I really enjoy when I am challenged, to some extent, to lay on the stupid. This is where Fiction 440 comes in. It is a Lansing based group, which challenges folks to write a flash fiction story of no more than 440 words. The stories usually have to contain certain words or feature a theme.

Tonight is the 10th edition of this event (at Soup Spoon Cafe), and the stories had to include the words Score, Sack, and Fumble.

Now, Fiction 440 doesn’t require your stories to be stupid or silly, but that is just what I go for. These stories are read aloud at places which serve booze, so with that in mind, I try to make my stories as ridiculous as possible (here is my first submission, Party Pooper).

My entry for tonight’s event, A Good Day, is below. It has ‘space Vikings.’¹ Yes. I have a feeling I will not be asked to attend the next event. I also wrote this in about 20-30 minutes, and went right up to the midnight deadline, so if there are any grammar or smelling errors, that’s why. Which is fine. Sometimes you just need to take a Devil May Care approach to writing and crank something out, space Vikings or not.

Erik stood on the bridge of his dragon head spacecruiser and watched the chaos on the view-screen. Lasers flashed outside. Ships exploded. Men died. It would be a good day.

Erik hurled his mug of space-mead to the floor, “To battle.” The crew cheered as the spacecruiser broke its orbit and screamed for the planet’s surface. The Pantheran laser satellites were only a threat above the planet. Erik’s brother Lorn, expecting an easy sack, ignored the satellites and approached Panthera at maximum speed. His charred, lifeless ship floated in the starry ship-graveyard above the planet.

Erik gripped the handle of his laser-axe, Veinbiter, as the ship entered Panthera’s atmosphere. The time to mourn his brother would come later. Now, there was only time for one thing: battle. Erik snapped on his stained, purple helmet as the helmsman counted the seconds until touchdown. Each of his helmet’s dents and scratches told a story.

The dragon head ship burst through a bank of orange Pantheran clouds like a nightmare. The Pantherans who were not in awe, ran, as the wedge-shaped ship landed and shook the ground. Erik was the first off the ship, and whirled Veinbiter over his head. A pair of Pantheran warriors roared and flashed their yellowed, dagger-like canines. They lunged for Erik, but Veinbiter was faster and tore their silver flesh. Blue blood sprayed and pooled at Erik’s feet.

Two. A good start, Erik thought, but far from evening the score of his lost brother. Lorn’s brawn and blade would be missed, but Erik looked at the upside: it meant more Pantherans for him.

Another pair of Pantherans felt Veinbiter’s kiss and joined their brothers on the ground. Four. A decent effort, for an ill man, as Lorn would have said. Another swing of Veinbiter, and a head sailed several yards. Five.

Erik threw his shoulder into a Pantheran making a feast of one of his men, and they exchanged blows. Erik’s helmet had a new story, and his tally went up to six.

A thunderous roar cleared a space around Erik. An eight foot tall Pantheran warrior with a flowing silver mane, roared again and ran for him. Its clawed feet tore up the shimmering green grass, and its silver tail whipped about with every step. Erik pulled a detonator from his utility belt and hurled it at the stampeding beast. The Pantheran fumbled with the detonator as its curved handle became entangled in its mane.

A flash. An explosion. Seven. Under his helmet, Erik smiled. Today would be a good day, indeed.

–
¹ While it does not take place in space, I highly recommend the Viking novel, The Long Ships. Its influence on this story cannot be stressed enough. Here are a couple of other flash fiction pieces inspired by the book. One . Two. They are equally ridiculous.

Laundry day was a very tiring day for Abner.

F8, 50mm (prime), 1/640 sec, iso 100

June 15th, 18xx

While on Safari in the wild, untamed marshes of Mid-Michigan, I came upon a most peculiar sight–that of a tiny turtle, shown above. I asked my assistant, Dr. Watchband, for a bit of coinage. “Whatever for?” he asked, searching his sweat soaked pockets for a shiny discus. “Why, for scale of course,” I answered.

The good Doctor appeared perplexed as he stroked his golden beard. “I thought you did not bring any instruments for weighing specimens?”

I shook my head. “Not for weighing, my dear Dr. Watchband,” I placed the turtle on a white plate “but for the sake of photography.” I set the coin near the turtle and readied my camera. “You see? Now, when someone views this photograph, they will have a sense of the size.” I clicked the shutter.

“I say, Bully idea, Professor,” Dr. Watchband exclaimed. He walked nearer to the turtle. “I wonder how big the adults get?” he proceeded to poke the turtle’s face with his right index finger. I returned my camera to its case, “I cannot say, but I would advise against molesting that turtle, Doctor.”

The little turtle began to emit a series of high pitched whines, but the Doctor did not lessen his assault. “What an interesting sound, I wonder why it does such a thing?”

“Likely it is the result of your fingers prodding its tiny eyeballs,” I suggested. “Doctor, kindly cease your childish behavior. We are Men of Science, not school boys playing at the creek.”

“Perhaps I should take this little chap with us.”

“I dare say that would be a terrible idea,” I replied. The sound of branches snapping in the distance caught my attention.

“Poppycock,” Doctor Watchband replied as he pulled on the turtle’s tiny tail, it responded with a more intense whine. “I shall take him with us and give him a Proper name. Like Pancake.”

“Pancake is not a Proper name for such a creature,” I retorted. Birds scattered and cawed from the nearby bushes and trees as if in a panic.

“Very well, Doorstop then.”

“That is an even worse name,” I said as a low groaning grew in volume behind the Doctor. “I pray you never have any children. Your first Born would be named something silly like Toothpick.”

The doctor stood up in a huff. “That was my great-grandfather’s name!”

“This explains so much,” I sighed. “Toothpick Watchband? Really?”

“Don’t be silly,” the doctor responded, “our family name was changed after leaving the Old Country. He was born Toothpick von Vatchhand.”

“Because that is so much better,” I fired back. The tall grasses behind the doctor shook. “Now, SEE HERE!” the doctor shouted. Sadly, these were his last words. Well, nearly. His actual last words were gurgles and sputters as a six-foot tall turtle tackled him from behind and proceeded to maul him with its jagged beak.

- Prof. Rutherford J. Hogan

"I'm so AVERAGE looking."

When I look at a fish such as this, I tend to “ooh” and “ahh” over its colors and such. But, I wonder: does it know how pretty I find it? Perhaps this fish has low self-esteem, and considers itself rather boring and plain. Sadly, I’ll never know–at least not until my Fish-Brain-Reader gets out of beta testing. This photo was taken at Preuss Pets in Old Town, Lansing.

Links to my other content:

Geek Speak:  Penguicon recap, Star Wars Day, Free Comic Book Day

Ginger and the Geek: Podcast 019, Dirty Feat and Derby Vixens

Mansense: Guitly Pleasures

Lost Highway: Dollman

"Hi! I'm a photo that has nothing to do with this blog post."

I’m posting a flash fiction piece from my Ginger and the Geek blog here. It contains a couple adult words and has a bit of the ol’ violence. Enjoy. 

Re-post begins:

In podcast episode 005, we had Aaron Matthews on to talk about Fiction 440, a new writing group in Lansing. The concept? You get three words (or a theme) you must include in your story–a story that cannot be longer than 440 words.

Easy, right?

After stories are submitted, a reading event is held and selected stories are read aloud. It makes for a fun evening, and is worth trying.

I was unable to take part in the most recent edition, but I did turn in a story for the first outing, which I had the pleasure of reading aloud at Moriarty’s Pub.

The words? Cufflinks, glassware and balls. Knowing there was a chance I had to read my piece aloud, I made sure to make it, in a word, silly. Or in a few more words, fun to read aloud to a room full of people drinking beer.

And thankfully, it got laughs where I hoped.

Read on, warning: this story contains a tiny bit of PG-13 language and a bit of violence.

#

Party Pooper by Daniel J. Hogan

It wasn’t the ninja that bothered Gibson so much as it was the robots.

Ninja, he could handle. Shot to the chest. Kick to the face. Sword through the liver. No problem.

But robots? They were difficult. You could destroy up to 80 percent of their metal bodies and they were still combat effective. The diagonal scar across Gibson’s face was proof enough.

“I ain’t paid enough for this shit,” Gibson mumbled as party guests screamed and fled.

He pulled off one of his cufflinks and hurled it at an approaching robot. It was a foot taller than him at an even seven feet, silver in color and eager to crush a skull with its pincher claws.

Gibson’s cufflink bounced off the robot’s lone glowing red eye and the micro-explosive inside turned the mechanical menace into a pile of scrap.

The scrap pile twitched. Gibson grumbled and dodged a throwing star hungry for his flesh. The throwing star’s owner performed a spin kick. Gibson grabbed the ninja’s foot and twisted. Hard.

The ninja’s hood muffled his scream.

Another ninja slashed at Gibson with a glowing katana. He leaned back, but the shimmering blade cleaved off part of his tuxedo’s right lapel.

“This. Is. A. Rental!” Gibson yelled, as he back flipped behind the banquet hall’s bar.

When the ninja peered over the top of the bar, Gibson rammed a shard of glassware into his face.

“Asshole,” Gibson spat as the glowing katana fell from the ninja’s hands.

A high pitch whining caught Gibson’s attention. He grabbed the katana and hopped over the bar two seconds before it became a pile of cinders, thanks to robot #2’s eye laser.

He ran for the robot, katana at the ready. He had another four seconds before the robot could fire its eye laser again.
Three. Gibson jumped at the robot.

Two. He swung the katana.

One. The glowing blade sliced through what passed for the robot’s neck.

Gibson landed. The robot’s head bounced on the hard wood of the dance floor. He picked up the robot’s head and dumped it into a punch bowl. Behind him, the robot’s body short circuited and fell over.

A thin man carrying a cane appeared through a glowing doorway. He pulled a sword out of the cane. “You cannot best me with a sword, Gibson!”

Gibson produced a pistol and shot the man between the eyes, “Nope.” He ran through the glowing doorway to a computer. A count down clock filled the screen.

“Deactivate,” Gibson said.

“Password?” the computer asked.

“Balls.”

“Accepted. Atomic Doom Laser deactivated.”

Gibson lit a cigarette.

###

I wear glasses. Tiger Sixon *doesn't* wear glasses. Big difference.

A self-portrait of sorts for my Lost Highway B-movie Reviews alter-ego, Tiger Sixon. Yes, I am now a member of the popular satirical B-movie review website. My first review was Food of the Good, and my second, Zone Troopers, went up on Monday. Look for at least one a month from me.

Why the “character”? The rest of the Lost Highway gang has a character, so I decided to join the fun–plus it gives me some extra material for jokes (read the bio below). For the record, I’m not really a fan of anonymous blogging, but–this is “in character,” which is different, and I’m obviously not hiding anything.

Tiger’s “bio” (I wrote the first two paragraphs):

Tiger Sixon has friends in high places–Outer Space. As a secret operative for the government, Tiger met a trio of aliens after they had a rough landing outside an abandoned mini-golf course. Ignoring orders to bring the aliens back to headquarters for “tests”, Tiger went on a joy ride with his new friends in their UFO–and ran up a hefty bar tab on his government issued credit card in the process.

After returning to headquarters empty handed, but full livered, Tiger was arrested and locked up in a government base somewhere in Death Valley. The government wants Tiger’s knowledge of the aliens and their UFO, but he won’t talk. The government forces Tiger to watch weapons grade b-movies in hopes he will go mad, crack, and share his secrets. So far, all the government has been able to get out Tiger is plenty of snark with a side of sarcasm.

Lost Highway has secured government funding normally reserved for public orphanages to allow Tiger’s b-movie immersion studies to be revealed to the public. Feel free to follow him on twitter at http://twitter.com/tigersixon or his top secret facebook page that he’s updating with a Somalian iphone hidden somewhere in the base. Also, never mention his name in public. Big brother is watching and will swoop down on you like a spider monkey.

All in good fun. A big thanks to Steve Jencks at Lost Highway for asking me to join the team.

Re: the photo, nothing fancy here, just held the camera in front of me and, groan, used the on-camera flash along with a second light source. I ran the final shot through some filters in Photoshop to make it look more comic book like.

"What, no hot tub?"

The set up plan for Ignite Lansing 4. I was a part of the photo team.

What do you do each day that doesn’t contribute to your writing — and can you eliminate it? (Author: Leo Babauta)

OK, this was pretty easy. I know what keeps me from working on writing. They are, left to right -Facebook, the Internet, Twitter and worrying about my website traffic.

I guess I could just lump all of those together and just say, “Internet.” But, in response to the question, yes I could eliminate the time I spend on these four distractions.

I was going for a bit of a “reverse fail whale” look here.  Get it–everything is weighing the pencil down? Y’know, instead of lifting it up? Hm.

I drew this one in blue pencil and then inked it by hand with my micron pens–which I haven’t used in a King’s age.

—
Daniel J. Hogan is a freelance writer, podcaster, and a photoblogger.  He is waiting for the Great Fail Whale in a pumpkin patch in Lansing, Michigan.  Follow him on Twitter, @danieljhogan.

If only my 401k looked the same.

Yes!  I am a “Winner” once again for National Novel Writing Month (forth time winning). Looking for today’s photo? Here you go.

I wrote 50,070 words in twenty-eight days (I hit the goal last night).

Even though I enjoyed my experience this year, I am glad it is over. Sure, it was fun, but NaNoWriMo is stressful on its own, and it is even worse when you have a bunch of other things going on like I do.

But, I was happy to take a break from the fiction novel I’m rewriting, Drake, to give NaNoWriMo another go.

Why did you partake in National Novel Writing Month? For conditioning.  Really.  I’m rewriting a fantasy fiction novel, Drake, and I felt like I wasn’t doing as well at it as I could be.  So, I took a month off and forced myself to crank out about 2,000 words a day.  When I get back to Drake tomorrow, and shoot for only about 500 worrds or so, it’ll be a breeze.  It is like training for a 5k run by running five or six miles–you get used to the longer haul, so anything less is a cake walk.

Are you going to finish this National Novel Writing Month story? Maybe.  We’ll see.  It was more important that I just get it out of my head, and I had always wanted to try a memior/non-fiction.  NaNoWriMo was a good testing ground.  Even though I had fun, I think I’ll stick to fiction.  But, this did give me a taste of what non-genre fiction would be like.

Are you happy with what you wrote? I enjoyed a few sentences.

…Out of 50,000 words, you “enjoyed a few sentences“? Yep.  That’s how it works. This time around was a bit easier because I was basing everything on my vacation to Disney World last month, but even then there were parts where I wasn’t sure how much I enjoyed what I was writing.  But, that’s the point of NaNoWriMo–just get something down on paper and out of your head.  You may have this great idea, but you’ll never know if it really is or not until you give it flesh and bones.

Would you recommend Novel Writing Month to other writers? It isn’t for everyone, but I always tell people you have to try, and NaNoWriMo is a great way to force yourself to try when it comes to writing.  That’s how I finally got anywhere with writing, and it has opened a bunch of doors for me.  And like any craft, the more you exercise your skills, especially in less than ideal situations, the greater the benefits.  You can sit around and blog or tweet about how you want to write this-that-or-the-other-thing or how such-and-such writer sucks, or you can cowboy up and prove yourself.

Everyone starts somewhere, and NaNoWriMo is a great push out of the door.

—
Daniel J. Hogan is a freelance writer, podcaster, and a photoblogger. He lives in Lansing, Michigan and he ain’t been home to see his baby in about 28 and one half days.  Follow him on Twitter, @danieljhogan.

You aren't really clean, unless you're Mickey Mouse Clean™

Yes, National Novel Writing Month (aka NaNoWriMo) begins today.

What is it? You have thirty days to write 50,000 words.   Crazy, right?

It is old hat for me.  And as such, I decided to give it another go this year–for a fourth time (I’ve “won” each of the past three times).  Read why decided to try again after the break.

Why try NaNoWriMo for a fourth time?

I just got back from a week long trip to Disney world (hence the photo of the Mickey Mouse soap above), and I decided I wanted to take a stab at a humorous “travel memoir.”

Wait, aren’t you already re-writing a novel?

Yep. But, I need to get this stuff out of my head, and NaNoWriMo is a great excuse.  I really wanted to write about a summer trip I took for last year’s challenge, and I did not–and I’ve regretted it ever since.  I need to write this stuff while it is still fresh.  Yes, I took a decent amount of notes, but I didn’t write down everything.

…Wait, this is going to be nonfiction?

Sort of.  Maybe.  I dunno.  It may be closer to satire. Maybe a satirical memoir?  I don’t know.  I hate labels.

My girlfriend and I did spend six days at Disney World, and I took notes.  I may just play it safe and say it is “based on actual events,” but I don’t see it being serious nonfiction (I am anything but serious).  If you want “real” nonfiction, read a cookbook.

Swinging more towards fiction may just be a bit safer for my girlfriend and I (to “protect the innocent” and such).

I have a hard time labeling something when I’ve only written 2,000 words.

#

There is a pretty clear divide among some of my writer friends when it comes to NaNoWriMo.  They either like it (or at least approve of the concept), or hate it. I wouldn’t have a finished novel and bit of a freelance writing career without it, so everyone is entitled to their opinion.

I like the challenge of meeting a deadline and proving myself, and that’s why I like National Novel Writing Month.

And like I said, I just need to get this stuff out of my head on into a *shudder* Word document.  If I like what I see, I can keep it, or just show to friends and family.  At least I’ll know, and I won’t be wondering what if like I have been since last year.

Are you taking part in National Novel Writing Month?

The Great Dread Balloonthulhu.

A balloon Cthulhu hat I received at ConClave from the awesome folks at Elder Signs Press.  Tweaked quite a bit in Photoshop.  Read a new, silly flash fiction story inspired by this photo after the break.  Happy Halloween!

Here’s a photo of me wearing said hat [photo by Deborah Jones]. Story after the photo. It is very silly.

The height of fashion.

#

The Squeak of Balloonthulhu by Daniel J. Hogan

(with apologies to H. P. Lovecraft)

I curse the day our ship came within sight of that uncharted, demon isle.  My mind has been torn by the vile contents of that floating heap of dread.

Ba’lyeh, the Floating City.

Its twisted and bent structures were formed of a semi-transparent firm material that resembled bubbles. My eyes hurt to look upon it, yet I could not tear my gaze away.

The island lay off the Madagascar coast.  The captain of our vessel, a man I thought of strong will, took us unknowingly to the island.  He cited bizarre dreams, which guided his hand.

The crew protested approaching the abstract island that rested atop the waves, bobbing and drifting as if it were enjoying a leisurely swim.

The bright, shocking primary colors of the island’s structures approached obscenity.  Brilliant blues, gaudy greens and revolting reds—each attacked the senses.

My fellow passengers and I joined the crew’s protest, but the captain did not listen.

Only one passenger seemed pleased to near Ba’lyeh and its buoyant shores:  A hunched-backed, rat of a professor from Ginantonic University.  His shocking red-orange hair flared out on either side, as if his head had sprouted wings.  His face was a ghostly white.  His bulbous nose was a deep, blood red.  Odder still were his shoes: long and spacious at the toes, as if someone had shod a duck.

The professor clutched a brightly colored book and kept chanting, “Balloonthulhu fhtagn.”

The odd words were accented with honks from a small horn held in a free hand.  It was he who told us the name of the island.

We took rowboats to the island.  Walking was difficult, as our steps were returned with plenty of bounce.

The captain, inspired by his dreams, led us to the center of the island.  The professor continued his fevered chanting.

“Balloonthulhu fhtagn! Balloonthulhu fhtagn!”

We came to an immense structure.  It was made of giant, twisted semi-transparent tubes, like the rest of the isle.

It resembled a vault or a crypt.  Its titanic door was slightly ajar.  The professor ran past the captain, threw up his hands and screamed “Balloonthulhu fhtagn!” along with a dozen other dark, twisted words.

The door swung down like a drawbridge, releasing a terrible squeaking sound all the way.

An enormous, hideous shape shambled out of the mountain-sized door.

Most of the crew was instantly driven mad.  Their screams were drowned out by the terrible squeaking that followed the beast’s every move.

Its was made of a semi-transparent green material that twisted to form its gruesome visage.  Its face was a web of flopping tubes, and its eyes were blinding white orbs.  It grabbed everyone, save I, with its rubbery claws and consumed them.

I escaped to a rowboat and reached the ship, but I have been unsuccessful in operating the vessel alone, aside from releasing the anchor.

A terrible sound follows the drifting ship.  A squeaking.  A rubbing.

There!  At the window!  A giant eye!

Cindy wasn't sure what her prize was exactly, but she'd never play the crane game at the truck stop ever again.

A three-banded armadillo, named Digger, I believe (he’s an educational animal from Potter Park Zoo). I wrote a flash fiction story inspired by this photo. Read it after the break.

A few docents from the zoo were attending the Capital City River Run (in which I ran), and one had my pal Digger. Watching this guy is something out of a Lovecraftian nightmare–the way it scurries around on its feet and claws will fill your dreams and twist your mind.

Ahem. Sorry.

Oh, and did I mention it can roll into a ball? CREEPY. But, also cute.

This guy can be very difficult to take photos of because he moves so fast. I was lucky that the docent offered to hold him up for a few minutes.

Flash fiction story below–remember, I write these quick and just have fun.  It is a good exercise.

#

Story: Wish Carefully

Cindy ran to her bedroom in the left wing of the mansion.  She could not get there too fast on her short, eight year old legs, but it was the thought that counted.

She wore a tiny, fancy dress that was covered with spilled food.  Her hair matched the color of the pasta sauce splattered over the dress’ neckline.

Cindy’s stepmother yelled and her words chased the child down the mansion’s expansive hallway.  “And stay there!”

The little girl slammed the bedroom door shut, and startled her legion of stuffed animals.  At least they would have been startled if they had been alive and not stuffed.  Again, it was the thought that counted.

Cindy crawled on top of padded bench under her bedroom’s bay window and stared up at the night sky with tear filled eyes.

A white streak rocketed across the sky.  “A shooting star!”  The girl made a wish.  A wish for help.  A wish to free her from her wicked stepmother.

A flash went off in the corner behind Cindy.  She spun around to see a scaly, leathery ball the size of a cantaloupe rolling on the floor.  The girl shrieked.

She shrieked even louder when the ball opened up  to reveal a three-banded armadillo.

“Gah!”  the armadillo protested, as it placed its clawed hands over its wide ears.  “Stow it, kid!”

Its voice sounded like a man whose throat had been stepped on.  Repeatedly.  With golf shoes.

“Who are you?”

“I’m yer fairy-godwhatever.”

“But…you’re an…”

“Armadillo?  Yep. The  name’s Ratchet.”

“But…I-I was expecting—“

Ratchet sighed and pulled out a cigar.  Cindy was content not knowing its place of origin.  Ratchet usurped a porcelain doll’s spot on a mini rocking chair.

“Look, all of the A-List god-whathaveyou’s are busy.  I’m all that’s left.”  Ratchet lit the cigar with an equally mysterious match.  “Whatcha need, uh…” he pointed a long claw at the girl.

“Cindy.”

Ratchet puffed on his cigar.  “Right. OK, Chrissy.  Whatcha need?”  His tone was the definition of indifference.

“M-my s-st-st—“

“Get on with it, Cassy.  I’m a busy ‘dillo.”

“My evil stepmother sent me to bed, and I didn’t want to go,” the girl explained.

Ratchet jumped off the mini rocking chair and landed on the porcelain doll.  “Don’t wanna go to bed?  Heck, is that all?”

Cindy nodded.

The armadillo rubbed his claws together and chewed on his cigar.  “Piece o’ cake.”

Thirty minutes later, Cindy and her stepmother were standing outside the mansion, which was now completely  engulfed in flames.

Cindy, confused and in awe, looked over to see Ratchet light another cigar with a piece of burning tapestry.   The armadillo gave Cindy a thumbs up and winked before he disappeared in a flash of light.

Earl took his BBQ very seriously.

A blacksmith was demoing his work in downtown Lansing one day, and I snapped this awesome photo. I did a red scale trick in Photoshop. I wrote a flash fiction story inspired by this photo, read it below. I’ll write more whenever I’m inspired, and I’ll keep them short (less than 500 words).  And, I write these fast and just have fun.

#

Story: Jack

Jack was thrown into the side of a building.

Glass and metal littered the street. People screamed and ran, but not from the dashing, athletic Jack.

The one-eyed, ten foot tall man-beast lumbering down main street was the attention hog. Its upper torso was scaly, yet its legs were furry and it walked on a pair of black hooves.

Jack, thankful for his magical armor, wiped a thin trail of blood from his mouth and got to his feet. His sword lay broken in two on the sidewalk.

A shimmering portal stood where the front window of a coffee shop had been a moment ago. A blackened waste land decorated with spouts of fire was visible on the other side.

The man-beast roared, and lumbered after a businessman carrying a brief case. Cars honked, which only irritated the creature more. It kicked over a statue, the head of the governor it honored snapped off.

Jack improvised.

A blacksmith had been demonstrating his skills outside a nearby art gallery before the monster appeared. Jack ran for the portable forge, his long golden hair flying. He grabbed a long metal spike from the forge, its tip aglow with a brilliant orange.

The man-beast hurled a small sedan into a franchise sandwich shop and bellowed. Main street was all but deserted by now. Jack placed a pair of fingers in his mouth and whistled.

The man-beast spun on its hooves, its glowing eye found Jack. It snarled, saliva flowing from its fanged mouth.

Jack held the burning spike. “Over here.”

The vile creature answered the challenge and stampeded. The blond man held his ground, and gripped the glowing spike.

Jack spun the spike and held it like a spear. He waited. The man-beast trampled a rack of bikes and knocked over a light pole.

The armored man hurled his burning, metal spear with all his magic-enhanced strength.

The man-beast stumbled, wavered and his scaly bulk landed on a fountain. Water mixed with purple blood. The dead beast lay with the metal spike buried in its giant eye. A half-inch of the glowing tip poked out of the creature’s skull.

A crowd gathered around the destroyed beast. An arsenal of cellular phones were on display, taking pictures and sharing them with the world.

Jack gathered the pieces of his broken sword and returned to the bewildered blacksmith. “A little help?” the armored man asked.

Monster hunting was dirty work, but it paid well.

Sasquatch is essentially a friendly creature, but don't get between him and the last bagel at the continental breakfast.

I was a guest panelist at the fandom convention, ConClave this weekend. I picked up some helpful writing tips from the writers and editors in attendance. Read all about it after the break.

Once again, I helped out with the Writer’s Workshop. I offered advice and such, and gave feedback on a couple stories. I was also on panels about steampunk, podcasting and e-media.

It was great seeing William Jones, Stewart Sternberg, Charles Zaglanis, Rick Moore and M. Keaton again (and the rest of the Elder Signs Press gang), as well as meeting Christine Purcell.

Here are some tips I picked up from editors and writers in attendance:

• Editors will check out your online presence, especially if they are interested in your manuscript. I heard a one story about how an editor (or publisher) changed their mind about offering an author a book deal, due to a ranting blog post they had on their website slamming another editor.  Another editor said he is turned off by writers who have highly political or controversial blogs. To sum up, watch what you put online.
• Writing professionally is a business. You may have written the most beautiful prose ever, but if a publisher can’t find a way to market your book, they will pass. You can gain an edge by paying attention to the market and what sells.  Likewise, big book stores are also a business–they want books that will sell.
• When pitching  a book, find three similar (and recent) titles to compare it to. This also ties in with the marketing and business side of writing, and it makes it easier for a publisher to sell a book if they can say “it is like [X], [Y] and [Z].”
• And write a book that can be compared to popular titles. If you want to sell a novel, but don’t have a grand ‘artistic vision’ in mind, look at what is popular and take a stab at it–this doesn’t mean write a Harry Potter clone, but a young adult fantasy may be a good way to go, just make it your own story.
• Play nice with editors. If you sell a billion books, then you can start calling the shots, but until then, if an editor makes a suggestion–suck it up and deal with it. Play nice. Obviously, if the change completely alters the book, you can voice an opinion, just be civilized.
• Be professional. The writing community is a community, so make sure to play nice with others, otherwise word may get around and no one will want to work with you (see first bullet).

Did you attended ConClave? What were some tips you picked up?

photo: Sasquatch stand-up outside a presentation about Sasquatch.

"The greatest handgun ever made." - Revolver Ocelot

I stopped by the library for some research materials for my novel re-write.  Read all about it after the break (and watch some videos). Photo of Gunsmithing Guns of the Old West by David Chicoine and Colt’s Single Action Army Revolver by “Doc” O’Meara

The novel I’m working on now is very different from my first, The Magic of Eyri.  This one, called Drake (after the main character) for the moment, is a bit more serious and darker.  But not too serious.  I would describe it best as spaghetti-Western fantasy-horror, if that makes sense (and it probably doesn’t).

Drake uses a gun based on a Colt Single Action Army revolver (think of any Western film you’ve seen, that’s the type of gun, more or less).  To be clear, he isn’t using an actual Colt, as the story takes place in my own weird fantasy world, it is just inspired by the type of gun used in Westerns.

And let us not forget the Colt SAA’s appearance in Metal Gear Solid

As such, I wanted to make sure I used the correct terminology when describing the firearm (although its use will be hardly realistic). I was at the library and saw they had a couple books on Colt SAA and old west guns. Bingo.

The rewrite is going rather well, and I’m happy with my progress. I’ve been writing every day this month (the rewrite started on the 1st), and my daily goal is at least 500 words. I know that is not a lot, especially for a National Novel Writing Month veteran like myself (2,000 words/day!), but I wanted to take it easy.

The advantage of the small word count is that it is an easy goal to reach, so I don’t have to stress over how much I write–plus, it makes it easier for me to come back to writing.

How?

I like stopping on a “high note,” when I’m on a roll with a scene. I find that if I stop while I’m in the middle of cranking out a scene, I want to get back to writing faster.  Plus, it helps me remember where I left off a bit better (I am also using the “stopping in mid-sentence” trick).

When I’m asked for novel writing advice, I always make sure to mention not burning yourself out.  Stopping while on a roll is a great way to go–but if you force yourself to write for too long, you may find it difficult to want to return to the story (but everyone is different, so try different methods on your own).

If you stop while you are having fun writing the middle of a scene, you will want to return to the story as soon as possible.

But, if you go too long, and force yourself, you could become discouraged and let that story sit for a few days (or weeks, or months!) before you try it again.

Like I said, everyone is different in the way they write, and there is not a correct or wrong approach.  I just know what does and does not work for me.

Photo EXIF

Shutter Speed Value    1/49 sec
F-Number    F4.5
ISO Speed Ratings    200
Exposure Bias Value    0 EV
Focal Length    33.0 mm

Writing nonsense after the break.

I self-published my first novel, the Magic of Eyri, three years ago (has it been that long? Yikes). I started writing it in the fall of 2005, so it took me about two years to get the thing finished.

Since the fall of 2008, I have been working on my “next” novel, which I had been calling Night of the Lonely Werewolf, but now I am calling Drake (after the main character). At least for the moment.

I get asked from time to time what writing your second novel is like. It is difficult,  because I had the pleasure of ignorance the first time around.

I don’t really have that now. I “know” what I’m doing (to some extent) this go around, and I have a (slightly) better skill-set too.

Think of a garage band throwing together their first album, and relying on raw energy and determination just to get the thing done.

But now that they know what they are doing, and have some better gear, they examine every aspect of each track on their second album.

That’s what I’m in the middle of right now.

And that’s OK.

After reading through the first draft of this next novel, and making notes, I realized I needed a total rewrite.

And that’s also OK.

A brand new rewrite/story doesn’t scare me, in fact I am very much looking forward to this process.  I had some ideas for my characters that I didn’t even come up with until the final third of the novel (I almost typed “album” there, sheesh).

However this does mean a bit more world building and outlining, so I’m stuck with a bit of extra prep work.

And that is still OK.

I’m spending more time getting to know my characters and figuring out what I want them to do in this new adventure. I’m re-visiting a few writing books that helped me write Magic of Eyri, and it is aiding in this process considerably (books on mythic structure, etc).

And the more work I do, the more I know that the plot is going to be totally different. I may recycle the story from the first draft at some point, but I feel it is best to go a totally different route (but keep the same “world” and characters).

I was having problems keeping the plot together while reading through the first draft.

And that isn’t OK. At all. The plot was too complicated and murky. But remember, I’m a big proponent of “Your First Draft can be Crap.” And it was  (although I was proud of a few paragraphs).

So, I’m doing an “Apple+Z”* on Night of the Lovely Werewolf, and starting over with Drake very soon.

And that’s super-OK. To the max.

* = that’s “Undo” for you squares. Yes, I just made a Photoshop joke.

Silly Seagull is silly.

More after the break.

I expressed interest in doing the same (I read Cracked Magazine a bunch in my early teens), and was surprised to learn that it is very easy to sign up and pitch articles.

What Cracked.com is looking for when it comes to articles is fact based comedy. For example, Philip had a recent article called 7 Incredible Ways Sports Improved (And Even Saved) Lives.

He lists seven ways sports improved or saved the life of a person, and includes links to the articles he used as a source.

Fun stuff.

Always up for a creative challenge (and getting paid for it doesn’t hurt), I signed up and was added to the ever-growing stable of Cracked.com writers.  I have a couple ideas for stories, and I hope I can get something submitted soon.

We have Philip on LansingNext tomorrow to chat about writing for Cracked.com, so make sure to give it a listen (9AM, download the free podcast at 10AM).

Things I did this week. Check it out after the break. But first, a photo for you.

The photo above was just one of many I snapped at the recent East Lansing Art Festival. One of Lansing’s Roller Derby Vixens was promoting at the festival and was chatting with our group. I decided to snap a quick picture of her skates, and I wasn’t even trying that hard–I’m pretty happy with how it turned out (I messed with the colors in photoshop).

Anyway –

Wednesday brought us yet another fun filled Magic of Eyri Podcast episode, “Pirates!” As you can guess by the name, it is about a flat tax proposal. Wait. No.

Also on Wednesday, a blog I wrote for Elder Signs Press was published, “Writing Humor in Science Fiction and Fantasy.” I was overjoyed to be asked to contribute to the ESP blog and I was happy with how it turned out.

That’s it for this week! LansingNext was a rerun, but we’ll be back with a new show next Wednesday.

- This week’s episode of LansingNext: 012 “Of Moose and Mentor.”

- This week’s special episode of the Magic of Eyri Podcast, “Adapting a Novel to a Podcast.” This was a panel talk I did at Penguicon last weekend (which I still need to write about, sigh). Joining me on the panel is the super-talented Mary Robinette Kowal.

- Oh, and that podcast made it on BoingBoing. Woo hoo!

- I threw together a story for Examiner about where to celebrate Cinco de Mayo.

- And lastly, this week’s development stories for Capital Gains. One. Two. Three. Four.

Have a fun weekend.

Here’s a tentative run down of the panels I’ll be on, as like any convention, my schedule is subject to change. Penguicon is Apr. 30th thru May 2nd.

We Made It to the Oscars!
2009 had an unprecedented number of sci-fi films nominated for Academy Awards. Does this mean sci-fi is going mainstream?

Saturday 11AM
Daniel J. Hogan (m), Doselle Young, Catherine Shaffer

I’m looking forward to this one and it looks like I’m the moderator. It should be a fun chat and hopefully all in good fun. I like that they are listing moderators ahead of time. Since I’m modding this one, I had better come up with some questions or notes ahead of time.

Humor in Sci-Fi and Fantasy
Science Fiction is about Serious Things. Fantasy is about Causes and Quests. Wait, you mean they can be funny too? Puns, jokes, and running gags abound on this panel that pokes fun at works that take themselves a tad too seriously.

Saturday 2PM
Daniel J. Hogan, Jim C. Hines, Brian Briggs (m)

Jim, Brian and I were on this same panel last year and it was a hoot. I’m very much looking forward to this one as well. I think this would be the third time Jim and I have been on a panel focusing on humor in sci-fi and fantasy.

Publicity 101
You have a book coming out and a shoestring to promote it on. What’s an author to do?
Saturday 5PM
Daniel J. Hogan, Cherie Priest, Patrick Rothfuss (m), Brian Briggs

I certainly know a lot about this. The Internet and social media has made it easy and affordable to market yourself and your work.

Adapting a Novel to a Podcast
With our constantly-on-the-go culture, why not make your work even more available (and safe!) for our commuter-based society! Two veterans of aural performance help you get started.
Sunday 9AM
Mary Robinette Kowal, Daniel J. Hogan

I like that I’m described as a veteran of aural performance. That made my day right there. But, I guess with over 20 podcast episodes under my belt, that is an honest description. Heck, how many dozens of character voices have I done? Too many. But I love it. I was on a few panels with Mary last year and I’m looking forward to chatting with her again.

I’m only on four panels this time around (unless something changes) but that’s fine by me. I tend to over do it at some conventions and it’ll be nice to have time to relax (and I don’t have to worry about rushing down there on Friday either). Plus, I’ll have a girlfriend in tow and it wouldn’t be much fun for her if I was on panels all day and night.

I’ve scaled way back on how I do conventions vs. one and especially two years ago. I’m not even bringing any books this time. It is just isn’t cost effective any more and I feel I’m better off burning a bunch of podcast CDs and giving those out. I typically get a few online sales after any convention I’m a guest at, so I’m hoping that trend continues. I’ll confess that I’m always a bit nervous about being on panels with well-known writers and I kind of feel out of place at times, but typically everyone is very friendly and my worries are for not.

I really enjoy conventions. They are a great recharge to the creative batteries and I get to meet folks who have bought my book and/or listen to the podcast in person. Nothing in the world tops a stranger stopping you in a hotel lobby and saying how much they loved your book. Nothing.

In this version you can see me work the stage and rock the mic*.

You can join the hundreds of viewers in wondering “Why is he wearing an eye-patch?” or “What’s with the one glove?”

In other news, I just go back from a (much needed) vacation in San Francisco. I’m still “on vacation” today, even though I am home. I wanted a day to recover from jet lag and the red-eye flight back to Ol’ Mitty.

A day-by-day blog series about the trip, with plenty of photos will be happening soon.

*results may vary.

Before you gasp and say “499 pages?!”, keep in mind this is the printed out version–double spaced, 12 point font on normal sized pages. The total word count was somewhere in the neighborhood of 90,000. To compare, Magic of Eyri was 170,000+ words and 919 pages printed out in the same format.

Yes, I’ve killed quite a few trees lately.

Will I self-publish this one? Nope. I’ll get this baby ship-shape and start shopping it around in a few months (hopefully) to agents, etc.

My first thoughts after reading the last page and setting aside my red pen?

1. There are a few sentences I’m proud of.
2. It certainly is a first draft (as in, a good sized portion is “crap”).
3. I can see its potential.
4. I have a lot of work to do.

The most interesting thing about this novel is that I stopped writing it about halfway through and didn’t start up again until at least six months later (life happened). And it shows in some parts. Getting the story going again was rough, and in some sections it was apparent that I didn’t care how the characters got moving, as long as they were doing something.

But, towards the latter half, I found my groove once again. There are some great ideas that came to me then–ideas that will make me go back and completely change the first half of the book, for the better.

This is why, when asked for writing advice, I tell people to just finish, for better or worse (to wit, see my Ignite Lansing 3.0 presentation). I wrote scenes in the last 30 pages that I didn’t even have ideas for in the first 200 pages. I came up with a huge change for my main character in those last 30+ pages or so, and it’ll make the first part much better.

Had I stopped half-way through, I would have never come to that revelation. Better still, a few lines I wrote in the last few pages may end up going to the BEGINNING of the story. They set up my main character really well.

Sure, going back and rewriting most of the book with this new focus will be a bit of a chore, but I don’t care. It’ll make the story better and honestly, I’m not happy with how I wrote some of the early sections anyway (lots of info-dumping).

Next step: going through and taking all the notes from my marked up manuscript and putting them all in one notebook or sketch book.

Until then, feast on this:

Capital Gains development stories: (listed newest to oldest)

Grand Ledge Receives More Than $400,000 To Rehab Downtown Rental Lofts
3/10/2010

New Prep School Targets Young Professional Parents in Downtown Lansing
3/10/2010

Replay Entertainment Exchange Owner Adds Online Apparel Service
3/10/2010

Fabinelli’s Handmade Candy Shoppe Opens in Downtown Williamston
3/10/2010

Haze Art Gallery and Studio Move into New Buildings in Old Town
3/3/2010

New Vendor Features Great Lakes Fish and Special Orders in the New City Market
3/3/2010

Gravity Works Design & Development Open for Business, Plans Move to TIC
3/3/2010

South Lansing Brunch House Offers Traditional Breakfast and a Lebanese Flair
3/3/2010

Salon 130 in Mason Expands to 3,000 Sq Ft, Offers New Services
2/24/2010

Log Jam in Grand Ledge Gets Renovation, Goes Smoke Free and Updates Menu
2/24/2010

Law Offices of David L. Zoglio Move to New Old Town Location
2/24/2010

AnnaBelle’s Pet Station Adding Staff, Introduces New Day Care Depot
2/24/2010

#

Episode of LansingNext (I don’t know yet when episode 004 will be available for download, but I’ll keep everyone updated).

Episode 003 (listen or download)

I arrived on scene at 6:00 PM as the speakers were told to do, the interior of the Knapp’s Building was a buzzing hive of activity. Lights. Lasers (yes, laser). Cameras. They were all alive.

I had my pre-show briefing with show runners (Nick, Ben), the MC and the stage manager, Melissa. I was happy to see I could use a hand held mic, as I wanted to be mobile during my speech.

Around 7:00, the floodgates opened and attendees started arriving. It was energetic chaos (I mean that in a good way). Dozens filled the line for the Cravings Popcorn bar (my LansingNext co-host Julielyn helped as a volunteer).

The evening was pretty much a blur for me until I had my cue to head for the stage around 9:00 PM. I was in Group C, the last of the three groups of presenters. The crowd had thinned a bit by this point, but it was still very much a packed house.

I was pumped, primed and ready.

I took the stage and killed. My choice to go for the silly, crazy presentation worked. Had a lot of great crowd reactions (although my spork joke at the open didn’t seem to go over that well). I’m glad I decided to wear an eye-patch and to do a “character voice,” the crowd ate it up.

Five minutes later, it was all over. I received scores of compliments afterward, both in person and online.

Better still, I took First Place for my group. Bam.

I think I had third place overall. I don’t know when the video will be on YouTube, but I will post that asap once it becomes available.

Thanks to everyone at Ignite Lansing for putting on a great event!

This scene from ERNEST SAVES CHRISTMAS inspired my presentation a bit.

For those unfamiliar, the Ignite events are held around the world and the idea is you get people together and share ideas in five minutes.

That’s right, five minutes.

Five minutes, 22 slides, 15 seconds a slide. That’s a lot of information to cram into such a brief amount of time.

And of course, being the crazy person I am, I signed up to be a presenter. Visitors to the Ignite Lansing website voted on which presentations they wanted to see. I was fortunate enough to be chosen.

I am equal parts nervous and excited about this opportunity. I’ll be speaking in front of a group of hundreds in the building, as well as being streamed online. Afterward, the presentation will be archived for all to see on YouTube. The presentations can be watched at video.ignitelansing.com (I go on at 9:15 PM EST).

So yes, I’ll be speaking in front of a crowd nearing 600, not to mention many more watching online. This is quite a bit of pressure, but I’m up to it.

My presentation is called How to Survive Writing a Novel.

Now, I do not plan for this to be a five minute promotion of the Magic of Eyri, I am not that shameless of a self-promoter. I do list myself as the author of it on my title slide, but I felt it was necessary to show the audience that I actually wrote a novel.

I am taking a very funny, zany approach to this and I don’t want to give too much away ahead of time. Although I have been dropping hints here and there, especially on this week’s episode of LansingNext.

My goal is not to be boring. I am treating this as more of a performance piece than a presentation, if that makes sense. I’ll be digging into my improv comedy toolbox a bit, and just having fun.

If I can share information and entertain at the same time, awesome.

I shall post a link to the YouTube video once it is online. Wish me luck!