To make up for last weeks absence and the general neglect I have been showing you all, I have created a short story. Hopefully the first of many to come. If you look in the top nav bar, you will notice a new link has appeared called “Shorts”. This is where I will be archiving these stories so keep checking back.
Today, for the first time in almost a year, I returned to one of my favorite writing holes; Sugar House Coffee in Salt Lake City. I was there meeting up with an old writing buddy who I had not seen in a long time. Naturally with so much catching up to do we didn’t get much writing done, which was not helped by me forgetting to copy the latest version of Dead Beat to my laptop (oops). Being fine purveyors of caffeinated beverages I decided to see if they had anything new on their menu. And there it was; The Cuban Revolver. The six espresso shot demon that would become my undoing. It all started with a harmless comment on Twitter:
“OMG I just notice they have something here called a Cuban Revolver. 6 shots of espresso in that bad boy :D. Dare I try it?”
Those last four words followed by a question mark, that’s where I made my first mistake. I didn’t really expect a response but I got one anyway from friend and fellow writer @winnie3k (who you should all start following right now). Her response:
“For all of our sakes, YES, drink the Cuban Revolver! I want a full report, please!”
Well being a true British gentleman I could hardly turn down such a heartfelt request now could I?!
So off I go to order my 16 oz Cuban Revolver. While it was being made I was talking with my barista. General conversation; You know, the creative atmosphere, how the area was loosing it’s bohemian charm, the dangers of Wal-Mart, that short of thing. While we spoke she mentioned that she had once tried this demonic drink herself. “I ended up awake until 4 in the morning” she said, a wicked glint in her eye.
No upon hearing this you would think that I would have had second thoughts right? Well no not me.
And why?
Because I’m an idiot. There, I said it.
Anyway, back to the story. My prize in hand I returned to the table. Over the course of the next half hour I slowly nursed the Cuban, the whole time blissfully unaware of the witchcraft that was coursing it’s way through my veins. I didn’t really feel the effects until a little while later. I noticed a little shaking and a sudden alertness to everything around me. It was not long before a certain degree of paranoia started to make itself at home (did you hear that?). This is not a pleasant feeling and certainly not conducive to a creative atmosphere. The live folk band wasn’t helping too much either. (My day really has been one big cliché hasn’t it?). By the time I arrive home I am in full temperamental, paranoid writer mode (how long has that van been there?). I’ve been trying every remedy I can think off…short of fresh air and exercise of course.
Well things are finally starting to settle down now. Now being several hours later with the lights turned out (if I leave them on, THEY will know I’m here). It was great coffee though. And for those of you with stronger coffee handling skills than me, the Cuban Revolver is a worthy opponent. Nice to catch up with an old friend as well. However I think I’ll be sticking to the Shar-gra-lattes from now on
It’s been about two weeks since my last posting and for that I throw myself upon your mercy. I do have a good reason though. My wife has recently become the student President of the University of Utah chapter of Engineers Without Borders. What had begun as me helping out in a professional capacity as a computer wiz, somehow evolved into me being made the chief PR officer. Oh and webmaster. And guy in charge of mailing lists….Basically all of the nerdy behind the scenes stuff. My own fault for touting the flexibility and ease of use of Blogger.
So here I am, two weeks later, facing what might be my biggest challenge yet as a writer. I’ve never done any PR stuff before. It’s certainly going to take me out of my comfort zone of fictional writing. But that’s definitely a good thing. I see it as an opportunity for practice at gauging an audience. That’s something I don’t think about too much when I’m writing normally. I know that’s bad form but I generally approach my works with the attitude that I’m writing for myself. That might sound egotistical and probably is, but I have found that I’m much more critical of my work than friends and family.
Anyway that’s where I have been for the past two weeks. Now that the lions share of the set up for the new website is done I can get back to writing again. BY the way if anyone is interested in learning more about Engineers without borders, I’ve put a couple of links at the bottom of this entry.
A very happy Towel Day to you all.
For those of you who have no idea what I’m talking about, check out TowelDay.org
This is a tribute to the late Douglas Adams; author of such classics as The Hitch Hikers Guide to the Galaxy.
As the man says
“A towel, it says, is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker can have.
So, don’t forget to bring a towel.
I’m well know for complaining about how us Brits always seem to be portrayed as the villain by Hollywood. I pretty much refuse to watch any more remakes of Robin Hood until they cast and actual British actor in the lead role. Come on Hollywood, he’s our guy. (At least their getting a little closer with Russell Crowe)
So there I was, ploughing through Dead Beat with Rob Zombie blaring through the house from my computer speakers, when all of a sudden I made the shocking discovery of having and empty tea mug. In a movement reminiscent of ALL of the slow motion fight scenes in 300, I grabbed the empty beverage receptacle (The cool one with the pirate flag on it) and gracefully vaulted over my desk. The mug still in my hand, I made my final run towards the kitchen. My goal was in sight and victory in my grasp when the fates sent one of their minions to stop me.
“CHIHUAHUA” I screamed
My Ninja Writer reflexes,taught to me by the Writer Ninja monks of Southern New England), instantly took over and I thrust my body in to the air. I looked down on my adversary as I flew overhead. My body was almost at then end of the somersault when I was able to put the mug safely on the counter AND turn on the kettle as momentum drew me forward. Both tasks completed, I landed on the kitchen floor, on both feet, in a pose that has only ever before been accomplished by the love child of Jackie Chan and Chuck Norris.
(Now wasn’t that way more interesting than me saying “I got up and made myself a cup of tea”?)
And what response do I get from the other residents of the kitchen?
“Do you really write to that music?” from the mother-in-law
After all that, after all the slow-mo awesomeness that took me a good five minutes to make up you ask me how I can write when listening to Rob Zombie?
I think I replied with some BS about RZ being an artist and needing to immerse myself in another artists work to stimulate my creative…yadda yadda yadda. I mean is it weird to listen to something like Rob Zombie? I don’t think so but then I’m hardly subjective. Personally I find the music I listen to will change depending on mood and what I am writing at the time. SO how about you guys? What are your musical preferences when writing?
You have all been patient and the time has come for that patience to be rewarded. At long last, here is a little teaser from the prologue to Dead Beat: Awakening. Enjoy, and as always all criticisms are welcomed.
“The entire staging area was bathed in a bright green light as the power buildup continued. Salem had to shield his eyes as he fought his way across the concrete floor. The atmosphere in the chamber was so alive with energy that it made every nerve in his body tingle. Salem tried to ignore the strange sensation as he focused on getting to the controls at the opposite end of the chamber. When he finally reached the large red box that housed the cut off controls his heart sank. It was padlocked shut. Quickly he began looking around for something to pry it open. Something long and metallic caught his eye. It was the object that the intruder had used to smash the organo-capacitor. Salem surmised that it must have been blown clear when the OC has exploded. He reached down to pick it up. Even through the thick gloves of his tech suit he could feel how hot the rod was.
Ignoring the burning of his gloves he pushed the rod through the padlock and began to lever downwards. At first nothing happened. Salem put all his weight into it and finally the lock began to groan under the pressure.“Doctor Salem,” the voice was coming from the control room over the PA system “forty seconds until overload”
That was all the encouragement he needed . With final scream he all his strength into his makeshift pry bar. This time the lock gave up and let go, almost sending Salem head first into the now exposed control panel. Quickly he began to type in the codes to shutdown the link between the core and the OC’s. Salem typed in the final command and held his breath. Nothing happened.
“Fifteen seconds until overload”
Salem looked at the metal rod in his hand and realized that he was out of options.
“Ten seconds, Dr Salem get out of there”
Salem ignored the pleas from the control room. Instead he raised the rod above his head. The normal gentle hum of the organo-capacitors had become a deafening crescendo as the power build up reached critical mass.
“Critical discharge in 3, 2, 1…”
The chamber was filled with what sounded like a high pitched scream as the OC’s released their full potential down the lines that connected them to the core of the quantum matrix. At that same moment Salem plunged his makeshift tool into the control panel in front of him. The power from the overload now found a new path to travel down. A path through Dr Salem’s own body. Every atom of his being screamed as they were torn apart by the cosmic forces surging through them. In a brilliant green flash and a final scream of defiance from the machinery, the entire complex went dark.”
I haven’t had a chance to go over it for the numerous grammatical errors that I am sure exist but please feel free to point them out (it will help me once i get to editing 😀 )
So this isn’t writing related (too much) but I though I would share it anyway. My wife is doing her bachelors in Mechanical Engineering at the University of Utah. As she is a junior, she had to take part in the two semester long Mechatronics contest. This year they had the King Kong challenge. The event took place during the past week and I was there to film it. Just for fun (and after I had made the team a short video), I decided to have a little fun and made this little Sci-Fi short. Get ready, for the “Rise of Hal”…
There is a story being run on one of the local news broadcasters about a new program being run by some public libraries. The program allows patrons to pay off late fees by coming into the library, putting butts on seats and “reading off the debt”. Personally I think this is a great idea. Anything that encourages people to read more and maybe expand their knowledge is a good thing right?
Well sadly not everyone thinks so. In fact I was a little shocked by the loathing that some people seem to have for public libraries. Now I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised, this is Utah after all. But the resentment that I see towards anything that might help in the education of the future generations is, to be honest, sickening. So the question I have is: How common is this? How do you feel about public libraries? Are they still relevant?
I have set up a poll to try and gauge how people feel (over in the right hand column). Tell your friends and have them vote.
The lose of our public libraries would be devastating to this country and to it’s future.
Recently I stumbled across some old word files containing the partial remains of stories I had written when I was teenager (oh so long ago). As I read through, happily trundling down memory lane, I felt as if something was not right. There was something missing in those early manuscripts. It wasn’t that the ideas behind the stories were weak, far from it. In fact I intend to revisit one of them in the near future (if Mr Brehaut is reading this; You’re going to be very happy 😉 ). It took me a while to finally figure out what was missing back then; Life experience.
Time and time again I have heard the words “write what you know” offered as advice to struggling writers. While I always thought it was good advice, I never really appreciated it until I looked back at my own work. Our writing is a reflection of ourselves, of the things we have seen and done. It can be a record of how we are feeling at a given moment in time. This is important not only for our readers, but also for ourselves. It allows us to look back and see how far we’ve come.
Of course we can’t get any of this life experience if we are constantly tied to our keyboards. I offer this additional piece of advice to the struggling writer. When you are struggling to find that next chapter or fill that big gaping plot hole, stand up and walk away from the keyboard. Staring at a monitor is not going to help. Get up, leave the room and do something totally unrelated. New ideas come from new experiences. If you have no new experiences, you will not be able to “write what you know”!
J B Angell - Author 