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Green Sunday Chapter 17 ‘Fatal Hesitation’

Hey there,

Back again for some of that theatrical writterly shit haha.

Ok right off the bat if anyone complains that I’m not crediting the cosplayer for my header image, you can just blow me because you can’t copyright ass and titties ok haha. Cosplay is cancer anyway and I fucking forgot where I got this picture from. Fuck cosplay ok haha.

So what’s new? Barreling ahead with the sequel for GS for a start, I’m almost amazed by how insane it is. Like I’m almost afraid to edit it, because it’s just like the ravings of a lunatic and I love it. I’m afraid to change it.

But in other news, signed that contract so now I’m working on the cover in tandom with Muddy Boots and we’ll have a launch date soon enough, which is cool.

I do this horrible thing where I look back on my work to try and see what it is I’ve done and right now all I have to my name is this dumb fun zombie book haha. Like all the standalone stuff is kinda ethereal at this point, it’s not there yet, it’s kinda scattered so this is really the only thing I can sink my teeth into and that sort of makes me miserable haha. But what’s good about it is it forces me to move forward in my head with the other planned series’ I have namely the Dexter homage and the weird ass fantasy series I was planning both nameless at this minute in time haha.

I think I’m ready for that, it’s weird, it’s not that I think I’m not good enough to write them, it’s like I don’t want to binge on them. I don’t want to have too much fun all at once and have nothing left at the end. I like pacing myself, writing some slock in between, like eating your vegetables before you get to desert. But I just couldn’t contain myself when it came to the sequel for GS. I was either going to rush the slock filler novella I was writing or I just had to drop it like I did and move onto a project that was more fun and just inherently immediately necessary.

This is not a job, its all passion but sometimes passions have to be measured. It’s easy to abstain, easier to binge, its hard to be balanced and think about every move you make because each step is another step closer to the grave.

Cheery motherfucker I am haha.

Anyway, wanna thank all the people signing up to my mailing list and all the people who have taken review copies and are letting me know what you think on the daily, its fantastic to hear. Mailing list will be in triple digits soon, its looking good. Love life is still in the toilet haha, but you can’t have everything all I can do is complain, its not like I’ve been looking or would even know what to do with a woman right now if I caught one haha.

Enough of that jive, got a chapter for reasons, why not? This is one of the last times this is gonna be free haha. So heres fatal hesitation, enjoy and peace out.

Fatal Hesitation

~

Pete’s fingers fidgeted, fumbling for the large knife in the decorative sheath on his hip as Dave lumbered towards him, scratching and mumbling unintelligibly.

“Itchy-scratchy…itchy.”

“This isn’t right.” Pete drew the twelve-inch blade, it seemed to take longer than he remembered “That caant said it wasn’t contagious; we’re s’posed to be immune!”

Dave stumbled forward, as if pulled at the hip by a lasso. His joints locked and released seemingly beyond his control.

“You’re alright, lad. We’ll get you looked at. Just sit down,” Pete said calmly as he slowly raised the kukri to chest height.

Dave stumbled again, then his whole body curled as if his spine were made of a Slinky. Without warning he lunged at Pete.

Pete swung, missing one beat and sinking the large knife into Dave’s shoulder. It went about six inches into meat and bone and got stuck. “FACK!” Pete screeched as he tried to push and pull the big knife out of Dave’s shoulder. Dave was unaffected; the wound didn’t even bleed, just oozed a strange, black ichor. Dave scrabbled all over Pete like an insect on its back. His fingers were all over his face and in Pete’s mouth as he pushed him to the lip of the gun store roof.

Pete reeled backwards, forcing Dave’s hand out of his face. Dave fell over him like a wave: no self-awareness, no thought, just a tidal wave of primal hunger, washing over Pete as he was swept closer to the edge of the roof.

Pete let go of the knife. He took a split second to look at the drop from the roof to the street below. It wasn’t that high. The building was just one storey; he could survive a drop. He scanned left and right, looking for something to use as a weapon. Time slowed and it took him forever just to turn his head. He looked to his left: nothing but a pile of MRE wrappers and a bed roll. To his right, his air bow. He snatched it up and locked it into his shoulder, pulling the trigger to an exasperated hissing sound.

The bolt rebounded in a dull ricochet off Dave’s jaw, leaving a ragged rip across his face. His lower jaw lost tension and fell open like a snake’s. “FACK!” Pete scrabbled for his quiver of bolts, knocking it over. Shiny black bolts spilt out all over the roof. “FAAAACCK!”

 

0

TOTCB – Chapter 5 ‘Stranger than kindness’

Bonjourno, mi amigos. Probably butchering that, how many languages was that? I dunno, fuck I’m so talented, all that multi-lingual stuff haha. Yes I’m joking, no I’m not that narcissistic, pretty close though.

Ok so what’s new?
Not much, just being doing the day job thing as of late, picked up an addiction to Gwent (Google it). May get fired for playing it at work, well that would solve that problem wouldn’t it haha.

I got some writing done after a snaffoo with some of my software. But it’s all hunky dory now and I’m away, and honestly, I’m having too much fucking fun writing this book, honestly, wtf? Why is it this fun to write this much nonsense. It’s like writing it is reading it for the first time because I have like the outline and the characters but I don’t really know how it’ll take shape other than that. I don’t know how the characters are going to interact, or what they’re going to say or how they’ll act, what they’ll do or how they’ll do it.
It’s all flowing out of me like a stream of consciousness, like I type it and there it is. Like it’s not even coming from me and its fun. I’m really enjoying how it’s taking shape, it’s like a puzzle slotting into place and the nature of the book itself is fun. It’s almost like a portmanteau movie with all these different characters, different worlds colliding.

Yeah so that’s it, just really enjoying it, can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing yet but fuck it, better than writing some miserable crap that makes me want to hang myself haha.

Remember if you want a free review copy of the first book, hit me up on twitter or facebook and if you’re on my mailing list you get a free ebook just for joining.

Peace out people.

Oh yeah also here’s a chapter of my last book that everyone seems to hate haha fucking nano, yes I am blaming you haha.

Stranger than kindness

~

On the plane Johnny seemed nervous and Peggy could tell, but she couldn’t think of any reason why he would be. To her this was the end, this was what she wanted, he was home.

She turned to him as the plane slowed to a crawl, putting her hand on his and she said “Are you ready to go home Johnny?”

Johnny didn’t react at first, as if hearing his own name was so foreign to him. He could hardly believe where he was, what he chose, there was no going back now.

He smiled and nodded.

They got off the plane and there reporters with cameras waiting for him asking him questions he didn’t answer. They just pushed past them into the arrivals lounge and they didn’t follow them.

She held his hand, he was shy and she suddenly felt a shard of ice hit her heart and she thought what it might be.

She turned to him and looked at him and he looked away.

“Johnny, are you afraid Momma’s not gonna love you anymore or something?”

He didn’t say anything, he mouthed something and furrowed his brow.

“You don’t need to worry, you’re home now. We’ve missed you, we’ve all missed you, but it’s going to be ok now, I promise”

She lead him out of the arrivals area and through passport control and to get their luggage. He didn’t have much but that one backpack and the clothes on his back.

What if there was something wrong with him? What if he’d never get better, what if the Johnny she knew was gone, never to return.

She shook off those feelings and lead him out to the parking lot.

Still he was nervous, he couldn’t stop moving. Bouncing around almost, going to the bathroom a lot and watching people and watching Peggy. He was always watching her for some reason. Trying to pick up cues from her. Like he’d forgotten how to be him and somehow watching her would help him remember who he was.

Who he was dependent on her expectation at this point.

Peggy’s husband Brandon with his camcorder. Their son Carl and daughter Sarah. Johnny and Peggy’s mother Angela had all loaded up in Carl’s Lincoln to go get Johnny and his sister.

They waited at the end of a long tiled windowless hallway. It was white with white rails along the side, slightly bluing tiles stuck on the walls. Brandon started filming as he saw people passing them by. Lots of people, young, old, fat, skinny, men and women but none of them were Peggy and Johnny.

More and more people passed, more people than seemed possible. With each passing it seemed less and less likely that they would come out. For a moment it seemed like a bad dream, they’d lost one child and sent another to find him only to lose that one too. The big bad world just swallowed them up. With each passing stranger their hearts sank.

Until finally Peggy emerged carrying her one duffel bag, she looked warn out but happy. Her hair was a messy, probably from sleeping on it. She wore a t-shirt and jeans, her face looked content like she’d just been around the world and seen all seven wonders in one shot. She saw her family waiting their huddled together. Anxious, excited, a little fear there, fear of the unknown.

They were the only ones left, the last off the plane.

~

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Resident Evil 7 review

Wassup humanoid people.

Been a while since I just ranted about some inane shit and what is more innane than videogames amirite? haha. You know I am.

I actually was leant this game by a friend of a friend so I didn’t spend money on it which probably rosies up my impression on it not having to dump the what was it like forty quid price tag on it. So rose tinted lenses all the way folks.

First impressions, it’s buggy as all dick, like the intro video is cool, the premise is a little lame; ‘Oh my gf is babysitting and she didn’t come back now I get this email and blahblahbhfgidhdfjb;l’.
I guess it’s trying to do a silent hill 2 and honestly who gives a shit, so we get there and the first scene is like a first person driving sequence which bugs the fuck out and I can’t see anything, none of the textures load, so cock slap first impression.

But as you get going, it really starts with a good footing, it hit the ground running. It’s creepy, the looks fantastic, the main character is a bit of a plank but you know you can’t have everything. What you want a creepy action packed game with a colourful set of characters and have an interesting protagonist, come on dude, what do you think this is resident evil 4 or something, fuck off with your high standards dude, this is 2017.

Right, so yeah, I like it, it’s like resident evil one crossed with resident evil 4 and pt. Got that spoopy creep factor as well as the texas chainsaw massacre feel but also that great nostalgia of the first game that the five and six sort of raped to death with Chris’s muscular arms.

Yeah I saw some other reviews and they’re right, it starts strong but it sort of gets worse towards the end, just turns into a shooter with more and more enemies and it’s kind of repetitive and ruins the game a little. But I think the beginning is strong enough to forgive that, most resident evil games sort of fluff the ending and you have to explode something with a big gun for reasons.

But all in I have to ask myself the key questions when playing any survival horror game. Was it scary? And yes, this game had genuinely creepy moments and well executed jump scares and all in all it was a creepy oppressive feel throughout with the ammo and health conservation. I think if you’re terrified of the next enemy encounter you know you’re playing a good survival horror game, not great but far better than anything we’ve seen in a long while.

I’d even argue this was better than alien isolation because it succeeded in doing what that game did without overstaying its welcome. Alien isolation was just too long, the game just dragged and dragged and the puzzles sucked and it felt artificially inflated. This game is just the right length for a survival horror game.

I think the thing I love mainly about this game is that it’s not a walking simulator. I mean I saw PT and I was like, ‘yeah that looks cool but all you do is walk around and wait to trigger stuff’. I don’t care for walking simulators because to me to be a game you need gameplay and after awhile of nothing but jump scares a walking simulator loses it’s edge.

You need more than timed jump scares and spoopy shit (See you thought that was a spelling mistake haha). Ammo and health conservation really add a level of tension that compliments the game and having combat is essential to the fear because when it comes to survival horror it’s not just about the fear itself, it’s about conquering that fear. If all you do is walk around and then something kills you, sure that’s scary the first time but after a hundred times it’s just annoying. Like I was playing Slender the arrival and it was just boring because I would walk around and then die for whatever reason and it would just load up and I’d do it again and again until I got it right and there was no suspense there, there was no drama or tension or feeling of loss. I mean games like dark souls add tension purely by the fact that if you die at this moment you lose all the xp you amassed. So the tension comes from having to do all that grind again.

So checkpoints and limited saves and item conservation are key elements in a formula for building tension that walking simulators just forego for spoopy jumpscares and camera shake.

Another thing I have to salute this game for is boss fights. Those are what resident evil is famous for, epic boss fights and these were some of the best boss fights I’ve had in a while and funnily enough I just got around to playing that overwhelming disappointment of a game mgsv. Which is another series with epic boss fights, the boss fights in that game were terrible so to see resident evil come out swinging with the boss fights is fantastic. I was actually shitting myself in the greenhouse boss fight running around collecting ammo and herbs to try and fight her. It was really intense. It reminded me of a first person version of the barn boss fight in resident evil 4 but more tense and creepy just because of the darkness and first person perspective.

Overall I really enjoyed it, can’t recommend it enough. It’s not the best survival horror game ever and it’s not as good as it could have been but it’s a step in the right direction for resident evil and hopefully if it does really well resident evil 8 will be even better.

All I can say is welcome to the family resident evil 7, arguably the 4th best resident evil game haha.

resident-evil-7-family.jpg

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GREEN SUNDAY Chapter 16 ‘Kill Too Hard’

Hello again my dedicated stalkers, all the handful of you haha.

Back again with more of that good literary shit.
Had a few people take me up on the review copy shenanigans since yesterday, gonna keep rolling out that train today with some shameless spamming.

Oh yeah almost forgot, got an update on the cover, realising now as I’m writing this and remembering it in real time I’m going to make it the header image to this very blog haha. So now that you’ve looked up at the image you undoubtedly clicked to get you on this page, pray tell what do you think. That’s real art folks, not some copy pasted clip art shit done on photoshop, that’s real paint with real brush strokes from a genuine artist. Original artwork paid for by yours truly haha.
I think it’s turned out really great, sort of cartoony but it captures the grindhouse feel I wanted, getting hyped about launch now and not so much feeling the crushing doubt that’s been gripping me for the past couple of weeks in which I’ve sworn never to do nano again haha.
Why you ask? Because it, yes not me, ruined what could have been a career affirming life changing book for me. After getting completely shit on for The one that came back in the reviews the consensus seems to be it’s kind of boring and I blame myself for rushing it to fit into the nano time frame. Or in other words I blame nano haha.
But joking aside, I’m just gonna have to shell out of the nose to have it properly content edited, I’m sure its salveagable, it’s just gonna take a lot of time/money/effort, things I seem to have in great abundance these days for whatever reason (pact with cthulhu).

Ok moving on, still giving away free e-copies of my novella which wasn’t rushed and is really fucking good btw haha. And I’m still giving out review copies of Green Sunday, so get some of those and if you join my mailing list and let me know you want a review copy you will be getting two free ebooks for only the price of your soul and maybe a toe. A small toe.

If you want a review copy just message me on twitter  or facebook or minds through my contact page.

Ok here’s chapter 16 ‘Kill Too Hard‘ for your reviewing pleasure haha.

See you space gender non-conforming squid people.

~

On a ratty-looking desk, an old-fashioned touch-tone phone rang.

The small, messy office filled with the tinny analogue ringing sound.

Mojang clung to the grenade launcher, the wooden sawn-off stock poking his ribs. He ducked behind the desk, taking the small phone with him.

He took the receiver out of the cradle with a plastic clicking sound. He pressed it to his greasy-looking ear.

“Hey, boss!” A cheery voice chirped.

“Bernie, you double crossing pinche puto!”

“Come on, it’s not just me.”

“What are you talking about, you fat, lousy fuck?” Mojang spat into the receiver.

“It’s the fans, man.”

“The fans?”

“They’re bored, Mo. We’re winning too much. We make it look easy. There’s no drama, no suspense. Long story short, they’re replacing you.”

“What the fuck? With who?”

“Ahem.”

“You? Your fat ass is replacing me? No way! Put me through to the top guy. There’s no way they can do this. This is our last game. We’re out. We’re clean. They promised- “

“Sorry, Mo, this comes from the top. Our approval ratings are tanking. They thought they needed to shake things up.”

“No, you motherfucker, you put him on no- “

Click.

The phone went dead. Mojang bit down on the receiver. Snapping it in half over the desk, he threw the rest of the phone to the floor.

He cracked open the grenade launcher and saw there was a hot grenade still in the chamber. He clapped it closed and stiffened his lip. “Fffuck!” He threw the heavy grenade launcher across the desk and hurried over to the window. Barred, it was covered in a heavy mesh, impossible to remove. There was no way he was getting out. He clanged the cage mesh, looking like a kid in a playpen. His face welled up with sweat and nervous tears. “FUCK ME! FUCK ME!”

A clatter outside hushed him. He ducked behind his desk again. He scrabbled for the grenade launcher on the desk.

“No, please, no. I’ll suck dick. I’ll suck your dick,” a muffled woman’s voice said from behind his door. An angry banging. “FUCK, MOJANG! LET ME IN, YOU LIMP DICK MOTHERFUCKER!”

The noise quickly stopped after a brief gurgling sound. An ominous silence fell on the garage, not a croak or a death rattle to be heard. All the blood was already on the floor.

Then a dull banging noise started against the thin door, accompanied by stifled whimpering noises. The noises got quieter as the dull banging got wetter. Each bang was accompanied by sloppy slapping noises.

The pathetic bolt lock popped off. The screws popped out and rolled on the concrete floor. The door swung open on just one hinge.

Mojang peeked over the desk and saw the doorway was empty. The flimsy door itself was plastered in blood and brain matter and there was a big crack down the centre. Strands of long hair stuck out of it.

Mojang recoiled as a mass was slung hard across the desk, like a deer hitting the hood of an SUV. His face was splattered with blood and brains. The girl’s limp limbs twisted in every direction. Her head had caved in. Using it to open a door would do that.

Mojang winced. He used the barrel of the grenade launcher to turn her face around, and his other hand to move her hair aside. Her eyes were half open; they rolled loosely around in her head like dolls’ eyes. He swallowed and closed them, feeling bad for a minute before he remembered he had locked her out.

The lancer stepped inside. His feet made a metal stiletto sound. They were covered in skin -tight metal sandals. On the concrete floor, they sounded like tap shoes or a dog with long nails on a hardwood floor.

“We can talk about this. I’ve brought in a lot of business. We’re the best. We win. We can do better. Fuck, man, we can do whatever you want. I’ll learn to fucking juggle if that’s what you wa- “

“Sorry, you’re cancelled,” the lancer said, a cold chill riding his words all the way down Mojang’s spine.

Mojang fingered the grenade launcher, with its wood inlays, as he looked at the girl sprawled across his desk like a tiger skin rug.

He took a deep breath and scrunched up his face, ringing out vicious tears from his one good eye.

“Fffuck you, silver surfing faggot!” He lifted the grenade launcher and turned his body so he was pointing it at the lancer, with one arm outstretched. His face twisted into his death mask: what would be left of it.

The lancer let out a breathy laugh and gave a wicked smile with those strange eyes. He dropped into a pounce and closed the gap between them with murderous intention.

Mojang fell back, his heart leaping to meet the challenge. He stumbled over a broken phone cord. His finger squeezed the trigger and he proceeded to make an even stupider face.

The building popped open like a giant soda can. The sheet metal peeled back and curled up, licked by flames. The explosion was viewed by an indifferent drone flying overhead, the flames reflected in its ambivalent lens.

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FREE review copies GREEN SUNDAY

Howdy folks, it’s come time for me to ask you, my meagre audience to give something back in the form of words and time, of course not money, who could have a use for any of that junk right? We’ve all converted to photosynthesis at this point or died a paupers death buried an inch deep in potter’s field.

Just looking for some launch day reviews, that’s all, not your souls, not your first born child, I mean I’ll take them, I won’t be rude, I don’t really know what I’ll do with them but I won’t stop you.

Just waiting on the cover to be finalized and we should be launching the book next month, gonna be on a few podcasts in the mean time just to shoot the shit and verbally shill.

Oh and good news, I got bored last week and I was sick of writing that story about the serial killer art contest in a panopticon, it was kinda just dragging me down. I needed to write something light and fun so I started writing book of Green Sunday and it’s cheered my up already. It’s just so much fun to write, it’s like a break from all the shit of the world just to write something this fucking fun and crazy, it’s liberating.

Anyway as usual gonna post just a quick excerpt from an edited chapter for reasons and you can look at that and I’ll provide links to it on inkitt so you can read it in full there but shit if you want to get a free pdf copy all you need to do is message me and I’ll fucking send you one for free so you don’t have to bother with this inkitt shit.

Hit me up on twitter or minds @CallMeRyk if you want a copy.

 

5

TOTCB Chapter 4 ‘Brother my Cup is Empty’

Sup people,

Ok so news news news, the cover is almost done as you can see in the last post. Been really busy just spamming the free ebook which is cool, the subs to my mailing list are growing slowly but surely. Got a few podcast appearances lined up so hopefully that’ll help get me more subs/clicks/happythoughts.

I was thinking of giving away some early review copies of Green Sunday so I can have some reviews on release day, not sure how I’ll go about that.

I’m gonna be wrapping up what I was writing recently and I think it’s time to barrel ahead with book two of GS. Seeing some advice online, it seems best to get cracking on the series, strike while the iron is hot and keeping going til I run out of steam and then hopscotch to another series. Which is great news for me, because I kept giving myself excuses why it wasn’t right to start all the while chomping at the bit to do exactly that.

The free ebook is ready and it’ll be virtually shipping at the end of the month, what else?
No I think that’s it, oh no yeah, still going ahead with The one that came back as a standalone. Series’ apparently make more money but I still want to get traditionally published for a standalone title. I’m not ready as of yet to religate myself to permanent indie author status.

In the words of the immutable Kanye West; “You reach for the stars, if you fall you land on a cloud”. Or something like that.

Anyway here’s the next chapter , you can find it on inkitt of course with this link. Probably having this edited soon too before I start pitching it.

Brother my cup is empty

~

It was early, downtown Austin was quiet and heating up slow.

A red dodge pick up pulled up outside an irish pub on 204 east sixth street. The sign on the side was a picture of two merry Irishmen leaning on eachother and it read ‘The Gingerman’.

It was a grand old building. Three stories tall with a couple of red birch trees sticking out of the sidewalk out front. White stone in long columns that looked like it came straight off of mount Olympus. Tall brown doors. The floors above were apartments with tall thin windows that made for high ceilings but not a lot else. It was penned in by an Italian restaurant called ‘Gino’s’ on the right and some kind of science centre for kids on the left. A weird place to put it since almost the entire strip was just littered with dives and billiard halls.

Porter parked deliberately too close to a red striped mini cooper that was parked outside. He got out and went inside.

He passed over the tiled entrance. Passing framed adverts for Paddy’s irish whiskey and Cork Distilleries. Harkening back to some grand irish renaissance in the fifties, or something like that. It was kitch and it made him sick. He stopped to put his keys back in his pocket. He lifted his eyes to the Notre Dame sign with the fighting irish leprechaun. It was facing out hanging from an antique cabinet Patrick had decided to put right in the entrance for some reason. He shook his head and went into the pub proper.

The smell of dried cork and wood soaked in whiskey hit him as soon as he got inside. Real wood, real old wood. It was a classic irish pub with all that comes with that. Small round wooden tables with small round wooden stools that were as uncomfortable as they looked dotted very little floor space.

There were some square tables in the corner which had chairs with backs and cushions for when this place pretended to be a restaurant. Which usually involved Patrick grilling something that was once alive.

The walls were a warm orange and of course were covered with classic Guinness adverts and memorabilia of all sorts. Anything vaguely irish, leprachauns and whiskey were a key theme. There was space for one Texas flag that just had a silhouette of a steers head on it and the word ‘Texas’.

There were old black and white portraits of irish writers and musicians. There were shelves decorated with little kitch porcelain figures and old clocks. Dusty books, violins, ships anchors and mini ship wheels.

The bar was long and mahogany and was so shiney it almost glowed in the texas morning cast off. It curved around and went down almost the entire length of the bar but was sectioned off into little mini bars catering to different drinks. It was all tiled around the first foot out from the bar, the rest of the floor was wood, the same colour as the bar. Porter took a seat on the end at the elbow of the bar and grazed the bar with his eyes. Passing over more Guinness signs. A four leaf clover drawn on a chalk board with their specials until he reached the flat screen tv that hung at a jaunty angle on the corner of the bar.

It was a snooker game.

“Top’o the mornin’ to yah, what can I do’ya fer? A man with strawberry blond hair entered the corner of his eye as he tried to follow the snooker.

“Any calls?”

~

0

New cover sketches for Green Sunday.

Hola mi amigos.

Thanks again to the new subs, just finishing up the proof read of LCYE and it will be on it’s way to you by the end of the month guaranteed (Cos I already finished the proofread and turned it into a pdf but I’m holding out for even more subs on my mailing list haha). Trust me it’ll be worth the wait.

Really excited this week because I already got back some of the revised sketches for the GS cover (which will be posted below) and paid the first half of the money and as soon as that is done I’ll launch that SOB, for money this time haha. See how that works out. Then it’s faffing about with more marketing, maybe go on some podcasts and stuff, that should be fun, take it to a kids book reading haha. Traumatize the little shits.

Ok well enough of that.

16558384_1336829376374687_2112261670_n

I’ll leave which one I chose a surprise for now haha.

If you wanna check out the artist, maybe throw some shekels at him or send him some nudes (no seriously he needs models), shoot on over to Pagdon.

See you spacecowpeople…

0

After Shattered By Samantha Newburg

(Yes I’m too lazy to look for an actual header image so instead have given you all my gratuitous dick pic haha)

Ok so, at this the point the obligatory claus here is that I’m not the intended audience, I can’t really say what the intended audience of this would be. Probably woman, can’t say much more than that other than I would never choose to read this from the description or genre. I dont go near romance and I won’t touch drama unless it has ‘crime’ in front of it. So that’s just to tell you where I’m at with this and I’ll try to be as objective as possible.
As a first chapter goes, it’s boring, no two ways about it. I don’t know if any of the stuff in the first chapter is relevant to the story overall but it’s just tiresome exposition with some dialogue and a meeting in it. Nothing interesting happens unless hearing you have a new boss is some great revelation to you. You have to put the interesting stuff in the first chapter to force people to read the next chapter and if that’s the most interesting stuff to happen in this book then god help you.
This stuff might be all really relevent but it should be relegated to the second or third chapter not the first, you get one chance to make a first impression and my eyes glazed over with boredom. There’s way too much spoonfeeding, show don’t tell.
The story isn’t established in the first chapter, so I can’t say there is one, the characters are watered down, no one person really stands out. The dialogue is ok, but the first chapter just sort of ends.
I can’t tell if this is intentionally boring to justify what happens next in the book like american psycho or if this is just the bottom line throughout. I’m not going to know because I can’t read the rest of the book, I can only give you my first impressions of what I see.
I don’t know what to say other than it reads more like a diary than a novel and no one wants to read your diary except you (unless you’re a psyborg stripper from mars with machine gun for tits haha).
I don’t think it’s trash, it’s salvageably, just needs maybe some chopping and changing, revamping the first chapter to get a hook in the reader from the start. The rest of the book could be pure genius but no one is going to read past that first chapter unless you give them a reason to.

If you wanna check out the story for yourself you can by following this link.

After Shattered

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LCYE Chapter 13 ‘Confinement’

Just gonna be a quick update because I’m up to my neck in stage hand work right now for this grand show I put on for you kind people.

Again another shout out to my new subs on my mailing list, thank you very much for paying attention to this fucking train wreck haha.
I’m really busy, I got the edit back for LCYE and I’m just proofreading it again and making the changes as well still spamming for more subs haha. But it’s coming together. I just wanted to go over it with a fine tooth comb to make sure it’s at it’s best when I convert it into a pdf/epub and send it to you lovely people.

As far as my writing is going, it’s going haha. I’m writing something a little sillier as a break. I was trying this new diet which I had to rework because I felt like a zombie and it put a kink in my weight lifting but it’s all good now. I thought I had writers block but it turned out I was just dying haha.

I dunno, this novella I’m working on is a little wet, just wanted to keep myself busy til I’m psyched up enough for GS two, or something new. It’s just not jelling as well, it’s a blast from the past, it’s sort of silly and stilted and doesn’t really represent the growth and the scope of my newer work.

But enough of me rambling incoherently.

Here’s chapter 13 of LCYE that is being proofread and will be in the inbox of hopefully everyone reading this blog within the month.

Without further ado here is Confinement

~

He fell into consciousness wide eyed and drenched in sweat. His breathe burning in his chest. He strained against plastic ties which bound his arms to the black metal struts of what seemed to be a weightlifting bench.

Was it a room?

It smelled dank, rotting wood and coppery smells of rust. It was too dark to tell.

He was lying in what felt like a dentist’s chair, his arms held down at his sides. He was restrained not only at the wrists but it felt like all the way up his arms and his legs. He had zero mobility in any of his limbs. His head equally was held in place by what felt like plastic wrap, wound tightly around his forehead. It was sticky and forming a lot of sweat but none of which allowed him any more mobility.

He felt powerless, his heart beat out of his chest for what felt like an hour of blackness and panic. Finally, when he’d given up hope of his limbs proving useful for escape he faded into despair. Taking deep breathes getting gradually shallower and more quiet until he heard someone else breathing.

A generator sprang into life, humming and coughing behind his head. A bright unshaded bulb was born cutting through the thick dark dank of what he now knew was a boxcar probably deep in the railyard. In a place no one could hear them.

An unseen scratching, and then music started to play.

“How much is that doggie in the window (arf, arf)

The one with the waggley tail”

As the record was started, James felt a sharp tugging and a shifting in his seat. A feeling of falling as the hydraulics in the chair dropped him lower and then bolted him almost upright. Instantly he was made aware of what he was supposed to see.

In front of him were two rows of something obscured by a tan hide tarp. They were spaced out as if they were seats on a train and behind them there was something hanging on the wall. Something that looked like an animal.

He heard breathing getting closer to his ear and then a voice he thought he knew.

“James, it’s good to see you. Are you resting comfortably?”

~

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