Category Archives: Writing

Gone are the Days of Warlords

Some time back I tried to submit a story for a flash fiction contest. It was judged by Neil Gaiman. The theme was something like, “The future of classic sci fi.” So I jotted out this little piece at the last minute, sort of an homage to my love of the John Carter of Mars books by Edgar Rice Burroughs. What would Mars be like after several years of cultural exchange with our Earth? Little did I realize that the due time was British Summer Time, and not Eastern Standard Time. So, I missed the deadline by several hours. Here’s the story I wrote. I have an amusing anecdote after it.


Otan-Dur clambered up into the cockpit of the airship, chuckling at the naivety of the owners. Some folks still lived in the past, believing that theft had been permanently extinguished from Barsoom. And that attitude made Otan-Dur’s life so much easier.

Most people blamed the Jasoomians, or Earthlings as they called themselves. Barsoom had provided them with the technology to create airships kept aloft by the Eighth Ray, oxygen creation with the Ninth Ray, even interplanetary travel with the Tenth. Jasoom in turn provided them with the allure of criminal culture. Gangsters with Tommy guns defying the authorities. Thousands of years without theft, eliminated in a few months by a few ruthless entrepreneurs from Jasoom.

He had just finished hot-wiring the airship when he felt cold hard metal pressed against his back.

“Thank you for doing all the hard work for me,” a sultry woman’s voice said behind him. “How about you hop out real slow and leave the rest to me?”

Otan-Dur stepped down from the cockpit slowly. He didn’t want to give this woman any excuse to shoot him. As he descended, he brushed hard against the knob of the levitation tanks.

From the ground he saw a beautiful woman, dark haired and copper skinned, seated in the cockpit, radium pistol aimed at him. Like him, she was dressed in a jeweled leather harness and furs. She gave a wink and pushed the throttle forward. The silent propeller sprung into life and launched her forward.

Behind her trailed a miasma of light, a color not normally seen in nature. She probably wouldn’t run out of Eighth Ray within walking distance, but he took a grim satisfaction in tainting her victory.

He continued down the street, wondering if any new gangster films were playing at the cinema.


I did try shopping it around unsuccessfully. One place gave me extensive feedback on the piece from multiple reviewers, which was nice. But many didn’t realize that this was set in a world created by someone else. Which was extra surreal since they made a movie the same year. This was the best:

“I wasn’t sure why Jasoomians (Earthlings) were even brought up. Were the thieves Jasoom or Barsoom? It is said the Jasoomians were to blame, but wasn’t made clear as to who this man and woman are. The[n] we have the “Ray” idea. I love this concept that various “rays” provide things like power and oxygen — that has a nice magical-yet-scientific feel to it. But without more words to explain it, this felt like an intro chapter to a much longer work set in this new realm.”

It had not occurred to me before that anyone I submitted it to would be unaware of the source material. I didn’t want to risk someone thinking I created this, so I decided to just stop shopping it. I hope you enjoyed it.

28 Days of Night Vale Later

So, I got involved in one of those secret penpal things on Tumblr. A couple of them actually. One in particular was through a Welcome to Night Vale blog which paired up users with secret penpals. We were to write to them throughout February and reveal our secret identities on the 28th. It wasn’t an ideal thing, since my penpal never contacted me, the organizer got huffy when I had asked indirectly about it (because there had been previously posted instructions), and the person I was the secret penpal for never acknowledged receipt of anything I sent her.

But I had a stupid amount of fun writing these. So after the first couple days I started sending them to Dawn as well. And then I thought, “I should just post these all on my blog!”

I hope you enjoy one of my brief forays into, “This is sorta like fanfic, isn’t it?” Besides Night Vale, the only things I knew my secret penpal was into were Avengers and Supernatural. So if you’re wondering why there are superheroes and an Impala in Night Vale, that’s why.
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More Thoughts on “Being a Writer”

A while back I wrote a bit on the notion of whether or not someone is a writer, prompted by a mean response from Brian Michael Bendis. Even after posting it, I’ve mulled it around a bit. It sometimes takes me a while to process something, and the processing never really ends.

The thing that I keep thinking about is this: Harper Lee.

In 1960, she published To Kill a Mockingbird. It was a bestseller and won her the Pulitzer Prize in 1961. She published a couple essays after that, but that’s it. According to Wikipedia, she started writing a couple other books, one of them in the 1980s, neither of which she finished.

In 2011, a friend of hers shared the reason she gave for not writing again. “Two reasons: one, I wouldn’t go through the pressure and publicity I went through with To Kill a Mockingbird for any amount of money. Second, I have said what I wanted to say and I will not say it again.”

But she did start writing other stuff at one point. I wonder at what point she went from working on other projects to not writing anymore. Did she have writer’s block?

If Harper Lee had said she had writer’s block for 20+ years, would you say, “Maybe you’re not a writer?”

Not every writer is Harper Lee. Heck, some writers aren’t even Dan Brown. But if you hit a slump of any sort, at what point do you lose your ability to call yourself a “writer”? There’s no answer beyond the one you decide to believe in. The only real thing you can say that if you aren’t writing something, nothing is getting written.

How to Be a Real Writer

[Edit: I felt inspired to write a followup post.]

So this thing happened on Tumblr, and everyone lost their shit. Which is the way of Tumblr, I guess. But it started with someone asking Brian Michael Bendis, “what advice do you have for someone that has had writers block for the past 6 or 7 years?”

this will sound harsh but you’re probably not a writer.

writers write every day. it’s ok, not everyone is.

but if you consider yourself one, get off your ass and get back to work!! write about why you haven’t been writing . anything. just write.

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Marketing Like a Douche

Shilling is a crappy part of being a writer. Or publisher even, since I technically qualify as that too. I really hate doing it, and when I do shill I try to do it in respectful, non-spammy ways.

I also make no money as a writer and even less as a publisher. So there are obviously some flaws to how I market.

Still, nothing turns me off more than strangers randomly trying to mass network with me. I wouldn’t even think I was worth shmoozing, but it does happen once in a blue moon. (A friend and I were approached after we were on a panel at a tiny convention by someone who wanted to press their business card on us. I had no idea what to do.) Even my tiny little zine, Mad Scientist Journal, gets a bit of spamming from people who don’t know me but want to team up or something.

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A Life Lived in Fear

I’ve started and trashed a few different blog posts over the last few weeks. I have a lot of things gnawing away at me that I want to comment on but haven’t really found the right words for it. But I had some recent and unexpected news that I’m trying to process. So while it’s fresh, I thought I’d share.

A while back I got permission to self-publish my novella, Kensei, as well as a sequel once the rights reverted back to me. It’s a shared world and a good chunk of the characters are taken straight from other sources. Some are co-created with other authors who have played around in that world.

It’s not something I figure I can shop around, but I’ve had at least one sequel in mind for this book for a while. And the scant handful of serious Kensei fans (both of them!) have wanted one. I’m easily led around by a stroked ego under the right circumstances. So I have been working on trying to have a manuscript ready for when the rights revert back to me. I’m in the outlining stage right now.

This week I realized that I had misremembered my contract. I thought the rights reverted back to me in three years. It actually reverts back to me in two. Meaning that I am looking to have things that I need to decide on. And then the fear settles in.

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