Supernatural Sunday: A brief look at... Vampires

Every Sunday I'll post about something related to the paranormal world. It's a topic I love, and everything paranormal has fascinated me since I was knee-high to a leprechaun.


This week's post - Vampires.


Vampires have existed in one form or another in every culture on the planet for centuries. The traditional western image of the vampire shot into popularity with John Polidori's The Vampyre. Then along came Bram Stokers creation of Dracula, and when cinema came along Hollywood picked up the ball and ran with it.





Nowadays, the image of a vampire with cape and lisping accent is considered an overdone cliché. In fact, it's pretty recent. Even the word vampire only became popular around the 18th century, so historically it's in its infancy.


Stoker actually has quite a lot to answer for. Instead of drawing on the traditions of vampirism, such as the bloated rotting corpses (not quite so pretty) that inspired the myth in areas such as Eastern Europe and the Balkans, he envisaged an elegant count, with abilities cobbled together from werewolf myths and demonology. He gave him the name of a man many in his home country consider a national hero, and started a fan following that still exists to this day. (Most Transylvanian's are not impressed by the  legions of tourists that pitch up looking for Dracula's grave, considering the whole legend disrespectful and dreadfully inaccurate). 


Thanks to Stoker, we have vampires with sex drives (Anita Blake), vampires that sparkle (Twilight), angst-ridden, whiny vampires (pick a recent mainstream series) and comedy vampires (Fright Night, Once Bitten). 


Around the world in 80 000 vampires
If you define a vampire as something that lives on the life force of others, and don't get stuck purely on the whole blood-drinking thing, there are so many other cultures out there, and they all have vampire myths.

The Adze is a vampiric spirit from the Ewe trip found in parts of Ghana and Togo. It looks like a fire fly, and feeds on coconut water, palm oil and the blood of children. (Guess which one it prefers?)




The Ekkimu was described by ancient Sumerian's as "evil wind gusts" had no physical form at all, and was feared throughout Mesopotamia. This purely psychic vampire later developed a physical form in the Inuit culture and was described as being rotting corpses who retained their mind and personality from when they were living people.





The Kyūketsuki comes from Japan, and can be persuaded to live on honey instead of blood, while the Baital from India is a short (about one &  a half meter tall) half-man half-bat creature. 






These are just a view of the vampires that are found around the world, and the similarities and differences never fail to fascinate me, even though they don't fit the sanitised, sexy version currently popular.

The astounding thing is that every single culture has a version of this myth. That's a lot of people, considering the age of these stories and the fact that cross-contamination between cultures can't account for all of them, it does make you wonder - what happened to start it all?

How did a tribe in Africa come up with a myth that bears a startling similarity to a legend in Japan?

And do we insist that these tales are myth and legend because we are rationalists, or because part of us is very afraid they might be grounded in truth?

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You can find WolfSong on Amazon, Sony  e-bookstore, Nook and Smashwords. Basement Blues is on Amazon and Smashwords.





   

Guest blogs, and blogging in general

The lovely and talented Thea Atkinson had me up as a guest blogger this week over at GonzoInk.

This was my first ever guest blog post, and I was pretty nervous; Thea is one of the most elegant writers I've come across.
I can't claim the same; passionate and enthusiastic yes, elegant, no. It's comparable to inviting a Great Dane puppy into a room full of china. I was hoping I didn't smash anything or leave puddles on the floor.

There was a bit of a hiccup to start with; thanks to my usual ability to kill technology, my home PC decided to go on strike and my net book was giving me gyp. Thea was kind enough to push the date back and I got the post sorted.

It was one of the best learning curves I've ever had; and as it turned out, I had a blast with it.

 It wasn't a blog to just plug the book, it was chance to write about anything I wanted to. How often do you get an opportunity like that? (And why, for the love of Cthulhu, aren't I using it on my own blog? That's pretty much going to change, effective immediately.)

I only started blogging a couple of months ago, and I'm pretty new at the self-promotion game. But looking at GonzoInk, and sites like Mark Williams International  have made me realise that my own blog was pretty, um, boring. Because it doesn't really reflect me as who I am, or what I'm really like. A weekly round-up might keep a few people interested, but on the whole, most of them will probably skip it.

Good blogs not only inform their audience, they entertain, and if you want to be a writer, entertaining the people that shell out their money for your books is vital.

So I'm going to start to blog about the good stuff; which is the world in general, as well as the writing side of things, and see how it goes.

I'd be interested in how anyone else feels about their own and other blogs in the comments section - have you changed your style from when you started? How have other bloggers influenced you? What do you really like reading about in a blog, and what do you hate?

Dream time

Dreams have always had a big impact on my writing. During my interview over at Indie Book Blog  in March, I mentioned that WolfSong started off as a dream about a group of soldiers riding into a village, and finding it full of bodies.

The whole book pretty much took off from there; I woke up wondering about this group and what happened to them. Strangely enough, I've had dreams - standalone episodes and re-runs - about the Crescent since I was about fifteen or so. I look forward to them; it's like my subconscious has decided to chill out with a big bowl of popcorn and the latest action/fantasy installment.

If you're wondering about the movie/t.v. reference above, that's because of how I view the whole dreaming thing - entertainment my subconscious produces for my personal enjoyment. I tend to remember most of them, although I admit there are a couple I try very hard to forget.

Dreams are where my snarky side really gets its boots on: I went through a five or six year patch where I'd suddenly dream about the guy I was currently dating wearing a pink tutu and army boots. Can you say passion killer?
A few relationships later, the tutu dreams stopped - thankfully, since I was starting to contemplate a life of severe abstinence at that point. (The worst was one were the chap concerned was a 6 foot five red-head. Not.A.Good.Look.)

I'm never sure what I'm going to get when I do get to sleep - I tend to suffer from insomnia on and off, so an actual eight hours of sleep is both rare and appreciated. But the couple of hours I do snatch here and there are always filled with dreams, and 90% of the time I'm fully aware I'm dreaming. If I don't enjoy it, I try to switch the channel, so to speak - sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.

Some of the best ones are where I get to eat nice food. My favorites by far are where I can fly.

Apparently, having all five sense active in dreamland is fairly uncommon. I wouldn't know - I've always been able to taste, smell, and feel in them. Sometimes I body-hop; first I'm one person in the scene, then I'm another. I have no idea how common that is either, but it's definitely interesting.

It really is kind of like channel surfing: sometimes it's fantasy, sometimes comedy. On a couple of nasty occasions I get full blown horror, and spend the rest of the day feeling grumpy and out of sorts even if  I've managed to forget the details, which can take a lot of doing.
My subconscious doesn't seem to go for romance much, although every now and then it flips to the porn channel (usually spoilt by part of me going "I don't think that's actually physically possible without breaking something"). For some reason those are usually interrupted by either the phone or the doorbell ringing. Sometimes that's a good thing.
I'm still waiting for a good western to pitch up though, and if I get the same recurring dream too many times I get bored, even with the ones that scared the hell out of me the first couple of times. They tend to go like this:

Subconscious : Spiders! LOTS of SPIDERS.
Me : Oh, jeez! Again? Seriously? Give it up.
Subconscious: HAIRY spiders!!
Me : I could always try shaving them..
Subconscious: Oh, piss off. I'm sulking now, and for that, you get to stay awake for another three hours. Go write your blog..
Me : Oh, bugger.

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You can find WolfSong on Amazon, Sony  e-bookstore, Nook and Smashwords. Basement Blues is on Amazon and Smashwords.

Weekly Round-up, and the WSJ YA storm.

It's been a crazy one again - getting used to being back at work, plus getting Basement Blues out there, sorting out artwork, and screaming hysterically at the electronic malfunctions in my life.

Before moving on to the round-up though - I've had the extreme displeasure of reading the Wall Street Journal article about YA.

Now, I don't write Y.A. I do however read it, and have done so from a fairly early age.

The article is an insult to writers of Young Adult fiction, their agents, and publishers. It is an even bigger insult to the people who read it, most of whom are teenagers.

Teenagers are a lot of things. Often confused, alienated, and trying to figure out the world they are in. The one thing they are not, is stupid. And if they don't like a book, come hell, high water or 6 months detention, they won't read the blasted thing.

Opinion writers like Ms. Gurdon seem to have forgotten this. She seems to have fallen into a trap I've seen before,  which is the one of wishfully relegating teens to the status of children who still require adults to make every decision for them, from the clothes they wear to the books they read.

Hate to tell you this, sweetie, but it doesn't work.

Pretending that teenagers need to be wrapped up in cotton wool and not exposed to the horrors of life is beyond stupid. It's actively dangerous.

They might not be adults legally, but teens are exposed to the world, with all the beauty and brutality that entails.

Pretending they aren't makes Ms. Gurdon appear so far removed from reality, she might as well have invited Tinkerbell to tea in her article.

Moving on from the mini-rant, the round-up:

Travel
Liverpool (cold) and Romford. It was my first visit to Romford, which is not that far away from London. Unfortunately I didn't get to see much apart from the train station and the business I visited.  Best part was chatting to two delightful elderly gentleman on the train coming back about the merits of kindle versus tree books.

Technical Malfunctions
My new wireless headphones decided not to recognise my phone any more. I got them because I was very tired of fighting with the cord on my normal headphones. LSH, who got a pair because I was so chuffed with mine, is still laughing at me. Hers are working fine.

Home PC has (again) become the worlds largest paperweight. Not happy.

And for something completely different, the light fitting in our home toilet has discovered new life as a water feature. Hopefully, the letting agent fixes it before either LSH or I end up crispy crittered, which is a distinct possibility if one of us forgets and flips the light switch while its still raining.

Writing
Got Basement Blues up on Amazon this week - the link is here. I sent a couple of preview copies out and the response was incredibly positive, so I'm moving forward with plans for a full length series with these guys.

Now it's back to working on the follow up to WolfSong. I think the break to work on BB was a good thing. The only problem is I now see a huge amount of the book I want to re-write since it's just not up to scratch. The weird thing is, a year ago I would have been happy with it. But I think in the past 6 months I've learnt so much - and hopefully improved - that there is no way I'm happy putting it out the way it currently stands; so we're talking a major re-write. Possibly from scratch. Ah, well..

I have about a month before university starts up again, so will be writing as much as I can.

Books
Found some absolute gems:

Bubba and the Dead Woman by C.L. Bevill. Waiting for pay day so I can download all of the books by this author, I enjoyed it that much.
Scary Mary by S.A. Hunter - I really hope there's a follow up to this one. Loved the characters.
Wild by Naomi Clark. If you aren't following this particular author by now, you are really missing a treat. And I LOVE the cover for this. I have the feeling it won't be long before this author gets to write full time; there's just too much talent here for it not to happen. Personally, I can't wait, since it means more books from her. :-)
I've also just discovered Camile Laguire and the Mick & Casey adventures, & I can't wait for the next lot.

Catch-up Round-up

This blog has been sadly neglected the last couple of weeks, since once again, I've had my usual effect on technology.. meaning my home PC is currently the worlds largest paperweight.
Anyone in the vicinity of my home town a couple of weeks ago probably heard the wailing, screaming, and gnashing of teeth.

Thankfully, my little net book is now co-operating, although Word is not, and is currently sulking like a grounded teenager, resulting in my having downloaded OpenOffice instead. It's a nifty little programme, and free for people like me who are generally too broke to pay attention. They have a donations button on the site, which is cool, since I feel wrong about using something that is saving my sanity (and writing) and not paying anything for it.

This means I can now get the blog post I've promised Thea Atkinson over at GonzoInk done - she's graciously agreed to push the date back. In the meantime, head on over to her blog say hi - & if you get the chance, I seriously recommend Formed of Clay.
Once again, one of those stories I wish I'd written.

On writing news - Basement Blues is done. I'm putting it together with 2 other short stories, and if I can get the cover art sorted, should be on Amazon as an e-book for the 1st of June. I'm dropping WolfSong back to 0.99 for the month as well, as a 6 month celebration promotion thingy.
 Hopefully, this translates into sales; I have a broken tooth (don't ask) and my dentist appears to want a condo in France, judging by the price to fix it.

In more writing news, Naomi Clarke posted a review of WolfSong on both Amazon & GoodReads . I had an absolute fan girl moment; because a writer I truly admire read my book, liked it - and cared enough to point out the flaws in a really constructive way.

I've had other reviews that pointed out pretty much the same issues. I think - and hope - they've made me a better writer, because I can't disagree with any of them. In the six months since WolfSong got published, I've learnt more than in all the years up until now, and that can only be a good thing.

Oz round-up - Part 2

After a fantastic week discovering bits of Melbourne, we flew to Brisbane. I'm still quite stunned at how efficient and fast the flying process is there, quite unlike the U.K. Although I'm assuming I fit some sort of profile security was looking for, since I got tested for explosive residue on every flight from that one onwards.
I know some people get upset when they're targeted. Personally, I'd rather go through the process because I like knowing they take security seriously, and I'm about to climb into what it is, essentially, a flying tin can.Without a parachute.
Also, it was really quick, and quite interesting; a metal rod with either an electronic head (Melbourne airport) or a type of cotton swab (Brisbane) is waved over your hand-luggage and clothing. The read-out takes seconds and staff were cheerful and friendly the whole way through, which is pretty awesome considering their job can't be that much fun.

After collecting a hire-car (brother/sister road-trip - Yay!) we headed up the coast to Noosa, a nice little resort town about an hour away.

Since it was on the way, we took a detour and spent a couple of hours at the Australia zoo. It's pricey to get in at $100 dollars a pop - and as far as I'm concerned, worth every penny. It's pretty unique as there are a number of interactive areas; you can touch koala's, hand-feed kangaroos, walk through the bird enclosure - and there are opportunities to do things like feed the elephants and walk a tiger.

The place is huge, meaning a lot of walking - my marketing mind was recommending a hire shack for segways or mini-golf-carts - especially after a couple of hours, when my leg decided that between the flight and the walk it was started to feel grumpy. It also means large, natural enclosures and happy looking animals, which is the main thing. I could have happily spent a week there. The Irwin's have done a great job continuing Steve Irwin's legacy. I imagine he'd be proud of what they've achieved here.

We hopped back in the car at closing and headed on to Noosa - actually a little place called Noosaville, as it turned out. My brother had booked a house on a canal; which turned out to be 3 days of bliss. I ended up swimming in the sea when we finally found the beach. It's the first time I've been swimming any where since I broke my leg two years ago. It's really freaky realising just how much metal in one part of your body throws your equilibrium off in the water. Let's just say I didn't stay in long - but it was great.

After Noosa, we headed up to the Gold Coast (other side of Brisbane) and stayed with some friends for my last couple of days in Australia. It rained for most of the time; even so it was easy to see the beauty of the place, although I seem to be allergic to something around there and got a really weird rash. Irritating, but nothing serious - although I was glad it wasn't too hot; heat and skin issues are not a good combination.

Best time : Um, all of it, really time except...
Worst time : My brother deciding to jump off the boat we were on into the canal while on the Gold Coast. I googled the canals before I left the UK. I know what lives there. The fact that they have to have netted swimming areas in the canal (one of which was about 100 metres away from my brothers attempt to feed the bull sharks) tells you a lot. I. was. not. amused.

The plan is to head back there for Christmas - bringing the folks out from S.A. It will be the first family Christmas together in a number of years, so I can't wait. If you've been thinking about a trip to Australia, stop thinking and book your ticket. It's a bit pricey, but worth every penny.

There is something totally enviable about the ability to fall asleep in under 5 seconds..

 Fishing from the boat on the Gold Coast. Didn't catch anything, which is good, since I doubt I could bring myself to kill anything unless I was really starving. The netted swimming area is straight ahead past the bridge.

 The tree outside the holiday house in house attracted these little guys by the score, as well as crows, cranes and bats.

 Gorgeous boat on the Gold Coast. The home behind it is on a man-made residential island.

Oz round-up - Part 1

I'm back. Still mildly jet-lagged, and frankly, posting this as a way of delaying finishing my finance assignment. Mildly tanned, and madly in love with Australia. By the way, never mind the unique wildlife and gorgeous scenery. The food alone is worth the trip out there. And oh, man, that place is clean. I've lived in London for 8 years. It's exciting, frantic - and filthy. In Melbourne, the closest I came to seeing litter in the roads was at around 11:30 at night in the city centre, when the crowds thronging the streets were treated to the sight of my friend throwing half his kebab over my arm by accident.

I had a week galloping around Melbourne, which seems to have non-stop festivals and events happening. I honestly think I could spend 6 months in that city and not see everything.

Best moment in Melbourne : the birthday braai (and massive steaks) at my brother's house.

Scariest moment in Melbourne : discovering that there are genuinely large freshwater sharks in parts of the planet (Northern Australia and New Guinea). Not bull sharks, which I knew about. Spear tooth sharks are incredibly rare - and bloody big. The smallest one I saw at the Melbourne aquarium was bigger than me. These are apparently juveniles. And while they are not known to pose a threat to humans (unlike bulls which have a serious attitude problem), guess who had no inclination to swim in Australian waterways after that? Unlike my brother, who gave me heart failure by jumping off a boat into a canal on the Gold Coast. The image here is from Wikipedia, taken at the Melbourne aquarium, since I had my usual effect on electronics & couldn't get my camera to work.

Happiest purchase: finally getting my paws on some liquid graphite. For some reason they don't import it to the UK, & I've been wanting to try it for a while. If the sketches work I'll post them in the Shadowkatz blog, which has been sadly neglected for a while.

Happiest moment : Catching up with old friends, and making new ones.

Next round-up will be Noosa & the Australian zoo. In the meantime, a couple of pics of the Melbourne skyline, and the possum that decided to hang out with us one night in the backyard.

Sample Sunday - Basement Blues Part 2

As it's Sample Sunday, and the response from the first Basement Blues excerpt was so positive, here's another snippet from the same story. Hope you enjoy.
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So I was starting to moon-dream, and Astrid was trying not to get twitchy over how long Ruth had been in the house. 
 A rumbling, coughing noise erupted from below the porch and a rolling ball of ectoplasm was forcibly ejected into the garden. On the bright side, she missed the rose bush I'd baptised earlier. As a negative, she brought with her quite a few dust bunnies, a number of centipedes, and a couple of large, extremely traumatised spiders.

"No."  Astrid placed one hand firmly on the back of my neck.

"But-"

"Billy!" Astrid bent over and hissed into my ear. "We are in a human neighbourhood. If I ever have to explain to another one why you are chasing the wildlife in human form, I swear I will put catnip in your underwear for the next fifty years!"

She hopped off the car as the front door burst open and Susan came running out, looking horrified and wailing. "Stay here. Calm zombie-girl down before we end up drawing attention."

"Astrid." When she turned back I asked, "Have you ever heard a noise like that?"

She nodded. "About once a month. You get hair balls, Billy. It's gross."

She went off to comfort Ruth, who was flickering - something she only did when either extremely frightened or angry. Catching a glimpse of her face, I was betting on the pissed off option.

I did what any sane man does when confronted with an angry red-head, and headed off  to calm the zombie.

"I don't know what happened," Susan said again.  "She wanted to see the house, so I showed her. Then we went down to the basement and everything went nuts."

"Nuts in what way?"

"The lights started flickering on and off. Then the washer lunged across the floor at us. I was running for the stairs when the main light exploded, and there was this big dark shadow and then something yanked Ruth through the wall."  She sniffed. "I thought - I guess I thought she was dead."

"Susan," I said. "She's a ghost. Trust me on this, she's already dead."

She sighed. "I know. But she looks like a living  person most of the time, and - and she was nice to me, okay? That doesn't happen very often nowadays."

"Okay. Why did you run? What scared you so much down there?"

"I told you," she said. "The washing machine tried to get us."

I must have looked as confused as I felt.

"Billy," she said. "I can't heal. If that machine had hit me and broken my leg, I'd be crippled as well as undead. "

"Has-" my throat was suddenly dry. "Has this thing attacked you before?"

She nodded. "I stopped going down there after the last time, and it wasn't as fast or as scary then  as this time. I thought maybe nothing would happen with Ruth being there." She shrugged. "I guess it doesn't mind an audience."

I rubbed a hand over my mouth and stared at my client. "Susan, you aren't being haunted. This thing is trying to kill you." Permanently. Or even worse, trap her in the basement with it.

Birthday Round-up

Today is going to be kept short, because it's my birthday and I want to go and play in the sunshine.

The past week could also be summarised quite easily as follows:
Work. Work. Study. Work. Have hysterics at pc. Study. Write. Work. Last day at work. Study. Have hysterics at pc. Write. Night out with LSH. Whimper. Whimper. Post blog.

(Said whimpering caused by first consumption of alcohol in 6 months.I pretty much knew it would happen halfway through the first glass of wine. And yes, I drank a lot of water with it. Didn't matter; my body and alcohol are not friends).

Anyway, I thought rather than summarising a relatively boring, though short week, I'd run through my list of Good Things in My Life.

1) Family. I'm so lucky to have my folks, my brother, and a huge assortment of cousins, aunts & uncles, not to mention the rug rats multiplying each year.
2) Writing. I love to write. There is something about falling into your own world that is more addictive than coffee, and without any nasty side effects. When I write I don't worry about money, or my weight, or passing my university course. I just am, it's just me and the story, and I don't think there is a drug on the planet that could replicate that feeling. I've also discovered the world of indie writers, bloggers and readers in a very positive way. And twitter, which has a fairly high percentage of crazy scrolling past my nose each day, and never fails to amuse.
3) Reading. The greatest gift my parents gave me was teaching me to read at a very early age, although my gran was less than amused some time later when she realised her 7 year old grandchild was reading Cujo.
4) Health. The flu has almost totally gone, and the weather is fine and sunny so the plates in my leg are behaving. I feel good.
5) Holiday. I travel to Australia tomorrow, which is a place I've always wanted to go. I get to see my brother and some totally awesome wildlife. I can't wait!

So, it's a beautiful day and life is good. I probably won't be on the blog while I'm torturing the Aussies, but promise a run-down when I get back. Until I do - I wish everyone who reads this joy. Live your life guys, and enjoy every second of it.

Sample Sunday - Basement Blues

Here's a snippet from "Basement Blues", just for Sample Sunday (and a huge thanks to Mary Beeson from mystic thoughts  who put the idea into my head to start with).

The woman sitting in my office chair was stunning. White blonde hair carefully slicked into a chignon, dolce and gabanna bag, smartly tailored blue pants suit. She was also dead, which I was having a bit of an issue with.

Not that I'm prejudiced - my own partners are what you might call life challenged, and I have a little condition of my own - but the smell was getting to me. She'd sprayed some very expensive perfume over herself, and the average human wouldn't have noticed it through the  scent. I am not average. I'm also not human, and the scent of decomp was growing stronger by the minute.

Eventually I lunged for the window, pushing the sill up and leaning out for great gulps of fresh night air. It was either that or throw up on our latest client, and I was fairly sure that suit was designer. I couldn't afford the bill.

 "I'm sorry," Susan Armstrong said from behind me. Her vocal cords were starting to rot, giving her a husky, slightly grating voice.

"It isn't your fault," I said, still leaning as far out of the window as I could. I didn't have to turn around to know that she was crying. I could smell it.

Sunset had been nearly twenty minutes ago. Astrid was late and Ruth was in the field. I needed at least one of them here. I never know what to do with a crying woman. How to handle a crying zombie was so far out of my league I might as well be on Pluto.

A noise outside the main door caught my attention, and I started to relax. At least one of the girls was in.

A moment later, Astrid stuck her head around the door jamb and took in the scene.

"I think we need to go upstairs," she announced, and disappeared again. Vampires have a strong sense of smell - not on the same level as mine, but still acute. She would have smelled the corpse - now wobbling to her feet on 4 inch heels - from the lobby.

Our building has a roof terrace. It was late enough that nobody else was using it - no office drone in their right mind hangs out after sunset in this part of town - and although small it is open to the night air, which was a major requirement right now.

We sat Susan down at the little plastic garden table with the cracked white chair.  Astrid produced a pack of cigarettes, and I almost pounced on her to get one. I hate the smell of tobacco smoke, but even in the fresh air Susan was pretty ripe.

"Hope you don't mind," Astrid said as she lit up. Her tone left little doubt that it wouldn't matter much either way. Never get between a vampire and her nicotine fix. Actually, never get between a vampire and anything they really want.

"Hell, go for it," Susan shrugged. "It's not like it'll kill any of us." She smiled bitterly.

"How did you hear about us?" I asked. Our agency wasn't known for advertising. The paranormal community is pretty small and very firmly in the closet.

Our walk-ins were usually humans who had no idea what we were.

"Your on-line ad." Susan rummaged in her bag while Astrid and I looked at each blankly. 

"We have an ad?" I whispered.

"We're on-line?" Astrid whispered back.

"Here." Susan held out the print-out of a web-page.

""Human or superhuman - or just plain inhuman - we can solve your problem. Blue Moon Detective Agency." Seriously?" Astrid rolled her eyes and passed the sheet back to Susan. "Bloody awful tagline."

"You do understand we can't cure you?" I said. That solve your problem thing was worrying me. I could imagine a number of ways potential clients could take that.

"I imagine a good splash of butane and a match would cure me just fine," Susan said dryly. "At least according to Hollywood."

Astrid shrugged. "That works on most things. The movies can't get everything wrong."

We both sniggered.

"So - you want us to find your killer?" I asked.

"I know who killed me," Susan said.

"Do you need help bringing him or her to the police?" I was groping at straws here, and knew it. Astrid sighed.

"Now that would be impressive." Susan raised an eyebrow. "Hello, zombie? I ate the bastard."

"Much as I'm enjoying watching Billy stuff both feet in his mouth," Astrid said, nudging me to close my mouth, "why do you need to hire us?"

"I think my basement is haunted. I need you to find out why, and what I need to do to stop it."

Okay. I didn't see that one coming.

Weekly Roundup

Due to my PC throwing all of its toys out the cot, plus one hell of a dose of the flu I missed the last weekly round-up. This coming weekend is going to be crazy study wise, since I now have a full week & a bit to catch up on. So ..


Travel
Not for the last two weeks. Was supposed to be in Bristol this Tuesday, but banned from anything work related due to the flu. Been working (or trying to - hard to concentrate on anything except shivering and feeling pathetic) from home and haven't actually left my flat since last Friday.


Technical Malfunctions
My PC is trying to break my heart, and possibly what's left of my sanity. Couldn't write. Couldn't study. Did remember how to swear in Portuguese and Zulu. LSH kindly talked me out of dropping it from the 2nd floor window. It appears I either need a new graphics card (Scream!) or a new screen. (HOWL!) Since right now I can't afford either - visiting Australia in a couple of weeks and scraping every penny together, it looks like I will continue whining about The Infernal Machine for a while.


Study and writing
*Sigh*. See above.. I haven't been able to read for pleasure, never mind study this week.  A couple of well-meaning friends suggested I catch up on writing. Sadly, there is no way I can write anything coherent while feeling like hammered horse-shit, so nothing on that side either. 


Books
In the week before I got ambushed by the snot troll, I found a few real gems:


Flies for the Mayans by Ian Fraser. Disturbing, gorgeous writing.  Don't touch the book with a bargepole if you are sensitive about religion, drugs or sex. On the other hand, if you want to read one of the best stories ever written, I'd recommend snapping this novella up. He also has a  free story up at  http://www.the-utopian.org/post/3459062850/pigmans-fingers - once again dealing with some incredibly dark, usually taboo topics and beautifully written.




Ungrateful Dead by Naomi Clarke. Ethan Banning may just be one of my favourite characters ever. I would have liked a longer story, since I just didn't want this to end either. For 0.71p, it's a good fun read.


No Fear by Allie Harrison - currently free on Amazon and a fun read. Sympathetic characters and a cool little vampire story.


Indie Book Blogger has just posted his best books of March list - cool list. I already have these downloaded to my kindle, saving them for the flight to Australia in a week. Congrats to all the authors on there, I can't wait to read your stuff! Indie is also doing the A-Z blogfest, which sounds like a massive undertaking. 


For the first time in a week I no longer feel like my head is going to explode, and am no longer barking like a small Alsation every time I try to talk. Unfortunately, it appears LSH now has the bug, and is giving me the evil eye every time she shuffles sadly downstairs for more med-lemon. I'm just grateful I'll be allowed back to work next week. Although you know I'm sick when I don't even have cabin fever from being in pretty much one room for a solid week.


Now all I need to do is panic over catching up on university stuff..


Mood: Not quite dead yet. 

It aint heavy, it's my pitchfork

Between catastrophic computer failure and an almighty dose of the flu (I currently look, sound and feel like I've been ambushed by a snot troll) I never got to my weekly round-up. Hopefully get that sorted at some point this week, when my brain no longer feels like it was bent, folded, spindled and mutilated.
In between whimpering gently into a tissue and sleeping, all I had the energy for this week was a scroll through twitter. If you follow any of the writers forums out there, you know that an author had a meltdown of note on Big Al's Books and Pals.

The scariest thing was not watching someone destroy a career (over a fairly ok review). It wasn't even the backlash of comments on that blog and others, which was only to be expected.
It was the number of people who decided to go onto sites like Amazon and trash her on a personal level because of her comments. Without reading the book.

The viciousness is terrifying. One of the comments went something along the lines of "Howett has to be publically punished and ridiculed for her actions." Seriously? You've never done anything stupid and/or vicious in public or on a forum? Oh, no, wait - that post you just wrote....

Leaving aside the fact that the author has no doubt booked a 6 month ticket to Antarctica (or somewhere else with no internet connection), what gives any one of us the right to decide this? It's not like the woman recommending raping a puppy, people.

She channelled her inner Sith Lord for a few ill-chosen words. I'm not defending what she did; bloggers work damn hard for no compensation, and frankly, you send your book out and hope to hell they like it. And if they find a problem, you try to fix it.
 (If Scott from Indie Book Blogger hadn't kindly let me know about some of my formatting issues, WolfSong would still be trundling along on the first edition. And I'm still cringing over that.)

We just don't know why she re-acted this way. I doubt it was purely the review. But if this author was already stressed out enough to imitate Darth Vader with spelling issues, how is bullying her on Amazon or facebook or wherever you like going to help? And what makes you any different to the neighbourhood bully who beats the crap out of the kid with the stutter?

I'm not sure what is a sadder indication of the human condition - the fact that people find it acceptable to hunt others down on the net to abuse them (the little girl who recorded Friday will probably need therapy at some point) or fact that people want to hunt others down on the net to abuse them.

So far that hasn't happened to me (I'm thinking about naming the first troll I get and keeping it as a pet), probably because I'm not exactly high profile or well known. But I can't say I'm looking forward to the day it does happen.

And now, since I've sneezed something like 37 times while writing this post, I'm going to go bath and mainline flu meds.