Pro-Fanity

Art Toy Round Up

Fri, 08 Jan 2010 11:22:02 GMT

Apparently, I've now been posting over at Forces of Geek for over a year - and had a lot of fun learning how to a) meet writing deadlines, b) conduct basic interviews and c) play with LOTS of very cool and foolish plastic things.

Like this one:-

Om nom nom...

Anyone else hungry?

One Of Those Days When

Wed, 06 Jan 2010 19:12:39 GMT

You spend all day carefully grinding out those precious words.

One. Sentence. At. A. Time.

And each one hurts like a mental cheesegrater.

Until you get in the bath, and no longer have access to writing implements.

Then the Muse comes and flicks bubbles at you, forcing you to drip water through the house and frantically type while hanging on to your towel, all the time wondering if your fingers will actually freeze before the idea has a framework on the page - but you keep typing anyway and you know full well that everything you've spent hours on already will just end up in the 'maybe later' folder...

..but that's okay because what you have now kicks BUTT.

It's just One Of Those Days When :)

Bwa-hahahahahaaaa!

Tue, 05 Jan 2010 09:58:12 GMT

This morning, some lovely PR person (nameless obviously) has sent out a talent interview offer to her entire contacts list.

Lovely lady that she is, she had left that contacts list visible.

Hoooooooo boy - it's Christmas eleven months early :D

The Best Days of Our Lives

Mon, 04 Jan 2010 09:38:29 GMT

Were in the heyday of the shared house at Sigismund Road, 1991 - where we spent rather too much time playing R. Talsorian's CyberPunk.

My first character was a heavy-duty Apone-style ex-Sergeant, rather creatively named 'Panther' due to her colour and the tat on her back.

While she never owned one of the below (I believe she entered the game on a Honda CBR 500), it still made me laugh my arse off.

After all, 2013 isn't that far away...

Panther-Shaped Motorcycle

Win-Win: How To Sign An Ebook (repost)

Sat, 02 Jan 2010 14:10:03 GMT

It’s so simple, it’s genius.

Removable, collectable vinyl covers – plain, a selection of colours, maybe they can be stylised by your favourite art toy designer – but ultimately, they’re there to collect signatures. Take one to a Convention, keep it on you, it protects your Kindle, it looks cool – and you get to show off all the autographs/sketches you’ve collected.

It’s a talking point in the bar – a great way to chat up fanboys/girls and a lovely excuse to approach your favourite writer. Plus the authors get to keep up with their public appearances – hell, if this is marketed right and catches on, it could be a new and different lease of eventing life… bigger multi-author signings will surely become more popular, and (we’re back to this again) everybody wins.

And how can you lose?

• People love to collect stuff – toys, stickers, hardware.
• People love to show stuff off – particularly in this industry.
• How many geeks have covers for their laptops – collect a year’s worth of stickers then change for a new one?
• How many fans have signing books – a new page for every author and/or artist they’ve met?
• How many people collect art toys, blind-boxed or otherwise?

As my boss would say, this fucking writes itself.

Art toys have invaded every level of the geek lifestyle – from iPhones to USB keys to every kind of ‘streetgeek’ fashion… the MonQee was a groundbreaker – the first cross-over of art toy and speculative fiction.

He proved that it works.

Let’s do this again – focused and saleable, an industry revolution. Vinyl designers to produce signable, collectable covers for eBooks. Don’t even get me started on rare versions and limited editions and yadda yadda…

It’s so simple, it’s genius.

So - who's going to manufacture me a prototype?

So That Was 2009?

Fri, 01 Jan 2010 21:24:55 GMT

And so.

Sitting here in the quiet, child in bed (got to stay up late and watch the Doctor regenerate), other half – now fiancé – on his way to Brisbane for the first leg of his tour.

The number 2010 isn’t real – it’s too CyberPunk. I should have mirrorshades, blades beneath my nails and a sports bike like an oversized predator. Instead I have a mortgage, a child just started school and a very yowly cat currently sleeping here on the chair.

Where did 2009 go, anyway?

I’ve written a book, started a second, got engaged, walked my son to the school gates, made creative headway on behalf of my place of employment, found new friends and re-connected with old ones. I’ve been on two glorious holidays; I’ve said goodbye to my little Ayesha cat (she is much missed, though her sister seems to be thriving) and hello to a significantly drier liver.

Mostly, it’s been a year about discovery – what I can do, what I can’t. Discovering people like your fiction is one thing, posting a chapter on Google Pages every-so-often-when-you-have-the-time is all well and good… but there’s a paradigm shift that occurs when you make yourself face chapter plans, schedules, daily wordcounts. It becomes a completely different beast – no more indulgence, fucking focus dammit.

Not an easy thing when this house and quiet/order/routine are completely mutually exclusive. Being able to snatch-write – 40 minutes here, 50 minutes there, sometimes days apart – is a hard thing to master.

And an easy thing to lose.

Knowing you can finish a book is great… until you discover you can’t start the next one. I learned a lot from the sheer experience of writing the first… certainly enough to lay out critical path and chapter plan and all that stuff…

But then the partner was out of work – with all the fun that brings. And our son went to school. And I’m back in the office five days a week – commuting three hours to work four and a half. And one week became two became four – and that snap ability to jump into the fictional world, characters, speech-patterns, plotlines, for intense 40-minute bursts just got swamped by the background noise.

(And it’s astounding how much and how suddenly a child changes when they go to school).

By the time I finally got some quiet – in the second of the year’s beautiful log cabins – I faced the cold page and it faced me straight back. And sneered.

The worst bit about that is: when you’re surrounded by published/author friends, you can’t quit. They didn’t. If you even hint at ‘but I don’t have time’ you’ll get variations on a slap round the head. Best get on with it then. Right.

The year has closed with the second book finally and properly underway – nothing like the wordcount I wanted to have done as it’s been such a painful and (mostly) passionless grind, but I’ve broken the skin, the words are again in motion.

And now, the fiancé has departed, taking his quintessential Chaos with him – meaning I can establish those all-important mini-routines. I don’t really like writing in the evenings, but it’s a fuck of a lot easier when there’s just me (and a sleeping Cub) to worry about. And I have family and friends that will happily Cub-nap him at weekends, giving me that (allelujah-gold-dust) day to myself.

Uninterrupted.

Roll on, 2010. I may not manage the mirrorshades, but I’m not ready for a floral housecoat just yet J

Ommwriter

Thu, 31 Dec 2009 08:55:35 GMT

I'm not sure I'll ever use this - it's a bit too tranquil for me *grins*.

But it is REALLY pretty.

Free Mac download for the poets among you...

http://www.ommwriter.com

Time I Had Some Time Alone

Wed, 30 Dec 2009 18:36:53 GMT

The other half (guess I should get used to calling him 'The Fiance') has been out of work since the middle of August. With the exception of the ten or so days he spent building the Winter Wonderland in Hyde Park, he's been in my face and under my feet for four MONTHS.

Don't get me wrong, I love my family.

But team this with being back in the office five days (I'm home just in time to pick up my son from school at 3pm) and I've had no time to myself in FAR TOO LONG.

It plays merry fucking hell with both finances and wordcount - almost to the extent where I fear I've lost my grip on both. Not to mention my sanity.

This afternoon, I've had five hours pure, uninterrupted writing time.

At 3,000k down, I figure I've still got it.

Bloody good thing too!

PURGE!!

Mon, 28 Dec 2009 12:40:06 GMT

I have spent the morning purging my books - six BAGS (the big ego-beasties that supermarkets are so find of) are now sitting in the hallway waiting for me to work out how the fuck I get them as far as the British Heart Foundation on the High Street.

So many memories. If I stop to actually think about what I'm doing, it's pretty scary.

But this is a small house, already packed to the gunnels with an overload of stuff... and my son will insist on getting oodles of new toys for Christmas.

I know the memories are still there - it's only their triggers that will be missing - but rummaging through your own past is always a very odd thing to do.

Besides, the British Heart Foundation won't take my son, I've already asked.

Why We're Skipping New Year

Sun, 27 Dec 2009 14:17:15 GMT

And lo it has been decreed in the household of Stanfield-Ware...

...we're skipping New Year completely this year.

On Friday January 1st, Captain Chaos flies to Brisbane for the next leg of the tour of Le Grand Cirque - and I'm back to being Working (Writing) Single Mom for three months. He'll be back for a brief stint at the end of Jan, then the tour moves to the States - and off he'll go again.

Hence, we're not giving up our son and getting caned on New Year's Eve. Not this time!

We may have agreed to give Auld Lang Syne a miss, but I *have* to make resolutions this year - or I'm never going to be able to be commuting worker, single mom and struggling novelist - all at the same smegging time.

These have to come down to physical training in the house (as I can't really get to the gym) and to writing in the evenings (which I absolutely confess to not being very good at).

Oh, and then there's that pesky detox thing. Starting today (why wait?)

It's a good thing a like my independence

The Art of Tim Burton (Repost)

Thu, 03 Dec 2009 12:54:10 GMT

Somehow, Christmas is always associated with films by Tim Burton - maybe it's the 'snow' theme, or the annual resurgence of Jack Skellington - he's become as seasonal as looking forward to your stocking on Christmas morning.

And this year sees the release of 'The Art of Tim Burton', the ultimate insight, an astounding, definitive compilation of forty years of the master's artistry. Containing over 1,000 illustrations from his personal archives, it follows his passion for humanity’s oddities and misunderstood monsters through 434 pages of fascinating, beautifully showcased artwork - furnished with the thoughts, anecdotes and insights of his many friends and condifidantes.

Also available is a Deluxe Edition that comes with a hand-signed and numbered lithograph (1,000 in total). Each of these rare and collectible books come in a fabric-wrapped slipcase through which the dramatic, spiral cover will still be visible.

Ideal to ensuring you have no nightmares before Christmas!

I Don't Normally...

Mon, 30 Nov 2009 20:17:49 GMT

...get suckered in by this stuff.

This one snuck up on me, I swear. I was defenceless.

Rob Holdstock

Sun, 29 Nov 2009 17:22:33 GMT

SF Signal reports the death of a man whom I met (for the second time) only recently, a man who's gentleness and wicked sense of humour endeared us all to him within moments of his arrival in the FP office.

He didn't remember me from our first meeting - when he had been on a panel at EasterCon in 1990 - and, indeed, why the world should he?

But he did ask me if I'd read 'Mythago Wood' - and he scolded me, with a grin, when I sheepishly responded, 'I will, I promise'.

I guess I better.

Farewell, Rob Holdstock.

Freaked the Fuck Out

Thu, 26 Nov 2009 15:30:59 GMT

I'm being haunted by a dream I can't remember.

The images don't stay for long enough for me to even grasp them - but they trigger a huge dump of adrenaline and fear... whatever it is, it's very real and I can't access it for long enough to assure myself it's nothing.

This has been going on for about a week.

There's something in the back of my head that isn't me.

And I am freaked right the FUCK out!!

Five Authors; One Event (You Know How This Works!)

Tue, 17 Nov 2009 09:11:34 GMT

FORBIDDEN PLANET and Gollancz Publishing are delighted to be hosting an open-format, multi-author signing. Five authors, one event – at 6pm on Thursday November 26th, Forbidden Planet 179 Shaftesbury Avenue, London will be playing host to: -

• David Devereux
• Paul McAuley
• Justina Robson
• Adam Roberts
• Chris Wooding

To promote the release of Justina’s new book CHASING THE DRAGON, Forbidden Planet and Gollancz Publishing have gathered a host of science fiction and fantasy talent into one event – an event to bring writers and fans together and to promote interest in new and different kinds of fiction.

This is a free-form and open signing, bringing the authors out from behind their tables and giving their readers a chance to meet them and talk to them about their work. An array of fantastic books will be on hand to be picked up and signed – including works by every one of the writers present.

And, as usual with these events, there are likely to be more than a few surprise guests...

...and a subsequent visit to the pub!

I Am Never Letting My Son See This...

Thu, 22 Oct 2009 19:47:53 GMT

...the little bugger will start getting ideas!!

Awkward Much

Tue, 20 Oct 2009 09:24:07 GMT

You ever get one of those itchy feelings - when you know you've pissed someone off but have no idea how to even broach an apology?

Indeed - by apologising, you'll only let the individual know you know they're pissed off... and complicate the situation even further.

Bollocks.

The Write Fantastic

Mon, 19 Oct 2009 11:35:26 GMT

Sadly, I can't make this myself, but...

Get your mitts on Stan Nicholls’ newest novel Orcs Bad Blood 2: Army of Shadows, when Stan, Juliet E KcKenna, Chaz Brenchley and Kari Sperring sign at Forbidden Planet Bristol Megastore, Clifton Heights, Triangle West on Saturday 24th October from 1 – 2pm.

The Write Fantastic is an authors’ initiative to introduce fantasy to readers who unfamiliar with the genre, and to entice back those who have drifted away. Their combined work covers fantasy writing from orcs and dragons, swords and sorcery, right through to the to re-imagining of myth and history, and the magics of matter, mind and spirit. Contemporary fantasy is about far more than escape. Freed of the constraints and preconceptions of other fiction, it holds up a mirror to this world and time and engages the imagination like no other genre.

In Orcs Bad Blood 2, Stryke and the Wolverines are back with more frenetic action, nail-biting adventure and black humour – this time, stranded in a parallel world. To escape, they must ignite an uprising and reawaken the lost martial spirit of the world's indigenous orcs.

As well as Orcs, there will be other titles by Stan Nicholls, alongside novels by Juliet, Chaz and Kari. Come and meet The Write Fantastic – and talk to them about their work!

Fork

Thu, 15 Oct 2009 19:32:12 GMT

One day Alice came to a fork in the road and saw a Cheshire cat in a tree.

"Which road do I take?" she asked.

"Where do you want to go?" was his response.

"I don't know," Alice answered.

"Then," said the cat, "it doesn't matter."

Thank you, Lewis Carroll.

Overwhelmed

Mon, 12 Oct 2009 17:37:27 GMT

It's been a very peculiar weekend.

Those of you who follow me on twitter know that my little calico cat, Ayesha, was finally put out of her pain earlier today. From a little, bright-eyed bat-eared kitten that I brought home in a box, she's been the most gentle kind and loving creature - a ditsy blonde, full of affection, with a little voice that cried for love. She was an empath cat - it's never been possible to be near The Eesh and upset without her coming to you and mewing in distress, butting you to make both of you feel better. In her last days she was being eaten from the inside by cancer; in her last hours she was sat in the garden in the sun with her family stroking her gently.

Her bonkers Tortie sister, Lilith, is wandering the house bemused - and getting lots of love.

In the light of losing Ayesha, the strong positive feedback from my potential publisher has kind of got lost. I should doing a squeeee-wall-of-death at this point - but it's both surreal and too real, somehow and oddly distant. It's surreal because it's been so long that I can't quite get my head round it; too real because I have many writer friends and few starry-eyed illusions. One subplot needs a complete rewrite (and not the one I thought it would be - that'll teach me) and there are other freaky tweakies that were mentioned.

I have some ideas of my own about how I could improve and streamline the story, but I guess I have to wait for that whole 'second draft' thing.

Anyway, random mutterings about two books and optioning a third (it's early days and I am so green behind the fucking ears with this stuff I feel like ten kinds of frog) may well spin out to nothing, I don't know. I want to squeeee - but I almost don't dare.

Maybe the line between 'perspective' and 'pessimism' got lost under the weight of the little cat, finally and peacefully asleep in my lap. Right now, it's all a bit overwhelming and I may well have too many whiskey toddies this evening.

This has been very self-indulgent - sorry about that.

I'm sure the giant squeeeee will come in a bit :)

Just In Case You Missed it....

Wed, 07 Oct 2009 10:23:38 GMT

I'm pretty sure this one's gon' be big...

Dang!

Fri, 02 Oct 2009 13:19:35 GMT

I can post to my LJ via my iPhone.

Isn't technology marvellous?

Posted via LiveJournal.app.

When Authors Promote Their Own Signings...

Wed, 26 Aug 2009 15:22:03 GMT

I trust that the signing with Ubu Bubu creator Jamie Smart will not involve scrotal sacs being exposed on the shop floor.

Just saying...

My Son's Birthday Card

Tue, 25 Aug 2009 18:26:17 GMT

From @davestokes!

Nightwalk

Tue, 18 Aug 2009 17:56:22 GMT

The Seven Sisters, Birling Gap, Beachy Head.

Eighteen miles.

Ankle-breaking cliffs.

In the pitch dark.

A torch, a bottle of JD and a bar of Green & Black’s. My partner my company; my iPhone my lifeline.

There is no feeling like sitting on a chill, black clifftop – out of time, out of sight, out of reality – with nothing between you and the sky but a foot of scrub grass.

That, as they say, was fucking awesome.