Pirates!

It's been absolutely ages since we last went to the cinema but there's a clutch of good films all coming out at the same time (like buses... typical) so last night we headed off to Solihull for a meal out and a movie.

The meal was at a newish restaurant called Giraffe, part of a chain that (like so many others) seems to be threatening world domination and springing up in towns and cities across the land. Luckily, it's very nice. We ate in one in London a few years back and were impressed, and were still impressed last night. They specialise in 'world cuisine', which basically means a little of everything, but with the emphasis on Tex-Mex.

The film was Pirates of the Caribbean 4: On Stranger Tides. We love the first two films in the series, disliked the third, but had heard good things about this one. And it was a blast. Not perhaps quite as good as the first one - too few main characters and a very slow start made it a little too dependent on Johnny Depp, and as good as he is, it's a tall order for one actor to 'carry' an entire film. But the special effects were great and once all the various parties were back at sea, chasing the elusive Fountain of Youth, the action took off and it was all great fun. And watch out for some amusing cameo roles - Keith Richards as Jack Sparrow's dad, and Dame Judy Dench in a carriage.

As usual if you sit through the telephone-directory length credits you get a hidden extra and in this case it seemed to hint that more 'episodes' could be on the way. If they're as entertaining as this I hope so... but perhaps they could come up with a couple more characters to replace Elizabeth, Will, Norrington, Davy Jones, Bootstrap Bill, the Governor, and the two idiotic pirates in the meantime?

Shotgun Honey moves

Blogger got its knickers in a right old twist yesterday, logging members out of their own accounts at every opportunity and refusing to allow comments. One result is that Shotgun Honey, the nearly-new zine of crime and noir flash fiction, got fed up and moved. I'm busy updating the links to my story Gran Torino but the great news is that it's still fully available to read at its new home.

And Blogger? Well, it still seems to be buggering about but less so than it was. I live in hope...

Motherhood?

Not having children myself, the 'agony and ecstasy of being a mother' isn't a subject I know a vast amount about. So when I saw that the theme for a forthcoming issue of Mslexia was 'motherhood', my heart sank. That's another issue I won't be able to write for, I thought. But then I surprised myself. This afternoon I sat down and wrote an emotional little piece about two neighbours' very different experiences of being a mother to a 20-something son. I'm still wondering where on earth the ideas for that came from...

Ever decreasing circles

We finally got the go-ahead for both planning permission and building regulations for our extension, which will give us a second (if very tiny) bathroom and a bigger kitchen. On Friday our architect came over and we sat down round the dining table with a cuppa each to go through the full 'scope of work', ready to send tenders out to local builders.

My goodness, I had no idea it involved so much detail! We'd already planned our kitchen units, flooring, sink and taps but there's so much more. Wall tiles. Lighting. Light switches and sockets. A shower curtain or screen. The particular brand and pattern of obscured glass for the bathroom window. Even the paint colour has to be specified!

It's all very exciting, but it's also a huge amount of work. We spent the whole weekend dashing from one DIY store or supplier to another, deciding what we liked and what we could actually afford. (The two, sadly, seldom seem to meet.) And finally we have a list of just about everything, which I'm hoping to email to the architect later today. After that things should die down again for a while and I should be back to my usual schedule. I've done no work at all since Thursday. Bad Fiona.

Gran Torino

I'm delighted to say Shotgun Honey have been true to their word and posted my short story Gran Torino today.

Pop along to this new zine of crime and noir flash to see how one old lady turns the tables on the thug who almost runs her over... You may never look at mobility scooters in quite the same way again!

Typing... re-typing

I always knew that touch-typing course I did at college would come in useful one day.

I wanted to nominate a story for the Watery Grave Invitational crime writing contest, to try to get myself on their list of invitees. When I came to look at my list of published stories only one met the bill, Lemon Sour which was published in Radgepacket 4. And I realised that I didn't have a copy on my laptop, or on the flash drive that I dash around the country with and never leave home without. In fact, the only copy I had was in a volume of the book that I'd brought with me to read months ago and popped back on a shelf.

So, I rolled up my sleeves and set to work... to re-type the whole blinking story. Luckily it's only around 1800 words long so it could have been worse, but it still took me a couple of hours. Not least because I had to keep picking up the book, reading the next sentence, memorising it, putting the book down again to free my hands up to type, typing, then picking the book up again.... A long and frustrating process, but the submission went off to Watery Grave at lunchtime, well in time for the May 15th deadline. Now I just watch and wait. And thank the Lord that I learned to type at speed with all ten fingers and thumbs. If I'd still been using the old prod-and-poke method and two fingers, I'd have been at it all day!

Ultimate I.D. available

As promised the new issue of Pulp Metal Magazine came out over the weekend complete with articles, reviews, and lots of new 'odd' fiction including my story The Ultimate I.D.

Since this is an evil piece featuring a pair of missing curtains, the Post Office and a nagging wife, it certainly lives up to the 'odd' label. It's also very tongue-in-cheek, though, so I hope everyone enjoys it.

You can find the story here, but don't forget to check out the other stories and content while you're on the Pulp Metal site.

And happy, if slightly hair-raising, reading. :)

Curtains...?

Pulp Metal Magazine, a well respected publication in the world of noir and general darkness, has accepted The Ultimate I.D., an evil little tale about one man's answer to a missing pair of curtains and a nagging wife.

The story should be appearing over the weekend, but I'll pop a note on here as soon as I know for sure that it's available to read.

This is the third 'refugee' from the revenge anthology I've had accepted, which makes me a particularly happy bunny.

Hack splutter cough

This morning Dave gloss-painted the bathroom. It's going to look stunning when it's done but gloss paint takes ages to dry... and I'm allergic to the fumes. To get me out of the house and stop me wheezing we decided to head for the city centre and go for a walk.

The roads were busy (second sunny Bank Holiday Sunday in a row, plus a Birmingam City home match that had just finished) but we gritted our teeth and fought our way through - and even found a parking space. After a brief refuelling stop at the Museum & Art Gallery's so-called 'Edwardian tea rooms', we set off for the Jewellery Quarter on foot.

There weren't many shops open but it's always a fascinating area to explore with dozens of interesting old buildings, a heritage trail and a maze of half-hidden canals. The only trouble was, thanks to the dry sunny weather of the last few weeks there was masses of dust, and a strong-to-gale-force wind blew it into our faces no matter which way we turned. I'm allergic to dust too, and ended up coughing and spluttering just as much as if I'd stayed at home... but I did get a good walk (and a slice of cheesecake at the Museum) as a reward.

'Feel every word' (ouch)

Yesterday Dave treated himself to a new book from Waterstones, and when we got the bag home I couldn't help noticing their new tagline, 'Feel Every Word'. Maybe I've got a nasty mind, or maybe it's the wordsmith in me, but I'm afraid my first reaction was 'ouch', swiftly followed by 'ew'.

Just imagine if that word was 'sludge', for instance, or 'slimy' or 'disgusting puddle of ooze'. Or even worse, 'agony' or 'snapping bone', 'toothache' or 'decapitate'. Would I (or anyone else for that matter) really want to feel those sensations?

I know what Waterstones are trying to do and up to a point I applaud their attempt to involve people in the sheer richness of language and reading. I can't help wondering, though, whether this particular campaign has backfired. And I bet they paid some consultant squillions to come up with it, too.

Cracked

So there I was keeping a beady eye on The Pygmy Giant after they accepted my latest offering, Cracked. Then I got hopelessly busy, forgot to check for one day, and lo and behold the story snuck onto the site behind my back. Isn't it typical? Hence I'm a little late with this announcement, for which I can only apologise.

The good news is, Cracked is now available to read completely free at The Pygmy Giant. It tells the story of Geoffrey, a maths teacher at a modern-day school who has a spectacular fall from grace after losing patience with an out-of-control pupil. The story is one of a very, very few which presented itself fully formed in my head and I've always been rather fond of it for that reason; and I'm absolutely delighted and overcome at the positive response from the readers. Comments so far include 'wonderful writing', 'the right side of sad', and 'this story gives me pause'. I'm glowing!

Great day out

Last week Dave and I took some time off work to tackle a lot of jobs around the house that had got left unfinished for far too long. We've been drilling, sanding down, planing, boxing in pipes, filling, decorating, and deep-level cleaning, and we've achieved loads. By yesterday it had got to the stage where if either of us so much as saw a paintbrush or a screw driver we'd have killed something, so we treated ourselves to a day out to a somewhat unexpected destination - Clay Mills Victorian Pumping Station near Burton-on-Trent.

One of Dave's former colleagues helps out there on a regular basis and offered to give us a 'personal' guided tour. The pumping station is one of the biggest and most complete to survive from the Victorian era, with lots of different steam engines - which Dave and I are both suckers for. We arrived about 10.30 am and spent the best part of four happy hours clambering around, under and over engines, boilers and more engines while Dave's colleague explained how they worked and what the pumping station was for. (In the latter case, actually for pumping sewage, particularly effluent from all the breweries, away from Burton so it could be treated elsewhere.)

The sun shone, the volunteers were dressed up in Victorian workmens' clothes, small traction engines chugged about giving visitors rides, and all in all it was a fascinating and really fun day out.

Many thanks, Chris, the tour was much appreciated. :)

And another...

Good Friday lived up to its name today as I received my second acceptance in two days. This time it's the turn of The Pygmy Giant, an online British magazine of gritty and/or humorous flash fiction, to take a story. Cracked is a poignant tale of a school teacher's fall from grace after he loses patience and clips an out-of-control pupil round the ear. The story is described as 'lovely and sad' by the magazine's editor, and should be published on the site soon.

I'll post details here as soon as I know when it's likely to appear.

Another acceptance

Good news on the story front. New-zine-on-the-block Shotgun Honey, who specialise in crime and noir flash fiction, have accepted Gran Torino, a darkly comic short story about an old lady who takes matters into her own hands after a thug almost knocks her down.

This is one of the stories I'd earmarked for the revenge anthology so I'm particularly pleased to find a home for it. It should be appearing at the zine on 11th May but I'll post a reminder nearer the time to save you all having to remember.

Too much sitting

A friend of mine pointed me in the direction of this rather alarming article about health the other day. I already knew that inactivity was bad for your health, but this goes further in sugggesting that it doens't matter how healthy the rest of your lifestyle is (diet, exercise etc) - if you spend the majority of each day sitting down, you're over 50% more likely to die of a heart attack.

The researchers themselves don't seem to fully understand why this is, or whether it applies to just the act of sitting or to general inactivity, but I was shocked enough to want to do something about it.

The trouble is, as a writer it's hard to NOT sit down all day. The romance writer Nora Roberts has been quoted (on iGoogle's writing quotes gadget) as saying 'ass in chair' and it's well known as a sedentary job. I can't type standing up, and the only work surface that would be high enough to give me the support I need would be the ironing board, and I can hardly work all day on that. But I worked out that there are aspects of the job I don't need to sit down for. Making and taking phone calls. Reading through print copies of stories. Editing print copies of stories. Even thinking can be done standing up.

It's a start, and better still, it burns an extra 60 calories an hour which ought to benefit my waistline as well as my heart!

RIP Velvet Mafia

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New look

I'm experimenting with a new, darker look for my blog and website. This is because my writing is heading in a new direction too. It's been a long time since I last wrote any romance, erotic or otherwise, and most of the stories in that genre are coming up on the end of their contract (or in some cases, have already dropped off the edge!) And most of my new fiction is gritty urban contemporary, or noir, or dark paranormal, or a sort of gallows humour. My most recent acceptance, The Other Side of Silence, is in the dark paranormal category and I'm hoping to have others to add to that in the coming weeks and months.

This is an exciting start to what I hope will be a new journey for me, and I hope you enjoy the ride too!

Quiet...

I've been a little quiet the last few days, because I was unfortunate enough to witness someone being cruel to an animal. The poor creature died, which upset me rather, and I've been finding it hard to concentrate on work. There are some sad people in the world, aren't there? I don't want to say too much for fear of it getting back to me, but I reported what I could and will have to hope it helps stop the same thing happening again.

On a brighter note, I've now found places to submit almost half the stories from my anthology and am chewing holes in my desk waiting for their replies.

Back safely

I forgot to mention yesterday that Dave got back from Qatar late Thursday evening. He was a little worn around the edges after travelling for fourteen hours straight, but otherwise fine and had enjoyed the trip more than he expected. Admittedly he spent most of his time at work and couldn't get out much to see the sights, but a colleague's parents took him to the soukh and a restaurant one evening and he got a flavour of the country from the hour's drive between the hotel and the site.

He said it was a real eye-opener. Too often on UK television they still portray Arab countries as either backward or corrupt, but he said Qatar was clean, prosperous and forward-thinking and the people amongst the friendliest he's ever met. His hotel was amazing (he had a suite overlooking the private beach, which helped) and the shops were full of attractive goodies at surprisingly affordable prices. And petrol was, um, 6p a litre.

He arrived back clutching gifts including a pretty pashmina and a small metal camel trinket - the latter in spite of my strict instructions not to bring any camels home!

Alibi's crime writing contest - second thoughts

A few weeks ago I posted details of this contest, run by Alibi TV in association with HarperCollins to find the 'crime writers of the future'. It's completely free to enter, the prizes are seriously good, and there's always the chance that you might leapfrog the slush pile at HarperCollins if you make the shortlist of eight.

I was all set to write something myself and had even come up with a title and a basic plot. Then I decided to check the guidelines for formatting hints, and found the following statement buried deep within the small print of the terms and conditions of entry:

"Where you submit your entry to this site (including without limitation any text, graphics, photos, video or audio) by such submission you grant UKTV and Harper Collins Publishers Limited each a perpetual, irrevocable, royalty-free, non-exclusive, worldwide, sub-licensable right and license to use, reproduce and publish, distribute and make available to the public your entry in any media, now known or later developed, for the full term of any rights that may exist in such content.

If you do not wish to grant such rights to UKTV and HarperCollins, you should not submit your content to the site."

In other words, it's yet another contest where simply by submitting your story, you give away all rights, forever, without any form of payment. Those lucky eight will get prizes and recognition, but hundreds of others will send work in, not be shortlisted, and effectively hand over their story for free.

Why do some contest organisers do this? And why do they hide that fact in reams of small print that many people won't have the patience to wade through? I don't know, but suddenly I've gone off the idea of entering this contest.