Adam Christopher
  • ebooks
  • August23rd

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    Some new fiction for you this week – my horror flash-fiction short story, The Nightmare of You and Death in the Room is out today in Hub magazine #126. Please take a look and I welcome feedback – I’ve already had some interesting interpretations of it on Twitter!

    It’s old news now, but Amazon opened the UK Kindle store on 5th August. Prior to this, you could buy Kindle ebooks from Amazon.com, but due to the addition of VAT and other mysterious charges, prices were often a little high. My voodoo steampunk novella, The Devil in Chains, for example was set at a price of 99 cents (the minimum, as you can’t give away free Kindle books), but UK customers had to pay something rather more (I think it was between $4 and $5, although I don’t remember).

    The UK Kindle store is good news, then, and you can grab The Devil in Chains for just 72p. I’ve tried it out on the iPad’s Kindle app, and I have to say it looks pretty gosh-darned cool. I’d be interested to see it on an actual Kindle – hopefully I’ll be able to hijack one down at FantasyCon in September and take a look. I must admit the new Kindle, in smexy graphite grey, looks pretty cool and the price is terrific (£109 for the WiFi model, £149 for the WiFi + free 3G model)… but it’s a mono-functional eink device. Hmm. I carry too much stuff as it is.

    As well as being “in print” this week, you can marvel at my mumbling half-New Zealand, half-British accent over at WordPunk. A couple of weeks ago I was a guest host on their Genre, Movies and TV, and Tech and Gadgets episodes, all of which are now online and available at their website or via iTunes. I had a great time on the show and my thanks to Del, Simon and James for having me on!

    Right, back to the editing!

  • June1st

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    I try to keep this blog writing-related, but here’s a brief interlude.

    Last Thursday I went to see one of my favourite bands, Quasi, play Manchester’s Deaf Institute. It was nothing short of amazing – tiny venue with perfect sound, small crowd, good support band (I know, I’m still in shock). One of the benefits of being a fan of small indie bands who play small venues is the opportunity to actually meet them. All three members of Quasi were either chatting in the audience beforehand, or manning their t-shirt stand, and when they came off stage I grabbed a moment to chat to Janet, the drummer, who also plays with Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks, and was one third of Sleater-Kinney.

    Anyway, there were a lot of photographers there, and by chance someone captured a pic of me and guitarist/singer Sam Coomes, which I’m pretty chuffed with. Hint, I’m not playing guitar:

    The entire set by kezontour can be seen on Flickr.

    Unfortunately I haven’t been able to find any video of the show, although there are some good recordings on You Tube from earlier in the same tour. Here’s one from Chicago:

    In other news, slightly more writing-related, I’ve got my iPad. It’s absolutely beautiful. I may only have had it since Thursday (it was delivered a day before the official UK launch too), but every day it still surprises me. It is slightly smaller than I thought it would be, but is very comfortable to use. I’ve already been reading comics and eBooks on it, and I have to say, I’m now a total convert to digital reading. iBooks is a terrific e-reader.

    It’s not all about passive consumption of content though. I’ve done some beta-reading and critiquing (with notes) in Pages, and I’ve started Corkulous planning boards for Ludmila, My Love and The Gospel of the Godless Stars. When I can figure out how to take screenshots, I’ll post some up.

  • May26th

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    You might have guessed I’m something of a gadget freak. Well, that’s not quite right. I don’t collect gear or spend hours reading Engadget. However, I am a fan of tech that makes my life easier. I’ve talked about the iPad before – and I’m literally counting the hours until my very own 64GB WiFi model arrives this Friday – and I’m a proponent of all things digital, be it music, or films and TV, or books.

    This week I was a guest of Angry Robot books, and I took the opportunity to make a case for switching from print books to ebooks. I’ve had numerous interesting comments about this via Twitter, and my writing pal Jennifer Williams has posted a response on her own blog. I hope you’ll take the time to read both my take and hers, and join the debate!

    Writing wise, I’m finally – FINALLY – back on track with Ludmila, My Love. At 2,000 words a day, I should be done in about three weeks, which means I can let that one ferment in the draw and get straight into The Gospel of the Godless Stars, the horror Western I’m co-writing with Kate Sherrod.

    This is my first collaboration, but so far I’ve been pleasantly surprised at the process. We’re currently working out the plot and synopsis, and have been swapping and expanding scene chronologies back and forth. I must admit, I was nervous at the start of all this – having spent a few days nutting out some plot points, what if Kate hated them? What if Kate’s sections completely turned my precious ideas upside down and inside out?

    But of course, it’s not my story. Nor is it her story. It’s our story. We both realise and understand this, and actually it results in a much freer creative experience. Kate even wrote a short prologue at the same time as I was working on mine – and having seen hers, it’s not only a terrific piece of writing, it actually leads almost directly into my own. I suspect this project will go well.

    With all this writing work on, one thing that will hopefully keep the pressure up is the brand new Manchester SpecFic Writing Group, which met for the first time a couple of weeks ago at the MadLab in central Manchester. All are welcome, and our next meeting is June 2nd, where we will hopefully have some critiques to give out. I just need to give the first chapter of Empire State another going over before I drop it into our shared folder.

    Nervous? You bet. We’re using Turkey City rules. But I’m hoping it’s going to be a valuable experience. I’ll keep you posted.

  • February12th

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    The end of book ‘fidget’

    Turns out that I’m not alone when I say I’ve got the “end of book fidget”. It’s that feeling you get when you’re within sight of the end, with a big climax to write, but your brain is on the next book.

    The next book is new, fresh, and exciting. It has a killer title. The plot is out of this world. This is the book you’ll be known for. You want to start writing it now.

    The old book is old, dull, stale. You know the story and the character inside out, you can’t wait for the hero to save the day so everyone can go home. You know the book needs a gosh-darned thrashing at the second draft to solve a couple of plot problems and iron out some character kinks. You’ve been living with this book for a couple of months, or more. You’re tired.

    One of the fascinating things I’ve discovered about writing is that a writer will think that their experience is unique, that the thoughts they have and the emotion changes they go through during the course of writing are brand new, and (usually) completely wrong. The universe is trying to tell you that you aren’t a writer and you shouldn’t be trying. Your story is lame, the characters weak and two-dimensional. The plot is terrible, the prose itself is the most god-awful tripe ever put to paper. If you could just stop right now and try the next book, everything would turn out fine and writing would be less like sweating bullets.

    Except Neil Gaiman gets this feeling. He said so. Michael Stackpole gets this feeling. He said so too. Most writers do, from late night amateurs honing their craft to seasoned pros with lengthy bestseller back catalogues. And then when one writer talks to another writer to tell them about the terrible time they’re having, they’re shocked to discover that the other guy feels exactly the same way.

    Okay, I exaggerate. Writing is fun, and it can be easy, and it’s something I have to do. It’s not continual torture, and more often than not, the plot and characterisation work just fine. If they didn’t, I’d be in trouble.

    But there are moments like the above, scattered all throughout the writing process. And at this point, as Empire State hits 95,000 out of a projected 100,000, I get the end of book fidget. And despite me knowing all the above about how every writer goes through the same thing at key points, I was still surprised to discover writer friends who knew exactly what I was talking about, or who were stuck in the exact same situation as me.

    Fortunately, the solution is pretty easy. Ignore the fidget, sit down and finish the book. I suspect there are an awful lot of almost-finished novels in the world because the writer hasn’t realised that the end of book fidget is just a normal part of the process. And there are an awful lot of half-finished and quarter-finished novels in the world because the writer has succumbed to one of those other feelings of inadequacy at some point.

    You gotta keep on truckin’! Empire State will be done in a few days. Then Ludmila, My Love, can take centre stage.

    The iPad

    It’s been three weeks now since Apple introduced the iPad. The interweb is full of speculation and opinion, so I’ll leave you to Google for it if you haven’t been keeping track of the commentary. My last post, which was far, far too long ago, talked about the things I wanted from the device. Did it deliver? Yes, on every count – function, portability, and importantly, price. UK pricing has not been announced yet, but Macworld have done a pretty good estimate. Even the most expensive model, the 64GB 3G version, only comes in at a hair under £700. For me, that’s worth every penny for a good-sized, capable internet device and e-reader.

  • January26th

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    Tommorow, Steve Jobs will walk on stage at the Yerba Buena Center for the Arts in San Francisco, and unveil Apple’s latest creation, as their media invite calls it. Unless you’ve been on retreat on Phobos, you’ll know what I’m talking about. The Apple tablet. I’m hoping it won’t be called the iSlate (= ‘is late’), or the iPad (= some digital female sanitary product), but whatever the label, this device will change the publishing world.

    Don’t believe me? Hmm. I’ve had a lot of people tell me that they don’t see how a tablet is anything special, or how it could revolutionise publishing. It’s not like we don’t have all the requisite technology anyway, and the Apple ‘is late’ tag is apt given that there are a lot of tablet computers out there, and a lot of ebook readers out there. Some are successful, some are not. More are coming.

    So big deal. Who needs an oversized iPod touch, right?

    I think there’s a misunderstanding here. It’s not that this is going to be a whole new form of computing, with new innovations in technology and hardware. It’s the way that Apple will take pre-existing ideas and technology and combine them, creating a characteristic Apple user interface and wrapping it in their award-winning industrial design to create something new.

    Before the iPod was released, there were loads of mp3 players available. But the iPod had a new interface and a new design, and it caught on. Likewise the iPhone. There are hundreds, thousands of smartphones available. But the iPhone, for a lot of people, has the best UI and design.

    With less than a day to go, here’s my list of things I want the Apple tablet to be and to do. This isn’t a pro-Apple rant. It’s not an anti-not-Apple rant either. These are just things I want to be able to do with an Apple tablet. Some of this should be announced tomorrow. Some of it will take a while – years, maybe – to come to fruition. But the tablet is the first step.

    I want to wake up to new content

    With an always-on wifi or 3G connection, I want all of my magazine subscriptions auto-synched while I sleep. On Wednesday morning, I wake up, check my emails, and have this week’s pull-list of comics from DC and Dynamite. On Thursday morning, I wake up, check my emails, and have this week’s Radio Times. Every four weeks the new issue of Fortean Times arrives. Same for newspapers, if I read them. They’d arrive every morning.

    But there’s more than just replacing magazine print subscriptions with electronic ones. If the tablet can deliver an exemplary reading experience, I want to subscribe to publishing houses. For an annual fee, I’ll take everything from Angry Robot Books, thanks very much, delivered to my tablet on release. If you’re a Warhammer fan, how about a sub to the Black Library? Any publisher – a major house, a small press, a nice imprint – can start delivering content directly and, importantly, in bulk. There’s not a single title from Angry Robot that hasn’t been an excellent read, and I’ll happily take the rest of their output on spec. For larger houses like Pyr – likewise an excellent genre imprint – a full subscription would probably result in a phone call from my bank manager, but what about a random sub? Three books each month? Or how about all new titles released by your three favourite authors? I imagine it would be the same for fans of a particular romance publisher, or crime publisher, or whatever publisher.

    There’s no manual control needed, if I choose. My subs are delivered, on time, regularly, without the vagaries of the postal service. With the full-colour, almost full-size screen, I can read all of my magazines at my leisure. I don’t need to receive paper copies of anything ever again. With good eReader software, I can become a patron of a publisher or author at the tap of a button.

    I want to use it everywhere

    I travel a lot, and the dilemma of book selection for a plane journey is one that should be familiar to a lot of people. If you leave tomorrow and there are still 50 pages to go, do you take that, knowing that you’ll have it finished quickly and will have to lug a redundant brick of paper around for the rest of your trip? Or do you pick a new book? Or if you’re a fast reader, do you take two, or three? Pretty soon you’ve filled your hand luggage and most likely your overstuffed suitcase for the return.

    For travel I now take my iPod touch. Using Stanza, or any one of a number of stand-alone eBook providers, I can take hundreds of books with me everywhere. Reading off the screen is no issue, as most readers have a variety of options to improve the experience, such as white text on a black background, and variable text size. Sure, it takes a bit of getting used to, but it’s not a problem.

    If the screen was bigger, it would be better. If I could approximate the real size of a trade paperback page, I’d probably read a lot more eBooks. This is what the Kindle, the Sony Reader, the Nook, et al, aim to achieve – more or less real-life dimensions of a print book, and with their eInk screens, an easy reading experience.

    But more important than the odd plane trip, I want to use it everywhere, every day. I don’t want to lug my laptop to bed. I don’t want to flip open a netbook on the couch, no matter how petite it is. I don’t want to sit at my desktop computer for hours reading comics or books. And, perhaps most importantly for me, I don’t want to battle with the internet on my tiny iPod touch. If I’m watching TV and I want to look something up on the internet, I want to pick up the tablet from the coffee table and do it. No laptop, no keyboard, no tiny iPod touch screen that requires constant pinching and scrolling. The iPod touch and iPhone are fine for tools like Twitter or Facebook, because the interface of apps for these are designed for the small screen. But the full-blown internet experience in Safari isn’t.

    eInk doesn’t matter

    And this is why I don’t want a Kindle or other eInk-based device. They’re fine for straight text. They’d also be fine for newspaper content. But full-colour, glossy magazines? Nope. Browsing the web? Nope. Playing games? Nope. Checking emails maybe, but integrating with Twitter, Facebook? Nope. The Kindle and its ilk are single-use devices, and the eInk screen is no good for anything by reading text anyway.

    Except here’s the thing: it’s not even needed for that. As I said, I read a lot of text off my iPod touch, with its glass-fronted, full-colour LCD panel. Glare has never been a problem. Reflection has never been a problem. Eyestrain has never been a problem. Okay, it has a small screen, and these issues would be increased with a 10″ display, but really, I’m happy to accept these potential issues for full-colour, full-motion electronic content. I don’t need eInk.

    I want to be able to afford it

    The tablet might be expensive. The 64GB iPod touch is $399 + tax. Apple’s base Macbook is $999. The tablet must fall somewhere into this gap – it can’t be cheaper, or the same price, as the touch for a significant larger device unless they cut the price of the touch. It can’t be more expensive than the Macbook or they’ll be in for criticism, and the Macbook is a more powerful computer anyway. The tablet isn’t a computer replacement, it’s a whole different device.

    The problem is that people are too used to paying $200 for a hunk o’ junk netbook, or $500 for an under-specced, under-powered laptop. Good tech costs, although the “Apple premium” is actually a myth if you compare like-for-like. Apple simply don’t do low-end devices, they do mid- to high-end.

    It’s also no use comparing it to the Kindle, or the Nook, or the Sony Reader. The Kindle is $259 (or $489 for the Kindle DX), but these are single-use devices. I know that Amazon have opened the Kindle to app developers now, but there really isn’t much you can do with that eInk screen.

    The current rumour is that the tablet will be $1000 stand-alone, or $399-$499 with a 3G contract. Some sources claim the $1000 is way off. Perhaps that’ll be another surprise for tomorrow!

    Can Apple deliver?

    Will the tablet deliver on any of this? Technology-wise, certainly. There’s nothing new here, we have the know-how and hardware. Apple’s design – which includes software and hardware combined – will be second-to-none. All of this is possible. It might be expensive, at least to start with.

    What will be harder to changing the mindset of content providers and gatekeepers, to get them to embrace this digital vision. The technology is there, we just need the will. Unfortunately, some will fight this vision tooth and claw, whether it is out of self-preservation, stubbornness, or lack of understanding.

    So that’s what I want (the tablet, not the fighting!). What we’ll get tomorrow might match my requirements very well; then again, they might not. Come back on Thursday and we’ll see how my checklist squares up with the real deal.

    But what do you want from a tablet? Will the tablet change the world, or will it flop like the G4 Cube or the Newton? If you don’t want an Apple tablet, what do you want?

    Comments are open!

  • August16th

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    The Devil in Chains

    Following the excellent example of fellow writer of the dark and scary Jennifer Williams, I’ve tweaked and reformatted The Devil in Chains, my steampunk novella and prequel to Dark Heart, and am pleased to announce an improved PDF version, as well as formats for other devices such as ePub, etc. You can get these on Smashwords, which has the advantage of an online catalogue accessible directly from Stanza on the iPhone and iPod touch. Stanza is completely free, and I highly recommend it as an eReader application.

    Additionally, the definitive PDF version can be downloaded here. This version differs slightly in format to the Smashwords version, as the latter required some special tweaks to get the text working in ePub format. I’d recommend this as the best version, with Smashwords useful for reading on the move.

    Formatting for different eBook formats is fun but fiddly – please feel free to report any bugs, problems, mistakes or issues to me, and I’ll fix them as I can.

    The Devil in Chains is also available as an eBook for the iPhone/iPod touch at the iTunes app store.

  • August13th

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    It’s Thursday, that time of the week that (like Arthur Dent) I could never get the hang of, so I’ll keep it brief. I’ll even itemise things.

    The Devil in Chains
    Somebody added my 2008 novella to Good Reads (although apparently it doesn’t recognise the cover), and even reviewed it! I’m rather flattered, and quite frankly to have someone tell me that in one scene,

    An ordinary exploration of an empty room suddenly becomes an exercise in exquisite grotesquerie.

    … makes me all sorts of happy inside.

    What also makes my head spin is a review in the form of a Shakespearean sonnet. This goes beyond flattery and into the surreal realms of honour. I think a w00t is called for. Thanks to Kate for her devotion to the cause!

    Speaking of The Devil in Chains, I need to get cracking on reformatting the PDF properly for the Sony eBook reader. This website will also undergo a bit of a redesign when Seven Wonders is done, which will make it easier to keep track of projects and also easier for people to find stuff to read. For the moment, you can grab The Devil in Chains here as a PDF, or here as an eBook for the iPhone/iPod touch.

    Seven Wonders
    The book that never ends! Actually that sounds a bit harsh. The draft of this superhero novel is at about 95,000 words, and I’m slowly in-filling the middle bit. I’m giving myself to the end of August for this, and I think I’m on track. It’s actually a lot of fun writing about Tony and Jeannie and Sam and Joe and SMART, as not only do I know what happens to them at the end, I’ve already written it. Going back in time a few weeks and seeing what they were up to before everything went wrong is really interesting as a writer.

    Master project list
    Something else for the website is a proper tracker of projects, but I’ve yet to find the right funky progress bar widget. However, having discovered the wonder of VoodooPad (basically your own personal off-line wiki), I’ve started transferring dozens of separate documents of notes and ideas into one repository, which means I’ve also created a master index of novels, plotting out a sort of schedule well into 2010 and beyond. VoodooPad is a work of genius, and now joins Scrivener on my list of essential writing tools.

    Which means nothing until I actually show you guys something, but it did surprise me (pleasantly, I should add), that I’ve got no fewer than 11 novels planned so far. Which is good, because to make it as a writer you need, firstly, to keep writing and writing and writing, and then when hopefully something is picked up, if you want to make a living out of it you have to be working on the next book, and then the next, and then the next.

    So a list of 11 books is easy. It’s just a list and a few notes for each. Ideas are cheap and the imagination is limitless. Sitting down and writing is hard, but at least I know where I am aiming.

  • June19th

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    I know I promised some info on Crescent Rising this week, but we’re actually busy rebuilding things as our secret planning site for that collaborative fiction universe got hacked and/or taken offline. Hopefully the database will be retrieveable, but in the meantime it’s about time I updated a couple of links.

    Superheroes!
    Last month I attended the Bristol Comic Expo, which featured DC Comics Senior Executive Editor Dan DiDio as guest of honour. They’ve dropped off the main site now, but I wrote three reports for major US comic site Comic Book Resources. Snag them here:

    The DC Universe – Story plans and upcoming titles and events for 2009-2010.
    DC Nation – The first and only time a DC Nation has been hosted outside the US. Great discussion and feedback session.
    Gibbins & Higgins Talk Watchmen – including CG genitalia.

    Steampunk!
    A couple of weeks ago I was invited to write an essay on steampunk, and why I chose to write in this slightly unusual genre, for Babbling About Books, the website of New York-based blogger Kate Garrabrant. Kate split my rather long essay into three chunks (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3), but I’m going to reproduce it here in full. I’ve also added in some extra detail about the various subdivisions of steampunk, which I had glossed over in the main piece and then went into when prompted by some reader comments on Kate’s blog.

    I’ll put this on its own page, but in the meantime, sit back with your favourite brand of absinthe and afix your Gentlemen Reading Goggles at setting four!

    Top Hats and Hellfire – The mystique of Steampunk

    1. “So, what are you writing about?”

    Cue the big grin, the far-away look, the deep breath the preceeds five minutes of non-stop exposition. Hand-waving optional but recommended. Because you’ve just asked a writer their favourite question.

    Well, most writers, anyway. For Those Guys it’s easy. “Oh yeah, Jack is a cop, and he’s about to retire when his young niece goes missing…”, or “Well, it’s about a princess called Missy who lives in magic castle…”. Those Guys, they have it so easy. Ten minutes later, your eager audience is delighted and expresses good luck and best wishes for the project. If they’re related to you in some way, most likely an elderly aunt that you don’t really know that well, then expect excited promises to buy the book when (if!) it comes out.

    But then there’s us. We’re not anything special, we’re just average Joe writers working hard at our craft, just like Those Guys. Thing is, to answer the question “So, what are you writing about?”, we need more than five minutes and a wistful gaze. This expedition needs provisions. Tea, coffee, cake. Anything with sugar or stimulants. Then that deep breath (we have the same requirement for oxygen as Those Guys), and we’re off.

    “So, when Babbage designed his difference engine… you know Babbage? And the difference engine? Like a big clockwork computer. No, not 1972, 1822. No, I don’t know how it works either. Okay, so let’s skip that… so then Byron, riding a steam-powered brass horse, becomes Prime Minister… the poet, Byron? Yes, steam-powered. Like a robot. Star Wars? Erm, not quite. Steam-powered, yes. Okay, so going back a bit, you know the industrial revolution…?”

    This goes on for some time. Eventually you’ve laid the foundation, explained the world, and you’re fairly sure Great Aunt Nelly has remembered that Faraday is a time-travelling action hero, even if she doesn’t quite know that he really discovered electromagnetism in the mid-19th century. And then you get the seal of approval: “Well, good luck with the writing! I can’t wait to buy it in a bookstore!”. My advice at this point is to just smile and drink your tea. It doesn’t matter that you haven’t actually got to the story yet, the bit you’re actually writing. Get used it. As a writer of steampunk, incomprehension and potted histories of Victorian railway engineering go with the territory like gaslight and brass goggles.

    2. What is steampunk?

    I should preface this by saying I’m not an expert on steampunk. Steampunk is a vast, complex subcultural phenomenon that spans literature, fashion, philosophy, comic books. And while I go misty eyed over the thought of top-hatted Victorian explorers travelling to the moon in coal-fired brass rocket, or Sherlock Holmes packing a clockwork raygun as he battles the Giant Rat of Sumatra, I’m not particularly interested in wearing Edwardian frockcoats over brass breastplates decorated with clock gears. True enough, I’m probably slightly too interested in the facial hair of King George V as is normally considered healthy, but I’m not a “steampunk”, if such a thing even exists or is an appropriate label. See, I really don’t know. Steampunk as a fashion statement and as a way of life is, I think, a related but somewhat distinct movement from steampunk as a science fiction/fantasy subgenre.

    Responsibilty disclaimed. So, what is steampunk?

    Steampunk itself can be broaded divided into two different sorts – ‘period’ steampunk, and ‘modern’ steampunk.

    Period steampunk is set, usually, during the height of the Victorian era. Top hats and canes, gaslight and London fog, moustachioed adventurers unwrapping mummies in the British museum. Every kind of Victorian pulp cliché and imagery, with added supertechnology. And by supertechnology, I mean technology which more or less resembles the correct period, but is floating away into the realms of fantasy. Steam-powered robots, clockwork rayguns, giant calculating machines that think. All related to the fundamentals of the late Industrial Revolution – namely steam power. Period steampunk is a vision of that period of industrial revolution accelerated, advancing science and technology to fantastical reaches, allowing the Victorians to colonise Mars in coal-fired rockets, or the monarchy overthrown by a clockwork computer. These are just examples. It could also be something much better. /futurama

    ‘Modern’ steampunk, by contrast, is set in the present day or the future, and postulates that the steam tech of the 19th century never went away, that the 20th century developments of electricity and electronics never happened. Instead, we get a charactiture of Victorian life in the present day – people still wear top hats, gentlemen discuss matters of great import in their exclusive clubs, and detectives chase cut-throats through the gaslit streets. But computers are clockwork, intercontinental travel is via supersonic steam-powered zeppilin, and a night at the movies is brought to you by Mebberson’s Magic Lantern, That Wondrous and Fully Patented All-Purpose Aetheric Transference Visiscope to Delight and Thrill All-Ages.

    Both are alternative versions of our Earth. One is about a superadvanced Victorian age, exploring how the wonderfully inventive and eclectic society of the 19th century would use such fantasic technology. The other is about modern or future age which, despite disappearing into a steam-powered technological dead end, has flourished, using steam and coal for outrageous and decidedly modern achievements.

    However, to build up a more accurate picture of the possibilities of steampunk, I need to expand on this rather cut and dried definition, because, obviously, you can have steampunk elements in a book which isn’t steampunk, and likewise you can have a steampunk book that is nothing to do with Victorians and the Industrial Revolution.

    For the first example, I’m currently reading Lamentation, by Ken Scholes, which is a rather good high fantasy novel. Except it includes steam-powered robots called mechanoservitors, which are programmed by engraved metal scrolls.

    Does this make Lamentation a steampunk novel? No, I’d certainly be happy calling it high fantasy. But it’s a steampunk element – ie, a steam-powered, out-of-place piece of supertechnology.

    The second example is something like Stephen Hunt’s Jackelian series, starting with The Court of the Air and following with The Kingdom Beyond The Waves and most recently The Rise of the Iron Moon. The world of his novels is Victorian-esque, and mixes magic and steampunk (complete with airships!) very effectively, but it’s not set in England, or even on the Earth, unless it is in parallel universe several times removed. Later books do hint at it being modern steampunk, but set in the far, far future after some calamity, but I don’t want to give anything away!

    Interestingly, Stephen’s first novel, For the Crown and the Dragon, is actually a very good example of real period steampunk, where the Napoleonic wars of the early 19th century are fought with wizardry and steam-powered supertechnology.

    So, back to that that difficult question “So, what are you writing?”. While steampunk is growing in popularity, it’s still a fairly specialised subgenre, and unlike mainstream fiction or even science ficton and fantasy, it relies heavily on context and historical knowledge. Sure, it’s pulpy, that’s part of the charm, but it’s also literate and intelligent to a degree that perhaps other genres aren’t. For example, in my own steampunk novel, Dark Heart (modern steampunk, I should add), you really need to know that in our universe, Prince Albert died in 1861, not Queen Victoria. Once you realise that he’s still around in 2009 while Queen Victoria succumbed to typhoid in his place 148 years ago, you can start to see how real history can be adapted, twisted, and rewritten to present a new, alternate reality of brass and leather and steam.

    3. What’s the appeal?

    Ah, to ask the unanswerable. Why do some people like olives, and why do some people like Westerns. I suspect most fans of steampunk, the literary genre at least, feel nostalgic for an imaginary Golden Age that waxed and waned 150 years before their birth. An age where everything had it’s place, where formal headwear was required when out of doors, where men could smoke cigars and stroke their waxed moustaches (their own, I imagine, although I’m sure mutual beard-stroking is a niche market) and women could be frightfully brave and adventurous and yet still look hot in a bustle.

    But clearly to be a fan of such a bizarre genre isn’t as strange as all that. Alan Moore, the greatest comic writer there has ever been, has gathered a huge following with the decidedly steampunk League of Extraordinary Gentlemen and super-gravitational science hero Tom Strong. Northern Lights – aka The Golden Compass – features airships and clockwork magic. Steampunk is in now like it never has been before. Of course, steampunk existed even in the Victorian age itself – Jules Verne and HG Wells, with their Captain Nemos and First Men in the Moon, were not only the first writers of science fiction, they were also the finest proponents of genuinely period steampunk.

    And let’s face it, a man really should never be without a hat while outdoors. It’s just not seemly.

    4. Writing steampunk

    And here, dear reader, I must admit to a frank truth that may, if administered without due preparation and preface, be prone to cause such surprise and shock that certain jointed extremeities may with sudden impulse become quite weak, necessitating an immediate adoption of the reclined position and the furious fanning of whatever Popular Magazines may lie close to hand, preferably with the able skill of a personal friend.

    Because, friend, writing steampunk is a damn good lark.

    It’s not easy. If you want to sink right into the world, you pretty much need to hunker down in front of your keyboard and pretend you’re Sir Aurther Conan Doyle. You need to get the style, the wordage, of an era and style long since passed. If you can crack it without throwing your computer off the nearest convenient balcony, it’s a hoot.

    Fun it may be, exhausting it most certainly is. My first official foray into steampunk was a novella, something like 26,000 words, called The Devil in Chains. I wrote it for the web zine Pantechnicon, and it was split into two parts and published in 2008-2009, and it’s also available as an eBook for the iPhone/iPod touch.

    To give a practical demonstration of the difficulty in describing steampunk to an unknowing audience, here’s the blurb I finally came up with. This is approximately the 34th draft, give or take.

    December 14th, 1861. Queen Victoria dies from typhoid fever. A distraught Prince Albert instigates a coup and takes direct control of the Empire. A patron of science, he steers the path of progress down a dark and dangerous road, antagonizing the forces of magic and the occult as he strives to bring his queen back from the other side. As the 21st century dawns, the world is trapped in a Victorian caricature, industry powered by sun and steam. And nearly 150 years since the death of his wife, Albert still fights to bring her back, his lifespan unnaturally extended with steam power and black arts.

    When journalist Jackson Clarke is sent to the Isle of Man to investigate the tale of a talking animal, he unwittingly steps into a battle between mankind and an ancient evil imprisoned beneath the peaceful island. Charged with treason and cut off from the mainland, can Clarke defeat the Devil in Chains?

    Gripping stuff, I hope you’ll agree. I actually wrote it almost as a trial run for my first steampunk novel, Dark Heart, which features the two main characters introduced in The Devil in Chains, now in partnership many years later as part of an occult-detective agency. In Dark Heart, the agency is sent by the British government to investigate a poltergeist outbreak in the West African jungle, where they uncover a buried voodoo god and a zombie army. Meanwhile, an explosion rips through the heart of London and a steam-powered serial killer stalks the streets.

    Oh yeah, and an airship crashes into the dome of St Paul’s Cathedral.

    See? Steampunk is fun! The pulpiness of it is part of the appeal, letting you play with clichés and familiar tropes, welding them together to form something quite, quite wonderful. Despite what appears to be a fairly rigid form, in many ways steampunk actually allows far more creative freedom that regular space-faring science fiction or even fantasy – the more outrageous the steampunk scenario, the more fun it is hammering in to the pseudo-Victorian framework. One of my current projects is a collaborative fictional universe, Cresent Rising, set in a single location, the mythical city of Fell Hold, and as part of that I’m writing a steampunk story set in an early period of the city’s history. The title started as a joke – Captain Carson and the Case of the Robot Zombie – but then I realised it was actually perfect. Fitting a plot around it was hard work, but immensely satisfying once all the pieces had been slotted together. And this is an example of that other-worldly steampunk – it’s not Victorian England, although it might be a parallel universe several times removed.

    5. The future of steampunk

    What’s next? Well, for me, getting that draft of Dark Heart ready to pitch to an agent, while plotting Captain Carson’s adventures in Fell Hold City. In the meantime, I’m writing a superhero novel called Seven Wonders – more as a break from the rigours of first-person Victoriana – but when that’s done, it’s on to Dark Heart II. And then III, and then IV. And then… well, you get the picture.

    The popularity of steampunk and it’s various subcategories – Deiselpunk, Oilpunk, NeoEdwardian – is likely to come and go, just as with any genre. You must never write just to fit a trend, because by the time your book is out the trend will be long dead. But for fans and enthusiasts of brass and leather and steam and robots and airships and rockets and, well, anything that the extraordinary and unique Victorians could never had built in their wildest imaginings, there are fog-shrouded cities to explore, robotic murders to solve, and Venusian landscapes to visit with hot-air balloons. All with tophat and cane and a stiff upper lip.

    And brass goggles. Don’t forget the goggles.

  • June10th

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    With the release of the next major update to the iPhone/iPod touch operating system, iPhone OS 3.0, just under two weeks away, everyone who has content available via the iTunes app store needs to provide a ratings summary for Apple, as OS 3.0 allows parental control of audio, video and application content using a ratings system.

    Which means for me, and other authors with fiction available for sale as an eBook app, we have to complete a ratings sheet for each story.

    Which is, I have to say, far more fun than it really should be. Okay, at the moment I only have one eBook available – my steampunk novella, The Devil in Chains - and I’m sure the novelty wears off after you’ve rated your seventh title, but just for today I can scratch my head and try to figure out which of Apple’s rating categories applies to my story, and which don’t.

    For the official record, here’s the checklist:

    Cartoon or fantasy violence – infrequent/mild. I suppose getting shot in the back with a rifle that fires solar plasma is classed as fantasy violence. Likewise the airship attack on the voodoo dopplegangers, and later the zombie siege on the farmhouse, are inherently unrealistic events. But they’re not the crux of the story and they’re not particularly graphic or described in visceral detail.

    Realistic violence – none. See above. Nobody is shot with a normal gun, and the story is decidedly lacking in swift uppercuts. Note to self: add more punching in the next story.

    Sexual content or nudity – none. Dang, I think I’ve missed a trick. Jackson Clarke never unbuttons his top collar, and Bellamy’s hot sister Zoe (me-ow!) doesn’t make her first appearance until the novel-length sequel, Dark Heart.

    Profanity or Crude Humor – none. I don’t think Clarke’s favourite expression, “Good lord”, counts for much in these cynical times. Alas!

    Alcohol, Tobacco, or Drug Use or References – infrequent/mild. Cigars and cigarillos ahoy! Steampunk wouldn’t be the same without someone sucking on an exotic blend, if you’ll pardon the expression. The Devil in Chains even stars a meerschaum pipe. I’m quite pleased with that.

    Mature/Suggestive Themes – none. I’m assuming this is related to sexual content, as the body horror and possession elements of the story are certainly mature but covered by the category after next.

    Simulated Gambling – none. I must remember to add a rollercoaster game of contract bridge to the next eBook, and develop and accompanying steampunk cardgame app to go with it, just so I can check something in this category.

    Horror/fear Themes – frequent/intense. Here we go! The Devil in Chains is fantasy steampunk horror, dealing as it does with an ancient god and bodily possession, shadowy dopplegangers and buried evil. If it’s not frequent/intense horror/fear, it’s not The Devil in Chains! Hmm, I sense a catchphrase coming on…

    Prolonged graphic or sadistic realistic violence – none. Oh my. Even the category title raises an eyebrow. When you add this to the next category…

    Graphic sexual content and nudity – none. … you get the feeling this is like those custom’s forms which ask “Have you ever been a member of the Nazi government of Germany?” or “Do you plan to orchestrate and carry out terrorist acts while in the United States?” that are designed, presumably, to catch exceedingly dim villains when they fly in from their underground lairs. Given that Apple’s terms and conditions forbid the pornographic, obscene and offensive, I suspect that if you tick anything in these categories your iTunes content will be subjected to the digital equivalent of an airport cavity search.

    I don’t know what the ratings system on the store looks like once Apple flicks the switch, but I can now rest happily that the voodoo steampunk adventures of Dr Clarke and Alexander Bellamy are now officially certified as being rather scary.

  • April6th

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    These people, these old people of London looked up to other gods though, Aggie. Gods with names and horns.

    The 19th century is one that holds intense fascination for me – Victorian England (well, mostly Victorian London, let’s be honest) is a bizzare world. On the one side, full of invention, innovation, science, progress, exploration and expansion of the empire. Learned gents in top hats and tails unwrapping mummies at the British Museum. Courageous men hacking at jungles with machettes and discovering lost worlds. The age of iron and steam.

    And from a different side, an age of hopeless poverty and appalling slums; virtual slavery in mills and factories. The age of Jack the Ripper, of murder by gaslight, of strange doings in the fog.

    Needless to say, it’s this mix of the wonderful and the horrid that makes the Victorian period endlessly interesting and, for writers like me, an infinite source of plot and setting for fiction. Add in some coal-fired science fiction and you have steampunk.

    As a fan of the darker side of Victorian life, I was very pleased to see a short, sharp tale by fellow author and friend Jennifer Williams appear alongside part two of my steampunk novella, The Devil in Chains, in the latest issue of Pantechnicon. London Stone. tells the story of a girl born into the seedy underbelly of the 19th century city, as she progresses from pickpocket to prostitute, and the terrible act she must commit on the London Stone to secure a future for her sickly child. But there is a price to pay, in blood…

    London Stone is a tightly written short story, lean and precise, evoking splendly the dark, desperate plight of Aggie. The stone itself – a relic, perhaps an altar, left behind millenia ago by long-dead society – brings to mind the infinitely ancient source of the haunting in Nigel Kneale’s superlative 1972 television play, The Stone Tape, with a hint of Lovecraft’s Great Old Ones and the unspeakable rites of their insane tribal worshippers thrown in for good measure.

    Fans of Grim Victoriana, the ‘weird tale’, and horror should check it out – London Stone can be found online for free as part of Pantechnicon #9. Author Jennifer Williams has her blog here, and can be found on Twitter as sennydreadful.