The Chinese have a curse; "May you live in interesting times." They mean that an age of excitement, of drama, might sound romantic and thrilling but is actually too dangerous to be worth it.
Well, we live in interesting times.
US power is in decline. It's creating a power vacuum and history tells us that's always a time of danger, as old powers struggle to hold on to dominance and new rivals emerge to challenge them. The rising powers now are China, which everyone knows, and I think Germany - dominant in the EU since reunification, set to become more so now Britain is leaving, and fast building a captive export market in eastern Europe. The EU dances to a German drum now, and already that's caused resentment in places like Greece and Italy. Again, potential for future conflict.
Bear in mind as well that the US Federal Reserve said recently it expects a recession to hit during 2017. A US economic crisis would quickly spread to the Eurozone, stagnant since the 2008 crash. Even a small blip could easily break the Italian banking system, which is massively indebted and weak. Break that and the single currency collapses.
These are only examples from a longer list. And yes, there are always such examples; and yes, someone will always be around to cry "Woe to thee, O Jerusalem." But I'm not prone to panic. As a youth in the 80's I didn't worry about nuclear war, because the Cold War enemies knew each other too well, they were known quantities. There was stability, and thus a good degree of safety. Now that stability is gone, and the survivors of the 20th Century's wars (hot and cold alike) are slipping slowly from their pedestals. What follows from that?
I do not know... but it will be interesting.
Monday, 31 October 2016
Monday, 17 October 2016
Twitchy Fingers
I hardly ever have time to write these days. It's the first time that's ever happened to me, and it feels weird. I swear my typing fingers twitch in my sleep. Come to that, they twitch when I'm awake, now and then.
The worst part is that my mind is still involved. I come up with story ideas, ways to rewrite a chapter or novel, intriguing little characters, and all the rest. I still watch a stranger doing this or that and think "Nice, I can use that in the book that's seventh on my To Do list." And then I can't find time to sit and write. I have all these thoughts and can't write them out of me. It's enough to make my head explode.
Last week I was off work on annual leave. Time to write! All my family promptly went down with flu so hideous we were vomiting, and poor Bella ended up in hospital til midnight, being drip-fed nutrients through a syringe. So, no time to write. At all.
Bella's fine, by the way. As long as that's true I'll cope with not writing... sorta.
But I've got to write, at least some of the time. I feel like a fish that isn't allowed to swim; what's the point of being a fish at all, if that's true? Something needs to change. A new job with different hours, maybe, to free up more time. But you know, I'm starting to suspect that when you have an 8-month old daughter, you just don't have time for anything else.
I am finding this hard,
The worst part is that my mind is still involved. I come up with story ideas, ways to rewrite a chapter or novel, intriguing little characters, and all the rest. I still watch a stranger doing this or that and think "Nice, I can use that in the book that's seventh on my To Do list." And then I can't find time to sit and write. I have all these thoughts and can't write them out of me. It's enough to make my head explode.
Last week I was off work on annual leave. Time to write! All my family promptly went down with flu so hideous we were vomiting, and poor Bella ended up in hospital til midnight, being drip-fed nutrients through a syringe. So, no time to write. At all.
Bella's fine, by the way. As long as that's true I'll cope with not writing... sorta.
But I've got to write, at least some of the time. I feel like a fish that isn't allowed to swim; what's the point of being a fish at all, if that's true? Something needs to change. A new job with different hours, maybe, to free up more time. But you know, I'm starting to suspect that when you have an 8-month old daughter, you just don't have time for anything else.
I am finding this hard,
Saturday, 1 October 2016
Bad Times
Horrible times at work.
I expected to lose my job yesterday. A few days ago the manager wrote a 3-month performance review for me that was just so flawed and contradictory that I felt I couldn't accept it, so yesterday I told him I won't sign it. I've also made a formal complaint over his behaviour, which I find boorish at best and verbally abusive at worst.
This is not how to have fun at your job.
I'm trying to get out, but at this time of year there aren't many good permanent jobs around, it's all seasonal work. I do have an interview on Tuesday, so hopefully this will change soon... and I really do need it to. Whether it's selling a book or working with gribbly diseases, I've got to get out of that place.
Meantime, I've had a real cracker of a new story idea, about a disparate bunch of social misfits who are thrown together to bring a cure to an ailing queen. Trouble is, the cure is found in only one place, an abandoned mine now inhabited by something dark and unknown and very, very hungry.
Shame I have so little time to write these days really.
I expected to lose my job yesterday. A few days ago the manager wrote a 3-month performance review for me that was just so flawed and contradictory that I felt I couldn't accept it, so yesterday I told him I won't sign it. I've also made a formal complaint over his behaviour, which I find boorish at best and verbally abusive at worst.
This is not how to have fun at your job.
I'm trying to get out, but at this time of year there aren't many good permanent jobs around, it's all seasonal work. I do have an interview on Tuesday, so hopefully this will change soon... and I really do need it to. Whether it's selling a book or working with gribbly diseases, I've got to get out of that place.
Meantime, I've had a real cracker of a new story idea, about a disparate bunch of social misfits who are thrown together to bring a cure to an ailing queen. Trouble is, the cure is found in only one place, an abandoned mine now inhabited by something dark and unknown and very, very hungry.
Shame I have so little time to write these days really.
Monday, 19 September 2016
Erro!
My little Isabella has spoken her first words. "Erro!" came first, then "Mama" and "Yeah", and now today "Dada." It's all incredibly thrilling. I expect her to be reading her own bedtime stories by the time she's two, and writing novels before she turns seven. Seems reasonable.
People keep telling us that Bella is open, warm-hearted and always cheerful. It was her fifth day in nursery before the staff ever saw her cry, and then it was because another baby was upset. My parents often said I was the same as a toddler. I don't remember it. By the time my long-term memory started up much of the joy had been knocked out of me.
Why do we do this to ourselves? Children need to learn about stranger danger, to be careful crossing the road, and not to touch hot things. They'll become warier, but we do more. Too often we fill our kids with our own hotchpotch of fears and biases, some of them society's, some of them our own. Caz and I are trying not to. If we succeed well enough that Bella grows into a happy, confident young woman, we'll have done all right.
I say I want her to be the first woman on Mars, but I don't really. I want her to be the best she can be at whatever she chooses to do, while still being happy.
People keep telling us that Bella is open, warm-hearted and always cheerful. It was her fifth day in nursery before the staff ever saw her cry, and then it was because another baby was upset. My parents often said I was the same as a toddler. I don't remember it. By the time my long-term memory started up much of the joy had been knocked out of me.
Why do we do this to ourselves? Children need to learn about stranger danger, to be careful crossing the road, and not to touch hot things. They'll become warier, but we do more. Too often we fill our kids with our own hotchpotch of fears and biases, some of them society's, some of them our own. Caz and I are trying not to. If we succeed well enough that Bella grows into a happy, confident young woman, we'll have done all right.
I say I want her to be the first woman on Mars, but I don't really. I want her to be the best she can be at whatever she chooses to do, while still being happy.
Monday, 29 August 2016
Great Books
Like Eric Klingenberg, by coincidence, I've just started to re-read the Harry Potter books. I do, every now and then, just as I re-read other favourites, The Awakeners, by Sheri S Tepper; The Player of Games by Iain M Banks, It, by Stephen King; and so on.
But I don't always do this. There was a time when Guy Kay's Tigana was on the list of constant re-reads, but no more. I tired of it, I suppose. Lord of the Rings fell away a long time ago, after a dozen reads. Some stories stay with me and I'll get the itch to experience them again, while others are lost, or stay for a time and then fade. All of which brings me to a question I remember from my sadly far-off school days - what makes a great book?
My answer then, as now, is that a great book is one you revisit time and again. One in which you always seem to find something new, or an event to see in a new light. I know it's an incomplete answer, maybe a poor one, but it's as close as I can get. And it means that for each reader, the list of 'great books' will be different.
Isn't that refreshing?
But I don't always do this. There was a time when Guy Kay's Tigana was on the list of constant re-reads, but no more. I tired of it, I suppose. Lord of the Rings fell away a long time ago, after a dozen reads. Some stories stay with me and I'll get the itch to experience them again, while others are lost, or stay for a time and then fade. All of which brings me to a question I remember from my sadly far-off school days - what makes a great book?
My answer then, as now, is that a great book is one you revisit time and again. One in which you always seem to find something new, or an event to see in a new light. I know it's an incomplete answer, maybe a poor one, but it's as close as I can get. And it means that for each reader, the list of 'great books' will be different.
Isn't that refreshing?
Thursday, 18 August 2016
Babushka
The internet has changed the world.
Well, we all know that, eh? I couldn't have written my books without it. I do a lot of research, with up to a dozen windows open on my PC at the same time. For Risen King I needed details on Celtic and Saxon gods, warfare, language and clothing, among other things, for the story to work. The big one is language, because finding an English-Saxon dictionary in the library would be really hard, but I can find one online in moments.
But the changes can be surprising. For example, between a third and a half of my blog's readership is in Russia, and I don't understand that at all.
I've never been to Russia. Only sold a couple of books there. And I hardly know a thing about the place, except the one-line caricatures we see on the evening news. Russia is such a vast and diverse country that I think it's probably impossible to ever know the country well unless you're Russian in the first place - and even then, you'd have to work at it. What does a guy from St Petersburg know about fishermen on the Tunguska river?
Well, maybe a lot in fact, because if Russians read the blog of some British bloke, they might read one another's blogs too. If Tunguska fishermen write blogs. Might be too busy trying to dodge honking great asteroids.
But you know, it's important we do read one another's thoughts, because it's the great blessing of the web. Rely on the news and we in the West might think Russians are mostly ex-KGB, and all of them want to conquer Ukraine. But we don't have to rely on the BBC, or CNN. We can just have a chat. I can find out what Tunguska fishermen think about, and learn what the babushka system actually involves. I just bet I'll also find that Russians aren't so different from us.
Well, we all know that, eh? I couldn't have written my books without it. I do a lot of research, with up to a dozen windows open on my PC at the same time. For Risen King I needed details on Celtic and Saxon gods, warfare, language and clothing, among other things, for the story to work. The big one is language, because finding an English-Saxon dictionary in the library would be really hard, but I can find one online in moments.
But the changes can be surprising. For example, between a third and a half of my blog's readership is in Russia, and I don't understand that at all.
I've never been to Russia. Only sold a couple of books there. And I hardly know a thing about the place, except the one-line caricatures we see on the evening news. Russia is such a vast and diverse country that I think it's probably impossible to ever know the country well unless you're Russian in the first place - and even then, you'd have to work at it. What does a guy from St Petersburg know about fishermen on the Tunguska river?
Well, maybe a lot in fact, because if Russians read the blog of some British bloke, they might read one another's blogs too. If Tunguska fishermen write blogs. Might be too busy trying to dodge honking great asteroids.
But you know, it's important we do read one another's thoughts, because it's the great blessing of the web. Rely on the news and we in the West might think Russians are mostly ex-KGB, and all of them want to conquer Ukraine. But we don't have to rely on the BBC, or CNN. We can just have a chat. I can find out what Tunguska fishermen think about, and learn what the babushka system actually involves. I just bet I'll also find that Russians aren't so different from us.
Saturday, 30 July 2016
Rebounding
Hi guys.
Well, Angry Robot turned down Death of Ghosts. They sent me an email explaining that I'd broken a rule by entering more than one novel, and quoted the rule - which was in the FAQs section. I read the rules, and the limit of one submission wasn't mentioned there. So I feel a bit hard done by.
Still, the novel is obviously good enough. It took the Robots six months to decide against it, and then they only did so on a technicality. So, onwards and upwards. If you can't suffer these blows and rebound then you're never going to make it as a writer anyway.
I may have indulged in some frustrated cursing, mind.
At any rate, my next published novel will now be Black Lord of Eagles, due out at the end of this year or early next. It's volume one of a story about a people called the Ashir, who've always believed they're alone in the world, the only civilisation on earth - and then strangers come. The novel is about their struggle to hold onto their land, and also to keep some sense of themselves when all their old certainties are being destroyed.
One of the stars of the book is the setting. It's an ancient land, covered with ruined temples to gods no one remembers anymore, filled with peoples of different tribes, made of jungles and plateaux and deep valleys. By night pumas cough and by day spider monkeys scream in the trees. It's ruled by a king, but the spiritual power rests with a man called the Servant, who bears a birthmark which names him as the chosen one of the main god. This is one of the central characters, a man called Kai, who usually opens festivals and takes part in ceremonies. Now he finds himself in the middle of a struggle he never dreamed of.
I'll be talking about Ghosts on The Voice radio on Monday night, in the Book Club slot at 7pm. I'll also speak about Sol Bookshop, at the end of the Strand in Barnstaple on the Square. Sol now runs a stand for local authors, and there are several on the shelves; Jody Medland, Olli Tooley, Michelle Woollacott, and my good self (hehe), plus others. If you fancy a good read by a local writer, pop down, there's something to suit most tastes. And if you're sitting about on Monday with nothing much to do, tune into The Voice. With an hour of mixed music and chat to fill, I might even say something useful now and then.
Well, you never know.
Well, Angry Robot turned down Death of Ghosts. They sent me an email explaining that I'd broken a rule by entering more than one novel, and quoted the rule - which was in the FAQs section. I read the rules, and the limit of one submission wasn't mentioned there. So I feel a bit hard done by.
Still, the novel is obviously good enough. It took the Robots six months to decide against it, and then they only did so on a technicality. So, onwards and upwards. If you can't suffer these blows and rebound then you're never going to make it as a writer anyway.
I may have indulged in some frustrated cursing, mind.
At any rate, my next published novel will now be Black Lord of Eagles, due out at the end of this year or early next. It's volume one of a story about a people called the Ashir, who've always believed they're alone in the world, the only civilisation on earth - and then strangers come. The novel is about their struggle to hold onto their land, and also to keep some sense of themselves when all their old certainties are being destroyed.
One of the stars of the book is the setting. It's an ancient land, covered with ruined temples to gods no one remembers anymore, filled with peoples of different tribes, made of jungles and plateaux and deep valleys. By night pumas cough and by day spider monkeys scream in the trees. It's ruled by a king, but the spiritual power rests with a man called the Servant, who bears a birthmark which names him as the chosen one of the main god. This is one of the central characters, a man called Kai, who usually opens festivals and takes part in ceremonies. Now he finds himself in the middle of a struggle he never dreamed of.
I'll be talking about Ghosts on The Voice radio on Monday night, in the Book Club slot at 7pm. I'll also speak about Sol Bookshop, at the end of the Strand in Barnstaple on the Square. Sol now runs a stand for local authors, and there are several on the shelves; Jody Medland, Olli Tooley, Michelle Woollacott, and my good self (hehe), plus others. If you fancy a good read by a local writer, pop down, there's something to suit most tastes. And if you're sitting about on Monday with nothing much to do, tune into The Voice. With an hour of mixed music and chat to fill, I might even say something useful now and then.
Well, you never know.
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