The Wait Is Almost Over

It’s been a long time coming, my debut novel. Finished my first draft in late 2009 and believed it was all fine and dandy.  I even had it spellchecked! In my grubby mitts I held a copy of a Vampire novel set in the Soviet Union of the 1930s with Stalin in it and everything. What more could any editor want?  Lots, as it happened. Early the next year I submitted three chapters to an editor at a conference in Loughborough. He panned it. Not the idea, mind, just the execution. Told me to change it around to his specification and come back to him the next year. Head bowed, a tear in my eye, I swallowed my pride and knuckled down.

After a year I asked about submitting, but the agent concerned seemed less than keen. So, back to the drawing board, I began submitting to small presses with my updated version. Again, no luck.

My last batch of rejections included a good one. Kate Jonez the guru of Omnium Gatherum Press in far off Los Angeles, sent me a letter telling me she rejected the manuscript as it stood. She liked the strong female character at the centre of the novel, but the manuscript needed another thorough revision. Again, I went away and did as I was told.  This time (it was getting on for 2011 by now) success. Kate gave me the OK to send the full manuscript and in time, gave me a contract to sign. Success!

Well, sort of. Another rewrite was necessary. Again, I did it. By now 2012 had danced its way across the world until the beast had finally been tamed. Only minor corrections and proofreading remained. The beast of Vampsov had been conquered.

And so here it is, five years later, a lean, mean 80,000 word book with my name on it. Prould of the little fella, as it happens. Like all five year-olds its bursting with energy, ideas, imagination and thought-provoking questions –but it doesn’t start having tantrums in the supermarket when you don’t buy it sweets. I think you should own one. I’ll sign it for you too, if you like. You can buy them at Amazon or the good folks at Omnium Gatherum. Available to you from June 7th 2013.

Faction Paradox and how It Found Me

Writing is a funny old pastime when you think about it. It is at once the most solitary of pursuits while at the same time it throws people together into weird looking clusters; like those new-fangled breakfast cereals where grains and nuts are glooped together with honey (supposedly honey, corn syrup more like). And so my own story goes. The sticky substance of collaboration stretched sweet tendrils and drew me fast, into a world I had no inkling of before. And there, in the milky morning bowl of writerliness, I found some kindred souls (and overstretched a simile).

Faction Paradox (FP) is a fictional universe (multiverse, is perhaps more accurate) created by Lawrence Miles. It is based on the worlds created in the BBC TV series Dr Who, particularly the struggles and wars fought by Timelords and other dastardly shenanigans throughout history. FP stories are wide-ranging and varied. Time-travel can take you anywhere, after all. There is a defined nucleus to all the stories, the city of London and the mythical 11 Day Empire which is home to the time-travellers. There’s a lot more too it, of course, which you can read about here, if you want.

 

And so Jay Eales, Obverse Books’ editor of the story collection Burning With Optimism’s Flames asked me to contribute. Jay and I are both long-term members of The Speculators writers group and had invited me (and fellow ‘Speccie’ Jim Worrad) to contribute stories. For me it was an honour, a chance to collaborate with Jay and contribute to my first ever short story anthology. I’m so glad I did.

Jay Eales, staring out from his Jigsaw-Puzzled World

 

Burning With Optimism’s Flames is an excellent read. All the stories are good, although, of course I have my personal favourites. Stephen Marley’s ‘All the Fun of the Fear’ set in an Ealing comedy version of 1950s London made me chuckle and had a great little plot in there, driving the story. Cate Gardner’s Elizabethan tale of doom and ravens is another highlight. Alan Taylor’s story is also dark and weird and its description of the banalities of office life struck a chord too. Philip Purser Hallard’s story bubbled with ideas esoteric and doctrinal and reminded me of Philip K Dick’s last book, ‘The Transmigration of Timothy Archer. Helen Angrove’s epistolary into the travails of an anti-Darwinist explorer. A mention too to Jim Worrad whose dazzling prose made an alien world come alive (It also reveals his background as a classicist, methinks). But as I say, those are the ones that I liked best at the first few readings. I shall, however, keep a lookout for further works by all these authors and am now hooked by the Faction and its devilish paradoxes. Cheers, Jay!

A special mention has to be made of the fantastic cover illustration made by Paul McCaffrey, especially as my wee story ended up being featured in the largest Russian Doll!

 

zzzzzz uh??

I’ve been away for how long???

Oohh, uuhh… whassertime? Oh my God, I’ve been asleep for ages! I’ve neglected the old Floppybootstomp tower. Just look at the place. Ugh! The cobwebs, the rubbish, the stench of rat urine.. what a huge bloody mess!

And yeah, big mea culpas are called for. I got complacent after my 50 000^th hit and 100^th post, thought I could rest on my laurels and my big fat behind. But I’ve just woken from my dream and am ready to face the omnishambles that has become of this blog/bomb site. More posts are coming, my poor, benighted remaining readers. Posts on Faction Paradox to enthrall the Whovians, news fresh from the press, more stuff on comics.

 

Yeah, but before that is the washing up, the laundry, got to find out what day the binmen are coming and all. See you anon, my faithful readers, speak to you soon.

Kinvig

I borrowed the DVD of this obscure Science Fiction TV show from my esteemed colleague and editor, Jay Eales a few weeks ago. So far, I have managed to hold on to it and see all seven episodes twice. I’ll have to return it soon, I suppose, but it will be a wrench to see it go. You see I remember watching the original series when first transmitted and for some reason, never forgot it. This fact is surprising to me. I have a memory like a sieve and Kinvig was only broadcast once in 1981. To date the series has never been repeated on any TV channel. Not ever.

An aura of failure has clung to the series. The programme itself comes from one of SF’s greatest TV writers. Nigel Kneale had already written Quatermass, The Road, the first version of Orwell’s 1984 and the play ‘Year of the Sex Olympics’. Kinvig is Kneale’s first sitcom and perhaps too full of ideas and lacking in a special effects budget to look anything but ridiculous. Perhaps that’s why it failed to get a second series. The TV station that commissioned it, LWT also churned out the execrable Metal Mickey which earned a place in British hearts just like you’d expect a cute robot with a catch-phrase to do. No taste or patience, these TV chaps.

Des and miss Griffin on Venus

Kinvig deals with the typical British TV staple, the abject failure. Des Kinvig (Tony Hagarth) has inherited a run-down electrical repair shop he runs with his wife Netta (Patsy Rolands). Des’s best friend Jim Piper (Colin Jeavons) is a UFO fanatic and collector of conspiracy theories. One day as Des walks Netta’s dog Cuddly late one night, he spots a spaceship. Inside he discovers that one of his most difficult customers, Miss Griffin (Prunella Gee) is in fact an agent from another planet. Miss Griffin gives Des the task of helping thwart an alien invasion of the Earth in a series of missions most of which involve plotting against the local borough council.

A strength (or perhaps a weakness in terms of a mainstream audience) is the ambiguity of the whole thing. One never knows whether Des is in fact mad or if the enigmatic Miss Griffin is really an alien agent. Jim and Des are pathetic characters with nothing going for them and are already prone to fantasize about alien abductions and government conspiracies. Des is also lazy, incompetent and his relationship with Miss Griffin is far from platonic.

Obviously a sitcom that deals with such unsympathetic leads (and possibly their erotic fantasies), will have a hard time in the world of commercial television – however well written it is. I, however, tip my hat to Mr Kneale and his cast. Kinvig is perhaps the best example (Dennis Potter notwithstanding) of magic realism in a TV comedy. Jim and Des have a world view that maybe skewed to believing in irrational or fantastical events, but this is a very human trait and it makes for a very human story. A bit like Billy Liar with space aliens. I loved it all those years ago (in 1981 I was starting to cram for my O-levels) and held it in my memory as an example of the thought-provoking Science Fiction I’ve always loved. The Hitch-Hikers Guide To The Galaxy was also being broadcast at the time. No wonder I did so badly in my exams…

100th Post

 

As milestones go, it’s pretty pointless, but hey, 100 blogposts on Floppybootstomp compress! No bad, eh? And I’m featured on the Phoenix Writers website this month as well. Happy days, you bank-scammed economic crisis-riddled people, happy days…

Comic Book Classics #24

ALAN MOORE

 

Arguably the greatest living comic-book writer, Alan Moore (1953 – ) is certainly one of the best known. And funnily enough he lives just down the road in Northampton (where he was born) which is what, 25 miles from Leicester? So very much a local boy done good. I first became aware of him in the 1990s through his graphic novels V for Vendetta and Watchmen, although I’d read his stuff without realizing it in 2000 AD. The Ballad of Halo Jones and DR and Quinch somehow stuck with me, even as I (rightly) dismissed most US and British ‘graphic novels’ as inferior shadows of European ones.

One aspect of his work that stands out (perhaps the most important for me) is the way his comics are grounded in real world issues and are not afraid to tackle politics. V for Vendetta is a diatribe against Margaret Thatcher, Watchmen too is constructed around a critique of repressive impulses among the powerful (Superheroes being nothing more than fascist vigilante fantasies). In his less familiar works this tendency is also clear; ‘Brought To Light’ about conspiracy theories and 9/11, Aargh (an acronym for Artists Against Rampant Government Homophobia), tackled the introduction of clause 28 and latterly Moore has become involved with Occupy Comics – a project by comic book artists to support the UK’s Occupy movement.

 

Issues of gender are also of particular interest to him. In a medium saturated with unfeasibly endowed superheroines, Alan Moore has collaborated with women artists (most notably Melinda Gebbie, his partner) to tackle the blatant sexism in the medium. Their most notable collaboration; Lost Girls, is an exploration of sexual fantasies from a woman’s perspective. An incredibly beautiful book, it references a great number of images, artists and styles.

 

Alan Moore is a writer who really understands the peculiarities of the comic book medium; its advantages and drawbacks. His writing is lyrical, literate and evocative, but when required it can be sparse, dense or spartan. In his dealings with big business comics he has specialized in turning round ailing franchises like ‘Swamp Thing’ and the bafflingly popular ‘Batman’. He no longer deals with either Marvel or DC, having fallen out over the adaptation of his work to film and their shabby treatment of artists and writers. A remarkable number of his comics have been adapted; From Hell, The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, Watchmen, V for Vendetta. Moore, however has disassociated himself from all of them.

 

Apart from comics, Alan Moore is a published novelist, has written widely on magic (he’s an occultist and a ‘neo-pagan’) and has a long-standing interest in music. His main legacy, however, will be a body of work that showed what comics as a medium could do and what they could be. Sadly, apart from the ubiquitous Guy Fawkes mask (bowdlerized to the extent that it is now used by Tea Party activists), it might just be the film manglings of his work that will endure. It will be a great pity if that happens.

 

Dynamite and Coca Leaves

The Bolivian Revolution of 1952

 

Ah, Latin America! At once evocative and mysterious… a continent of secrets. Who knows what strange exotic jewels lie in this continental Eldorado?

 Well no-one in England will know anything about it for a start. Here we sit on our little island with the metaphorical Murdoch paper bag over our heads and very little knowledge of the outside world. Perhaps, you know, the BBC or someone could do a series on Latin America? Put in some history, politics, social and economic info, that sort of thing? After all when it comes to archeology, science or art they do whole series fronted by respected academics (Jim Al Khalili, Brian Cox etc.) Maybe they could do an in-depth one on 20^th Century Latin America couldn’t they?

 

Jonathan Dimbleby: An Idiot Abroad

Well they can’t. What you get for your license money instead is a fucking know-nothing Dimbleby, bouncing around like pinball ball from cliché to cliché like the annoying little snot-monkey that he is. There’s Dimbleby dancing da-rumba-in-da-Cuba and over there he’s in Chile riding a horse. Ooh, he’s talking to real Latin Americans too. You know the ones, the ones that speak fucking English! So thanks, auntie beeb, thanks for fucking nothing.

 

But I digress. The purpose of this post is to celebrate, maybe bear witness would be more appropriate, the 60^th anniversary of Bolivia’s national revolution. They call it ‘national’ because the political party and movement leading the charge, the MNR (Movimiento Nacional Revolucionario) saw itself as separate from full-fat Marxist ideology. The MNR, however, tried playing both sides against the middle. It had radical left-wing grass roots and a fairly relaxed attitude to capitalism within its leadership. In fact, some of the leaders of the MNR had strong links within the military high command (and versi vicey).

 

To cut a long story short, the annulment of the April 1952 elections by the military led to a revolt led by the workers in Bolivia’s tin mines. The three main tin mining conglomerates (Patiño, Araujo and Hochschild) also controlled the banking system and the media. Known as ‘La Rosca’ (the screw), they bled the country dry in Goldman Sachs style. Land ownership still followed the colonial model that meant agricultural workers endured feudal conditions of repression. 8% of landowners held 95% of land.

 

So the MNR called a revolt. The police in La Paz soon defected to their side and the mine workers circled the city with the supplies of dynamite sticks kept in the mines. Some armed battles were fought, but the young conscript soldiers were no match for the workers (many of which had fought themselves in the Chaco War of the 1930s). The army soon saw the game was up and changed sides and the MNR and the miners took control on April 9^th 1952.

 

New president Victor Paz Estenssoro soon realised that he had no choice but to satisfy his radical support base (you know, the ordinary guys who did all the fighting). The tin mines were nationalized, land reform was instituted and universal adult suffrage introduced (previously there hadd been literacy and other qualifications). A central trades union congress (The COB) ruled jointly with the government. In addition, rural education was given priority for the first time.

 

The revolutionary period came to an end with the coup of 1964. Ultimately Bolivia remained a poor country with few resources. Economic problems, social divisions and the propensity for the army and factions of the political class to ‘do deals’ have always lead to coups. Hopefully Evo Morales (in many ways the heir to the ‘reluctant revolutionaries’ of 52) can do better.

James Goldsmith: Carpetbagger, scumbag and pillar of the establishment.

 

Anyway, paper bags back on your heads! You do know that James Goldsmith, founder of the anti-Europe Referendum Party married the heiress of the Patino tin mining conglomerate? A man who was relaxed about tin miners paid under a dollar a day and having to chew coca leaves to stave off hunger because they didn’t earn enough to eat. Still, all that Socialist EU health and safety… that’s the real enemy innit?