Sat 10 Apr 2010

links of burning love

Posted by Hoyle under Links, science fiction
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I’ve been going through the fiction section at the COSMOS Magazine website, trying to see what sort of stuff they buy for the web, what sort of stuff they buy for the magazine.

Honestly, most of the stories selected don’t hold my attention at all. Too dense, or maybe they’re just not what I’m in the mood for today. But the few I managed to get through to the end, I figured I’d link here for posterity. Recs for published stuff, as it were.

The Noise Machine by V.G. Kemerer
The victims bore lifelike tattoos of clawed dragons. With human eyes.

Fuel by Matthew S. Rotundo
The third quarter report cards came out on Thursday, and for Jamie, the timing couldn’t have been worse. The Nike man was coming over that night to sell his brother some new blood.

Dogs of War by Bruce Carlson
A dog walks into a bar. He’s here to conquer humanity…

The Dead Man’s Child by Jay Lake
As her father’s star-polished bones rattle in their grave-drawer, Marguerite resolves to track him down.

Remade by Charles Stross
Who said that death has to signal the end? It may just be an opportunity.

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I have a deadline in five days so. Yeah. I’ll go get on that.

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Sat 6 Mar 2010

lord of the dryer sheets

Posted by Hoyle under Et al.
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It’s dreary outside, but I’m huddled against the breeze that is so malicious against my lizard-blood anyway. Nothing like natural (dim) light and freezing your arse off to get the blood pumping, the creativity flowing.

Well, maybe not the last part.

I could blame the internet on my lack of progress with certain projects, but honestly, that would be like saying the sky is falling, and an aeroplane is the cause of such a travesty. They’re distantly related, but not concurrent.

.

My least favourite place in the world is the laundromat. I manage to look like a brooding young hipster with my old laptop and camo-coloured messenger bag, but it doesn’t stop the loudness of the other people using the building. Or hell, even the loudness of the machines.

But the worst thing about the Palace of Clean Laundry is the children who run around screaming like banshees and knocking into things. They think they run this mechanical vorpal pit, so they make us all deal with their animalistic behavior.

And me without my Boomstick.

No, I do not wish ill upon these children. In fact, I hope they will grow up strong and healthy, so that they may have a long life ahead of them. After all, how else are they to learn of the drudgery of life, and suffer through another batch of children fresh off of William Golding’s island, running amock through the next generation of laundromats, wishing they had a shotgun for the children or themselves?

This wish for their health doesn’t stop me from glaring at them when they creep up under the table and try to haul down my precious computer by the power cord. And it doesn’t stop me from kicking at their head with a low growl.

The possibility of incarceration stops me from the latter, and their parents from the former.

(damn those parents, ruining all my fun.)

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Fri 15 Jan 2010

quote unquote wait no–

Posted by Hoyle under Urban Fantasy, novels
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My current lengthy project is heavy on the dragons, and yet not a single one has appeared thus far. I think they are hiding from me. They probably just don’t want to share their gold.

The plan to lure them out of their caves so that I might steal said gold and buy myself a pony is to put the character they are “attached” to in peril and see what happens.

As Bradbury so rightfully says–and yes, I am paraphrasing here, do not think this is an exact quote–”characters are not puppets on strings, they are living people who tell their story through you”.

Just because they aren’t puppets does not mean a little manipulation isn’t in order.

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