Sunday, 30 June 2013

What is a man's life (work) worth?

$2.99.

That's about the long and short of it. I've self-pubbed some work for a while, and this seems to be the golden price for my work.

What is a book worth? What people are willing to pay for it. Same as ever.

Simple post for a simple thought.

Love you.

x


My Neighbour Totoro: Reimagined.

Wednesday, 26 June 2013

Fighting the Good Fight

Once upon a time...

All the best stories begin with 'Once upon a time...'

Except this one. I think I want to talk about why we write, but maybe lighten my poor brain. We'll see...

So, I'm wondering, here at 5am, why we write. It's not a simple question, and, I suspect, it differs for each writer. I don't know about each writer, but I got to wondering because I remember what writing used to be like, when I first started haphazardly bashing keys.

Here's some thoughts, then. Just because, you know, I got to wondering what I'm doing all this for.

Firstly, it's a selfish need. A drive. It's something that can't be denied. If you have ideas, you get them out however you can. You draw, paint, sing...so I suppose it's about passion.

My passion, I think, comes from a few different things. Depression and mania drive me to write, often. I haven't been manic for a while. I've been low, and writing can lift that. Cathartic, but ultimately palliative.

You can't cure depression, but you can rage against it.

I've written before about the BLACK DOG. Mine's an evil bitch, but when she goes back into the pit, there's a time of stability when I'm pretty productive. But sometimes she drags me right down there with her.

So, it's about me? Of course it is. Writing is, by and large, a narcissistic calling.

I fight my illness with words. Sometimes my brand of bi-polar disorder is hungry, and I feed it with words.

But it isn't all about me. It's about fighting the good fight. Fiction can be about something larger than self, too. Mine isn't only about me, coping. It's about the fight. I think my favourite fiction is.

It's about black and white, light and dark, good and evil. It's about men and women rising up and being better than they can be, about people in adversity discovering their strength.

High falluting for genre fiction? I don't think so. We're losing luminaries in genre fiction. Bleeding out. One day, these giants will all be gone. Ray Bradbury and Richard Matheson spring to mind, but of course there are more. People die but writers leave their words, their thoughts, and their contribution to the good fight behind.

Not sure I said what I wanted to say. Just that, for me, the best fiction is about something that transcends the words that form the thought. Terry Pratchett's fiction, for example, is astonishingly humane.

I don't know if the light wins in the end everytime. I hope Iain Banks travels beyond the stars and Carl Sagan teaches compassion in heaven. I do know that when the good ones pass, they leave the world a little brighter for being here.

Love you.

x

R.I.P.


Tuesday, 18 June 2013

The Three Acts of Dying - Progress Report (beep beep beep)

I started this bugger two months ago. In normal circumstances I'd have finished by now. But things have been...mental. It's a good excuse. Honest. Involves my old noggin.

And so, this update is going old school - like the old days, when my blog was an outlet for my rambles, so it shall be today.

First up, little progress on the novel - 4K in two months, plus 4K in the last two days. Feels good to be writing again. It's a fun book to write. Thankfully, I'm comfortable with mix-and-match novels. Yes, it's horror, and yes, it's a sequel to The Love of the Dead, featuring Coleridge and Beth Willis again.

Yes, as you'd suspect, there's a few murders, ghosts, supernatural beings, chubby coppers...and a wizard.

Yep. Fuck it. I want a wizard, I'll have a wizard.

But as to why it's taken me two months to write 8K...there's the rub.

To be honest, I was halfway convinced I was going to kick the bucket at the tender age of 40...me a virgin and all.

Went to the TIA clinic, referred, the doc thinking I was having ministrokes (which isn't the same as masturbating with a small penis), or Transient Ischaemic Attacks.

Here's a picture of a mythical beast which makes a kind of short-lived appearance in The Three Acts of Dying:


Pictured: Manticore. 

Anyway, next up...it's not TIA. So, next check is MRI. Magnetic Resonance Imaging. Big tube, me, whoowhoowhoo...checking right side of my brain because, well, you know, brain tumour. 

Dramatic, eh? It's not a brain tumour, though. MRI came back normal. 

Next check is EEG. Electronencephalography. Basically, the nice people at the hospital are going to try to make me have a fit. To rule out epilepsy and migraines (there are plenty of type of both, and they can monitor each area of the brain). 

Fun times, eh?

Why all the tests? Because the left side of my body keeps going a bit dippy. Numb and rather clumsy, I suppose. 

Hence the tardiness in writing the latest novel. 

There, told you I had a good excuse. 

Love you! 

P.S. Good news is, I ain't even nearly dead, not even a little bit where it doesn't show. 

Cheers for reading!

Tuesday, 11 June 2013

Going COMMANDO!

Evening. Just a short post. I have fallen off the face of the planet...

Hang on...need a little perspective. My FB account died a death, now FB thinks I'm an impostor, posing as myself. Must be fun working for FB...seeing conspiracies lurking beneath every avatar.

I, on the other hand, am trying to curb my schizophrenic thoughts. I am me, and I'm fairly sure of it, despite FB's insistence to the contrary.

So, that's that. FB is dead, long live all the various other channels by which people communicate - speech and smoke signals spring to mind...

While in Facebook limbo-land, I've decided to crack on with being a writer. The Three Acts of Dying, my Coleridge/Willis follow-up (first featured in The Love of the Dead) is shifting well so far.

And, in other news...

Well, there really isn't that much other news. Just like to say that sometimes, you know. Pretend I'm a news reader or something.

Don't mind me. I don't exist. I've gone rogue ;)

Love you!

Craig Saunders, AKA Craig Saunders.




Friday, 7 June 2013

The Dead Boy by Craig Saunders Official Release (Dead Days #1)


Artwork by Stephen Bryant

Published by Grand Mal Press


Morning...today is the day! I've been commissioned by Grand Mal Press to write a series of hard-hitting, visceral zombie novellas. This is the first in the series. 

Please click on the links above and show what support you can. Buy it if you will, but even a 'like' for the publishers and artists can really make a difference. 

Back Cover Copy and sample are through the clicky link above, as are links to buy, if it takes your fancy. 

Thank you, and love you! :)