had passed, but he'd made some mild progress on the entries. Rubbing his eyes, he swiveled around. Chuck was walking down the aisle, appearing somewhat grim.

David stood up. "What's wrong?" he asked as the manager approached.

"I don't like what's happening." Chuck shook his head. "For one, this guy from corporate is nuts. For two, it sounds like this entire evaluation process is going to be nothing but a hatchet job on the employee roster."

David swallowed hard, remembering the surprise phone call and wondering if his behavior had been appropriate. "C'mon, it can't be that bad."

"I don't know, but I think he wants to get started in a few minutes."

Checking his watch, David asked, "At a quarter to noon?"

"Yep. No lunch break."

David sighed, retrieving the empty coffee cup from his desk. "All right, I'll be there in just a sec." He started walking toward the break room.

A few minutes later, fresh cup of coffee and small stack of personnel files in tow, he walked into the conference room. The corporate representative was already seated, leaning back with his feet up on the long table. Instead of the pinstripe suit, he wore a sky blue sweater with dull khaki pants and soft brown loafers. The clothing reminded him of…

"Mister Rogers?" he said under his breath. Oof. Haven't thought about that show in a long time.

"Dave!" The guy threw his arms wide open, shouting the name as though David were an old friend. "Glad you're here!"

"Really? I guess-"

"Sure, sure," the corporate rep interrupted, grinning. "I mean, the sooner we get this going, the sooner we can get you outta here, am I right?"

David widened his eyes. What's that supposed to mean? He felt a slight surge of jittery hope and worry. Does that mean I'm getting promoted, or am I going to get fired? His mind spun, balking at the possibilities.

He walked over, seating himself next to the man. A realization struck. "Say," David spoke, "I didn't catch your name."

The man swung his legs down and sprang up. Planting one foot upon his chair, he took a deep breath and boomed, "I am known as Mixolydian Kittridge Valencia Stradivarius Wilbur von Kaiser the Third!"

Baffled, David asked, "What?"

The strange man crouched low, giving David a wink and thrusting out a hand. "Just call me Mick."

Reluctantly, David reached out and grasped the hand, which was icy cold. "Sure, Mr… Mick."

"No, no, no! My father is Mr. Mick." He cocked his head. "Well actually, he is more like Mr. Infinity plus Destiny, or some crazy crap." He waved his hands back and forth. "Whatever, the important thing is to call me Mick and not Micks. I know it makes more sense as a nickname for Mixolydian, but I don't want to be seen as multiple-ly Irish."

David found this to be awfully confusing, so he nodded.

Thankfully, Chuck came in, forestalling any continuance of the conversation. His eyes widened when he saw the man calling himself Mick. "You changed?"

"Sure. I always find the aura of comfort provided to underlings by wearing casual, friendly clothing to be quite necessary in proceedings such as these."

Chuck pursed his lips and shrugged. "Okay, fair enough."

Mick clapped his hands together. "Excellent. Have a seat, and bring on the first victim!"

Pausing at the door, Chuck's eyes widened, and he appeared quite unsettled by the man's exuberance. After a moment, he wordlessly took a seat on Mick's left, opposite David.

David cleared his throat, pulling out a file and passing it over. "All right, first up we're going to have Jeremiah Dalton. He's been with the company four months now. He missed out on the last round of evaluations, so this will be his first."

"Good, good. Progress is good." Mick nodded with enthusiasm.

David frowned, not knowing how to respond. "I'll… go ahead and get him." He stood up and went outside of the conference room. Jeremiah was waiting, informed a few minutes prior not to take any calls. He was a youngish kid, probably a college student. He saw David and stood, a questioning expression upon his face. David waved him over.

They went into the conference room, and David resumed his seat at the right hand of Mick. Jeremiah sat across from the three, trying to appear confident.

"All right, so as you know-" Chuck began.

"I like you Jeremiah," Mick interrupted. "You've been like a son to me."

The employee's eyes widened. He glanced back and forth between Chuck and David, confused. Chuck's mouth hung open in surprise, and David gave a helpless shrug.

"Yes," Mick continued. "A son. You've got a decent record in your many years of service, and we've been considering you for promotions and raises for quite a long time."

Jeremiah perked up. "Really? Wow, that's amazing-"

"Unfortunately," Mick cut in. "You're fired. Have a nice day." He slouched in the chair and put his feet up. "Who's next?"

A heartbeat of silence resounded. Shocked by the casual termination, David, Chuck, and Jeremiah all started talking at once. A rambled mishmash of, "You can't be serious, this is ridiculous, how can he/I be fired," filled the room.

Mick sprang to his feet. "I am from corporate! My word is law, and I've been sent to clean house!"

Jeremiah appeared on the verge of tears. Chuck, big as he was, seemed pitiful and powerless. Rather than speaking, the manager focused intently on a piece of paper in front of him.

Finally, David stood up, grabbing the dismayed former employee by the arm and leading him out of the room. Outside, he said, "Take the rest of the day off, but don't clean out your desk just yet. We'll see if we can get this sorted out more properly."

Jeremiah snapped his head toward David, anger lighting his face. "No!" he shouted. "You know what? Screw you. Screw this job. You can all rot in hell for all I care if this is how the company treats people! I'm going to contact the Better Business Bureau on your asses. You can bet on it!"

He stormed out, stopping to grab a couple of various implements on his desk. A few of the other employees looked on with nervous interest, startled by the aftermath of the first evaluation. David thought some of things Jeremiah picked up might have not belonged to him. He didn't try to stop it, instead blowing out a heavy sigh and returning to the conference room.

Next up was Rose Parkson, a mid-thirties woman who had been with the company for six years. Single and living alone, she had no children or important family to speak of. The woman was thin and gangly, not particularly attractive with huge, thick glasses. Before she even sat, Mick stood up.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" he said, putting his hands out. "Just stop right there, Miss... Who are you?"

"I'm Rose? Rose Parkson." She blinked, confusion across her features.

Mick shook his head. "Not anymore you're not. Clean out your desk."

"What?!" David and Chuck both yelled.

"Next!" Mick settled into his chair and threw his feet back up. He ignored the other two, who continued loud objections.

Rose, lower lip quivering in the most pitiful fashion, burst into tears. David leapt up and guided her out of the room. He brought her to the break room and gave her a tissue. He explained it was a corporate decision and measures would be taken by both he and Chuck to alleviate the problem. "Go ahead," he said. "Go home for the day; I'll make sure you still get paid."

She nodded numbly, her nose an angry red under the huge glasses. She sniffled, taking her coat and walking out the door. The rest of the employees now appeared quite frightened, seeing the horrific reactions from the first two evaluations.

The next was even worse. David started to relax in the twenty minute duration as the next victim spoke. Brenna Dale, a smart and pretty college kid, had attained one of the best records for her year and a half of employment. To his credit, Mick was entirely professional, asking questions about her satisfaction with the company and how she felt about her performance and coworkers.

Mick smiled warmly, nodding as the barrage of questions tapered off. "Well, I think I've heard enough. Your performance has been more than adequate. Congratulations, Miss Dale. You're fired."

Brenna's eyes popped wide, and the beaming smile vanished from her face. David squeezed his own eyes shut. Chuck hid his face behind a hand, elbow propped on the table.

"W-what?" Brenna asked.

"What, you've got a hearing problem?" Mick asked. "You're a stellar employee, now get the hell out."

Furious, Brenna raised her chin defiantly and shouted, "Fine!" before storming out of the room. David tried to catch up to her as she left, but she rushed out too quickly for him to inform her of any reparations.

When he came back in, Chuck was talking to Mick. "…can't keep firing all of our employees."

Mick flashed him a wicked grin. "Not gonna lie to you Chuck. Corporate has been most displeased with the performance of this branch." He shook his head in disapproval. "They sent me to assess it, and I can't say I'm impressed. We might just have to shut this one down, salvaging what we can out of it."

David and Chuck both stopped breathing, letting the shock of the situation settle in. "Surely it hasn't been that bad," Chuck pleaded.

"Oh yes it has," Mick replied. "And don't call me Shirley!" He burst out laughing.

The other two exchanged nervous glances. All at once the rolling laughter ceased, and Mick sat up in his chair. "All right. Who's next?"

The process continued. David relegated himself to merely standing up and gathering the next victim, sitting passive and without hope as each employee was subjected to the chopping block. At the end, he led each person away, telling them management would sort things out. He was met with varying degrees of anger, sorrow, and passive uncaring.

He took Jessie out of her evaluation. She shrugged when he apologized. "This job sucks."

"All right." David sighed. "If there's anything I can-"

"Later," she said with a dismissive wave, grabbing her possessions and walking out.

David returned. Chuck had his face covered by his hand, lost and confused, but Mick was as cheerful as ever. When David sat down next to him, the strange man narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?" he asked, his tone bathed in suspicion.

"Wha? I'm David. The assistant manager?"

"I don't know…" Mick rubbed his chin. "Never heard of you before."

"You're joking, right?" David asked.

"I don't see anything funny about trespassing." Mick's face held a deadpan expression.

Chuck didn't seem to be listening. David stammered, "I've been sitting here next to you all afternoon while you've… er… fired everyone?"

"No, I'm pretty sure I'd remember something like that." David opened his mouth to speak, but Mick waved him silent. "Tell me Dave; do you think it's important to have an assistant manager?"

A torrent of ice-water cascaded down David's back. He babbled, "W-well, you know, I think it's been, you know, uh, very helpful to Chuck here." He gestured at his boss, who provided no comment. Mick stared at David, slowly shaking his head back and forth.

"That, a-and," David continued. "It's been uh, m-more of a title than anything else. I still answer phones, and record data, and…" he trailed off, grasping for more. "I only get paid about fifty cents more per hour than any of the regular operators."

Mick eyed him for a moment. "All right. You can stay." He raised his eyebrow. "For now. Bring in the next one."

David numbly stood up, feeling very much like he'd dodged a bullet. He went out of the conference room, intending to call the next victim. Instead, he spotted a short balding man clad in a brown suit and carrying a briefcase. The man watched the work progress of the few remaining people.

Forgetting the evaluations for a moment, David moved over to him. "Hello, can I help you?"

The man pointed toward the empty cubicles. "You're awfully understaffed today. Has there been a problem?"

******

"All right you son of a bitch…" David started, bursting into the conference room. Chuck sat there, passively staring off into the distance. The center chair was empty, its occupant nowhere in the room. "What the…? Where did he go?"

"Huh?" Chuck raised his head.

"Where did he go? Where is Mick?"

"I don't know; I think he said he was going to the bathroom."

David bared his teeth and turned to the door as the man in the brown suit walked into the conference room. "What is going on here?" he asked.

Chuck frowned. "Who are you?"

Before hurrying out the door, David stopped to say, "Chuck, meet Harold Appia, the representative from corporate."

Leaping to his feet, Chuck dwarfed the smaller man, and he yelled, "What?!"

-----

The full novel is still currently available (perhaps for a limited time, we'll see) at any of the sites on the right.

Pricing Theory

2011-01-27T09:13:00.001-08:00

This is going to be a fair warning to anyone who is on the fence about picking up A Fickle Fate. I am most likely going to raise it from 0.99 cents to 2.99 within the next couple of weeks. Though a slow start for the novel is not terribly surprising, I'm honestly wondering if I might not move more copies at a higher price point.

Looking at the Amazon page, I see the "Other users also bought," and "Users bought instead," sections featuring a lot of free books. If a theory could be made that people browsing for new ebooks to buy are looking in price ranges (free to low, low to medium), then I'm not really going to be able to compete with the free selection.

Perhaps, and this is oversimplifying by a wide margin, buyers can be broken down into 2 groups: those who will grab anything which is cheap, and those who consider price as relating to quality. In either case, .99 might not work because the first group will invariably choose the free books, and the second will say that .99 is too cheap to possibly be of good quality.

So, as an experiment, I'm going to raise the price of A Fickle Fate because I honestly consider it a possibility that *more* people will purchase it. Depending upon what happens, I'll leave it there for a month or somesuch. However, if you still want it at the cheaper price: grab it soon.

Conversely, I'll probably make Haven's sequel 99 cents, in case anyone was concerned. Most people who pick that up are going to be folks who have read the first, so I don't think I have much to worry about in terms of people considering it not worth grabbing compared to something free.

Deep Space Nine

2011-01-24T09:04:00.000-08:00

I often go back and forth on the various Star Trek series of the last few decades. I don't hold much love for original Trek, as I have no rose-colored novelty glasses with which to ignore the very thick schlock covering everything they have. Revolutionary? Yes. Amazing for its time? Absolutely? Filled with repetitive storylines, endless retcons, and a somewhat caricature-ish nature of the heroes and villains? Definitely.

The Next Generation dove more fully into the hard sci-fi of Star Trek while dealing with the politics and ethics of different space civilizations. Still featuring a fair level of schlock, it was very quite good at the very least because of Sir Patrick Stewart. Characters appeared more fleshed-out, balanced, and it wasn't always about getting Kirk some alien-babe action.

I've recently started to watch Deep Space Nine, and at first it seemed to be floundering a bit in terms of its goal. They had a couple of the moral dilemma episodes, but there was no focus, no reason to care as of yet. Even the future science focus seemed to slip away, lampshading away technical issues and ignoring other bizarre things (Odo ignores the Law of Conservation of Mass, anyone? The historical/telepathic matrix of the dead civilization can be sucked out of an airlock as though it was a tangible substance? Why can the runabout only transport two people one scene and seven the next?). However, the last few episodes of season one and the first few of season two seem to be hitting the stride of why made DS9 quite good: a serial, long-arcing story. While the focus remains on ethical/political intrigue (and they're doing a smashing job so far), even the action sequences and stunts appear to have improved.

Well, I'm still digging into the series as a whole. Like every other Sci-fi put out, it has its flaws, but as the story unfolds, I'm finding myself more and more drawn in. It's a good thing.

Oh so very close...

2011-01-22T20:49:00.001-08:00

Ivan's got about 5-10 pages left to be written, so pretty much the novel will be done by Wednesday. Still looking at late February to release, but it depends upon how the editing and artwork process runs.

Admittedly progress on the Haven edit has been slow thus far, but once dedicated it should take a week or less to do. Opinions from the poll suggest people wouldn't mind having an epilogue or the sequel, so I'll probably go ahead and do both.

Cheers on the weekend; been some good relaxation. During the holiday season, I grabbed Mirror's Edge on Steam. In the span of a few hours, I installed it, played it, and removed it from my hard drive.

Palpatine's behind it all!

2011-01-18T07:30:00.000-08:00

I don't particularly care much for the prequel trilogy. Mostly because they're terrible. If you have three or four hours and want to know exactly what makes them so terrible, I'd recommend checking out Red Letter Media.

There are some very strange attempts at humor in the reviews (which also include several of the Next Generation Trek films and a couple of others) as well as an overall odd style, but thereviews are generally funny and, most importantly, quite apt in observation.

In any case, the gist of why the prequels were terrible reside in a general nonsense of plot elements. Gaping holes, poorly constructed lampshades, and confusing motivations make consideration of Star Wars 1-3 a sigh-inducing affair. There are a lot of problems with characterization, dialogue (oh dear GOD dialogue...), a sense that every type of audience appeal is put in no matter how stark in contrast it might be (from little kids to bloodthirsty teens), and other things, but I didn't want to complain too heavily. Other people have that covered.

What I want to mention is that, to me, the Wookipedia (the full Star Wars wiki) entries on pre-Empire events were more interesting to me than all three movies. I learned more about what the hell was actually going on between the awkward scenes and crappy dialogue, and the story there was pretty interesting, in all honesty.

One of the prime mistakes of the prequel trilogy was that there was no strong main character to focus upon. Though old Georgy claims now that the Star Wars Saga (all six films) is about Anakin Skywalker's life, rise, and fall, really most of the story, including prequel and original trilogies, don't deal with him as the main character.

Sure, he's involved and embroiled, but he's pretty much just there in Episode One (he does a couple of things but isn't introduced until more than halfway through), he spends a considerable amount of Episode Two lounging around, and Episode Three grants him limelight, but still no more than the Emperor or Obi-Wan. Aside from that, there was never really any character arc. He started out as a whiny kid, moved toward a whiny adult, continued as a whiny adult, and then killed a bunch of blokes. When Ben Kenobi says in A New Hope, "He was a good friend," it's confusing because there are only a couple of moments in the entire prequel trilogy where Kenobi isn't irritated or straight-out pissed at Anakin. Other materials (graphic novels, books) have established a little more about the friendship they developed, but it isn't really established at all in the films themselves.

Honestly, the most interesting pieces of the pre-Empire story revolve around Palpatine's political maneuvering and rise to power. The kind of stuff he was involved in and did while completely fooling everyone to just how ridiculously powerful he was in the Force was pretty neat. Focusing the story on him would have crafted a more contemplative, slow-paced affair with a considerable amount of shadow-games and political intrigue. Of course, it wouldn't have made as much money, but the producers didn't care about that, right?

The main significance of the prequels was the formation of the Empire, and defeating this entity was what the entire original trilogy was based upon. It's not about some henchman schmuck no matter how cool James Earl Jones makes the voice sound: Vader couldn't take on Admiral Ackbar's fleet all by himself any more than Anakin could have destroyed the droid army. Star Wars is Space Opera (big giant themes not completely focused upon one individual) through and through, and its very title implies the story is about a big, fat, galactic war.

On the other hand, the whole mess appeared to be designed to spew out as much marketing and gobble up as many consumer dollars as possible. If it was actually a good movie with a sharper focus and a more defined, intriguing story, it probably wouldn't have made as much money.

Oi... we needs more Sci-fi in film and television. And not crappy stuff!

An Epilogue?

2011-01-11T13:34:00.000-08:00

There are a couple of small issues I'm considering clarifying when working on the edit of Haven. First, of course are the typos: no need to address that again. Second, I'm actually thinking an epilogue might be a good idea to add as a more detailed wrap-up.

It wouldn't be anything huge or fancy; most likely it's purpose would be to relax the pace of the ending so it wouldn't be as abrupt. Check out the poll, if you have comments, they are certainly welcome.

Okay Haven, put 'em up.

2011-01-07T08:31:00.000-08:00

As there are times in my working here where creative progress falls prey to mindless nothing, I'm going to tentatively start on a second project.

Haven's going to get re-edited. Probably just a chapter at a time, slow and steady progress, but in a few weeks, I'll have it ready to be re-uploaded.

The reasons are two-fold. #1: If it is ever at all remotely possible, readers/supporters deserve to have their complaints/issues addressed. Unfortunately not everyone who has Haven on their Kindles will benefit from a newer, cleaner version, but I'm still going to do it. #2: It'll be a good refresher for when I start writing the sequel next month.

The Legend of Ivan

2011-01-05T09:39:00.000-08:00

He is the destroyer of worlds and the frightener of children. He has started wars and slaughtered millions. He is a man, an alien, a robot, and the devil himself. His legendary physique cripples feminine inhibitions, and his strength can move mountains. He is a gladiator, a scientist, a warrior, a poet, a lover, and a master spy. He saved a flailing transport filled with nuns and sent it spiraling into a sun. He swam in vacuum without protection. He punched a dinosaur.

He is Ivan.

In a galaxy where technology has outpaced structure and reason, the name of Ivan is known far and wide. Thousands of stories ranging across the realm of absurdity flit about in every corner, and no one quite knows if Ivan even exists.

Sid, a half-machine, human recorder known as an Archivist, travels throughout the galaxy in search of the truth behind Ivan's great myth. He gathers and interprets information, discarding the outlandish and seeking the tiny kernels of reality in each tale. As pieces of the legend fall into place, narrow escapes and near-deaths threaten an end to the Archivist's hunt. Unyielding, he is drawn ever deeper into the convoluted pool of madness behind Ivan's tale, and questions grow ever more alarming: What exactly did Ivan do to become so famous, and why is Sid not the only one looking for him?

-----

A little teaser for my 3rd novel, The Legend of Ivan, to be released mid-late February.

Releases and Timetables

2010-12-31T13:39:00.000-08:00

Okay, so the aforementioned things in my life have changed, and I am will be, for a while, granted the ability to work on my writing as my full time job. I have very specific goals for what I want to happen in the next year or so, but I don't want to bore anyone with the gory details.

Let's talk books and releases, as I have a few tentative goals. Subject to change, of course, dependent upon all sorts of factors.

The Legend of Ivan, my current work-in-progress, shall be finished on/before February 1, shooting to edit and release... we'll say March 1. March 1-10: Re-edit Haven.

March 11th: Begin writing The Fall of Haven (or whatever it ends up being called), aiming for an early June finish and a late June release. You heard it here, folks: the Haven story should wrap up sometime this year in late June.

Obviously, I'll keep things updated here and nail down some more concrete dates as they become clearer.

Growing Pains

2010-12-23T11:56:00.000-08:00

I believe, through the many hours embroiled in the editing of A Fickle Fate, that I have discovered where my weaknesses as an author and editor lie.

Most concretely: I find that when I alter something, change the phrasing or any other such item, it pretty much without fail screws something up. You know, miss deleting the original verb/noun, add a few extra words, create a new redundancy that wasn't there before.

In the attempt to overcome typo-ridden text, I really (truly) spent a very long time digging through A Fickle Fate. Hopefully, it pays off.

In either case, with this realization in mind, I do believe I'm going to, at some point in the near future, completely re-edit Haven. Though it probably won't make the slightest difference to many of the folks who already have it and might not ever know that it's been fixed for a redownload, I think the readers deserve to have something that's much cleaner overall. Though I *still* don't have an eReader (shame), I'm guessing/assuming most of the eBook sources don't require a repurchase.

Admittedly, this will probably precede the starting of Haven's Sequel. My target to finish The Legend of Ivan is before the end of January. It's about 50k strong, and, in spite of initially setting out for 100k, I think this one might end up being around 80.

And finally, at Amazon

2010-12-22T17:15:00.001-08:00

US:

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B004GXB57Y

UK:

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B004GXB57Y

Up at Barnes and Noble!

2010-12-22T11:57:00.000-08:00

http://search.barnesandnoble.com/books/product.aspx?ean=2940012033086

$.99 at Smashwords

2010-12-21T10:02:00.000-08:00

Still review pending and B&N and Amazon, but A Fickle Fate is live on Smashwords.

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/34268

I sort of expect it'll be up on the other places tomorrow, but we'll see what happens. I post a link when it goes live. Thanks everyone, and enjoy.

A Kajillion Hours Later

2010-12-21T09:12:00.000-08:00

The book is currently processing in various places. Oooh, and a day early at that. Well, actually it'll probably hit Barnes and Noble and Amazon tomorrow (hopefully) but it might be a couple of days after, depending upon how busy their reviewing process gets. Supposedly it can take up to 2-3 days.

It's at #22 in the Smashwords queue at the moment, so it'll be up by noon; shocking, I know.

A light heads up and thanks to a good friend of mine for helping out with the last round of editing. I'm very hopeful that the significant amount of time spent will create a much cleaner overall book.

I'll post announcements as they come up. Thanks for support and reading everyone. Ima go pass out now.

Brain... dissolving...

2010-12-18T11:18:00.001-08:00

I just finished the first 16 hour edit of A Fickle Fate (in addition to the 6 other ones completed since I finished the book in May). More overall polish, a couple of mistakes removed.

I'm going to try very very hard to have the whole thing ready to be processed on the 21st. I want to do one more heavy, in depth typo hunt.

Amazon does have a 24/48/something hour approval process, and Smashwords has the usually backed-up que for the Meatgrinder. It might be up as late as the 23rd (or *gasp* the 24th) if I can't finish my last heavy edit in time to give breathing room for the upload delays.

I'm going to dive right back in pretty soon here, but I'm going to give my slightly pounding head and bleeding eyes a short break first. Cheerio!

The Short Synopsis

2010-12-16T08:53:00.000-08:00

The 400 character limit (including spaces) for Smashwords book descriptions is a little tricky to work with, but here's what'll be put up:

The second worst day of David's life: missed lunch, fired from job, arrested for murder, and held overnight by police. The worst day: released, shot at, almost run over, again pursued by police, and told to kill someone to save the world. The informant? A crazed and omniscient phantom swearing Fate, the real entity, went mad and is driving the world to oblivion. Oh, and only David can stop it.

99 Cents for A Fickle Fate

2010-12-15T07:01:00.000-08:00

For the time being, due to Christmas spirit, and most likely for an indefinite period afterwards, A FICKLE FATE will be priced at the very affordable $0.99 as an eBook.

Now, due to the Smashwords conversion and distribution process, it's probably going to be a couple of extra weeks before it shows up on Kobo, Barnes & Noble, Sony, and other places, but rest assured it'll get there eventually. Aside from opting in/out of it, the distribution to various sites is not within my control, so patrons of those sites interested in purchase will unfortunately have to be patient.

A Second Novel?! December 22, 2010?!

2010-12-14T08:34:00.001-08:00

A FICKLE FATE is going to be released soon! I believe the date I have in mind to have it submitted to the Smashwords Meatgrinder and the Amazon DTP is 12/22/2010!

I have a lot of work to do between now and then to make it ready to rock, and I apologize if some folks will miss out on it for a bit of time due to the usual craziness of the holiday season, but I definitely want it to be up and out when the slew of holiday Kindles (and other eReaders) get unwrapped this Christmas, and all the rosy-cheeked cherubs scuttle over to the internet to find stuff to cram onto it.

Very short notice, I know, but check back here this week for updates on where I'm at as far as preparations, excerpts, and other fun pre-release junk.

For now, a short excerpt from the prologue:

---

Roberto lay upon on the cold stone, wondering why this apparent great responsibility, given in the form of a lunatic, had come to him instead of someone else. Dear God… I truly believe this man, he realized. Have I lost my own mind? “How is this possible?” he asked.

His companion cracked a wide grin and offered him a hand. “Don’t you sweat the details, kiddo. I’ve got everything under control.” Somehow, the monk was not at all reassured. “Trust me, it’ll all be fine.” He hauled Roberto to his feet and handed him the crossbow. “Oh, by the way, you’ve got about thirty seconds now.”

A chill swept through Brother Roberto as he gripped the smooth wood. The procession had begun passing underneath the bell tower of the chapel, still progressing towards the larger cathedral. A few townspeople loitered about, watching the Inquisition members pass.

Roberto wiped the sweat from his palms on his brown habits and, with small effort, stretched the cord on the device to its firing position. He picked up one of the bolts, quickly examining its length for crookedness or imperfection. He laid it into the housing, ready to fire.

Breathing shallow, Brother Roberto shouldered the weapon. The red-robed man, Tomas de Torquemada, the leader of the Inquisition, who had overseen the torture and death of hundreds, rode beneath. God grant me strength, Roberto prayed silently, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, and let this task be a part of your will.

Sighting in on the robed figure, he started to squeeze the trigger.

“Not yet!” his companion hissed. Brother Roberto jumped, an involuntary clench of his hand almost discharging the weapon. “Wait for my signal,” the other man insisted.

Brother Roberto’s mind screamed over and over. No! You can’t do this! Every second of waiting loosened his resolve. Put the weapon down and walk away. You don’t have to go through with it! In spite of his panic, he kept his aim locked on the red-robed figure. The procession started to move away from the chapel, and, for a moment, he felt relief that he might not have to-

“Shoot now!” his companion yelled.

Roberto’s eyes slid shut as he uttered a small prayer for forgiveness, and he squeezed the trigger. With a snapping twang, the bolt sprang free of the weapon and fired through the air toward its target. Roberto opened his eyes...

---

Stay tuned for more!

Price points

2010-12-13T12:18:00.000-08:00

I've pretty much decided at this point that I'm going to release A Fickle Fate within a relatively soonish period of time on Amazon, B&N, Smashwords, et cetra. Though I'm not entirely certain of when exactly (I'm thinking pre-Christmas, but who knows really), I'm more considering options as far as price.

In order to follow Amazon's royalty mumbo jumbo, I'd like to charge $2.99, but obviously that won't be worthwhile if people are unwilling to pay it. A Fickle Fate is shorter than Haven but still quite far away from the novella end of the length spectrum.

Any thoughts on what would be worthwhile?

Fancy new cover

2010-12-09T08:18:00.000-08:00

I've been fiddling around with GIMP, the freeware Photoshop clone. The image above was pretty close to what I had envisioned for the cover, but it's not quite the final product yet.

This (or something like it) will come into play assuming I move on from attempts at commercial publishing channels to sticking with indie. If nothing else, it'll provide a good starting point if I hire a real artist.

Any comments or suggestions on the color or overall scheme are certainly welcome!

Oh, and I now have a Facebook authory profile set-up for the (somewhat) more consistent ramblings and updates.

Here's a thought

2010-12-06T12:14:00.000-08:00

I've still been thinking about the issue of typos and mistakes within the independent publishing realm, and I considered another way of thinking about it in general.

Perhaps a fair comparison to other media is in order. It's expensive to produce any television, film, video game, music, etc, and it takes innumerable hours. Each one of these media sources has a small but tenacious independent sector, where the creators and collaborators assume the cost and labor to produce the material without the backing of deep pockets. However, indie films, indie music, and indie video games are often characterized by one huge difference: production values.

They might have comparable quality story, dialog, characters, and so on, but by virtue of not having the absurd gajillions it takes to produce Avatar or Modern Warfare 2 (or I suppose I should move on to CoD: BLOPS), we end up with people making Eternal Sunshine for the Spotless Mind, the Legend of Neil, and Cave Story. Or even smaller, shakier-cam varieties of film, including bizarre musicals.

Small aside: Cave Story is a freeware game completely made by one fellow. It's really damn good, and I highly recommend it to any video game enthusiasts.

Anyway, this same principle can apply to books, albeit at a much lesser extent. The many thousands it still takes to produce an indie film are nothing to laugh at. Hell, the man who created Braid supposedly sunk 300k into the project. Though I'd suspect he's made it back and then some, that's a lot more than a measly $2000 or so to get professional editing and artwork.

Even so, most indie writers probably aren't going to pay two hundred, much less something higher. Even with the high pile of spending for those indie games/films, they don't measure up in terms of graphics/effects/spectacle to the big budget ones. They simply can't without a much higher output of finance.

I will freely admit that writing is not the same thing. Realistically, an independent writer could put something out that matches the polish and quality of something like a Dan Brown novel.

Okay, bad example, but still... Production values really can make a huge difference no matter what medium we're talking about.

Once again: really not trying to cop out of anything. Far from Haven (which I understand has a fair share of mistakes in it), this is a big criticism quite often viewed within the indie writing scene. Irritating and immersion-killing? Yeah. Could the collective group of hard-working indies do better? Almost certainly.

Is it world-ending horrible?

A half-crazed, completely-awesome Scottsman

2010-12-05T12:41:00.000-08:00

The intriguing eccentricity of one Simon Varwell came into my notice today, as the fellow placed a very kind write-up of Haven on his blog. Though the very positive remarks turned my dreary, desk-chained, working Sunday into soft, giggling delight, the best part of his blog was not my ego boost but everything else.

Simon Varwell had a mission. With the spirit of adventure blazing in his heart and a conviction born out of Lord-knows-what, he went across the world in search of mullet-related landmarks (regions, street names, writing about some of his experiences in a book called "Up the Creek without a Mullet: A Hair-brained Journey Across the Globe." It seems he's about halfway through his hunt with 14 places left to visit.

Though I haven't yet read it (intending to pick up a copy and do so very soon), its unique concept and sense of superfluous fun and imagination create quite a notion of charm. Aside from his interesting personal conquests, his blog is thoughtful, entertaining, and delightful to read.

Perhaps it's the simple and unique idea, perhaps its the thoughts of traveling (though I was born in Canada, I barely leave my Minnesota apartment much less the state/country), or maybe it's something else, but what Simon Varwell has done strikes me as being nothing but pure awesome.

Besides, everyone knows that simply by virtue of accent, Scots are incredibly sexy.

Let's Talk Typos

2010-12-03T09:28:00.000-08:00

I've been trying to come up with a way to address this topic for a while now, in particular trying to address it in a fashion that doesn't make me sound whiny.

The most consistent criticisms I receive for Haven are thus: the ending is abrupt, and there are too many typos. Either or both causes a range of scoring mark-downs from nothing to a lot. Though maybe I'll talk about the ending if people really want me to, but some people actually like it as is, and most are comforted that the story is not over yet. I want to discuss the typo issue, and keep in mind that I'm really not at all trying to weasel out of anything, but I hope to try and put the issue in greater context.

First off, there have been multiple versions now released. There have been updates and fixes, and, to be honest, I can't be entirely sure what version each person has. I can't really say anything to defend myself against the newest release, but at least the older ones I can say, "Erm, it's better now?" This doesn't necessarily fly in any case, as the newest version probably has typos too.

Second, I don't actually own an ereader, so it's hard for me to determine exactly how effective the conversion process is. I did have it formatted properly to be fed into the converter, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything. Again, not trying to cop out; I've heard it suggested before that some converters, including the Amazon DTP, doesn't always do a bang-up job.

Third, and again I'm not trying to justify or complain too much (I really just want people to have a greater understanding), the editorial process is very, very, very expensive. As far as Haven was considered, it was available for free for a long time. In no way, shape, or possible form could I ever justify to myself or my family spending upwards (and higher) of a thousand dollars on something that I'd never see a return on. Even now, as I consider publishing more novels as independent, I still cringe at the thought of spending that much money on something that hasn't really gone beyond hobby as of yet.

Okay, so yes, there are cheaper alternatives. There are lots of independent copy editors, but there are also a lot of scammers. Some people are available for cheap, but who really knows whether or not they're actually good. It's a self-defeating principle: I probably wouldn't trust a discount editor to do anything that didn't think I could do better, and I'm largely unwilling to pay the exorbitant costs of an established professional.

Still, one would argue that it's completely necessary, required even, if someone like myself wants to eek out the tiniest mote of success. I don't really know yet, but I'm considering various options.

I guarantee with 100% certainty, though, that if I personally release A Fickle Fate without any other eyes to do the editing, it will be very clean and polished from my end. As both writer and editor, I'm improving the more I do it, and I'd like to learn from past criticisms by fixing the problems that caused them.

Simply put, I'd like to avoid criticisms like this:

"Are you a better copy editor than a fifth-grader? Neither is whoever edited this book!"

Ouch.

A corny, heartfelt thanks

2010-11-29T08:18:00.000-08:00

Though I don't know the exact overall numbers (reporting isn't always stellar between sources), I'm fairly positive that Haven has received over 20,000 downloads from the various places its been available. This could be even higher, as the ones that have the most ratings on site (Kobo and iBookstore) are the ones I'm not certain of.

In any case, I'd like to say thank you to all those who have given it a shot. Whether or not you've liked it, loved it, or have been completely indifferent, it's readers willing to try a new something, even if its free, that make the indie-publishing model remotely possible.

I'm slowly coming around to more concrete notions of being indie for as long as it takes, and this is 100% due to a very solid amount of reader support.

So thank you =)

Why is Haven not Free?

2010-11-23T08:48:00.001-08:00

I'm somewhat concerned, as Haven has vanished from the existence of Amazon, that there might be some issue with it being listed as free in other places. While this doesn't seem to have affected any other of my fellow indies that I'm aware of, it causes me no small amount of worry.

Amazon is very, very important as an eBook retailer. As I'm considering the possibility of going full indie for a while, there is no way that the lifestyle is even mildly sustainable without using Amazon and the DTP. The traffic, the exposure, is much, much bigger than any other source.

So, for the time being, Haven will be placed at the ludicrous .99 price point. If this causes particular rage to particular individuals, I'm very sorry about that. Perhaps sometime, I can sneak in a coupon or two to make it a little easier to digest.

The world we live in...

2010-11-21T18:23:00.001-08:00

There are many times when I have a very strong hatred for it and some of the trash that inhabits it.

I did a bit of reading this evening. As I'm what you could very easily call a video game enthusiast, I tend to check out articles and the general news and goings-on of the industry. I happened upon a particular story:

It was debated today whether or not using the emblem creator to create a swastika for play in Call of Duty: Black Ops was kosher for Xbox Live. Now, I admit I haven't played the latest CoD (and don't much intend to, truth be told), but I'm assuming people have some means with which they can doodle and create personal emblems outside of what's normally offered, including potentially lewd and/or offensive material.

The people who make the swastikas and wear them (getting banned as a result), I understand them. They're, for the most part, either ignorant hate-mongers or idiot children looking for a cheap laugh. What I don't get, and what irritates me more, is they who leap to the defense, hopping upon a soapbox for freedom of expression or something else entirely.

I mean, honestly that this is even a debate baffles me completely. Arguments have been flying around starting with, "It's also a Tibetan symbol for good luck," to, "It was over 70 years ago, who cares anymore?" and finishing with, "Genocide happens everywhere, get used to it." Forgetting for a moment that any particular freedom of expression vanishes in the face of a Terms of Use agreement, there are just some things not worthy of defending.

Yes, it's a terrible thing that the original intent for the symbol was twisted and corrupted by atrocities by a completely different set of people, but having even the slightest measure of class dictates the tiniest concession towards not displaying something that will likely always be one of the most prominent representations of the horrific, depraved nature of humanity.

In polite society, this should not be a question at all, but, then again...

Okay, end rant.

Here's a giggle...

2010-11-17T09:14:00.001-08:00

Something I have to laugh about a little bit; I admittedly have a Google Alerts thingamajig setup to inform me of any whosits with Haven. It doesn't serve any particularly utilitarian purpose, but whatever, I feel no shame (well, maybe a little).

Anyway, I have discovered that Haven has appeared on a few torrent sites now and is being, erm... pirated? I suppose in the disclaimer, I encourage people to share it and stuff, but it would seem that downloading it for free, as it is quite free in a number of places, would be ever so much easier than screwing around with torrent downloads.

Having said that, I know a lot of ebook publishers and enthusiasts feel very strongly about the notion of piracy. I admit to no strong personal feelings, but my life has never depended upon the royalties gained from the work. Some people do earn a quite meager living, and, whether or not pirated copies represent lost sales, it cuts them deeply. They aren't this soulless mass of corporate greed, they're the folks who eat Ramen every other night and work by candlelight to save on bills. Okay, maybe a bit of exaggeration, but few authors and extremely few indies make all that much money.

It also pisses off readers, as DRM tends to muck up the works more for legit users than it does for the pirates.

Since I'm not going to always offer everything I write for free, we'll have to see how I react to people taking even the impression of sales away. Again, many arguments are made that piracy doesn't represent any loss, but I can imagine it still being hard to deal with.

Gratuitous, Tuitous Nudity

2010-11-15T06:48:00.000-08:00

No, really, this isn't a petty effort to drive up traffic due to some steamy-type headline. It's a frank discussion I've been having with myself for a while now. A question that I've been mulling over, primarily since watching the television show Dexter. Since it's Showtime, they tended to display a lot of flesh, and I never could come up with a reason why, save for because they could.

Anyway, the question:

Is it possible to have truly tasteful, perhaps even artful, nudity in a visual and narrative based genre? I'm thinking not.

Okay, so I'm going to largely ignore artwork in these cases because much of my argument is based upon viewer reaction. A large body of art focuses upon the beauty of the human form, and in many cases, it tries very hard to go beyond prurient interests. Necessity is key here, and strictly visual media has a much stronger argument.

TV and film, video games as well, however... even theater. It's very much different.

The collaborative nature of these media require a strong debate amongst players. Often times the directer has the final say, but varied voices can be heard and heeded. Even if said director rules everything with an iron fist, there are a number of creative choices made towards a varied degree of purposes, hopefully many of them enhancing story or conveying emotion.

Now, scenes might require sex, they might require a child birth, they may need a guy running around in the buff because his clothing was stolen. It might require (like Heavy Rain), a female character forced to strip at gunpoint. We will say for sake of argument that whatever happens in the scene is necessary to the story without equivocation.

However, creative camera work and editing can hide anything, and the implication of what's occurring can be made fully clear without displaying flesh. But here comes the choice: is showing the nude, displaying it for all to see... does that really add anything at all? Can it? Is there any real necessity?

My instinct says no. It pains me to say it, but this choice, by the director or whomever, is made with the full and concrete knowledge that someone, somewhere, no matter how dramatic, tense, terrifying, heartwrenching, or anything else the scene might be... someone is going to find it titillating. And it's more like sometwo, or sometwo hundred. If the scene can be displayed without the use of naughty bits, why would the director make that choice? Certainly some of them are using the nudity to attract a certain audience (see: stupid grope of Hell denizen in Dante's Inferno game).

I'm not speaking as a terrified parent or shocked and offended bloke surprised by, "What they can say/show on TV these days," and I'm not going to say that having that bit of flesh causes any particular distress. I full well understand that our society has such a strong stigma against the slightest manner of sexual content, but that's not what this is about.

I'm also not saying I couldn't be convinced otherwise. My argument centers around the idea of displaying nudity being unnecessary to enhance the narrative: a story doesn't require, and is potentially weakened, by a fellow or two lost in the leering allure, but that's not all there ever is. There are other viewpoints to consider, like shock value, challenging preconceptions, that sort of thing. I myself prefer a solid story to making a person think, so those particular things aren't exactly my cup of tea.

Anyone have any ideas?

Le Query o' Doom

2010-11-09T09:07:00.000-08:00

Okay, so since the publishing world moves at a paraplegic snail's pace, I'll probably stick to random musings here for the most part. Safe to say, there's been no movement on the front for A Fickle Fate, though I've made a transition to start submitting to ePublishing houses. The novel's not-quite genre specific nature seems to make it more of a project to be passed on for agents.

Though I have no concrete idea. Less than half of the agents I've queried have responded (many in over 8 weeks). As well, the usual level of no feedback has been granted on any partials sent out. Not trying to sound whiny at all, I understand the way the process functions and why. In any case, only slight nibbles have been granted for A Fickle Fate.

Hey, I suppose I haven't really dropped any notions to what that particular story is about. Here's a blurb:

"It wasn’t getting fired from his lousy job. It wasn’t his former boss taking a dive out of a 30th story window, and it still wasn’t being hauled in by the police for questioning on the matter. It wasn’t even that the person directly responsible for all of it called himself Mixolydian Kittridge Valencia Stradivarius Wilbur von Kaiser the Third, or Mick, for short. No, the worst part of David Martin’s previously boring life was when his new, inhuman friend said to him, “I need you to kill someone. I promise you’ll totally save the world.”

Shocked by the request, David is forced to believe this insanity because, somehow, the crazed being of unknown origin possesses an eerie omniscience. Through the unbelievable meddling of his bizarre companion, David gets dragged into a torrent of events that pit him against the very real entity of predestination: Fate. Being shot at, dodging city buses, and living in severe danger of long term incarceration as an accomplice to one or more mysterious deaths, David has to survive the whirlwind that has become his life long enough to figure out what the heck is going on in a story that begins with the Spanish Inquisition and ends when time stops.

Well... almost, anyway."

A bit more light-hearted and different in style than Haven, but hopefully it will tickle folks in pleasant ways. At 80k words, it's a lightning-fast read with a fair measure of humor. Maybe the ebook market will be a little better for it anyway.

Bears. Beets. Battlestar Gallactica. (part 2)

2010-11-02T08:25:00.000-07:00

Okay, so perhaps it's the true soul of drama, but when all characters become unlikable and excessively involved in a myriad of unlikable actions, enjoyability really suffers.

Themes repeated themselves all too often: Cylons certainly can't be trusted in any fashion, they're our mortal enemy, blah blah. Okay, so yes they were responsible for the complete obliteration of galactic human society, but these themes have been tread over before. Though they never truly run out of applicability, the subject is broached too many times by the same characters, who should, at some point, develop a grudging respect as the number of Cylon allies does increase substantially throughout the series. Each time, however, it seems like this ridiculous ordeal, and not just because of the whole "enemy" thing.

Beloved characters turning stupid and certain overused themes might still be only a personal preference. It doesn't necessarily weaken the story, but it makes it a chore to watch as the viewer sits there, shouting, "Dear God, why are you all being so idiotic?!"

However, the true root of the problem, indeed the true root of any problem...

Money.

Though I've mentioned it before, sci-fi is grossly expensive to produce in a visual medium. This, unfortunately, means, that it needs quite a bit of a following in order to maintain enough of a profit to be worthwhile. Now, the reimagined BSG had such a very strong following, no doubt. However, BSG owed its success and popularity to bad writing. Ironic, no? Okay, okay, it wasn't bad, but it lacked foresight.

They create what they feel is the most dramatic and tension-heavy story that they can in the moment. It's balls-out awesome with adrenaline pumping, fist-clenching, high-pitched screaming action. However, it provides some very heavy constraints for future development. Constraints that are excessively difficult to write out of.

Without spoiling anything, the conclusion of BSG is a massive disappointment. The series spent an inordinate amount of time developing a particular subplot (sadly not just one) that completely and utterly fizzles due to a very feeble attempt at a resolution. It looks more like the writer/creator is saying, "Hey look, see that thing we've talking about all this time? Here it is! It's happening right now, and aren't we clever for including in our finale?"

The only problem is that the initial subplot comes with a great deal of tension and mystery. Its resolution is completely and utterly devoid of either of those things. There's no threat, no sense of danger, nothing at all: it's just there.

Finally, the series ends on the most massive and true-to-life Deus Ex Machina that has ever existed sans pulleys or lifts. It hearkens back to those old plays when it is actually God that fixes/takes care of everything. And this isn't in a clever way; it's a, "We're out of time with the series and need to wrap up all of these loose ends that we developed to create mystery and tension early on." The series concludes with a huge pile of, "Huh?" and the only explanation is, "God did it."

Such promise for a series; it managed to cure that thick layer of cheese, exuded by poor-acting and silly special effects, that plagues the medium. However, its grasp of planning and execution of a story crumbled away when it became apparent that the creators had no idea of how to resolve the myriad of dangling threads.

I haven't given Caprica a shot, and I haven't watched The Plan either. Somehow, I've lost a bit of faith that the creators can sustain a long-term series. Perhaps someday.

Bears. Beets. Battlestar Gallactica. (part 1)

2010-10-26T09:28:00.000-07:00

I admit it's been over a year now since I finished watching the entire series, including films and webisodes, and I further admit that a sour taste left by, well, the last season has somewhat marred my opinion of the series as a whole. The reimagined BSG has such profound excellence, but it killed itself under a weight of expectations and unfulfilled depth.

I heard somewhere that the creators thought that '33,' the very first episode aired, was the best one they made. While I don't actually disagree with them, it's a little sad.

That episode is almost the perfect embodiment of the entire theme of the entire series. All of the other metaphysical malarky aside, this has, essentially the high concept to a T. A ragtag band of survivors are running, hounded, by the very overlords that annihilated their society. Exhausted, run into the ground, hopeless. They use their (never really explained, but that's okay) FTL drives to flee their enemies, who invariably follow, arrive, and restart the battle every 33 minutes. In this episode, the crew, just barely having come to grips with the collapse of a galactic society, spends over 130 hours in this relentless flight.

The episode captures it perfectly. The bone-deep weariness that is etched upon the faces of every person that barely has time to catch a tiny, unfulfilling nap, a quick bite to eat, is almost contagious. The humanity and raw drama of the series, which is what holds it together and makes it shine against other Sci-Fi examples (B5, Farscape), is no clearer anywhere else in the show than in this episode.

And the series continues this proud tradition for quite a good amount of time. However, somewhere along the line, they lost something. Characters began to fall apart, everyone (except Helo) became embroiled in stupid, unlikable actions in order to create what felt like forced drama.

I'll get into more specifics about where it went wrong in the next post. Back to work!

A Small Favor

2010-10-12T11:19:00.000-07:00

Self-published is a bit of a dirty word to commercial publishers, editors, and the other devious dream-smashers that run the industry. As such, those who do might need to pretend that their lovingly crafted debut (or whatever it might be) novel, the one they decided to take a chance on and spew for free upon the internet, simply doesn't exist.

There are some other cases, of courses, where it's not a bad thing at all, and there are the extremely, extremely, extremely rare cases where an established self-pubber with a few or more solid credits to their name is actually sought out. I do *not* profess or aspire to be one of them.

I'm starting to utilize the recent Amazonian success/lucky break in query letters (for good or ill), as I hope that saying, "9600 downloads on Amazon alone," sounds good enough for someone to read further. I don't directly state that it was self-published, but... whatever. The point and purpose of making Haven free/cheap was to establish a recognized name and maybe a little fanbase as well.

So I'd like to ask a small favor. Whether you've stopped by as a result of one of the freebie downloaders, subsequent payees, or even Smashwordsians, I'd be delighted if you'd be willing at all to post an Amazon review.

I'm certainly not begging for folks to swing over there and spew five-stars until Amazon and the moons of Jupiter explode. In being completely honest, I don't know that Haven merits it. If you feel it rates one-star, then by all means give it that. What I'm seeking is a bit more review exposure on the site along with, da-duhduh-daaah, constructive criticism.

If not, then I hold no grudge whatsoever. Cheers!

Sequel to Haven by Justin Kemppainen

2010-10-11T08:23:00.000-07:00

That should be a search-function friendly title.

**UPDATE 2/12/2011**

Since this is the most commonly viewed page, I'm putting a reminder here: make sure you have the very latest and most updated copy of Haven; it contains an epilogue chapter and an overall cleanup of the text, so it's definitely worth having.

Don't pay for it, though, if you've already purchased/read the book! You can determine if you have the right copy by the Chapter number/title being center justified and there being a brief author's note at the very end. Thus far, it's the only copy of the novel to have such a thing. If you don't see either of those things, swing by Smashwords or Amazon to grab your updated copy.

***Back to your Haven-related posting***

I'm creating a post here to stick to the front page of the blog. I've gotten a number of comments suggesting that folks would really like to see how it all turns out in the Haven universe, and I definitely don't want to disappoint.

I hate cliffhangers, which makes me a terrible person for writing one. Actually, more hypocritical, but still terrible regardless. Whatever varied degree of awful I am, I will promise that there will be a sequel to Haven, but, as of now, I haven't started it yet.

It will either be called Haven's Demise, or possibly the Fall of Haven (though using that naming scheme seems eerily familiar to a certain Dan Simmons series). This should give you a relative hint to what might be coming.

With my current progress, (Legend of Ivan TBR February 25th!), I should be able to get the novel worked on within the next few months. I'm putting forth a tentative release of early June 2011 (4 months away!), but we shall have to see what happens. Without massive life-changing circumstances, I don't believe it will deviate more than a few weeks to a month in either direction.

Strange Luck

2010-10-08T11:08:00.000-07:00

Amazon's little gesture is continuing to perplex as well as create a bizarre level of good fortune for the folks who were involved.

Specifically, aside from the near 9000 free downloads it received, almost 500 more people have actually purchased it in the last 3 days. I'd dance a jig if the neighbors below me wouldn't get so upset.

A couple more nice reviews were posted on Amazon. I still can't seem to shake the "typos blaaargh!" criticisms, but, unless I see a helluva lot more of them, I doubt I'm going to do yet another run-through.

Loose Lips Sink Glass Houses

2010-10-06T06:32:00.000-07:00

And other mixed metaphors.

Most of my fellow indy publishers are still scratching their heads about Amazon's as yet unexplained move. The books were made unavailable (which was a little scary, actually) for a while yesterday afternoon, but they were eventually placed back up at their normal price.

I doubt at this point that it was an error on 'Zon's part, nor was it a means of punishing those who didn't allow the Kindle store to have the lowest price, as obviously they wouldn't return the status to quo with no other action taking place.

There are some theories about reinforcing the 35% royalty rate, but I honestly think the 70% pays off better for Amazon.

All I know at the moment is that Haven has gotten shoved into the "Paid Books" and sits at #8 of the top sellers.

Though I somewhat despise internet acronyms, I feel a "lolerskates" or a "roflcopter" is in order.

Amazon Freebies?

2010-10-04T20:22:00.000-07:00

It's only been a couple of days so far, but it seems Amazon has decided to pick out a few of the Smashwords free novels and follow suit on their own site. Now, I reread the user agreement and didn't find anything that allowed Amazon to change the price (much less to free) at will.

Regardless of how that pans out, Haven has been made free on Amazon for whatever reason. Royalties or not, the exposure is not something to be scoffed at, especially because it's number 22 on the free books list.

It's just beneath Pride and Prejudice O_o

Sci-Fi on TV

2010-09-25T14:55:00.000-07:00

It's so bizarre yet completely understandable.

Science fiction as a genre, in theory, could realize its true potential within the confines of a fully visual medium. The magnificence of the stars, universe, wrapped within the imagination of a brilliant creative mind could prove to be nothing short of amazing in terms of its contribution to art and drama.

So why does Sci-fi in movie and television suck so much?

Okay, okay, a little too harsh. There's a lot of putrescent bile in every single genre, so spreading the love into our favorite otherworldly dramas doesn't seem at all unusual. Poor storytelling, in a weird, convoluted way, provides a channel, a baseline for the really good stuff. It's only through seeing the infested colon that we can recognize the true heart and soul.

Or something.

I could try to come up with a laundry list of reasons why sci-fi placed in a digital medium has the odds so far against it, but it really boils down to just one thing.

Budget.

They're damned expensive to produce. New sets, make-up, CG; you name it, and a lot of cash disappears down that funnel of joy. And then?

Well, some areas don't quite get the funding they deserve. Casting... casting is *huge*, and writing... Since the focus is on the spacey-goodness and visuals, who needs to put together a story, right?

Of course, some of the better ones don't take the writing for granted, but every now and then there's a line delivered the purest, most divine monotone. Not to mention the thick layer of cheese that seemed to exude from the pores of each show and film. Or worse, a spastic pile of intensity and drama that ultimately collapses under its own weight because of unfulfillable expectations. The various Treks, Babylon 5, Farscape, Battlestar Gallactica, SG-1... every single one has moments of absolute, unbridled brilliance tempered by the various constraints. Tiny flaws that mar an otherwise beautiful obelisk.

I still love them, don't get me wrong. However, I pine for the day when sci-fi as a visual medium hits a new level. I don't doubt it'll happen, but until then...

I just keep watching the others over and over.

An Electronic Circus

2010-09-22T09:08:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I grew up on Mac computers. Microsoft has been the product of those fond childhood memories. Not, of course, nostalgia for something that I was enamored with, not at all. It was an object of ridicule for me, my brothers, and my family. The corporation of various evil, creating products that were inferior to the underdog Apple.

Naturally, things have changed since then. Still, iPods, Xboxes, and console wars later, Microsoft doesn't seem to be any less ridiculous.

It's still fun to mock Microsoft for their silliness, but I don't any longer see Apple as being much of an underdog or really being all that benevolent, but, dammit, they still seem to make quality products.

I'm currently laughing at Microsoft for their assertions that Blu-ray will make little impact, citing digital content as the future. Granted, I don't disagree with this assertion (and neither does Sony), but they seem to be considering the future as being not too far out. In addition, their current structure for content (XBL) appears rigid and constricting; too many rules to prevent ease of developer action upon content. Further from that, the low-end 360s can't support very many gigs of data, so how do you cultivate a download-heavy environment in those conditions?

As always, Microsoft's marketing strategy seems to be poking holes in other companies rather than fixing their own problems. In addition, it seems to me that every product or system they put out is riddled with bugs, errors, problems. Okay, I do like Windows 7 (Vista 2.0), I'll admit that.

They seem to be this big corporate giant, stumbling blindly around without a clue as to how to make something good but convinced of their own awesomeness by the very fact that they've got a bajillion dollars. The Xbox 360 really is not a product of their brilliance. It's success is not owed to their posturing and failure to fix manufacturing defects: the developers deserve *all* of the credit for making amazing products.

Okay, so, buying up game companies that can put out something that will sell like hotcakes *cough* Bungie *cough* can be considered a sound strategy, but I'd almost attribute that to blind luck as anything else, or blind money-hurling.

Now, I'm not saying that Sony or Mac has things much better. It took a while for Sony to remember that the Playstation was first and foremost for games, but now they're doing better so I won't beat that particular horse any further. Mac still puts out some very high quality products, but they seem a little too attached to their high profit margins.

Nintendo has their shit figured out. They hit a particular niche, and I don't begrudge that. I have no real interest in flailing my arms wildly in order to play any games, and the small handful of interesting-looking titles don't provide enough incentive for me to own one. As much as I loathe their own brand of equine abuse in putting out the same titles as existed twenty years ago, it seems to work out well enough for them.

What's the point? Meh. There's no news on the publishing front. Haven was re-edited, Fate is waiting for more rejections, and the newest project, "The Legend of Ivan," is being worked on. Gradually.

Oh, I suppose I did get another cat.

What to do, what to do...

2010-08-27T06:39:00.000-07:00

You know those high school (and college) preference surveys where the student fills out a bunch of transparent lifestyle enjoyment activities and then uses them to decide ultimately what career he or she will embark upon for the next X0 years?

Yeah, I was really bad at those. Not necessarily because the activities I selected are not particularly enjoyable to me, but because the job suggestions the formula routinely spit out seemed somewhat abysmal prospects. Author was usually on the list, though it was many a year before I really considered trying that. Journalism, editorial, blah, blah.

The reason I bring up this introspection is, as I await the glacial tides of the publishing world to consider whether or not 'A Fickle Fate' is worthy of gracing shelves/ereaders, I need to find something long term to do.

So, swinging for left field, I'm going to start learning how to program. I've been reading a couple of small tutorials on Scheme, C++, and Python. Obviously I'm not going to try and learn several languages all at once, but I'm trying to grasp a feel for which one my brain won't screech at.

I'm leaning towards Python. HSSSSHhssSSs.

Werk werk werk...

2010-08-19T15:56:00.000-07:00

Blech, worked the last 19 days in a row (well, tomorrow it'll be 19). Stephen King would be proud. Keep in mind that this is work-work not writing-work, though.

On a lighter note, I expect that the edit of Haven will be finished very soon. It's a very interesting thing; considering the fact that my writing activity has been primarily limited to editing and not writing much at all, Haven does not compare quite so well to A Fickle Fate.

Not to disrespect my earlier work, but there are definite instances of chewy language and not the most pristine dialogue. A Fickle Fate, though having been scrubbed up fewer times, seems more polished. It's almost as though practice writing makes some kind of a difference.

*gasp*

I'd be more than thrilled to say that Haven is the worst book I'll ever write, considering that I've received quite a few very kind comments. Thanks to all who read it, and, yes, I will eventually write the Haven sequel.

Dreary Query...

2010-08-03T15:17:00.000-07:00

Yeah, it's that time again, folks. As much as I like spewing my work for free, and as insignificant the chances are at traditional publication, I'm still shooting for some brand of career.

I've been firing off a few queries, starting last week. The novel, "A Fickle Fate," has already marred my perfect rejection record. This, of course, being Haven, which received not even the slightest of interested sniffles from agents and publishers.

I've gotten 2 form rejections and 1 partial request, which ended in a rejection. 5 queries are still out, and the response time thus far has been surprisingly quick.

In the mean time...

Haven is finally getting a thorough scrubbing. I'm finding a few things here and there, tightening up some superfluous dialogue when necessary. It'll probably, as always, be a couple of weeks before it's ready to be re-uploaded, but it should be sparkling clean then.

If anyone has particular comments about it, feel free to mention them below. I apparently don't comprehend the intricacies of blogging much, but I do check here every so often.

Oh silly Haven...

2010-05-19T13:26:00.000-07:00

Bah, more comments about errors in Haven. Although I haven't completely ruled out the possibility of MeatGrinder errors, I think that the ol' girl could use a once over, at least. It should be more doable once I finish the first edit (of many) on the current project.

Also, instead of falling asleep last night, I managed to dredge up a few decent ideas for stories within the Haven universe. Something to fill in the cracks a little bit.

Why the Star Wars prequels suck

2010-05-05T09:49:00.000-07:00

I've been considering this lately, not necessarily because yesterday, the 4th, was Star Wars day. Actually, it's more because a friend of mine recently introduced me to Red Letter Media's Episode I/II comedic video review. The odd style and nitpicky details aside, the reviewer makes numerous very good points about why large elements of the plot make no sense and why the characters are flat and uninteresting.

The characters themselves, outside of the film, have a lot of depth and richness to them, complexity driving along their motivations along with details regarding why events played out the way they did. Unfortunately, I suspect that some of this was ret-conned in, as none of this comes across in the films.

I learned more from the Star Wars wiki page about why the Trade Federation put up a blockade around Naboo and why anyone gave a shit about it than the film highlighted, and I was able to do so without having my ears assaulted by cringe-worthy dialog spewed forth by lousy child actors.

Basically, the reason why nothing seems to make sense, and the film is only worth a damn because the stunning visuals distract from its awfulness, is two reasons: script and direction. Yep, you can blame George Lucas for screwing up Star Wars. You see, even bad dialog can be fixed by adequate direction; the person in charge of the process can say, "Good God, that sounds horrible, and none of this makes any sense. Let's change this, this, and this, and cut this line out because it sounds like Linkin Park had angst baby with Dawson's Creek."

Unfortunately, very awkward dialog tries desperately to force along the emotion in the movie. Sadly, when younger, I was a gigantic sucker for it. I think, even then, little twitches in my brain told me that some things were truly awful, but I ignored it because it was *Star Wars*. The worst part about the dialog, aside from trying to force a kind of flowery diction (maybe the Jedi are all supposed to be Olde Britishe or something) into every line whether or not it's necessary, is that every situation is mercilessly clubbed over someone's head. Suspension of disbelief, which is very, very necessary in a Sci-fi setting, is begged from the audience during every moment.

Let's analyze one scene. I'm not going to warn about spoilers because quite frankly, who cares? Obi-wan and Anakin have been furiously fighting for five minutes of film, displaying their amazing talent with light saber dueling and affinity with the Force. The fight takes them through some incredibly ridiculous terrain, and it's a point in the film where actual emotion almost eeks through the awful writing, (once again, Anakin and Obi-wan are life-long friends because we are *told* not because we're shown).

Obi-wan leaps from the platform to the side hill. Somehow, we get to, "It's over Anakin! I have the high ground!"

Wait, what?

"You underestimate my power!"

Hang on, what's happening here?

"Don't try it!"

*bbsszzzt!* Oh, geez, limbs and stuff.

This scene is completely incomprehensible and is a perfect example of awful writing. There's no particular reason given why suddenly the fight is supposed to be over because Obi-wan is standing on slightly higher ground. I'm not at all disputing that leaping over an opponent is most likely a very foolish maneuver that leaves one horribly defenseless if they're not careful, but this sort of idea is *never* established.

Something so simple as a quick sparring scene between the two of them where Anakin tries a similar move ending in a failure. Obi-wan then tries to explain to him why it doesn't work. Anakin scoffs at his former master still trying to teach him things, and it both further establishes his arrogance and weakness in his fighting style, which Obi-wan later exploits. Consider Batman Begins and the line, "You need to (never did) learn to watch your surroundings." The situation is brought in early on and used later in the film to close out climactic fights, and it *works*.

Anakin's defeat only survives because the brutality of what happens (dismemberment!) shocks the viewer right back into the scene after the wait, what? of the awkward dialog before it, and this is something that happens over and over in the prequels. The stunning visuals are the only thing that keep the viewer even slightly engaged in what's going on. Immersion is very shallow because bad writing/directing keeps dragging people out of the experience.

It's just so depressing; there truly are some interesting ideas behind some of the information presented behind the films, such as why certain lightsaber duels ended the way they did, various character motivations (like Count Dookou), and other crap.

However, it's not in the movies. At all.

Dreary Query

2010-04-05T12:23:00.000-07:00

Quite con...treary?

Okay, so I'm not a poet. Don't I know it?

Anyway, work continues without pause after a quite busy weekend without much breath-catching time. I've been staring at my query letter so far and have been trying to tweak it. I'm fairly confident that what's there is eye-catching, but the phrasing isn't right just yet.

With a somewhat growing dissatisfaction with my current occupation, I'm intending to take this novel's publisher (and perhaps agent as well; I haven't decided yet) querying much more seriously, putting in the real time and effort that the process needs.

Next up: editing.

Finished...

2010-04-03T06:17:00.001-07:00

Ahhhh.....

It's a good feeling.

So... close...

2010-03-30T09:57:00.001-07:00

I'm not much of a believer in writer's block, to be honest. I personally believe that any author is capable of translating words to the page; there are just times when creativity is at a minimum, and all of said words are unfortunately awful.

Due to work, sloth, a snippet of a social life, and, as depressed as I am to admit this, World of Warcraft, I still have not finished my current project. Pages away. One chapter/epilogue/whatever, and it remains unfinished.

If there is such a syndrome as writer's block, I suppose it'd be safe to say that I'm afflicted with a form of it. Perhaps, a better term for myself would be writer's lament: a permeating fear that, once finished with the novel, the fun part is over. Next comes editing and rejections, or some such.

I'll admit, however, that I'm a little bit excited for the editing. I think the novel needs some major, earthshattering revisions before I'd be able to feel good about it.

Or maybe I have a case of writer's boredom: the plot has been festering, finished but not on paper, in my mind for so long that writing it doesn't provide the fresh thrill that a true work in progress does. Or maybe the genre isn't my cup of tea. Or maybe my time is more restricted with a part time job than it was with college.

I might finish it today; that is a distinct possibility. If I do, then I'm totally ordering pizza to celebrate.

Lazy sod

2010-03-04T13:04:00.001-08:00

Yeah, that's me. To be frank, I still haven't actually figured out what I'm doing. I've been trying to focus on finishing the current original project, but that in itself has been somewhat difficult. It's not far from the end, to be honest; I have just lost a bit of enthusiasm for it and am kind of laboring to finish it.

Kind of silly, actually. I've got pretty much everything that's going to happen in my head. A few solid hours of writing and it'd be polished off.

Oh well, it'll happen. At this stage, my energy for this project has waned enough to make me wonder if it's really worth pursuing some kind of traditional publishing route. Then again, this one's writing has been disjointed with all of the moving and job starting that has occurred in the last 6 or so months, so I don't quite recall every detail of what has happened.

I've also been poking at a query letter for it. Once I get through most of the first edit, I'll have a clearer picture, and maybe I'll be able to squash some of the things that are causing a bit of doubt.

A Proper Career Path: Part Two

2010-02-16T16:16:00.001-08:00

One of the things that has figured heavily into my recent considerations with this silly universe of publishing is my recent acquisition of the Penny Arcade paperback set. I've been a fan of these crazy bastards for years now, and I was thrilled to support them (not, at this point, as though they really need it).

For each strip, Tycho, also known as Jerry Holkins describes his present day reaction to the jokes and situations present, and this is very interesting to read. From their clueless, near-loss of their control of the comic strip to the lawsuits, these guys have worked hard for the reputation and success.

And it all came from offering free work.

Granted, the webcomic universe is completely different from that of creative writing. The ability to put together a comprehensive something that people can enjoy quickly and painlessly is easier to absorb than a 140,000 word novel. A reader loses barely a moment by reading a dull webcomic (or thousands of readers lose numerous moments by reading CAD), so they're more willing to take a chance on something new.

Still, the principle of, "Offer it for free until maybe somewhere, sometime, somehow, very far down the line, someone will be willing to pay for it," holds true for a myriad of sources. What is wholly necessary, however, is to always have a quality product.

In any case, my wife has been gracious enough to suggest that, at some point, she'd be okay with me stopping traditional work and focusing my efforts on the self-published avenue, provided I could be reasonably assured to make some kind of monetary contribution. Unless of course, she's making millions, then I can just be a trophy husband.

I already work part-time from home, do all the dishes, cook all the meals, and clean all the hous...es. As my brother-in-law said, I seem to make a good wife.

I've got a little more yet before this topic is run into the ground. Suffice to say, I think I'm coming to a fair understanding of where I intend to go with this. I know you're trembling with anticipation.

A Proper Career Path: Part One

2010-02-15T09:48:00.000-08:00

I've been struggling somewhat, lately, with figuring out where exactly I want to take this writing hobby (habit) of mine. It's somewhat difficult to say, considering the options in front of me are all painstaking, brutal, and tear-inducing.

First, I could continue writing books and try very hard to pound my skull against the impenetrable brick wall that is traditional print publishing. That means hours of research into proper agents/publishing houses, hours of digging away at a query letter, the usual rejection pile. Further reading into traditional print publishing makes me cringe at the very thought of doing so; the feeble percentages, the black mark on a career from not selling enough books. Granted, a proper measure of success would take enormous marketing pressure off.

Second, I could continue to make my books into eBooks. This is something I consider from time to time, mostly the fault of Randolph Lalonde, author of The First Light Chronicles and the Spinward Fringe series. He is a full-time writer, entirely self-published, and he pays his rent and electricity from his book sales. I'd hazard a guess and say he's no millionaire, but...

I'd like to continue this at some point, mostly as a means to vent my thoughts, but sadly I need to get back to work. Work as in actual work, not book writing, which is more fun than actual work.

Yeah, I probably would.

2010-02-11T14:03:00.001-08:00

I think I'd marry Rich Burlew, given the opportunity.

I consistently marvel at his ability to combine elements of parody, original humor, and genuinely intriguing story arcs in his fairly popular webcomic, Order of the Stick. This has been further supported by a recent hardcopy acquisition of a few of the books.

I honestly believe that his work serves as a model for how a work of fiction should be structured. Be it television, film, a novel series, whatever. In one of his works, he cites 'Babylon 5' as a primary influence. Obviously a D&D-based comic has no actual direct similarity with a sci-fi themed TV show of the 90's, but it revolves around concept.

J. Michael Straczynski created his series with a clear story arc in mind. Aside from random filler, general cheesiness, the occasional horrid acting of an extra, and network cancellation issues, he sticks with his plan. This cumulates in some pretty serious twist moments when the viewer realizes the seeds of season 4 started in season 1.

This doesn't seem to happen as often anymore. Literature like The Sword of Truth series just seems to spew novel to novel, reiterating the exact same 'forbidden love' and 'whining protagonist.' Don't get me wrong, I genuinely enjoyed Wizard's First Rule, but very hefty books that retread identical themes... It doesn't read like a story that the author is dying to tell. It reads like something being milked to death.

Television is much worse. I enjoyed a bit of Heroes, even Prison Break, but it was constantly geared towards providing jolt after jolt in order to drag the faithful audiences back after each episode. Eventually, the self-perpetuating formula repeats itself, and we become desensitized to the shocks and twists.

Anyway. Order of the Stick rules. Read it if you haven't.

Yeesh

2010-02-08T11:03:00.000-08:00

Haven't posted since my birthday. Oh well, no big deal.

Haven hit 1001 downloads recently, and to celebrate, I'm offering it... errr... free-er than it was before?

Okay, okay, so I can't really start paying people to read my book, as tempting as that sounds. Doing so would be quite crippling to both my self esteem and my bank account, so...

In any case, I'm still plugging away at another independent project. For those interested in a Haven sequel, which I'm pretty sure is just my wife at the moment, but maybe a few more once it gets around a little more... where was I?

Sequel right. Right now it's rattling around in my skull. My current project will probably be finished near the end of March, at my best guess. I don't know exactly if I'll get going on the Haven sequel right then. As shameful as it sounds, I'm still not really going for the whole indie publisher bit. I'd love to be a corporate stooge that gets all of the marketing and editing taken care of. A sequel to an indie book probably isn't going to get me there.

It'll happen eventually, but I'm still trying to see if I can scrape together a semblance of a career out of writing.

Not too shabby...

2010-01-19T17:53:00.000-08:00

The numbers for the last few days are pretty darn awesome; almost up to 600 downloads of the book. With some luck, positive ratings and reviews will roll in within the next few weeks. Still finding more places to advertise, and I'm feeling less ashamed of my shameless plugging.

Haven is now free, for real

2010-01-16T07:11:00.000-08:00

Lord only knows if it's going to work or not, but I've made my novel entirely free on Smashwords. The number of downloads has skyrocketed once again, but not, unfortunately, I won't be able to tell individual numbers; there's just too much possibility of repeat downloads. Heck, I could run over to my laptop and pad the numbers, if I was a moron.

I do hope that doing so makes Haven all the more accessible. I'd be lying if I said I didn't care about money, but, in this case, I really don't. My paranoia tells me that people had an adverse reaction to the, "pay what you feel like" option. Sort of like, "Oh, I see. He doesn't think his book is actually worth anything, but he wants us to pay anyway."

Well obviously not many people would have felt that way, but still...

A Cheery Good Holiday Season!

2009-12-26T07:04:00.000-08:00

Very nice, it appears that I've had 5x my sales in the last two days, which is awesome. Don't be too impressed, however, because, the novel is free, and my original number of sales was not terribly impressive.

Granted, it's only been going for about a week, so... Perhaps this spells good tidings?

Thanks for your support, anyone and everyone!

Try try try, never stop trying.

2009-12-22T14:19:00.000-08:00

It is a very curious thing. Dozens, hundreds of authors and publishers and agents beat the "never stop trying" drum to a grisly, pulpy death. It provides a very interesting contrast to the underlying thought that drives the legitimate publishing market: that not every book written deserves to be published.

Anyone who's written a book has had this fear. Anyone who's written a book finishes their work with a smile and the belief that, with hard work and enough queries sent out, they'll get a sniff or a bite to their work. They'll most likely get swatted once or twice (or three, or four, or infinity times), but they should try, try, try again, even if those who encourage them to do so merely doom them to further disappointment.

I'm not saying that anyone should ever give up on their passion period, nor am I saying that others shouldn't be encouraging when facing someone who is feeling trod upon. I don't know the solution, and I suspect that it is not simple in any fashion whatsoever.

Blech, apparently maudlin. I read a big thread over at absolutewrite.com about Smashwords, where the founder, Mark Coker, defended himself against a horde of angry trolls. I have to give him a pile of credit. He stuck it out like a pro, even though plenty of people were entirely unwilling to listen to him. Well, that's forums for ya.

Nerdzilla!

2009-12-19T11:24:00.000-08:00

Yes, aside from the fact that I read and write science fiction and fantasy-related material and play tons of video games, there is one final element that makes me even more of a anti-socialite dork.

I play Dungeons and Dragons. *gasp*

Actually, it's been quite a while since I've done any playing; a few friends and I are firing up a new super-special awesome campaign with real role-playing and real character development. I'm pretty excited, actually. Being a theater major (oh yeah, that makes me so much less of a nerd), I really get into the solid role-playing aspect much more than the hacky-slashy bits. Combat is fun and all, but sometimes it takes soooooo bloody long, especially when everyone has 17 1/2 attacks, and each time they have to pause to consider what they planned on doing.

But I digress. D&D is fun.

Ooh, so much interest...

2009-12-16T15:31:00.000-08:00

Well, so far I've "sold" five copies of my book. They've all gone for free, but that's not a problem at all.

Blech. People are terrible at writing and following directions. I'm not talking fiction here, I'm talking about describing a general scenario of something that happens while shopping. It's part of my job to edit said descriptions, and it's been a nightmarish sort of day.

I had to actually call someplace in Mississippi and pretend to be interested in a store special. I'm sure my obviously not-Mississippi accent wasn't a dead giveaway, but the guy gave a lot of good information on TVs. It was neat, but it's not something I particularly want to do all the time.

Anyway, huzzah for book being read!

Excerpt from Haven

2009-12-15T17:46:00.000-08:00

Chapter 3: Fruitless Mission

No slip-ups or problems on the way down, Kaylee stood in the corridor that Elijah had found so many years before. The security was indeed, as Rick had put it, disgusting. A red line painted on the floor spelled out, "Go no further." Beyond that was a metal grating stretching for twenty feet, ending in a massive steel door. It was impregnable without significant hardware and manpower. The entire hallway was monitored by embedded security cameras. A curious mechanical hum rang faintly in the background, and Kaylee knew this to mean that the high-voltage floor was ready to trigger at Elijah's remote command.

None of this concerned her because her jaw dropped to see two bodies, that of a dead man and woman, lying in twisted piles some distance away from each other. A stench of burnt flesh hung thick in the air. Kaylee gagged, swallowed hard, and turned away from the gruesome sight. She had seen bodies before, but she hadn't exactly enjoyed or grown accustomed to the experience.

After a brief moment, she glared at one of the embedded cameras. "God dammit Elijah! You didn't tell me there were dead bodies here!"

A small click was heard, and the intercom responded with a shrugging tone, dripping with nonchalance. "I sent Jeffrey to clean up several hours ago. He must have been taken. Or possibly delayed."

She swallowed hard. "And then you sent me out, after that?" She didn't – hadn't – known Jeffrey all that well. Whenever she saw him, however, he was always cheerful and friendly, even when she portrayed a prickly exterior. Even though things were often dismal, he always seemed to be smiling. Now he was gone.

"I did send you knowing that, yes," the intercom replied without a hint of remorse. "You seem to have made it with little difficulty."

She swore angrily. "So much for less patrols! And what about Jeffrey? Doesn't he matter?"

"People do as they are asked, knowing the risks, and knowing the rewards. You do the same, do you not?"

Kaylee's anger rippled at the cold logic; Elijah sometimes seemed to have an irritating irreverence for other human beings. At this particular moment, she was not feeling very magnanimous.

"Asshole," she muttered.

"Would you care to rephrase that?" the intercom inquired.

"I said please let me finish this so I can get out of here."

There was a click, and the mechanical hum faded from the background. One of the bodies lay near the vault door. The second, the woman, had fallen within a few steps upon the grate. Kaylee hesitated, waiting a moment longer before stepping forth. She looked at the lifeless eyes staring, mouths gaping, freezing their last moments of agony. She shuddered.

"Keep moving."

Tentatively, she put one foot forward onto the metal grating. Nothing. No ten thousand volts, no agonizing death. Maybe it would have been for the best, she thought. She skirted around the first corpse, striding directly towards the massive door. She paused, glancing at the dead woman who stared lifelessly back.

Looking at how they were arranged, Kaylee theorized that he had stepped on to the grating before the voltage was triggered and given a couple of warnings before he reached the end. Seeing his plight, the woman foolishly moved to help. "She was trying to save him…" Kaylee murmured.

"It had to be done, to protect what is ours," Elijah said.

A brief series of grinding metallic noises resounded as the door began its unlocking sequence. A round central sphere spun counter-clockwise as heavy steel bars at several points along the circumference slid free of opposite housings. The door groaned loudly as the hydraulic pins released their hold.

Kaylee started to feel better, her task nearly finished. She didn't like risking her neck for Elijah, but she grudgingly admitted he had helped many people, including herself. In spite of his cold nature, Elijah inspired a fierce loyalty in his people. Kaylee, not having been around as long as some of the others, didn't quite understand it. Elijah seemed more than a little reluctant to dispense trust to anyone; outsiders and newcomers definitely no exception. Maybe he's not that bad after-

"Bring me a can of peaches," he said, breaking her train of thought.

Kaylee stopped dead on the threshold, in moderate shock. "You've got to be kidding me. That's it?"

"Yes, hurry up and keep quiet."

This was too much. She spun back towards the camera, put her face inches from it and screamed, "You sent me into this festering shithole with corpses strewn about so you could have a can of goddamn peaches?! You son of a bitch. When I get back, I swear I'm going to-"

"Going to do what?" the intercom inquired back, a sliver of irritation seeping into the pool of calm. "Return to the streets, alone and helpless? No. You will do as I ask. Get going."

Trembling and stinging from the rebuke, Kaylee obeyed and pulled the door open. As she crossed inside, cool air washed over her. She turned, pulling the door shut. The hydraulics kicked in and tugged, sealing the door and trapping her.

She walked down the middle, past shelves holding canned vegetables, boxed dry pasta, sauces and soups, and plenty of sealed bottles of water and juice. She stole glances about, fingers twitching, desperately wanting to snatch something and stuff it into her pocket. Stealing was frowned upon, and the penalty for such behavior was harsh. There, peaches. They were sitting on a shelf next to pineapple, mandarin oranges, and pears. Kaylee began to salivate, anger momentarily forgotten, replaced with rampant desire.

With a squeal of feedback, the transmitted voice spoke, echoing loudly in the concrete room, "Are you finished?"

Cursing under her breath, Kaylee snatched the can of fruit from the shelf and trotted back to the entrance, which, remote released by Elijah again, swung open. She stepped over the threshold, turning to close the door.

Behind her came a noise of slapping bare footfalls, quickly approaching on the metal grating. She tried to spin around and face whoever it was, but she was seized from behind. A forearm clasped on her throat and something sharp jabbed into her back.

"Don't move," a raspy voice and breath like rotting meat assailed her as the arm tightened around her throat. She almost gagged, eyes watering, but she ceased struggling for just a moment. Lulled into a sense of security at her obedience, relief spread at the point of her back as her attacker took the knife away. Kaylee saw this knife hand reach past her, trying to hook around and pull open the bunker door, which hadn't yet closed enough to trigger the hydraulic sequence. As he fumbled with the heavy door, his grip around her neck loosened.

Seizing the moment, she deftly slid the knife from her pocket and triggered the blade. She jammed it into the side of his thigh, the cold metal sinking deep into the tissue. Her assailant screeched with pain and anger, releasing his hold. Instead of fleeing down the hallway, Kaylee sprang in the other direction, throwing her weight against the door. It slammed upon his wrist, and the undernourished and brittle bones shattered. The man screamed and sobbed, swinging wildly with his other hand to grab at her. She whirled, ducked under his outstretched arm, and sprinted down the corridor. She swung around the ladder, intending a hurried ascent.

Only he wasn't chasing her. Yelling curses, his hand was caught in the door. After it slammed, the door had engaged its hydraulics, trapping him. He tugged feebly at his injured wrist, bellowing in agony as the central sphere of the door spun around, setting steel bars back in place and tightening the seal on the door. The already broken bones in his hand ground into powder, blood spurting from the wound and splashing down onto the metal grating. The vault door nestled back firmly in its cradle, becoming silent. The man continued to scream obscenities and yank at his pulverized hand.

The new wound seemed like the least of his problems. Finally able to fully view the man, Kaylee was horrified to see the nearest to death one could get. His skin was ashen. His hair was thinning and filthy, matted against his scalp. The man's cheeks, like the rest of his body, were gaunt and hollow, his whole face looking like a bag of loosely hanging skin. Needle marks decorated both of his arms, along with festering open sores found everywhere on the exposed flesh.

He was wearing a tattered brown T-shirt, whether natural color or just stained that way Kaylee couldn't tell, and filthy jeans. He wailed, an agonizing sound that made her cringe. Turning towards her, he glared with bloodshot yellow eyes, filled with hate. His cracked lips barely concealed rotting teeth.

She froze, watching in horror as he turned back to his crushed hand and wrenched over and over, each time a sickening crack greeting her ears as he exacerbated the injury. His struggle to free himself came accompanied by a low, mechanical hum, and Kaylee felt a chill run down her spine as she understood the source.

He, too, paused for a second, listening to the din which grew less faint. He glanced down at the dead man next to him, as though noticing the body for the first time. Dark realization crossed his eyes as he connected the burnt corpse to the metal grating upon which he stood. Frantically, he turned again, head jerking back and forth in terror. Finding nothing to assist, he began pulling at his trapped hand once more. Kaylee could hear him wheezing, "Help me, help me, help me," over and over. The statement didn't seem to be directed at her, but she had no idea to whom or what he spoke.

Electricity slammed into the poor addict's body, causing him to spasm violently. Kaylee looked away, tears in her eyes and the fresh smell of burning flesh and hair wafting over, along with something bizarrely sweet. Sparks flared, creating an eerie, inconstant blue glow and casting shadows upon the walls. The man himself was silent, trying to cut loose an agonized shriek with muscles bound too tightly to allow any noise to escape. After what felt like a lifetime, the sounds of electrical discharge faded along with the deep hum, and there was silence for several moments.

"Hurry up," came the pitiless voice. Kaylee wiped her face with her sleeve and turned towards the elevator shaft.

"You're not forgetting anything?"

She paused. The peaches. She no longer held them. She looked back over. Three bodies now adorned the small corridor, one still-smoking caught within the hold of the powerful steel door. Her can of peaches, dropped when she was attacked, had exploded from the electricity upon the metal grating, coating the area with sticky, sweet, preservative syrup and bits of fruit. That's what the smell was, she thought, cooking peaches.

Without warning waves of revulsion coursed through her body. B raged in her stomach, threatening to-

She turned towards the elevator shaft and voided the contents of her stomach into the yawning darkness, faintly splattering heard some distance below. She gripped the ladder, taking several deep breaths, spitting a few times, trying to clear her mouth of the bitter acids.

"Are you all right?" an almost sympathetic tone resounded in the corridor.

"Yeah…" she muttered. She gazed with a forlorn expression upon the mangled can of peaches with the sizzled, burned fruit. It seemed like it should have been metaphorical or poetic somehow, but if it was, she couldn't figure it out. She walked over to the elevator shaft and carefully scrutinized the area as far as she could see. Nothing. No one else.

"Okay. I need to get a new can," she said.

"Are you certain the area is clear?" Elijah's digitally transmitted voice came once again, sounding doubtful.

"About as certain as I was a couple of minutes ago, but I'll go quick, and this time, I won't drop 'em no matter what." Kaylee took a deep breath.

The room filled again with the sounds of grinding, mechanical devices as the door once again laboriously unlocked and disengaged. The deceased and cooked captive fell next to it. Barely looking down, Kaylee stepped over the corpse and into the bunker, striding to the shelf and grabbing another can. On her way out, she snatched a bottle of water. "I've earned this," she said before the intercom could object.

"Very well."

Once back outside, the door sealed itself shut one final time, secured and near impenetrable. This time, thankfully, it held no starving madmen in its jaws. Kaylee walked briskly without a downward glance, through the hallway to the elevator shaft. She cracked open the bottle and rinsed her mouth out before taking several generous gulps.

Securing the new can of peaches under her chin, she swung out to the ladder above the yawning darkness and carefully began to ascend. Elijah hadn't said anything more, yet. She briefly wondered if she'd be punished for the trouble. She cast aside the thought, understanding that, as she reached the ground level of the living quarters, she would once again need to focus upon passing undetected.