Zealous About Zee Anthology!

Okay, maybe it's a bit of a cheat, but there aren't any concrete rules about the A to Z challenge.  So, "zealous" is the word of the day to wrap things up.  I'm sure some of the contributors to "Quests, Curses, & Vengeance" are "zealous" about having their stories published, and I am zealous about publishing them.  This is a great little collection, and in a few days I hope to announce the table of contents.

This is going to be a large anthology, and while some of the stories are pretty much publishable at present, a number of them are going to need some serious editing.  Of course, that is often the case with short stories that are rushed into production and written in a single week.  Some authors work at different paces, and things in our lives often prevent us from working on a story as much as we'd like to in a limited timeframe.  Still, there are some really creative items just waiting to be perfected.

There is a lot to be zealous about with this book.  Each author will be getting a cut of the proceeds, and assuming everything works out we'll have it on store shelves sometime in August.  The pre-order won't be up and running for a while, as I won't know the final production cost (and necessary mark-up) until the revised stories are on-hand.  Still, with any luck, we'll have a pre-order special available in July.

As a special sneak peek, I'll leave you with this raw back-cover art, which compliments the front cover.  Both pieces are by the talented C. D. Muller.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some work to do.

Yesterday's Fantasy (Poem)

For quite a while, I had a feature called "Minstrel Mondays," where I would share a poem or set of song lyrics of my own creation.  That feature has gone by the wayside for the most part, because I don't think there's a huge interest in my poetry.  I used to write a lot of them when I was younger, though they never got me anywhere.

Today I present a little poem I put together back in 2006, which may have some meaning for you.

Sticky day

that I'm feeling,

of things that flow around

me, unending passion

never realized,

forgotten with age,

fallen from the tree

of knowledge, we seek

something we'll never get.

Yet out of it all

we find some meaning

that was never meant

to be.

I can't see your face

anymore, that's why I

try to feel my own.

It's not what I remember,

this sanctimonious me,

the eyes that stare back

are somebody without a

care of what I want.

I forgot myself in the

haze of tomorrow's reality.

I'm happier in yesterday's fantasy.

Xevious

X is probably the toughest letter in the alphabet for the A to Z challenge.  There just aren't that many X words that make a good topic.  Fortunately, I can fall back on my childhood and bring up that old video game, Xevious.

I must have been about 5 when my parents bought me an Atari 7800, a very primitive video game system.  One of the half dozen games I got with it was Xevious, which sucked up many happy hours.  I actually preferred Galaga, but Xevious was fine for a change of pace.

Over the years, I've played various old video games, though the ancient Atari games haven't really piqued my interest.  I can honestly say I grew out of them, and to be fair I haven't really played any games for months.  Video games are losing their allure, as I find my time shrinking with different projects and responsibilities.  Maybe, someday, I'll feel the urge to pick up a controller again, but for now I'll leave that to my kids, who still have some time to waste.

What We Want

This is a philosophical question that has been discussed and ruminated over since the dawn of time, and it is one that pertains to the very nature of human existence.  What we want is something that everyone asks themselves on occasion.  But the answer, if there is to be one, can only be truly answered in paradox.  Take the weather, for instance.  People are always complaining about it.  "It's too cold."  "It's too hot."  "It's raining outside."  "It's too sunny."  Whatever the weather is, there is something to dissatisfy us, and this is the way it is with many aspects of our lives.  To put it simply, we always want things to be the way they aren't.

It is a curious quirk of human nature, to never be satisfied or content with what we've got.  That instinct is responsible for everything good and bad about our way of life.  It is the reason great inventors create new devices.  It is the seed of discord that causes people to fight and kill one another.  It is the reason we are always trying to get more, and change the world to suit us.  Without this drive, without the sense of dissatisfaction with the world around us, we would not be able to survive, for we would be without purpose.

This eternal drive to make things "different" may make some of us vain or destructive, but it is the very basis of our existence.  Without the drive, we would never have crawled out of the jungles and caves to build civilization.  Without this desire moving forward, we will be condemned to devolve and plummet into a new dark age.  Really, it is when we are comfortable and satisfied that we are doing nothing, and allowing things to go to hell.  Just look at the fall of any great civilization.  When they get fat and comfortable, things collapse.  Being annoyed or frustrated is the motivation which leads to advancement and construction.  Being satisfied is what leads us to apathy and entropy.

So, the next time you are upset that the weather isn't good, or you're angry about something you don't have, or frustrated that your life isn't what you'd like it to be, feel grateful for this driving force.  It means you are alive, and not just sitting around and waiting to die.  Be happy that you're discontent; then go do something constructive about it.

Vintage Movie Rewatch

Wednesday afternoon, I had the chance to watch Beverly Hills Cop for the first time in a very long time. I think I was about 6 the last time I saw it (yes, my parents let me watch some very questionable movies). Of course, back then I didn't pay much attention to it, as I was too young to really appreciate it. Maybe that was for the best. Either way, I didn't really remember much about it after twenty-seven years, so it was like watching it for the first time.

The dvd was in the $5 bin at Walmart a couple of months ago, so I've had this thing sitting on my desk for quite a while. With all the writing, editing, and watching Lost, I didn't have time for an old movie. I finally got around to it yesterday. I had a headache from spring cleaning, and the fog knocked out my apparently-crappy Hughesnet internet connection, so I had nothing better to do (or maybe I just needed a break). On a sidebar, I'd like to say I'm pretty disappointed that my fancy, new satellite internet goes out anytime it is cloudy or damp outside. This is pretty shoddy service considering what I'm paying.

Moving on, I found Beverly Hills Cop to be a fairly entertaining movie. It's a fairly average movie for the mid-eighties, and didn't have anything that stands out to make it great. It was a cheap thrill movie with some of Eddie Murphy's classic comedy, a lot of swearing, and some pretty bloodless violence (a guy gets shot in the back of the head and he doesn't even bleed—the camera angle helps to cover it, but still). We see Ronnie Cox in a non-villain role (pre-Robocop, I think he always played some kind of good guy). And we see Judge Reinhold in a somewhat familiar "dorky-guy" role.

It's interesting to watch a vintage movie like this, as there's a certain sense of nostalgia behind it. You have the classic eighties soundtrack, glances at the techno-plastic fashions of the era, and altogether you have something that would be considered "low budget" today, even though it probably cost quite a bit in its day. It's worth watching for a few laughs and an entertaining, albeit unrealistic, plotline. Hey, it's worth it just to see Eddie Murphy shoving bananas up a tail pipe (seriously).

Utz

For the "u" post in the A to Z challenge, I'll briefly mention this snack food company.  Utz produces some very tasty junk food, and my personal favorite is their Maui Barbecue kettle-cooked potato chips, though they have all but disappeared in recent months.  That seems to be the way it goes for all the best stuff out there; you just can't get it in downeast Maine.  The scarcity of Vanilla Coke comes to mind, and I still can't find a single can of Hires root beer.  The best things seem to be unavailable in my vicinity.

Utz produces a lot of other great snacks, too.  Their pretzels are particularly good, and their other varieties of kettle cooked chips aren't bad, either.  Pick up a bag sometime.

Visit the Utz website.

Teaching Again

Monday morning, I had the pleasure of once again teaching a writing course at Washington Academy, one of the oldest and most prestigious High Schools in the United States.  Last year, I also taught "The Mysteries and Trials of Freelance Writing" during their "Artsfest" in April, and it was a great experience.  This year, it was all freshman in the class, a small group of attentive and talented pupils.  They handled the material well, came up with some great ideas during the different writing phases of the course, and I hope they came away with some useful knowledge that they'll be able to apply in the future.

During the course, I introduced them to the fundamental concepts of marketing fiction.  They wrote brief story plots, query letters, and received tips and tricks of the trade that I've learned through trial and error over the years.  Of course, we didn't have a lot of time to draft fresh material, but considering they only had 20 minutes or so for their plots and query letters, they were quite excellent.  Over time, when they have time, I expect they'll be capable of mastering the art of the submission process.

George S. Counts
Renouned Educator

Whenever I teach one of these courses, I get a taste of what could have been.  Though it's always a little nerve-wracking, and I tend to be nervous, there is a certain thrill to teaching a course.  If I did it every day, I imagine it would be second nature.  I suppose I inherited that from my father's side of the family, where teaching is practically the family business (many thanks to my great-grandfather, George Sylvester Counts).

It's not often that I get the opportunity to share my wealth of knowledge with receptive students.  The experience is always welcome.

Star Slavers, Still Free

Years ago, I started releasing one of my old novels, "The Star Slavers," on my website.  It got some attention as it was slowly released in segments, and those who enjoy a good, traditional space opera will find it appealing.

When I shopped this around to publishers many years ago, the response I got back was simply, "It's been done before."  A couple of editors really enjoyed the story, but they didn't think it was different enough to stand out.  Every professional who sampled it thought the ideas presented weren't original enough, and that is fairly typical of the publishing market today.  They are not after fun stories.  They want something weird or different, anything that is "new."  If you write entertaining pulp, there just aren't many markets for you anymore.

So, after years of getting the same answer from big and small publishers, I decided to release the book on my own website, rather than let it sit in a drawer forever.  It's all there, except for the final chapter.  Start at the beginning and see what you think.  If enough people like it, maybe I'll release the conclusion.

Review of the Week

I am pleased to share the following review for The Curse of Selwood, which a reader sent me not so long ago.  This should be up on Amazon.com soon:

A mournful train whistle cuts through the dusty plains of southern Nevada en route to a wedding – a cry signaling murder.  When Warlock-Sheriff James Doliber arrives on the scene, the horror and devastation aboard the doomed passenger train make two things painfully clear: some supernatural force is loose in Selwood, and it has no respect for the sanctity of marriage – or the law.

A “horned eight” scratched in blood at the scene of the massacre dredges up fears of an ancient curse laid upon the settlers of Selwood.  The bride-to-be of the mayor’s son is discovered missing among the train’s slaughtered occupants – the first act of vengeance to be inflicted upon the small town, and their only clue.

With his faithful deputies at his side – the beautiful elf maiden, Joella Grimes-Talus, and her unlikely husband, the stout-hearted dwarf, Boron Grimes – Sheriff Doliber aims to set things aright using his wits, his sidearm, and his skills as a Journeyman Warlock – knowing his powers may prove insufficient against this potent source of evil.  To complicate matters, US Marshal, Ned Rogers, who holds no love for the Warlock-Sheriff, tries to investigate matters in his own way, outside the law if necessary.

And so opens Martin Ingham’s latest chapter in the West of the Warlock series, The Curse of Selwood – a supernatural murder mystery in an “old western” setting unique for its drunken elves, pistol-packing dwarves, and shady leprechauns.  With a surprise appearance from the shade of the notorious Jesse James, The Curse of Selwood is a rootin’-tootin’ tale of mystery, action, and adventure, successfully merging the spirit of the old west with time-honored elements of fantasy and horror.  The characters Ingham creates are well-developed and engaging – particularly the troubled Joella Grimes-Talus, and the story is compelling.  I recommend you put your spurs up a spell and give The Curse of Selwood a read.  You’ll be pleased you did, partner.

Check out free samples, and links to buy the whole book here.

Quests, Curses, & Vengeance: A Shootout Origin

A few weeks ago, I revealed the fantastic cover to an upcoming Martinus Publishing anthology, "Quests, Curses, & Vengeance."  Now, I'd like to explain its creation, and why it is going to be a large collection.

Since the beginning of March, I have been running a "writing shootout," which is part-contest and part-writing exercise.  The origin of my series of "shootouts" comes from my experience with Pill Hill Press.  Years ago, I was invited to participate in one of these fun competitions, though it was a far different format than the one I'm currently using.  It started off by pitting writers from two different small presses against one another.  We wrote stories head-to-head each round, and whoever scored higher (based on points awarded by fellow writers) won their "shootout," and moved on to the next round.  This went on until only one team was left standing.

Later on, the format changed, putting everyone on a single team.  The players judged each other's stories each round, and competed for 3 rounds to see who would rack up the most points.  This was a little tenuous for several reasons.  One, the players were scoring their competitors, so there was always the temptation to be overly critical on other people's stories.  Two, there was no written scoring guideline, so points were arbitrary.  This was all well and good for a lighthearted game among friends, though very unscientific.

A couple of years ago, I was given the opportunity to host the last two Pill Hill Press shootouts.  By doing so, I implemented a new "team" structure, to help eliminate the conflict of interest involved with scoring.  People were assigned to review & score the stories from the other team, whose stories they were not competing against.  This also allowed us to have a "finalist" round, where the top-scoring writers could compete head-to-head for the win.

Unfortunately, the last PHP shootouts ended without a prize.  In the past, shootout winners were often given gifts from participants, and on occasion shootout stories would get published in various anthologies.  It was kind of a let-down that the ultimate winners (congratulations to A.D. Spencer and Scott Taylor, respectively) didn't get more than a symbolic pat on the back.  After doing two PHP shootouts in this manner, I resolved to make sure the winner of my third shootout would get more than praise for their trouble.

This is where "The Temporal Element" came alive.  Planning my Summer Shootout 2012, I decided the winning story in the final round would get published.  The winning writer would have a publication credit to their name, if nothing else.  I'd always wanted to do a time-travel anthology, and this gave me an excuse to assemble it.  I proposed the anthology idea to Hall Brothers Entertainment, and they jumped at the chance to publish it, so I went ahead with the shootout, touting a "publication prize" for an anthology that was to be announced.  The rest is now history.  Robert MacAnthony pulled out a victory, with Edmund Wells coming in a close second.  Both of their stories were accepted into the anthology.  A third finalists, John Kratman, also wrote an intriguing time-travel story that round, but he felt it wasn't ready for publication.

Now, finally getting to "Quests, Curses, & Vengeance," last December, as I started Martinus Publishing, I decided that it would be nice to do something different with the shootout process.  I felt this could be a good way to set up a special anthology, to tailor the writing prompts to fit an overall theme, and create an entire book from the stories written during the contest.  Since March, 14 different writers have been doing just that, crafting stories based on Quests, Curses, and Vengeance.  The finalists are currently weaving their last stories for the contest, and the ultimate winner will be decided next week.

As it sits, there are going to be a lot of stories in the anthology.  Out of the 42 different stories created during the 3 regular rounds of the shootout, over 30 of them will be part of the anthology.  Some of the stories need serious editing, while some will need little more than a quick polishing.  Either way, it's going to be an exciting collection.

I hope to have the tentative table of contents ready in the next week.  It's going to be a big one, that's for certain.

Plebeians of Plebiscite

Here's a little poem I threw together many years ago.  This one just came to me in a flash one evening.  It has been lurking at AuthorsDen.com for quite a while, and it was viewed well at first.  The title is somewhat inspired, so that draws in the poetic types.  I don't write much in the way of poetry anymore, so enjoy it and share it.

Drinking muddy water from a mason jar,

letting it all soak in

This is my life,

the sunny side of this hard land.

I till the soil of the seeker's vision,

fertilize their imaginations to

unending possibilities.

A mosquito lands upon my arm,

I crush it with my hand

and somewhere a dragonfly dies

for the sustenance I have extinguished.

Ripples appear in the pond's surface

as a slumbering mystery decomposes

hidden among the muck,

unknown to the minds of modernity.

Slide sideways through the hallways

of possibilities.

Our world is always remarkable

through the unshaded eyes of innocence.

yet unremarkable to the rose-tinted vision

of the unperceptive plebeians of plebiscite.

You know this means something,

but don't ask me what,

for I'm just the poor farmer

laughing at the idiocy of it all.

Outrage

I expect everyone has heard about the terrorist bombings that took place at the Boston Marathon on Monday.  It is the most heinous and cowardly form of attack on America in years, and not the sort of thing that generally happens in this country.  It is a rare sort of scum who blows up innocent bystanders to make some political point, and they never, ever get what they want, unless their sole intent is to hurt people indiscriminately.

It is an outrage, and no doubt we'll uncover the truth behind those responsible in time.  However, Americans need to remember that this is a very infrequent thing, and we should not start running scared.  That's what the bomber scum want.  They want you to be terrorized.  They want you to beg the government to protect you.  They want you to surrender your freedoms in exchange for an illusion of "security."  We must not allow fear to change who we are in this free country, and to preserve our freedoms we must demand stiff penalties on those who commit these sorts of crimes.

There are so many factors that I could discuss regarding this attack, but everyone else is already talking about it.  Rather than delve deeply into my own thoughts, I'd just like to say that I hope the culprit is exterminated with prejudice.  Bombers of this sort deserve no quarter, but since this happened in Massachusetts, the guilty party will not face the death penalty.  They'll instead get a cushy jail cell and three square meals a day for the rest of their natural life, along with cable television, all the free reading material they want, and they could even chat with their terrorist buddies about how much fun they had in the good old days.

So, yes, it would be very nice to see the person responsible for these outrageous acts "punished" accordingly.  A little karmic justice would go a long way toward making up the current gap in the overly-lax American justice system.  Where's the wrath of God when you need it?  Zap.

Burn in hell, terrorist-bomber scum!

Neanderthals, Ourselves

When you say the name, "Neanderthal" to most anyone, an image is conjured up of a primitive ape-man with no connection to Homosapiens, whatsoever.  In the past, scientists often taught that the Neanderthal was an off-shoot species with no descendants; an extinct race of savages.  Of course, modern science has only really scratched the surface when it comes to these mysterious people, and the more we uncover the more it is revealed that past speculation about them is often false.

The first major misconception is that Neanderthals have no descendants.  Modern genetic testing has proven this isn't the case.  If you are of European or Asian descent, then you are part Neanderthal.  It's a small amount, generally around 2-3 percent, but this proves that the Neanderthal race didn't completely die out.  It is quite possible they were instead "bred out," meaning they were absorbed into the modern human population.

Another major fallacy is the concept that they were a very primitive and backwards race.  True, by today's standards, they were primitive, but for their day and age they were at the cutting edge of societal evolution.  Their brain size wasn't much different than ours today, giving them the same mental potential as Homosapiens.  They used fire, made advanced tools (for their day), and ate vegetables in addition to the animals they killed.  Excavations have also proven that they performed some of the first burial rites.  The Neanderthals often put flowers and other decoration with their dead, burying them much as we do today.  Perhaps our modern tradition of a "wake" really comes from these forgotten ancestors.

The suspected outward appearance of Neanderthals has changed in recent years, as well.  They are no longer believed to have been hairy, ape-like creatures, but something that more closely resembled modern Europeans.  They likely had pale skin and no more or less body hair than your average white guy has today.  They were more stocky, and had much larger eyes than we do, all the better to survive in cold, dim climates.  Some wacky scientists recently speculated that their large eyes made them slow and stupid, meaning their enhanced eyesight was principally to blame for their ultimate decline.  However, that is just a wild assumption with little to no empirical evidence to back it up.

There is still much that is unknown about the Neanderthals, and modern scientists keep speculating to fill in the large gaps in their knowledge.  Many theories will go by the wayside over time, yet amidst the mysteries and conjecture there will arise little tidbits of truth.  Perhaps one day we'll know enough about these forgotten people that we don't consider them to be horrific cavemen, but the precursor to ourselves.