Autumn Horror In The East 2

Following the recent World Fantasy Convention where 1500 attendees descended on Brighton for their annual literary and social fix we attended a scaled down version of the same thing at Lowestoft this weekend, the second year of Autumn Horror In The East. Not dissimilar to WFC in many ways, this also saw the general public outnumbered by the writers and whilst it would be unfair to extend the comparison too far it was interesting to have sold more items at the quieter event than we did at the larger event (although the fact we were manning a table here of mixed goods including Sophie's home made jewellery made a difference as well).

Lowestoft is a perfect location for a horror convention as even in the best of lights it seems apocalyptic, both architecturally and in the form of the general populace, but the location of the venue was a little out of the way to attract the casual attendee (even a free event has to be obvious). Even so, the authors who were there (Adam Millard, Darren Barker, Adam Baker, Joseph Freeman, Nat Robinson, Paul S Huggins and David Moody amongst others) were ready to entertain the attendees on the various panels, and in the afternoon a special screening of the 1992 BBC programme Ghostwatch was scheduled with a Q&A afterwards with Ghostwatch 'biographer' Rich Hawkins and the director, Lesley Manning - quite a coup!

Like all of these events, it's just good to mix with people who are on the same wavelength as yourself even if I am at the lesser end of the horror spectrum. I had an interesting chat with Joseph Freeman in particular about the changes in publishing over the years (we reminisced about Nasty Piece of Work magazine in particular), and David Moody as usual had several insights in how he works the industry rather than the other way around. The panel I was on with Adam, Joseph and David discussed this in detail.

The Ghostwatch screening was good to watch. I remember it vaguely when it was broadcast and seeing it 21 years later some of the cracks are evident, some of the acting a little too obvious, but the overall effect is one inspired piece of television with the repeated setting up and demolishing of viewer expectations a fascinating examination of how we interact with television, and the breaking of the bond of trust between viewer and presenter. My favourite moment in the programme is where we realise the 'live' camera view of the haunted house is actually a moment from earlier and therefore there is no live feed into the house and what might actually be happening is unknown. Unfortunately we had to leave part way through the Q&A session due to childcare issues, but on the face of it - despite the low attendance - the event was a success for those who were there, and hopefully the organisers can build on this at a proposed new venue next year.

I, for one, will be returning.

World Fantasy Convention 2013

Last weekend saw the annual World Fantasy Convention arrive in Brighton, only the third time in its history that it's been held outside of North America. I usually spend this time of year at FantasyCon (the British Fantasy Society's convention), but as it was shelved this year due to World Fantasy it was a no brainer to attend. It's always encouraging to spend a weekend with like-minded literary folks - many of whom are great friends and acquaintances - and to re-charge and reaffirm the creative impulse.

Whilst the convention began on the Thursday afternoon we weren't due to arrive until the following day, however our convention did begin on Thursday in some respects. I had the day off work so we were able to drop my eldest child at one set of grandparents that morning and then handed off our youngest at a halfway point at Peterborough with her grandmother who lives in Leicester by lunchtime. Returning to Norwich we had time to do a little packing before heading out to watch F W Murnau's "Nosferatu" at Cinema City. It was great to see it on the big screen - despite the irritating and inappropriate giggling of some audience members - and whilst the score wasn't as good as a version I saw on Channel 4 many moons ago, it was interesting to hear a different musical background. Because it was Hallowe'en and we were feeling particularly mischievous, we dusted off the penguin mask I use to promote Ponthe Oldenguine, and Sophie wore it into the cinema whilst I donned it on the way out. No one batted an eyelid.

Onto the convention proper. The drive to Brighton was uneventful and we arrived around 11:30 at our hotel (The Black Lion, at a third of the convention hotel price!) just north of Brighton at Patcham. A quick bus ride and a blustery walk along the seafront saw us reach the Hilton Metropole where the convention was being held. The estimated audience over the weekend was 1500 and it was indeed packed. We signed in, collected our free books, and headed off to my spiritual home in the dealer's room where we met up with Roy Gray of TTA Press and had a little bit of table space to sell Fur-Lined Ghettos. We wandered around the room, chatting to David Rix of Eibonvale, Quentin S Crisp of Chomu, Ian Whates at NewCon Press, Steve Upham of Screaming Dreams (who promised that my collaborative story collection, "Slow Motion Wars", written with Allen Ashley should be out before the end of the year), and Michael Kelly from Shadows & Tall Trees who I didn't spend as much time with as I would have liked.

There wasn't much on the programme that I actually wanted to attend, but there were people I wanted to make sure I didn't miss. To guarantee I met up with Kaaron Warren we headed to her reading where she read her story "That Girl". Not only was the reading excellent, but she handed out Koala bars to sweeten us. I originally published Kaaron in The Alsiso Project back in 2004, but this was the first time we had ever met. After the reading we found the 'secret bar' and had a drink with her along with Mihai Adascalitei from Romania, chatting like we were old friends. It got the convention off to a relaxed and friendly start.

I think from there we headed back to the dealer's room, talking briefly with Mark West, Stuart Young, Neil Williamson, Terry Grimwood, Gary Couzens, Allen Ashley and Sarah Doyle, and no doubt many others. Getting hungry by this stage and wary of forecast rain, Sophie and I headed out on our own and found a Wetherspoons to scoff in before returning to the convention and wandering around the mass-signing event. It always seems like there are conventions within conventions at these events, and the number of fans seeking autographs felt much different from my personal convention experience. Nevertheless, I ended up signing a few convention programmes myself, and we also managed to catch up with Ray Cluley and his partner Victoria Leslie (who writes as V H Leslie) for a chat. One of my favourite convention moments was Victoria's surprise at my mention of an age-gap between Sophie and myself (inadvertently either flattering me or insulting Sophie) and her further surprise that the gap is 21 years. My attic portrait must be worth it.

We concluded Friday flitting from one room to another, talking to Joseph D'Lacey and Charles Rudkin, taking in the two bars and the free drink at the Gollancz party, but by 11:30 Sophie was dead on her feet and during a conversation with John Travis and Simon Clark she actually fell asleep standing up. We decided to make the most of tomorrow by getting an early night and took a short taxi ride home.

Saturday morning we decided to wander around Brighton before heading to the convention aware that if we didn't make time for the town we'd never see it. We wandered about The Lanes, and the much better Laines areas, before returning to the convention hotel before 12. Back in the dealer's room we finally caught up with Doug Thompson and Nina Allan and had a long chat about good things, not surprising as they are amongst our favourite people and writers. I also exchanged a few words with K J Bishop and picked up her new collection, "That Book Your Mad Ancestor Wrote". Sophie also bought a couple of titles from the Chomu Press table. We then headed to the signing alley where I picked up Steve Volk's "Whitstable" that I've been wanting to buy for some time, and chatting to Simon Marshall-Jones of Spectral Press. It was now late afternoon and we were starting to get tired again, so we sat in the dealer's room for a bit whilst we wondered where to eat. Doug was trying to arrange first a Texan then a Greek restaurant by leaving the hotel, talking to threstaurantnt, and then returning to say it was full. Sophie suggested it might be easier using the internet, and within a few moments a posse of us were straining into the wind along the seafront and into The China Garden where we moved from one table to another as our numbers increased. Our final group included Sophie and myself, Doug Thompson, Quentin S Crisp, Jet McDonald, Anna Tambour, John Travis, David Rix, Brendan Connell, Terry Grimwood and two others whose names I'm not sure about. The food was ok, but it wasn't long before we were battling the elements again and were just in time for the poetry readings hosted by Allen Ashley.

We'd neglected to get ourselves a two-poem spot, but we were amongst the reserve list and Sophie was fair terrified when her name was called but I think she did pretty well with it. I also read one of our collaborative pieces. Overall, it was a great event which Allen ended with a flourish. From there it was into the main bar where we were lucky enough to find somewhere to sit. From 10 until 2:30 we chatted with Doug, Allen, and Sarah Doyle. Doug had an idea that everyone could be distilled into one word. His word for me was 'workman-like', but on reflection - and no doubt he will disagree with this - I've refined it to 'dedicated'.

Sunday morning we awoke relatively refreshed and were back in the Con hotel just after ten and a rather brisk walk along the seafront. Back in the dealer's room we mingled there until it was packed away at midday (we had sold a good amount of Fur-Lined Ghettos, including the last copy of issue one which is now out of print). Nipping out for some lunch we returned to the bar and chatted with Allen, Terry Grimwood, and David Rix until the awards ceremony began at 3pm. From the public gallery which overlooked the event we had a great view of those who had banqueted beneath. Without going into too much detail we were delighted that Ray Cluley won the British Fantasy Society award for his story, "Shark! Shark!", were moved by Graham Joyce's acceptance speech for the BFS's Best Fantasy Novel, "Some Kind Of Fairytale", and very much pleased by Joel Lane winning Best Collection in the World Fantasy awards. John Probert's humorous acceptance of the novella award and Jonathan Oliver's fantastic "fuck me sideways" comment whilst accepting the best anthology award all added spice to the event. In fact, all the awards seemed thoughtfully given (apart from the appalling Cabin In The Wood's award for best screenplay).

We milled about in the dead dog party for a little while, congratulating the winners (especially Ray, Graham, Jonathan Oliver and Adam Nevill), and managing brief chats with Lynda E Rucker and Lavie Tidhar before finally leaving the convention and waiting for a final taxi. We weren't leaving Brighton until the Monday morning, but our convention was now over. We returned buzzing with ideas - some will no doubt become evident - having enjoyed a great convention whilst not really participating in the programming. As I said, everyone's convention is slightly different from everyone else's, but ours was definitely worthwhile. As Graham said, it is family. Family which we should get to see more often.

(apologies for giving up on author links halfway through this blog. I ran out of time and inclination. Apologies also to anyone we chatted to and who I've missed! All photographs are by Sophie)

Some Novel Advice

I've always found novel writing to be a burden, I'm a short story guy at heart. I've got to the stage of my 'career' when I can write the first draft of a short story in a few hours in one sitting, and usually editing is just a couple of re-reads with a few words changed here and there. Only occasionally does anything have to be extensively re-written or altered. But novels are different beasts - they need time to be written and they devour that time. I've posted before about my completed novels - and at that point only one, "Moon Beaver", had been published - but I'm happy to report that I recently signed a deal for two crime novels through Telos Moonrise, the first of which should appear early in 2014. And I'm almost halfway through a third crime novel, "People I Know Are Dead", which is turning out pretty well I think.

So given this flush of recent success I thought I'd share some tips on how I wrote my novels in case any of this luck will rub off on the reader of this blog. Good karma, and all of that jazz. It might also be timely for those considering starting a novel for NaNoWriMo.

1. Have a title. It's essential for me - whether writing a short story or novel - to have a title before I begin otherwise I can't think about the work at all. A title is the coat-hanger to hang your story on.

2. Don't write every day. This flies in the face of popular opinion, but just as you would have a rest day from a day job so you need a rest day or two from the novel. That distance helps it to breathe, but even so you should...

3. Think about it constantly. I was reviewing my day's writing whilst washing-up a few evenings ago, and just tugging on those threads made me realise the novel knew how it ended even before I did. If I hadn't been thinking about it, I might not have realised it. Think about it as often as you think about your life because whilst you're writing it is your life.

4. Don't make excuses. As I said, I'm a short story guy, if the time is right I can have a completed story within a couple of hours. Two hours is easy to find. Several months to write a novel is a heck of a lot of time to create, especially if - like me - you're the father to a 17 month old and a 14 year old, you work 6 days a week, you like to eat and sleep occasionally, and you sometimes freelance outside of your normal day job in the evenings. I could easily find excuses not to write, but I don't. And - as it follows - I have written.

5. Write at work. If you can. I appreciate not all jobs are conducive to this advice - although there will always be lunch breaks - however if you can write at work then you're being paid to write. Kill two birds with one stone. At work I've written three and a half novels and three novellas. Two of those novels are my forthcoming crime books and two of the novellas have already been published. Don't jeopardise your job, but if you can write at work do it. This also means you don't have to write when you get home and just need to flop out.

6. Plot only the basics. I know some writers who write such a detailed synopsis of their novel that they might as well write the novel itself. That doesn't work for me, and for those of you who also struggle with that concept I suggest you don't tie yourself to it. I begin a novel by putting the title, and then a handful - and I mean no more than 3 or 4 - ideas underneath it. I then start writing. As I write, as and when other stuff pops into my head I add it to the notes under the novel. That way the notes are in the same file. I delete them as they get used. I never have more than ten notes running at any one time. A novel is an organic beast, not a scientific experiment. Treat it as such.

7. Don't ignore your muse. Sometimes stuff wants to pop into the novel that you never considered even in your wildest dreams. Put it in there. You don't know it yet, but your subconscious is aware of the relevance. Run with it. Your wildest dreams will become your reality.

8. Write the novel for yourself. It's important to have the market in mind, but don't write for the market. If you do you'll have a stilted novel with no life in it. Write it for yourself. If you can't enjoy it then no one will (although that doesn't mean if you love it everyone will, you - at least - must love your novel or it will show).

9. Ignore this advice. Seriously. Well, kind of. If you need advice on writing a novel then you're not ready to write the novel. The novel should birth by tearing itself out of your chest with superhuman force leaping into a sports car and driving dangerously along mountain road s-bends. If you need advice on it then you're not ready for it. You'll develop your own natural style that doesn't need to mimic others.

10. Don't ignore this advice. Might seem contrary but re-read my suggestions and see how they work for you. Take something from it, but don't use it as template. Just be aware of this advice. Find your own way.

11. Break the rules. I mean, who would have 11 bullet-points? That should be ten, or lucky seven, or at least an even number. Right? Nope. Don't be straight-jacketed by anyone or anything that's gone before. Fly with it.

Feel free to share if you enjoyed this. Then get writing!

The Malayan Tapir

As regular followers of this blog are aware I have a certain fondness for animals of the long-snouted variety. Who wouldn't? I've tried to seek out some of the more extreme examples for previous posts, but those are becoming thin on the ground so I'm falling back onto one of my favourites, the Malayan tapir.

I used to have one of these as a toy animal back in my youth and I prefer the black and white markings to those of the other three varieties of tapir. There's something more honest, more other-worldly, about it somehow. See what I mean:

There's some interesting stuff on wikipedia about how the long snout has been accommodated: They have a large sagittal crest, a bone running along the middle of the skull that is necessary for muscle attachment. They also have unusually positioned orbits, an unusually shaped cranium with the frontal bones elevated, and a retracted nasal incision. All of these modifications to the normal mammal skull are, of course, to make room for the proboscis. This proboscis caused retraction of bones and cartilage in the face during the evolution of the tapir, and even caused the loss of some cartilages, facial muscles, and the bony wall of the nasal chamber. That seems quite impressive to me.

The facial structure is even more impressive when viewed face on, although it does lose the elongated look, of course.

Perhaps the above photo is a little unkind, because they are a quite beautiful animal. Young tapirs of all ages have brown hair with white stripes and spots, but it's the monochrome adults which I prefer. And regardless of their overall cuteness, the predominant reason for including them on this blog is obviously the desirability of the elongated proboscis. I mean, just look at the length of that snout!

(Tapirs can be hired out as double-barrelled shotguns)

Editors Have Feelings Too

My blog today is brought to you by my partner and Fur-Lined Ghettos editor, Sophie:

I've been editing Fur-Lined Ghettos for two years now and have never received a vile email. Until today.

As a writer, I know how hard a rejection can hit. You put your heart into your writing, pluck up the courage to send your work out, wait months to hear back, only to get the standard 'thanks, but it's not for us' email. It hurts.

But, I also know it's subjective. One editor's opinion doesn't make your writing any less valid. Of course you shout profanities, though I have never, and will never, send an email out of anger.

It is neither polite nor professional.

As with many zines, Fur-Lined Ghettos is a labour of love. When it comes down to it we don't have the money to publish it, the time to read submissions, or to typeset it. But we struggle in the rare spare moments we do get because, for us, it's important to put out a print zine featuring writing we enjoy. Writing we know already has a limited platform.

So when I get a simple yet harsh 'fuck you' after I've politely rejected someone it hurts, a lot. I cried.

It's a shame that people are capable of being so heartless, and so thoughtless, when we're in the same boat. We're all artists trying to positively change the world. There is no place for hatred.

But thanks, I'll get a poem out of it.

punkPunk! update

As many of you might know I am editing an anthology of punk-inspired fiction titled "punkPunk!" to be published by DogHorn Publishing next year. The submission period opened on 1st July and runs through to 31st December 2013 so we are approximately half-way through the process. In that time I've had several submissions of interest, some way off the mark, and whilst I'm making no definite confirmed acceptances until nearer the closing date there are several pieces which I'm strongly considering for the anthology.

Whereas I felt the original guidelines were clear I've had a few people seeking clarification, so I'm going to try and pin down what I'm after in this post. It might also be worth you reading a previous blog post I made about The True Meaning Of Punk last year.

I'm looking for stories - in any genre - which capture the essence of punk. Not simply what it meant to be punk in the summer of 1976 when for those of us of a certain age the world seemed to tear itself open and roll at our feet, but also what it continues to mean to be punk. For me, punk embraced freedom, a DIY-ethic which meant anything was possible and it didn't have to look/sound good so long as it was done, and also - personally - was tied in with puberty and an understanding of the world which hitherto had been veiled. Stories don't have to reference particular bands or songs, or even directly reference punk itself, but they should carry forwards that sense of freedom and possibility, of kicking against the pricks, and the joie de vivre of anti-establishmentism.

I'm also not necessarily looking for pro-punk songs. Lost and broken dreams are just as integral as transitory success. What I'm trying to avoid are too many pieces about bands which didn't exist trying for a shot of stardom and falling short. I've had a few of these - and no doubt some will make it into the book - but the anthology needs to be more multi-dimensionary and I am genuinely open to anything. And I'm not after stereotypical punk figures with coloured hair and safety pins through their noses - if you have such a character make them authentic, not filtered through the way punk has subsequently come to be portrayed via the glamour of history.

In some sense: if you have to ask what a 'punk' story is then you won't be able to write it. A punk story should come from the heart, be infused with passion. And to further confirm: I'm not restricted to punk in it's pivotal years - the above guidelines are clear that later movements which sprang from punk will also be of interest to me. It's often said that everyone has a novel inside them which is open to debate, but I firmly believe that every punk has a punk story inside them. Let yours out.

Finally, it's best just to get writing with fire in your belly and punk in your heart. Ultimately I won't know what I want until it read it. Make me want it.

What's Inside A Ghetto?

Regular readers of this blog will be aware that I co-edit the irrealist/surrealist/gritty/feral poetry prose magazine, Fur-Lined Ghettos. Of course, we're constantly reading submissions for the magazine and also attempting to flog it, and one of the questions we constantly get asked is what type of work do we publish.

We came up with this: "We enjoy the surreal, the absurd, the nonsensical, the complicated, the simple, the truth, the lies, the complexity of words, the ecstasy of genius, the delightful power we find in the spaces between and dancing at the discothèque. Poetry. Prose. Short stories. Dreams. Essays. Conversations. Musings. Fact. Fiction. Art. Theory. Nonsense."

Naturally, this still doesn't really explain what we're after. And to be honest, we usually don't know what we want until we see it. Last night it occured to us that we're trying to promote a product the contents of which anyone other than those who purchase the magazine haven't seen. Like trying to sell a lucky dip. So, here's a preview of some of the work in each issue. Hopefully this will help those who are wavering about submitting/purchasing to make a decision about doing so.

From #1, "Paola" by Travis McCullers:

"I lit my friend's hair on fire one time. It was cool." - Darius the Convivial.

Blooded arms entangled besides--
Crooks after kisses, sugar for the ride

Flooded temples assume ruin
Doleful hounds perish in the sun
Girls flash their goods for bar denizens
Lorca drags on through the streets of Granada for eternity

Look here, espy the anguish, scan for scars
Stumple upon heaven in a box, dig in for your prize

Bless the relicts, sow the field with salts
Glide like a swan on the surface of comity
Grow your hair out long and brood for a sweet young nestling

Lick your albatross and swoon

__________________________________________________

From #2, "A Visit" by Serena Cook

Why do you chuckle so?
What sparks the cruelty in your bones?
Do you do it to spite us?
You have everything...
Apart from the tissue that makes you human
Because maybe you're not...you can't be
The words you speak are malicious
The deeds you carry out are ruthless
You have everything...
We gave you everything you ever wanted
We gave you what we knew you needed
But now, what you need
What you desperately need is
A visit from a heart

__________________________________________________

Interlude to look at all the pretty covers:

__________________________________________________

From #3, "Boris Johnson's Hair" by Mike Cannon:

Look at his lovely, lovely, stupid, lovely hair
The mouth doesn't matter fill it full of chips no difference
blunderbuss power politic bichon fries locked disaster face
GUUUFFFFAAAAWWWW!
A deformed Churchill burger smashed into pooh bear's corpse
re animated at 240 volts, fibre optic follicles burn through milk.
RA RA RA! YA YA YA!

How?

The king FOP, emperor bungle chops
jowl quivering over a microphone for stammering puppy sympathy
St Bernard's who cant rescue get put down. YELP. So sad.

I will do it FOR FREE. I will shave his head.
__________________________________________________

Of course, all work above is copyrighted to the individual authors and is not to be reprinted without their prior permission.

Hopefully this has answered some of the queries we get about what exactly lies within the pages of Fur-Lined Ghettos. So buy it. We do need your support to continue publishing such great writers.