HERE'S LOOKING UP YA!

The drinks are cooling, dinner's on the simmer, and I'm about to close down my innahnet for the duration.

I've decided against resolutions for the coming year: truth is, it's been hard, at times, to keep my nose above water this year, and the idea of doing anything other than trying to get my personal and professional lives on track in 2015 does not appeal. So, rather than set up a wishlist I'll spend a year feeling bad about not achieving, here's a short list of things that'll be nice to have happen, and a list of things I was glad to have happen in 2014.

1. Lose some weight. No targets, no plans. I'll be in a new town, with new opportunities to be active. If I lose some weight as a result, I'll be happy.
2. Give precedence to my writing. There have been too many distractions this year. My career has wallowed, and I've lost impetus. I'd like to recover that, and get back to the only thing I'm good at.
3. Spend more time with my family. I'm moving 15 minutes closer to work. I want to make good use of that extra 30 minutes a day.
4. Get out to some more Lego events.
5. Be happy. I've spent too long this year under stress, and miserable because of it. I'd rather not do that again.
6. Sell more work: whether it's a new novel, more short stories, a film script, I'm not going to care. I've been happiest when I've been running my career for my own amusement. I'm going back to that.

As to the year just gone, here's a few of the good things:

1. I was invited to present a workshop at the Perth Writer's Festival, a career highlight and proof that I could think about entering the wider literary world with a straight face.
2. My family blossomed in ways that brought me to tears on occasion. 
3. I sold a few short stories, and every one was to a new market.
4. We sold our expensive, hard-to-maintain white elephant of a house and bought a new, smaller one nearer to my work, which should ease our financial pressure in 2015.
5. I found a group of largely like-minded Lego fans and made it to a couple of group meetings, giving my hobby a social dimension it has previously lacked.
6. I had a good year for passing on my experience, with a number of workshops and public appearances under my belt.

Happy new year, y'all. See you next year.

A CHRISTMAS THING FOR YOU, FROM ME

It's getting towards the end of the day. The Blu-Ray pile has Snowpiercer and two Quatermass movies, freshly purchased, waiting to be unwrapped and watched. The beer is in the fridge. I'm about to start putting together the special dinner platter for Luscious and I that marks the point where I wish you all a Merry Christmas and book the hell out until the other side of the festivities.

So, before I go, to say thanks for popping in every now and again and reading my bewildering blether, have a short story on me. It's not even remotely festive.

Enjoy, Merry Christmas, and see you on the other side.

Perry hadn’t slept in three days. Not since he’d worked it out. Not since the last piece of the puzzle had presented itself, like a full-colour, 3D blow to the frontal cortex and he’d finally, after twenty years, fit the whole thing together. The World Government was real. He’d found them. The masters of humanity: identified; tagged; nailed down. Incontrovertible proof that, despite all the conspiracy theories, despite all the crazy people and the pop culture mockery and the Hollywood hand-waving, there was a secret cabal that ruled the planet. The faces in his folder. The names on his list. They all checked out. They all left trails. It had taken him twenty years, twenty years of playing the game, being the spy in the network, moving up the corporate and military and Government ladders until he could talk to the right people, stalk the right people, track the right people. And find the right people. All in his folder. All on his list.

Three days. He hadn’t slept, hadn’t stopped moving. Constant movement had become his watchword, his way of avoiding surveillance. He knew too much for safety. Who they were. How they did it. Mind control.  Perry snorted into his coffee. All those theories, all those lunatic fringes, all those message boards. All correct, without the strength of character to prove it. The Government, the real Government, could do control people’s minds. Were already doing it. Had been for years. Perry glanced around the diner. The only question was how. It wasn’t via the air. He had disproved that theory early. But it could be via contact, via subliminal messages in the TV, could even be something they put in the food. Through food. Jesus. He stared down at the coffee, then dropped the cup in sudden panic, watching the brown dregs as they pooled on the tabletop. Jesus. Through the food. He scrambled out of the booth and strode towards the exit. If they were doing it through food then movement was no longer a protection. It was a weakness, perhaps his only one. Anything prepared by a stranger was suspect. He had to get home, had to barricade himself against the world and work out what to do. He would need to source food, as fresh as possible, prepare it himself to be sure. Avoid processed meals, avoid anything tinned. Wash it himself, prepare it himself. That was the only way to be sure.

There was an ATM nearby. Perry steered towards it, peered at himself in the mirrored surface above the slot. Tired, haggard eyes stared back. He took out everything he had, made sure to keep the receipt. Leave no trace behind. That was the key. He turned the collar of his coat up, shrunk inside. A fresh food marketplace. A new kitchen knife. Supplies. Paid in cash. Talked to nobody. Said nothing. The hot weight of his file under his arm, tucked in against his ribs. Hidden. Safe. Took it out as he strode towards his flat. This, this was the evidence that would bring everything down, would expose the secret masters for what they really were, he thought, tearing it into pieces as he walked. Once this got out the world Government, the cabal, would topple. He dropped the folder into a bin, kept walking, his mind made up. Tomorrow, he would find safe avenues for release, people untouched by the global corporate message, and give them the information, see it released to the public in a million ways. He smiled, relieved now he had reached the endgame, and threw his money into an empty lot.

His flat was cold, dark, all his surveillance equipment undisturbed. Perry nodded in satisfaction. They hadn’t found him, not yet. They were still unaware of his pursuit. He put the food away, crumpled up the ATM receipt and flicked it onto the living room floor along with his empty wallet. Then he moved about the flat, making sure everything was in place: pulling out drawers, overturning furniture, slashing cushions with the new knife. Everything was as it should be. Perry released the breath he had been holding. He knew from long experience that this was the most dangerous time. The job was done but not finished. He could not afford complacency. After tomorrow, the world would be changed. There would be danger then. Those whose downfall he caused would be hurt, and would know his name. But for now he was safe, and undetected. Eat only the fresh food, he thought, draining a glass of beer from the fridge. Stay awake one more night. Be alert until the morning. Then, he nodded as he sat down at his computer and deleted the hard drive, then the secret masters will be exposed. Peace could come to the world, and eventually, to William Perry.

There was nothing left to do but wait. Perry put a can of soup on to boil, then returned to the hallway outside his flat. He made sure it was empty, closed and locked his door, then kicked it off its hinges. Twenty years of careful planning would soon be over. The lie at the heart of the world was exposed. Humanity would thank him, in time, when the cabal was thrown down. People could live free, released from their mind-controlled, drone existences. He stepped inside and lay down amongst the wrecked furniture in his living room.

Tomorrow, he thought, as he plunged the knife into his chest, again and again, tomorrow he would change the world. 

2014: THE YEAR I CAN'T EVEN THINK OF A MILDLY WITTY PUN FOR THE TITLE OF THE YEAR IN REVIEW POST REVIEW POST

Time to look back on 2014, and like SOCO in an abattoir, carefully pick through the mountains of shit in the hope of discovering something worthwhile.

1. What did you do in 2014 that you'd never done before?

Visited the Moondyne Joe Festival in Toodyay. And presented a workshop at the Perth Writer's Festival. Which, basically, means that I peaked in February.

Apart from that, this was pretty much a rinse-and-repeat kind of year. 

2. Did you achieve your goals for the year, and will you make more for next year?

Let's be honest, I don't even remember what my goals were, but let's be even more honest: no, I didn't achieve them. It was that kind of year. I'd make some for 2015, but let's be even super-honester, I doubt I'll achieve them either. I can't even tell you if I'll still be writing at this time next year, and if we're super-duper-holy-shit-we're-being-honest-now-aren't-we-honestest with each other, if I'm not writing it's not like very many of you will be here this time next year to read whether or not I've reached them, is it?

I'm moving house in January. Let's just see what a new neighbourhood and new financial situation bring before we make any rash promises. 

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

My Bonus Daughter Cassie gave me tickly-sausage grandchild number 2, Anthony, in February. 

4. Did anyone close to you die?

Luscious' Uncle Neville died in October. Not close to me, but it touched Luscious and that's close enough for comfort.

5. What countries did you visit?

A country road took me home, to the place I adore. Somehow I ended up in West Virginia.

Or nowhere, take your pick.

6. What would you like to have in 2015 that you lacked in 2014?

Inspiration, independence, the means to be my own man instead of exhausting myself at the beck and call of whatever bureaucracy pulls my strings for once.

7. What dates from 2014 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? 

Because I am a time-traveller, the date from 2014 that will stick with me is 10 January 2015. That's when we leave this white elephant of a home I have hated for over 4 years and re-establish a new, streamlined Batthaim in a house we can afford, with gardens I can maintain, in a town we want to get out and about in with facilities and social opportunities we want to pursue.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

I achieved goose eggs this year. My biggest achievement was in allowing Luscious and the kids space to achieve. And did they and how: I talk about that below. But some days, the best thing you can do is be support staff for others, and that pretty much sums up my domestic and professional lives.

9. What was your biggest failure?

Burning out. I shouldn't have allowed myself to get to this place.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

No, but Master 10 had enough for all of us.

11. What was the best thing you bought?

A smaller, more manageable house closer to work and the activities and facilities we use on a regular basis. We move in January.

12. Whose behaviour merited celebration?

Miss 13, who was made Head Girl of her primary school, became a Junior Councillor at the City, and topped a year of hard work and academic extension programs by being awarded dux at her graduation. As far as perfect children having perfect years go, she was, well, perfect.

And, as a pair, Luscious and Master 10. Apart from an abortive attempt to enter the school system, which lasted less than 4 weeks, Master 10 was all but housebound with Rumination Syndrome for the past 18 months. Together, he and his Mum tackled this enforced isolation with a combination of positivity, focus and determination to maintain a quality of life that left me stunned in their faith in each other and the size of the obstacles they conquered on a daily basis: so much so that Master 10 graduated year 4 in mid-November, a full month early. In between times, Luscious maintained a full external load of University study, never dropping below a Distinction in any assessment, maintained a functioning household, and still found time to fit writing in around the edges.

As I began to burn out under the strain of a stupidly high-pressure job and the need to shore up a stuttering writing career, I have watched in little short of awe as they continued to confound despair, illness and ongoing stress to have the kind of year that would make any husband and father weep with pride. They have been my inspiration, and more often then not, the only thing that dragged me out of my bedroom to work in the morning. Faced with their sheer brilliance at life, I have been shamed into attempting the minimum many times more than I wished to.

I have an incredible family, but even more so, they are superb people.

13. Whose behaviour made you appalled and depressed?

Can we go past the vicious, incompetent, and downright criminal bunch of thugs, sociopaths, and bigoted zealots that the repressive, inbred right-wing of this country voted into power?

Nope. We can't.

14. Where did most of your money go?

Keeping our heads above water, with the occasional foray into a quick weekend away with the kids.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

The opportunity to start buying some of the classic space Lego sets I not only had as a kid, but also the ones I missed out on. What can I say? Escapism's been pretty big for me this year.

Master 10 conquering his Rumination Syndrome and insisting he be enrolled in school for 2015 was the most brilliant thing in the world to witness. As of the time of writing, he's 12 weeks recovered and counting.

16. What song will always remind you of 2014?

17. Compared to this time last year, are you: i. happier or sadder? ii. thinner or fatter? iii. richer or poorer?

More tired, fatter, and flatter.

18. What do you wish you'd done more of?

Getting out of the spiralling circles inside my own head and enjoying simple interactions with the real, outside world. I spent far too much of the year gnawing away at my own stresses, and far too little using the small oases of peace to find some joy.

19. What do you wish you'd done less of?

Hiding in social media. The fucking stuff is a virus, giving me far too many opportunities to spit out pronouncements instead of reflecting and taking positive action. Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest... all we do is shout at each other in simple sentences (verbal or visual), all of us at the same time, until the signal to noise ratio is so overwhelming, so all-encompassing, that we wire ourselves up to it and stop believing in the real world. And maybe, if you have a great work-life balance and your keel is set to the optimum angle, that's okay. But I've spent too long this year scurrying into it as if it was some kind of refuge from the process of dealing with my real world careers, interactions, and problems. And because I've viewed it as a refuge, I've used it to build up walls of unhealthy behaviour and statements I would never say in the real world, because this is my refuge, dammit, and here I can choose the manner of my interactions and structure the world to suit my own uneven psyche.

And here's the thing: I don't even like it. And somewhere, this year, I forgot that. Because, when it comes down to it, I'd rather kick a football than tweet. And I'd rather read a book than a status update. And while I recognise the irony of announcing all this via a blog post, the truth is, I don't care: why am I happy to live in a house without terrestrial TV but can't live without fucking Twitter, of all the useless wastes of my psyche? My balance is gone.

So I've canned my Twitter account. And I'll be going through all my little social media accounts that I don't use, don't care about, and am better off without. And if I end up with only this blog-- which I've been maintaining for over 13 years and is, more often than not, a conversation I have with myself than any brilliant, all-encompassing social connector-- and my private Facebook page, wherein I keep in touch with those people I don't get to see in person and those hobby groups that only exist on-line, well, I'll probably be all the happier for it.


20. How did you spend Christmas?

We'll be at Luscious' brother's house, with various members from her side of the family. The kids will be in the pool, Luscious will be in her cups, and I'll be circling the table trying to see if there's any left-over crackling I can gnaw upon.

21. Who did you meet for the first time?

Several members of the Perth Lego Users Group, who finally gave me an outlet to attend a build day and meet some fellow AFOLs. I'll be looking to get out more often in 2015. 

22. Did you fall in love in 2014?

No, I have enough love already.

23. What was your favourite TV program?

It was the year of the crime show in the Batthaim. Apart from introducing Luscious to an old love in the always-excellent Dalziel and Pascoe, we also finished off Ripper Street and Whitechapel from 2013 and ploughed through Vera, The Inspector Lynley Mysteries and (my favourite) The Suspicions of Mr Whicher, all of which were uniformly excellent.

That said, the best thing we discovered this year was nothing of the sort. Last Week Tonight gave a forum to the brilliantly incisive John Oliver, this weekly HBO satirical show presenting him as the outsider who can say the things that established Americans like Stephen Colbert and John Stewart and their mainstream channels can only hint at. And oh, how did he say those things! From incredible skewerings of the Olympics, FIFA, US policing methods, and pharmaceutical lobbyists, to wonderfully absurd campaigns to rescue horny space lizards (and wouldn't it be wonderful if I was making that up?), Oliver took a format on the verge of saturation, destroyed it, and built it in his own, flame-mouthed image. It was so clearly the best thing on TV it makes you wonder why we can't all be like that.

If you've not experienced, here's how he covered the subject of our own Unca Jugears, the dumbfuck we have to apologise for every time he opens his mouth:

24. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?

Not hate, but I have developed a fine contempt for several individuals that has affected the way I've interacted with them. Some I cannot avoid, as they revolve around the same professional circles, but I can certainly feel my career arc altering to exclude them.

25. What was the best book you read?

I handed out three 5-star reviews on Goodreads this year. I re-read The Lord of the Rings for the first time in years, and found it as utterly stunning as I always have. Not always a good book-- time has enhanced its flaws as well as its moments of perfection-- but it remains a truly great one. I also revisited a favourite writer in GK Chesterton. I read his masterpiece The Man Who Was Thursday for the first time, and found it an utterly delightful, comic crime caper with a philosophical bent that lends the spiralling absurdity a serious underpinning that lifts it above a merely humorous work. 

But, overall, I'm going to plump for Lucius' Shephards' The Dragon Griaule as my book of the year. I'd read two of the contained stories before, but nothing could prepare me for the sheer scope, ambition and shining brilliance of this collection. You can read my full Goodreads review here, but take it from me: this is one of the best and most important works of fantasy of the late 20th Century. 

Honourable mention goes to The English Monster by Lloyd Shepherd, a thoroughly wonderful novel that started out as a fictionalisation of the Ratcliffe Highway murders (a subject of great personal fascination) and then morphed into a fantasy crime procedural that had me alternately gripped and giggling with delight at the sheer narrative chutzpah. Put simply, it's the kind of novel I want to write when I grow up. 

King of the Graphic Novels this year was Thor: God of Thunder #1 by Jason Aaron and Esad Ribic, which I called an absolutely stunning re-imagining of the Thor character, with an epic storyline befitting a major player in the Marvel Universe and a powerful God to boot. You can read my full Goodreads review here. 

The Will Self Memorial Just Shut the Fuck Up and Stop Award this year went to Michael Crichton's stunningly awful Pirate Latitudes and Michael Hjorth's deeply tedious crime novel The Disciple, both of which sit proudly atop a DNF pile of two. 

26. What was your greatest musical discovery?

A couple of years ago I gave up on JJJ, as it all it ever seemed to play was second rate American hip-hop, and I was mightily sick of the same whining, out of rhythm yelling, song after song. Halfway through the year, prompted by the death of my iPod, I returned to the station an was immeasurably pleased to find that they'd rediscovered such things as melody and singing. I've even gone so far as to vote in the Hottest 100 for the first time in years. So here's what I voted for, including my favourite pick of the year, a new track by one of my old faves, The Hilltop Hoods:


4. Wrong Direction, British India.

Good old-fashioned tuneful pop music with fresh lyrics and a sense of sweaty urgency. It's not breaking any new ground. It's just good, clean fun.





3. Uptown Funk, Mark Ronson ft. Bruno Mars. What can I say? I love a big band sound, I love funk. And nobody does it better right now than Mark Ronson. All the sounds and rhythms he perfected behind the likes of Amy Winehouse are in full, ahem, swing here.




2. Maybe, Carmada. I've loved electronica since the days when Thomas Dolby and Howard Jones were wandering around sounding like nobody else around them. Not often, but every now and then, a track sticks, and sticks hard. I'm well into this one right now.




1. Cosby Sweater, Hilltop Hoods. Yeah, so I'm old enough to remember when hip-hop wasn't about hitting women and being a scumbag. Rhythm, message and a sense of fun: there's no school like the old school, and this is just one hell of a fun, shape-throwing old school hip-hop slice of goodness. It's also my favourite song of the year.

27. What was your favourite film of this year?

Damn, but there were some good ones this year. First release cinema-wise, my most-anticipated movies were Guardians of the Galaxy and The Lego Movie, both of which I found to be fun, funny, and utterly delightful. Both movies were riven with self-awareness, calling out their audience on the geekiness that had brought them to the cinema while simultaneously reinforcing and validating the love of the material from which they were wrought. Cinema has the power to influence, inform, and change modes of thinking, and yet, these movies were built on central foundations of fun and inclusiveness, and I loved them. The other much-anticipated event, from my point of view anyway, was Godzilla, which, well, wasn't. A few good scenes, interspersed with dull, uninvolving characters played by actors with no discernible personality, may not make you the worst movie of the year, but it will ensure that I shan't be picking up the DVD later in the year.

The Battbox played host to a number of crackers, as well: Sex and Drugs and Rock and Roll, Andy Serkis' love letter to Ian Dury, was memorable for a stunning central performance. Ditto Eric and Ernie, a BBC Made-for-TV effort that cast a sympathetic and nostalgic view back at the early days of the beloved Morecambe and Wise. Longford was emotionally exhausting, The Enemy a labyrinthine and twisted look at a broken psyche that was a most unexpected pleasure and the best thing the terminally inconsistent Jake Gyllenhaal has done in years. Europa Report was the best SF movie I saw this year, supplementing its low budget with a superbly tight script and flawless performances, and The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo was stunning in its brutality and visceral performances.

But for me, Ralph Fiennes scintillating adaption of Coriolanus, transporting the action of Shakespeare's play to a modern, Balkan setting, was my film of the year. A superb cast at the top of their form-- Fiennes and (particularly) Brian Cox have never been better-- performing one of the most underrated of Shakespeare's works, in an adaptation that enhances the scripts' strength and pares away its weakness to leave a perfectly filmic treatment.... while the 1999 Titus remains, to my mind, the best filmic adaptation ever of a Shakespeare play, this is only slightly less worthy, and easily on a par with Ian McKellen's brilliant Richard III. It's a stunning achievement.

This year's What Did You Expect, It's an Adam Sandler Hate Crime Stinking Turd Sandwich Award goes to Blended, which is just the latest... well, the hint is in the title. 

28. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

44 this year, and I spent the day at work. Birthdays are nice and all, but when Luscious has a hospital visit you need time off for, you swap your RDOs around. 

29. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

Control.

30. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2014?

If the shit fits...

31. What kept you sane?

To be honest, I was so burned out by the time I reached my Christmas break I'm not sure I retained it. I find myself utterly repelled by the thought of returning to my day job, of taking up my keyboard, of doing anything beyond keeping my front door closed and the world on the other side of it, that I'm not sure sanity is necessarily the issue.

32. What political issue stirred you the most?

The continuing inhumanity and sociopathic hatred evinced by the current Liberal government. Let's be clear: buffoons like Joe Hockey and Malcolm Turnbull may be simply incompetent and unfit for office, but Tony Abbott, Scott Morrison and Christopher Pyne are criminals, and it will be a happy day when they are dragged into court to answer charges. Long may the dwell in ignominy and disgrace.

33. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2014.

It's time to concentrate on my own goals and peace of mind first. I'll get to the rest of you in your turn.

34. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.

Woman, I know you understand,
The little child inside the man.
Please remember, my life is in your hands,
And woman, hold me close to your heart.
            -- Woman, John Lennon

THUMBNAIL THURSDAY SAYS MERRY CHRISTMAS, Y'ALL

 

 

 

Merry Christmas, everyone.

THUMBNAIL THURSDAY GOES TO HELL

"Tell me where you see yourself in five years."

 

 

 

Hitler, Brutus and Satan, and it's an entrance interview in Hell.

 

 

They can't all be winners......

 

Review: Making Money

Making Money by Terry Pratchett

My rating: 4 of 5 stars



Written at the start of Pratchett's decline into formula and repetition, there's still enough wit and sparkle in this volume to remind the reader that, at his best, there are few turners of phrase in 21st century literature to match him. Funny, insightful, ludicrous and absurd in turn, this is in the upper half of his catalogue without being at the very peak. An enjoyable diversion, and cleanser of the palate before turning to meatier works.



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Review: Always Outnumbered, Always Outgunned

Always Outnumbered, Always Outgunned by Walter Mosley

My rating: 4 of 5 stars



Not so much a novel as a series of linked short stories. The progression of former prisoner Socrates Fortlow from social outcast to moral compass of his tiny, impoverished community in the heart of LA is told in a series of short morality plays, each one building on what came before to give a compelling insight into the difficulties faced by the marginalised communities on the fringes of urban America and the redemptive power of a man who regrets the badness in his life. Some of Mosley's best writing in years: simple, yet brutally powerful



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Review: An Advancement Of Learning

An Advancement Of Learning by Reginald Hill

My rating: 4 of 5 stars



Thoroughly entertaining read, full of acerbic humour and tightly plotted mystery, with well-drawn characters who jump from the page and demand the reader take notice of them. Bawdier and more pointed than the TV series that led me to it, this is an utter delight of a crime novel, and one that has me scurrying back to the library tomorrow to fetch a new volume of Hill's work.



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DROOPY DRAWERS, FORTY FOUR

I turned 44 years old on Tuesday. To be honest, I don't know what to make of it. Lyn and the kids were beautiful to me, allowing me time to open and build my great big birthday Lego set and serving me a dinner created especially for me. And my bonus sons Aiden and Blake, as well as their respective girlfriends, gave me gifts that showed they really did think about what I like and what sort of person I am when I allow myself the space to simply be my private self.

It's a big thing, for me, when I receive gifts from my bonus children-- I came into their lives when they were pushing towards their teen years, and they would have every right to consider me solely as the man who married their mother, rather than any sort of friend or father figure. I'd understand their reasoning, if they did, because I've already lived with that sort of attitude-- my parents separated when I was only slightly older than they were when I came into their lives, and my stepfather made it very clear that he was only interested in being a part of my mother's life, not mine or my brother's. He even refused to marry her until we were both out of the house. But they don't. They took me into their lives as much as I tried to make them a part of mine. They not only remember my day, they mark it as something to which they attach importance, and that makes me feel like I've done something right by them.

And knowing that the members of my family see me as someone important helps, because right at the moment, my daily life seems to come with a high degree of difficulty: my day job is trying, and I'm struggling with the responsibility of several events I don't wish to run yet have to acknowledge fall squarely within my portfolio; the events I normally do enjoy running have left me flat and uninspired; after a positive start to writing work this month I've pretty much abandoned Nanowrimo and am taking stock of my upcoming work; the novel once known as Magit and Bugrat is to undergo another title change at the publisher's behest and has been pushed back a second time, so that it will appear far enough into 2016 to pretty much destroy any career momentum it might have helped maintain in the wake of the Corpse-Rat King books; and all in all, I'd rather just be at home with Lyn and the kids, preparing for our move to the new Batthome and enjoying a quiet and self-driven life together.

Perhaps it's my mid-life crisis calling, but I'm feeling a little sick and tired of living my life at the beck and call of outside parties.

I read over the blog post I made this time last year, and it was full of grand plans for the year between then and now. In the end, almost none of them came to fruition. So, no big plans for me this time. No announcements or prognostications. All I want for this coming year is to move to my new house, find a measure of peace with my family, and try to rediscover some sense of personal satisfaction with what I see in the mirror.

The way I feel right now, that would be enough.

Review: The First Book of Lankhmar

The First Book of Lankhmar by Fritz Leiber

My rating: 4 of 5 stars



Immensely fun romp through the bedrock of modern fantasy with two engaging and enjoyable characters, until the constant overwriting and simmering misogyny begins to chafe just a little too often and a little too constantly for comfort. Cut the reading experience into thirds, along the dotted lines described by the volumes that make up the book, and refresh your palate in between them, and this remains a thoroughly fun experience. It just requires the reader to be understanding of its real world cultural roots, otherwise you'll finish the book relieved that it's all over, which is less than these seminal stories deserve.



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Review: Plotting and Writing Suspense Fiction

Plotting and Writing Suspense Fiction by Patricia Highsmith

My rating: 3 of 5 stars



Desperately dated and old-fashioned how-to that shows its age. While there are still nuggets of relevance o be picked out on the matters of narrative construction and motivation, there's nothing here that can't be found in more contemporary guides by current authors, and the out-of-date personal comments and prevailing attitude of the book are best left in the era in which the book was first written.



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BUT I'VE GOT A HELL OF AN EXCUSE

So here we are, then. The 9th of November. By nano stats, that means I should have completed 15 000 of my unholy mess novel as of tonight. That means that, as of tonight, I'm only 7.56 days behind where I'm supposed to be!

But, like Jesus said when his Mum wanted to know who pinched all the tuna sandwiches, I have a hell of an excuse. Let's break it down, shall we?

Wednesday 29 October: Agree with Luscious Lyn that the Batthaim has become too big, expensive, difficult to maintain and draining. Decide to sell the place.
Thursday: Appoint real estate agent we've been sniffing around for a while. Receive list of final renovations necessary to bring house up to saleable standard.
Saturday 1 November: Received square metre of soil. Spend half a day carting the bastarding thing out to the back yard to fill the giant empty garden bed that's been sat there empty for two years. Plant colourful plants. Trim giant sprawling half-dead passionfruit plant. Patch cracks in upstairs room ceiling and kids bathroom. Do some actual writing, by virtue of mad panic and previously undiscovered wizard powers.
Sunday: More patching, sanding, and carting heavy bloody things all over the place. Pack family up and sod off for an hour while real estate agent brings people through.
Monday: Write the 2 thousandth and change words on the novel. Do shoulder stretches. Use bendy shoulder muscles to help pat myself on back.
Tuesday: Accompany Luscious to hospital. Be supportive husband while she undergoes horrendously invasive surgery.
Wednesday: Continue husband support role while trying to persuade increasingly grumpy wife that resting in bed does not involve any form of cleaning up or housework. More patching. More fucking sanding. More fucking painting.
Wednesday evening: Pack sore and sorry wife into car and spend what's supposed to be an hour at cafe while real estate agent brings people around the house even though he's been bloody told specifically not to do this today because Luscious is supposed to be resting and not gallivanting around the bloody neighbourhood.
Slightly later Wednesday evening: Real estate agent sells Batthaim. Becomes best friend for life.
Thursday: Packing. Lots and lots of packing.
Friday: Meet with mortgage broker just to make sure we can afford to actually move and won't end up living in a shopping trolley and smelling like cat pee.
Yesterday: Fucking patch. Fucking sand. Fucking paint. Get in car and drive round and round and round suburb of choice looking at interminable series of ugly, run down and general piece of shit house I wouldn't use for a crack house, never mind a place of residence.
Saturday, 3pm: Find the perfect house. Cry tears of relief. Wipe eyes, Put in an offer.
Rest of yesterday: drive from Baldivis to Southern Bloody River because the idiot not-local real estate agent didn't actually have the forms to sign an offer. Sit around for the better part of two hours while idiot not-local real estate faffs about like an idiot, including actually having to read the forms to himself to make sure he's got the right damn forms...... out of there by 6pm, nobody dies, it's a close-run thing.
Late last night: idiot real estate agent rings. Lyn. I think he worked out who best to speak to. Our offer is accepted.
All today, starting at 6.20am and finishing at gone 5pm when I stopped caring about life: MORE FUCKING SANDING AND PAINTING. Empty, box, clean and deconstruct entire shed. Entire. Damn. Shed.

Yeah, so, all of which is an overly dramatic way of saying, hey, what a week: the Luscious one has had surgery, we've sold our house and have bought a new one, and for the rest of the year we'll be packing and organising finances and-- all being as per instructions-- we'll be moving house the day before Christmas.

Turns out, Real Life (tm) trumps writing. Who knew?

THUMBNAIL THURSDAY GOES THE BOOT

"Nope, I still don't see anything."

 

 

 

Be honest: weeks and weeks cooped up together, in that tiny space, with their smells and their tics and their annying personal habits, with no possible means of escape. Then there you are, all by yourselves, and nobody's watching...... I mean, you would, wouldn't you?







GUEST POST: KEITH STEVENSON

Ladies and gentlemen, meet Keith Stevenson.

Keith is the man who gave Father Muerte his big break, debuting the Father's first story, Father Muerte and the Theft, in Aurealis 29, and providing me with my first sequel opportunity by gently nudging me until I sent him Father Muerte & the Rain. Since then he's gone on to found a series of excellently-produced publishing ventures including the Terra Incognita podcast; Dimension 6 electronic magazine and coeur de lion publishing, where he regularly produces brilliant tomes such as X6 and Anywhere But Earth. He's an all-round science fiction good guy, bon vivant, editor, publisher and reviewer. You can find his bloggy goodness right here.

And damn good writer in his own right: His debut novel Horizon is now available as an ebook via Harper Collins. Which brings us to the very reason for this introduction: Today, Keith joins us to talk about charting future history as part of his Horizon blog tour.

Give his entrance a nice, warm hand:

 

Horizon — Futureshock: Charting the History of Tomorrow

 

I’d like to thank Lee for giving over some space on his blog for the Horizon Blog Tour.

 

Horizon is my debut science fiction novel published by Harper Voyager Impulse. It’s an SF thriller centred on a deep space exploration mission that goes very wrong, with repercussions for the future of all life on Earth.

 

While the main focus of the story is the tense drama that plays out between the crew in the cramped confines of the ship, a lot of the grunt work in good science fiction goes into imagining the world of the future and how future events shape characters and create a believable background.

 

The explorer ship Magellan takes off on its mission between sixty and eighty years from now and the ‘in-flight’ time is fifty-five years (from our perspective). I’ve been deliberately vague with the starting point of the timeline in case actual historical events trip me up. But the world of 2075 (assuming we are all still here) has been mapped out to some extent already.

 

Certainly, unless certain intransigent governments come to their senses, we will be facing a climate disaster by then. The UN predicts we will reach a population of 9.1 billion by 2050, with population peaking in 2070 at 9.4 billion, and the great majority of those extra billions will be born into the poorest nations. Food security will be a major issue as the planet struggles to feed those billions. In today’s world, already over a billion people are going hungry.

 

Certainly in the short- and medium-term, the problems we see emerging in the Middle East following the Arab Spring look set to continue. Ethnic tensions are also leading to fracturing borders across Europe and elsewhere. It is a tense time for the world right now and our geopolitical map is in flux. And yet we are also witnessing amazing advances in all areas of science.

 

So here are the elements I have to play with: climate change and environmental degradation, population growth and impact on infrastructure, racial tensions and war, technological development and advances — I took all these factors and pieced together a future history that maps out key events in the fifty or so years leading up to the point when Magellan launches from Earth on its mission of exploration:

 

No. of years before wake-up near Iota Pesei	Event
110	Nuclear bombardment of selected targets in the Middle East and Asia by the United States of America, Australia, and the United Kingdom.
109	War on Terror officially declared ‘at an end’.
107	Compact of Asian Peoples formed. Compact petitions for UN membership. United States of America exercises its veto.
104	Pro-EU factions win UK government in landslide election.
96	Significant shrinkage of polar icecaps recorded for the fifteenth successive year. Effect of rising sea levels felt worldwide.
94	Fuel-cell boom sees formation of the Union of Northern States to protect sensitive patents.
94	Kyoto III finally ratified.
93	Compact coalition cuts all trade ties with Australia.
90	EU governments consolidated under a single body.
88	Hurricane Ivan lays waste to the eastern seaboard of United States of America and a large part of Central America.
87	United States and Australian governments ratify creation of Pax Americana, effectively merging the two countries into a consolidated trade, defence and diplomatic entity. The wastelands from Florida to Pennsylvania are officially excluded from the Pax.
85	The first fully fledged Pax election sees an increase in pro-Green elected candidates as a result of increasing environmental degradation and the legacy of Hurricane Ivan.
84	Pax Americana vetoes the Compact’s petition for UN membership.
79	To meet its Kyoto III targets, Pax Americana switches exclusively to fuel-cell technology for all public and an increasing percentage of private power utilisation.
78	The Pax oversees a massive retooling and retraining effort to gear its industries for the new information economy. The need for a larger skilled workforce prompts employment lotteries in the marginal eastern seaboard colonies. Thousands of former USA citizens are resettled in the Pax.
74	The Union of Northern States develops second-generation fuel-cell technology, halving cost and mass and doubling output of the new cells.
72	The Pax economy takes off on the crest of the fuel-cell revolution and the rebirth of Silicon Valley.
66	First bio-jack experiments yield amazing results in quadriplegic subjects.
64	The UNS uses its voting block to force Pax Americana to approve the Compact’s petition for UN member status. Compact granted member status of United Nations.
63	Pax American Space Administration (PASA) formed, with its headquarters at Woomera, Australia. Near-Earth asteroid mining commences. Limited trial and use of deepsleep for asteroid-belt mining sorties.
63	UN aid program to the Compact finds health infrastructure is ‘primitive’ and in need of immediate assistance. Pax, UNS and EU pledge six billion U-dollars to build and equip fifteen hospitals and train over three hundred doctors.
61	EU scientist Earnhard Godel develops the picopulse black-box propulsion system. Wins Nobel Prize.
60	Environmental studies conclude that the depletion of the ozone layer has halted.
60	PASA announces the Explorer Ship program. International Space Station brought out of mothballs to coordinate the search for a target star.
57	Testing of Magellan prototype explorer ship complete. Crew selection includes Pax, EU and UNS members; however, the UNS representative is injured in training. The Pax government requests a replacement and UNS suggests a Compact citizen.
55	Magellan launches from Earth orbit.

 

Of course, the fact that the crew comprises members of the Pax Americana, the Compact and the European Union, means they are all heavily invested in this future history and moulded by the climactic events that took place in the decades before launch. But the world has not stood still while they’ve slept on the way to Horizon, and there’s a whole swathe of future history they need to catch up on when they wake, not all of which will be to everyone’s liking.

 

 

 

Like what you've read? Well, there's plenty more. Make with the clicky and the calendar, and follow the Horizon blog tour:

 

3 November — Extract of Horizon — Voyager blog

 

4 November — Character Building: Meet the Crew — TrentJamieson’s blog

 

5 November — Welcome to Magellan: Inside the Ship — Darkmatter

 

6 November — Futureshock: Charting the History of Tomorrow — Lee Battersby’s blog (hint: you're here)

 

7 November — Engage: Tinkering With a Quantum Drive — JoanneAnderton’s blog

 

10 November — Stormy Weather: Facing Down Climate Change — BenPeek’s blog

 

11 November — Time Travel: Relatively Speaking — Rjurik Davidson’sblog

 

12 November — Consciousness Explorers: Inside a Transhuman — Alan Baxter’s blog

 

13 November — From the Ground Up: Building a Planet — SeanWright’s blog

 

14 November — Life Persists: Finding the Extremophile — GreigBeck’s Facebook page

 

17 November — Interview — Marianne De Pierres’ blog