Sunday, December 9, 2018

Reading Again.

I'm not sure how this happened. I am busy still, and seem to have less time than before, but I'm reading again.

Not that I ever stopped reading. Reading is hardwired within me, and I always have a book on the go. But recently I seem to be back into the same quantity of books I read a few years ago.

Of course I long for my teenage years, or into my early twenties, when I devoured books, reading in bed until all hours and coping daily on a few hours sleep. But those days are long gone, and I simply cannot manage like that anymore. As you get older, you need your sleep.

I've been reading a real mix of books - new authors (to me, anyway) and revisiting books from a few years ago - even a couple from my teenage years. And yes, for the most part, they are still as wonderful as I recall.

I re-read all my Thursday Next books (Jasper Fforde) and then forged into the latest few which I had never gotten around to picking up. I started back into the Saga of the Exiles quadrilogy (Julian May,) which I first read back in the early 80s. I read a wonderful collection of short stories from Alice Munro. Another from Martin Amis. And yet another from Jeanette Winterson. And even more. Brilliant stuff. There's also been a few anthologies, both old and new, from mainstream (SF) publishers and small press. I've done my bit to get to know the local UK small press market.

And my 'to be read' stack is looking healthy. Ann Leckie, more Andy Remic, Thoraiya Dyer, Cat Sparks and others.

In the middle of all this, and around it and through it, I've done my fair share of academic and non-fiction as well.

If only there were more reading hours per day.

I love reading. I always have and I believe I always will. This is one of the main reasons I became an English teacher - to share this love and try to enthuse others.

And if you haven't read a book in a while, stop reading this and go and grab one off the shelf. Now.

Saturday, November 17, 2018

Racing Around the Sun Again.

Another year is drawing to a close, and there is so much left undone. Not that I am one for resolutions, but like most people I have goals - either specific and planned, or vague and loose. I did complete some of my plans, but along the way other plans intruded in my life. And as I undertook those, other activites were pushed onto the backburner by necessity.

Yeah, that novel I never started at the beginning of the year never happened later either. And I doubt I'll have it done (or even commenced) by New Year.

I'm OK with that, because I have achieved other things this year I never thought I would. Big things. For reasons of my own, I'm not sharing these at the moment. One day, when the time is right, I will.

We've almost completed that arbitrarily designated end to yet another journey around the sun. Another year, another orbit, another winter.

It's getting darker and colder. I'm heading out to work and returning home with my headlights on. Soon it will be dark as I arrive and leave the office. For some people this is depressing. For me, and maybe because it's a bit of a novelty still, I enjoy it. It means Christmas is coming, and Christmas makes a lot more sense here than it ever did in Australia. The lights will be up in the streets, and we'll have warm cosy evenings snuggled around roaring fires.

Think about it. Christmas as a northern hemisphere celebration is out of place in Australia. Having experienced a few up here, it's obviously a transplant. I always enjoyed it, but it never felt right.

As out of place as a sausage sizzle at an English hardware store. Yeah, Bunnings tried that here and it failed. As did Bunnings as a store. They've pulled out of the UK, having bought Homebase for large sums of money and selling for next to nothing.

Guess I'll just have to go and buy a Bratwurst in a bread roll on the high street, all wrapped up in my scarf and jacket.

Thursday, October 25, 2018

My First FantasyCon

I've been to conventions before. I used to attend Continuum every year in Melbourne, visited Conflux once and even managed to get to WorldCon a couple of times. Since moving to the UK, I've been to a couple of Edge-Lits and a few Sledge-Lits, the winter counterpart. But I haven't really immersed myself in the British SF scene.

Scene. I choose that in place of a better word instead of 'Community'. Ah yes, the 'Myth of Community'. I am planning to write about that soon, but I'll leave it as it is and just move on for now.

Last weekend I visited Chester for FantasyCon. I was hoping to catch up with old friends, make some new ones and even meet a hero or two. And I succeeded on all counts. It was wonderful to see Philip and James again, to spend time with Penny, Simon, Adele and Tom (as well as a bunch of others I haven't mentioned), and to chat, albeit briefly, with Ian Watson. Ian is a fabulous writer, someone I started reading back in the late 70s and never dreamed of meeting. I managed to get a book or two signed, and even copped some written abuse from him in one of them - which was pretty special.

I spent time chatting with Dr Abbey from Japan, even though my Japanese was rusty and he was polite about my abilities, and met Ian Whates and Adrain Tchaikovsky, who were both delightful and fascinating.

Restaurants, bars, sitting outside with friends, walks, and even listening to the karaoke (bleah) made for a memorable weekend.

Seriously though, how do we manage to spend an entire weekend based in a hotel and still not catch up with people we know? I missed a few people I had planned to see. And they were there! I've seen the photographic proof.

If you haven't been to FantasyCon and you live in the UK, it's highly recommended. I plan to be there next year again.

Wednesday, October 10, 2018

Vale: Tim Chandler

One of my great musical loves, probably my second favourite band after the Beatles, is Daniel Amos. I've been a huge fan since 1979 when a friend dropped the needle on their Horrendous Disc album and told me I had to listen. I remember that moment vividly, and I was instantly hooked.

They're a band who went through a number of changes, both in line-up and style, yet I've loved every incarnation - even the country band they were before Horrendous Disc. Alarma, Doppleganger, Vox Humana and Fearful Symmetry (known collectively as the Alarma Chronicles) were released throughout the 80s, with each album changing style and instrumentation which also reflected the lyrical content.

Tim Chandler joined the band in 1981, in time to tour and record the Doppelganger album. I immediately loved his bass playing. He had his own style, his own musicality and brilliantly creative bass lines. His sound was distinctive and recognisable. Tim played on albums by a bunch of artists, and his playing was always second to none. Standouts include his work on John Wayne by Terry Scott Taylor, and Daniel Amos's own Darn Floor Big Bite.

Apparently he was a really lovely guy. Funny too. He was a member of the Swirling Eddies, a pseudonymous Daniel Amos side project. Berger Roy Al, as he was dubbed, had his own personality, who would suddenly appear in Daniel Amos forums ranting and verbally attacking Tim Chandler. Mad, mad, hilarious stuff.

I only managed to see Tim once. He played bass in Phil Keaggy's band when I saw them at a small venue in Melbourne during the 80s. I still regret not waiting to chat to him after the show.

Tim passed away a few days ago. I saw it on social media just after his friends all changed their profile pictures. Apparently he was ill, but I didn't know that. In fact there is very little I actually know about the man, yet his passing has saddened me.

RIP Tim, I wish you safe travels.

Sunday, September 23, 2018

It's Those Little Differences.

Sometime the smallest differences are the ones that stand out the most. I'm talking here about life in the UK as opposed to Australia, and while I agree the weather, accents, building styles and so on are the most obvious differences, they're not the ones that make me ponder.

Those are differences you expect when you visit another country. The ones that stick in my mind are those you don't or can't anticipate. And so, to celebrate diversity and differences between these nations, here are a few things I find a little odd here.

Not frustrating, not weird, just interestingly different to what I'm used to.

Can I help?
This is the one shop assistants ask when you're waiting in line. Not Can I help you?, but Can I help? And this truncated form still sounds odd to me even after a couple of years.

Polite Notice
While a sign in an Australian car park might read "Warning: Private Car Park. Violators will be towed", in the UK the word Warning is likely to be replaced with Polite Notice. I'm still trying to figure out which part is polite, and why it needs to be declared. It's almost like those veiled threats in noir movies, a friendly warning.

Apparently they are optional in the UK, and even the police and road safety people have told me you only have to use them in situations where you think it's necessary. So if you're in a turn lane, or there's no-one else around, don't bother. Of course that means sometimes people make turns (or don't) when you least expect it.

Street Names
There are many, many, many fine examples. Some are named simply because of their destination. In Heighington, the road that leads to Branston is known as the Branston Road. Once you're arrived at Branston, however, it's known as the Heighington Road. I've wondered if there's an official point at which it changes, or does it always depend on your destination? Other street/alley/lane names are simply weird or very, very naughty. Local favourites include The Smooting, and The Glory Hole.

Australian Preconceptions
While we all have preconceptions of the 'other', The UK have built their ideas on TV tourism ads, Neighbours, and Steve Irwin. No, we are not inundated with deadly spiders and snakes which we daily battle, we don't spend every free minute at the beach or having barbeques with shrimps, very few of us every drink Fosters voluntarily, and we don't all have glorious weather 365 days are year. Oh, and rugby. Unless you're from New South Wales or Queensland, very few of us even care. Many are surprised I don't know a thing about rugby, or that I saw my first game on TV when I was in my late 30s. And we're not even talking League here, they mean Union - which has even less of a following in Australia.

Just a few of the things I've noticed. There are more, but we have to remember that there are things about Australia the Brits find odd.

These tiny cultural differences are wonderful. They only enrich our lives.

Wednesday, September 5, 2018

I May Not Know Art.....

One of the reasons I started reading science fiction was the cover art.

I loved it, back in the seventies, when the spaceships were unusual shapes and bright colours against dramatic spacescapes. Chris Foss, who I was fortunate enough to meet a couple of years ago, soon became a favourite cover artist. I don't recall if I was aware of who he was, but I could easily recognise his work. Then there were other, more metaphoric designs for SF books. Some I loved, others I merely appreciated. Photographed covers have aged the most. Even back then photos of model aliens or men in silver suits look dated. I seem to recall a photographed Stainless Steel Rat cover that was terrible.

So for me it was illustration, preferable paintings. Unfortunately for me, they seem to have died off as the primary source of cover art.
Recently I had a conversation with a writer who told me about the economics involved. It's cheaper to buy and crop stock artwork than commission new. It's even cheaper to buy digital manipulated pictures than buy paintings. And with the unrelenting tsunami of self published mediocrity, the standard of cover art has fallen even further.

I know graphic artists who are in competition with anyone who has access to Photoshop, regardless of the quality. New writers self publishing a story manipulate a couple of pictures, throw on text and away they go.

Here's a clue. Many of these look cheap and nasty and entice no one.

I really miss those painted covers. They had a quality missing in the digital age. I understand a painting is not going to be affordable, but at the very least hire someone trained in design to direct the art on the cover.

Me? Well, you'll find me over here gazing at my Asimov's and Harrison's and dreaming of yellow and black checked starships against enormous nebulae.

Thursday, August 16, 2018

Not All Are Equal.

Despite what Goodreads and Amazon reviews may suggest, not all publishers are equal.

I recently read an anthology from a small press, one that was given to me a couple of years ago. I'd heard good thing about this publisher, and I have no reason to believe they are anything but honest and supportive of their writers. This particular book had excellent reviews and ratings on the above mentioned websites, and I was looking forward to delving into this particular collection.

4.5 stars?  Give me a break. Family and friends, and possibly authors themselves, bumping up ratings.

As you may have surmised, I found it was well below average.
There were misspellings, sentences that were incoherent, absent punctuation, swapped homonyms, and generally sloppy layout. Editing? I wonder if that even occurred. Oh, and most of the stories were just poorly written.

I'm not even sure if this press is still operating. I haven't heard them mentioned in a while and I haven't googled. If they are, I wish them well and hope they have improved.

Your product is your greatest advertising. People won't buy a second if they are underwhelmed by the first. And, of course, this is the same for writers. Send out your best work, polish it and proofread to make sure it's close to perfect. Choose where you allow your work to be seen.

I guess this is one of the reasons I have decided to not go down the self-publishing road. The whitenoise of mediocrity is deafening. I have yet to personally stumble across any self-published work that I would consider recommending. I am sure they exist, and I know of the famous exceptions, but they are the tiniest of minorities. I don't even bother anymore.

And please, don't self publish then tell me you did so because your work has been rejected everywhere. It's hardly a glowing endorsement. Yes, editors and publishers make mistakes or reject stories that don't suit them, but maybe, just maybe, there's a reason no one wanted to buy your work.

Sunday, July 22, 2018

Another Con Down, Another Con to Go.

I went to Edge Lit 7 last weekend, a fabulous mini-convention held in Derby. It's a one day affair, with some great guests, panels and workshops. I've been before, as well to it's November counterpart, Sledge-Lit, and always had a good time.

I travelled up with Andy Remic, which was a joy as always. We talked life, books and writing. Lots of writing. We're friends, but I also enjoy reading his work. He's a great writer with a long, established career, and it's a privilege to spend time in his company and be offered writing advice from him. (Which usually commences with 'Cameron, have you started writing a novel yet?)

A few of the friends I traditionally catch up with weren't able to attend. Work, life, and in one case an offer to watch the World Cup. To be fair, it was an offer to travel to Europe to watch it on TV and I believe beer was involved. But there were others I was able to spend time with. I saw Selina briefly before she had to leave, was able to dine with Jay, which was great as always, and met Neil, Simon and Lucy, with whom Andy and I shared a drink or two.

I met some writerly types for the first time as well. Gav Thorpe, Anna Smith-Spark, Anna Stephens, RJ Barker, Paul Tremblay Stan Nicholls, Steve McHugh, and Adele Wearing, as well as a few others.

The panels I saw were great, I went to Andy Remic's workshop which could have been longer, and enjoyed the Gemmell Awards.

David Gemmell was a really well known fantasy author in the UK, but I'd never heard of him. Some told me his fame was limited in the US and Australia. I'm looking forward to investigating his writing.

Congratulations to Alex Davis and the team for the organisation. The weekend away inspired me. I came home and signed up for Fantasy Con in October. If you're going, it would be great to see you there. If you're not, why not?

Tuesday, July 3, 2018

The Lady Who Sings to the Dead.

I'm so very pleased to be back in the pages of Outposts of Beyond.  A great little magazine, containing novellas, short stories, flash fiction, poetry, articles and reviews. I feel privileged. This is the fifth time I've been published by Alban Lake, and I look forward to having a new shiny copy of this issue in my hands.

My story, The Lady Who Sings to the Dead, is set in Australia long after an apocalypse but in a non-technological time. This story occurs in the same world and many years following the events depicted in two of my other stories, The Last of the Butterflies and Fireflies.

I love this world I've created. I love visiting it and I love writing in it. I really like some of the people who populate it.

I imagine there are many more stories to be told. For the time being, however, you can read this one.


Table of contents:

The Lady Who Sings to the Dead by Steve Cameron
The One That Is All by Mike Adamson
The Voice of the Moroth by John Buentello & Lawrence Buentello
The Monster at the End of the World by Lee Clark Zumpe
The Steppenwolf Revisitation by Alan Ira Gordon
The Assassin Program by Christina Sng
The Quicksilver Wall by t.santitoro
The Unfolding by Melanie Smith
The Stories We Tell by Holly Day
Terran Vacations 2070 AD by Marge Simon
Water 2050 AD by Marge Simon
Meteor Shower BC by Marge Simon
The Ship by Marge Simon
The New Canadians  by Aaron W. Haney M.D.
Blade Runner 2049 Review by Kendall Evans
Integral Parts by Robert E. Porter

Thursday, June 21, 2018

Take Me Away....

Two weeks in the south of France does wonders for the soul, mind and body.

We drove there and back. It's kind of weird driving onto a train, sitting in the car for the 35 minute tunnel crossing, and then driving onto the wrong side of the road in France. Two weeks later we did the same trip in return, arriving home having added more than 3000 miles to the odometer.

Our dogs, faithful travelling companions both, were so well behaved. They sat on the back seat and loved every moment of the trip. I have to say though that a number of French dogs were enamoured of one in particular. Good thing she never gave out our phone number or address.

Driving in France is a pleasure. The roads are excellent, traffic flows well, and the scenery, drastically changing the further south you travel, is stunning. Then there's the food and wine. Fabulous. Just fabulous. And no, I did not add to my waistline. I was moderate in all my eating and drinking. I know, you're only concerned about my health.

Lots of scenery, lots of art and lots of history. The highlight for me was the Grottes préhistoriques de Cougnac, a series of caves with beautiful stalactites and stalagmites. But then, tucked away in the back, is a series of cave paintings. At least 25,000 years old. Primitive, artistic, and moving beyond belief. I could only stare, trying to take it all in. Photos not allowed, so I grabbed a few postcards. If you haven't seen them, then you've seen enough pictures in books, films and websites to get the idea. But those can in no way compare to the real thing.

(I thoroughly recommend the Werner Herzog documentary, Cave of Forgotten Dreams about the Chauvet caves, which have far more artwork than the Cougnac caves. For their preservation, however, they have been closed to the public for many years.

But at night, sitting outside under French skies and sipping red wine, I gazed at the stars and my mind turned to a prehistoric France. The people then, most likely my ancestors, saw the same stars and the same hills. How much has the landscape changed in 25,000 years? How much did they understand about the sky? There were certainly some different animals, the lifestyle was very different and the landscape too. But a few people left art that is still there now.

Yes, the holiday was also a time of self-reflection, and wonder and awe. And for me that makes for a pretty good break.

Wednesday, May 23, 2018

Gone, But Not Forgotten By All.

I worry sometimes that we're losing our past, our heritage.

Carson, Ross Ryan, Buffalo, Sid Rumpo, Co. Caine?

None of these will mean anything to most of you, and even if you are Australian the chances are you won't know them, or at least not have heard of them in a very long time.

These were all musicians in the early 70s. Well known at the time, and some of the members went on to other things. But now largely forgotten.

My last foray into an Australian music store had none of these available. Most of them have never even had their work released on CD. Even if it was, it was generally on a specialist re-issue label for a very short time.

I'm lucky to have a few friends who remember these acts. I also have a group of friends who have ripped their vinyl to CD and share them, as long as the music is well out of print and not available in any format. Yes, their first aim is to protect and support the artist. And that is exactly how it should be.

My dad played a lot of older music when I was young, so I have a love of crooners, big band, brass band, and even some country music. But having taught for a number of years it seems as though the past is largely forgotten by many young people. They were never exposed to it. Occasionally I has a student who would approach me when no one else was around to tell me they'd discovered some amazing "new" artist, such as Hendrix or Nirvana, and wondered if I'd ever heard of them. But these are big names, and I very rarely hear anyone mention any of the artists above, although I Am Pegasus gets the very occasional spin on Australian radio.

We need to make sure we don't lose our Arts heritage, whether it's a novel by George Turner, a Smiley film, or an old album by Blackfeather.

Explore the past. There are some real diamonds in there.

Monday, May 7, 2018

There's An Optimistic Vibe In The Air.

Spring has arrived, later than last year for sure, but it's finally here and making up for lost time. The skies are blue, the flowers are blooming and the grass needs cutting once again.

OK, that last one I'm not so keen on, but at least the grass isn't as tough as the grass back in Australia. Nor does it need cutting on a fortnightly basis.

The change in weather seemed quite sudden, and because of that the longer days also seemed to appear without much warning. One morning I realised I was waking at 5am (or earlier) simply because it was light outside.

For a number of reasons, and I'm sure the arrival of Spring is part of it, I feel really quite optimistic at the moment. I got to work with a spring in my step, a song in my heart, and a bunch of other cliches. Someone even mentioned they'd noticed I was whistling at work last week. I hadn't noticed it myself, although I know I whistle. Fortunately they told me they quite liked hearing it. I have, of course, become quite self-conscious in the office now and have stopped myself a couple of times as I was about to launch into song.

The writing continues, slowly, but this beast is being lashed into shape. I like where it's heading. I hope you will too.

Wednesday, April 25, 2018

Ideas A Plenty.

I've had a good run of ideas for short stories recently. Some are merely snippets, some are almost fully fleshed. All have gone into my writing journal.

I have no idea how many will end up getting used. I never do. And some that do get used end up being more of an inspiration, or a launching point, rather than the original idea. A piece of conversation I overheard on a plane (and noted because it was so ludicrous) will get used, but even the original conversants would never recognise it. It was idea of the silliness of the conversation I loved, even though the participants were earnest and serious.

One of the ideas has already developed into a few paragraphs, and I'm enjoying writing this one. It's a comedy piece based on an idea I originally had about a year ago, but mashed it with another idea I had a week ago. And they fit so well together it is as if it was meant to be.

Writing comedy is difficult. Humour is so subjective that you can never be really sure how well it is working until a range of readers tell you. I've been fortunate in my attempts, and my biggest sale was a humorous piece which garnered good reviews, comments and even a mention in a recommended reading list.

But the main thing is the ideas have been flowing, and I'm working at whipping them into shape and pushing them out into the wild world.

Wish me luck.

Saturday, April 7, 2018

Andy Remic: Writer, Film-maker, Mentor and Friend.

I had the privilege and honour of spending an afternoon with Andy Remic. Not only is he a friend, but he's a fabulous author with more publishing credentials than I could ever achieve.

Yeah, we hang out from time to time. We meet up for drinks, to watch TV shows, to listen to music and just chat.

Among our many chats, we've talked about writing before - quite a few times. He's also done me the great honour of reading some of my work and offering fantastic advice and feedback. We've even talked about the industry. We've talked about the work involved, the contracts, the business, the hopes and dreams, the problems encountered. And all the while he's been patient, encouraging and supporting.

This time, however, was different, and I can't quite put my finger on how. Sure, we talked about the same range of writing topics, but there was a lot more about the mechanics of writing, of getting published. It seemed to me as though the discussion was more focused and structured. More than that, though, I think I was more active in my listening (not that I don't ever listen to advice from someone who know what they're doing) and I think I asked better questions.

I left feeling energised and inspired. Thanks Andy, for your time, your advice, your encouragement and your friendship.

And if you're not familiar with Andy's work, check out this review in last week's Grimdark

Remic is so good at creating a horrific vision of the front—of hopelessness and horror, of surrender and grit, of the randomness of death when a million people are trying to kill you in a million different ways.
A fun book, with a big mid-novella twist and a constant sense of foreboding, Return of Souls gives fans of this series more of what we loved about A Song for No Mans Land, and then turns up the fantasy dial.

 Surely that's enough to get you started.

Sunday, March 25, 2018

The Ever Sneaky and Mysterious Thoraiya Dyer.

Thoraiya Dyer is a name many of you will recognise. She's a great writer and also a friend - although we've only really met twice in person, chatted once on the phone, and never spent anywhere near enough time together. We don't even e-communicate very often. Her online presence is restricted to a website, a few tweets and, like many mysterious and elusive beings, a couple of photos. (which may or not be her)

So it's no surprise to accidentally discover she has a new release on Tor books.'Part two of A Titan's Forest series, Echoes of Understorey continues on from last year's Crossroads of Canopy. Already it has received excellent reviews - including a star review in Publisher's Weekly.
"There’s far more to this story than can easily be summarized, and readers will savor its intricacy, depicted in evocative prose (“the monsoon greeted her with a wet slap across the face”). Dyer skillfully weaves elements of mythology, family loyalty, and divine destiny into a distinctive, enchanting, and complete world."
But if that's not enough to convince you, consider the following as well:

"I am majorly impressed with Thoraiya Dyer's Crossroads of Canopy. A unique, gorgeous, and dangerous world, a stubborn female hero, and a writer to watch!"--Tamora Pierce

"For her striking first novel Crossroads of Canopy, Thoraiya Dyer reworks the stuff of epic fantasy in ways that seem organic, rooted in the natural world but just as true to human experience." --Locus magazine

"Recommended for readers who appreciate nuanced world building, as both Canopy and Understorey arestrange, fleshed-out lands thrown into turmoil."--Booklist

I've read quite a bit of Thoraiya's work, and I can highly recommend both her short and longer fiction to you. Although I have yet to read Echoes of Understorey, I look forward to doing so. And I must admit to being jealous of those of you who will encounter Thoraiya's writing for the first time.

Congratulations, Thoraiya.

Saturday, March 10, 2018

Another Impending Publication.

Did I mention I have another story being published in a few months?

I certainly hinted, back here, but I don't believe I have given any further details.

The Lady who Sings to the Dead is set in Australia long after an apocalypse but in a non-technological time. This story occurs in the same world and many years following the events depicted in two of my other stories, The Last of the Butterflies and Fireflies.

I can trace its origins to a tour I undertook many years ago in Port Arthur - a convict colony in Tasmania with a painful and violent history in the most glorious surroundings. Those familiar with Port Arthur will no doubt easily find the connection.

This will mark my fifth publication in Outposts of Beyond, the first since 2014. And it's good to be back. Alban Lake has always been a supportive, encouraging and fair publisher. I look forward to receiving my contributor copy. Keep an eye out for the release date in July.

As for other stories set in this same world? I have a few ideas. Watch this space.

Thursday, March 1, 2018

Home Again, Home Again?

I'm confused.

I'm currently in Australia, at the tail end of a two week visit, and in a day or so I'll be heading home. Or am I currently at home, and heading off again?

Since July 2016 I've been working and residing in the UK with Lindsey. That's where you'll find our dogs, our TV, my Beatles' albums and our car. But I grew up in Australia, so for so many years that was my home. Before that, however, I was born in Scotland and emigrated to Australia when I was a tot.

So which is my home?

Both, in different ways. But for now I'm heading home, with a bag full of Tim-Tams to share with Lindsey. If you drop in for a coffee after I get back, you might just score one.

Monday, February 12, 2018

The Weather With You.

The past week has been cool, although milder than it has been. Temperatures have ranged from 6 to 10c and mostly dry. Yes, there have been a few showers, but nothing terrible.

In a couple of days it will be high 20s into the 30s. Not in Lincoln, of course, but in Melbourne, Australia.

Apart from articles about my Australian Football team, and the odd bits of news I pick up through Facebook, I have no idea of what's happening back home. Entertainment, politics, news or sport - none of it. I stopped reading the Australian news and weather a few months after arriving over here. There just didn't seem much point, and I felt it was more important to be aware of what was happening here in the UK.

But I've been tracking the Melbourne weather for the past few weeks as I'm heading home in a few days, time to visit family and friends. It appears I'll be arriving into a 33c day. Guess I won't be needing my winter jacket and scarf.

I was planning to get up to a football match, although I think that's now fallen through. I have made some plans to hang out with my best friend, to have dinner with others, to visit my school, and to catch up with family.

I've also made arrangements to visit Deakin University, where I studied all those years, and to chat with some staff there regarding the differences between the Australian and UK tertiary systems. Aaah, Professional Development - grab it where you can.

When I booked my ticket I wasn't too fussed. Yes, I was looking forward to going, but as the departure date approaches my excitement continue to grows. I really can't wait to see my family and friends.

And Tim Tams. There will be Tim Tams.

Thursday, February 1, 2018

With Infinite Complacency: Some Reviews.

Goodreads and Amazon have received excellent reviews for the Beautiful Lies, Painful Truths anthology of which I am a part. And I'm excited by the number of these that mention my name and story in particular.

Unlike the review of Sherlock Holmes: The Australian Casebook in The Australian, Steve Connor doesn't make an appearance. These all get my name correct.

For those who missed the earlier announcementLeft Hand Publishers describe this release as a collection of short stories from writers around the world, spanning different genres, to bring you a compendium of tales to provoke thought, entertain you, and even mystify your imagination.

My story, With Infinite Complacency,  is about Australian astronaut Amanda Jefferies, who finally makes it onto the International Space Station only to watch in horror as the apocalypse unfolds on the Earth below.

The publisher describes my story as a "sci-fi saga about the end of the world, cosmic lies, and bananas."

Some Goodreads and Amazon review quotes:

"Steve writes with authenticity about his characters and their true-to-life scientific environment."

"...there are some incredible pieces of short fiction in this anthology. Among my favorites 
     With Infinite Complacency by Steve Cameron ..."

"... With Infinite Complacency by Steve Cameron is a science fiction tale. ... I love the concept in this story and the twist at the end. I also loved the idea how would you feel if you were  alone in the universe?" 

"I enjoyed them all, but those that stick with me are Red Carnation, With Infinite Complacency, Death and the Horse, The Fall, and The Half-Dead Man." 

Thank you for the reviews, and thank you for reading our stories. 

Friday, January 26, 2018

James Worrad is a Very Naughty Writer.

I first met James Worrad at Loncon in 2014. I knew someone, who introduced me to two other people, who then introduced me to three other people, of which James was one. Really, this was exactly how it happened.

We stayed in touch online, and then when I moved to the UK, we continued to stay in touch online. Although James lives about an hour from me, we rarely manage to be in the same room together. From time to time we catch up, and can I just point out that he continues to be as bad an influence as he ever was.

He is corrupting, naughty, and sometimes very funny. Oh, and he is a writer.

His first novel is out. Or about to be out. Or something like that. The Scalpel is the first in him Feral Space series, and draws on the weird story of the Gibbon Sisters. Now this is a case I am actually familiar with, and I love the idea James has put it to good use.
"Eerie as heck but oddly moving. The two girls couldn’t function apart but knew they were consuming each other’s identities as time progressed. They announced one of them would die and, hey presto, one of them did that very day, just collapsed in her sister’s arms. Feral Space doesn’t go that way, but I wanted to take the twins’ predicament to an extreme: two sisters sharing a single body and presenting themselves as one to the rest of the world. The idea of showing that in a novel set my keyboard alight."
Keep an eye out for James, and if you see him around take pity on him and throw a few pounds in his direction.  Seriously, buy this book.

Wednesday, January 10, 2018

New Years And New Plans.

At the beginning of every year people make plans and resolutions.

Not me.

If I want to make a change, then I try to do it. No need to align with a date of imaginary importance. I think the last resolution I made (and didn't keep) was back in the 20th Century. I just don't really see the point. I suppose a large part of that is my failure to keep my resolutions.

I do, however, use New Year as a time of reflection and planning for the future. Nothing formal, simply a few thoughts about what I have done and what I hope to achieve. Writing usually pops into my brain, as does playing my guitar more often with the intent to improve. And there's sometimes something about exercise and planning earlier for work.

You might be asking right now what the difference is between these and resolutions. Simple. This is merely planning, and I don't make it a promise.

As the Australian academic year rolls around, this was the time when we had our summer break. This was when I had some free time to get on with things and I needed to start preparing for the commencement of the school year.

Of course that doesn't apply here in the UK. The extended break is in July and August. So this year I took the opportunity to eat well and go for long walks with Lindsey and the dogs.

Hope you all had a good Christmas and New Year.