Mutant Space Monkeys and their Zombie Minions
Apologies for the title, I couldn’t think what to put, so I randomised my brain. While it has nothing to do with the content of this post, I may have inadvertently come up with the greatest movie title in history 
But in order to deliver SOMETHING of the title, here are some zombies:
Apologies for the boobs. It was a frustrating time in my life...
This week, in Pseudo-writer news, I’ve had another rejection slip for Greaveburn. Again, it was a nice turn-down. Apparently the writing was good but it simply “wasn’t for them”. Ah well. Since submitting the novel to all and sundry, though, I’ve had more ideas. Does anyone else get this? You finish a book, it’s been alomst a year since I did, and I still get ideas for blistering scenes that would make it so much better. To be honest, the word count has always bothered me. 54,000 words is a meagre size for a novel, imho. And so I’ve always wanted to stretch it a little further. After long discussions with myself and my primary editor (and long suffering reader, Laura), I’ve decided to add a couple of chapters. We’ve discussed each character in turn, how they develop and what could possibly be missing from their emotional journeys. And, thanks to some byproxy soul searching, I’ve come up with at least two palces where Greaveburn suffers. Lucky for me (if you can see it that way) it hasn’t been accepted yet and so I can tinker to my heart’s content. Unlucky for Abrasia and the other characters, they’re coming out of retirement. As you read this, I’ve added a whole new scene for the heroine and I’m planning another for the poor disfigured Darrant.
Meanwhile, the eminent Pill Hill Press have replied to my submitted short story, The Fly Man. It’s the first time since I started writing (about six years or more) that I’ve touched on my real life in any way and used my Nursing “knowledge”. Emphasis on the quotation marks. It’s a story of a man with Locked-In Syndrome, a terrible affliction where the mental faculties are in tact bu the body just won’t do as its told. Now imagine you’re stuck in a hospital bed with no way of communicating or escaping, and you’re repeatedly visited by a dark, silent figure.
While writing it, I think I might have shat my pants a few times which is always a good measure of whether the stoy has gone well or not. I did the same thing with the opening story of the Not Before Bed collection. Or maybe I’m just a chicken-poop. Anyways, Pill Hill Press said they liked the story, but the style needed work. I split the story into sharp chunks; some only a few sentences. I was supposed to be showing the phasing in and out of consciousness of the MC, Philip. It worked, just not very well. And so PHP have let me fiddle with it and resubmit. Nice folks, that they are. Stay tuned for updates on that!
And finally, my foot-in-mouth situation. Letting my fingers run away with me, I got myself into the pseudo-competition last post. Lucky for me, no one reads the blog and so I think I’ve got away with it. Only the true believers have posted any suggestions (Thanks to Shea, Aggy and Lizzie for their continued support and interest) and so unless some random internet glitch dumps thousands of people my way by Sunday, I’ll only have a few options to choose between. This has turned out great, actually, since I never know how to reward the nice folks who drop by regular (other than with more horrible self-promotion) and so this is turning into a nice way to do that. If reward is the right word
Anyways, we shall see what Deathworm, Space Zombie, Cthulhu-based pic I’ll be drawing by Sunday night. And, of course, I’ll post updates as the doodle progresses. But, until then, here’s one I prepared earlier. The guitar-totting rock chick I intended to post last time!
Let the Rock begin!
Thanks for reading!
