Month: June 2013

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Author Post : Catherine Mann

How the Fox Pocket was Named

Once upon a time there was a woman called Adele who had many excellent friends and could summon the ferocity of a honey badger. Using her ingenuity she became leader of a den full of creative, and somewhat geeky, people and together they produced fine books. She wanted to create small anthologies of short stories that could be read quickly and easily carried in a pocket, but what to call them?

One of Adele’s friends was a woman called Catherine who was watching DVDs with her husband just after Christmas…

…actually this isn’t working. DVDs don’t quite fit folkloric feel I was going for. Plus writing about myself in third person feels distinctly weird.

So, my husband and I were watching the 1967 musical version of Doctor Dolittle, starring Rex Harrison. It is in many ways a strange film, for example the most romantic song is sung by a human to a seal, a married seal. I am not even kidding. There is an early scene in which a mother fox comes to Dr Dolittle to hide from the local hunt. She entrusts her cubs (actually played by puppies) to the doctor who tucks them into pockets sewn onto the front of his lab coat.

I was amused by the idea of pockets specifically designed for carrying foxes. I checked with a friend who’s a vet, and she confirmed that fox pockets were a thing. I decided to assume this was the truth and not her humouring me. It sounded like the kind of thing that would amuse Adele as well, so I text her to let her know that vets have pockets for foxes. Much merriment ensured.

In early February Adele said that she was planning some ‘quick pick’ anthologies of flash fiction, and she asked if anyone could think of a snappy title for them. That evening, while in the shower (which is often a good place for ideas), I remembered the fox pocket conversation we’d had in December. I half-jokingly suggested it to Adele and she decreed that it was happening.

And so it came to pass.

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Author Post : Rahne Sinclair

The Wolf in Fantasy by Rahne Sinclair

Regardless of where or what historical epoch a fantasy novel is set, there is a very specific subset of animals usually contained therein, and there is a high chance that the wolf is among them. There is something about the wolf that makes it an enduring part of our myths and legends.  Whether anthropomorphised to a loyal or magical being, or demonised to an evil adversary, this creature has played both hero and the villain in our stories.

Our early hunter-gatherer ancestors invited the wolf to his fireside and utilised its natural abilities to aid in their own survival. Overtime, further domestication and selective breeding turned the wolf into the dog we know today.

Man-kind then turned on its four-legged friend’s wild cousin. Medieval kings were known to offer great reward or pardons for a sack of wolf pelts. They were derided and hunted to extinction in many countries. The last wolf in the UK was killed in 1743. Conversely, many lords and knights would take the wolf as their emblem, signifying their strength in battle, their ferocity, and a warning to their enemies they were not to be tangled with.

As stories and fairy tales began to emerge, this hatred was reflected in the stories told and for many centuries, the traditional role of a wolf in fiction was as the enemy. Little Red Riding Hood was a story that used the wolf to represent the dangers of the forest, as opposed to the safety of the village, but by no means was it the only story to feature a big bad wolf. In J.R.R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings, white wolves terrorise The Shire, and the Orcs hang out with Wargs. Maugrim of C S Lewis’ The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe is a shining example of how wolves were thought of as sly, cunning, and ferocious.

As mankind re-learns the truth about this contender for our apex predator status, our perception of wolves has changed drastically in the past few decades, undergoing something of a 360 degree reversal to portray the wolf in a more positive light. Different aspects of the wolf’s personality are focused on. Their pack mentality epitomises some of the aspects of ‘family’. They share child care duties, and are fiercely protective of their young. In books like Jungle Book by Rudyard Kipling, the orphan Mowgli is raised by a she-wolf. In G.R.R. Martin’s Songs of Ice and Fire, the dire-wolves are given as pets to the Stark family’s children, who become companion and protector. Even YA and children’s stories have reflected this new admiration for the wolf. Michelle Paver’s Chronicles of Ancient Darkness show the wolf as a constant companion to the young hero as he battles evil during the Stone Age.

The newest trope for wolves has to be as the ‘love interest’. More accurately, this pertains to werewolves, rather than wolves, and is greatly at odds with its origins in Greek mythology and horror. With TV shows like Buffy and Being Human, the werewolves are still violent and bestial, but their human counterpart is a figure we are meant to empathise with. In Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaba, Remus Lupin is a greatly admired teacher who has to endure his curse. This is countered by Fenrir Greyback in The Half Blood Prince, who revels in his wolf nature. In the case of books like The Southern Vampire Chronicles (True Blood), plus countless erotic fictions, the human form of the werewolf represents the ultimate alpha male character. A character whose is strong, confident, protective and assertive, yet at times gentle and loving.

Similar to its real-world inspiration, the wolf in fantasy is still evolving. Like the best type of hero, the wolf has had a shady past, but is now a much reformed character.

Odin_and_Fenrir

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Something Awesome has Happened!

While I am a publisher of books, have been and to a very small degree still am a reviewer and even occasionally get to be a judge of books, what I am first, foremost and always is a reader.

As a reader I too have been one of the people who has grumbled about samey or misguiding cover art, the synopsis that bears little reflection to the text and the difficulty of finding new authors to enjoy when I’ve thoroughly plundered the back catalogue of favourites.

Well something awesome has happened. John Rickards who is the crime writer John Rickards and also the crime writer Sean Cregan and a very lovely and clever chap, followed up the general grumblings of the populous and a very intelligent and sensible article by Suw and created something marvellous.  For it to work all you writerly types need to get involved in the process just a little bit and all you readerly folk can start your journey of discovery.

So without further ado I shall pass you over to John who does a much better introduction to ‘No Names, No Jackets.‘ a new adventure in book browsing.

 

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‘Girl at the End of the World’ a call for submissions

Ok foxy folk we have a new anthology call for Christmas Release.

‘Girl at the End of the World’.

What we want: pre, during, post and not remotely related to apocalyptic stories, in the SF, Fantasy, Horror and Crime genres. Clearly female lead characters who pack a punch. Roughly speaking 5,000-10,000 words per story.

It’ll be £10 token payment, a copy of the finished book and if it clears it’s costs profit share for the first two years sales.

The closing date is 31st August 2013 so we can get it sorted in time for a Christmas release, because nothing says Merry Christmas like the end of the world.

These details will be added to the submissions page, where you can already find details of house style etc for your story submission.

 

If you’ve submitted in the last week or so to any of our other books I will be updating the tracker soon, sorry for the delay.

Also we are still accepting author posts for the blog.

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Author Post : Margret Helgadottir

Why do I write in English?

“You should sign up for this writing course in Norwegian now that you’ve started writing,” a friend told me a while ago. She’s not the first to assume that I can easily switch between writing fiction in English and Norwegian. Many think my main desire is to write in Norwegian, for Norwegians, and that I write in English for obscure reasons – a confirmation of my strangeness perhaps. And each time, I try to explain: That I want to become better in my English writing, so I need to practise as much as I can – and since I have so little time to write, I want to spend it on this. That I don’t think in Norwegian, then translate it—I think in English when I write – it’s my writer voice. My writing would be totally different in Norwegian. I’m not sure they understand. Then again, I’m not sure I understand it myself.

It’s not like it’s a bed of roses. My English may be good, but my Norwegian is light years better. I struggle with all the things a person combats when dealing with foreign languages: the search for words, synonyms, grammar. You know the feeling when someone tells a joke and everybody laughs, but not you, because you didn’t understand the twist in the joke? Yes, that feeling. Not to mention how difficult it is to write a natural dialogue, maybe even using slang, or to instantly see the difference between US English and UK English.

But you know what? I´ve struggled many years with starting to write. And I do wonder if choice of language was the key all the time. When I write in Norwegian, I can be dramatic in my choice of words and how I express feelings, almost as if the harsh Nordic landscape and climate lurk between the lines. English flows differently. Its lexicon is so vast. I feel my writing becomes a smooth river, rather than a bumpy road. But I wonder if something gets lost in that river. Maybe I write in English because I can be distant. Could it be that my Norwegian voice still feels too up close and personal? Will I need to tackle this at some point?

Then there are the practical reasons, of course. The Norwegian publishing market for new writers is limited. There is little room for writing speculative, weird and dark fiction. Not much room for experimenting as a new writer either, unless you have inside contacts. And Norwegian works are unlikely to get translated into English, so the potential amount of readers is low. And you’ll miss the opportunity to build an international network with other writers, publishers and readers.

I’m so happy and humbled that people like my stories. Thank you so much to the editors who have wanted to publish this fledgling writer, and thanks so much to the kind and patient people who have read my drafts and helped me achieve my goal.

http://margrethelgadottir.wordpress.com

 

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Author Post : Jenny Barber

When Temples Attack!

You’ve got to feel sorry for ancient temples.  There they are just minding their own business when along comes some plucky archaeologist and the next thing you know it’s all explosions and ancient curses and thousands of years of carefully preserved architecture reduced to rubble.

Not that the temples don’t try to defend themselves – temple security systems are renowned the world over for their durability and deviousness, and only in an ancient temple will you find a fully functioning set of traps and tripwires that have somehow managed to survive mundane things like natural wear or interference from the beasties that have taken up residence in the nooks and crannies.

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And yet, while the temples and all their fixtures can last thousands of years relatively intact, the second your plucky archaeologist steps in, the countdown starts for the inevitable mass destruction.  Whether the adventurers are bumbling into something pointy, picking up the one piece of shiny treasure that activates the self-destruct devices, or engaging in an all out guns-a-blazing-here-have-a-grenade war with rival tomb raiders; human visitors are death to temples.

The temples know this.  They have always known this.  They’ve been fighting the human menace for centuries.

Sometimes hiding is the best survival strategy.  History shows a number of ancient sites buried due to alleged natural disaster –  earthquakes are said to be responsible for submerging sites off the coast of Alexandria,  volcanic eruption and its partner-in-crime tsunami are the prime suspects for taking out innocents such as fabled Atlantis, sandstorms covered some of Egypt’s most wanted, freaky mutant tree things have crept over to protect temples in a multitude of sites from South America to Cambodia, and you really don’t want to know what’s been buried under all that snow and ice at the poles.

However, no temple can stay hidden forever and many temples have sought the aid of alien allies to assist in their protection.  Extraterrestrial defence contractors have an approach that exceeds any other in both brutality and complexity and have a particular gift for camouflaging the temples under their protection.  But if found and entered, temples can be assured that they will receive the best security available with lethal force applied instantly against invaders and additional clean up provided by alien commando forces who are summoned automatically should the perimeter be breached.

But what of the poor temples left out in the open? How can they protect themselves against the hoards that are inexorably drawn to them?  Given the evidence in the noted documentary Stonehenge Apocalypse the answer would seem to be electromagnetic energy.  Well, electromagnetic energy and a coalition of A-list temples who can transform into giant volcanoes and spew temple-lava across the globe to take out every human on the planet in one massive final strike.

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So, all told, it’s probably not the best idea to be taking liberties with your local ancient temple as the short term thrill of picking over the shinies is far outweighed by what it’ll do to you once it decides to fight back…

Picture Credits:

1 – Indiana Jones from darkroomsf.com

2 – Stonehenge Apocalypse from fanpop.com

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Author Post : Chloe Yates

I’m a bit of a navel gazer. Always trying to work myself out like I’m a mystery when what I often turn out to be is a bit of a Gumby (‘my brain hurts’). In that spirit, I’m going to talk a bit about me. Me. Me. Me.

         I remember the moment very well. In the grand scheme of things it wasn’t much, but in the grand scheme of Me it was everything. I was sitting on a bench in St Ives with the mister, looking at the sea and sharing a bag of chips, when I decided to check my email. A sudden sharp inhale had a chip lodging in my windpipe like that ubiquitous bit of paper that buggers my hoover every Saturday. Mr Y patted me on the back – rather harder than he should have, I’d say – the chip popped out and I let out a little wail. One of those mewling sounds that confuses anyone who hears it – is she still choking? Is she laughing? Crying? Is she a nutjob? What is that man doing?

            I’d won. I’d won a competition.

It was a small competition – no, literally, I had to write a story on the back of a postcard – but it was huge in my mind. Someone liked what I’d written. What’s more, it was someone whose opinion I respected (I still do, despite her faith in me). I’ve been scribbling since I was about six years old. I’ve sent off several things over the years and every time have received positive encouragement but never been accepted or been persistent (you’ll see why). Suddenly, there I was, late 30s, having someone really tipping their hat at my work. All ten sentences or whatever it was.  You can read it here: http://katewombat.blogspot.ch/2012/05/writer-wednesday-post-card-fiction.html  (all hail the Prof)

I’ll never forget that feeling. It might seem daft, dafter to writers who’ve been in the trenches for years, but I’d spent so long entirely (ENTIRELY) doubting myself, scribbling my stories and poems then stifling them before they ever got to see the light of day, that this was like touch paper to my barely-there self-belief. Not only had I taken myself seriously, I had been taken seriously. That shit is better than gold (particularly as I’m not at all fond of jewellery). It carried me along on a little wave of positivity and paid off again later in the year (affirmation is like crack, but less harsh on the teeth). Boosted by my mighty victory, I rubbed my brass monkeys again and submitted a story for Fox Spirit’s International Talk Like a Pirate Day competition. I was one of the winner’s. I was knocked out (not literally) and the same wail thing happened again (I’ve got a feeling that’s sticking around, alas).

Now, with a couple more accepted stories under my belt, I’m teetering on the edge of taking this business and myself seriously. I’m not talking about being all ‘yes, well I am a Writer, and I shall henceforth wear only lederhosen while I work and eat only brandy snaps on a Monday, and under no circumstances am I to be interrupted when the Muse doth descend’. What I’m talking about is battling that little voice in your head that whispers, ‘they don’t really like you, you’re a fraud. You should know better than to put yourself out there, who are you anyway? I’ve never heard of you, I wouldn’t want to …’ and so on ad infinitum. (At this point, you either know what I’m talking about or you think I’m a few rubberbands short of a flicking contest. I understand.)

I’m certainly told to take myself seriously – you can’t get away with being a ballbag while the Captain (our feral leader) is on your tail – but whenever I read a story back I hate it. Who wants to read that rubbish? It doesn’t make any sense! It’s yours! What is wrong with these people? I feel like a giant nob when anyone asks me what I do. I hear myself say, ‘I’m a writer’, and then I hear a million voices in my head cackling at my audacity … but then it is audacious. And why the fuck not, because you know what? I can write. Whole sentences can turn into whole paragraphs can turn into short stories on good days. I don’t expect everyone to like what I produce, of course I don’t, but people have told me they’ve enjoyed my work and I need to put better store in that. Have I just taken a step towards taking myself seriously? Knowing deep down that I can do it and accepting that other people genuinely believe in me? Maybe admitting it to the world means I have to take myself seriously. To do otherwise might make me into a bigger gump than you already think I am.

Well, why not then? There are always going to be people who say ‘you’re not a writer until XYZ’ (and I understand anyone who says, “a couple of short stories, love, calm down”), but who cares about the naysayers while there are others who say ‘Yay! Write another one’ and while I think ‘I have another one to write’? More of that affirmation crack –internal and external please, Matron. That little voice will always be there, I suspect; it’s part of the fuel I need to keep pushing myself on (I spite thee!), but it’s time to dial that motherlicker down.

Cut the horseshit.

Let’s roll.

Seriously, I’ve got stories to tell.

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Futura & Edge

Saturday saw the first Futura event at the Lighthouse in Wolverhampton. The venue is housed within the old Chubb lock factory and is gorgeous. It’s a triangular shaped building with a bright, glass roofed courtyard. I should have taken pictures, but umm, didn’t.

As it’s both Futura’s first year and Alex Davis’ first West Mids event it was quiet, but the audience was more than happy to join in discussions leading to panels that were pretty interactive. I was invited as a speaker. Some of you may have seen me on panels in the past but always in the role of moderator, it was lovely to be an actual proper panelist for the first time. I had great fun chatting with my fellow panelists and other attendees about whether SF is main stream, the life of a small publisher and where SF ends as a genre.

The event was well run, although next year the venue might want to invest in extra staff at the coffee shop to keep things moving more briskly.

I hope I will be invited back next year as i’d certainly love to do it again, if not i’ll pop it in my diary for a visit anyway.

Next up for us is Edge.Lit in Derby, where Fox Spirit will be launching Noir Carnival with wine, cake and badges. We will have the editor and a couple of Noir Carnival writers in attendance as well as many of the other skulk members who will be happy to sign things. I will have a few copies of the various books with me and in partnership with CyberWitch we will be making the ebooks available on site, on the day too. The launch will take place at lunch time and there will be wine and cake provided so please drop in and see us!

 

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Author Post : Joan De La Haye

Joan has been running a series of interviews over on her blog.

13 Questions with Alec McQuay

1. What drives you to write?

Getting everything out of my head! I dwell on things so I need an outlet, and writing gives me the freedom to do literally anything with that.

2. What attracted you to writing horror?

I was looking for a longer project to move on from short stories and flash fiction and the news and the internet were banging on about opt-out organ donation, the right to die debate and this war and that war, all while charities had endless pictures of doe-eyed, starving children in every ad break. I guess rather than an attraction to horror as such it was a reaction to what I was seeing at the time.

Read on at Joan’s blog

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Author Post: Christian D’Amico

Christian’s Site is here

Full-time.

It’s a word that any author would love to be able to prefix to their title, but unfortunately it’s a difficult thing to achieve. Or at least, in my experience it is, both in terms of talking to other authors and also as a aspiring/new author.

However, not being a full-time author can also bring in unexpected benefits that feed into the worlds we surround ourselves in when writing.

I’m a personal trainer. I help people get fit by educating them on proper nutrition, training and supplementation. However, coupled with this, I’m also a street dancer, both as part of a dance school, and as a crew member.

“How does this feed back into your writing?” you may ask. Good question!

As a personal trainer, I need to have an intricate knowledge of how the body works, right to chemical compounds and microscopic fibres that make up what we all are. This biological science gives me a great edge when working on my fiction, as I have the capacity to know how a body would be affected, say, if you caused an injury on someone’s thigh. How the body reacts; how the pain gets managed; how serious the injury can be. All of this and more is pulled directly from my experience in my full-time job and helps me to get my writing spot on when it comes to combat, whether that’s a bullet shattering a skull or a knife cutting flesh. Gruesome, perhaps, but all the more realistic for it, and hopefully more engaging with the reader: you.

And street dance? Well, that’s another matter.

The movements of street dance are aggressive, and very often can be changed very quickly into martial arts moves and strikes. Because of the nature of street dance and how it interprets things around itself, this means that power, speed and impact all play an important role in dance, and as that is drawn from things such as martial arts and other physical activity, can be quickly reversed to learn something new.

This means that again, I can benefit in my writing from this through the use of street dance to emulate close combat manoeuvres. Need a powerful sweeping kick? Lay out a clockwise spin with leg extended. Close-in punches to the chest and face? You want tutting (a technical form of hand movements in dance). The list goes on, but you get the idea.

So don’t look at not being a full-time author as not having “made it”. Personally, whilst I used to aspire to do this full-time, I have learnt now that I have a much bigger benefit from my life experiences and how it helps my writing, than if I had only done writing as a profession.

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