An update on writing and also a bit about my life

Very, very occasionally I write blog posts, usually with about the frequency that Earth experiences ice ages or direct hits from coronal mass ejections. I haven't written a post in over a year. Some people would call that lazy.

The fact is, I'm not much of a blogger. For some reason the only people that seem to read my blog are in Russia, at least according to Google. Hi comrades. I'm not sure why you read this but hey, I'm not complaining.

As I don't possess anything that vaguely resembles a readership there doesn't seem to be a whole lot of pointing writing anything, but now and then I feel the need to do so if only to structure my thoughts. This is one of those occasions.

By the way, according to autocorrect I cannot spell occasion. See, I got it wrong again even though it's the third time I've written the word in the space of five minutes.

So, what's been going on in the last year? Well, I suppose the biggest news is I became a dad in May this year. I now have a three month old daughter called Olivia. She resembles me in a lot of ways, in that she likes to burp and fart a lot, is easily amused and when she drinks too much she shits herself. That last one isn't true (at least on my part) but it was a good joke.

On the writing front, things went cold for a while because of the baby situation and also because my photography business was, and is, doing rather well. Since that pays my bills I need to make that a priority over writing. I'm in a little bit of a lull on the picture taking front until late September so I'm using that time to get back on the writing wagon.

To date I've still only published two novels: Satisfaction and Infinite Diamond. I think I've sold maybe 10 copies of Satisfaction, which really does baffle me because it's really not that bad of a book. Infinite Diamond on the other hand has sold very well, and is still selling some eighteen months after publication. This amazes me, but then it shouldn't because it's a fun book.

I have another novel, GhostWalker, which is sitting in the wings still waiting for publication. I really need to pull my finger out and launch that, but I've been putting my energies elsewhere, namely into the sequel to Infinite Diamond (ID), which is called The Eye of Andromeda (TEOA).

Generally, I hate sequels. Unless its Aliens or Godfather Part II, most of them are terrible, either rehashing the same idea or forcing a premise out of a completed story. I'm trying to avoid both of those with my sequel and it's leading to some interesting changes to my plans.

One of the things I do when I write is to come up with a basic plot and then apply characters to it and analyze what happens in the story. If the plot progression is organic and feels like something that would happen because of the characters rather than in spite of them, it stays. If it feels contrived, the plot changes and develops from the characters. That's something that's hugely important to me, especially when writing action and fantasy type material. However far fetched a scenario might be, I want it to feel as though the people in that situation are behaving as though they would and it's them driving the story rather than the other way around. Of course it's a blend of the two, but you understand what I'm getting at, don't you?

The result of this is that the while the original plot of TEOA has remained intact, quite a number of the details have been changed to make it blend much more naturally with ID and expand on the world I created there. The downside of this is that I've created a world much bigger than can be explored within the confines of this one story, and while the sequel works as a standalone piece it strongly links back to ID and it leaves a way forward to expand the story again into the next book Scorpio. It leaves me in the quandry that it is very much a middle act, or the first half of a middle act. I do think I've made it a good enough story to stand on it's on merits, but it's most definitely part of a larger story arc.

Originally, TEOA, ID and Scorpio were all independent stories set in the same universe. As I've progressed with TEOA it's become increasing apparent to me that they all are part of the same story. Perhaps they always were in my subconcious, but the more I put the stories down on paper the more ah ha! moments I have where each of the stories naturally link and layer and build into a much more intricate saga.

I hate that word by the way - saga - but it's the only word I can think of to define the overall arc I'm developing.

So I'm at the point where ID opens the story, TEOA extends that story. Scorpio then adds another layer, almost as a parallel sequel, and then finally NorthStar will complete the story arc.

Originally Scorpio, NorthStar and Nemesis were a standalone trilogy but as I've written ID and TEOA it's become very apparent that they're not. In fact, they don't need to be a trilogy at all. The middle act of that trilogy is completely redundant. I don't want to give out any spoilers in case one day you decide to read these stories but once I have them all published I'll write an explanation of how the story compressed and merged over time.

This is extremely long waffle is my way of explaining that I've revised my planned output. While I was once going to write TEOA and then leave that as a completed story along with ID, I'm now segueing it into Scorpio, and then NorthStar will bring together elements from the previous three books into a very definite conclusion. I'm not going to drag it out without a clear ending and make it up as I go along. Although I'm only 40% through writing the overall story arc, I already know how it will end, who will live and who will die and how the whole story ties together.

The only problem is at the end of my planned story, there's an obvious next story to be told. One day, it will make sense what it is. Whether or not I write it is an entirely different matter.

- Paul

More needly things

My last post was a moan about self publishing and what an utter pain in the arse it is trying to get reviews of your work. My theory is, and I might be completely wrong here, that reviews equal sales, and good reviews equal great sales. Getting those reviews is proving really hard, though.

The promotion for my second published novel Infinite Diamond ended last night, and I've looked at the figures in comparison to my first novel Satisfaction.

INFINITE DIAMOND

pre-promotion sales: 1  ::  reviews: 0

promotional (free copies) sales: 472  ::  reviews: 0

post-promotional sales (so far): 0  ::  reviews: 0


SATISFACTION

pre-promotion sales: 1  ::  reviews: 0

promotional (free copies) sales: 333  ::  reviews: 0

post-promotional sales (so far): 0  ::  reviews: 0

So I can see that I shifted a few more copies of Infinite Diamond than Satisfaction over the same period, but not enough to say that it's all that different. And in terms of reviews and sales, there's no difference at all. I can't even say giving away free copies is worth it because it doesn't seem to generate sales. I guess I can wait a month or so and see what happens but at the moment I'm a bit baffled. Of course, one possibility is that my books are just a load of boring crap that nobody wants to read. To my mind, that's the most obvious explanation.

I'll keep checking back on my sales (or lack thereof) over the next few months while I prepare my next novel Ghostwalker for publication. Maybe something will happen. I'll probably lose all control of my bladder if it does.

Thanks as always,

- Paul

INFINITE DIAMOND (sci-fi action adventure novel)
Amazon.com: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00DK2E94S
Amazon.co.uk:  https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00DK2E94S
Createspace: https://www.createspace.com/4332151

The proverbial needle in a haystack

I've just published my second novel, Infinite Diamond, on Amazon. As with Satisfaction, I enrolled this book in KDP Select as it gives me access to the widest possible reader base. It also allows me to promote the book by giving away free copies for 5 days out of every 90 days. I figured this would be useful to get copies of my books out there and to generate some form of interest. The logic seems to be that you give away so many books that a groundswell of interest is created that then translates into sales once the promotion ends. It also gives people a chance to leave reviews, which in turn generate sales.

Neither of these things seem to have happened.

Now I will freely admit to being a complete novice at this self-publishing lark, but I kind of imagined that there would be a little more post-promotion activity. In short, here's whats happened with Satisfaction:

pre-promotion sales: 1  ::  reviews: 0

promotional (free copies) sales: 333  ::  reviews: 0

post-promotional sales (so far): 0  ::  reviews: 0

The promotion ended a couple of weeks ago, so what this tells me is that giving away free copies does nothing to help sales or reviews. Even one review from 333 copies would be less than 0.3% of the readership showing enough interest to say, "Yeah, I liked it," or "Wow, I wouldn't even use this as toilet paper in an emergency."

This is frustrating and also baffling.

Being a logical minded sort of person, I've decided to follow the same method with Infinite Diamond, so I can do some kind of analysis. Maybe the first book just wasn't what's popular right now, or maybe I'm doing something completely wrong? I don't know, but by putting my second title through the same process I'll be able to see any trends that develop.

The promotion for Infinite Diamond is currently underway, and it ends on June 28th, so I'll update this post then. In the meantime, I'm going to stare at my computer hitting refresh every thirty seconds in the hope that something, anything, changes. It's kind of like eBay, only more personal.

If you're interested, below are links to Infinite Diamond.

Thanks as always,

- Paul

INFINITE DIAMOND (sci-fi action adventure novel)
Amazon.com: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00DK2E94S
Amazon.co.uk:  https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00DK2E94S
Createspace: https://www.createspace.com/4332151

Shameless, unadulterated plugging

I haven't done much in the way of writing for a few months. I've been busy with my photography, which has been going very well, and I haven't had any time to sit down and put pen to paper (or more accurately, fingers to keys).

Last week I published my third short story, Stormfront. This one is a small slice of space opera, and it is so far my most successful story. I have no idea why. I don't know if it's a popular genre, if it's being listed in the right category or if it's got an interesting cover. Whatever the reason, it's selling faster than anything else I've written.

To date all the stories I've published have been unrelated and, for the most part, from different genres. I do tend to lean more towards sci-fi. I can't help it; it's what I like. The upcoming novels I have ready to sell are a thriller and a sci-fi action adventure. I can't publish them until I have them proofread and I can't do that without paying for the service. I need to shift about 1,000 copies of my stories to fund any more novels. I really like the stories and I want to publish them. It's just going to take some time.

So in order to push my work, I'm listing the links to all my stories, both on Amazon and Smashwords. The first half of all the stories are available for free; if you want to know how they finish, it will cost you 99c for each. That's it.

SATISFACTION (confessional adult thriller, novel - definitely not for kids!)
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/280265
Amazon.com: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00B7WJPEW
Amazon.co.uk:  http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00B7WJPEW

STORMFRONT (sci-fi short story, space opera)
Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/320088
Amazon.com:  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00D4ROJGW
Amazon.co.uk: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00D4ROJGW

TRICKSTER (confessional short story)
Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/281171
Amazon.com: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00B97R4BQ
Amazon.co.uk: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00B97R4BQ

TRAVEL OPPORTUNITIES (sci-fi short story)
Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/282269
Amazon.com:  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00BB2EVVU
Amazon.co.uk:  http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00BB2EVVU

Please do check these out, and if you like them, let me know. If you hate them, let me know too. I can take it.

- Paul

Evolution of a story: GhostWalker

This week, I finished reviewing the latest and what I hope is the final version of my novel GhostWalker, which I first conceived of and wrote in 1993, when I was 18. It was initially written as a screenplay and it was appalling: laughable dialogue and phenomenally bad plotting meant that, in retrospect, it was unintentionally hilarious. That initial version only exists as a hard copy sitting in a folder under a bed somewhere in England. I need to get it back one of these days.

Between that version in 1993 and the version of the story that exists now, some twenty years later, I made numerous attempts to rewrite the story. The amount of effort I put into the story is a testament not only to how incredibly awful that first version was (I'm not even exaggerating here; when I do finally get my hands on that original copy, I'll scan it and upload so you can see for yourself) but also that at the heart of the tale lay a pretty good action adventure.

Honestly, I've been toying around with this story for so long that I've lost track of when I started to rewrite it again and how the plot and characters began to evolve. Apart from the first missing draft, I think I still have all the subsequent versions. The problem is they were written on so many platforms that there was never any version control and numerous copies and saves has wiped out any trace of when they were first written.

Based on a bit of deduction and memory (the latter of which can best be described as hazy), I think I began rewriting the story at around the 10 year anniversary mark, in 2003. This would make sense, firstly because 10 years seems like a logical time to revisit a long dead story, and secondly because at that time I was living with my ex, not having a great time and I would avoid reality by sitting behind a computer screen and working either on college assignments or this story.

If I ever do publish the finished version of GhostWalker, which I fully intend to do this year, and it's successful, and there's interest, I'd like to publish an essay on how the story evolved, both for my own satisfaction and also as a guide to other writers struggling with their creations. The amount of work that's gone into the story far outweighs any financial benefit that it could ever bring me, but on the other hand it's been an incredible learning exercise on how not to write a story.

So, and this is really for my sake than anyone else's, I've decided to try and map out the various iterations of this story and figure out where the story changes occurred.  As to why I made the changes, I can't be sure. I can only assume that as I re-read each version I realized that some elements - characters, pacing, structure - didn't feel right and I altered things until the general pace and atmosphere of the story matched my imagination. It's fair to say that where the story is 20 years after it was originally conceived is so far removed that the two stories are hardly recognizable.

My first pass at sorting out the mess is to figure out the order all the drafts hang together. This has taken me about four hours to do, but I think I have it. 20 years of labor and several hours of headscratching has resulted in the following list:

 DRAFT    DATE    WORDS (k)
 A              1993       -
 1               2003       42
 2               2005*     44      
 3               2005*     43
 4               2005       35
 5               2006       79
 6               2006       92
 7               2006       108
 8               2010       105
 9               2011       79
10              2012       83


This bit of organization threw up a couple of interesting things. Firstly, although I have 10 different drafts, there are some which are minor and only five that have substantial changes: drafts 1, 5, 6, 7 and 9 have the major alterations. The biggest change was between 8 and 9. By draft 8 the story had become a boring, bloated mess. A year after writing it I tore it apart and completely rebuilt the first half of the story as draft 9, changing it from a interminably boring opus into what it was supposed to be in the first place: fun and exciting. Draft 10 rewrote the second half of the story.

Rather like draft 8, this blog post has become overlong and far too dull. I'm bored of writing this now, so I'll stop. If you want to hear more, a) let me know and b) get a life.

A snippet of writing from the mind of an idiot

Just because I feel like it, here's three chapters of the latest story I'm working on. There's no real context to these as they form the middle section of the first act of this story.  This is really the pivotal point for the story that sets up the rest of the adventure.

I like to take the basic conventions of story telling and play around with them. In my first ever (unpublished, crap) novel, I had a fairly traditional boy meets girl, boy loses girl structure but rather than the normal boy wins girl back third act I went more with boy hates girl and wishes she was dead and is glad when the other boy he lost her to dies horribly. That was a bit of a mean spirited story, really. Most of my stuff turns out that way. I don't write nice stuff; as my wife likes to say, "Why can't you write stuff I'd enjoy?" Sadly, that's just not me. But anyway, back to the point. This is the sequel to a novel I've already written and shopped around to a few agents without any success whatsoever. If you're wondering why I'm writing a sequel to a story that nobody is remotely interested in then don't worry because I'm wondering exactly the same thing myself. The only answer that I can give you is simply this: I like writing stories.

5 - Date Night

“Hit me again,” Sebastian ordered the barman, his speech slurred by the alcohol already flowing through his system. The barman, a young, olive skinned man with slicked back black hair, looked Sebastian up and down and shrugged. “I think you have had enough for tonight, my friend,” he said in an apologetic tone.
Sebastian glowered at him. “What are you, my mother?” he sneered. “I didn’t ask for your opinion, I asked for a drink so please, can I have another Ouzo?”
As he spoke, Dan eased himself onto the empty stool beside his brother and slapped his hand down on his shoulder. “You hanging in there buddy?” he asked Sebastian, glancing up at the barman as he spoke and making it clear with his expression that Sebastian wasn’t getting another drink.
“You could say that,” Sebastian muttered, staring down at the bar before raising his head and shooting daggers at the barman. “Of course, I’d be having a lot more fun if this asshole decided to do his job and give me a drink.”
“And that’s why you’re not having any more right now,” Dan told his brother brightly. “It’s kind of traditional not to insult your barman when you want a drink.”
“I don’t need you or him or you or anyone else telling me I’ve had enough to drink!” Sebastian exclaimed angrily, slamming his fist down onto the bar and knocking his empty glass sideways. Dan reached and picked it up, handing it to the barman. “You really don’t do being drunk very well, do you?” he said to his brother dryly.
“That’s rich coming from a guy who got demoted because of his drinking,” came the slurred reply.
“Touché,” Dan replied with a grin, “although in my defense that was a very long time ago.”
“Well, let’s just say I’m making up for lost time, then,” Sebastian sniped back.
Dan put his arm around his brother’s shoulder. “You’ve well and truly caught me up, mister,” he said encouragingly. “Let’s go sit down at our table and I’ll get us a couple more drinks.”
Sebastian let the offer sink into his addled mind and mulled it over. He wore the expression of a man trying to work out an incredibly complex equation in his head but after a few moments he nodded slowly in agreement, and Dan helped him to his feet and led him across the room to a table in the corner, where Sebastian slumped down into a wicker chair.
“Don’t got anywhere,” Dan ordered his brother, who could only mumble an unintelligible response. He walked back over to the bar. “Sorry about that,” he said to the barman in a bright tone.
“Your brother, he had a bad day today, no?”
Dan laughed. “It could have been a lot worse. This morning I thought we were all going to jail. As it is, all that’s happening is we’re being escorted out of the country tomorrow.”
“That is not so good.”
“Not when everything we’ve been working towards for the last couple of years is here, no.”
“Perhaps you will be allowed to come back when he is not so drunk?”
Dan laughed at the suggestion. “It’s not the drinking that the problem,” he told the barman. “It’s what he did when he was sober that’s the problem. Your Navy doesn’t take kindly to people stealing boats and sailing around so close to the Turkish mainland. It makes them kind of antsy, you know what I’m saying?”
“There have nearly been wars over such things.”
“Exactly,” Dan said with a sense of satisfaction, before adding, “although it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to me. All the Greeks and Turks I know are great. You all seem to get along.”
“Maybe we are too similar,” the barman answered with a grin.
Dan gave a little nod. “You might be onto something there.” He glanced to his and his eye was caught by the person at the end of the bar. She hadn’t been there a moment before, but he hadn’t noticed her come in. He glanced around to where he had left Sebastian; his brother was now slumped down in the chair and seemed to be asleep. He turned his attention back to the woman at the far end of the bar and his heart leapt a little as the two of them made eye contact for a moment. Dan quickly broke off his gaze and looked down at the bar, but a moment later he found his attention making his way back to the woman, and when he looked to where he sat their eyes met again. This time she smiled, a wide, dazzling smile.
Dan was immediately hooked. She was beautiful, and he guessed she was in her late twenties. Her skin was deeply tanned and her hair bleached blonde, both from spending too much time in the sun. She wore a short black dress and the way she sat with her legs crossed showed plenty of her long legs. She seemed completely out of place at the otherwise deserted bar.
Dan glanced around. She didn’t seem to be with anyone else, which seemed strange to him. Women like her didn’t wander around alone in Greek tourist towns out of season. He pondered that thought for a moment, and then stood up. There seemed to be only one way he would find out anything about this sudden and welcome distraction to the day’s less than enthralling events.
He casually walked down the bar towards the woman, who watched him curiously as he approached. He took the empty seat next to her and then casually glanced over at her, almost as if he hadn’t noticed she was there. “Well, hello there,” he said with a broad grin. The woman looked at him with only the slightest interest, but Dan was not deterred. “I couldn’t help but notice you staring at me from over here,” he went on, “but that’s okay: if I was you, I’d be staring at me too.”
The woman raised her eyes to meet his and her expression was matched by her tone of voice. “Is that really the best you can do?” she asked disdainfully. Her Californian accent was immediately apparent. “I’m sitting here on my own in this bar and you think you coming up to me and hitting on me with an arrogant line like that is going to work?”
“It seemed like it was worth a shot,” Dan replied, riding the insult like a heavyweight boxer sidestepping a punch, “especially since we’re both American. I’d hate for you to be drinking alone so far from home.”
“The cockiness didn’t work so now we’re trying for the sympathy vote, hmm?” came the snapped reply.
Dan blew out his cheeks. “Is this how you get all your dates? By waiting for them to come and say hi and then ripping them to shreds?”
“What makes you think I’m looking for a date?” she asked dryly.
Dan shrugged and glanced around him. “Well, let’s see,” he began. “You’re in a bar, on your own, you’re dressed up and you’re sitting up here on display for all to see, practically screaming for attention. I’d say that would mean you were looking for something.”
She gave him a wry grin. “You’re half right,” she told him. “Only it’s not a date I’m looking for.”
“What are you looking for, then?”
She gave him a measured gaze before she coolly replied, “You.”





6 - Business Proposal

“Me?” Dan asked after a momentary pause as her statement took the wind out of his sails. “You don’t even know who I am.”
“You’re Daniel Fox, the archeologist. The man who’s just passed out in the corner is your brother Sebastian.”
Dan looked at her suspiciously. “So who does that make you, then?”
“My name is Katherine Whitlock.”
Dan shrugged. “Is that name supposed to mean something to me?”
“I doubt it,” she replied. “I’m not a celebrity like you two.”
Dan laughed at that. “I’d hardly call myself a celebrity.”
“In the right circles, you are,” Katherine replied. “It’s your work that brought me here.”
The laughter left Dan’s voice. “My work?” he asked. Katherine reached into her bag and pulled out a tatty looking paperback book. Dan cocked his head to the side and looked at the cover. It read ‘Modern Myths and Fables’ by Daniel Fox. He rolled his eyes in disbelief. It was the same book Samaras had had in Athens. Seeing it then had made him angry; now all he could do was laugh at the girl.
“Oh my God,” Dan sniggered. “Please don’t tell me that piece of trash brought you all the way out here.”
“Why not?” Katherine replied. “It’s a good book.”
“It’s garbage,” Dan shot back.
“You wrote it,” she pointed out archly.
“Yeah, I wrote it because idiots like you lap that kind of crap up. Atlantis; Lemuria; the Loch Ness Monster, it’s all a load of recycled nonsense that people can’t get enough of.”
“That may be true,” Katherine replied, “but if it is, then why are you here investigating one of your own ‘pieces of crap’?”
Dan’s eyes narrowed. “What makes you think you have any idea what we’re doing here?” he asked her in a low voice.
“Oh, come now, Mister Fox, you don’t have to be Sherlock Holmes to put the pieces together.”
Dan rolled his eyes. “I think you might have got the wrong end of the stick somewhere along the line, here,” he told Katherine. “We’re on an archeological expedition. We’re not looking for Atlantis if that’s what you’re thinking. You want Graham Hancock if that’s your thing.”
“I didn’t say anything about Atlantis.”
Dan shook his head. “Whatever you think we’re doing here, you’re wrong.”Katherine held up the well thumbed book in her right hand. “Page two hundred forty seven,” she said quietly, reading the expression on Dan’s face. “You can tell me I’m wrong but I know from that look I’m not.”
Dan pushed his hands against the bar and stood up. “I’m sorry,” he said to Katherine, “I’ve obviously made a mistake here. You enjoy the rest of your evening; I’m going to look after my brother.” He turned away, not waiting for a reply, and quickly made his way back over to where Sebastian was snoring away, his head lolling down on his chest. Dan reached down and shook his shoulder.
“Come on, we need to leave,” Dan told his brother sternly, but all he got in response was a series of grunts. Dan let out an exasperated sigh and shook Sebastian again. This time Sebastian raised his arm and waved his hand as though he was swatting away an irritating fly. “For God’s sake,” muttered Dan, looking down at his incapacitated brother.
“Need some help?” came the soft female voice from behind Dan. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Katherine standing there, looking down at the stuporous Sebastian. He glared at her. “Not from you, thanks,” he said darkly, as he leant down and tried to lift his brother to his feet, but it was to no avail. The best he could manage was to push him back into his seat. Dan slumped down in the opposite chair and let out an exasperated gasp.
“I’m really not sure what I’ve done to deserve such a hostile reaction,” Katherine said as she perched herself on the arm of Sebastian’s chair and looked at Dan.
“You’re involving yourself in our business, which makes you nosey, and I don’t like nosey people,” Dan told her flatly.
“I can see there’s no beating around the bush with you,” Katherine observed.
Dan glanced around the near empty bar and then looked back at Katherine. “Look, why don’t you just go away? I’m sorry I came and talked to you. It was a mistake. I need to get my brother back to our place when he wakes up and I don’t need you making things more difficult than they already are.”
“I didn’t come here to make your life more difficult. In fact, I came here to make it substantially easier.”
“And how are you going to do that exactly?”
“I’m willing to fund your expedition and provide you with the technical resources and equipment to complete your study.”
Dan blew out his cheeks. “This is reality, lady. Strange women do not come up to guys in bars and try to buy their services. I think you’ve been watching too many movies. Now will you please just leave me alone?”
Katherine was undaunted by Dan’s unwilling response. “I want to hire you. I need your help and I’m willing to pay you well for it.”
Dan put his head into his hands before looking up at Katherine. It seemed pointless trying to argue with her anymore so he simply stated, “That’s not how we work, I’m sorry.”
“I’ve wired one million dollars into your offshore account in Jersey. You can call them and check if you like,” she added, seeing the startled look on Dan’s face. “If you get me what I want, I will wire in another nine million.”
“I hate to break it to but we’re leaving in the morning and I don’t think we’re going to be back any time... well, ever,” Dan said, his head reeling from alcohol and the sudden rush of unexpected information. “If we’re both talking about what I think we’re talking about, I can’t do a lot for you, no matter how much money you throw my way.”
“I’m aware of your problems with the Greek government,” Katherine told him. “I can help you with that. All I need is your consent.”
“And if I still say no, do we get to keep the million dollars?” Dan asked incredulously.
“Yes,” Katherine said calmly. “Think of it as a charitable donation. I’m a fan of your work and I want to see you continue.”
Dan looked up at the beautiful, mysterious woman who sat opposite him, calmly regarding him. “Are you for real?” he finally asked. “You’re not some kind of psycho stalker or something?”
Katherine stood up and looked down at Dan. “I’d advise you to check your bank account,” she told him. “If you and your brother are interested, meet me for breakfast at the Megisti hotel at eight o’clock tomorrow morning.” She gave him a little nod. “Good luck getting him to bed.” With that, she walked away, and Dan turned to watch her make her way swiftly from the bar. He looked back down to where Sebastian was snoring away in the chair opposite him, and shook his head.
“What the hell was that about?” he wondered aloud.





7 - Breakfast Brief

“I’m never drinking again,” Sebastian moaned to himself as he stared down at the glass of freshly squeezed orange juice as though the glass was filled with fresh blood.
“I think you’re still too drunk to be officially hungover yet,” Dan observed, looking into his brother’s bloodshot eyes.
They were sitting on the deck of the Hotel Megisti, overlooking the harbor. Between them was a lavish continental breakfast laid out on the table, along with fresh fruit and coffee. It was almost eight, and they had been expected when they had arrived ten minutes earlier. Sebastian leant forward, holding his head in his hands. “I think my head is going to explode,” he said feebly. Dan grinned at him and helped himself to a bread roll from the table.
“A bit of food and some coffee and you’ll soon be feeling better,” he reassured his brother.
“I’m going to be sick if I eat anything.”
“You were already sick four times last night,” pointed out Dan. “Do you know how hard it was getting you back to the hotel?”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Sebastian said.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Dan replied chirpily. “Just think, in a couple of hours you’re going to have the Greek police knocking on the door and taking you to the airport. I’m sure they’re not going to be as accommodating as this.”
“God, I hope I feel better by then.”
“Me too,” agreed Dan, “although having a million dollars sitting in our bank account helps to ease the pain of being deported.”
Sebastian looked up at his brother with a pained look on his face. “I can’t believe I missed all this last night. You make it sound like something out of a James Bond movie.”
“It pretty much was,” Dan said merrily. “Beautiful, mysterious woman approaches me in a bar with an intriguing offer and a huge pile of cash. How are we supposed to say no to that?”
“You know we aren’t supposed to leave our hotel, don’t you?” Sebastian told him. “This is only going to piss off the Greeks even more.”
“If it wasn’t for the money, we wouldn’t be here, believe me,” Dan said.
“I’m glad it attracted your interest,” came the voice from the entrance to the deck. The two brothers looked up to see Katherine standing in the doorway. She had her hair tied back in a ponytail and wore a long, flowing white dress with thin brown belt around her waist that accentuated her curves. The two brothers stood, Dan sharply, Sebastian unsteadily as she walked over to greet them.
Katherine shook Dan’s hand. “Nice to see you again, Mister Fox. I’m glad you made it.”
“Thanks for the invite.”
“I trust you checked your bank balance?”
“I did. That was very generous of you.”
“Not at all.” She turned her attention to Sebastian. “How are you feeling?”
“I’ve been better,” Sebastian replied grudgingly. Katherine grinned. “Ouzo will do that to you.” She sat down and the brothers did likewise. She looked between them. “It’s strange, you know,” she observed, “from everything I’d heard about you two Sebastian was supposed to be the level headed one and Dan more of the fool. I have to say that hasn’t been my impression so far.”
“Thanks,” Sebastian said. “I just had a bad day yesterday, that’s all.”
“In more ways than one,” pointed out Katherine as she leant forward and rested her elbows on her knees, locking here fingers together in a businesslike manner. “Let’s see if we can’t get today off to a better start.”
"How did you find us here, Miss Whitlock?" Dan asked.
"Katherine, please."
“How did you find us?” Dan repeated. He had no intention of making small talk, and Katherine quickly stopped trying.
“Through your backers,” she told him. “It wasn’t hard. People with money know other people with money. We talk.”
“You have money, then?”
Katherine arched an eyebrow at Dan. “Do you have many people throwing millions of dollars at you?”
Dan shrugged at that. “Okay, that’s a fair point,” he conceded. “I’m still not one hundred per cent sure why you did that.”
“It’s perfectly simple. I want you to find the Eye of Andromeda.”
“That’s what I thought,” Dan said despondently. “I also thought I made it clear last night that Eye is a nothing but a myth.”
“Not according to your book,” Katherine pointed out.
“I told you, that book is a load of crap. It’s a work of fiction spun around some ancient legends. The Eye is a fable, like Atlantis,” Dan said emphatically.
“Then why do you happen to be excavating in exactly the area you purport the Eye to be and why do the papers filed at the Greek Interior Ministry state that one of your objectives is to find the Eye as an artifact of historical significance?”
Dan was shaking his head even as Katherine spoke and as soon as she had posed her question he answered her back. “The truth is we were using it as a cover to excavate early Minoan temples. In case you didn’t know, there’s a lot of tension in this part of the world between Greece and Turkey. That big lump of land over there,” - he pointed out across the harbor - “that’s Turkey. If we find something big, something that could become a tourist attraction, both countries are going to want it and they’re both going to be breathing down our necks. We don’t want that, which is why we used the Eye as a cover story. Nobody takes it seriously which is why everyone was leaving us alone.”
“But the Eye is real,” insisted Katherine.
Dan shook his head. “It’s not. The stuff you’re reading is just legends, half of which I’m responsible for. The book you’ve got is the first book I ever published. It contained a chapter on the Eye and that’s where most of the rumors and stories about it come from. The fact is, I wrote that story to help sell the book. People lap that kind of thing up. It doesn’t mean it’s true. There’s no science or fact behind the story. It’s just that: a story.”
“The Eye is real.”
“You’re not getting it, are you?” Dan said with a dismissive wave.
Katherine glared at him. “It’s you who isn’t getting it,” she said firmly. “I don’t know how many time I have to tell you that the Eye is real.”
“Listen, lady...” Dan began, but he felt his brother’s hand plant on his forearm even as the words left his mouth.
“Our host seems pretty insistent that she knows something about this Eye,” Sebastian told Dan. “Maybe we should hear her out before deciding if this is worthwhile or not?”
“I can tell you now it’s not,” Dan snapped back. “She a lunatic. She might be a rich lunatic but she’s still a lunatic.”
Katherine chuckled. “This is a little bit more like what I was expecting from you two,” she said with a broad smile.
“I’m glad we don’t disappoint,” Sebastian told her, not taking his hand from Dan’s arm. “Now, what exactly is it that you know?”
“Before I begin, I need you to understand that everything I am going to tell you is in the strictest confidence and may not be used by you or any other competitor. If it is, then I will withdraw all funds from your offshore account, not just the money I deposited.”
“You can’t do that!” Dan protested.
“I can and I will,” Katherine assured him coolly. “When I enter into business with someone I expect a certain level of professionalism. If it is absent, I ensure they are suitably punished. Make no mistake about that.”
“You must be a lot of fun at kids’ parties,” Dan said dryly.
“I don’t joke about my investments, Daniel,” Katherine replied.
“You’re clearly serious about your work,” Sebastian observed.
“I am,” Katherine confirmed, “and I expect anyone working for me to be equally serious. Now, shall we get down to business?”
The two brothers glanced at one another. As objectionable as Katherine seemed, there was something undeniably intriguing about her confidence and the notion that she knew something that she clearly believed to be tantalizing.
“Alright,” Sebastian said. “We’re on board.” He felt Dan’s arm tense under his grip but he squeezed his fingers tighter before his brother could speak and continued. “Let’s hear what you’ve got.”
Katherine sat back as a smile of self-satisfaction spread across her face. “Excellent,” she said. “I’m glad you’ve seen sense. You’re going to be a huge asset.”
“I usually get people telling me I’m a huge ass,” Dan told her dryly.
“Hopefully not this time,” was the sardonic reply, before Katherine’s tone shifted to a more serious nature. “The Eye is real. You're just looking for it in the wrong place.”
“How do you know that?” Sebastian asked.
“I’ll come to that,” Katherine told him. “The Greeks built temples to honor their gods. The Eye was, or is, a temple built to worship a star, specifically Alpheratz in the constellation of Andromeda. It’s the brightest star in the constellation, representing the head of Andromeda, which is where the Greek designation for the temple came from.”
“Why would the Greeks build a temple to a star?” Sebastian asked. “That’s more an Egyptian trait, or Mezoamerican. That’s not something the Greeks would have done.”
“I don’t believe they did build it,” Katherine replied, leaning forward again and becoming more animated. “I believe they discovered it, or rediscovered it to be more precise, and renamed it. I think the real temple is much older than any civilization you associated it with.”
Dan and Sebastian glanced at each other. “Was that in your book?” Sebastian asked Dan, who shook his head slowly. Sebastian turned back to Katherine. “You said we’re looking in the wrong place? You don’t think it’s at Megisti?”
“No, I don’t. I think the sunken temple you are investigating is not the temple of the Eye itself. I think it is one of four cardinal markers related to the true position of the Eye.
“Each one of the markers is one hundred and twenty miles north, south, east and west of the temple of Andromeda, which lies at the center, forming the outline of a bright star. Megisti is the southern most marker.”
“That would put the temple somewhere smack bang in the middle of Turkey,” Sebastian pointed out.
“Yes, it would,” agreed Katherine.
“That would mean the Greeks couldn’t have built it.”
“Exactly.”
The two brothers looked at one another again, this time with a new spark of interest.
“Okay, you’ve got our attention,” Sebastian told Katherine. “Now you’re telling us you know where the Eye is located?”
“I suspect I do, and I have evidence to prove it.”
“Evidence?” asked Dan, suddenly intrigued. “What evidence?”

Structuring an unstructured mind is like nailing a cat to a sail in a hurricane

The problem with having an overactive imagination is getting it to stop.  I can be walking along when I have a great idea, concept, lyric, line or something that flashes across my mind.  It's so great it puts the proverbial spring in my step as I let it run free and grow and build and I think 'I HAVE to get this down, this is amazing'.  Then something happens - someone speaks to me, a child punches me in the groin or a car tries to run me over (all have happened) and the great idea evaporates away before it has time to fully form in my memory.  It's a pain in the arse.

That said, a lot of idiocy and madness does survive that initial germination phase and makes it to a scrap of paper, a notebook, the back of a hand or any other place I can get it scribbled down, just enough to prompt the thought again when I look back at it later so that the idea is not lost amongst the noise of the world.

Even with all the loss, I still splurge out more ideas than I can realistically turn into worthwhile work.  This includes stories, songs and often just throwaway lines that I put on Twitter or to a lesser extent Facebook.  I've always written stories, even from a young age.  A couple of things stick in my mind from that period. Both involve the same English teacher, Mr Milner, who taught me at Oaklands School in York.  He must be dead by now, but he had a huge impact on my life, even though he doesn't know it.  In return, I never gave him back his copy of To Kill A Mockingbird.

My first memory related to his teaching - oh no, wait, there's three, not two - was when we were given a sheet of paper with a series of drawings, depicting a guy who gets a motorbike.  We had to use them to tell a story.  I sort of cheated, because I cut the page up, rearranged the sequence of pictures and turned one of the characters into a policeman reporting on the untimely death of the lead character at the end of the story.  Mr Milner wrote on it 'This is a work of the highest standard, well done.'  That stuck in my head because a) he was right, it was good and b) I didn't get why nobody else did the same thing.  It just seemed obvious to me.

Memory number two was a story about a raft.  I wrote it from the point of view of someone walking through a forest a spying on another person building a raft.  Mr Milner started reading that one out in class, much to my horror.  At that point I realized that I don't crave attention or validation for my writing.  I know when something works and when I doesn't.  I don't need other people telling me that.  If I let someone read something it's because I've gotten it to the point where it's progressed far enough to be presented to an audience.  That doesn't necessarily mean its the finished product.  That said, I do take onboard people's suggestions.  When people read my story I want them to find plot holes or any deus ex machina moments that need extracting and replacing with decent story telling.  I don't have a problem with that but generally by the time I have gotten to the point of letting someone read my work, such problems can be fixed with one or two lines of exposition.

Memory number three was a comment he put on a story about a deranged general trying to blow up a neutron bomb.  He wrote at the bottom - 'hugely entertaining, worthy of Jeffrey Archer!'  At the time I thought that was a compliment, but there will be more on that story later...

So that sort of brings me on to the point of this post.  I have a lot of stories in development, but a lot of them are pretty closely tied together.  In order to keep track of this, I need to set out a diagram of where they all fit together.  Apologies for the formatting:


Brotherly Love

                                                    Valiant Shield

Satisfaction                                Ghostwalker                                                      
Sympathy for the Devil               Ghostwalkers
                                                                                 Infinite Diamond
                                                                                 The Eye of Andromeda          Scorpio
                                                                                                                                  Northstar
                                                                                                                                  Nemesis

Okay, I have more than I thought, that's actually eleven books.  Given the length of book I seem to write, that's about a million words.  Seeing as I do at least one complete rewrite per story, that brings it up to over two million words worth of effort to complete all these stories.  Now you see why I see having too much imagination as being a bit of a curse.

Bear in mind that most of these are not written out in full, and that million word target is probably more around the three hundred thousand word mark at the moment.  In fact, only Satisfaction and Ghostwalker are completed to a reasonable degree, with Infinite Diamond close behind.  Brotherly Love has an outline and a few passages.  Sympathy for the Devil has a start and a premise.  Ghostwalkers has a premise.  Valiant Shield is based on the story Mr Milner likened to the work of Jeffrey Archer, and is little more than a basic pitch.  Infinite Diamond is the story I'm working on at the moment and is about half way through being rewritten. The Eye of Andromeda has an outline, as do the last three.

What links Valiant Shield through to Nemesis is one character.  He's called Nathan Hayes and in some of the stories he's a relatively minor player, whereas in others he takes centre stage.  The overarching span of these stories is really about his career, although you wouldn't see that reading any one of the stories.

The stories on the left don't involve Hayes and are a standalone little stories told from the first person point of view.  This is by far and away the easiest and laziest way for me to write, because I'm basically writing in my voice as I see it and hear it in my head.  If a character doesn't know something then they don't know.  I don't need to go away and research a subject or try to describe something I barely understand myself.  It really is much, much easier writing like this.  It's pretty much the same voice I use to write this blog, only it's fictional.  That's why when I start trying to publish, I'll be using thes stories on the left.  That way if I fail, it's at minimum damage to myself.  The other reason is to retain creative control.  I know where I want the rest of the stories to go and how I want them to fit together.  If I publish one of them without securing that creative control, it would run the risk of buggering up the overall structure that I have in mind.

The rest of the stories are very much more conventional fiction writing and range from thrillers through to straight action stories, mostly with a slight fantasy/sci fi element, although I don't include characters with names like Jxxfrkk or Gilfard the Great or anything like that.  It's a little more grounded writing than that, I like to think.  I do tend to write pretty visually and of course I think about how these stories could end up on film.  I'm also realistic though, and I know there's pretty much a zero chance of that happening, since they would be expensive to make.  So for now they will exist as novels, although another thought has occurred to me.  Being very visual stories, they could do very well as graphic novels.  I think the sort of stories I write could work in that medium and be marketed to the sort of audience who would pick up a graphic novel in the first place.

The only problem is that, like most things in life, I have no idea where to start.

Family (not very )drama(tic)

I don't think I have ever published the following little bit of writing.  It's probably the most personal thing i have ever written.  When I finish rewriting Infinite Diamond, I will probably tackle this story as my next project.

It doesn't have a title at the moment.  I'm calling it Brotherly Love as a working title, just so I can keep track of it, but I doubt that will survive as the title.  Mainly because I don't like it.

And when I say it's personal, I don't mean deeply painful or anything.  I mean the lead character in this story is pretty much me.  In another life, I could be this person.  It's a shame he's such an arse.

So anyway, this is a very small tease of the story.  You get a feel for the style and perspective.  I let my brother read it, since it's based on him as well as me.  He liked it.  It's told from his point of view, and he ends up with this utter imbecile of a brother living with him, driving him slowly to despair...

The usual crowd were there, and we all greeted each other warmly. We got on well and everyone was really nice. Dave kept quiet, which surprised me. I suppose I should have been suspicious but at the time I thought maybe he was just shy around groups of people or maybe, just maybe, he was actually in an environment where he would he would behave himself.

He actually seemed introverted. He didn’t push himself to be introduced and although he attracted a few curious glances from the class I didn’t push him forward, partly out of consideration for him but mainly out of dread.

Geoff, who led the class, came breezing through the door, all chirpy and excited as usual. He was an English teacher and somewhat excitable. There seemed to be fireworks going off in his head all the time, if you know what I mean. He never looked anything but scruffy and always wore the same olive green tweed jacket.

“Evening, evening,” he said to the class. He sounded as enthusiastic as ever; I think he genuinely enjoyed running the course. “How is everyone tonight?” We murmured our replies back as he sat on his desk, crossing his legs and clasping his hands on his knee.

“So class, the theme for today was revenge. Who wants to go first and tell us what they have got?”

Dave stood up instantly. I inwardly shuddered. Oh God please no, I thought.

“Ah…” said Geoff, leaping forward and proffering a hand out to Dave. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“We haven’t,” Dave said in his usual dry tone. “I’m Martin’s brother.”

“Oh, excellent, excellent,” Geoff beamed. “How lovely. I didn’t realise Martin had a brother...” He left a pause, waiting for Dave to offer his name. Dave smiled.

“Gunter,” he said. A flicker of surprise ran over Geoff’s face, but he quickly replaced it with a broad smile.

“Welcome to the group, Gunter,” he said warmly. “I’m guessing you don’t have anything prepared...”

“Oh, no, I do,” Dave answered. “Martin told me about it so I came up with something.” That was an utter lie. I had deliberately said nothing about what we had been asked to do precisely to avoid this sort of thing. It seemed to have made no difference.

“That’s wonderful,” Geoff said, clearly excited to have such an enthusiastic new member in his group. “Would you like to tell us what you have?”

“Sure, replied Dave. “My story is about a child seeking revenge on the father who sexually abuses him.” Geoff nodded in appreciation.

“A powerful subject matter, he said. “ What made you choose that?”

“I dunno,” Dave answered. “I thought it was funny.”

“Funny?” Geoff asked, his chirpiness dipping down a level. “You wrote it as a comedy?”

“Yeah, there’s not enough paedophile based comedy out there if you ask me.”

“Most people don’t find it that funny, Gunter,” Geoff remarked. The warmth had evaporated from his voice. I could feel everyone in the room looking between me and Dave with disapproving glares. I stared intently at the end of my pen wishing the moment would end.

“I like to see the positives in every situation,” Dave carried on blithely.

“Right…” Geoff said, looking to me. “Martin, why don’t you tell us what you have?”

“Don’t you want to know what happens?” Dave asked bluntly.

“I’m not sure it’s something we need to share right now,” Geoff answered slightly tersely. Dave completely ignored him and started to talk, obviously enjoying the attention. He looked around as he talked, making sure he took in everyone’s reaction.

“The boy has been abused for years, as long as he can remember. He’s living a nightmare; he can’t remember the last night he slept through the night without the fear of waking as his dad sneaks into his room to slip him his pork sword.” A communal intake of breath sounded around the room. I couldn’t look but I knew everyone was appalled. I closed my eyes, feeling my face burn. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me up. Instant death would have been welcome at that moment, but it steadfastly refused to put in an appearance.

“Okay, thanks Gunter,” Geoff said, trying to stop him but Dave ploughed on regardless.

“Then one day, he snaps and shoots his dad dead with a pistol.” There was silence from the group for a moment, the Maggie, a middle aged bank clerk, raises her hand.

“Where did he get the gun from?” she asked Dave. Don’t bloody encourage him! I screamed at her in my head, but it was too late. Dave was clearly on a roll.

“eBay,” he replied, happy at getting a reaction.

“Oh, Jesus,” I breathed.

“Thank you, Gunter, it’s certainly creative,” Geoff said, bravely trying to stop him. Once again it went over Dave’s head.

“I came up with a couple of titles,” he continued, looking at Geoff. Geoff paused. I knew he was deciding if it was worth asking.

“What are they?” he said warily, after a few seconds. He had obviously decided that it would be easier to see the moment through and get it over with.

“The first one was ‘The Face in the Mirror’”, Dave said. After a second’s consideration I sensed a ripple of consent around the room. The group seemed to think that that was actually quite a good title. Dave picked up on this and continued. “It refers to the times when he would be in the bathroom and he could see his dad in the mirror watching him and lusting after him, and the fear that would induce.”

“Okay, that’s not a bad title really,” Geoff said, echoing the sentiment around the room.

“I prefer the other one myself,” Dave said. Like a fool, Geoff asked “And what is that one?”

“‘Daddy Kept Fucking Me So I Shot Him’”

“Why?” I said to Dave angrily as we walked down the steps of the library. “What makes do this stuff?” Dave laughed to himself.

“Did you see their faces?” he said, ignoring my question. “I wish I’d had a camera.”

“Dave, they were appalled. I was appalled. I can’t believe I agreed to take you. I must be the first person to ever be thrown out of a creative writing class.”

“Second,” Dave pointed out. “Gunter was the first.”

A smug and ill placed sense of self satisfaction...

Since moving to America, I've not really worked.  This wasn't really through choice at first - it took me a long time to get a green card, but since I got that late last year I've applied to a lot of companies and gotten nowhere.  I seem to be stuck in a middle ground, either over qualified to do entry level jobs or under qualified to do the stuff I know I can do.  So life has been rather frustrating and demoralizing of late.  I know eventually I'll land something but I'm having to try different things to make money.

One of those things is photography.  I'm just starting out as a professional photographer.  Photography is something I've done for a number of years, but I've really fallen by the wayside with it since moving to America.  My camera sat dormant for a long time, until I got the opportunity to get into wedding photography.  Last weekend, I shot my first wedding as a second photographer, assisting the guy who shot my wedding.

He's very good.

I'm not.

I'm really not, and that's just not false modesty.  I found it incredibly difficult.  I shot a lot of photos and most of them were crap, both from a technical and compositional point of view.  I was really disappointed, but I also learnt a lot from being so bad, about what to do and what not to do, if that makes sense.  I know that if I get another go, which I should, that I will be much much better next time around.  Most of the stuff I got that I was pleased with were the detail or incidental shots, but then as a second shooter I suppose that's what I was there for.  I reckon I got about a 30-35% hit rate, which is okay but I want to get 45%.

Most of the stuff I've shot previously has been still life or outdoors.  This was indoors in low light and I really struggled to catch things, especially when everything is happening so spontaneously.  I got better as the event went on, and it's kind of telling that my best shots all clumped around the end of the day.

In addition to this, I also drew my first money this week from selling microstock photos, which are just photos you sell the rights for online.  Seventy dollars from shooting still life shots.  I need to get into that more and sell some more of those.

As well as this, I've done a lot of writing.  In fact, right before I started writing this I reached 70,001 words to finish the first complete draft of my third novel.  There's a long way to take it before it's really completed, but I'm pretty pleased with it thus far.

Now for the tricky part.  In the next few weeks I'm going to put together some packages, consisting of a cover letter, a synopsis and three chapters of each of the stories I've written.  I'm then going to submit these to agents, publishers and maybe magazines to see if I can do something with my writing.

I really don't know how this will turn out.  It's pretty nerve-wracking even thinking about it.  Most likely, I will fall flat on my face and get nowhere, but I've reached the point where I don't want to see the chance of actually doing something worthwhile with my life slip by because I didn't have enough self belief.  If I'm able to move to America and marry a gorgeous blonde, how hard can it be to get a book published?

That's what I want to find out this year.  I'll let you know how it goes.