September 2013: The Recruiters

THE RECRUITERS
(The theme for September was Humour, and the element was Outer Space.)

recruiters

‘I’m afraid it’s out of the question.’  The Daolan looked apologetically around the four men facing him.

Admiral Hansen leaned forward. ‘Because we’re from Earth?’

The yellow-skinned alien hesitated, then inclined his head. Humans have met many strange variations among the intelligent space-travelling races, but Daolans, acknowledged as the finest navigators of all, are odder than most, with a gelatinous body shape that can change at will. The Daolan had braced himself into a sitting position with four pudgy tentacles, and used two more to make gestures. The upper part of his sac-like body was fringed with silky follicles, which moved of their own accord as though sniffing the air.

Admiral Hansen looked round at the others, then back. ‘Gorman, we brought you here at some expense for this interview, you must have known we would be asking you to join our crew. I’ll be frank—we were really excited that you agreed to meet us at all, so this is a great disappointment. I accept you won’t take the job. I would like you to explain why, because yours is not the only race keeping their distance. ‘

Gorman shrugged, his follicles rippling, but answered honestly. ‘Earth people have already accrued a reputation for a certain, uh, oddity. I wanted to meet you, because I didn’t believe it could be as disturbing as I’d heard, but . . . you say things that don’t make sense, then look at each other and pull faces. Sometimes you even make odd noises. It is—unsettling. Each voyage lasts at least twenty epochs; I think in your calendar that translates to a year. To be unsettled for that long would be deeply distressing, so I have to say no.’

‘He means joking and laughing!’ Smith realized.’ I once tried to tell a Gannan a pub joke, changing it to a Gannan, a Doonong  and a human entered a bar—he looked at me as though I was deficient.’

‘What, you guys don’t laugh? So a pompous, very dignified Daolan slips on a banana peel—okay, okay, forget banana peel, slips—and is suddenly on his back with his legs waving in the air—you don’t laugh?’ Jackman smirked and looked round for support.

The Daolan looked disgusted, all his nostrils pinching. ‘I’m afraid you just made my point.’

Hansen shook his head at Jackman, annoyed. ‘So, your children—do they play? How do you know when they are enjoying themselves?’

‘They jiggle, and their follicles vibrate. Sometimes their tentacle ends change colour.’

‘And does that disgust you?’ Hansen persisted.

‘Of course not.’

‘But it would be unsettling to anyone who wasn’t a Daolan.’

‘Yes—which is why our young put aside such things when they are of an age to meet other races, at least in public. It is something entirely private.’

‘Well, our smiling and laughing is the equivalent of your jiggling and vibrating. Does that help?’

The Daolan pondered, then nodded. The admiral scrawled quickly on a piece of paper and handed it over. ‘Would you at least look at our offer?’

The Daolan took it delicately in a tentacle and read in silence. Then to their astonishment he started to shudder, and the follicles on his upper body started to vibrate.  The tentacle holding the paper turned blue, then purple, and the admiral grinned fiercely.

‘Oops,’ he remarked, ‘I gave you the wrong paper. Here’s the real offer. I think you’re going to fit in just fine.’

 

Christmas Kindle – the gift of a portable library

kindle bookmark

 

I loved this tweet when I saw it and hope Rossetti Rogers will forgive me for borrowing it here, but it is oh so relevant to this post.

A very successful blogger with a huge readership invited independently-published authors to toot their books on his blog today for the Christmas market. His website may yet collapse, I think I darted in at number 285.

If you want to know who and where, ask. I find it very odd that I have more readers all the time, yet you drift silently in, read (often more than one entry) and then drift away. Yes, you. What for you do that, you doan wanna talk, eh? Eh? Am I scary?  

The older I get the more prone I am to these little conversational detours.

Anyway, I pitched quite the persuasive spiel, all the while knowing the chances of anyone making it down to #285 without having spent their entire Christmas budget were slim to non-existent. Maybe, I thought, I should be pitching my spiel, not on a passenger liner, but in my own tiny canoe. And maybe you, the silent passers-by, will be struck by the logic and force of my argument and I’ll rack up a sale or two. Well, I might have, if I hadn’t already aggressively italicized you away.

But here’s the pitch. (If WordPress font permits, in big loopy letters.) (nope, WordPress preferred to stay understated. Bold and italics yes, Algerian 24 no.)

This entry is for those of you buying a Kindle for a slightly older relative who has never had one before. You KNOW you’ll have to download the first book for them, because they’ll never do it themselves and there’s a real chance your lovely gift will end up being a coaster otherwise. But what to download?

What you need is a cozy whodunit, clean as a whistle, perfect for the armchair detective, novella length (making it easy-read AND affordable) and the first in a series so they’ll be motivated to go looking for the next. One reader, converted. Oddly enough many of my readers are in their forties, even thirties, but the books work all the way up to ninety plus, have a look, you’ll see why. You’ll thank me.

One Two Buckle My Shoe

Of course if they’ve ever done any website dating for senior singles, you’ll want to download the newest one in the series instead, because that’s all about our heroine diving into the deep end of the dating pool, the end where the predators lurk, and it’s proving the best seller so far: Seems we’ve all done some website dating.

I even quoted one of my 5 star reviews, trying to make it sound as though there were hundreds and I had picked one at random. That’s salesmanship. I hope that’s how it comes across, anyway.

Five Six Pick Up Sticks

 

5 star review on Amazon.com from Scottiedog “I enjoyed both the earlier books, they’re fun to read and neatly solved. I like the characters and the retirement village setting, and there’s always a twist I miss, even though by this book I was watching closely for clues because they’re so obvious in retrospect! This book is slightly different in that Edge is put squarely and deliberately in the firing line and even though she’s a main character and I know she won’t be killed off (right?) I was reading faster and faster as the end approached. I think it’s the best so far- fun and exciting”

We may never know. But I’d kick myself for not even trying. And the point remains, getting a Kindle is lovely but, er, what next? You’re a lovely generous person for giving it, but you have to follow through.

Happy to help.

 

 

Coffee – Cake And Crime Event – With E J Lamprey

There’s been a murder, how great is that for a blog title? And it’s a grand blog, Lynsey really knows her stuff!

theresbeenamurder's avatarTHERE'S BEEN A MURDER

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Life may not begin at (nearly) sixty but it certainly takes some unexpected turns for golden girls Vivian and Edge, fellow residents at the Grasshopper Lawns Retirement Village in Scotland, after the murder of an unpopular resident. Edge’s niece is a sergeant in the small local police force, so they are not only kept up to date, they start picking up clues that no-one is passing on to the police.

The murder sparks off a lively investigation, friendships with bon vivant William (a vast and charming SF writer) and sardonic new neighbour Donald, and will be enjoyed by armchair detectives everywhere.

This is the first in a cosy whodunit series set in the beautiful Firth of Forth area just north of Edinburgh.

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In One Two Buckle My Shoe the engaging Edge and Vivian solved a flurry of murders at Grasshopper Lawns with their new friends Donald and William, but life…

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On hats and age and future reviews, (and shoes and ships and sealing wax etc. Okay, not them).

I read a quote a while back that wholly resonated.  I don’t recall the exact wording but the essential message was ‘Inside every old person there’s a puzzled kid wondering what the heck happened’

Maybe your internal and external ages are still in synch. I hate being asked my age, and I really hate being asked for a photograph, because both classify me instantly as OLD. And I’m not, not on a good day, honestly truly cross-my-heart. I’ve put a few years on the clock, true enough, and not that many more will have me on eBay looking for good purple hats; I like being the age I am; but I hate the automatic label that goes with it. So when I was asked for a photograph for an author interview I rebelled andE J Lamprey sent a composite. Which was such fun that I shall dig out some of my older photos and make a few more.

Anyway, that’s just the morning’s mutter. I recently joined the Alliance of Independent Authors, (which is the best move I’ve made since I joined this crazy world with the publication of my first book in January) and that will lead to a slight change in focus on this blog.

As all writers reading this already know, Amazon is decidedly beady-eyed about authors reviewing each other, and there’s no denying it could lead to abuses because the world seems to be filled with people determined to foul up ideal situations. ALLi have a private group on Goodreads and has just floated a new discussion re members reading and honestly reviewing each other’s books on Goodreads. The suggestion was also mooted that we add reviews to our blogs (those who aren’t already doing it) so just as soon as I’ve worked out how to do (well, archive) that effectively, you can expect a few reviews to start appearing here.  Many of the members are already very successful (and alarmingly talented) and I am really looking forward to my reading (two books already heading my way).

And last update on the progress of printing my first book, I changed the cover yet again (now it is beautiful, no?) and it is once again back in review. Fingers crossed.

1 2 Createspace preview

Nothing succeeds like excess. (May include flesh-eating aliens)

I heard about NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) for the first time last year. This year I tried it. So did 302 THOUSAND others.  Writing 50K words, for the NANO 2013-Winner-Square-Buttonsake of writing 50K words, was an odd experience, but I knocked out the basics of my 4th whodunit in the process and feel obscurely uneasy about writing my first ever potboiler. When I had written my quota I went to the relevant forum on NaNoWriMo to record it. I was – surprised – to see how many books had met that target on the first day of November. One day, to write 50K words.  Gosh, those must be good books.

It got me thinking about how we overdo, well, everything. Every good idea becomes a fad, then the norm, and then excessive. Doing something the original traditional elitist way – oh, take the above example, pouring heart and soul into a book over months and even years, polishing it lovingly, and finally, after setbacks and rejections and re-writes, getting it published – becomes the exception to the rule.

I’m as guilty as anyone, no mistake. No finger pointing here. But it did start me thinking about what defines excess.  In my childhood, best beloved, as a family we sent and received up to thirty Christmas cards, because we were at the other end of the world to most of the large and scattered clan, and if you couldn’t spend family time together, you at least wanted to be in touch. Last year, I received I don’t remember how many, but over a hundred, most from people I didn’t know. Quite interesting, mind you.  Fancy Mary’s husband being called Urgen, and who would have guessed she had daughters called Bliss and Supreme?

typistWhen does more become too much?  Christmas cards, how many is too many? Will I make eight – no, nine – cards by hand, write long chatty letters and enclose photographs?  Unfollow all the people on Twitter who interest me not at all and hope that my favourite few will do the same and we can go back to the fun chats we had a few years ago, you remember, when getting a 50th follower was genuinely exciting ? Reduce my Facebook to people that I know?  Grow my own vegetables, go fishing, set snares, slaughter my own livestock, or even just cook every meal from scratch instead of a few times a week? Ask my daughter to reconsider planning children because there are too many people already? Delete my own books and start a campaign for everyone to delete theirs? Er, no.

Instead, my predictions for the future.

Christmas card scanners will become the next gimmick, and people will scan and email their card(s) to everyone they know. The cards received will play in a constant loop across your choice of computer screen, TV screen, or a viewer mounted next to the holographic Christmas tree. There will be several hundred of them. Really expensive holographic cards will project3D images of family waving and smiling, and the youngest members of said families playing in the snow or on the beach (delete as applicable) / performing on musical instruments / singing or telling jokes.

A new social media called Chatter will allow you to select the categories in which you have an interest, and will automatically join you to everyone else in that category. This will instantly give everyone several million interest-sharing friends.

GM food patties of high nutritious content, available in nine exciting flavours and four distinct colours, will be delivered to every household on a weekly basis. Luxury foods will be available, at a huge price, from select outlets. They will inevitably be dried, frozen, pickled, preserved or tinned (canned). Youngsters reading old books will feel slightly queasy reading descriptions of raw food, while their parents will feel a momentary pang of nostalgia. Those who insist on keeping hens, or growing their own fruit or vegetables, will be considered slightly alarming eccentrics, and newspapers will run frequent stories on how many of them die of salmonella or eColi poisoning.

Books, magazines and newspapers will no longer be printed at all and readers will be encouraged to hand in the books on their shelves for recycling. All electronic books will be assigned to categories, where accredited reference books, including school books, have the highest rating.  The lowest category of books will be the cheapest and largest, but books that earn above a set amount will move to a higher and more expensive category. Readers have to complete a detailed registration form and will then be offered a selection, starting with the most expensive, in their favourite genre. They will be expected to complete a response before they can buy the next; (a) could they finish the book just taken, (b) was it fit for purpose, (c) was it correctly categorized, (d) would they recommend it. Their answers will shift the books up or further down the popularity lists.

Many more people will be born. In about twenty years time flesh-eating aliens will start gathering hungrily around the planet.  People with money or connections will be concealed for the duration of the emergency, with a good supply of GM patties and dried, pickled, preserved and tinned food. When they emerge there will be a few million at most, and their health will be permanently affected. It will take a thousand years for the human race to recover, along with new religions and new political structures, possibly overlapping.

There could be a book in this. last straw

Five Six Pick up Sticks, a murder mystery by E J Lamprey

Yay, the third book has been accepted. This is a great way to read sample chapters 🙂

malcolmturner2013's avatarFirst Chapters

five six final

 

Buy from Amazon

 

Website dating for the over-fifties is definitely a boom industry, but for some it has been a dead end, and the Scottish police want to know why. Sergeant Kirsty Cameron’s aunt Edge is the right age to become the bait in their investigation, and even has some recent murder-solving experience on her CV, making her the perfect candidate. 

The third whodunit in the Grasshopper Lawns series dives gleefully into the murkiest end of the senior singles dating pool (where the predators lurk) with Edge secretly hoping to meet someone special. It’s spring, and it seems the rest of the world is in love, is there someone out there for her? Preferably not the murderer, of course. 

The murders of the recent past were solved with her friends Vivian, Donald and William, but this investigation is so covert, not even they can know why she is suddenly so keen…

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