Category Archives: writing

Sir Chimbo the Kung Fu Astro-Monkey

This is a rough timeline for an abolutely silly idea I have.

1935 Shanghai – Dr. Lin Ho, master of a number of disciplines both scientific and mystical, had a breakthrough in his efforts to project his essence into an animal. Intending to use this as a method to infiltrate Nazi and Communist forces, he instead granted a portion of his intelligence. Chi, and knowledge into a gibbon he’d been keeping as a companion. He had named the ape Chen Bo, but given the ape’s limited ability to speak, its nickname quickly became Chimbo.

The doctor spent the next five years teaching and refining Chimbo’s abilities. The conferred essence, intense exercises, and mixtures of medicinal and herbal treatments also increased his physical stature. His intelligence continued to grow as did his knowledge of languages and the mystic arts. He was able to fashion a necklace which gave his words a clarity which exceeded his physical limitations.

In early 1940, Dr. Lin shared with his friend that he’d been invited to a retreat in the mountains of Tibet. He assured Chimbo that he would return. Until then, he was sending the gibbon to England to study with old friends at Cambridge. While his studies were largely conducted in secret, it could not be helped that he would make friends.

Eventually, one such friend went to war and was captured on a secret mission. It was then that Chimbo was sent on his first secret mission. Several such successful missions followed, at least two resulting in saving members of the royal family. The Queen recognized his contribution to the war effort and granted him official citizenship and made him a knight.

Once the war was over, Chimbo went to America. Dr. Lin still hadn’t returned from his studies in Tibet, though the pair stayed in regular contact via astral projection. Joint missions with Americans in the last months of the war had given him contacts in the scientific community. Fascinated with rocketry, he was able to secure a position working with Wernher von Braun. A combination of Chimbo’s mystical and scientific skills along with the secrets von Braun brought with him from the Nazi’s own secret programs soon resulted in a ship capable of escaping the confines of the Earth.

Christened the Sun Wukong, the ship enabled up to five travelers to explore the inner solar system. Chimbo and his crew were among the first to encounter the Martians and thwart an invasion. An uneasy peace treaty was forged.

The crew of the Sun Wukong:
Paul Dirac – English physicist
Dr. Percy Juiian – American chemist.
Dr. Rachel Carson – american Biologist and writer
Amelia Earhart – pilot, rescued by Chimbo in the early forties from an island in the Pacific.

House of Phobos vol. 2 – Call for Pitches

House of Phobos Vol 1 Cover
House of Phobos Vol 1 Cover

Last year I put together a collection of short stories call House of Phobos vol. 1. It’s sold well, as collections go, and I’ve wanted to put out a second book for some time. I want this one to be more of a true anthology (mostly stories from other authors). I’ll be the publisher, hire an editor, and get another amazingly terrifying cover from Scott Pond. I will probably even include one or two of my own tales, but this is for me to showcase the talent of other authors.

So, here’s what I’m looking for:

Flash fiction (500-1500 words) – For these I’ll pay $10. If it’s a reprint, I’ll pay $5.

Short stories (1500-8000 words) – For these I’ll pay $.01/word up to $50. Half that for reprints.

For that I’m asking for an irrevocable, non-exclusive, worldwide license to distribute the creative works in an electronic text format. I have no plans to make this a print book or an audio book. If I do that, I would negotiate for those rights separately and pay additionally for them.

What the story needs to be about. Fear. Show me a phobia come to life. Make it as visceral (with little actual viscera please) and terrifying as you can. You can do that in almost any genre, but lets face it, horror is where this would work best. Throw in a dash of romance or science fiction or fantasy if you like, but scare our readers.

My budget has its limits, but I would like to have as many as eight total stories. Carving out one slot for me, that leaves seven. I hope to have more than that number submit. To make life easy one me, I’ll be accepting pitches, NOT COMPLETED STORIES, starting today and closing on Halloween at midnight. Send me an email with “Phobos Submission: Story Title” in the subject to scott@scottroche.com. Include the phobia, your proposed length, if this is a reprint, and a 250 word max. synopses in the body of the email. All of this will help me plan the budget and make sure there’s no (or minimal) duplication of phobias.

I would prefer that you do not duplicate any of the phobias from volume one (spiders, dentists, heights, failure, losing your memory, loneliness, darkness). There will be at least one clown story. There has to be. If you want that slot, you may have to tear it from my cold, dead fingers.

Once my dance card is full, I will contact the selected authors and give them a deadline.

Review – Armageddon Bound By Tim Marquitz (E-book)

armageddon bound I’ve been following Tim on various social media sites for a while. His offerings seem pretty popular and he’s a prolific dude. I wasn’t sure if they’d be the kind of thing I’d enjoy, but when I saw this book was available for $.99 I took a chance. Is this book devilishly clever or does it deserve to be thrown into the outer darkness?

Half-devil and miles from anything resembling heroic, perpetual underdog Frank “Triggaltheron” Trigg is the last man standing against Armageddon.

As the favorite nephew of the Devil, Frank has led a troubled life, but he’d always had his uncle’s influence to fall back on. Now, with God and Lucifer coming to terms and leaving existence to fend for itself, his once exalted status of Anti-Christ-to-be does little to endear him to the hordes of angels and demons running amok in the Godless world.

With help from the members of DRAC, an organization of wizards, psychics, telepaths, and low-end supernatural beings, Frank must thwart the pro-Armageddon forces and rescue an angel in whose life rests the fate of humanity.

Better luck next time, humanity.

The Goods – There’s a load of very dark humor here. That appeals to me quite a bit. When you have a protagonist like Trigg, who’s very in touch with his demonic side, it can be a lot of fun. The protagonist’s nature isn’t what fascinates me most, though. This is a universe where God and Satan just threw up their hands and left humanity and the angels/demons to their own devices. The forces who are aware of what’s happened are fairly sure this means there is no longer an afterlife. Since hell, and I think heaven, are still places you can go, I’m not sure why that’s the case. Some demons/angels believe they can bring about the end of the world and it won’t be the end of everything. That’s the crux of this particular book. Essentially, all bets are off. I want to see more exploration of this.

When you’ve got characters like angels and demons running around, it would be all too easy (and an amateur mistake in my opinion) to make them all live up to their reputations. Instead, Tim has some angels and demons working together. Some demons are looking after mankind (albeit for their own reasons). There are angels who’ve seriously gone off the beam. Trigg and his, literally angelic, “cousin” Scarlett butt heads and also manage to work with one another. In short, he makes these characters more multi-dimensional than others might. I like that a lot.

The overall plot is strong enough, though it’s mostly a rollicking action piece. Tim does action pretty well. There are some minor issues here and there, but overall once things get rolling, they don’t slow down.

The Bads – This is, if not a first novel, a very early novel by Tim. It’s also independently published. As a result of both of those things, there are problems. The characters run fairly shallow. Minor mistakes are made regarding gun terminology and their operation. I didn’t catch any spelling or grammar mistakes, but I was reading at light speed thanks to the pacing. None of these were enough for me to be a deal breaker. I spoke with him about my concerns and he’s addressed them in future books in the series.

The Verdict – This is a fun read. The humor runs a little crude. The protagonist is a jerk in the same way that many fantasy/noir protagonists often are. He’s a bumbler and thinks with his dick. All of that said, there’s something about him that appealed to me. He wants to do the right thing, but doesn’t quite know how. He’s surrounded by people trying to show him the way. Sometimes he even listens to them. My hope is, the things which hurt this book will indeed improve as the series develops. I had a good enough time to risk the full price on the second book. If you like Butcher, you’ll probably enjoy this. I give this book three and a half rounds of out five.

BLOG – http://www.tmarquitz.com/
TWITTER – https://twitter.com/Marquitz
Amazon Link – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B008L8J0JA/

District 21 Part Five


Cloning facility by adamkuczek on DeviantArt

Read all of the episodes of Kain’s story here.

Kain and Lilith walked for what seemed like four or five kilometers, taking twists, turns and in one case another ladder. Finally, she placed her pale hand against a palm lock on the corridor wall.

Kain wouldn’t have even noticed the lock, much less the hairline cracks which made up the outline of a door. That was, unless ze was looking for it specifically with zir senses turned to max. Ze chuckled at the cleverness of it. “Why in the void would anyone make that?”

Lilith walked into the space beyond and lights came on. The room was large and looked like a disused shelter of sorts. There were three sets of bunk beds three levels high. Storage cubbies on each of the side walls were filled with sealed plastic boxes. Their contents were a mystery due to the opaque material. A few cobwebs fluttered in the corners of the room and it smelled of neglect. “This is why. There are rooms like this all over the city and everywhere the population was over a certain amount when they were made. We’ve since turned them to our own uses.” She made a pass with her hands and the quality of the light changed, becoming more diffuse and blue rather than white.

The bunks disappeared, nothing more than a high quality holo. In fact, the cobwebs and even some of the dust vanished. In their place was a room you could operate in and a wall that was more of a vid screen. Or perhaps a window? Ze couldn’t be sure, but none of that mattered for the moment. The view ze now had was of a series of cylinders with one body floating in each. After staring closely for a few seconds, ze could tell it was a projected image from somewhere else. “I could run up a vid like this in half a day. It proves nothing.”

Lips formed a moue of annoyance. “This is real. I know, you don’t want to take my word for it, but we must make sure you’re on board before we actually let you join us.”

“So before I can receive the reward, one I don’t know is real, I have to put everything on the line.” Ze held up a hand to stave off protests. “I told you, it’s not about the money, or even the new body. It’s about the fun. You want to unmake our current society. You’ve gone to great pains to make it happen. That’s almost enough.”

Lilith snorted, more like a bull than a laugh. “What would put the fun over the top for you?”

“To get back to my people, without them chilling me en route, they require a pound of flesh to know it’s righteous. I don’t have proof, won’t be any me left to help you. And they might decide to strip mine my core processor, take the memories, and use them to find and blaze you off the map.”

Her pale skin turned a shade of green. “What’s to stop them from doing that even if you do bring them this proof?”

“They’re business types. I’ve done too much for them to cut any ties without provocation. There will be other jobs.” Something near zir forearm clicked and whirred. “Besides, can’t you just grew a replacement?” A thin rod slid out from under zir sleeve. As it got longer it tapered to a nearly invisible point. The steel whip looked rigid enough, but ze could use it to remove head from neck or hand from arm.

“I can, but I’d prefer not to. If that’s the only way.” Her pallor and slumped posture spoke of fear and subjugation. Emotions she likely hadn’t felt in a while.

Kain brought his hand back and down, aiming for the spot above her wrist bone.

Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four

 

District 21 Part Four


Background design : corridor by ThoRCX on DeviantArt

Read all of the episodes of Kain’s story here.

Kain couldn’t smile, per se. That was more of an advantage than one might think. Ze still grinned on the inside. A hump, where zir right shoulder would be, exploded like a giant zit. If, that is, zits were filled with dozens of tiny darts. In case a face full of metal wasn’t a deterrent, each one was tipped with a virulent strain of flesh eating bacteria.

The scream, cut short by the hail of flechettes, indicated the being on the receiving end might not have to worry about the bugs.

“I don’t like being ambushed.” Kain took a couple of steps forward, enjoying the mix of horror and anger on the woman’s face.

To her credit, Lilith kept her hands where they were and more or less maintained her composure. Once she adjusted her attitude. “I can see that. Fortunately, he can be replaced.”

“Can you? I asked you before, and if there’s a thing I hate worse than being jumped, it’s repetition, why should I listen to you?”

“You’ve come this far, and if you try and leave without me, you won’t breathe fresh air again. No matter how many nice tricks you have under your raincoat.” Fear had been replaced by a steely determination.

According to the readouts flickering behind zir eyes, she wasn’t lying. The why of how of her threat didn’t matter. Ze did so love to feel the rain on zir skin. What was left of it. “Go on, then.” The mass driver went back to its home.

“Everything I’ve said is true. And we have enemies, as is apparent by the contract you have.” Lilith licked her luscious red lips. “I want you to take care of those problems we have. We’re not without resources. Since I wasn’t able to beat you, as I was the ones who came before you, I want you to join us.”

Kain squinted. “You want to pay me off to double cross my employer? I’d have to be careful. It would take a lot of money, but also a compelling reason. I don’t believe in your cause. Humanity as it was, proved to be weak and full of itself. We’re better off as we are.”

Lilith stepped forward and placed her hand gently on the plate on Kain’s lower face. It was smooth, warm, and made of flexible scales so small as to give it the illusion of being one piece. “You are? Wouldn’t you love to have everything back that you’ve lost? While I see merit in the improvements made to your form, I know enough to be certain most of them weren’t your idea. The ones I’ve seen are all military grade. You have more than two legs, don’t you?”

Kain nodded. He couldn’t feel her skin on his face, but could sense the pressure. She was barking up the wrong tree. Mostly. There was potential to what she was saying for other reasons. “You can reverse the changes they’ve made to me?”

“Better than that. I can regrow an entire new body for you. Then we can take that beautifully murderous mind and move it into its new home.” Lilith leaned in close enough to kiss Kain on the cheek. “How does that sound?”

“You have my attention again, Lilith. Try anything like you did with your boy back there, and they won’t be the only one who eats it.”

She pressed her lips to a small patch of skin that could still be thought of as original. Bristles of hair brushed her lips. She shuddered, though whether from delight or disgust it couldn’t be said. A bit of red was left behind on the greenish white surface. When she backed away, her smile was firmly in place. “I’ll keep that in mind. Let’s finish our little journey and we can talk about the details.”

Part One
Part Two
Part Three

 

District 21 Part Three


Blue Eyes by Zurh on DeviantArt

Read all of the episodes of Kain’s story here.

Lilith. Ze had enough knowledge to find the name amusing. Given zir name, ze’d certainly been the recipient of zir own set of jokes and comments. Perhaps this one chose the name on purpose or maybe it was just a happy accident. “So, Lilith, we can talk about why someone would want to chill you. Then maybe we can figure out a way to make this fun for the both of us.”

“Fun?” Her full lips curled into a smile. “What about the money? Or the reputation?”

Ze shrugged misshapen shoulders. “I don’t need either. They both serve their purposes, but may have a lower priority.”

Lilith shrugged off the red rain slicker and let it slump to the floor. The black catsuit she had on underneath was made from some diamond nanotube weave. it let scans through and was breathable, but would stop nearly any kind of penetration. Kinetic energy was still an issue. It also did interesting things to her full figure, hiding nothing but revealing nothing fully. “Fair enough. Where we’re going, we’ll have the privacy to talk business.” She reached down and pulled back a section of the thin flooring squares used in these sorts of hotels. The metal underneath was stained, but solid enough. After pressing hard for three seconds and releasing, the section popped up enough so she could pull at it and lever it open.

If ze had eyebrows they would be crawling up zir head. But, ze didn’t and that made for an excellent poker face.

Lilith went down the ladder first, into the pitch below. If the darkness bothered her or slowed her down, she gave no sign.

Kain adjusted zir eyes with a series of rapid blinks to be able to see what awaited zir. It looked like nothing more than some kind of service tunnel. Fitting into the hatch with zir oddly shaped body was a challenge, but ze managed it with a few wiggles. Ze was even able to pull the panel closed behind zir with a click. It would leave the carpet square off to one side, but there was little to be done about that.

Once at the bottom of the ladder, she lead them through a series of tunnels. Wide enough to drive a small car through, navigating it wasn’t hard. It was still pitch black, but she moved with calm assurance.

Kain rethought the notion that she wasn’t an upgraded human. She’d have to have some kind of eye mod to be able to see, unless those blue eyes were some sort of lens. Ze pulled the mass driver free and held it, more for comfort than anything. Ze was nervous, but it was the kind of nervous you got right before you opened a present.

After at least three minutes, she stopped. “Here’s good.” Her voice echoed softly in the dark. She reached into a pocket on one sleeve and twisted something. Soft reddish light streamed from where epaulets would be on her armor.

“Talk to me about why I shouldn’t chill you or you me. I don’t mind an interesting trip, but I’ve got places to be.”

“You’ll like this, Kain. I’m part of a small group of beings who wants to return the human race to what it once was.” The smile on her face was brilliant, even in the low light. “We are all fully human, and I’m their leader. The ones who want me dead are the ones responsible for the world being what it is.”

Kain didn’t think the world as it was was such a bad thing. Ze was tempted to shoot her in those crazy teeth. “How so?”

“I know the official story is there simply isn’t enough pure human genetic material left to re-populate. All we have are genetically modded people and a large chunk of mutants. That was no accident.”

“Part of the sodding hyper-war, wasn’t it?” Kain was once sure of that fact, but this Lilith had a quality about her that made zir want to believe what she said. A charisma that insinuated its way into a beings’ bones.

She wagged a finger. “Official story says yes. My story says, there was no hyper war and the leaders wanted sentient life on Earth to be beholden to the government to reproduce. The war, such as it was, was a sham.”

Kain chuffed. “A little too much to believe. And if I did, why should I care? I ain’t planning on doing any reproducing.” Ze pointed the mass driver at her forehead. “One more time with feeling. Why shouldn’t I chill you right now and claim the bounty?”

“You do, and your dead.” The male voice was deep, but smooth rather than gravelly. It came from more or less behind and above Kain. The whine of a large energy discharge ramping up couldn’t be ignored.

District 21 Part Two

Cyberpunk by vladimirpetkovic on DeviantArt

Read all of the episodes of Kain’s story here.

Kain continued to track the woman through the streets of the district. Whoever she was, fear didn’t appear to be on her screens. No one approached her, not strange in itself, since most beings tended to keep to themselves. Still, there were other dangers on the street. Everything from king rats to the five-oh could take you down.

Finally, they arrived at a hotel Kain was familiar with. Ze had never stayed there zirself, but ze had done business there more than once. The red script on the sign was neo-kanji and proclaimed the building was dry and possessed clean sleep cells. Both of those claims were likely false, but anything to get out of the persistent drizzle.

When ze stepped into the lobby, ze wasn’t surprised to be met by a weapon. That it was a vibro-stiletto in the thin fingered hand of his prey, rather than a slug thrower or a shocker, was the surprising bit.

Her black hair, undaunted by the moisture, stuck out in all manner of directions. In the buzzing yellow light of the hotel’s lobby, her eyes were no less haunting and blue. Her lips were just as full and crimson. She wasn’t zir type, but Kain would be hard pressed not to call her a beauty under most being’s standards. “Why are you following me?” Her voice was a dusky contralto. It wasn’t electronically modulated and was probably her natural voicebox.

Did she not have any implants? Fascinating. “To kill you. Eventually.” Kain was many things, but ze was no liar.

“What’s to stop me from killing you?” Her gaze roamed over the bits of flesh visible on Kain’s face, seemingly unperturbed by the amount of exposed circuitry and scar tissue. Not to mention the metal plate bolted over the area where a mouth and jaw should be.

Ze spoke again, voice emanating from the vox-box at zir throat. “Nothing. Curiosity?” Ze shrugged. “Maybe we could both not chill the other, for a few seconds?”

The tip of the stiletto dipped, and it ceased its low hum. “Maybe. Tell me who hired you.”

Kain chuckled, the sound like an ancient gearbox failing. “Professional courtesy keeps me from that. I can tell you they don’t like you very much. Me? I’m beginning to appreciate you. I can also tell you, they want you dead for a nice chunk of cred and no one else in the Districts wanted to do it.”

The woman smiled. “I can imagine. That means you’re stupid and greedy.”

Kain shrugged, zir own slicker a misshapen set of lumps. “Also ugly. Call it how you see it. But I’ll chill you if I want to. You would have already been dead a bit ago, if I’d pulled the trigger.”

“Your mass driver would have misfired. I spotted you early on.” She slipped the blade under her left sleeve. Her head cocked to one side, she smiled. Her teeth were bright and even. “Maybe we’re both just that good. I’ve heard things about someone like you who calls themselves Kain.”

“Only one of me. They didn’t give me a name for you. What can I call you?” Ze glaced around the lobby, surprised the Otto who manned it wasn’t chattering at them. Then he saw the poor glitcher’s robotic head was separated from its body.

“Lilith will do.”

 

District 21 Part One


Commission: Grid by KM33 on DeviantArt

Read all of the episodes of Kain’s story here.

It was always raining in this District. They claimed it was to balance the amount it didn’t rain in other places, but if they really had a lock on weather control, would that be an issue?

On balance, the only thing that the rain adversely effected in Kain’s life was zir underwear was never fully dry. That could make a being really pissy. Ze walked the Districts, doing the jobs no other being wanted to do. In effect, the pissiness helped zir do zir job. This time ze was here to put a hit on someone. It wasn’t personal. It was just business.

Ze pulled out zir mass driver and checked the safety. The small projectile weapon would put a massive hole in any being’s head. It was a mercy, really. One being’s overkill was another being’s conscientiousness. Ze tucked the mass driver in zir coat and stopped on the corner. Once ze had line of sight on where the target was supposed to be, ze pulled out the ancient vape inhaler and keyed its warmup sequence. Soon, Kain was breathing out plumes of smoke that smelled and tasted like an approximation of cooked meat. It was all synth, and was a wretched habit, but ze needed an occasional reminder of why this work needed to be done. Two more jobs like this and ze could afford an actual piece of farmed meat. It would be vat grown, but it wasn’t like cows were a real thing.

A flash of red and the target was visible. Their rain coat was the color of arterial human blood.

Ze brought out the mass driver and paid close attention to the readout. Distance of twenty meters. Adjust for the rain, drop, and drift. Ze was just about to close the relay and send this being to the void when Kain saw the face.

The being looked female, honest to void, pre-hyper war female. The lips were full and almost as red as the slicker. Wide blue eyes and black hair were so vivid it could have been from a holo. It was hard to tell if the water on her face was rain or tears.

Kain’s eyes roved down her body and saw the suggestion of breasts under the coat. With an adjustment of the scope, ze was able to confirm from heat signatures and hi-res computer tomography that she had all of the internal and external organs expected from a pure female. Ze couldn’t pull the trigger on a creature so rare. Once the mass driver was powered down and safe, ze broke out into the pouring rain. Following her was the only option for now.

Once ze was able to find out where she was staying, ze would talk with the being ze contracted with. One thing Kain hated most was being lied to. Even if the lie was a sin of omission.

Location, Location, Location (Writing Advice)

I occasionally get asked for writing advice (which means some people think I know what I’m doing). One of those I most often get asked is, how do I write? Now, the smart ass in me wants to answer that with “just start pounding keys”. So as not to appear more of an ass than I usually do, I try and say something more helpful. Here’s one answer to that question, which is really “how do I write more/better/as awesomely as you do?”.

Location #1 (Butt In Chair) – This is really the most key of all locations. You need to get your booty in the seat, whether it’s in front of your keyboard or at a desk with pen and notepad. It may sound like I’m still on the smart ass train (TOOT TOOT! TICKETS PLEASE!!). Really and truly, you can find all kinds of excuses not to put yourself physically in the place to write.
I need to wash the dog.
I need to feed the kids.
I need to go to work.
I need to make the sweet love to my spouse.
Yes. All of these things needs must be done. If you want to write, though, this is key. This really looks like making the writing a priority. So, it’s a little more than the overly simplistic advice that it appears to be. But not much. If you want to write and you don’t do this one then the rest aren’t going to happen.

Location #2 (Writing Space) – This one can be tough. It’s going to vary widely from person to person. You need to find the right environment for you to write in. Yes, thanks to the wonderment of technology, one can write anywhere. The key is finding the place that works for you. The most idea may be a dedicated writerly shed a la Chuck Wendig. Not all of us are fortunate enough to have one of those. Heck, Chuck didn’t have one of those until recently. More realistically, it mean finding a place where you can minimize distraction and maximize productivity. I find that for me, the local coffee shop is a font of productivity for me. Paul Cooley likes to write at his local pub. You might find that those public places are too noisy or distracting in their own right. I can’t tell you what’s right for you. Once you find it, use it.
There are other elements to this like lighting, music, the necessary equipment, little tchotchkes. It’s all about making the space you’re in one that helps you get words on the page. If you don’t have this and you don’t have your butt in the chair then it can make the next location a pain.

Location #3 (Headspace) – This is one of the most important places to be, in the right headspace. This means that once you’ve put your butt in the chair and you’re in your preferred place in the universe, you’re in a good frame of mind to do the deed. There are a lot of ways to get into that headspace and it too varies from writer to writer. Here are some things that help me:
Have a plan – This can look like a really robust outline. It can also be just a sentence or two describing the next thing that will happen.
Tie your editor to a chair and gag them – I’m talking about your internal editor here. This is a trick to learn. It’s easier for some people than others. This is writing time, not editing time. One thing that’s helped train me is Write or Die. It puts me on a timer and screams at me if I slack off.
Good self care – You need to make sure that the basic biologicals are taken care of. You need to sleep. You need to eat right. You need to take your meds (if you’re on prescribed medication as many writers I know are). You need to poop. Don’t give yourself any reason to get up out of that chair once you’re in place.
Support – If you have a spouse, roommate, or other person in your life that can reassure you/kick your ass that also helps. This writing is a solo gig, but having people cheering you on/threatening you bodily is great motivation.

Now, there’s something I need to say here. You can still write anywhere! If you chose a pub and it’s closed on a day you want to write, have a backup plan. Don’t make this space a requirement for your writing to happen. It should be conducive to writing and hopefully make the words flow like sweetest honey, but I’m not giving you the excuse to only write in this space. If you’re just not “in the mood” then write a sentence or two and then write another sentence or two and see if that gets you there. None of these things are required for you to do the deed. Not having them shouldn’t stop you. They’re just things I know that has helped me.

So, what helps you? Give me the details on your locations and how you get to them.

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Stealing the First Chair

DM-NO On Facebook the other day I asked the question, “What story has your favorite secondary character, the one that really outshined the primary character?”. I got a whole slew of answers.

Fiona – On tv, it’d have to be Avon in Blake’s 7. He’s given all the best lines.

Nobilis – Nearly all of the secondary caracters in the Stephanie Plum novels are incredibly awesome, bug Grandma Mazur stands head and shoulders above the rest.

Rick – Game of Thrones: Tyrion and The Princess Bride: Inigo Montoya

Rebecca – The Shining

Mark – Wheel of Time. Mat was way cooler than Rand.

Chris – Probably “Sword of Truth” before Goodkind beat a dead horse with pulp.

Thomas – Lt. Dan!

Dan – Easy. Han Solo.

Wolf – (Almost) every single character in Scott Siglers Earthcore!

Steve – Brian Daley’s JINX ON A TERRAN INHERITANCE series. Alacrity Fitzhugh made those books awesome.

Chris – Harry Dresden has some of the best secondary characters ever. Bob, Susan, the Alphas, McCoy, Butters…

August – Thomas (Dresden Files) and (i)n Robin Hobb’s Farseer trilogy, The Fool, although he becomes a much bigger character in later trilogies.

Scott aka “Jar Jar” – Star Wars: The Phantom Menace… that Jar Jar is a dreamboat.

Dave – The Scar, by China Mieville. I love the protag, but Uther Doul is hard to beat

Laura – Hmm, That’s a hard one Book, I would have to say Deborah from the Evolution series by Starla Huchton, TV show: Gajeel from Fairy Tail. Movie: The Irishman from Braveheart.

TwoStepsFromHellsmScott aka “Jar Jar” – Seriously though: In Raymond Feist’s first four books in the Riftwar series (Magician: Apprentice; Magician: Master; Silverthorn; and Darkness at Sethanon), Jimmy The Hand shines as my favorite. He (literally) steals the show.

Timothy – Hyperion by Dan Simmons is full of amazing characters.

Thomas – There’s always john smith, John smith, John smith, John smith, John smith, John smith & John smith from JC Hutchins 7th son novels.

James – Gurney from Dune. Especially played by Sir Patrick Stewart.

That’s quite the list. As an author I’ve had that happen I’m sure. One really interesting instance is from my book Two Steps from Hell. We get to know one character somewhat posthumously. When I got the chance to write a story for Dirty Magick: New Orleans, I decided I wanted to use the same universe in my story since it took place in New Orleans. I also decided that I wanted to use this dead character, Willie Evans, as my protagonist. Only I needed him to be alive. So I placed the story in TSfH’s past. In writing this story I fell in love with him even more. That makes me feel a little bad about his ultimate fate, but we all become worm food sooner or later. And this way I get to play with him for a little longer.

The goal for any writer, I believe, is to make all of your characters so rich and so real that you could tell your stories with any of them. You don’t want to outshine your protagonist. That does happen in some of the above stories. I’m thinking of one Scott Sigler story in particular (CHANG BANG!!). It also happens, in my opinion, in Patrick McLean’s How to Succeed in Evil, where the comic foil become my favorite. Thankfully the main character just shines in a different way.

Here’s a bit from my story “Stigmata” that will give you some insight into Willie:

He took a moment to look around. The ceiling was crazy high, and the benches were gorgeous things made of wrought iron. He walked past the font of holy water and dipped his fingers in. He flicked the water into his own face, hoping it would wake him up a little. “Hello? Anyone in here?” His words echoed back to him. The place was deserted. “Maybe I can catch a few winks and go to the nearest crowded cafe.” He still wasn’t sure why or who was chasing him. It could have been nothing more than his own personal demons, but drunk or straight he had never been this paranoid without reason.
If he could just spot who it was, he’d call his sister the detective. She’d ream him out in good fashion, but then she’d listen and maybe he could crash on her couch for a day or two while she looked into it. Until he could identify them, it wouldn’t do any good. She’d chalk it up to his penchant for telling stories and ask him when he was going to get his shit together.
Halfway down the center aisle, he saw the crucifix. They were the creepiest fucking things. Christians complained about Islam being a religion of violence, but they seemed to forget that a man on a massive torture device hung in the middle of theirs. He looked closely at the artifact. He’d always thought Christ was supposed to be naked. This guy was wearing all black. He had the crown of thorns and blood smeared face Willie always heard about, but the blood looked wet in the candlelight.
When he smelled blood and shit, he realized this particular torture victim was flesh and bone and not a wooden representation. Now he had a reason to call Helen. He just had to find a phone.

So, who’s your favorite second fiddle who jumped over to the first chair?

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