Tag: Publishing

How to buy a flying motorhome on Jivada

Another work-in-process teaser, this one from Elbert, the first book in the Anye Constituency series. Illustration by Khoi Anh

Badari

The seller was a goat farmer, living on the rocky north coast not far from the SagGha temple where Guru Orsa disembarked the day they met him. He was Mahat Limar, talkative, apparently richer than King Midas, having a leasehold spanning a huge tract of land dotted with feed stalls and animal shelters.

The travel coach was kept in a barn, a space dedicated more to veterinary science than goat hospitality, but there was community on hand. Charlotte would have taken one home if she had a place to keep it. “This female is adorable!” Continue reading “How to buy a flying motorhome on Jivada” →

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The Vigil

I’ve been watching my KENP stats this month, which reveal that someone’s been reading my books!

It seems likely that it’s one reader, but the app doesn’t reveal that information – and there’s a blip on May 16 suggesting a person (maybe the same reader, maybe not) finished Silken Thread in one sitting.

Regardless, someone is consuming 30-60 pages in the Anye Legacy series every morning. If it’s one reader, then that person must have liked the first book, because Quantum Soul picked up on the chart a day after the page count for Illusion of Gravity dropped off. I can’t wait to see if Resilient pops up next.

It’s like a lottery ticket in my pocket. Am I about to be discovered? Woo!

I don’t have a punchline for this post, except to say – if you’re intrigued, check out my books. You might be next on the chart!

Keep reading. We need you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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How to build an alien death ray

Another teaser from a work-in-progress novel, demonstrating that it's hard to write hard science fiction. This bit might have flaws, as I've never actually built a laser. Comments from those who have are solicited.

Chapter 167

Titan Pass, Nevada

Lasers are uncomplicated devices, but as one scales them up, they can be challenging to build. Small gas and ruby lasers are easy to make; but if one desires a large-scale diamond laser, he’d better have on hand an assortment of supplies and tooling.

Borosilicate glass pipe, taken off the bill-of-materials of a coal dust combustion reactor (for a never-to-be-assembled abrasives processing line), makes a fine armature for a lasing rod.

Insert the pipe into the chuck of a CNC lathe/vertical milling machine, trickle in refined diamond grit, pulse into a liquid state with an Anye-tech fuser mounted to a servo-driven tool arm, manipulating crystal lattice structure with components made for a quantum assembler (which you will also never finish).

Dope the mix with semiconductor manufacturing chemicals, forming internal optical circuits. Measure with a full-spectrum LED shop light and high-resolution imager (a phone camera).

Mirror coat the borosilicate pipe. Apply a suspension containing light emitting precipitate (Anye-tech homebrew chemistry) to plastic-backed graphene mesh (Japan), and wrap that around your pipe. Tap the graphene mesh for power. Finish the assembly with parasitic cooling tape (from your nanoscale fabricator) and Plasti Dip automotive wheel paint (RockAuto).

Walla! You now have in your possession a thirty-seven-centimeter-long laser core which, when powered, is capable of instantly destroying meter-thick concrete. It’s also past midnight, you’re dead tired, and you haven’t built a flying platform yet.

 

Note – Featured image by Tom Edwards, a UK cover artist.

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Space opera!

This is a teaser from what will probably be Book 6 in the Anye Legacy series. The working title is A Habit of Providence. I’m having fun, and I thought I’d share. Enjoy!

International Space Station — Earth Orbit

The International Space Station crew crowded against a viewport, taking pictures and waving, but the mission commander was inhospitable over the radio. “We’re not supposed to talk to you.”

“I don’t know what to say to that.” Elbert tossed a token into the augmented reality workspace. “Feel free to jump in.”

Pam instantiated a virtual push-to-talk widget; it felt rubbery, rough on one side, like it was really there, a surreal artifact of the universe she’d entered. “I’m Pamela Carlson, United States Army Reserve, and we’d really like to have a conversation.”

“Miss; I have the radio. Conversation over.”

Pam nudged Elbert on the shoulder, pointing out a handwritten sign taped to the inside of the viewport, saying ‘4 bars! millietheastronaut@spacecenter.de’. “It looks like you left your cell tower emulator on.”

It took ten minutes to strike an accord with the rest of the ISS crew and get on their way.

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Thought experiment …

I wrote a 9,700 word short story, a consequence of thinking ahead to Book 6 in the Anye Legacy series. It’s now making rounds at the SciFi monthly magazines for publication.

Rendezvous at the Lazy L

In 1920s South Dakota, a small-town physician learns that a local dude ranch is a destination for offworld tourists.

Black Rock, South Dakota — 1928

Francine Suraksin dallied at the gift store’s liquor display while her husband mooned over a Winchester rifle, a rite of departure he observed each season. The concessionaire — a tough-looking ex-policeman, ethnic Anye Kopin, pelt shaved so tight you could see skin — got to the point. “Buy it. You aren’t coming next year.”

That was a fact; after seven hundred years of adventure tourism along the retracement of 84 light-years previously untraveled since the Bronze Age, a time had arrived when non-humans could no longer risk dropping into the hills for calf-roping lessons, nature hikes and steak dinners. Continue reading “Thought experiment …” →

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Blurbed.

It is said that it’s a waste of time to do much in the way of marketing until one has at least 3 books to sell. Well, I now have 4 books published, so I suppose it’s time to review the essays I’ve been hoarding on my bookmarks bar. You know the ones – “How to turn your inane ramblings into a #1 Best Seller in 5 easy steps.” 

Fortuitously, Ricardo Fayet over at Reedsy sent me an email the other day – me and probably 150,000 other people, not that I’m complaining – entitled The Ultimate Guide to KDP: How to Succeed on Kindle Direct Publishing. I’ve seen this advice elsewhere – but it’s neatly organized and, as far as I can tell, all the salient points are covered.

Number 1 – Create a polished cover.

I think I have that, even though I didn’t use Paul Trif at TwinArtDesign for Silken Thread, choosing to do that one myself. I know – that’s often a mistake. Paul made 3 great covers for my Anye Legacy books and there’s no reason to think he wouldn’t do it again. Be sure and tell me if you think I’ve goofed on this one, otherwise I’ll blissfully move forward not knowing any better. Continue reading “Blurbed.” →

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Whither is thine editor?

I’ve published three novels, with a fourth on the way. The three haven’t attracted attention, but that’s to be expected since I haven’t promoted them. I will, and then we’ll find out if I did anything, but in the meantime I have to make a decision about the fourth one – shall I submit the work to an editor?

It’s a dilemma, made more compelling by a sense that Silken Thread might be the one that … what, deserves it? Needs it? I’m not sure. It has the potential to reach a wider audience than my science fiction books  – there’s an argument in favor. One never knows if an editor will bring anything constructive to the table – there’s one against.

I make the second statement under the premise that I’m not a terrible writer. If I was, any editor would do, and I suppose it’s possible my beta readers have been too kind and I am, in fact, a terrible writer. But, on the other hand, I’ve picked volumes off the shelf from major publishing houses and couldn’t get through five pages without frowning. If the traditional press is any good at what it does, how does that happen?

I know one way it happens is every book isn’t for every reader, and no editor can fix that. I also know I’ve written almost half-a-million words without recourse to the advice of any person having academic credentials to critique what I’m doing. That gives me pause.

What a joy it would be to have someone with an MFA in literature tell me I’m doing a good job. But, my experience as an applied scientist informs me that experts don’t always know what they’re talking about. $1400.00 might buy me a good report card on a non-selling book, and wouldn’t that be a kick in the pants?

There’s no call to action in this essay, folks. Silken Thread is on its sixth editing pass. I deleted a chapter this morning, having discovered that an idea I thought important early in the draft went absolutely nowhere. There’ll be a seventh pass, and then after that I’ll wring my hands about getting an editor, again. Comments welcome.

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Places I’ve been, revisited …

May, 1972 - Silken Thread dallies in a Hong Kong shop I couldn't stay away from.

David led Barbara down Nathan Road to visit The Radio People, Ltd., a legendary audiophile store not far from the hotel. “This is where I always ended up when mom and dad turned me loose.”

He was prepared to see the place transformed by the incursion of Japanese electronics, but it was much as it had been during his last visit — the sales floor dominated by custom built enclosures of walnut, teak and mahogany, McIntosh tube amps, Uher tape decks, Stanton turntables and Tandberg receivers.

The owner, Albert Chan, shooed a couple of Brits in tweed jackets out the door. “Smoke pipe outside, then come back. I have Xavier Cugat for you to listen.” He lifted his chin at David. “Hey, you got bigger. Why you hair dark now?”

They listened to Mr. Chan’s teak-clad Spectrum loudspeakers, laughably classified as ‘bookshelf’ at 40 pounds each, and a pair of Wharfedale-equipped, Danish modern burled walnut cabinets half the size of washing machines. Barbara saw the look in his eyes. “Are these the ones you’ve been mooning over since you were fourteen?”

“Ones like these. They’ll cost a fortune to ship.”

“They’re gorgeous, and you can’t buy this merchandise anywhere else. Let’s get them.”

She was enthralled by the district’s shopping corridors, channeled through buildings from street to street — stopping to purchase a London Fog raincoat, three scarves, a jade pendant, and rhinestone decorated collars for the dogs. “They’ll look so cute in these.”

David went into a shoe store, coming out empty-handed. “I’m going to stick with my Florsheims.”

They returned to the hotel at five, meeting David’s parents at the reception desk. Lieve Aarens squealed when she saw the collars. “Isn’t this the greatest town ever? Give us half an hour, and we’ll take you to dinner.”

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Something I stumbled across …

Whenever I drove past one of those all-aluminum super-modern mobile homes of the 1950s – and I’m talking about mobile homes, not Airstream travel trailers – I always wondered who made them, and what they looked like inside. While doing research for Silken Thread I discovered that some of them were built by Spartan Aircraft.

The company had a short, interesting run – you can find out more at an enthusiast’s website here. Short take-away: the hero in my story is getting a 1959 Spartan Imperial Mansion.

That’s it – just a random share today. Keep reading. We need you.

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