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Random Blather

~ Feverish ravings of a middle-aged mind

Random Blather

Category Archives: Fiction

Lost Girl: A Guilty Pleasure You Shouldn’t Feel Guilty About

02 Thursday Oct 2014

Posted by dougom in Fiction, News, Opinion

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

GLBT, television

imagehandler
Images courtesy of Showcase Lost Girl site

We all have guilty pleasures. Maybe you’re a hardcore leftist intellectual whose partner publishes dense books on comparative religion and you read People Magazine on the sly; maybe you’re a professor of Music specializing in Medieval religious music and you follow Miley Cyrus on Twitter and have every one of her albums; maybe your an avowed fan and proponent of the detective novel as major literature, a member of the Baker Street Irregulars, and a regular speaker on the influence of Doyle on modern detective fiction, but you have every episode of Scooby Doo on your Tivo. I dunno what yours is; I just know that people have them.

For me it’s usually some TV show or other. I can rationalize it; for example, I can make a good case that my love of Kim Possible shows my feminist leanings, my support of girl empowerment, and come up with plenty of other pseudo-intellectual nonsense, but the truth is I watch it because it’s funny and Kim kicks ass.

But I want to mention one guilty pleasure that is in some ways truly remarkable: Lost Girl.

At first blush, this is your classic guilty pleasure. Vampires! Werewolves! Succubi! Conspiracy theories and lost civilizations and lots of fight scenes! Lots of hot women in tight leather outfits! Gratuitous ow-neckline cleavage shots!  Girl-on-girl make-out sessions!

bo and lauren
See?  Told ya.

And let’s just stop there and back up a minute. Because here’s the thing:

From a perspective of how women are treated and how GLB (no trans characters that I can remember) relationships are treated, it’s one of the most level-headed shows I’ve ever seen.

The most obvious thing is who this show is about:  A woman.  And her female live-in, non-sexual best friend.  And the main character’s girlfriend.  And her main protagonists:  The leader of the “dark” folks (that’s what they call themselves)–also a woman–and her long-lost mother (yes, a woman).   (And oh, yeah; her sort-of boyfriend the werewolf.)

Seeing a pattern here?

women-lauren-bo-ksenia-solo-lost-girl-anna-silk-zoie-palmer-kenzi-HD-Wallpaper
The three main characters; what’s unusual for TV lead characters about this picture?

I haven’t even mentioned the many, many characters who are on for longer or shorter periods, like Linda Hamilton in a multi-show guest-starring role, or Rachel Skarsten as real-life valkyrie, or . . . well, you get the point.  LOTS of women, and front and center.  This show passes the Bechdel test with ease (although I’m sure there must be an episode somewhere in its five-year run that doesn’t).

And as a middle-aged guy who has always been aggravated by the way women’s roles in film and TV seem divided into two classes (ingenue, and mom), I’m absolutely thrilled that the powerful, strong, independent, sexy (it has to be said; she playing a succubus, for Pete’s sake!), tough, absolutely kick-ass woman who plays the lead is over 40 and (in real life) a mom.  A middle-aged woman who plays an independent person not mooning after some guy or is a mom?  Wow; who’d’a thunk?  And despite the “common wisdom” among Hollywood movie and TV types, it’s run for five seasons.  So put that in your sexist pipes and smoke it, you jerks!

Anna-Silk-as-Bo-in-Lost-Girl-TV-Series-2
Lead character, Bo, preparing to kick ass

And finally, I’m incredibly pleased at how unremarked the treatment of gays, lesbians, and bisexuals this show presents.  The lead character is a bisexual woman who has had men, women, and sometimes both as partners and lovers.  Various other characters are straight, gay, or lesbian, and no one makes a big point of it; it’s just part of their character.  We don’t have situations like “Will and Grace” or “Ellen” or many other shows and movies where a big deal is made of the fact that this or that character is gay or lesbian or bi and oh my god shouldn’t we get a lot of credit for being so brave?  Nope; it’s just a natural part of how the characters are portrayed.  And in my opinion, that’s what we’re driving towards, right?  Where being GLBT is so normalized and unremarkable that we don’t, well, remark on it.  (And a lesbian actress plays a lesbian character; heaven forfend!)

Now yes, this show definitely falls into the “guilty pleasure” category in many ways.  Being Canadian, it can show more nudity than US programs, and it takes this as far as it can–lots of beautiful women and men in very revealing clothing.  (Oh yes; men too.  You should see the scene where Bo, the main character, visits her mother’s house and is served–and offered “services” by–her mother’s shirtless, tight-leather-pants-wearing, hunky Chippendale’s male “thralls”.)  Lots of cleavage and tight leather pants and sex scenes.  Not to mention plenty of fighting with swords and knives and fists, claws and cross-bows, you name it.  Our Heroine has a trunk filled with weapons.

thralls
Beefcake on the hoof

So yes, “Lost Girl” is a guilty pleasure on one level, but on another, it’s quite a remarkable show.  If you at all like science fiction, fantasy, or strong, powerful, interesting lead characters, gender equality, and positively-presented (without a lot of self-congratulation) GLB characters and relationships, you might enjoy it, too.

Some Thoughts on Suicide

12 Tuesday Aug 2014

Posted by dougom in Fiction, Opinion, Uncategorized

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Tags

health, mental health, Robin Williams, suicide

imgres
Image courtesy of the Guardian Liberty Voice

As I write this, seemingly the world but certainly much of the country is mourning the death of the incredibly talented and comedically brilliant Robin Williams, possibly from suicide, according to the Tiburon sheriff.

With everyone and his brother–including me on Facebook–eulogizing Williams, I’m not going waste time on that.  Instead, I wanted to talk about the manner of his death, and a tiny little bit about the nature of his disease.

Now, I am not and never have been particularly suicidal.  I’m too arrogant and self-interested, and obnoxiously believe the world is generally a better place with me in it than without me.  But there was a time when I did, quite seriously, consider killing myself, and I’ll never forget it.

I suffer from chronic neck pain, a condition I’ve written about once or twice in various blogs here and there.  In my mid-30s, I was out skeet-shooting with my father-in-law and exacerbated a design flaw in my neck–my spinal column is very narrow up in the cervical area–causing a disk to bulge into my spinal cord, crushing some nerves and causing me immense pain.  And when I say “immense”, this is not typical Doug hyperbole; this is the kind of pain so intense that 12 Vicodin a day not only did not make me sleepy, but only controlled the agony sufficiently enough for me to minimally function.  I would wake at 3am in pain in advance of my 4am dose; I drove my car one-handed, the other propped painfully on the arm rest.  Etc.  It was unbelievable.  “Worse than labor pains, I’m told!” my orthopedic surgeon cheerfully told me.

I had surgery, relieving me of the worst of the pain, but since then, for the last 15 or so years, I’ve had associated pain around that area, at the base of my skull.  I get regular shots in the back of my head to control the pain; I go to the chiropractor regularly; I see a pain management doctor every 4 weeks; I take an almost-absurd cocktail of drugs.  By and large, the pain is controlled and “managed”, though I’m never quite free of it, even on the best days.

By and large.

But I do have occasional “flare-ups”, where the pain approaches and sometimes reaches the same levels of agony that I sustained back before the surgery.  And one day, sitting on the floor of the shower, head in hands, water pouring down on me, desperately waiting and praying that the additional morphine, Excedrin, Advil, and tequila I had ingested would do something, anything, to alleviate my agony, I reached the Dark Place.

If you’ve thought about suicide, seriously thought about it, thought about actually doing it, you know what I’m talking about.  The Dark Place is where you–literally–feel you can’t go on, you can’t take any more, the only way to end your suffering is to end your life.

“Cowardly”; “a waste”; “selfish”; I’ve heard all these and more with regard to suicide, and felt that way myself.  But in that Dark Place?  You’re in massive, unbelievable emotional (or in my case, physical) pain.  You can’t imagine it ever getting better, or going away.  You think of the days, months, and years of pain stretching ahead of you–decades of suffering, suffering, suffering–and you think, “What’s the fucking point?”

Think of me, there in that shower.  Naked (best not contemplate that image too closely!), cross-legged on the tiles, head hanging down, the water pounding down on the back of my neck,, the pain like someone who weighs 300 pounds pressing a dull knife into the back of my neck just below my skull over and Over and OVER and OVER again, endlessly, never to stop.  15 years of pain and suffering behind me.  My grandmother lived to be 90–40 more years of suffering and pain, pain, pain, endless pain stretching ahead of me.  Pain and bills and pain and guilt and pain and worry and pain and workworkwork and pain and . . .

And you think, ya know, I have plenty of morphine there in the bottle.  More than enough.  I’ll fall asleep and that’ll be it–no 40 years of constant, non-stop, unendurable pain.  Haven’t I given enough?  Haven’t I tried enough?  How long do I have to keep on before I get a friggin’ break?

Now obviously, I left the Dark Place.  No, that’s not entirely accurate; I thought of Sami and my two kids and the other folks who–God only knows why–love me and care about me, and I held onto that thought tight and hauled myself out of that Dark Place by desperate strength, holding on to the thin reed of hope that the pain would abate, would get better, and I wouldn’t be facing 40 more years of it, ever and ever amen.  And when I was done, I turned off the shower, dried off, and went and lay in bed for several hours, feeling like, well . . .

Do you remember the scene in Return of the King, when Frodo loses the ring, it’s destroyed, and he’s dangling over a river of lava, not convinced whether he should bother helping Sam haul him back up?  But he does, he climbs out of his own Dark Place–40 years of longing for the ring, and suffering the hurt of losing it, the pain of the spider’s sting, the pain from the knife wound in his shoulder, the PTSD of carrying that damn thing for so long–and lets Sam lead him out.  And then he passes out, waking up in a soft bed in Ithilien, Gandalf leaning over him.  Remember the look on Elijah Wood’s face?  He’s “saved”, yeah; he’s still alive, but he’s wounded, and exhausted, and clearly not entirely sure he really wants to go on.

Yeah, that.  That’s where I was that day, laying on that bed, trying to leave that Dark Place behind.

It sucks at you, the Dark Place, like an effin’ black hole.  It pulls at you with the gravity of a promise of an end, an end, dammit, to the suffering.  And after years, decades of suffering, why the hell would you not want an end?  Why wouldn’t you deserve an end?  Haven’t you done enough, suffered enough, tried enough to get “better”, to end the pain, to leave that Dark Place behind?  How much longer do you have to try before you’ve earned your rest?  Earned an end to all that?  And if that end is only The End, so what?  How much more do you expect a guy to take?

Now look:  I’m fine.  I can still see that Dark Place, still feel its gravity, but it’s no more effective on me than the gravity of Neptune is on planet Earth; it may perturb my orbit a tiny, essentially immeasurable amount, but that’s it, really.  I’ve seen that, for my own pain, my physical pain, there are other options, things can improve, and so my thin reed of hope is now more like a strong metal ladder, bolted to the concrete and wood framework of my life.  I’m in a safe place, and I’m not worried.  And if I get close to the Dark Place again, there’s this good, solid ladder.

But what about psychological pain?  Pain that is unquantifiable, literally “all in your head”?  And what if you’ve been suffering for 40 or more years?  And have made multiple trips to that Dark Place?  And are staring another 30 years of pain and suffering in the face, having tried multiple times to leave it behind, build your own ladder and bolt it to your foundation?  And what if your foundation is termite-riddled bare wood on dirt instead of a good ol’ solid concrete slab?  What then?

Yeah, metaphor-heavy.  I’m sorry.  But you see the point, don’t you?  You see how a person’s genius, their ability to make other people happy, to make other people laugh, doesn’t do jack when you’re trapped in that Dark Place, and not only can’t find a way out, but can’t even imagine a way out.  And even when you can, when you can bring up the image of escape, all you can think is, “And jesus yeah, I may get out of here, but what then?  30 more years of this?  No!”

Robin Williams is gone, maybe from suicide.  But you won’t hear from me about “what a waste”, or that it was “selfish”, or that he should have “battled harder”.  Unless you’ve been in that Dark Place yourself and climbed out–and like Williams, climbed out multiple time–you really should keep your opinions to yourself.  You don’t know.  Even I don’t know.  But from where I sit, feeling even the tiny tug of my own Neptune-distant Dark Place, I know enough not to judge.

We are without Robin Williams now, and the world is poorer for it.  But I understand why he decided to leave.  And maybe now you understand, just a tiny bit better.

New Story: Death Comes Calling

30 Sunday Mar 2014

Posted by dougom in Fiction, News

≈ Leave a comment

god_farside
Cartoon courtesy of Gary Larson

While I am still struggling to get back in the groove of writing fiction regularly, I did have a story that I cranked out a couple of months ago that I didn’t particularly like at the time but, in looking at it now, thought that it was at least worthy of putting on Wattpad so that people could shoot flaming arrows at it.  Or not, as suits them.  But I have gone so long without posting that I thought I better get off my lazy duff and post this at the very least, so there it is.

In brief, in a lengthy fit of pique over the fact that none of the financial barons who crashed our economy nor war-mongering politicians who got us involved in not one but two land wars in Asia (didn’t any of those ass-clowns watch “The Princess Bride”?), I dusted off some time-honored science fiction tropes and cranked out what is, essentially, a revenge fantasy.  It doesn’t have a plot per se; it’s one long rant.  But if you’re as PO’d as I am about the behavior of Our Glorious Corporate and Political Overlords over the last 14 years or so, maybe it will be cathartic for you.  Who knows?

Anyway, you can check out Death Comes Calling on Wattpad.

New Story: The Codex

28 Monday Oct 2013

Posted by dougom in Fiction, News

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

science fiction, short story, writing

Codex-seraphinianus-2vol
That is not the cover to my story, but it’s a durn interesting book!

I can never quite decide if taking time out from the two novels on which I’m working is a good thing–“Everyone needs a break now and then”–or a method of procrastination–“Why the hell aren’t you working on one of your books; how many stories can you keep in your tiny brain at the same time?”

Regardless, I find that I have been taking time out from my two novels–yes, two–to occasionally crank out a short story.  The latest entry came to me, literally, in a dream.  I dreamed the whole story, start to finish, including the title.  I woke up upon its completion, mostly because it creeped me out some, rolled over, jotted down some notes in my iPhone, went back to sleep, and then commenced work on it the next day.  It took 3 “writing units” to complete and took about a week, but on the whole it’s basically the same story as the one I dreamed.

It’ll be up to you folks to tell me if it’s any good.  In any event, it’s called The Codex and is available on WattPad.  Share and enjoy.   And if you do read it, please tell me what you think because I’m genuinely curious to find out if it’s good, or just a piece of crap.  I mean, when you dream something, it’s always hard to tell, don’t you think?

Steven King, “Doctor Sleep”, and Writing Styles

13 Sunday Oct 2013

Posted by dougom in Fiction, News, Opinion

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Tags

doctor sleep, stephen king, Zachary's

doctorsleepcover_us

As I’ve mentioned endlessly, I’m trying to write fiction.  Well, actually, that’s not true; I am writing fiction, practically every day; what I’m trying to do is get it noticed, read, and (one hopes) published.

What I’ve noticed is that as I’m listening to podcasts, or driving around, or reading books, I have a bunch of ideas about what to write about or what to include in my stuff or how to make it better, which I take down and try to integrate into my work.  So say if I’m listening to an SF writer on the “Geek’s Guide to the Galaxy” podcast and he renders some advice that I think is valuable, I make a note (mental or physical).

I’ve also been re-reading writing advice from various writers I like–the introductory comments Dan Simmons has to many of his short stories in his short story collections; Neal Stephenson’s pieces in “Some Remarks”; Steven King’s thoughts in “On Writing”.

I realize I’ve buried the lede here, but this is all a roundabout introduction to the fact that I just finished King’s book “Doctor Sleep”, and I thought it was simply tremendous.

King himself, in 1982’s collection “Different Seasons”, has said that his writing is “the literary equivalent of a Big Mac and a large fries from McDonald’s.”  Only King knows what he is trying to say by that, but I’ve always felt he meant that he meant his stuff to be horked down, that it was tasty (and hopefully filling) if not particularly nutritious, enjoyable, targeted for your mythical Middle American, and wasn’t to be put in the same category with Graham Greene or Gunter Grass or Alice Munro.

OK, fair enough.  But you as I read through a passage in “Doctor Sleep”, where the main character is helping another character to make the crossing from life into death–as cliched a topic as you can possibly imagine, really; how many thousands of writers have taken a hack at that one?–I found myself crying.  Now, I’m an emotional slob; Sami will tell you that.  I still cry in Star Trek II when Spock dies, even knowing he’s got many more years, TV appearances, and several movies still to go.  But it’s not often.  And here I was, sobbing at a piece of fiction, and staying up until after 3am to finish it.  (I’ll admit my emotional resources were at low ebb, but still.)

This is not McDonald’s McLiterature, and I’m sure King knows that, or at least hopes that it’s true.  No.  King is hit or miss, no doubt about it; you don’t crank out “The Stand” or “The Shining” on every try.  But this is a winner.  And as I struggle to incorporate the lessons I learned about style, pace, timing, and the like while reading this book (see how I brought it back to my lengthy intro there?), a better analogy occurred to me.

In Santa Cruz, there is a breakfast and brunch place called Zachary’s.  The food at Zachary’s is middle-american breakfast food with a California funky twist.  Bacon, but applewood-smoked bacon; eggs; pancakes, but whole-grain (if you want them); oatmeal molasses toast instead of white bread; that kind of thing.  But in the main, solid American breakfast food.  Eggs, coffee, juice, bacon, home fries, pancakes; stuff like that.  The coffee is horrible.  I mean, really horrible; the kind of horrible that you absolutely, positively want when you’re desperately hung-over and need coffee more than anything to wake you up in the morning.  It has always been remarkable to me how consistently awful Zachary’s coffee has been across the years; burnt, bitter, and probably capable of removing engine grease from locomotive diesels.  But somehow, with the excellent (and slightly California off-beat) breakfast food, it’s perfect, absolutely perfect.  I never have less than two cups.

And that’s what Stephen King’s writing is like.  Stephen King’s writing is like that awesome diner breakfast you had that one time in that podunk town that you absolutely didn’t expect, where somehow the awful coffee or the slightly crisped bacon or the too-sugary “maple” syrup (that wasn’t maple) made it even better, more filling, more perfect.  You know what I mean?  Where you walked out of there sated, totally full, feeling fine, feeling like, hey, the world ain’t so bad, I got some solid fuel in the tank finally and I’m ready to face life.  That’s the kind of breakfast I’m talking about.  That’s the kind of writer Stephen King, at his best, can be.  That’s the kind of writer I hope I am, or can be.

And that’s why you should read “Doctor Sleep” if you like solid, filling, American-style breakfast food horror/sf fiction.  You’ll feel full and satisfied.  And that’s saying a lot, don’t you think?

Some Writing Notes

04 Friday Oct 2013

Posted by dougom in Fiction, News

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Tags

novels, science fiction, steampunk, urban fantasy, writing, YA fiction

640x320_3831_Paris_at_the_20th_Century_2d_dirigible_steampunk_fantasy_picture_image_digital_art
Image courtesy of Gilles Roman Soilworker Artist

I haven’t posted in a while not because I haven’t had much to say, but because life has intervened.  For example, I spent an awesome four days visiting my bff in Maryland, celebrating his 50th birthday, watching guy movies, watching sports, going to the local RenFaire and doing guy things (throwing axes, knives, throwing stars, hatchets, drinking way too much, and eating cheesecake on a stick, which I’m sure many insurance carriers have already ruled an “unacceptable health risk”), going to museums–in short, having an awesome time while reminding myself what great friends I’m lucky enough to have.

And there’s been personal nonsense of which I’m sure you have little to no interest.

But on the positive side, I’m still writing.  Not as fast as I want, but regularly, and determinedly.  I completed and posted to Wattpad a short story of my mystery solving team Tosh and Zack, “The Red-head Experiment”; surf on over and check it out if you’re interested and please, do feel free to leave comments.

I’m also plugging away on my other two novels: The science fiction/urban fantasy, and the young adult steampunk (but with a twist!) one.  The latter is the one that’s consuming me the most; I don’t know if anyone will like it or want to read it, if any agents or publishers will be interested, but I’m very much loving the story and the characters that I’m discovering.  I’m up to just under 18,000 words, the plot is clear in my head, the main characters are fun to write, and if I’m lucky maybe I’ll have another 60,000+ word novel finished by the end of the year.  (In a world I truly believe is unique–a very definite twist in the usual steampunk scenario.  Which my friend Tim calls “the eurotrash of science fiction”.)

It’s a yarn, and I do love me a good yarn.  I will never be Pynchon or Hemmingway or Poe or Dickens; if I’m lucky, I’ll be (a very very unsuccessful) Steven King, style-wise.  A writer of yarns; a teller of tales.  Ones that I hope very much folks enjoy.

It’s rough sledding sometimes, raising two “special needs” kids, holding down a fulltime job, and trying in my copious free time to be a fiction writer.  But I’m trying and, if I manage to entertain even one person (beyond my personal circle of friends), I will have succeeded.  Truly.

A Study with Slugs: Final Chapters Available!

03 Saturday Aug 2013

Posted by dougom in Fiction, News

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Tags

mystery, novel, santa cruz

2011 Bobby Banana Slug 3 640x480

Well, I’ve been lax about notifying you–my loyal readers, whoever the heck you may be–about my recent chapter postings of my first novel, “A Study with Slugs”, on Wattpad.  Bad on me.  As I explained a couple of weeks ago, I’ve been traveling a lot, and in the previous week have been on vacation.

But I have been diligently posting chapters all the same, because I have OCD, and I just can’t stop until I’m done.  But it’s done.  You can now read Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16 (the conclusion), and Chapter 17 (the denouement in which, in fine A.C. Doyle/Holmesian style, Our Hero explains to Our Narrator all the details of the case that have not, as yet, come out.  Hey, he established the precedent; I’m just following it!)  So read and enjoy, or read and critique, or do whatever, but there you have it.

I expect to soon be posting the full novel here in ePub format for your downloading pleasure.  If you have been waiting for that, expect it sometime in the next few days.  (Though I still don’t have a cover image because my pal Paul the artist has totally fallen down on the job.  Hard for me to complain since he was doing it for free but still:  Damn!)

Coming up next will be a short story in the same milieu, with Tosh and Zack solving the mystery of the Red-headed experiment.  Don’t have to be much of a Sherlockian to know what the inspiration for that one is, yeah?  Hope you enjoy it; I’ve sure enjoyed writing it.

After that, I’m working on two separate novels:  A young-adult steampunk novel (with air ships, of course!), and a modern urban fantasy/SF/alternate worlds novel.  I don’t which one I’ll be cranking on the most, or if I’ll get distracted by another short story idea like I did with the Red-headed experiment Tosh/Zack story.  We shall see.  In the meantime, as they say: Watch This Space.

Two New Chapters Available

14 Sunday Jul 2013

Posted by dougom in Fiction, News

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Tags

fiction, mystery, novel, santa cruz

banana-slug-1-large
Image courtesy of Magickcanoe.com blog

I’ve fallen behind a bit in my blogging, I admit; I was traveling for work-related reasons, and I have found that when I travel, at the end of the day all I want to do is sit in my hotel room like a sack of suet, order room service, and watch a movie.  Usually a cartoon. I’m not particularly good at traveling, and it takes a lot out of me.  (Ironically, I enjoy being different places–it’s the getting there that I have a problem with.)

Also, this was in Ft. Collins, Colorado, at about 6000 feet of altitude, and given that I was only there for 3 days, I didn’t acclimate very much.  I mean, jeez, just a flight of stairs had me gasping, and I’m not in that bad a shape.

Be that as it may, allow me to compensate for those three or four of you not in my immediate family who are actually reading my book chapters as they come out, and tell you that I have posted both Chapter 12 and Chapter 13 of my mystery novel on Wattpad.  Surf on over, read, and (let us hope) enjoy.  And comment!

And We’re Up to Chapter 11 on Wattpad!

07 Sunday Jul 2013

Posted by dougom in Fiction, News

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

mystery, novel, santa cruz

friendly slug
Image courtesy of IRMacGuyver via the IGN boards

Now up to Chapter 11 of my mystery, which (in case I haven’t beaten it into the ground enough) is a novel that I wrote during last November’s National Novel Writing Month.  I’m pretty happy with it.  A few people are reading it.  One vanity publisher contacted me about it.  (Answer:  “No thank you.”)  It’s a start.

I’m hoping to soon finish a short story set in the same milieu, a young adult steampunk novel (the setting of which I think is pretty unique and don’t want to reveal until I’m ready to either send it to agents, publishers, or publish it myself), and a science fiction/urban fantasy novel.  I’ll finish the short story first for sure and make that available on Wattpad; the other two, I’ll just keep plugging along on, with occasional input from my friend Tim, my daughter Maggie, and (as always) Sam.

If you’re interested in watching the ongoing development of a fiction writer, from unpublished hack with stars in his eyes, to (one hopes) published author, you’ve come to the right place.  In the meantime, there’s “A Study with Slugs”, Chapter 11.  Surf on over and take a look.

A Study with Slugs Chapter 10 Now Up

04 Thursday Jul 2013

Posted by dougom in Fiction, News

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

mystery, novel, santa cruz

banana slug
Yet more slugs (Image courtesy of Stewarts’s Stewardship Adventures in Nature)

Yup, I’m not done yet; Chapter 10 of my not-magnum not-opus is up and ready for you to read on Wattpad.  Take a gander and, should you be so moved, leave a comment and let me know what you think!

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