AltFiction is upon us again – alright, it’s still a full month away yet, but definitely time for booking the tickets. Yours Truly will be there for both days. This time, unlike last year, I know what I’m letting myself in for, and I won’t be quite so overwhelmed with adrenalin and tongue-tied amazement.
Whether I have anything to take with me is a different question: I’m still roughly 15k away from a completed first draft of HTTN, and even that draft would be too many revisions away from a polished MSS. But yeah, I’ll have the computer with me anyway, so who knows?
There’s an elephant in the room. What elephant? Which room? This one.
When I’m on fire, I can write like a demon. A slow, somewhat cranky demon, sure, but a demon nonetheless. When I’m not so hot, all I want to do is watch Doctor Who, roll dice, and play Championship Manager. On their own, none of these are neccessarily bad things. But in my lower moments, these things act as a focus for distractive obsession.
In other words, rather than sort out what’s worrying me and making me feel low, I’ll go play as Worksop Town for several hours – usually until I fall asleep in front of the screen. Not good.
Here’s your elephant. Not much writing going on while he’s around.
Morning, all. A couple of years ago I managed to drag my attention away from Malessar’s Curse long enough to write a few short stories. Oddly, more were science fiction than fantasy – I’m not sure why, but it seems that my brand of fantasy just doesn’t suit the short form. My SF, on the the other hand (which usually has more F than S), does fit.
So, the point. Pantechnicon e-zine signed up my first effort, and kindly published it alongside Ian Whates and Ian Sales in its ninth (and last) issue. Whereupon, beset by hackers, Pantechnicon tumbled into the great black hole of lost sites.
But, not so! Very quietly, Pantechnicon’s back issues have appeared in a blog over here. So now you can read “This Place Sucks” all over again.