Monday, 2 August 2021

Not (a) suspect, but hunt it down anyway...

 


It's got a little bit of me in it...

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2084 - The Meschera Bandwidth

2084. The world remains at war.

In the Eurasian desert, twenty-year old Adnan emerges from a coma with memories of a strictly ordered city of steel and glass, and a woman he loved.

The city is the Dome, and the woman... is Adnan's secret to keep.

Adnan learns what the Dome is, and what his role really was within it. He learns why everybody fears the Sickness more than the troopers. And he learns why he is the only one who can stop the war.

Persuaded to re-enter the Dome to implant a virus that will bring the war machine to its knees, the resistance think that Adnan is returning to free the many - but really he wants to free the one.

24 0s & a 2

Twenty-four slipstream stories.  Frequently absurd, often minimifidian, occasionally heroic.



Thursday, 22 July 2021

Science fiction? No, fictional science...

No names, no pack drill, but the family recently invested in some food intolerance testing, despite being generally sceptical of such things and, in fact, having only a minority of us who suffer from symptoms which may, or may not, be related to what we eat.

As to the outcome of those tests, well, perhaps the email I wrote them best summarises:

I recently purchased a pack of four tests - two premium and two junior tests - which we took last month.

We chose **** because my wife has previously found the results chimed with her experience of foods which did and did not cause issues.  However, I am writing to express my family's disappointment at the results of these tests. My son displayed a 100 score for reactivity with cow's milk which he has drunk all his life with no ill-effects. After the results he tried a week where he had no cow's milk products at all - and noticed no change in his energy, skin, digestive health, or any other issues.

My wife scored 73 for reactivity with white fish mix - this has left her perplexed as she has eaten white fish, including cod and haddock, all her life with no ill-effects. My daughter - who we expected to show the most pronounced results given, of all of us, she displays the most symptoms that could be food-related - had only borderline reactivity to milk. I tentatively tested my apparent borderline intolerance to hemp, and now add hemp seeds to my morning muesli.

What had motivated our purchase was a desire to find if specific foods were causing, in particular, my daughter's eczema and my own occasional migraines. The results of my wife's previous test in 2007 were almost life-transforming.  The same cannot be said for these. It has left us confused and disappointed.  We cannot see that the foods identified are causing any issues. Certainly, cutting down on cow's milk dairy for my daughter (she showed borderline reactivity to cow's milk) has not made any difference to her eczema, and my son, who is allegedly as intolerant as it is possible to be to cow's milk, found no change by trying a week without it.

Given the lack of face validity of these tests we wonder if it would be possible to run them again to verify the results produced first time round?  If not, could we be refunded the cost?

Well, soon after pinging off my email, I found myself in conversation with a customer representative called Rhys.  All credit to him, he'd swallowed the company philosophy hook, line and sinker and there was no way this zealous adherent would be swayed. I didn't keep a note of the meeting - indeed, I wasn't expecting to be on the phone for almost 25 minutes - but highlights included:

  • Food intolerances need not result in symptoms.  Just because the test shows that you are intolerant to a particular foodstuff, that intolerance may be displayed asymptomatically.  But you're still intolerant.
  • Or it may be the case that you show symptoms, but you don't identify them as such.  Rhys suggested that my son's high scores may actually be displayed as, say, brain-fog or inability to get up in the morning.  (I pointed out he was a straight-A student, probably Russell Group-bound, who gets up at 6.30am every morning for a part-time job.  He wasn't fazed.  Chap.)
  • Or, alternatively, you may have symptoms related to foods which aren't captured by these particular tests (I didn't want to bring up me and eggs and, honestly, you don't want to know, but my results were silent on those ovoid joys).
  • And there was no way Rhys would let us repeat the tests gratis, because their analysis proved their reliability and on this we just had to trust them.

I did wonder about bringing up Karl Popper and falsifiability, if only to see how he would bat it away, but didn't.  Indeed, part of the point of those members of the family who weren't suffering symptoms taking the tests (and Rhys really pressed over why we would do something so strange) was so they could show an absence of intolerances.  I did, however, point out that his arguments, hugging any supportive evidence close to his bosom whilst dismissing the inconvenient truths, is exactly how people try to justify astrology.  He barely flinched.  Truly a credit to the cause.

Rhys promised to escalate my email as a formal complaint as that I would be contacted within five days.  A month later, having had no contact whatsoever, I emailed to say that I was making a Section 75 claim for mis-representation.  Minutes later my mobile rang and we agreed a 50% refund.

If only the world could get the same deal on astrology.

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2084 - The Meschera Bandwidth

2084. The world remains at war.

In the Eurasian desert, twenty-year old Adnan emerges from a coma with memories of a strictly ordered city of steel and glass, and a woman he loved.

The city is the Dome, and the woman... is Adnan's secret to keep.

Adnan learns what the Dome is, and what his role really was within it. He learns why everybody fears the Sickness more than the troopers. And he learns why he is the only one who can stop the war.

Persuaded to re-enter the Dome to implant a virus that will bring the war machine to its knees, the resistance think that Adnan is returning to free the many - but really he wants to free the one.

24 0s & a 2

Twenty-four slipstream stories.  Frequently absurd, often minimifidian, occasionally heroic.

Friday, 9 July 2021

Roadkill

 



He scans the torch around the wreck. He is about to leave the scene when something catches his attention on the far side of the rocky outcrop into which the vehicle has punched itself. He walks over, bends down to investigate.

“Jesus.”


He recoils in shock, staggers back, vomits.


Shakily, he returns to the pick-up and spends some moments just leaning against it thinking, thinking, before, suddenly decisive, he takes the pistol from the glove compartment. He goes back behind the rocky outcrop and aims it at whatever has occupied his attention.


The still of the night is broken by a gunshot...

#

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2084 - The Meschera Bandwidth

2084. The world remains at war.

In the Eurasian desert, twenty-year old Adnan emerges from a coma with memories of a strictly ordered city of steel and glass, and a woman he loved.

The city is the Dome, and the woman... is Adnan's secret to keep.

Adnan learns what the Dome is, and what his role really was within it. He learns why everybody fears the Sickness more than the troopers. And he learns why he is the only one who can stop the war.

Persuaded to re-enter the Dome to implant a virus that will bring the war machine to its knees, the resistance think that Adnan is returning to free the many - but really he wants to free the one.

24 0s & a 2

Twenty-four slipstream stories.  Frequently absurd, often minimifidian, occasionally heroic.

Sunday, 20 June 2021

42 is not the answer, but 1000 may be...

I'm questioning my strategy.  For a while, I've had my eyes on the L. Ron Hubbard Writers of the Future award, what with being a previous losing finalist and having four silver honorables (sic).

To that end, I've been producing some heavyweight pieces, more novellas than short stories per se, informed by the fact that the piece that got me to the final was a shade under 10,000 words.  The latest is a 16,700 word story (the competition limit is 17,000) about a videogame for oligarchs and magnates played out by unwilling human avatars.  It was intended for the last quarter, but other things got in the way.  It's only just ready for this.  This follows my metaphysical story about the power of the square root of minus one - a mere 10,000 words - and a 12,000 word tale of religious cults (I know, what was I thinking?).

But is this the way to go?

After all, writing stories that are that lengthy but also as honed as a short story has to be - not shuffling and rambling, like novels can get away with - is a time-sapping exercise.  Opportunity costs decree that there are other stories not being written.  Does it make any business sense?

Well, with my other hat on, the one that keeps a straight face Zooming CEOs and executive directors, I thought I'd try to come up with a definitive answer to the length of story I should be writing.  And the answer doesn't appear to be 16,700 words.

Let me say straight up that I couldn't have done this without the Submission Grinder, as that's where all the raw data comes from.  I have no idea what proportion of activity in the market it reflects but, given it shows about 75 acceptances for Daily Science Fiction who publish a piece each weekday, I’d say about a quarter to a third.  Which is reasonable.

As a starting point, I wanted to know how many markets there were, by both word count and rate of pay.  For markets that publish sci-fi, whether exclusively or not, the answer is this:



NB: the chart shows cumulative totals, so the 1 cent market includes those paying more, as all those will get you at least 1 cent per word.  I've also included markets which restrict who can submit so, unless you're a neuro-divergent lesbian from an Indigenous Nation, you'll find some of these doors closed to you.

That there are far more markets paying a little than a lot, or that more markets are interested in something that can be read in the time it takes to drink a mug of coffee than grow the beans shouldn't be a surprise to anybody who dabbles a toe in this unforgiving world.  Perhaps the more interesting point is that there are more 8c per word markets for something 1000 words long than 1c per word takers for something 8000 words in length (which has a lot to do with why nobody’s seen that Writers of the Future finalist, even at a token rate).

The peak number of markets is 72 at 1000 words.  It's worth adding that this is the borderline, both high and low, for a lot of publications.  Run the analysis at 999 or 1001 words and the market drops by 11 and 15 players, respectively.  And how many publications want to see stories at the absolute edge of their envelope?  That’s rarely the sweet spot.

But just because there are places to submit to, it doesn't follow that they'll take your crazy cheese dreams double spaced in 12-point Times New Roman.  Luckily, the Grinder gives average acceptance rates.  So, what I did was try to work out at what payment point the 'average' story should be sold at. 

This is the bit which will have actuaries turning in their night-time graves.  (You do appreciate actuaries are the living dead, real-life zombies?  I suspect even some of them don't realise it).  As the 1000 word mark is where there are most markets, I used the data for those 72 markets to calculate an average acceptance rate at any given rate of pay.  Given that some markets pay fixed amounts or have bands of payment rather than strict per word rates, and therefore may appear at different pay rates for different word counts, it's all a huge approximation.  I also haven't weighted the average, so picky stalwarts like Clarkesworld and F&SF sway the numbers as much as some here-today-gone-tomorrow merchant or an anthology with mayfly-like longevity.

Also, not being a neuro-divergent lesbian from an Indigenous Nation, I've excluded any markets I don't qualify for from the calculation of average acceptance rate (some looked, frankly, high, suggesting a lower quality threshold) but they're still in the total number of markets as, well, I couldn't be bothered to trawl through all thirty-four sets of data to adjust.  Yes, it's lazy and inconsistent but, frankly, the football's on and it's just meant to be a bit of fun.

What we end up with is the chart below.  What I've done is take the number of markets available, from the numbers above, and the average acceptance rate at each pay point and multiplied the two.  If that suggests a better than evens chance, that's the rate the chart says a story should be sold at.  If not, go on to the next pay point, using the cumulative total of markets that'll pay that or better, and the acceptance rate for that (and only that) payment rate. Rinse and repeat.  Clear?  And I've also repeated it restricting it to half the market, not just because of woke restrictions, but because not all markets take all kinds of science fiction and whatever you've written, it won't fit every editorial brief.


What the data are saying is that, if I could submit any story to any market that accepts that word count, then if I keep it below 1500 words, I should pick up eight cents per word (at an average acceptance rate of 4.36%).  A more traditional short story length should garner me three cents per word, two when the word count hits five figures.  Even the more realistic analysis reckons I should bank on three cents a word for anything up to 5000 words, dropping to a single penny at double that length.

And when you factor in that you can write a greater number of shorter stories - which takes longer?: ten thousand-word tales or one ten-thousand-word monster? that I’m even wondering suggests they’re about equal - the outcome is clear.  Writing novellas is the literary equivalent of being a wheeltapper or coal miner: maybe the world needs a few still, but not that many.  Note to self: cease and desist.

Can’t remember where, but some submission guidelines recently said something along the lines of ‘professionals rarely write anything less than 6000 words’.  Why?  Unless you're writing novels, and that WotF candidate has kept me away from my Sisyphean task since March, that's where the greatest chances of success are.  The sweet spot is definitely below 5000, perhaps more in the region of 1500.

Forty-two is, however, definitely too short.

#

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2084 - The Meschera Bandwidth

2084. The world remains at war.

In the Eurasian desert, twenty-year old Adnan emerges from a coma with memories of a strictly ordered city of steel and glass, and a woman he loved.

The city is the Dome, and the woman... is Adnan's secret to keep.

Adnan learns what the Dome is, and what his role really was within it. He learns why everybody fears the Sickness more than the troopers. And he learns why he is the only one who can stop the war.

Persuaded to re-enter the Dome to implant a virus that will bring the war machine to its knees, the resistance think that Adnan is returning to free the many - but really he wants to free the one.

24 0s & a 2

Twenty-four slipstream stories.  Frequently absurd, often minimifidian, occasionally heroic.





Tuesday, 1 June 2021

May the Force be with you

Goodbye May.  May's been good to me.

Not only did I reach my sales target for the year, but doubled it.  Four sales in a month.  Not sure I've done that before.  Not sure I ever will.

So, in addition to 'The Pizza Bug' going to Cryosieum Press and Frost Zone's Handmade Horror,

  • Martian Magazine will be running 'General Katutian Surveys her Triumph' (something of a cheat, I'll admit - not only is this a drabble, it was originally sold to Martian in 2018, accepted, returned when the magazine went into hibernation, and has now been re-accepted.  But I'm including it.  See if I care.)
  • Urhi Publishing have taken 'Roadkill' for their Needle Drops... anthology series.  There's talk of producing theme music for some of the stories.  I'm intrigued.  And...
  • 'The Smartest Guy in the Room' will be in Mystery Weekly Magazine's Die Laughing anthology.
Two horror stories, plus one criminally funny one (allegedly), and the only sci-fi is a hundred words long.  So should I still think of myself as a sci-fi writer?  Why not get your hands on these and judge for yourself:

#

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You're here, so surely you know how to do that?


2084 - The Meschera Bandwidth

2084. The world remains at war.

In the Eurasian desert, twenty-year old Adnan emerges from a coma with memories of a strictly ordered city of steel and glass, and a woman he loved.

The city is the Dome, and the woman... is Adnan's secret to keep.

Adnan learns what the Dome is, and what his role really was within it. He learns why everybody fears the Sickness more than the troopers. And he learns why he is the only one who can stop the war.

Persuaded to re-enter the Dome to implant a virus that will bring the war machine to its knees, the resistance think that Adnan is returning to free the many - but really he wants to free the one.

24 0s & a 2

Twenty-four slipstream stories.  Frequently absurd, often minimifidian, occasionally heroic.

Tuesday, 18 May 2021

Why story structure says we're all doomed

For a birthday present last week, I decided to join the Green Party.

Being a previous Liberal Democrat and lifelong hornet you'll see I side with the plucky underdog, the rank outsider (did I hear 'loser' from someone at the back?).  Those two win some, lose some.  But the Greens are different. They're destined to lose.

Odd words from a believer and a supporter, I know.  Let me explain.

There's a cartoonish simplicity to British politics reproduced, I suspect, wherever humans are involved.  The Labour movement grew up to fight for the flat-cap wearing loom weavers against the tweedy factory owners rolling around in gold sovereigns like pigs in shit.  Then the workers won the right not to have their hands cut off by moving machinery after eighteen-hour shifts without a break for a cup of char and a wad, at which point the Tories said now you've all got two half-farthings to rub together, look at how those socialists are going to take them from you.  There are the feckless and the foreigners to watch out for, and thievery everywhere, and if you really want urchins educated it's gonna cost you loads.  Plus, you'd be better off with us in case the French invade, a fear which forever lurks at the very core of the British psyche.

The point is that we are hard-wired to think in terms of sides.  There are us and the people out to get us, and we vote for the people who are most like us and most out to get the people out to get us.

I look forward to being cited in PhD theses.

And that simplistic approach to politics is, I think, just another facet of how we tell stories because story-telling reflects something at the very heart of what it is to be human.  And our stories, from our first nursery rhymes onwards, have heroes and villains, protagonists and antagonists.  We pick sides.  And the key point here is... sides are different.  Otherwise, they wouldn't be sides.

It's such an obvious rule of story structure that almost everything written about it takes it as read.  Google "antagonist and protagonist" and you get advice like:

In all of them the implied, but never stated, parameter is that they're necessarily different.  Think about it.  There are no decent stories where antagonist and protagonist are the same character.  Sure, there's Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde and all its kith and kin, but these are always two characters in the same body.  We have no narratives where the hero and villain are the same person at the same time, where to side with one is to side with the other.  It doesn't make sense.  It's squaring a mental circle, an inconceivable impossibility.

And the trouble with climate change is that we're doing it to ourselves.  We are our own antagonists.  We cannot win without defeating ourselves.  Get your heads around that.  If we think we can reverse climate change without stopping the use of fossil fuels, we can'tAnd we just can't stop using fossil fuelsWe just can't, not without sacrificing too much.  We are not the solution.  We are the problem.  And if we think with a bit of recycling and a Tesla we'll get the world back on track, we're as delusional as Leonardo di Caprio in Shutter Island (oops, post-hoc spoiler alert!).

It's hardly surprising that everybody from our leaders downwards has created a narrative where things aren't as bad as they seem.  The truth would leave you looking like Munch's Scream.  Even the Green movement tries to put it into chewable if unpalatable chunks.  Put simply, the scale of the problem is too harsh a mirror to turn on ourselves, hence we can't cope.  So, what do we do?  We deny, and underplay, and construct an alternative reality where we haven't done this to ourselves, where we're not doing it to ourselves as we speakThere's a decent hypothesis that says climate change and the behaviours it drove was a causal factor in the spread of Covid-19 but, hey, that's not going to play well in swing states and marginal constituencies so we just don't go there.

Now, if only we had an antagonist to rail against.  Wouldn't that make everything oh so much easier?  For me, one of the great mysteries of history is how the British people were persuaded to accept rationing in World War 2.  Not the rationale for it, that was clear (even more so than the climate crisis today, perhaps, because of its proximity and immediacy), but for everybody to play their part, for the one-handed loom weavers and the those with gold sovereigns still stuck to their tweeds to share and share alike.

I don't think it all came down to altruism.  I think it had more to do with an antagonist.  The biggest baddest antagonist of all time.  Adolphus Schicklgruber.  Hitler, to you and me.

So here's today's fever dream hypothesis: that we won the Second World War, in part, because we had Hitler to focus on, and everything that those fighting did, large or small, could be seen as going up a human-sized antagonist, an easy to understand foe because we understood wolves and witches and evil stepmothers.  And if each and every one of them, including my father, was up against an evil opponent, that made every one of them a hero on the side of good.  Wouldn't that keep you going just a little bit longer?

Would anthropomorphising Covid-19 - nasty virus! bad virus!! down boy!!! - give you some frame of reference in keeping up the hunt for a vaccine?  I expect so.  And well done to those that achieved it.

But climate change?  There is no antagonist for us to rail against.  Shit, I'm using fossil fuels just working at this laptop, searching the internet for the links above, uploading this blog post.  You see the problem?

I can only see the logic leading to one possible solution.  To solve the climate crisis, we must create an antagonist.  Somebody we can rail against.  Trump?  Russia?  The French?  I like the sound of all of them, but if we are all the problem, maybe everybody needs to be the antagonist.  You are all my antagonists.  And I am yours.  I am causing your climate crisis and you are causing mine - but the idea that we are each causing our own is simply impossible to keep within my own brain, because I'm hard wired to be the hero in my own story.

Which can only mean... the only way to solve the climate crisis is, in my humble opinion... to turn on each other... total global war.  Mass slaughter.  Only when I am the last man standing can I say the climate crisis has been averted.  And the same is true for you.  Huzzah!

Hmm...  I hope I don't achieve any sort of position of influence in the Greens... I wouldn't want this blog to come back to haunt me.  I'm not sure they have that great a grip on satire...

#

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You're here, so surely you know how to do that?


2084 - The Meschera Bandwidth

2084. The world remains at war.

In the Eurasian desert, twenty-year old Adnan emerges from a coma with memories of a strictly ordered city of steel and glass, and a woman he loved.

The city is the Dome, and the woman... is Adnan's secret to keep.

Adnan learns what the Dome is, and what his role really was within it. He learns why everybody fears the Sickness more than the troopers. And he learns why he is the only one who can stop the war.

Persuaded to re-enter the Dome to implant a virus that will bring the war machine to its knees, the resistance think that Adnan is returning to free the many - but really he wants to free the one.

24 0s & a 2

Twenty-four slipstream stories.  Frequently absurd, often minimifidian, occasionally heroic.

Thursday, 6 May 2021

The horror! The horror!

Delighted to announce another story acceptance, my third of the year and the one that meets my absolute minimum requirement to keep writing, my equivalent of the forty points needed to stave off relegation.  I'm aware this analogy may not translate very well in certain territories.

Like Hamilton, Ontario, Canada, possibly, where Cryoseism Press and Frost Zone Press will be including my revelation as to how all the best places make their pizza sauce, 'The Pizza Bug', in their Handmade Horror anthology later this year.

Horror has been good to me recently, with JayHenge Publishing reprinting my story 'The Loimaa Protocol' in their Chorochronos Archives.  Submitted on March 23rd, accepted the next day, paid on 2nd April, and published on April 8th, I can only assume they have a time machine themselves.


And, in the last few weeks I've also had drop through my door contributors' copies of Black Beacon Book's Murder and Machinery (universal five star reviews on Goodreads) and Fear Knocks Press' Wasatch Witches (Sarah's four star review of my tale, 'The Moth': "
I’m not sure if this story leaves me feeling bereft or full", which pretty much sums up the effect I'm after.)

#

Click on the images or search for these on Amazon.
You're here, so surely you know how to do that?


2084 - The Meschera Bandwidth

2084. The world remains at war.

In the Eurasian desert, twenty-year old Adnan emerges from a coma with memories of a strictly ordered city of steel and glass, and a woman he loved.

The city is the Dome, and the woman... is Adnan's secret to keep.

Adnan learns what the Dome is, and what his role really was within it. He learns why everybody fears the Sickness more than the troopers. And he learns why he is the only one who can stop the war.

Persuaded to re-enter the Dome to implant a virus that will bring the war machine to its knees, the resistance think that Adnan is returning to free the many - but really he wants to free the one.

24 0s & a 2

Twenty-four slipstream stories.  Frequently absurd, often minimifidian, occasionally heroic.