Writing

Ice Station: Death – Launched. Thoughts on My First Horror Book.

I’m mostly known as a science fiction writer, and with good reason.  Of the seven books I’ve published, no less than five are SF (the remainder are a comic fantasy and a thriller), so creature horror is not necessarily something readers would associate me with.

Until now.

Ice-Station-Death-ebook-cover

Yes, it’s a creature book in the classic mold but updated to today’s world, a far cry from something like Outside or Siege.  It’s called Ice Station: Death, and you can buy the ebook here (will let everyone know when the paperback comes out).

So what was this experience like?  To put it simply, I had a blast.  Writing monsters isn’t as easy as it looks from the outside.  You need to research (your creatures need to be biologically viable and behave in believable ways), create a credible backstory for where they came from and how come no one noticed them before and also create characters that your readers will care about.  If your protagonists are wooden cutouts, it won’t make a difference to anyone if they’re in mortal peril.

In that sense, it’s a lot like writing SF, and very different from writing a mainstream book.  When you’re writing about things that aren’t real, or aren’t real yet, you actually have to be more careful of being exact than when you’re writing about real life–at least that’s been my experience.

It’s also nice to write a book where the tension has to come to a boil relatively early in the process and then not let off.  So the action is utterly relentless, and you never know who’s going to be left standing at the end of it…

Readers and reviewers will decide whether I succeeded in creating a good book or not but, as an author, I love this one, and hope everyone here will, too.

If you do read it, drop us a line here and let us know what you thought!

 

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Interview with Christopher Schmitz, Author of Wolf of the Tesseract

We’ve got something a little different today, and hopefully the start of a new series here on Classically Educated: an author interview.  Joining us is Christopher Schmitz, author of Wolf of the Tesseract.

Christopher D Schmitz

CE: Tell us a bit about yourself outside of the writing world. Who is Christopher, what inspires him, what makes him tick.

CS: I’ve always been a storyteller (actually a reader, first) and love tabletop gaming. Besides reading comics, I also was a GM and did lots of RPG gaming for superhero games in high school and run gaming clubs for kids, locally, now as part of my youth work job (youth work is where my college degrees are.) I also enjoy music and have been known bring my bagpipes abroad (though I’m probably a better guitarist than I am piper).

 

CE: What drove you to begin writing?

CS: As a kid I always loved stories, and we got two TV stations if there was good weather, so I had to make up my own. In elementary school I wrote stories and even had a comic book I drew for classmates. I still have them. They were awful, but it was formative. I’ve always had an inner drive to create and self-identified as a story-teller. I grew up in the 1980s and had exposure to new and great stories of the era in comics, cartoons (He-Man and Thundercats!) and fiction was really coming into its own with new waves of fantasy and sci-fi.

 

CE: Which writers do you admire most? Are there any books you’d like to recommend to our readers (and for Classically Educated to review)?

CS: I’ve always been a Tolkien fiend, though I recognize that he’d probably never be published today with the changes to how we publish and consume stories nowadays. Recently I’ve gotten into Robert Jordan and Jim Butcher. I’m also a fan of Timothy Zahn and really like what James SA Corey is doing. Classically, I love Heinlen, Orwell, and have a soft spot for John Wyndham. I really think I need to put Herbert’s Dune on my list. Maybe I’ll eventually get around to it but I’ve only watched it as a movie and it’s probably a failing in me as a person.

 

CE: Tell us about your first publication – a lot of aspiring writers never make it that far, so inspiration is always welcome.

CS: I wanted to write in a shared universe—I was a Star Wars fiend for many years and had read every novel up through the Thrawn Duology. I even wrote most of a book (some of those elements were refurbished for my Dekker’s Dozen space opera series,) and it led me on a quest to discover how to get into the publishing world. In the early days of the internet companies still listed information on how to get in touch with them and I even got a hold of someone at Lucas’s companies who explained that writing in their shared universe was by invitation. I was nineteen at the time and she told me, “Successfully publish something original and get noticed—then people will come to you.” I started writing my original-concept fantasy series, The Kakos Realm. Of course, I did everything wrong to begin with and sketched out a 7 book story arc, writing mythopoeic notes like diet-tolkien. It was picked up by a small publisher that eventually sold to someone else who bought it to shutter the place. I got my rights back, wrote more, and released it as an indie title later. I learned a lot along the way and launched my blog several years ago with the express intent of sharing wisdom I gleaned from making wrong choices or getting good advice from fellow authors. Being an author is a long-term plan. It’s not something you can do to get rich, but every year I’ve done better than the last—and chiefly because I’m finding better and better resources to equip myself with.

Wolf of the Tesseract by Christopher Schmitz

CE: What inspired you to write Wolf of the Tesseract? Was it something you experienced? Something you read? A love of wolves?

CS: Wolf of the Tesseract is something I wrote specifically for the YA and up crowd. I wrote it as something of an homage to Madeleine L’Engle’s Wrinkle in Time series. Of course, I threw in healthy doses of tropes found in the Masters of the Universe and Thundercats era cartoons (both of which got short-lived post-2000 reboots that were amazing and were dropped in idiotic moves reminiscent of the Firefly cancellation.) Anyway, I also added lycan/werewolves to the mix; as a teen I played a lot of World of Darkness stuff and have always loved the themes. After the first book was picked up by a traditional publisher and then went indie when my contract expired and I also released a sequel and a prequel comic book which I bring to the many comic cons that I attend as a guest or vendor. People can get that comic book for free as a digital download (plus other books) by joining my mailing list.

 

Thanks Christopher! Hope some of our readers will check out your books and sign up for the mailing list.  It does sound like something the eclectic crowd here would enjoy!

Being Bad at Middles

writer at work

As I’ve mentioned elsewhere, I’m more of a hunter-type personality than a farmer.  This isn’t ideal for living in modern society, but isn’t completely unworkable…  It does, however, have some interesting side effects, one of which I’d like to share, as it definitely has to do with my writing process.

That side effect is being bad at middles.

I’ve always been fascinated by people who love process, in much the way that one is fascinated by gruesome traffic accidents or unusually large insects.  It’s an awful, awful thing, but you just can’t turn your eyes away.  In my case the reason for that is that I don’t understand it.  I love the rush of a new project, delight in the sense of something just about to finish… but have no passion whatsoever for the nuts and bolts of what happens in the middle.  I push forward to the best of my ability, but rely on whatever talent I might have, and the planning I did in the first throes of new-book enthusiasm to get me through at a hopefully high level.

In the middle of something, I often look around and see friends enthusing about their passion for rewrites or for tweaking their hyper-detailed outline for the hundredth time before starting the actual writing and I scratch my head and wonder how they can keep the enthusiasm alive for long enough to actually finish a book.

Honestly, experience tells me that many of them don’t and most books are sacrificed on the altar of perfectionism before anyone can even see their imperfections.

But some of them do get written, and polished, and edited and published.  I find that wonderful, in the sense that it fills me with wonder.  I know I would never have the follow through; I would drown in the mire in the middle.

I’m like that with everything, whether it be a project for work or a book I’m reading–but it seems particularly applicable to writing.  Generally, my enthusiasm for any given piece of work is lowest right in the middle.

I’ve developed a number of strategies to cope.  I often have more than one piece of writing going on at the same time, or I write something really short that I can get finished when the enthusiasm is still upon me.

Another way to cope is to borrow joy across different aspects.  Perhaps a few hundred words on a bogged writing project can be spurred on by the promise of reading the final fifty pages of my book in progress later on… or of starting a new drawing.  Small highs from other walks of life can spur things on.

Of course, nothing renews enthusiasm in writing like a sale… but that’s not something I can control.

Does my method always work?

No.

On those occasions, you need to fall back on that old staple: sheer bloody-mindedness.  It’s gotten me through more fallow periods than I can count.  It does have the downside that you may despise the words you’re putting down, but I’ve found that coming back a couple of weeks later will improve that text immeasurably… even if you don’t change a single letter of it.

Anyway, that’s how I do it.  Your own mileage, as always, will probably differ wildly.

 

Gustavo Bondoni is an Argentine novelist whose latest novel is a thriller entitled “Timeless”.  You can check it out here.

 

 

Writing 2018 – The Year in Review

So, another year nearly done.  This is the last weekday of 2018, so I suppose it’s time to take stock of the year writing-wise.

Yes, there were a number of story sales (more than thirty), and publications (also more than thirty), so I won’t be doing an itemized list (that way lies utter readerly boredom).  Instead, I wanted to touch on the highlights.

Perhaps the most important thing that happened this year was that I had my most successful year ever on the short story front.  I earned more money from writing those in 2018 than any other year – and even though it’s nearly impossible to make a living writing shorts, it’s nice to see those story sales piling up and the pay increasing.

But that’s probably not what I’ll remember most about this year. in my mind, 2018 will likely go down as the year of the contest.  Though I didn’t actually win any of them, I made huge strides in some major places.  To begin with, I was a finalist in the Jim Baen Memorial Award, one of the two biggest SF contests out there.  That was a remarkable start to a good run.

The next contest was the James White award and, again, I did better than ever: second place and a special Judges’ commendation.  Special Commendation are as rare as hen’s teeth–less than a handful have been awarded in the contests decades of existence.  Huge for me…

Finally, I discovered something called the Wyrm’s Gauntlet, an elimination-round competition with nice cash prizes for all the finalists.  I made it to the final round and finished second… which was utterly cool!  This was the most fun I’ve ever had in a writing competition, as well as the most stress as I awaited the result of each subsequent round.

Malakiad-Gustavo-Bondoni-Cover

Novels were not neglected, but the cards fell differently this year, and I published no Science Fiction books.  The Malakiad, released in March, is a comic fantasy set in ancient Greece, while Timeless is a thriller.  Both are books I really love.

Timeless

In this regard, 2019 looks to be a good year for books.  I already have a couple on the schedule (a horror book and a literary collection of linked shorts), and there are three more under consideration with various publishers who’ve expressed interest in them – we’ll see how that pans out, but I’m optimistic that at least a couple of those will be bought.

All in all, a great year, and something to build on in 2019.  So this is me signing off until next year…

Happy new year, everyone!

 

The Reasons We Write – Yet Another Take

Writer at a Typewriter

I’ve mused in many articles about the reasons anyone would do something as completely barking mad as writing… and I’m not the only one.  Analysis of the writerly life can be delightfully variable, as witnessed by the fat that everyone has a different take.  Isaac Asimov used to consider writers as a species of supermen, an activity not everyone was cut out for.  He even had fun with it, saying (and I paraphrase from memory) that if, as was extremely likely, you couldn’t make it as a writer, you could be president of the United States (this was written back in the era when that was probably the world’s most respected job).

A more modern take on writing would be more like “O woe, writing sucks” (and then the person who wrote that profound thought goes on to whine about how they never get anything published).

My own take is somewhere along the middle path.  While I accept that writing can be a grind, it also brings about great rewards.  There are few feelings comparable to holding a book that contains something you wrote in it, if it’s there on merit (I have no clue how vanity publishing or self-publishing feels, as I’ve not really had experience there – for all I know, it’s awesome).  The daily grind of rejection, on the other hand, is a very effective counterweight.

In my own case, the balance falls on the side of “keep writing”, so that’s what I do… but I often wonder if there isn’t another component: hope of immortality.

Before I look into the immortality game when it comes to writing, I wanted to say that I, personally, believe that all art is motivated, at least a little bit, by that dream of being remembered after you’re gone.  Whether it be a commercially successful film director making a film to cement his critical reputation as opposed to raking in the dollars at the box office or a small child giving you a drawing (and crying if you happen to lay it on a table for a second), artists want one thing: to be remembered.  Yes, approval at the time of creation and presentation is important, but it’s the legacy that matters more.

It’s deeply ingrained.  A small child probably doesn’t have too much of a fixation on death or a true understanding of the stark fact that, someday, he will no longer be around, but even so, the instinct to live on through a piece of art is there.

And, from the Lascaux Paintings to Moby Dick, that hope is sometimes fulfilled…  more often, it isn’t, but the lightning in a bottle can happen.

Moby Dick - Herman Melville

I mention Moby Dick because, in literature, period popularity doesn’t necessarily track to immortality.  Melville died believing Moby Dick was another failure in a career filled with them.  Also believing he was a failure on the day he died was F.Scott Fitzgerald.  And Poe, of course.  Emily Dickinson’s poetry was, for the most part, discovered after her death (only about a dozen of her 1800 poems saw the light while she lived).  Lovecraft and Howard are two men that the SFF genre anointed well after they were gone.

Of course, critical reevaluation and fame aren’t necessarily the rule.  For every rediscovered author or poet who joins the canon once safely buried, there are ten that are universally accepted to be creating literary history as they write, a million who will never be recognized at all and a thousand whose bestsellers are no longer read by anyone (an amazingly interesting read is this page of bestsellers from a hundred years ago).

But writers who were establishing themselves forever were sometimes easy to spot.  Dickens was writing history and everyone knew it.  Harper Lee cemented her position in the pantheon and retired (well, mainly… let’s pretend Watchman never happened).  Then there was Joyce, who established not only his reputation, but will, now and forever, define modernist literature.

But those are classic writers.  Much more important to those writing today is the question: “So what about MY writing?”

Short answer?  No one knows.  Stephen King might be the next Dickens, a man whose work was wildly popular in its day and had staying power as the best reflection of an era, or he might be completely forgotten.  The same could happen with the writers on the other end of the commercial spectrum (although it’s more likely that they will be forgotten, as there are less people around that would remember them).

Me?  I always have this image of a scholar in 500 years or so coming across a brittle anthology containing one of my stories, a precious relic of the final days of print, and writing a misguided book-length dissertation on the way my characters reflect my subconscious manifestations of my desire to retire to a monastic existence on Ceres.

If that, or anything equivalent, ever happens, my work shall be done.

 

Gustavo Bondoni is a novelist and short story writer whose latest book is called Timeless.  The theme of why authors write is also explored in that one… although the motivations are very different than what he cites above, proving, once again, that you can’t trust writers to keep the same idea in their heads for more than a few weeks.  Timeless can be purchased here.

Writing Ennui and the Finished Novel

 

Siege

Fiction writing, as has been mentioned nearly everywhere, is not a particularly happy profession.  It almost seems like the writers who aren’t busy actually killing themselves are writing about it constantly.

Yes, there are undoubted perks.  Having a story accepted for publication by a traditional publisher–one with a slushpile and gatekeeper editors–is an incredible feeling, one that I’ve not found anywhere else.  When a random reader you’ve never met enjoys the story and comments or writes a review–or drops you a note–is another beautiful sensation.  Most important, perhaps is the ability to reach strangers with your ideas.

Unfortunately, the highs are offset by a number of lows.  The first and perhaps most clichéd, is rejection.  All writers get rejections except for those whose name sells by itself.  If a publication rejects something sent to them by Stephen King, all of the accountants will immediately resign.  Some established writers get few rejections… but most writers get lots and lots of them, all the time.

Timeless

But that’s not all.  So your story or novel ran the gauntlet, convinced an editor and a publisher and saw the light… the reviews might not be as good as you hoped for: the words ‘imbecilic’, ‘moronic’ and ‘stupid’ are bandied around quite lightly in the Amazon review areas.  So is the term ‘semi-literate’.  Worse, sometimes the reviewer really doesn’t like it.

And then there’s the feeling that your novel has launched to widespread indifference…  They don’t like it. They don’t hate it.  Hell, did anyone even buy this thing?

Worst of all is the fact that these things don’t come in neat packets.  They arrive in bunches.  I can virtually guarantee that just when you’re sitting in a bar drowning the unhappiness of a particularly vitriolic review in Publisher’s Weekly under a few gallons of alcohol, you will glance at your phone to find a rejection of your very best story, the one you’d pinned all your hopes on, sitting in your inbox.

And did we mention writer’s block and stories with endings that don’t come together and deadlines and watching others get publishing contracts that you’d cheerfully kill for?  It can become a bit of a grind.

Malakiad-Gustavo-Bondoni-Cover

Nevertheless, most writers will tell you they love writing.  Hell, I’ll do it for them: I love writing.  I do.  Maybe not the rejections or the nutso reviewers with an ax to grind, but telling stories is one of the greatest activities you can be a part of.

In my own case, I’m fine with most of the above.  Rejections are a part of the game… everyone and his kid brother wants to be a writer.  A lot of them are sending stories out.  Slushpiles everywhere are overrun.

So what?  I’m selling regularly, so I know that a rejection only means that story is one step closer to finding a home.  Good to get it out of the way.  Rejections hurt, but then I get to send the story back out, and depression is replaced by renewed hope.

 

And bad reviews?  In my mind, they mean that my stuff is getting read a little more widely than just my close circle (they never give bad reviews because they know that a bad review will mean that I will visit them in the middle of the night and throw tarantulas on them while they sleep).  It’s a good thing – and you can often learn from a good shellacking.

There’s one thing, though, that really gets to me: finishing a novel.

Writing ‘The End’ is a moment that should be cause for celebration.  And yes, there’s a sense of accomplishment but… it’s not the same kind of happy dance that accompanies a sale, more of a ‘whew, glad that’s done’ kind of moment.  Writing a novel is not a light-hearted lark.  It’s hard work and you feel a lot of relief when it’s done.

And if you’re like me, you are burdened with the awful knowledge that editing a novel is as fun as being hit by a train.

Outside

For whatever reason, after a novel gets done, I fall into a few weeks of utter ennui, in which hitting wordcounts is a struggle and every rejection hurts more than it should.  It’s the only time when I find myself seriously asking myself… is it worth it?  Why do I even try?  There are a bazillion writers out there, and only a handful will ever become critical and commercial successes.  It would be a better use of my time to play the lottery.

It’s this time when one seriously considers things like going back to work for a corporation–it’s both less stressful and less publicly humiliating–, robbing a bank–how hard or dangerous can that be, really?–or moving to some underdeveloped island nation and putting a marijuana kiosk on the beach.

It’s a sense of ennui that I don’t have when I finish short stories.  There’s always another short project to attack, another deadline coming up.  But novels?  Every.  Single. Time.

Perhaps, to steal the oldest, most hackneyed metaphor ever, writing a novel is exactly like running a marathon.  It takes so much out of you that you need a certain amount of time to recover, and while you do, you feel about as frisky as a squirrel who just got flattened by an eighteen-wheeler.

Anyway, I finished my latest book about a month ago.  This is the first week since then that I’ve felt like life has meaning.

I should probably stick to the short stuff.

Or maybe rob a bank.

 

Gustavo Bondoni is an Argentine novelist and short story writer.  His latest book, Timeless, is a modern day thriller that takes place along the beautiful Greek coast.

Timeless Released!

Timeless - Gustavo Bondoni

It’s not every day that I release a new book.  And it is even less frequent for me to attempt a new genre.  I’d never written a thriller before, much less a romantic thriller, but it’s a genre I read in frequently.  The end result was that I felt both excited at the novelty and comfortable while writing it–an amazing experience, in fact.

Timeless was launched over the weekend, and it’s an ebook format.  You can get it on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and, if you prefer to avoid the big retail chains, you can also get it from Smashwords.

A little about the book for those of you who might be curious:

Journalist Marianne Caruso is in Athens on her first investigative piece: finding the reclusive author of a best-selling novel about drug smuggling in the Aegean. She goes out for a night on the town with a good friend, Karina, who disappears after leaving the club.

Marianne’s journalistic instinct, combined with a re-reading of the novel, makes her suspect the kidnapping is linked to her investigation and that the book describes real criminals and events—criminals desperate to keep her from publishing her findings. Now even more determined to locate the author, Marianne teams up with Karina’s family to speak to underworld contacts and discovers the author is a monk at an ancient monastic complex forbidden to women.

Medieval misogyny be damned, Marianne arranges a secret meeting with the monk, but the criminals ambush her. Separated from her companions, she runs for her life with only the monk himself for company, a man who might hold the key to rescuing Karina, but whose past holds secrets that might make him just as dangerous as the men she’s trying to escape.

 

Gustavo Bondoni is a novelist and short story writer based in Buenos Aires.  You can check out his website here.

Writing Humor – A Classically Educated List

Few things are, I was rudely reminded, more difficult than writing humor.  I used to write a lot of humor until I discovered that writing things that aren’t humor is often both more lucrative and more rewarding.

The Malakiad Cover Image

But that changed last month.  I sat down with one of my contributor’s copies of The Malakiad and found myself laughing out loud at my own jokes (I know this is bad form, but for a bit of perspective, please bear in mind that Eddie Murphy would laugh at his own jokes on a certain Saturday night TV show before telling them.  That means that I can do whatever I like).

I realized that, huge effort or not, I had to write the sequel to this one, even if the publisher refuses to buy a sequel (to avoid this sad outcome, please go out and buy several copies of the first book at your earliest possible convenience, and gently persuade your friends to do the same.  At gunpoint if necessary).

Of course, I immediately found it tough going.  Humor is not for the faint of heart.  Want to know why?  Cool, because we’ve created a list.

1.  Humor uses up ideas at a breakneck pace.  If you’ve ever been to a standup comedy show, you’ll have realized that (unless it was really, really bad) the rhythm of the jokes is pretty rapid, with setup following punchline and vice-versa.  The idea is to keep the audience engaged.  Of course, it’s impossible to keep this kind of pace up in a 300 page novel (and if you know of exceptions, I want to read them, so drop me a line in the comments), but the temptation to make the book funny all the time is there.  Even so, all those funny ideas about Greek heroes and anachronistic secondary characters you thought would fill up a whole series, disappear quite quickly.

2.  Different kinds of people have a different kind of sense of humor.  This is probably the deepest pitfall of all.  My own sense of humor ranges from dry British wit to no-holds-barred, absolutely-nothing-is-off-limits humor of the type form the 1980s.  I don’t get offended at any kind of joke, no matter who it lambasts, as long as it’s funny.  I accept that humor is often cruel, and still revel in it.  But even though I’m extremely liberal in what I’ll accept, there is stuff that some people find hilarious that I think is juvenile and, not to put too fina a point on it, just plain dumb.  Nose-pick jokes.  Fart jokes.  The kind of stuff that makes four year-olds giggle has it’s place, just not in my library.

3.  There are different narrative structures to humor, and you have to choose between them.  Beyond the different types of sense of humor, the way its presented also makes a huge difference.  You can structure humor as a series of punchlines peppered within a different context, or you can tell, completely deadpan, a story whose premise is funny per se.  Or, you can go after the absurd.  In a novel, you will have the space to attempt all three, which makes attempting to balance them out a bit of a daunting task.

Example of Offensive Humor

4.  Humor is cruel.  This is the biggie.  We live in sensitive times in which most people who actually read are likely to be offended by perceived lack of sensitivity in a humorous work.  The problem is that humor often laughs at the subject as opposed to laughing with him.  Much of what humans find funny is based on taking a stereotype or common situation and then either turning it on its head or presenting it in such a way as to become ridiculous.  The problem is that those stereotypes are often offensive to someone, and the common situations are common because a lot of people do certain things, and they don’t necessarily want to be made fun of.  My solution to this one is to ignore the possible backlash and to write whatever the hell seems like a good idea at the time.  So The Malakiad pokes fun at everything from Greek Heroes to Jehova’s Cooking to Political Correctness.  I try to be an equal opportunity offender because everyone and everything has inherent humor in them… if only they also had the capability to laugh at it.  I strongly believe that the humorless, whether it be Puritans, Prohibitionists or any other holier-than-thou group are the ones who most need to be laughed at.

5.  The readers of your serious work might hate your humorous novels.  This is a risk, of course.  My SF novels tend to be aimed at people who enjoy thinking things through, a reasonable adventure or mystery, with a love story and usually an underlying philosophical question in there somewhere (I don’t do message fiction–I prefer readers who think to readers who want to be immersed in an echo chamber).  It’s quite likely that a lot of the readers attracted to that kind of book will find a novel about a Greek called Kopulus somewhat… well, I’d better leave it there.  Let the critics think up their own insults.

6.  If the book is actually funny, not funny is a painful Muriel’s Wedding sense, but actually funny, the critics will hate it.  Critics have no sense of humor.  Live with it and move on.

Hope that is enough to keep anyone from attempting a humorous novel.  The marketplace is crowded enough without you, so go write that deep, heartfelt experimental piece instead.  We won’t miss you in the least!

 

Gustavo Bondoni is an Argentine author with several novels and over 200 short stories published.  You can buy The Malakiad here.

A Writer’s First Sale

Typewriter Blues

I think most writers will identify, at least a little bit, with the article below, which I wrote ages ago to try to convey the wonderful feeling and circumstances of my own first sale… I give it here as a public service to those who may not have felt the joy of publication yet.  Hopefully, it will inspire you to push onwards… If I could do it, so can you!

Like most writers, I have a regular job that pays the bills.  And my first sale, in 2005 actually came on a day when I was regretting a recent job switch.

The problem was my new boss, who seemed bent on removing all self-esteem and will to live from his subordinates. With the rest of them away on business, I had been left to bear the brunt alone.  It had been the worst week of my professional life.

Jupiter SF - Issue VII - Pasiphae

Arriving from work depressed and exhausted after nine o’clock, I was handed a manila envelope, with handwritten address.  Inside was a copy of Jupiter SF, a genre magazine printed in black and white.

At first, I was unsure what to make of this.  I had sent them a story, maybe this was a strategy to get me to subscribe.  But then it occurred to me that they might have decided to print my story, and had been unable to inform me due to my change of email.  I leafed through it quickly, and there it was!  “Tenth Orbit” by Gustavo Bondoni.  The magazine in my hand was a contributor’s copy.  The first payment of any kind for my writing.

I must honestly admit that, since changing jobs, I had let my writing slide.  I hadn’t written anything at all in months, and hadn’t even bothered to send rejected stories out to new markets.  Not enough energy.

Nevertheless, at the moment I realized that I was now a published author; my other worries were forgotten.  The satisfaction I felt was not monetary (although, having submitted by email and received a magazine worth four dollars, I had, unusually, come out ahead), but because someone had thought that my story was good enough that people should hand over their hard-earned cash in order to read it.  And that, somewhere, people were doing precisely that.

My drive to write and publish was instantly rekindled.  And I felt I had achieved something truly significant.

Which was something I had really needed.

 

Gustavo Bondoni is still writing, and has since sold over 200 stories and a number of novels.  His book Outside deals with the consequences of posthumanity and transhumanism.

Contributor Copy Reading – An Eclectic Mix

I’ve decided that, since people seem interested, I’ll be making the writing roundups of contributor copies I read a regular feature of the blog.  I’ve recently gone through three contributor’s copies of books that contained my work from 3 or 4 years ago (I make no apologies for this.  If you saw my to-be-read-pile, you’d understand).

For those of you who are not writers, a quick reminder: a contributor’s copy is a magazine or book containing a writer’s work that the publisher sends the writer to keep for his own records or to show it to his friends and brag about it.  They make writers happy, unless the writer’s name is spelled wrong, in which case they make writers homicidal.

Falling Star December 2014

The first of today’s eclectic mix is a small saddle-stitched magazine (saddle-stitching is when the sheets are folded in half and then stapled – a popular magazine binding format) entitled Falling Star.  This one contained my story “A Time to Reflect” which is the sequel to the ever-popular “Dangerous Skies”.  The mag was a quick read not only because of its short length but also because the weird holiday themes were very entertaining.  Recommended.

Love, Time, Space, Magic Cover

Next up is an antho we’ve featured here before.  You may remember that Elizabeth Hirst, the editor of Love, Time, Space, Magic, was here to tell us about the unique challenges of creating an SFF / Romance antho without offending the readers of both genres simultaneously.  She paints a much more edifying picture of that antho in her note than I ever could, so I will only say she succeeded.  I almost never read romance, but this book both entertained and, occasionally, moved me.  It’s a wonderful book.  This one holds my story “Modern Love”.

Apex Book of World SF Volume 2

The third book is perhaps the most interesting of all, as The Apex Book of World SF Vloume 2 aims to showcase the best of non-anglocentric genre work (the “SF” in the title is open ended and includes fantasy and slipstream).  A book like this will always be limited by what is available in English, but the effort to locate these stories is commendable. The book does do a good job of finding good examples and most people, especially anglo-centric people, will enjoy it.

In my case, the only criticism I have for this series is that it tended to focus a little too much on colonial concerns (as in how colonialism affects everyone) and not enough on the real stuff that happens in all these other wonderful countries. What most First World citizens seem to have trouble understanding is that post-colonial thought is of interest only to Americans, Europeans and certain academics or activists within the former colonies.  The rest of the people there don’t care, and aren’t interested in fiction that speaks to it.  However, as World SF which speaks to the concerns of the Americans and Europeans (its target audience, after all), this one works very well.

My story “Eyes in the Vastness of Forever” is reprinted here. It speaks to the concerns of post-colonial thinkers… because I write mainly for American and European audiences… (what, me, a hypocrite?  How can you say such a thing???).

This batch left me shaking my head at just how diverse the genre is thematically speaking.  SFF is wonderful when you stop to think about it.

 

Gustavo Bondoni is an award-winning novelist and short story writer who has just launched a new comic fantasy book in the Douglas Adams / Terry Pratchett vein.  He thinks you should read it.  It’s available here.  And also on Kindle.