Reed Bosgoed's Blog

Well, it's been an interesting few months to say the least. I had several different writing projects on the go, but life got in the way, as it often does. Unfortunately, the second book in my dark fantasy series is only just passed the first draft stage. I had hoped to be done editing it by now. At this point, it looks like it might be a few more months before I can afford to pay a professional to do the job. Until then, I'll be busy doing my own edits and working on various short stories.

My origin story for the Natsuko Masamura character from my novels is in the process of undergoing its third retooling. "White Plum Princess" will be the second of five planned free short story supplements to the Eons series. If the hurricane currently tearing through my personal life subsides soon, I may just have the story up on the smashwords site in a couple of weeks.

Speaking of smashwords, they've got an annual week long promotion called "Read an ebook week" where authors discount or give away their books. As I'm willing to try any avenue to reach more readership, I've put my debut novel "The Purging" on the list of free titles this week. Here's the link:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view...

While sifting through some of the offerings on smashwords, some questions popped into my head. First and foremost, what is up with the amount of erotica? It seems as though every second book or short story published on that site is sexual in nature. Let me be clear, I have no moral objections to erotic fiction, people can read and write whatever they like. It's the sheer volume that blows my hair back, combined with the prices attached to them. Do people actually pay 2.99 for a 5000 word story about butt play? And if they do, do these same people buy their smut 20 stories at a time?

The state of some people's pitch is a little shocking as well. Just this morning I've read through a couple dozen that were horrific messes. If your pitch has glaring mistakes in it, people aren't going to give your work a second glance. My English is not Shakespearean in sophistication. As I've stated on my blog previously, my own work is not devoid of mistakes. So if I'm spotting twelve major grammar errors in a one paragraph pitch, that's a really bad sign.

I'm all for amateurs being able to put their thoughts and stories out there. Everybody has a right to participate, but not everyone should be slapping a 5 dollar price tag on what is clearly not professional work. My novel is normally 99 cents. I think it's a fair price. I firmly believe in the strength of my story and characters, but I didn't get it edited by a pro. Taking into consideration the recent public outcry on Goodreads for vigilantism against authors who didn't pay for editing, I may just make it free from here on out.

While I do think my book is worth the buck, being branded as, "a greedy pig, churning out whatever half baked shit they can muster in an attempt to fool the reading public out of their hard earned money" doesn't suit me. (that quote is from one of the many 'what's wrong with self publishing' threads that have been popping up lately.) I'm not here to fool anyone or steal anything. I thought that between myself, my sisters, my mother and my two best friends, the editing would be sufficient. That was an error in judgement on my part. As I alluded to above, the sequel is going to go through a much more rigorous process, up to and including a professional set of eyes. That being said, if anyone who reads this knows of a good editor who works in dark fantasy/horror, or is willing to be a beta reader, send me a PM and let me know.

On a related note, the book in question has been entered into the ABNA contest for this year. I've got everything crossed. With a little luck, maybe it'll make it passed the first round of eliminations. You never know though, the first round is judged solely on a 300 word pitch. That's why I was so fixated on other people's pitches this morning. I spent way too many hours obsessing over my own. There are so many elements to the plot, it was daunting to try and sum it up in such a short space. What I settled on was this:

Humanity has long believed that it was the highest order of life on Earth, the pinnacle of evolution. We were wrong. There are others who covet the crown, and they aren't pleased with what we've done to the planet. Pollution and overpopulation have left our world crippled and spiraling towards utter destruction.

To many among the preternatural species, mankind is a disease that must be remedied if anyone is to survive the next step. Kagan, tyrant of the vampire cabal and his ally the mongrel father Ahmu, have raised an army. Fueled by hate and a mysterious stimulant simply known as "juice", they will cut a swath through human civilization.

The cabal is not without enemies, however. There are allies among the others, those who will strive for the betterment of all. An ancient empress and her most loyal general will lead the charge to save us all.

Humanity itself is not totally defenseless. The Angelista Corporation has been expecting this day for quite some time. Preparations have just been completed for the most advanced weapons system ever devised by man. All they need now is the right candidate, and they just found one. But will their invention be enough to protect them from a fanatical cult of elemental channels?

It's an adrenaline soaked thrill ride through a world of overwhelming darkness. Alliances will be struck, millennia old feuds will be reignited, and blood will be spilled in all corners of the globe. The end is nigh, The Purging War has begun.

Any thoughts or comments, good or bad are appreciated. Have an excellent day internet peeps. :)

Over the past few weeks, I've noticed a rather disturbing trend on this site. I'm taken aback by the propensity of some self published authors to intentionally attack other SPAs in a vain attempt to make themselves look better. It takes various forms; dissecting the grammar of someone's posts, insulting the subject matter of books, questioning of a writer's intellect, and in some cases, outright abusive language. This phenomenon bothers me a great deal. When I created my account on this site, I did it hoping that I would be able to connect with a community of peers and readers. Some days, it feels more like I dove naked into a pit of hissing vipers.

As of yet, I have not been the target of the so-called "experts". But, seeing as I post here on an almost daily basis, my turn on the chopping block is surely just around the corner. Shredding apart innocuous posts functions as the evisceration selection process. The champions of good grammar and perfect plot structure wait for an indie author to mention that they're indie, (or worse yet, mention their book) and then they pounce. God help you if there's a single comma splice in your entire sample section. They WILL point it out, and they will treat it like it's a fucking WAR CRIME!!!

I'm not trying to say that terrible grammar and gaping plot holes are acceptable evils. They're not. If a book is so poorly constructed that it's unreadable, of course the author should work to fix it. My problem doesn't rest with pointing out errors, but the arrogance and vitriol with which the criticism is dispensed.

One author in particular seems to go out of her way to be as inflammatory as possible, often challenging people to argue with her, so she can spew as much condescending diatribe as possible. What's worse, is that this woman doesn't know when to stop. Her victims will nod ascent, accept the critique, and she will continue to attack them for another 50 posts. On numerous occasions I was tempted to pipe up and argue with her, but decided against it. Why waste the time on someone who is clearly only here to tell people she's better than them? Not to mention the fact that this woman is a notorious rating carpet bomber, as are some of her friends. My book doesn't need 100 fake one star ratings right now.

Often these "experts" spew their bile under the guise of "constructive criticism". What they fail to acknowledge, is that constructive criticism is intended to be helpful to the person you're critiquing, NOT YOU! If you suffix your statement with something akin to, "That's something I would never do." or some other kind of grand pronouncement about how much better your understanding of the craft is, you're using your conversational counterpart as a patsy. Making someone a patsy is not constructive. It's rude, ignorant, and pathetic.

Evidently, the indie author community functions on the platform of negative reinforcement par excellence. The more disgusting the picture you paint of everybody around you, the better you look by comparison. At this point, I've read at least 100 posts by various self aggrandizing shitheads that were to the tune of, "90% of all self published books are shameful, disjointed, amateurish nonsense written by uneducated, untalented, unedited losers. BUT I'M NOT ONE OF THEM! I'M DIFFERENT! MY BOOK IS PERFECT! IN EVERY WAY! I'M THE ONE AND ONLY EXCEPTION TO THE GOLDEN RULE OF INDIE BULLSHIT!" To these authors I say, "Fuck you. Die in a fire. You are nowhere near as good as you think you are."

I make the above statement with full knowledge of their material. Every time I run across an author making these kinds of statements, I take a look at a few of their sample chapters. Thus far, not a single one has impressed me. Grammar wise, most were fine, but their prose was by and large average. If you're going to wander around thumbing your nose at your peer group, you'd better be somebody very, very special. One author in particular drives me up the wall. He goes on and on about indie authors writing regurgitated mass market schlock with no originality. Interesting post script to that: the author in question writes SPY THRILLERS. Spy thrillers are a fresh and obscure genre, right?

Another exceptionally irritating habit is the, "I'm a no nonsense person." defense. Many people use that sentence as a flimsy pretext for insulting others. If you can't find a reasonable, polite way to say something, then own up to your attitude and admit to being an asshole. Don't hide behind the supposedly bulletproof armor of,"I'm just being honest." while you're stepping on the back of somebody's head. Just dig your heel into the skull, push down, and stop being disingenuous.

The most common excuse for being hateful and harsh is the assertion that the accusers are 'being professional'. That somehow, the amateur writers are ruining the business for the pros. Their shimmering works of unparalleled genius are getting lost in the avalanche of ill conceived dross. They're not jerks! They're champions of a holy cause!

What these literary martyrs fail to realize is that to many of us, it isn't just about money, or fame, or recognition. We have stories bouncing around in our heads and we want to share them with the world. When I wrote my book, it wasn't as a cash grab. I had a story to tell, so I told it. Was it perfect? No. There is room to improve, in editing and in storytelling, and I intend to work at it. Did people who read my book enjoy it? Yes, some of them did, enough to make me feel confident enough to write the sequel. Hopefully, I can build on the few fans that I have.

I suffer no delusions of grandeur. I know full well that it's unlikely I'll ever be able to do this for a living, but a man can dream. In the interim, I'll have to remember to walk on eggshells when I'm socializing on this site, lest the ravenous piranhas who populate it decide to harpoon my career before it even has a chance to start.

Whimmy, wham, wham, whozzle internet peeps!

Reed

Well, as my nano work is coming along reasonably well, (I'm at 34000 words so I'm behind, but not by too much) I've decided to post yet another chapter from my new book. Remember, it's a beta, so it's not perfect. I'll do some serious polishing before the release date.

Twisting the Knife
Some time had passed since Torrig Balder had been locked away in the isolation unit of the Core's detention level. It could have been months, or years for all he knew. He hadn't seen anyone, or anything since the moment his captors had tied him to a cold, stainless steel chair. Gradually cooking under low intensity UV lights, he could do nothing but squirm helplessly against the solid metal restraints.
They'd given him nothing to eat as of yet, and the possibility of degrading into a snaggletooth was ever present in his mind. Not that the prospect of this bothered him too much. Nothing much bothered Torrig at that point. His psyche had been shattered beyond all possible repair during his prolonged stay as the personal plaything of Ahmu. The fact that he could remember his own name, was nothing short of miraculous.
The original plan was for him to die in the explosion two weeks prior. He'd accepted it, an act of contrition for his repeated failures in service of the ancient forebear. What would Kagan say if he saw Torrig like this? Uproarious laughter perhaps, or more likely, he'd tear off Torrig's one remaining arm and beat him to a bloody pulp with it.
In the back of his mind, he wished for all of it to be over. Centuries spent in service to his ancient master, waist deep in the blood of a myriad inferior races, only to wither and die in a cell. The glorious warrior's death he'd been expecting since his bygone days as a human, now a scarcely possible pipe dream. Valhalla's doors were only open to those who died in the heat of battle. Being slow cooked in somebody's basement would not earn Torrig a seat at Odin's table.
His captors had him right where they wanted him; broken, despondent and disoriented. Jean and Natsuko had been steadily preparing their respective soldiers for the upcoming campaign in South America, but the time had come to extract what information they could from their Viking captive. Upon Natsuko's request, Dr. Stein was present as well, though she was profoundly confused as to why.
Aggressive interrogation techniques were one of Natsuko's most infamous specialties. Stein was in no way interested in watching her work. Any manner of violence made Stein uneasy, and what was to follow would almost certainly involve torture. Jakoba was not looking forward to vomiting all over her freshly pressed lab coat.
“So how should we proceed?” Stein did her best to mask the fear in her voice. A raised eyebrow from Jean informed her that she'd done a less than admirable job. An internal sigh of relief passed through Jakoba. If they knew she was terrified, perhaps she could return to the safety of her lab without witnessing an atrocity.
“He's already primed from the isolation and the lights. Let's see how he responds to some simple questions.” Natsuko's voice was stoic as can be. This situation was common place to her. Hundreds of prisoners had buckled under the pressure she was so adept at applying. Cracking each knuckle one at a time, she mulled over what would be the best way to make Torrig talk.
“You will be taking the lead I assume?” asked Stein, impatiently. Every second that passed made her discomfort more acute. Sweat was already beginning to pool at the base of her neck. She was certain that at any moment, she would begin to hyperventilate.
“No. I think you should do that Dr. Stein.” Any possibility of hyperventilation disintegrates. As anybody can tell you, to hyperventilate, one must be able to breathe. All Jakoba could do is blurt out a barely coherent response.
“Me? Why? I'm not a professional interrogator.” Natsuko turned to face Stein with a wicked smile:
“No, you aren't. But as I understand it, you are of semetic ancestry, correct?” Jakoba removed her glasses to wipe the numerous beads of sweat from her tightly furrowed brow.
“Yes. I don't see how that's going to be helpful. Isn't he a nazi?”
“Precisely doctor. Torrig hates humans, jewish humans more so. We can use that. Make it clear to him that you are the one in charge of this facility. Tell him that we all work for you. It will infuriate him to know that he's the prisoner of someone he considers to be so completely inferior. ” This was the whole reason that Natsuko had involved Dr. Stein in the first place. Some years back, Natsuko had observed how Torrig reacted to being in the same room with Jewish people. Odds were, he'd fly off the handle the instant Stein entered his cell.
“And infuriating him will make him cooperative?” Jakoba could feel the bile creeping up the back of her throat. The situation had gone from intimidating to horrifying at a pace she was not prepared for. Natsuko's unflappable countenance was not helping matters in the least either.
“Not immediately, no. It will however mess with his head quite effectively. He will exhaust any energy he has left spewing hate speech at you. Let him. When I'm confident that he's primed and ready, I'll come in and relieve you.” When Torrig was sufficiently drained, Natsuko had numerous ideas on how to encourage him to share information. Her needles had been sharpened that evening, explicitly for this interrogation.
Stein pleaded in a meek voice, her cheeks flushed beet red, “I'm not sure about this.”
Hands on hips, Natsuko reassured the nervous scientist, “You have to be sure doctor. If you show any signs of fear or weakness, he will know. Be confident, be abrasive, let him know who's boss.”
After several quiet moments of observing Torrig through the cell's tiny window, Jean joined the conversation, “Perhaps, if I went in with you doctor, it would help to allay some of your discomfort.”
Elated by the suggestion, Natsuko clapped her hands together, “Yes, that's perfect.” Wagging a finger at Jean's eye level she ordered, “Provided you keep up the facade that Dr. Stein is in command.”
The overwhelming stress of the situation aside, Stein could see the wisdom in Natsuko's intended strategy. Never one to fly in the face of solid logic, she pushed the fear to the back of her mind and said, “Alright, I'll try. I would appreciate it if you made sure to stay in between myself and Mr. Balder, Colonel.”
“Understood. Follow me in whenever you're ready.” While Stein took a few moments to steady her nerves, Jean strode quietly into the cell and took his place directly in front of Torrig. It took all the self control he could muster not to decapitate him the instant he was in arm's reach. A low lupine growl into his captive's face snapped the UV dazed vampire to attention. An attention that affixed not to the wolf, but to the human walking in behind him. Torrig took a long, deep inhale and began to chuckle.
“What have we here? Do I smell a jew?” Summoning up all her courage, Stein set about her daunting task:
“Yes indeed. My name is Jakoba Stein. There are some things my organization needs to know Mr. Balder. Things you can tell us.”
“Not a chance.” Cooperation to the degree they had expected. For the interrogation to go anywhere, there needed to be some kind of persuasion. Though she abhorred violence, Stein knew how important the information Torrig was withholding could be.
“Colonel, a little encouragement please.” Two strong punches land to the left side of Torrig's ribcage. The sounds of cracking bones carried out into the entire detention level. Coughed up blood dripping down his chin, an incredulous Torrig spat in Jean's face:
“Are you really taking orders from this pathetic little blank? Here I thought you furbags couldn't sink any lower. Guess I was wrong. Not surprising I suppose.”
“Don't talk to me, muckleech.” One hand wrapped around the throat, another gripping the hair, Jean cranked the impudent night kin's head around. When his gaze was fixed on Stein, Jean commanded, “Talk to her.” The sight of blood made Jakoba's skin crawl. In an attempt to ease her discomfort, she removed her glasses and placed them in her pocket. If there was going to be more violence, at least it would be blurry.
“As I said, we need some information from you Mr. Balder. Why don't we start with what prompted your leader to attack humanity the way he did?”
Torrig chuckled lightly at the question, “Isn't it obvious? Kagan was hungry. We all were. The war has been a satisfying experience thus far, much like Poland was back in the day.” Exactly as Natsuko had predicted, Torrig could not resist the urge to spew racial diatribe. “I seem to remember a great many Steins from my days at Auschwitz. Did you perhaps have any family under my care Jakoba?”
“Say whatever you want Mr. Balder. It won't change your situation.”
“Anything I want, eh? Where to begin?” What followed could best be described as the most fantastically delusional rant in the history of white supremecist propaganda. He railed on anything he could think of. Banking conspiracies, holocaust renunciation and the glory of eugenics were all brought up. The more he screamed, the more intense he became. Two and a half hours passed before he even stopped to take a breath. When the split second opportunity presented itself, a deeply disturbed Dr. Stein cut the speech off:
“This certainly has been an 'informative' couple of hours. I'm done with this nonsense.” As she made a bee line for the door, an amused Torrig chided her:
“Oh, please don't go Jakoba, I haven't finished yet.”
“No, you're not finished, but I'm finished with you. Don't fret Mr. Balder, we've contracted someone else to speak to you on our behalf.” With Stein retreating and Torrig exhausted from his tirade, Natsuko seized her opportunity to enter the fray. Sitting down in a chair directly in front of him, she began conducting the real interview.
“Hello Torrig. Did you miss me?”
“Masamura, you're back. I was wondering how long it would be before you showed up. What took you so long?”
“I had better things to do.” She dusted off her hands and removed the black pouch filled with envenomed needles from within her overcoat. “I'm here now Torrig. Was there anything you wanted to say to me?”
“You're a filthy, disgusting dyke and a disgrace to our race.”
“Fascinating opinion. I was hoping however, that you had things to say to me about Kagan.”
“All kinds of things. How about that he's a backstabbing, two faced, son of a whore? Or that I dedicated four hundred years to him only to be sacrificed in a fool's errand because I had one bad night?” Natsuko's eyebrows jumped up in astonishment. Such hostility towards the ancient one was generally unheard of inside Kagan's cabal.
“Sounds like you're a little bitter.”
“No shit bitch. You would be too if you were me.”
“Does that mean you're ready to talk? It's alright if you don't want to. I can think of several ways we can encourage you.” Jean fed the captive two more choice shots to the ribcage as Natsuko unfurled her pouch in her lap. On sight of her implements, Torrig let out an amused grunt. Torture didn't scare him in the least.
“Ha! Nice needles. I hate to burst your bubble, but I just spent a rather substantial span of time as the personal plaything of Ahmu. Perhaps you've heard of him? What you've got planned will feel like a kiss on the cheek compared to what I went through with the mongrels.”
“Why don't I give it a shot and see if I can't make an impression?” She had hoped he would resist the process to some extent at least. Over the years, there had been many occasions where she had just missed the chance to make Torrig suffer. Her elation at this golden opportunity was undeniable. There were a number of special acupuncture techniques she had been saving for just this situation. A needle between thumb and forefinger, she stood up and moved towards him.
“Don't bother. You want to know what Kagan is up to Masamura? Ask away. I'm through suffering in the name of that ignorant fossil.” Yet another comment against Kagan. Natsuko looked to Jean with a confused expression. Surely Torrig was trying to fake her out somehow. He was one of Kagan's most trusted generals. Jean shrugged back:
“Yes, he's speaking truth. It seems he does want to cooperate.”
“That's disappointing. I was looking forward to working him over a bit first.” The needle in hand was slid back into the pouch as a frustrated Natsuko returned to her seat. “What prompted the war?”
“Ra did. He just showed up on our doorstep one day and demanded we help him punish humanity. Naturally we obliged, as Ra's cult was the only thing preventing us from running wild to begin with.” It was a glorious day for the cabal when they learned they no longer had to fear channel reprisal. Ra and his kindred fanatics had been a constant thorn in the vampires' side since ancient times, when Kagan first encountered a fire starter.
“So Ra is in charge then? Mitsuru thought as much.” Mitsuru would be quite relieved to know she had been right all along. Some good news might help to pull her out of the depressive funk she'd been in since they lost their base of operations in Okinawa. The clan's glorious strategist had been near useless at her duties in the months since her life's first failure.
“Oh, no, no. Ra only thinks he's in control. We were only using him for our own ends.”
“Go on.”
“Kagan has been working on something big for quite some time. Problem is, to make it work, he needed slaves, a lot of them. Ra's war provided the perfect way to collect more than enough for our purposes.” Every single human captured had been collared, manacled and shipped to North Western Europe. More would be arriving every day, from all corners of the globe.
“To what end?”
“To build some sort of device. Kagan just called it his 'apparatus'. Whatever it is, it's very large and quite complex, at least a few miles in diameter. I asked him what it was for once, but he refused to explain it to me.” Torrig spat blood on the floor and snarled, “Apparently, I'm not worthy of that kind of knowledge.”
Natsuko wondered what this apparatus could be. Knowing Kagan, it was almost certainly some kind of weapon. There was no telling what kind of destruction was to come if he completed it. She made a note to send some of her best spies to investigate, but she needed to know where to start.
“Where is he building it?”
“Not sure, somewhere in Western Europe I suspect. I was shipped off to Africa before construction began.”
“What else does Kagan have planned?”
“He's particularly interested in getting his hands on your dear little wife. How is she doing by the way?” He turned his head and glared at Jean, “I would have caught her in Japan if it weren't for you and your flea bitten ilk. Your presence was an unexpected factor.” The werewolf responded with another sequence of strikes to the jaw and abdomen. What little teeth Torrig had left at the beginning of the interview laid scattered across the cell floor. The battered and beaten vampire began laughing hysterically.
“If only Ahmu's informant had shared that little tidbit of information with us, we would have been better prepared.” He rapped the knuckles of his left hand against the steel chair, “Then the roles in this little tableau would have been quite different.”
The revelation left Jean speechless for a moment. It was unthinkable that any member of Bashina's Imperium would dare lower themselves to collusion with the mongrels. He grabbed Torrig by the scruff of the neck. “Who is the informant? Give me a name.”
“Ahmu wasn't too forthcoming with sharing delicate information like that when I was in his company. He was usually too busy raping me with power tools to indulge in shop talk.” He shrugged his shoulders and laughed even louder, “The best I can tell you is that it is definitely a high ranking official, with access to the highest levels of intelligence.”
This was even worse news to Jean. Not only was there a traitor in their midst, but a traitor in Bashina's inner circle. Their upcoming mission in South America would have to be postponed until they rooted out the mole. The Infuriated, the wolf let loose with another brutal flurry of violence. When Natsuko finally managed to pull him off, Torrig's face looked like it had been fed through a wood chipper. Even with his jaw smashed to bits, Torrig managed to stay playfully belligerent.
“Weren't you the least bit curious how fucking mongrels were managing to outmaneuver you? You people are just plain stupid. We were a step ahead from the very beginning.”
“If you're fucking with us Torrig...”
“You'll what? Torture me? Kill me? Go ahead. I've got nothing left to give.” Internally, Torrig was breathing a sigh of relief. Things were trending as he'd hoped they would. His captors were getting angry. They were getting violent. A violent end is all he wanted. He was convinced that a few more choice words would be all it took to send Jean into a homicidal rage. The sweet release of death was just around the corner.
“I'd be more than happy to kill you, but I can't just yet.” Natsuko leaned in close and whispered delicately in his ear, “To tell you the truth I might not even do it. Maybe I'll just tie you to a tree and leave you out naked in the daylight. It would serve you right if I made you into a snaggletooth.”
“Suits me fine. One last earthly injustice before I take my rightful place in the mead hall with my clan.”
“There is no mead hall Torrig. No heaven, no pearly gates, no peaceful eternal resting place. The only thing waiting for you after this life, is oblivion.”
“I welcome it. Even nothingness is preferable to the genetic cesspool that is this world.”
“I'll be back Torrig.” The work done, the interrogators left the room, but not before Jean cuffed Torrig upside the head a few more times for good measure. On the way out, he made sure to turn the intensity of the lights up to their maximum output.
“I'll be waiting with baited breath Masamura.” Upon reentering the corridor, Natsuko notices the suspicious absence of their human companion.
“Where the hell did Stein go?” So disturbed by the proceedings, she had rushed to the bathroom the instant she walked out of the cell. Jean could hear her retching into the toilet from where he was standing.
“She is currently in the lavatory down the hall. I would not recommend interrupting her, vomiting should be a solitary activity.”
“Fine then, I'll fill her in later. So was what he said true?”
“From what I could tell, it was all honest.” As much as Jean wished it was all lies, there was no indication of it. The war was beginning to feel more and more like a lost cause to him. The losses thus far had been nothing short of catastrophic and there was no sign of things getting better any time soon. If not for their minor victory at Two Union Square, things would have felt utterly hopeless.
“Then it would appear we have several new problems to contend with.” She drew one of her wakizashi and moved back towards the cell door, “I'll go ahead and take the honors then.” Jean stepped into Natsuko's path and forcefully shoved her back. The norseman's head had already been promised to another.
“No.” She leaped back towards him and put the tip of her weapon just underneath his chin. A trickle of blood slid slowly down the blade onto Natsuko's hand. For the umpteenth time since they had begun working together, their truce was dangerously close to breaking.
“What do you mean, no? I've wanted to skewer this little weasel for decades. Bullshit politics and red tape always got in the way before. Now is my chance. We have what we need.” She pushed up slightly on the hilt and pointed to the cell, “Time to put the little shit down.”
“I can't allow that. I made a promise to the machine man.” Ben had a right to his blood vengeance if he wanted it, and Jean would make sure that he got that chance. He had never gotten to avenge his own family. At the very least, he could facilitate it for someone else. His old rival would not be allowed to stand in the way of justice being done.
A swift knee to the stomach knocked Natsuko to the floor. While she was stunned, he kicked her wakizashi down the hallway. Standing over her with his arms crossed he said:
“It has to be him. I will not break my vow. If you would like to take issue with it, we can do this now.” Both knew they couldn't pursue it. There had been a few altercations between their respective troops in recent days. Every time a fight broke out, a contingent of drones would rush in to break it up. Neither one of them liked dealing with drones any more than they absolutely had to.
“You wolves and your god damn vows.” Jumping back up to her feet, she made her way down the corridor to retrieve her knife. “Have it your way, but get it done right away. Torrig shouldn't be taking up space any longer than necessary.” As Natsuko rounded the corner out of view, Dr. Stein returned from the bathroom.
“So, it's over then? Thank God. Don't ever ask me to do anything like that again. I'm not built for it.” Jean gave her an unenthusiastic thumbs up and turned to leave. If it were up to him, Stein would not have been involved in the first place. He hadn't trusted her from day one, and that wasn't going to change any time soon.
“Natsuko will catch you up later. I must get a message to Bashina immediately.”
“Hang on for one second Colonel,” She pulled her glasses out of her pocket, and wiped them down as she spoke, “If we're done here, I also have other obligations. First off, I'm going to change out of this puke stained coat. I have an appointment with Yvette later today. Would you please bring her by my lab around three o'clock?”
“Very well Doctor. I will see you then.”

As I'm working on my sequel for Nano, I've decided to post the first chapter here on my blog as a teaser.

Home Sweet Home
A frazzled young succubus sits cross legged on the floor, wondering loudly to herself how she managed to get into her current predicament. At first, it had all seemed like an appealing prospect. Let Dr. Stein and her associates do a few tests on her, and in exchange, they take care of her. Free medical care and protection from the ongoing war on the surface were great, but the accommodations were much less than she’d hoped for. She remembered distinctly being promised a chalet on the moon by the human scientists. Never during that conversation did they mention being tucked away in the barracks just above the laundry room.
Every minute of the day and night the machines whirred away full blast. Not that she could keep track of when day ended and night began. The Core was miles underneath the city of Seattle. Despite the number of times she’d asked, her so called benefactors hadn’t let her out to see the sky once in more than two weeks. Between the noise and the isolation, sleep had become next to impossible.
Her roommates weren’t helping her mental state in the least bit either. The battalion of drones housed with her were an insufferable drag. Drones just weren’t the same as regular people. She could control them with her spores like any other human, but their inability to speak meant they couldn’t pay her the compliments her thralls usually did. Yvette was withdrawing just as much from constant adulation as she was from her numerous chemical addictions.
The monotony of it all was beginning to take its toll on her. Pushed so far out of her comfort zone, all she could think to do was act out like a spoiled child. Security cameras had been sabotaged, fires had been set and anything around that wasn’t bolted to the floor had been trashed by her mute but obedient followers. Today, she had settled on a new tactic, copious amounts of water.
The level was dry and cold, two states of existence that Yvette hated with a passion. Her solution was simple. Turn on the hot water in her bathtub, and leave it on until the whole floor was transformed into a tropical paradise. To her substantial delight, The Core’s hot water supply was nearly endless. In just a few short hours, she was splashing around in a warm, cozy pool of H20. Her momentary respite is quite rudely interrupted by a familiar condescending voice booming over the intercom:
“What the hell do you think you're doing? You do realize that your tub has been overflowing for hours, right?” Of all the people she’d met in recent memory, Theo was by far her least favorite. He was always snide and disrespectful to her. As a matter of course, she had decided to be as snide and disrespectful as she possibly could right back at him:
“Yup. I did notice. What of it?”
“You've flooded that entire level and wasted hundreds of gallons of water.” With a shrug she fires back:
“And?” Whenever Yvette acted out, Theo was the one who got chosen to deal with her. This did not suit Theo in the least. He had no clue how to speak to a succubus, or any woman for that matter. When you spend your entire life building cybernetic weaponry and programming computers, you tend to be a little less than charming with the ladies.
Dr. Stein would have been a better choice. Bringing Yvette on board was her idea, and Jakoba was a much softer touch than he was. Unfortunately for him, Stein was busy working with their employer, Mr. Angelista, on some kind of secret project Theo wasn’t privy to. For the foreseeable future, he was stuck playing babysitter to the stir crazy tractatori.
“Turn the water off you bimbo.” After taking a moment to pinpoint which security camera Theo is watching her through, Yvette makes an emphatic series of vulgar gestures in his general direction:
“Come down here and make me, you pussy. Unless of course, you're still so scared of me that you can't come out of your lab.” There was a kernel of truth to her accusations. He had sealed himself in his workshop from the moment Yvette had arrived. It wasn’t out of fear, but necessity. The work he was doing was important and he couldn’t risk her enthralling him into giving away any company secrets.
“For your information, I don't leave my lab because I have work to do. I have a job. Ever heard of those? Some of us actually serve a purpose around here.”
“Whatever. Go fuck yourself Theo.” They went round and round like this often. He would question her intelligence, she would conjecture that his mother sucks dicks in hell. Neither side would give an inch, neither side would achieve their goals. A few days prior, Dr. Stein had explained a phenomenon to Theo that she called ‘catching flies with honey’. Fully aware his present tactics were yielding zero results, he relaxed his tone and gave it a shot:
“Please turn off the water Yvette.”
“No.”
“What possible reason could there be to flood the place like that?” Toes swooshing around in the makeshift kiddie pool at her feet, she chirped back:
“I like it this way. I've always been a big fan of Turkish baths.” The monitors built into the barracks walls light up with a diagram of that section of The Core’s facilities. A highlighted route flickers intermittently, tracing a path from exactly where Yvette is standing to a glowing blue dot at the top of the map:
“There's a sauna you can use two floors up from where you're at. You don't need to make your own.” A swift right cross shatters the monitor nearest Yvette. She begins yelling back at the abrasive scientist in the most aggressive tone she can muster:
“When I agreed to stick around here and let Dr. Stein do all her research, promises got made.” She paced up and down the flooded corridor kicking up waves in the water “This is my level. I can do whatever I feel like here. If I want to flood it, I can. If you don't like it, you can take it up with Jackie.”
“I suppose I'll have to do that then. There's also the rather unsettling things you've been doing with the drones.” This was the real reason for Theo’s call. Mr. Angelista had told him to be very firm with Yvette. The drones were not to be used as her personal playthings. They were a military asset, not toy soldiers.
“What unsettling things?”
“How about everything? The movie reenactments, the human chessboard, not to mention the ways you keep dressing them up. I mean, just look at the big one you've got carrying around the tea service. Is there any particular reason he needs to be in a French maid's outfit?” Yvette turns to look over the drone in question. It was a large scruffy man of at least six feet tall and two hundred fifty pounds. To an ordinary observer, he would look quite out of place in his doily hat and matching short black skirt. Yvette had several reasons he should be dressed as such. The most important one was that it made her smile. If she couldn’t drink, smoke or snort, at least she could play dress up with her thralls.
“You don't like it? I think he looks hot.” Theo’s monotone response made Yvettte's jaw hit the floor:
“I'd also like you to stop raping them.” The accusation stopped her dead in her tracks. This went far beyond his standard lack of courtesy. Who did he think he was suggesting something like that? Seething with rage she screamed back:
“Excuse me asshole? I've never raped anyone. It's not my fault I'm irresistible.” Without missing a beat, he replied glibly:
“You hose them down with pheromones, then force yourself on them. That is rape. Just because it seems like they want it, doesn't change the fact that they're doing it against their will.”
“So you've been watching me, have you? Been getting your sick jollies creeping on me through the surveillance system? Shit Theo! Why couldn't you just be an ordinary perv and use the internet like everybody else?”
“For one, internet porn is unavailable, as the people who ran those websites are deceased. This apocalyptic war we happen to be in the middle of is sort of thinning the herd amongst the world's smut peddlers. Furthermore, Jackie told me to keep an eye on you, so don't flatter yourself.” Had Jackie not told him to, he would still have been watching. Though Theo had a palpable contempt for most people on the planet, something about this succubus fascinated him. Whether it was sexual attraction, or simply an academic interest, was unclear even to him at the time. Yvette crossed her arms and rolled her eyes:
“Yeeeah, riiight. Of course. I can hear it when the camera lenses zoom in Theo. We both know you like what you see. Just so you know; you're never going to get to touch.”
“How positively heartbreaking. I was really looking forward to contracting a couple of supernatural STDs.” Summoning his most authoritative tone of voice, Theo tried to explain , “You need to stop messing with the drones. All that time saturated with your spores is damaging their firmware. Several of them have become resistant to commands from the primary control hub.” Constant bombardment with succubus spores had eroded much of what precious little cognitive function they had left. Given the violent nature of the drone’s base programming, it was not a good sign that they could ignore commands. If they continued to degrade as they had since Yvette arrived, bad things were bound to happen.
“I don't care. As if anything I've done with them is anywhere near as bad as what you have. I'm not the one who cut out half of their brains and made them slaves.” Numerous people had been on Theo’s case regarding his involvement with the drone initiative. The fact of the matter was, Theo had nothing to do with them. He was quite sick of being blamed for another person's half assed attempt at science:
“How many times do I have to say this? I am not responsible for the drone program. I did not design them. I do not perform their lobotomies. If it were up to me, we wouldn't even use them, but it's not up to me. I am just trying to do my job.” The drones were Archibald Angelista’s pet project. Theo had tried more than once to convince his employer to cancel their manufacture, but with no success. As it happened, a new, more powerful and efficient series of drone was going into production. By the end of the month, there would be hundreds of mark two units all over greater Seattle. It was just a matter of rounding up enough viable candidates for the program.
“Excuses, excuses. At least they get to actually do something when I'm around. If I didn't play with them, they'd just be standing around like statues in the hallway, staring at the walls.” Deep down, Yvette was quite sympathetic to the drones. She was so used to being surrounded by people who were living lives of unabashed passion. The drones' empty, expressionless faces broke her heart.
“They're supposed to be security for the base. What are we supposed to do if we get infiltrated, and all of the available drones are too busy painting your toenails and rubbing your neck?”
“There's other security available besides these guys isn't there? I've seen vampire and animi units around. Why not have some of them watch me instead of the dummy brigade here? I could at least have some kind of conversation with some living soldiers.” In recent days there had been a rapid influx of troops, but those troops all had more important things to do than look after Yvette. Preparations had to be made for the offensive they were planning in South America, and the city proper had to be fortified and patrolled to protect against attack. The near disastrous events at Two Union Square were still fresh in everyone’s memories. If Ra and his fanatical followers attempted another bombing, they would need to be ready. Theo continued dismissing her argument:
“None of your excuses or whining address my original point. Stop messi...” Stomping her foot down as hard as she can, Yvette interrupted:
“Fine! Fine! If it'll get you off my back, I'll ease up on the drones for a while.”
“Good. Thank you.” The frustrated girl laid down on the soaking wet ground and began frantically pounding her fists.
“Can you really blame me? What else am I supposed to do in between all of Jackie's poking and prodding? I'm sooooooooooo bored! Plus, you people still won't let me walk around the base without the big bad wolf breathing down my neck.” She was told initially that she had free run of the non-classified areas of the base. They had neglected to tell her that an approved chaperone was required. Much to her substantial dismay, only one man on the base was approved for such a duty, and it happened to be Jean. Stress takes on a whole new meaning when you’re being shadowed by a disgruntled werewolf who introduced himself by nearly ripping you in half.
“I can certainly see how having the Colonel next to you on a regular basis would suck.”
“You have no idea just how much. I'm supposed to be a member of the team now, not a prisoner.” She had expected fanfare and throngs of clapping admirers after her triumphant return on that fateful night two weeks prior. What she actually got, was a handshake, and a friendly ‘thank you’ from Dr. Stein.
“You're a probationary member for the time being.” Many senior staff in The Core had voiced concerns over a twenty year old succubus fraternizing with their commanders. The vampires from Japan seemed particularly opposed to their leader Natsuko going anywhere near Yvette. Angry whispers erupted any time Yvette so much as waved at Mrs. Masamura. It was extremely unlikely that there would be any spandex super suits and secret decoder rings in Yvette’s near future. Just more tissue sampling and the occasional check up with Dr. Stein.
“Probationary? Have you forgotten that I was the hero two weeks ago?” When Ra had sent one of his zealots to suicide himself and lay waste to Seattle, Yvette had been right in the thick of it. Had she not been there, she was convinced Micheal would surely have detonated, slaughtering millions. Sadly, nobody else saw it that way, least of all Theo:
“You were not the hero, Mo was. You were... just sort of there.” While her spores had weakened the resolve of the crazed channel, it was Mo’s confident words and growing mastery of his new powers that had won the day. “Nobody is convinced we can trust you yet.” Righteous indignation overtook Yvette’s consciousness. There was at least one person who she knew had her back:
“Jackie trusts me.” Jakoba Stein had become a steadfast reliable friend to Yvette. Or perhaps more accurately, she was the only person Yvette had ever known to whom she would affix the word ‘friend’. All of the tests and experiments aside, Jackie had been sweet and caring every step of the way. There was a warmth in her ways that Yvette had never encountered before.
“Does she trust you? Is that why she wears a hazmat suit every time she's in the same room with you?” The suit did trouble her a little bit. It was hard to nurture a friendship with someone who is speaking to you through an inch thick plastic helmet.
“That's just medical protocol. She told me so.” She always did her best to ignore his abusive musings, but he was relentless:
“If you want to keep lying to yourself, go ahead. Whatever makes you happy.” Fed up with the argument, she made her way to her bed to lie down. With a wet blanket wrapped around her like a makeshift caccoon she said:
“You know what would make me really happy Theo? If you got hit by a car.”
“It's obvious that you're unsettled. Most people get that way in The Core. It's just part of living down here.” Living miles below the Earth’s surface completely cut off from the world made even the strongest willed people crack. Theo was surprised she had managed to maintain her composure as well as she had. Isolation had never bothered him much. The Core was the perfect place to quietly go about his work, without outside interference from ethical review boards, or pesky government regulations.
“I just wish I had something to do. Before I came here I spent all my time partying, but I'm not even allowed to have booze down here.”
“If you're that desperate, I suppose we could try to find something productive for you to do.” There were many things around the base that needed doing. It would be no small matter finding something that she was capable of, as well as willing to do, however:
“Like what? I'm not scrubbing toilets or anything like that.” Assigning jobs was not Theo’s responsibility. He had already wasted enough of his precious time yattering at the impudent girl. The ornery succubus was Stein's guilty burden, not his.
“I don't know what to do with you, nor do I care. Talk to Jackie. Maybe she could find a use for you somewhere.”
“I'll ask her about it next time I see her.”
“In the meantime, keep your spores to yourself.” She rolled over and covered her face with her sopping wet comforter. Fingers stuffed in her ears, she said:
“Anything to shut you up.” The intermittent hum of the washing machines below her mercifully replaced the sound of Theo’s voice, and she drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

Hope y'all liked it.

Whimmy, wham, wham, whozzle internet peeps!

Reed

I was looking at my overall plot plan for my series with a friend, and she asked a question that I felt the need to answer on my blog. "Did you put a glossary or codex in your book to explain the various groups and subgroups?" The short version is no, I did not, but I should have. In response to this inadequacy, I am posting this info here. In time, I will make a better, perhaps illustrated version of this. For now, the following text will have to suffice.

1)VAMPIRES: Thrive at night, sustain themselves on blood. Extremely fast, mild regeneration capability, somewhat heightened senses, good emotional control. Vulnerable to immolation and exsanguination.

Breeds

A) Naturals: Those that are born as vampires. Defining physical characteristics are the multiple rows of elongated teeth, blanched white skin and red eyes without pupils. They are generally much older than most vampires. Blood is highly explosive.

B) Absorbed: The largest demographic of night kin. Born as humans, turned into vampires. Their skin is closer to ordinary human pigmentation, and only some of their teeth are pointed. Their eyes have pupils and come in a variety of colors. Blood is highly flammable.

C) Snaggleteeth: Vampires who have been exposed to excessive UV light and prolonged starvation. Yellowish dry skin, rotting teeth and elongated limbs. Mentally degraded to a feral state, standard emotional control for vampires is moot. Blood disintegrates when exposed to heat.

Groups

a) Eastern Clan: Vampires situated between the middle east and east Asia. United under the banner of Natsuko Masamura, the sole absorbed daughter of Va'in, the clan's founder. The group is by and large benign to humans, only feeding on those that violate the clan's strict code of honor. Cannibalism is a grey area.

b) The Cabal: Vampires united under the leadership of Kagan, the oldest living vampire. The Cabal stretches throughout Europe, Africa and North America. The bad guys. If you're human, you're officially food, or a slave, or both. Cannibalism is acceptable.


2) ANIMI: Effectively half animal, half human. Can shape shift into various forms, depending on how much of the inner animal they wish to release. Extremely physically strong, high regenerative capability, heightened senses, poor emotional control. Flesh eaters. Vulnerable to head shots and severe spinal damage.

Breeds

A) High breeds: Animi whose inner animal is a large, generally predatory mammal. EX: Wolf, tiger, bull. Prone to the 'hollow place' disease.

B) Low Breeds: Inner animal is vermin or a carrion eater. EX: Jackal, rat, raccoon. No hollow disease.

C) 'Her' kin: Ocean going animi. EX: Whale, dolphin, manatee. Some hollow disease.

Groups

a) Imperials: Servants and followers of the Empress Bashina. Largest, most widespread and politically powerful group in the world, with influence on every continent. All breeds welcome. Helpful to humanity as often as they can be, most often from the shadows. Eating humans and the intake of juice is absolutely forbidden. Cannibalism is an unforgivable sin.

b) The Horde: Children of the mongrel father Ahmu. Random, crazy and excessively violent. Membership fluctuates depending on when periodic culls take place. Mainly low breeds. Not helpful to ANYONE, even themselves. Eating humans and juice intake are insisted upon. Cannibalism encouraged.

c) 'Her' followers: Animi that choose to follow the teachings of an ancient channel, as opposed to Bashina or Ahmu. Profane society and therefore have no connection to the modern world. Eating humans is acceptable, juice is not, as it is unnatural. Cannibalism is allowed under duress, but not as habit.

d) The grandfather's family: ??? STAY TUNED.

3) CHANNELS: Elemental energy beings. Can absorb various forms of energy, convert it, and expel it as their specific energy type. Some abilities vary, depending on which element they house. EX: Lightning types move very quickly, fire are unaffected by temperature. Regeneration can be instantaneous if there is a nearby energy source. Physically no more resilient than a human. Emotional control varies from person to person. All contained energy is expelled on the instant of death.

Breeds

A) Just one. Types vary based on element, but only one overall breed.

Groups

a) The Chosen: Followers of Ra, the sun God. Hell bent on punishing humanity for its sins. Essentially an apocalyptic cult of fervent religious zealots. All elemental types welcome, emphasis on fire and lightning. Cannibalism is a non issue.

b) 'Her' followers: Channels who ascribe to the faith of an ancient ancestor. Strictly non violent. Fire and lightning channels not permitted. Cannibalism, in fact any consuming of sentient life, is absolutely not allowed.

c) Those who walk with the voice: ??? STAY TUNED.

4) TRACTATORI: A group of species whose defining characteristic is their ability to manipulate the emotional and physiological state of others with excretions etc. Slightly stronger and faster than a human being, but can be killed just as easily. Minor regeneration capability. Variant emotional control based on age and maturity of subject.

Breeds

A) Incubi/Succubi: Excrete spores to affect the physiology of others. Highly sexual and very physically attractive. Long barbed tongues used to consume CSF. (cerebro spinal fluid)

B) Sirens: Use sound to affect others. Non sexual and hideously ugly. Consume brain matter.

C) Banshees: ??? STAY TUNED.

Groups

a) Medina Cartel: A criminal organization under the leadership of Esteban Medina, an incubus. The largest and most influential cartel on the planet. Involved in all types of crime with an emphasis on narcotic distribution. Operatives in all walks of life, in all corners of the globe. Eating humans and cannibalism are permitted. Esteban's one golden rule is; "If it doesn't affect business, then I don't give a fuck."

b) The Hive: A loose affiliation of tractatori based out of Italy. Primarily concerned with prostitution and the operation of "baccanalias". (supernatural bordellos) Strong presence in Europe. Cannibalism is taboo, eating humans is insisted upon.

There are several other species that I will include before the series is over, but for the time being, this almost complete list will suffice. To learn about the "under kin", the "lumpies" and the "serpentine" etc, take a look at the future installments of Eons.

Whimmy, wham, wham, whozzle internet peeps!

Reed

It has become apparent to me over the past couple of weeks that my work is in need of very large bold print warnings. Why you ask? So that misguided idiots looking for the next "Twilight" can move the hell on without shitting all over my work. Now it may just be me, but when a book's synopsis implies an apocalyptic war with man eating monsters, and ends with "liberal amounts of action and gore", I expect there to be graphic violence. It would appear to me that some people, expect a delightful romantic romp with an occasional slap fight.

For a time I was feeling pretty good about my book. People were downloading it, not many mind you, but some. I was getting some positive feedback from readers here and there. My friends liked it very much. Then I got a review from a hysterical woman that, at least from what she posted, is traumatized for life.

The review was scathing, but also confusing. You see she had a "synopsis" of the book in her review. The part of the plot she identified as the most offensive? It didn't occur! She was obviously skimming and completely misunderstood what was happening. She implied she read the book and it was a complete disaster; spelling way out of whack, misused words, no connection between the scenes. There is no possible way she read the whole thing, she got offended by the violence and decided to go on a rant.


I was willing to take most of that on the chin. I did want the plot misrepresentation changed, as it is lies. What did I get for politely asking this woman if she actually finished the book? A mod telling me that I'm not allowed to, and then threatening to ban me for it. I feel sufficiently violated by the situation. Someone is allowed to misrepresent and slander my work, but I am not allowed to call them on it? That is ridiculous.
There's also been some negative feedback regarding the plot, or lack thereof as some put it. Those who said this invariably admitted to not being past the 30% mark. That may be my fault as I intended to have a sequence of stories about various characters that are loosely related and have them connect more and more as the book progresses. Evidently, this idea is lost on some people. A few also said my blurb is misleading, though that as well is a load of shit. If any of them had actually read it, they would know that.


The practical upshot of this is that I've altered the blurb for my book in hopes of fixing this problem. Most notably, I've added a frequent graphic violence and explicit language advisory at the bottom. Perhaps this will discourage the weak kneed Disney Princesses from dragging down my books rating any further.

Any writer, even a total newbie such as myself, knows the importance of reviews. Knowing other people have read something and enjoyed it can influence a person to take a chance on a book. Reader feedback tells us the authors, and other perspective readers, what we're doing right. Perhaps more importantly, it tells us what we're doing wrong. I've been fortunate thus far, as the vast majority of the feedback I've received has been quite positive. There haven't been many, but they've been good, which is very reassuring.

The plot, characters, and general tone of my book have been praised almost universally by my reviewers. So the content is good, but it is becoming increasingly clear that people don't much like my choice of presentation.
When I wrote the book, I knew I was departing from the status quo a bit. I set up my dialogues so that no character ever begins talking in the middle of a paragraph. I throw out a dialogue tag, use a colon and jump to the next line to open quotes. Odd maybe, but not utterly unintelligible. It made sense to me to make it that way because the dialogue is a critical component of my story. The book is also written in the third person present tense, which is a rarely used format. To top it all off, there were some issues with the capitalization of exclaimed words.

None of my test readers mentioned any of these things, but my online reviewers all noticed at least a couple of them. One went so far as to tell me that the only time the present tense can be used in written word is inside dialogue. He also said that "militaries" isn't a word, so I took most of his criticism with grain of salt. He did point out to me some rather specific errors in my writing that I have since gone through the manuscript and tried to fix. There may be a few still in there, so I'm in the process of editing it one more time. Maybe two, just to be safe. I'm still deciding whether or not to go through it and change the dialogue format. Most likely won't, as I understand it's odd, but I really like it that way. You could call it my own quirky trademark.

There is still the issue of the low number of reviews I've gotten. The book was released back in early July. I'd hoped that by this time, I'd have at least 10-20 reviews, good or bad. To be fair, it isn't the most widely accessible subject matter. It has a few hits against it as far as commercial saleability as well. Most notably, there is little in the way of romantic sub plots, and the main characters are not teenagers. I know there is a market for it. Every single one of my friends that have read it thought it was amazing. To clarify, my friends and I are what is commonly referred to as a "hardcores" or "metal heads". There is a target audience for my work, it's just a niche market.

So the question becomes: How to get more reviews? I've run across several different avenues to try here on Goodreads. Most of them aren't working out so well for me thus far. The obvious method is signing up in reading groups that focus on your genre and put your book on the "read and review" list. I've had 10 people sign up to review this way, only two of them ever posted a review the book. One of the respondents was even a MOD from that particular group who was in charge of enforcing the read to review rules. One such rule being: If you can't or won't finish the book, inform the author as to why. Sufficed to say, I have received no such messages.

I have also encountered what is called "review exchanging" between authors. Tried it out for myself, and I won't do it again. Critical feedback from a colleague is what I expected, a phony five star review is what I got. Not to mention the fact that the short fiction the writer in question sent me in return was, shall we say, not my cup of tea. He also qualified his email with "Pick whichever story you think deserves a 4 or 5". It put me in a sticky situation, and caused me no small amount of stress. The whole experience left a bad taste in my mouth.

Which brings me to the most dubious type of reviews, those that are coerced or bought. You know the reviews I'm talking about. The ones that are so glowing that they couldn't possibly be objective. I gave my book to several friends, and they liked it, but only one posted a review. She's a close friend, and she went waaaayyyyy overboard. Not that I don't appreciate the props, but anyone with a critical eye will look at that review and say, "Gotta be a family member or something." I left the review up because it was officially the first one ever posted about my work. So, dubious or not, it was a milestone for me.

Bought reviews are a disaster waiting to happen. Some sites offer a certain number of positive reviews for a set amount of money, others offer advertising and detailed reviews on well traveled sites. Sounds enticing, but it's dishonest and from what I've gleaned from a bit of research, also a waste. A certain post I ran across on Goodreads recently exposed just how bad an idea it can be. A writer (I won't use a name for obvious reasons) paid a certain site to do a review. When it got posted, it was shoddy work to say the least. Poor spelling and grammar, no rating, almost no real critical commentary in it at all. It was in essence, just a plot summary, a very poorly written plot summary. When the author asked for his money back, the site admin claimed up and down that the job was done fine, and would not refund the money. I interjected on the author's behalf and pointed out the errors in the review. (there were TONS) The admin claimed that we were defaming his business, and accused me of being a friend of the author lying on his behalf. He didn't disprove my point, just told me to go fuck myself in so many words.

In the short time since I began my journey as a writer, I've learned quite a bit. Much of it I learned from the honest opinions of those goodly enough to read my work and tell me what they thought. Even if the amount of feedback thus far is slim to nil, I'm grateful for every word. All I can do for now is keep putting myself out there, hand out as many free copies as I can, and hope that the next ten people take it more seriously than the previous ones. I will never pay for a review, and from this point on, will make sure my friends only blow sunshine up my ass in person, not on amazon. ;)

Whimmy, wham, wham, whozzle internet peeps!

Reed

While sifting through the good ol' goodreads boards in the past few days I came across a thought provoking post. "Do you think your book would make a good movie?" My answer is an emphatic yes! To be perfectly honest, I'm pretty sure the vast majority of authors would jump headlong at the proposition of turning their book into a feature film.
Heaps of money, notoriety and opportunity come with working in the film industry. The author of "50 shades of Grey" just got 5 million dollars for the film rights to her book. Say what you want about the questionable quality of the book itself, that's a fat stack of bills. What sane person wouldn't want to have that kind of commercial success?
Our modern world is obsessed with movies, and I personally am no exception to that rule. To say that I've watched a lot of films in my life would be a bit of an understatement. I can't even estimate at the number, but I can assure you it's quite high. Some of those movies were amazing, while others left me wanting the last 90 minutes of my life back. One factor that heavily influences which camp they land in is the quality of the cast involved.
With this in mind, I've decided to make a list of who I would want to play the primary and secondary characters in the movie version of my debut novel, "The Purging." I'll start with the men, then move on to the story's lovely ladies.

Colonel Jean Charles Otibe: As far as I'm concerned, there is only one man who could do this character justice. That man is none other than Djimon Hounsou. He has the perfect look in every way. Tall enough, built enough and he's just the right age to play the role of my book's werewolf super soldier. Not to mention the fact that the character's mannerisms are right in his wheelhouse. He's played a stoic yet savage warrior before(Gladiator), and he did it flawlessly.
Benjamin Gustavo Guitierrez: I've got to go with John Leguizamo on this one. If you need a man to play a smart mouthed hispanic gangster, why not pick a man who's done it 10 times before? Some may get their hackles up at the fact that this is pretty much type casting. Maybe true, but when a man does a type of character as well as Leguizamo does this one, step aside and let him rock it.
Mohammed iben Rasheed: Chris Bridges. Though his being a gangster rapper is a stark contrast to a character that is a devout Muslim, Bridges is a surprisingly good actor with impressive diction. His gift for wordplay would be an invaluable asset in performing the many passionate speeches Mo is prone to.
Kagan: The actor would need to be quite large and capable of coming across as extremely menacing. With that in mind, Tyler Kane would be an excellent choice. His portrayal of Sabertooth in the Xmen films was quite primal and intimidating. I'm not sure how he'd do in a leading role, as he hasn't had many lines in the majority of films he's done. But hey, this is just spit balling anyway. So let's just assume he's an emotional tour de force, shall we?
Dr. Theodore Haniawa: This character is complicated to cast. He's emaciated, not attractive and has no proper emotional locus. Most of what he says is supposed to come across as rude and incredibly awkward. After some thought, I've chosen DJ Qualls. He's a skinny, goofy looking guy who has played a number of diverse weirdos over the years. I think he'd make an almost ideal choice for my amoral crackpot scientist.
Ahmu: Who to play the king of crazy sauce? Bearing in mind two important details; he's got a demonic voice, and he would be all cg in the movie, why not Andy Serkis? He brought one of literature's legendary psychos to life vividly in the LotR movies. I'm sure he'd do the mongrel father justice.
Esteban Medina: I believe that Efren Ramirez would be a good fit. To date, I've never seen Efren play a villain, but I'm just so sure he'd be great at it. Playing a brain melting Colombian drug lord would be a wicked place for him to cut his teeth.
Ra: The slave turned god is an ancient and dangerous foe. Not only that, but he's keen on over the top oration. To service those traits, Naveen Andrews of Lost would do an admirable job I'm sure.
Va'in: Natsuko's father is hinted at in the book, but never appears. That being said, in a movie version he'd undoubtedly make a cameo appearance at one of the intervals where he's being talked about. If it were my choice, Jet Li would be my eastern vampire patriarch.
Torrig Balder: You'd need someone who could effectively play an absolutely unforgivable douche. Why not someone who's an unforgivable douche in real life? Russell Crowe, I'm looking in your direction.
Archibald Angelista: He's cold. He's calculated. He's an old, reclusive, British billionaire. Two words: Malcolm Mcdowell. Nuff' said!
Juanito Guitierrez: Kevin Alejandro would be a fair choice as Ben's cousin/partner in crime. He's got the right look and he's a talented actor.
Natsuko Masamura: You'd need a young looking Japanese actress who can handle herself in the high intensity combat sequences Natsuko consistently finds herself in. Based on that criteria, Devon Aoki springs to mind instantly. She's got the beauty and the martial arts chops to really own that role.
Mitsuru Masamura: This one is a toughie. The issue is, the character is not supposed to be attractive, quite the opposite in fact. No matter which professional actress you picked, you'd have to dress her down considerably. Though considering that the character is arrogant and melodramatic I'll go with Sandra Oh. Her years on Grey's Anatomy would make her a seasoned veteran at those two things.
Yvette Stolnyc: Hollywood is absolutely overflowing with tall beautiful, blondes. So who to play the book's resident drug addled sex pot? I think I'll go with the hottest and most talented of the bunch; Miss Scarlet Johansson.
Bashina Gautama: I've had this one settled since before I even wrote the book. It would have to be Aarti Mann. Beautiful, demure, classy and talented in equal measure, you couldn't go wrong with her as the jewelry draped animi empress.
Jakoba Stein: One of my favorite actresses of all time fits the bill for Jackie. Natasha Lyonne has been exceeding my expectations in her films and tv roles for years now. On top of all that talent, she is undeniably semitic, both in appearance and voice.
Illyana Verikova: Though she's not much more than a bit part in book one, she gets much more important as the series progresses. As long as I'm planning for a movie, I might as well plan for several. Easy choice for this character, Felicia Day for certain.
Dahaka: Again, only mentioned in the original book, but very important in the long run. The final member of the elder vampire trinity would be well represented by the often underrated Lizzy Caplan. Pale skin, dark hair, sharp features and a quiet intensity make her a great choice.

Well, that's it for my long winded actor wish list. Realistically, I'm more likely to get hit by lightning twice in the same hour than have my book made into a film. Even if I did, the price tag on even half of the actors mentioned here would make the film financially untenable. Oh well, a man can dream now and again can't he? Can't he?

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