Who Else at Halloween, but Lovecraft, H.P. that is....

As many of you know, I was at Genrecon a few weeks ago, and I had the pleasure of being on a panel about H.P. Lovecraft.  For those of you who don't know who or what Lovecraft is about, shame on you, go to bed without your dinner.  Lovecraft, much like Poe, was a pioneer in horror, and like Poe, no one has really written like Lovecraft, nor has anyone ever been able to write an entire story that will scare the shit out of you like Lovecraft.  Yes King does in The Shining a bit, you have to read the book people, even though the movie with Jack Nicholson kicked fucking ass.  But the book was much better.
In analyzing Lovecraft, I have noticed that he writes in a particular style and often pulls a lot of real science into his writing, whether a novel or a short story (honestly I found his short stories to be far more amazing because he could build that suspense in so few words if needed).  One of these days, I mean to put some of his writing into analyzer, something I do with my own to see at what grade the reading level and comprehension is at.  I suspect it is quite high.  The style of writing is quite interesting in that the language used is neither Victorian, nor modern or even representative of any kind of style in the early 20th century; rather it seems to be more of a transition between old and new.  And that is part of the whole thing with Lovecraft, that lets him scare the shit out of you.
Lovecraft not only uses language, but uses your own imagination to scare the wits out of you, for most of us that is the scariest thing of all.  In his one novel, At the Mountains of Madness, you see the results of what has happened, you see the first person (in the stuff I read, he has only ever written in first person), and it is the anticipation of what is going to happen that gets you all scared.  There is this huge buildup in the book and I shit you not, that as a teenager, because of this build up, I put the book down and never looked at it again because I was too scared to read it, but have since finished it (earlier today, actually).  And the buildup can be really fast, as in some of his short stories, or really slow as in his longer ones.  But either way, when you reach the climax to see the terror that he is writing about, you often only see hints, and as such, you automatically use your own imagination to fill in the gaps.
Couple the buildup with the gaps in not seeing the actual terrors, with some real science, Lovecraft can almost make you feel like this shit is real and out there waiting for you.  That is the part that scared me the most.  One of the panelists from Genrecon remembers reading At the Mountains of Madness by candle light, in a power outage, in her bath tub.  Big regrets there for her she said.
So for Halloween, instead of putting on that shitty horror flick, turn out the lights get a flashlight and read some H.P. Lovecraft with your significant other and/or friends. It will prove to me a far more interesting evening for sure.

A Wicked Place Indeed

Sneak Peak - Anthology of the Guardians - Huntercats - Sneak Peak 2 of 4

Well here we are, a sneak peak at the second part of Huntercats, simply called Turtron.  In this part of Huntercats, we see what the overall effects of what happened in the first story have had on the Huntercat society.  I won't say much more, other than you get to meet a new character, Larissa, who goes on in my stories to have a big presence.

Turtron regained consciousness some time later, immediately noticing that he was lying on a cold, tiled floor. The vibrations coming through the floor were instantly familiar to him, and told Turtron that he was aboard a ship that was currently in flight.

Turtron hurt all over, and he could feel and smell blood drying in several places around his body, matting his fur together. He tasted more blood in his mouth, and realized that one of his sabers had been shattered. He cursed inwardly as it meant he would have to get the stump extracted when he got home, and have the growth of a new saber induced. Turtron groaned a little, thinking of the pain of the extraction procedure, always having felt that it hurt worse than any battle wound he had ever received. His wounds, and the stress of his capture had put his rut-lust at bay for now, but he knew that it would soon be back, and would eventually reach levels that would make him seriously ill if it were not properly relieved.

Turtron took in his surroundings, and saw that he was in a holding cell. He didn't kid himself that he had any chance to escape. Turtron knew full well that he would never get past the force field across the front of this cell. No, it was better to wait, and plan as best he could. Perhaps he would have the opportunity to escape, and kill his captors as soon as they made their first mistake. Until then, Turtron would carefully watch every move that they made. He didn't have to wait long until the first human approached the front of the cell.

A woman in the uniform of an Imperial First Lieutenant appeared at the front of the cell, and she spoke to him in the Huntercat tongue, which startled Turtron. The woman had longish red hair tied back in a bun, not a strand out of place, in order to conform to Imperial regulations with regards to hair length. Turtron also noticed that she had purple eyes, and a wide, honest-looking face with milk colored skin, and freckles splashed across her cheeks. She spoke quickly, saying Turtron's name first in Emvarian, and barely loud enough for Turtron to hear. The woman's voice was lightly accented, and the accent placed her as a high society Emvarian, as far as Turtron could tell. She then switched to the Huntercat tongue, and was surprisingly fluent in it.

"Turtron." He started a little that she knew his name, but she continued, and the seeming urgency of her words made him listen intently, "I spoke with Preacher, and I know what the situation is. I will do my best to help you escape. He’s given me orders on what to do and to get you out of here. He couldn’t come, something to do with another one of you.”

Turtron snarled a little, hearing the name of the human who had so recently humiliated him, but the woman held her index finger in front of her mouth, in a gesture Turtron understood was a human command to be silent. Turtron didn't make another sound. "Look, Canes is on his way here at this moment, and I can't do anything more right now. I think he is going to torture you. Please do your best to not let him get the best of you. And don't tell him anything!" At that moment, Canes turned the corner of the corridor, walking purposefully toward the cell. The woman quickly spoke to Canes, perhaps a little too loudly, "Sir, he has finally just come around. I believe that he should be ready for your interrogation at any time now."

"Very good, Lieutenant Larissa. Thank you for alerting me. Would you go and get our friend a little food, while I ask him a few simple questions? Raw meat is what they eat. There are plenty of Smiley's rations in the frozen stores. About five kilos should take care of it; I don’t want to be accused of starving the critter, especially when I’m sure he has lots of information for us." Canes gave an ugly smile. Larissa bowed her head, and said, "Very good, sir. I will be back momentarily."

Canes turned to Turtron with a bright smile, and Turtron snarled in return.  "Now now now. Let's not have any of that, shall we?" Canes spoke to Turtron in the Pruchovian tongue. "I am perfectly capable of having a nice, pleasant chat with anyone. Even a baby-killer such as yourself." Canes' voice hardened, and his eyes took on a brittle glint, like cheap rhinestones. He had mastered even more of the Pruchovian language over the last week, and he could now fluently render the hisses and spits of the angry words, and the curses, fully understanding the nuances of the most potent Pruchovian insults. He continued, his voice starting to take on the hisses, spits, and yowls of vulgar Pruchovian, which made him sound for all the world like an angry, fighting tomcat in an alley somewhere. “Coward, couldn’t do your own dirty work could you, you had to let one of your sub-dominants do all the killing, hmmm?” Canes said all this in Pruchovian, insulting Turtron in such a way that made it sound like his sub-dominant males were braver. “Allowed your underlings, your subdominants to do your dirty work. The best word for beings such as yourself in my tongue is simply coward,” Canes repeated, stressing the final word. “But, even cowardly beings deserve some civility, I suppose." Canes wiped a small trace of spit from the corner of his mouth that had formed while speaking, "So, let's get started, shall we?"

Turtron had remained silent, smoking in rage, raising a snarl only when Canes threw two of the unforgivable insults at him. Turtron understood torture and manipulation more than Canes realized.

Canes reached for a keypad, and punched in a short code, and the force field in front of the cell momentarily shut down, allowing him to enter. It re-formed behind him, and he moved towards Turtron, his eyes still glittering like cheap rhinestones, in a look that many, both friend and foe, in the future, would view with sheer terror. An exceedingly ugly smile formed on Canes' face, and he bit his lower lip without realizing it, causing two thin rills of blood to ooze onto his chin. Upon Canes’ entry, Turtron leapt to his feet with a snarling roar, and launched himself at Canes, ignoring the pain that shot through his body from his multiple injuries. Canes merely raised his hand, and Turtron flew backwards, slamming so hard against the back wall, that his body left a dent, and he could hear, and feel something inside his body crunch. Turtron let out a yowling scream, and tried to get to his feet again, finding that he couldn't do it. He would get his paws underneath him, but as soon as he tried to stand, he would fall to the floor again.

Canes slowly advanced, and said, "That's right. You want to kill me, Turtron, don't you? Well, here’s your chance. I have no weapons, and a big, strong, dominant male such as yourself should easily be able to split a filthy, hairless ape, such as myself open like a pea pod. But wait, what’s holding you back? Coward!” Canes yelled the final word.

Why I Like the Trailer Park Boys

In Canada in the 2000s, there was a show produced up here called The Trailer Park Boys.  I was thinking back to this show as I watched the complete mindfuck that the three guys who starred in this created after Trailer Park Boys ended.
The gist of the plot is that there is a documentary crew following around Julian, Ricky and Bubbles, catching all their exploits on video, including all of the crime that they do.  It is set in a Trailer Park out in Eastern Canada called Sunnyvale Trailer Park. 
One of the reasons I really liked this show is because of the total absurdity of it all (kind of like the Toilet Gnome).  They always have some scheme on the go, whether it be Freedom 35, selling gas in the Trailer Park, growing dope to just name a few.

This series gave rise to such memorable characters as Julian, who always had a rum and coke everywhere they went, even if in a car, or the best one was when they flipped their car, he still had the rum and coke getting out of the car.
Then there was Ricky, the ever loving dumbass, the guy who could grow pot like there is no tomorrow, and smokes like crazy.And of course Ricky can never say words properly.
Then there is Bubbles, the dude with the thick coke bottle glasses who is just, at first glance, one of the innocents around, but later ends up in jail with the rest of them.  He also has around 2000 cats and lives in a shed.

Here are some highlights:

1.  The Rush episode - this is  a classic.  Bubbles wants to go to the Rush concert, so Ricky and Julian try to help him get tickets, but they are beaten to it by the shows antagonist - Randy and Mr. Lahey.  So as the show progresses, Ricky kidnaps Alex Lifeson and brings him to the trailer park for Bubbles, but is then forced to take him back to the arena for the show.  They try to sneak in and lose their duffel bag of pot, at which point Alex smokes it.  A must to see.

2. The Steve French Episode - Something is destroying the boys' pot out in the field, so they set a trap and catch a stoned cougar they call Steve French.  As it is a large kitty, Bubbles decides to take it in to rehabilitate it and get it off the weed.  Well at some point, the cougar gets loose in the park, eats Randy and Mr. Lahey's burgers, which are laced with viagra, and they ultimately return Steve to the wild, where bubbles is told:  If you release him and he comes back, he is yours.

3. The Rita McNeil Episode - A classic of course, the boys are forced to quickly pick their last field of pot because the cops already destroyed all the others, and they hijack a bus, but it is no ordinary  bus, it is Rita McNeil's bus (Ok for those of you outside of Canada, this is probably lost on you, but Rita was big as a fucking bus and quite famous until she died of a heart attack) and put this canadian star to work, with all her staff on the bus, picking their pot.

4. The Conky Episode - Bubbles has a tooth ache and needs to get the tooth pulled, trouble is that he is afraid to go to the dentist.  Years ago in high school, Bubbles had a puppet called Conky, which literally channeled pure evil out of the harmless Bubbles.  Julian and Ricky decide they must retrieve Conky, and it doesn't take long for the evil to come out. Highlights include Ricky getting stuff super glued to him on his body, such as a rag, a model trailer from a truck, and getting high from it.  he tries to shoot Conky, but gets distracted by the H.S. Thompson bats.  It ends up at the vets in a small shoot out where the vet pulls Bubble's bad tooth.  Of course I would be remiss without a Youtube Link here.

There are more episodes I could put here, but you must just experience this series for yourself.  You can catch all their stuff at Swearnet!!

Go Watch It!!

The Stupidity Surrounding Ebola

Ok, so what the fuck is up with all the stupidity surround Ebola these days?  And by this, I mean how easily it has now spread to the United States.  This should've never happened, and given the recent research into the Spanish Flu of 1918 to 1920 that infected 500 million and killed between ten to twenty percent of those that got it.  Quite honestly, we haven't learned jack shit from that epidemic, and here we are, nearly 100 years later, seeing an epidemic once again, this time with something that literally ends up with you shitting, puking and coughing up your internal organs.  I can remember reading a book years ago that talked about Ebola, back when we knew so little about it, and how careful they were then.  It seems to me that politics are getting in the way.
I don't mind that people here from North America are going over to the infected countries to help them, but why in the fuck are getting round trip tickets?  How fucking stupid are our governments?  Quite honestly, the thing to do is give these people a one way ticket, and when they want to return, 30 days in quarantine over there where they are before they are allowed to even apply for a plane ticket home.  It is not even a 101 university course that with diseases like this, you have a quarantine on the way out in that area, not half way around the world, where in between you can expose a plane load of people to this infectious disease, and so starts the spread of a disease.  Think about a plane load of people, say 300, each comes into contact with 5 people while in the airport, then say each of those people come into another 5 people each, it doesn't take long to have this one plane load of people directly and indirectly in contact with thousands of people and in theory spread the disease.  It even gets worse when an illegal immigrant gets exposed and cannot be tracked.  Try playing the Plague game people.
But the stupidity doesn't end here.  People are coming back from treating patients with Ebola to the US and they aren't even being put in quarantine for the most part.  The guy who died down in Dallas and the debacle that has gone on with that, could've all been avoided if he was quarantined over in Africa.  But even if people were quarantined in the US upon coming back, it doesn't mean that it will help.  The case of the newscaster in point, who broke quarantine to go get a bowl of soup.  I can tell you, if I was watching that quarantine, a bullet to the head would've been the solution.  Just how fucking stupid is this woman?  It's not so bad if she only put herself at risk, but she put others at risk.  I hope there is a lawsuit out of this, given how everyone in the US wants to sue everyone else for something.  The one that takes the cake is the so-called doctor in New York who came back from treating patients, and while not feeling well, was out partying, which included bowling.  It is then discovered he is infected.  A quarantine would've caught this asshole, who by the way, should have his fucking license pulled if he even survives.  Of all the people who should know better, a physician worth his weight in salt, would've checked himself into a quarantine the moment he felt unwell in anyway.  This asshole, once again, needs his fucking license pulled and he should never be allowed to practice again. 
As of the writing of this piece, it is now being reported that some US states are going to quarantine health care workers coming back.  I am afraid it is too little too late and in the wrong place.  Ebola now has a foothold in the US, and unless Obama has the balls to step up and say fuck you to the politics and does what is right, the epidemic has already started and will not be contained and it is only a matter of time before it is out of hand and we, as Canadians, have to start shooting people at the border.

That's right I am coming for you, or my mutation will....

Genrecon, was it worth it??

OK, so now that I have a day down from being done with Genrecon, I would like to examine if it was worth it or not.  Overall for me, I sit somewhat over the fence on yes it was.  For me, the vendors that were around us were very awesome to talk to and learn from each other.  One told me about getting Canadian Council of Art Grants that hell I can try for, and the friends you make are more than worth it.  My sales were quite good in that I had the highest profit I have had at the three conventions I've been to (at ConBravo in Hamilton and FanExpo in Toronto, I just broke even).  The fact that I was on panels was a great joy, to be able to discuss H.P. Lovecraft with fans of him was awesome, the dialogue just kicked ass.  I will also extend my gratitude out to the staff of Genrecon, who were always courteous and willing to help, hell they even had undercover security going around the Marketplace.  It was very nice to attend a convention in the same city where I live.
But a few issues did bother me.  The first one is that quite often there were less than 10 people going through the room, the rest of it vendors in there quite alone.  I know that there were vendors that didn't make their tables in good part because of the low traffic we suffered throughout the convention.  At one point I suggested to the guys I shared the table with that we get up and to the YMCA or the Timewarp (We should've guys, I bet we would've attracted a lot of attention).  The reason for the low traffic might simply have been the lack of advertizing.  Guelph has two papers you can advertize in, the first one being the Tribune that most people receive for free, while there is also the Guelph Mercury.  I saw no advertizing whatsoever of Genrecon in any of these papers, so I can only assume that people showed up via word of mouth.   Also, being next to the university, there are two papers there that it could be advertized in on campus, the Ontarion and the Peak. Hell, some of the panels I sat on had the panelists outnumber the attendees.  I would've thought that the topic of the Star Wars I-III would've filled the room, but it didn't.
Timing of the event too is not the best if Genrecon is to take advantage of the university crowed, for they are in the midst of midterms.  This is something that is likely not to be solved, but one has to wonder about moving towards the weekend before Thanksgiving or one week later just might make a difference, although then we are closer to Halloween, but Genrecon could take full advantage of that.
Another thing lacking was the absence of celebrities.  Unlike ConBravo and FanExpo, there were really no big names.  I don't know how hard it is to attract big names to Guelph, for I've never tried.
Now to the planners of Genrecon.  I don't want to make it sound like I am just complaining, because I am not.  One of the things as an author is being able to look at criticism and deem if it is constructive or not.  As being an author is my night job, I have no doubt that all of you did this outside of your regular life, and no doubt bit into your regular life, and I know it is damned tough to plan an event and often tough decisions are made.  I appreciate all the effort that went into getting this thing off the ground.  Overall, I feel you did a good job, but if Genrecon is going to survive and go to the next level, the items above need to be addressed.  I know I will certainly come back next year to sell stuff, but for the vendors, it would be good to try and expand the number and get more traffic through the market place, which could be done via advertizing.  I am not going to sit here and point out all this stuff without offering help in this.  For the advertizing, we have a group of local authors, why not take advantage of this?  Get us to write some nifty ads.  That would be a start I think.  As for getting celebrities, not sure how that would work, but we can probably figure that out too.  I would be happy to give what time I can to help all of you in getting ready for next year's Genrecon and I can probably scare a few others to help as well.  I would very much like Genrecon to grow and be viable and for this it has to evolve.  You can contact me at dundass@alexanderdundass.ca if you wish.  

My booth at Genrecon!!

The Third and Final Day of Genrecon...dah dah daaaahhhhh

Well, it was a bit of a surprise today at Genrecon.  Vader's 501st showed up and I almost got shot telling them they were a little short for storm troopers, and that at least he wouldn't hit his head going through the door.  For the first time ever, people that said they would come back to get books, actually did it.  Sales were good, the percentage of people I talked to who bought books was quite high, and all in all, I was pleased with today.
We had a good time, and Scott at the bar makes the best gin and tonics, man oh man, you kept me going buddy.
There were many of the cosplayers as well, the usual ones, coming through in different costumes.  I am always amazed at the amount of time and effort they put into these costumes, and so many of them are just awesome. 
Well, not much to say, but I will be doing an overall blog about the cons I have been to and what I am thinking of doing. 
Just a big thanks to Ryan Toxopeus, you made the days so much fun, and your daughter was kickass as Darth Vader.  And to Luke from Vocamus, man the three of us made our table the most exciting of them all.

Yes I had the books you are looking for...

Second Day at Genrecon

Second day at Genrecon was much better for sales, hell I made the table back and am in profits, but many are not.  Much like I saw at FanExpo, there seems to be a lot of people going around just wandering and not buying, and the crowds there are small in my opinion, much likely due to the lack of advertizing for this show.
The panels have been interesting to say the least, the ones on which I have been a panelist.  The one on so you are publishing was quite good in that there were three of us doing it all differently.  One was actually accepted by a publisher and is going that way, and he is not entirely happy about how the process have been going in that they forced an artist upon him that didn't necessarily do all that good of a job in a few aspects on the cover.  The second person opened up her own publishing company, and that is going well, but much like everything, it is a slow buildup, but it is coming along.  I think this particular author will do well, as will the other one, but such is life.
The panel on the great Star Wars Episodes 1 to 3 was quite hilarious, in that one of the panelists was quite rabid to say the least, hell I am surprised no one actually jumped over the table at him.  I am not even sure he actually breathed at all during the time we were in there.  I have heard of fans like this, but man, to finally meet one, puts a lot in perspective.
I am glad I that I am sharing the table with a great bunch of people.  Ryan Toxopeus, a really awesome fantasy writer, Luke from Vocamus, Matt Payne; you can find easily in the market place because we are always animated quite a bit and attract attention.
I also want to give a yell out to my friend the bartender at the Holiday Inn, I must get his name, for not only pouring the drinks when needed, but coming by and visiting the table.  And to a few ladies who bought my book, I look forward to you coming back to discuss what you read last night.
Not much else to say here, as things are slow.
Alas no convenient pictures right now, I will make up for it in the next blog post.

First Day of Genrecon

Well the first day of Genrecon is behind me, and I made the dreaded first sale as I call it, that that first one to get the ball rolling.  I was a panelist for two panels last night, one was on defanging evil guys, and my overall impression really from what was discussed is that authors defang their bad guys cause it is the easy way out.  It can be quite tough to keep the evil flowing from my experience.  But it also comes down to timing on another note because how much do you reveal about characters at a time, and does any of that affect what and who they are.  Episodes 1-3 of Star Wars entirely defangs Vader, even though he is a bad ass in Episode IV.
The second panel was on Lovecraft and was much more relaxed, and it was interesting to just go through and talk about what makes Lovecraft, Lovecraft.  From style of writing, to how he always in all his stories gets the hair up on the back of your neck.  It was quite a good discussion.  Well off to prepare for Day 2.

Me at Genrecon

My Writing Process - Part 7 - Marketing

Marketing has been a big pain in the ass in my opinion for my books, trying to get them out there and to be seen.  I do have some regular reviews, and thanks for that.  I do have options, but it all costs money I do not have right now.  Lulu offers marketing packages, not sure how well they do for an author as I don't have any testimonials, but in the meantime, what I do is free.
First off, I write this blog, where I have been discussing over time, the process of my writing, putting up sneak peaks, and then posting it all over Facebook.  But even keeping people interested in the blog is difficult, and well I need to get all loopy sometime.  I will have something like that coming up soon.
Facebook is a whole other matter as they are just a pain for the most part, the administration that is.  But I can buy some ads quite cheaply there, but then there is the time to design the damned page.  Not to top it off, if you share with too many people, they just get pissed with you.
Amazon is a beast with respect to authors and I don't like dealing with them.  I only put stuff up on it because it is free advertizing.  I can enroll in their special program, but then that limits where I can sell the book.  With Lulu, I at least have more options for print books (I can get the pocket books made, which are most popular at Lulu, but other places are no way), but the pocket books are only advertized on Lulu.  For other books to get out and be listed, I have created 2 versions, one hardcover, 1 softcover and that gets me two slots in the listings around the bookstores.
Of course there is my website, where I do update regularly, and have even set up my own digital store so that as soon as you give me your money, you get a file delivered to you.  It also allows me to instantly have sales on ebooks.
But in discussion with another author the other night, it is apparent it is tough to market.  I have now extended into Twitter (@alexdundass) and do my best to interact on Facebook, but it is damned tough to find the time to properly do it.  I don't want to just be on there advertising, but doing this social media could turn into a full time thing.
The final thing, that is costing me money, but I am making it back, is going to conventions.  I have been to 2 cosplay conventions and have sold stuff, and coming up this weekend is my first sci-fi convention, Genrecon.  This gives me a public face, and lets me meet some fans.  
Well outside of saying marketing is tough, above is what I am doing that is not costing me anything right now at the end of the day, and one has to be patient in waiting for the big break.  Because quite simply no one said this would be easy.

It is an uphill battle...

That One Scene....

Many stories have been based on one scene, a scene that gets stuck in your head such that it just circles around in there, driving you insane as you replay it over and over into perfection.  Yes I have had that more than once, hell I am dealing with one right now that is being quite insistent I do something with it. It is quite often that one little scene can lead to an entire book.  The Triumvirate Chronicles honestly started this way, a few scenes stuck in my head for years that ended up as an entire series.  Now that series isn't what I originally imagined, but then no book ever really turns out to be what an author expects I think.  I often treat my books as a living document, which is a term that comes from the GMP world where documents rule how you deal with pharmaceuticals.  The reason I call my books a living document is because my books, and stories are always evolving right up to the final cut.
But not only do I get stuck with scenes in my head, but I've also had dreams (especially after that voodoo gin I drank once).  And with dreams, they are tricky for me, because do I go along for the ride or do I take control of the dream and go where I want it to go?  That is not the  biggest problem with dreams, the biggest problem is that unless you have written down right after waking up, you tend to forget whatever it is you were dreaming, or you remember just that one little scene that haunts you for a couple days.  It then becomes a challenge to just get something written from that, and you never know if it was what the full dream was.
I guess the point of this rambling entry is more or less, the ideas for stories come from many places, and none of them should be dismissed.  Some people are lucky in that they can just sit down and sketch out a story, do all the planning, then go ahead and write it.  That is not for me, often I have quite literally a very small outline in my mind of what the story is and I just sit down and write it.  It is not often where I have a dream that impacts me so much that I must write a story on it.  And that happened to me recently, and indirectly that dream left me with an image in my head, and that image is the last scene of the story.  What is this scene?  Well I am not going to tell you because it is going to take me away from my regular genre of writing into something entirely different for me.  You will have to wait and see, for how long, I don't know.

I had a dream, crazy dream...

Why Immortals?

Over the years white writing, I have had many comments from different people about my plots, some along the lines of this:  instead of writing about the Admirals, why don't you write a story about a Captain and single ship in the war (ummm this is called Star Trek), your ship sizes are all wrong as a US Naval Destroyer is not the largest ship whereas your destroyers are the biggest, sorry wrong (ummm no, this story does not happen in the US or on Earth at this point).  Those are just some of the things that I have encountered, and others are just so out there, it is not worth mentioning them.
I haven't had too many comments on immortals.  I know that Desperation truly doesn't get across that The Triumvirate Chronicles is really about immortals, but hey, I can't release all to be said at once, and perhaps that is one part where maybe I can be faulted.  But that being said, the story was not initially about immortals, it was a story of the mortals with a few immortals helping out.  Then one day I got thinking about Isaac Asmiov's book series, the three of them and their interconnections.  Savage was originally only 5000 years old, but I had made reference to an old, long forgotten Empire (akin to Earth being a legend in The Foundation Series).  Then while stalled on part of the story, a short story called Creation, which morphed into Genesis appeared.  And before I knew it, I had written the story that blew the whole thing wide open on actual plot lines that I wanted, and the story became about immortals, with the daily lives of mortal intertwined.  It was then I figured I had something:  tell a story about immortals.  Now the challenges about this are many because now I am dealing with the fragile human mind being over 100 000 years old.  What effects does that age on the mind?  I am still working on that, but suffice to say, I succeeded with Lons and Skardo, making them really bad.  But there were 20 mortals turned immortal originally and we only see a handful of them in Desperation.  That is because some, well you will have to read the books.   
But you see, immortals have given me an opportunity to take things to a new level, a level that humans weren't really meant to realistically deal with.  It is like our pets now, cats are easily living over 20 years old, and as a result, we are seeing diseases and changes in them that no one has ever seen.  I get to use my imagination on how would a mass murderer be, a sociopath, a psychopath be after living for so long.  It also lets me take a look at what makes them tick.  In other words, I have to use my full out imagination, and that therein lies the challenge.  For a lot of my writing, I look at my 42 years and how I have changed and extrapolate that, multiply by 100, divide by 1.4 for correction, then add on some quirky things in them and voila, I have immortals that are really old. 
But for the most part, using immortals lets me take pot shots on society as there are certainly lots of morons out there in the world (just look at the news), and it gives me ammunition all the time.  You can see them just roll their eyes as history repeats itself.  But it allows me to get across the boredom that many of them must feel, for in an extended lifetime, I am sure that many of them can truly claim that they have seen it all.  In some ways I paint immortality as a curse; and I know in many ways I would. 
Well this is all for today, time to get to work on some stuff for Genrecon.

Into the unknown.......with the exception of cats

Sneak Peak - Anthology of the Guardians - Huntercats - 1 of 4

Alright, the next piece coming out is going to be the next installment of the Anthology of the Guardian series.  It will be entitled Huntercats and is split into 4 parts:  Preacher, Turtron, Vruta and Canes.  This story is quite unique amongst all of my stories, and it took one hell of a lot of building up a society and figuring out how it all came together.  I hope to do this for some of the other alien species that are present in my Anthology Series.  This piece is also unique in that all 4 parts are co-authored by a friend of mine, Mr. Trevor Patrick. We go back aways, and normally he didn't like the kind of science fiction I wrote, but this story intrigued him a lot (this would be the first time of many to say the least).  This was the first piece of mine he read as Trevor has done extensive research into large cats and well, I based a lot of the Pruchock society on cat behavior and I gave it to him for his opinion, and then he surprised me by returning edits and significant additions to it, and wrote Turtron and Vruta as a response.  It would be a few years later that I wrote the one called Canes and well it is coming together here.  So here is the first of 4 sneak peaks on Huntercats.  This is from Preacher.   This scene is part of the scene where Preacher meets the High Priestess of the Huntercats:  Vruta.

Preacher decided it was time to gamble. “No need to call it in, I did that,” he said in the Pruchock’s language, making it her turn to be surprised. Until now, translation had always been done by insertion of a chip in his ear, but now the game was changed. By reaching out to all the crew aboard the ship while showering, Preacher had managed to learn the Pruchock language, but speaking it was a different challenge. Chalk one up for Doc, he thought.

“Where did you learn my language?” she asked Preacher.

“I’m a quick learner,” he said truthfully. “I’ve been listening to it for the past how many days, whether here or on the planet. Am I to assume that those are our supper?” he asked, changing the subject and pointing to the dead animals.

“Yes,” the female said, now lapsing comfortably into her own tongue with Preacher. She deftly gutted the animals, leaving the carcasses for Preacher, while keeping some of the internal organs for herself. “I hope this is fine. I believe you do not eat these?” she said, pointing to the organs. Preacher nodded and reached for the carcasses, throwing one into the fire. The Pruchock instantly jumped up and reached into the fire with a stick, retrieving the kill.

“What is this?" she demanded, referring to the smoking carcass. "To burn good meat is wrong!" Preacher, taken aback by this, was not sure how to answer.

“Where I come from, we cook our meat. For one thing, it tastes a hell of a lot better to us, and kills many of the harmful microbes. Our bodies require food that has some processing attached to it. We lost our ability to eat wild food like you do a very long time ago.” Preacher could see she was considering his words carefully. “Look, let’s start off right. My name, err what I am called by these days, is Preacher. What is yours?”

“I am Vruta," she replied, pointing to herself. Preacher did a quick translation and found it meant slayer of something he could not translate into any language. Preacher stared back down at the carcasses, considering what he would do about dinner.

“What is your real name?”

Preacher was taken aback, not sure how to respond. “My real name is Jace Joran. I had to change it recently to Preacher.” He looked at the carcass and made a decision. “Tell you what, I’ll eat this raw, if you will eat some of it cooked, just to help us understand each other maybe.” Preacher could not help himself; the anthropologist part of him had been awakened again, eager to study the Pruchocks, while he had a chance. With Doc preparing to make the second group of Guardians now, he knew that this may be the only opportunity to study an alien culture and come to understand it, before it was destroyed. And perhaps put a bullet into these warriors and remove them from the war.

Vruta, unsure of herself, wrinkled her nose and threw the carcass back into the fire. Preacher, keeping his end of the bargain, picked up one of the animals and bit into the exposed flesh where Vruta had opened it up. To his surprise, it was not revolting, but rather it was a sweet meat that was very pleasant. “This is really good, no wonder you eat it this way,” he said to Vruta, hoping to make some head way with her.

“I am glad you like it,” she responded. They sat in silence for fifteen minutes, Vruta, fishing out the carcass and tasting it. Vruta made a sound of disgust, and said, "How can you eat burned meat? It tastes like carbon and ash." She wrinkled her nose and Preacher began to laugh. He never thought he would see a Pruchock wrinkle its nose. She playfully tossed it at him and he took a bite. His face must have been just as funny as Vruta began to snort, which must have been laughter.

“You know, you’re right, it's much better off uncooked. This is a piece of shit,” said Preacher, throwing the carcass aside, finding it almost tasteless. Vruta stopped laughing and glared at him.

“We do not waste here, you must eat it. To waste is to ignore our sacred laws,” Vruta informed Preacher.

Preacher made a note to try to learn more about the sacred laws as he picked up the meat and began to eat it. I better not piss them off too much, not until I can guarantee a way to get out of here, he thought, and a way around that dampening field. Both of them ate in silence for the rest of the meal, Preacher more interested in eating to get his energy up, or to at least keep that appearance. Besides, he did find the raw meat quite good to eat. When they were both done, Vruta started up the conversation again.

“We do not normally talk during eating,” began Vruta.

“That’s ok, I was too hungry to talk anyway,” replied Preacher. “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

“After you answer some of mine,” said Vruta. In an instant, she leapt and knocked Preacher over onto the ground and pinned him there. “When did you humans ally with the ones you call Oools? Your body is full of their parts.” The husky whisper of Vruta’s voice returned, and as she stood over Preacher, he could feel the raw power emanating from her.  Combined with the erotic pheromones that were starting to come off of her in waves, Preacher was in a euphoric state. Yet at the moment she radiated far more danger than eroticism.

“I know nothing of that,” said Preacher, using his powers to push Vruta off of him. He was damned if he was going to let her get away with this. Vruta landed on the other side of the fire, but got up instantly and faced Preacher.

“You lie to me,” concluded Vruta, who attacked yet again. She charged Preacher, who side stepped, but without knowing how, he was tripped to the ground. Vruta recovered and pounced onto Preacher, holding her claws to his throat. “Tell me the truth, or I will kill you now.”

Preacher had wondered where the parts for their transformation came from, and perhaps it was part of the strategy to win the war: use the aliens’ own technology against them and then let then think they were betrayed from within.

“Look I’ve no idea what the hell you’re talking about,” he said. "The knowledge about the technology that created us is something that none of us were privy to." Vruta looked somewhat confused at that, but Preacher tried to simplify things, "Those of us who were changed were simply told what to do. We only followed our orders. Those who changed us told us almost nothing useful about what was done to our bodies, apart from what sort of abilities we could expect. And they told us absolutely nothing about where the technology came from. That’s the truth, take it or leave it.” Preacher started at Vruta, eye to eye, before continuing. “We were deliberately told very little for the very reason I am faced with right now. If we knew little or nothing about the technologies, we couldn’t tell anyone about them if we were captured, now could we?” Vruta glared at Preacher, her eyes glowing, her friendly and erotic interactions with him earlier had now almost totally been replaced with angry malevolence.

"I still think you lie," she finally said, but it sounded as if she didn't really believe her own words. Preacher was a little exasperated at all of this, and what he said next turned out to be a mistake.

“I could hurt you real bad right now, but I’d rather not…" Preacher never got to finish his sentence, as Vruta's response to the first part of it was as quick as lightning. Preacher's new powers gave him the ability to anticipate, and stop any attack a human could try against him; indeed, Preacher had the ability to totally take over another person's mind if he had to, turning them into little more than a puppet if he chose. But nothing in his training could’ve prepared him for the sheer swiftness of Vruta's response to him, coming like a lightning bolt out of a blue sky. Preacher was about to learn a very hard lesson, and his mistake at misjudging Vruta's own abilities was something he was unlikely to ever repeat.

Vruta's eyes blazed at him as soon as Preacher said the words hurt you, and she was instantly on him. Preacher had no time to detect any untoward thought from her, nor did he see her tense up for her leap. Preacher was incredibly fast in his own response, nevertheless, Vruta was just a little faster. Her claws dug into his naked belly, blood spurting around her claws. Preacher yelped in surprise, and pain, and tried to throw Vruta off, but she dug her claws in further, and because of their shape, the harder Preacher tried to shove her off, the deeper her claws dug in, bringing him searing pain.

"Do NOT ever threaten me, hairless human!" Vruta hissed and spat at Preacher. Preacher grunted in pain, and tried to use his powers to push Vruta off. However, her claws dug in still deeper, and she prepared to plunge her sabers into his throat. Still too stunned to properly use the full extent of his powers, Preacher did what his instincts directed him to do. He threw his body forward, knocking Vruta onto her back, and landing on top of her. She used her back claws to rake agonizing, bloody furrows into Preacher's calves and thighs, coming perilously close to his genitals. Preacher acted without thinking, and he placed his hands around Vruta's neck, starting to choke the life out of her.