Silly Season

My tree!

Ho ho HOLY CRAP! I have been dreadful at posting lately!! A thousand apologies.

Life does get in the way. I have a lot of illness and worry in my family these days, and my energy is better spent elsewhere.

Writing DOES continue apace. I have a new, true ghost story just out in Jeff Bennington's CREEPY 3 anthology. Christmas is the traditional time for ghost stories, and there are some nice spine-tinglers in this collection. Check out mine: 'The Watcher in the Woods' about an apparition I saw just after my own near-death experience. http://www.amazon.com/Creepy-Collection-Stories-Series-ebook/dp/B00AKYD120

Another ghostly short story turned into a fourteen thousand word novelette! 'In Sarah's Room' is a period piece... a creepy slow-burn of a ghost story in the tradition of M.R. James. This anthology (tentatively entitled TREADING CLOSE BEHIND) was also aiming for a Christmas release, but the consensus of the authors means that we'll likely be releasing it through a small UK publisher instead, hopefully not too far into 2013. Look for great dark stuff from B.L. Lloyd, Shalini Boland, V.R. Christensen and myself, to name a few...

Meantime, if you're doing your holiday shopping, books are always a good choice!

BASE SPIRITS is perfect to read whilst shivering by the fireplace...
In paperback- US: http://www.amazon.com/Base-Spirits-Ruth-Barrett/dp/1453643001 Also in the UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Base-Spirits-Ruth-Barrett/dp/1453643001
In e-book format- Kindle US (but also everywhere else where Kindle is marketed!) http://www.amazon.com/Base-Spirits-ebook/dp/B005L38G8E
All other e-book formats at Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/84640

I have received Scrivener ( http://www.literatureandlatte.com/scrivener.php) as an early Christmas gift, so I'm hoping it will help streamline my fiction writing process. I aim to have the first book of THE DEAD DRUNK mystery series IN THE BAG done over the winter. There's not much else to do in Stratford over the snowy months!

I wish one and all the very best of the season and a brilliant 2013. May you be surrounded by love, abundance, and good health. Enjoy every minute with your family and friends. Make merry. The rest is just so much noise.

Of 'Fearful Morsels' and Downton Abbey Manners

I admit it. I love Downton Abbey, even if it really is just a high-class soap opera.

I imagine a lot of you watch it. No doubt you giggle at the Dowager Countess and the extremity of household protocol. Surely people were never so silly!

Or were they?

I am a history nut. When digging around in musty book shops, sometimes a treasure is unearthed... like a book of etiquette from times past. One such tome is a prized possession of mine by one Emily Holt, and bears the rather florid title:

~ENCYCLOPAEDIA OF ETIQUETTE ~
~WHAT TO DO
~WHAT TO SAY
~WHAT TO WRITE
~WHAT TO WEAR
~A BOOK OF MANNERS FOR EVERYDAY USE~
[Augmented by Eight Half-Tone Illustrations]

(*Whew* I feel under scrutiny even before I crack open the cover, don't you?)

This is not an English book, but Canadian! Brought to you by the good people at Toronto's Musson Book Company Ltd., it lays it on the line for the more uppity colonials precisely how to behave in a civilized society. I cannot find a date, but I would guess it must be just about pre-WWI, due to some references to proper motorcar etiquette.

It is packed full of gems. I will share my favourite here today-- as the holidays are drawing close, and you wouldn't want to make a fatal social blunder at a dinner party, now would you?

[Tip: it is best read aloud in your most convincing Maggie Smith impersonation.]

'ACCIDENTS AT TABLE'

'MISHAPS will overtake the best regulated diner, who, however, when anything flies from the plate or lap to the floor, should allow the servant to pick it up. Should grease or jelly drop from the fork to one's person, then to remove the deposit with the napkin corner is the only remedy.

How often, oh how often! does the apparently well-conducted man or woman, when such an accident befalls, gravely wipe his or her knife on a bit of bread or the plate's edge and heedfully scrape away at the the offending morsel. This is decidedly the wrong way to do it, just as it is an egregious error thoughtfully to scrape up a bit of butter or fragment of fowl from the tablecloth where it has fallen beside the plate. At the family board this is well enough, but to do so at a restaurant or a friend's table is wholly unnecessary.

If an ill-starred individual overturns a full wine or water glass at a dinner table, profuse apologies are out of place. To give the hostess an appealing glance and say: Pray forgive me, I am very awkward, or, I must apologize for my stupidity, this is quite unforgivable, I fear, is enough.

Should a cup, glass or dish be broken through carelessness, then a quick, quiet apology can be made and within a few days sincere repentance indicated by forwarding the hostess, if possible, a duplicate of the broken article and a contrite little note.

A serious and unpleasant accident is that of taking into the mouth half done, burning hot, or tainted foods and the one course to pursue is quickly and quietly to eject the fearful morsel on the fork or spoon, whence it can be quietly laid on the plate, or into a corner of the napkin. This can be so deftly accomplished that none need suspect the state of affairs and the napkin folded over and held in the lap throughout the meal.'

(I would be tempted to add, 'Whilst the juices of the of the fearful morsel may then stealthily seep in the fabric of one's dinner jacket or evening dress, this unfortunate side-effect of one's masochistic politeness must be borne without complaint. If one has a close family relationship with the hostess, a discreet bill for the cleaning may be sent in due course with a polite request for recompense, but, in the case of business partnerships or nobility, a stiff upper lip and a greasy lap is the only remedy'.'

Until my next post, dear Reader, I remain faithfully yours,

Ms. Ruth Anne Barrett

That Way Madness Lies

Calm on the outside...

I remember as a young teen researching a class presentation for a science fair. We could choose any topic, and I took it upon myself to explore the connection between creativity and madness.

What kind of a topic is that for a fourteen year old? Ambitious! One might even say... crazy. But it's not a new concept by any stretch of the imagination: so many painters, writers, musicians, actors and creatives of all sorts are remembered just as much-- or more-- for their despair, manias, or erratic behaviour than they are for their artistic contributions to the world. As a prime example, I recall being particularly fascinated by the tragic figures of visual artists, and that they played a central role in this odd academic exercise: after all, they literally illustrated my point. I had glossy books of whirling, tormented paintings by the likes of Van Gogh and Hieronymus Bosch propped up beside my carefully assembled Bristol board musings to share with my classmates. I had sunk my teeth into my serious research with gusto, and I knew my stuff.

But?

When I stood up before a room of my contemporaries and introduced my topic, I suddenly was struck hard by the absurdity of it all. Don't get me wrong-- mental illness is no joke: I didn't think it then, and I don't think it now. But there-- in that moment-- I found it hilarious, and was possessed by a fit of the giggles. As I choked back my inappropriate hilarity and forced myself to continue, I became aware of my classmates' faces: some looked amused, but there were expressions ranging anywhere from bafflement and boredom to contempt and open dislike. "They must think I'm nuts!" I thought. That revelation did not exactly help me recapture my self-control. I stumbled through the rest of presentation, and returned-- still giggling-- to my desk.

To this day, that thought bubble is never really out of my head: "They must think I'm crazy" has been a sort of underscore to my life's journey.

This morning, I was slowly getting into my day-- I'll be working on a ghost story this afternoon-- and as  I often do, I found something interesting to watch on-line as I downed a pot of black coffee. I tend to gravitate toward history and documentaries... always in search of new story and character ideas. I found this post on Open Culture dedicated to Stephen Fry: http://www.openculture.com/2012/10/stephen_fry_friday_his_musings_on_life_swearing_depression_shakespeare_nanoscience_more.html

Perfect Saturday morning brain fodder. I love Stephen Fry. And of all the video options on this page, I chose his 'Secret Life of the Manic Depressive' that he shot for the BBC in 2006.

And it is extraordinary. And it's had me thinking.

How much madness is in any artist's 'method'? I have stacks of notebooks filled with scribbled ideas for stories. If I actually followed through on every thread I conceive, I'd never leave my desk. My dreams are epic and filled with vivid imagery and complex themes. I've always been drawn to music, acting, visual art, opera, writing, dance, comedy and film... the richness of the worlds created from pure imagination washes over me like the warmth of the sun, and I simply cannot get enough.

I've always been on the outside, observing, taking it all in. Storing it up. I hoard.

I'm weird.

I'm not saying I'm on the same level of genius as those I admire, or suffer some real form of manic depression (I don't think I do-- there seem to be such wild variations and levels that it's not impossible.) But I do wonder. What is the nature behind of all this inspiration-- this literal 'breathing in' of concepts and images, words and music? It can become overwhelming. There are times I avoid my own creativity. Sometimes I go months without 'really' writing. It's almost like I'm afraid of the obsessive quality of the process. When I let it take charge, the false world I'm inventing seems almost more vibrant and 'real' than the literal world around me.

I can contain it and function, but it sometimes makes for a difficult dance. Repression of creativity is doubly dangerous: too many times in my life, I have found myself a frustrated artistic soul. Only other creatives have any clue what inner torture it is when you are working in an office, or a bank, or retail or what have you in order to merely survive. It sucks the soul out of you. People who don't 'get it' judge you by the fact that you aren't a bestseller or starring on Broadway, and assume it's because you're a talentless hack with delusions of grandeur, and not due to the innumerable vagaries of pursuing any artistic profession. This causes the frustration to take on an even darker edge. Like the faces of the kids in my classroom, I feel aware of 'them' looking at me askance.

"They must think I'm nuts."

So-- are all creative types off-kilter? Is artistic output a coping mechanism, or is creativity itself the sort of madness that can become something wonderful when it finds its proper conduit?

I haven't found any answers yet. Maybe all humans are a bit crazy. It's the degree and the manifestation that makes all the difference.

Haunted House Virtual Tour with V.R.Christensen and B.Lloyd

Dig into the past... if you dare.

As promised, some lovely guests! Old houses hold secrets (as shown by Calverley Old Hall in Base Spirits... http://www.amazon.com/Base-Spirits-ebook/dp/B005L38G8E) If you're reading this blog, you yearn for tales such as these... and so here is a stop on a virtual Haunted House tour... ladies? You have the stage.


This time, on the Haunted House Virtual Tour promoting our ghost novellas Blind and Ungentle Sleep (by V.R.Christensen and B.Lloyd respectively), it’s a bit of a cross-over: characters from one book visit the house from the other… if that doesn’t make sense yet, well, try reading the novellas and maybe it will…


***

‘There have been stories, well, like so many of these old places of course, but nothing you need take any notice of,’ said the house agent smoothly, as he escorted his latest clients around the house.

Newly-weds, he guessed, just back from the continent. She looked ... a trifle nervous, Dark shadows under the eyes, denoting sleepless night. The husband, protective. ‘My wife is in need of somewhere quiet, peaceful. We were in the area, caught sight of it and thought we would see around the place.’
‘What sort of stories, exactly?’ asked the lady.
‘Well, you would need to ask Mrs Beadsley, she was housekeeper to the last occupant and comes in to air the place and keep an eye on things generally. But stories they are and no more, I am sure.’
‘Not a happy house, then?’ pursued the lady.
The agent was a little taken aback by this, but quickly collected himself.
‘It has never remained empty for long – and with the female touch, and a little care, you will find it makes an excellent family home..’
‘Why did the last occupant leave?’
‘I believe he found occupation elsewhere which necessitated much travel and decided to relinquish it as a result. And now, can I show you the dining room? The drawing room? And then perhaps upstairs?’
 They viewed the dining room, followed by the drawing room, which was the house agents particular pet and one he particularly like to show to advantage: ‘A rare timepiece, I think you’ll agree – everything kept in the old style, some quite rare pieces, which are becoming increasingly difficult to find …’ To the agent’s satisfaction they reached the upper floor without further questions. Comments were more along the lines of ‘comfortable, spacious, well-lit’ – much more in his line of business.
‘And here is the master bedroom,’ he declared, sweeping the massive oak door back on its well-oiled hinges and extending an all-embracing arm to indicate the painted ceiling, the oriental carpet, the four-poster bed, the curtains, the armchair by the fireplace. A movement by the curtains caused him to purse his lips and he strode across the room in order to close the window.
‘Mrs Beadsley, airing the rooms as I said, no doubt forgot to close the window … ah, this appears to be a little sticky – well, that can soon be fixed …’
He turned to see the husband half supporting his wife who seemed barely conscious. The two men helped her to a chair.
‘Dear, dear, perhaps a little fresh air …’suggested the agent.
‘It’s nothing, it has passed already,’ said the woman, sitting up straight suddenly.
‘Who lived here originally?’ They asked the question together.
‘Well, it belonged to the Tremonton family in the 19th century, but the line died out with the last incumbent, and so it came through a series of hands to be on the market by 1900. Now, if you’re sure you’re quite recovered, perhaps we should …’

The agent felt uncomfortable as he watched the couple walk up the drive. Still, you can’t win them all, he mused briefly, before proceeding to lock up.

Once they were well clear of the grounds, the lady turned to her husband: ‘I knew there was something wrong the moment I stepped through the door – there was a man sitting in the armchair by the fireplace, staring straight ahead; I saw the agent pass straight past him, without a word – and you also did not see him. But what most disturbed me . . .’
‘Yes?’ asked her husband.
‘The eyes. Opaque, sightless. Staring. I think that is what made me faint. Then when I came round – there was no sign of him.’
‘Well, I think after your recent experiences at home, it would be advisable to look elsewhere for a house to live in, my dear, don’t you?  I don’t think Tremonton Manor would quite fit the bill, do you?’
‘I suppose not. Although . . . ‘
‘Yes?’
‘I do wonder what become of him. The last of the Tremontons …’

***

What did happen to Tremonton indeed? And what had been the wife’s previous experiences? If you are curious, read these to find out :

Blind, by V.R.Christensen

And

Ungentle Sleep by B.Lloyd

Links :

Blind : US http://www.amazon.com/Blind-a-novella-ebook/dp/B007E3SNJ6
Blind : UK http://www.amazon.co.uk/Blind-V-R-Christensen/dp/0615598005

Ungentle Sleep : US http://www.amazon.com/Ungentle-Sleep-ebook/dp/B008VIJFLI
Ungentle Sleep : UK http://www.amazon.co.uk/Ungentle-Sleep-ebook/dp/B008VIJFLI

Of Description and Stratford

I am still among the living!

Work has been getting more interesting lately-- for those of you who don't know what my 'day job' is, I actually *write* for money. Most folks know about closed captions for the deaf and hard of hearing (something else I used to write), but another film and television accessibility service for the blind and visually impaired is described video or audio description. That's me. Well not *just* me. I have a theatre background and tons of experience in voice over and narration, so I have recorded a few shows and films. I also live-described the Royal Wedding in 2011 as part of a two-person describer team for the CBC.

In a pouffy big CBC sweater after the ultimate royal all-nighter!

But most of the time... I write scripts.

I don't write in the normal script format, as they are rather technical: I include time codes and cues leading in and out of whatever narration I have added into the story. By way of simple explanation, I end up with something that sounds a bit like a radio play. I am meant to avoid stepping on existing dialogue or soundtrack as much as possible: I describe visuals as they unfold so that the blind can enjoy the same storytelling experience as the sighted audience. I paint pictures with words.

TV and film work is volatile. I know that from my acting days. It's feast or famine... and when it's time to feast, everything else has to go by the wayside. Work isn't as busy as I'd like it to be, but there's enough going on for me to have to set aside the WIP ('In The Bag') for a break... let things simmer on the back-burner while I earn my living.

The magical Stratford Shakespeare Festival Theatre

A fun addition to my work schedule this year is helping to launch a live theatre description service at the Stratford Shakespeare Festival in Ontario. http://www.stratfordfestival.ca/ I live an easy stroll along the Avon from the main stage, and this season I am describing a couple of performances of  '42nd Street' and 'Much Ado About Nothing'. This entails my sitting in the director's booth on headset and microphone and describing the show as it runs to the sight-impaired audience members on their personal headsets. It is a very cool little gig. Not many other jobs start with a trumpet fanfare... ! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FJ7O7KwbZZs I am chuffed to little mint-balls to be involved with a theatre company I have loved and admired for over 30 years, and to be providing this service.

The iconic main stage

So this explains my lack of posts... but it does not excuse it. I am sorry. I really am a bad blogger sometimes. I *do* have a guest post coming up in the next week or so (I promise!) so I hope you'll check that out... and some of the past posts are worth a peek-- have a boo at the archives in the right hand column and see what grabs you.

Interview: Author Stant Litore and His Extraordinary Undead

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B007FJHDBI

One of the great things about being an Indie writer is the true sense of community I've discovered along the way. Writing is a tough and largely solitary slog, so finding connection with others in the same boat is vital if we are to keep sane and true to the journey.

Today I am pleased to share some time with one of my favourite folks I've 'met' over the past year... zombie author extraordinaire Stant Litore.

Now before you nay-sayers out there roll your eyes and groan 'not more zombies', you need to know that Stant's Zombie Bible series has raised the bar for this genre. His work is lyrical and beautifully crafted. The emotion is raw and heartfelt in ways that surprise and hook you at every turn. This is not all about half-rotten ghouls staggering after the hero endlessly growling for 'braaiiinzzzzzzzz'. Stant peels away the layers to the core of our own humanity, and the spiritual stakes are very high indeed. Even if you are not a fan of zombies, give Stant's fiction a try. If you do love zombies, I urge you to have a look at this fresh and intelligent take. It is not for the squeamish, certainly-- but it is so much more than a gory yarn. This is truly literary stuff.

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B007EUOF6Y

Stant has also been incredibly fortunate along his own Indie journey. After launching on his own and creating a devoted following, his books have been picked up by Amazon's publishing imprint 47North! New and fantastic cover art has been revealed [we'll insert the images here] and the excitement is mounting ahead of the release dates: August 14th for the first two books Death Has Come Up to Our Windows and What Our Eyes Have Witnessed, and October 16th is the much-anticipated launch of Strangers in the Land. Here are the links for the books:

Death Has Come Up To Our Windows: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B007FJHDBI
What Our Eyes Have Witnessed: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B007EUOF6Y
(Strangers in the Land is forthcoming: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B007EUOP3W)

Welcome Stant! And congratulations. This is all very exciting!

First of all... why Zombies?

Zombies have always held an eerie fascination for me. It’s the eyes – that these are bodies that look at you and do not see you; they see only food. That’s a terrifying thing. It’s terrifying to the gut, and it’s terrifying in a metaphysical sense.

What inspired you to meld this very specific horror sub-genre with such heightened spiritual matters?

I have no idea. Perhaps just the chance of watching Night of the Living Dead while reading the biblical book of Judges. But zombies do allow us to explore some very intense spiritual questions about both our relationship to our dead … and our relationships with the living. Questions such as “How do we remember our dead, how do we grieve for them and say goodbye to them?” and “What do we see when we look at another human being? How often do we look at another person and see only food – fuel for our desires, our fears, our ambitions?”

When you first began, what were your goals for your books?

Writing them. And holding nothing back.

What's changed?

Not much in terms of the what, but a lot in terms of the how. Originally, The Zombie Bible was going to be a long book containing five novella-length stories. It rapidly became clear that these were big stories, and their character deserved more. It is now a series of very ambitious scope. Of the original five stories, one has been published, one will be published this October, and the other three are yet to come. Along the way, other stories I wasn’t aware of when I began have insisted that I write them.

Tell us about how the 47North deal was born.

I’ve told the full story here, under the title “How the Kindle and KDP Helped Save My Little Girl”: http://zombiebible.blogspot.ca/2012/06/how-kindle-and-kdp-helped-save-my.html It’s worth a read.

Did you ever at any point feel yourself falter along the way? If so, how did you keep yourself on track?

The short answer is no and the long answer is yes. No, not since opening up The Zombie Bible – these stories have torn themselves out of my chest and have not let any doubt or any obstacle get in their way. The long answer is that for years during my twenties I moved very slowly and often faltered in my writing—less from doubts about my craft than from doubts about whether this was the life I *should* be committing myself to. I did not keep myself on track.
Then I had children. I looked down at my daughter’s beautiful face and realized it was time. There could be no more waiting, no more dithering. How could I teach my girls to follow their dreams if I did not pursue my own aggressively and with truth and ferocity?

You're a busy man with a growing family. How have you managed your life/work balance?

Precariously, and with diligence. It helps that I write fast and I revise fast. I trigger myself into a creative mood with music, and I get in fast. That’s not luck, it’s hard work – I’ve trained myself to do that over years. But it does mean I can accomplish a great deal over a lunch break or after the kids are in bed.

What future writing projects are in the cards?

Ah, now that would be telling. You have to be surprised. But I will say that The Zombie Bible will be ongoing for a while, and that you should expect a few fantasy novels in upcoming years that do not involve zombies. Expect panache, pirates (though not on Earth), true love, giants (this is beginning to sound like The Princess Bride), and tales of insane things happening to not entirely sane people. Expect novels that will demand that you hold on tight for a very fierce ride.

Any advice for aspiring Indie authors that you'd care to share?

Find out who your characters really are, let them show you, and find the truth your novel has to tell. Nothing matters more than that. Do not compromise or take shortcuts. Do not chicken out under pressure and write the easier path for your story. If that means you find out two thirds the way through that a near-complete rewrite would give you a story nine times as powerful, you do it. If you won’t have the courage to let your story dig deep into the heart, you’re wasting your time.
Secondly, if you are an indie writer, hire a good developmental editor. This is crucial. I have heard a lot of indies talking about the need for a good copy editor, and that’s certainly essential. But you need a good developmental editor, too – someone who will take an experienced and impartial look at your story and talk with you about which scenes to cut, which scenes to move, where a character is inconsistent or falling flat for a while. Don’t skip this phase. That one additional draft with an expert’s questions to prompt you may be the difference between an okay novel and a great novel.

As always it's been a pleasure-- I hope you'll return and let us know how the books are faring in the coming months!

Mea Culpa!

So I wrote a post exactly one month ago today, promising to be more diligent and post more often.

Oops.

The past few weeks has been a struggle about finding work/life balance in my day. My 'day job' is writing descriptive video TV/Film scripts for the blind and visually impaired. This is contract work that I can do from home (huzzah!) but it is also feast or famine (boo!) I try to tell myself that the relative freedom I have (cool perks like making my own hours, a commute that is a mere stumble from bed to coffee maker to desk, no dress code, and no snarky co-workers or supervisors hanging over my shoulder) is worth the sacrifice of no employment insurance, dental benefits or predictable workflow.

Reality is harsh. I had virtually no income from mid-April until three weeks ago.

In theory, this gave me plenty of time to work on my new novel In The Bag- Book One of The Dead Drunks Mystery series. I did spend a respectable amount of time with my 'boys' Winston and Teddy,  and their ever-flatulent and compellingly ugly bulldog sidekick, Hotspur. But when there is no income, the walls tend to close in. That sort of fear and depression can make one's creativity dry up.

So-- hooray-- there is paid writing work coming in again. But I need to make hay while the sun shines, so I end up putting in 12 hour days. The last thing I feel like doing after sitting at the computer writing all day is to stay put and write well into the evening. I keep reading studies about how sitting more than a few hours a day shortens your life span. Awesome. Did I mention my back hurts? I also stayed inside for 4 days running last week and went a bit stir-crazy. Whee!

As the contract work steadies out into a more predictable flow, I'll find ways to regularly get back to my fictional Stratford sleuths. I enjoy my time with them, so I'm sure you'll all like getting to know them just as much... eventually. I've also been getting outside more this week. I'm feeling a little more human again.

Meantime, I promise to be more faithful to my word! I have some guests on the blog coming up soon. Watch this space...