Not by anything in my own little world. At the moment- knock on wood (not you, Chris)- things are pretty good in Simonland.
On the other hand, the world outside...
Remember the guy who died of a heart attack at the G20 demo last week? Well, it would appear that he died after being hit and shoved over by a police officer. No provocation, far as anyone can tell. Just in the wrong place, at the wrong time.
I dare say some would say tough shit on him for getting involved with the demo. Funny, really, as the right to protest is supposedly one of the things that makes Britain so great. (Or so the drooling, brainwashed fuckwits still mindlessly braying that the Iraq war was a good idea keep telling us. It's just, like, totally unpatriotic to make use of it unless it's to agree with the government.)
But that misses the point anyway, because Ian Tomlinson wasn't even part of the demo. He was a newspaper seller. Just doing his job.
And what's the betting that the officers responsible get clean away with it?
Quite frankly, I wouldn't bet a used bottle top against that outcome. After all, the police in London can blow an innocent man's head off his shoulders, and the coroner will tell the jury that they cannot return a verdict of unlawful killing. Just ask Jean Charles de Menezes. Oh, no, you can't. He's dead. He'd done nothing wrong. But a group of armed cops acting more like an El Salvadorean death squad than Dixon of Dock Green pinned him down and put seven rounds in his head. And it's apparently nobody's fault.
Still, why should that surprise? Our ex-Prime Minister, Tony Blair, is a war criminal. No ifs, buts or maybes apply. He lied about weapons of mass destruction in Iraq, lied about Iraqi links to 9/11- lied and lied some more so that he'd get his dirty little war. Funnily enough, before his resignation, the Sainted Tony was claiming that the Nuremberg Trials were no longer relevant. Well, after all, they not only set precedents about the rights of refugees (and where would the Right be if they couldn't blame the immigrants and asylum seekers for everything wrong with the country?) They set another precedent Blair has much more cause to worry about.
The Nazi leaders weren't just indicted and convicted for crimes against humanity. They were indicted and convicted for crimes against peace as well. That is, for planning and waging an aggressive war.
That is, when you attack another country without provocation. Like, say, when they have oil supplies you want to get your hands on. You dress it up with fancy justifications, claim it's really about self-defence, but anyone with more brain cells than a newt with a hangover knowns the truth.
Tony Blair planned and waged an aggressive war. Loathsome though Saddam Hussein and his regime were, they weren't the aggressors in that scenario. And you'd have to be pretty deluded to claim that the majority of Iraqis are better off now.
Let's not mince words (I haven't so far.) Tony Blair, and every MP who voted for this illegal and disgusting war, is a war criminal, and every goddamn one of the lying, murdering bastards deserves an appointment with a lamp-post and twenty feet of rope PDQ.
Will they get what they deserve?
Sure they will.
Oink, flap, oink, flap. (So says the pig who just flew past my window.)
Was there a point to this?
Yeah. There was.
You can know something intellectually. But knowing it emotionally is a different matter. And sometimes you have to learn it all over again. And again.
What did I learn today?
That there's one rule for the rich and powerful, and another rule for the rest of us. Total bastards control our countries and commit atrocious crimes, and they get clean away with it. And then they have the sheer fucking nerve to say that people don't respect the law.
Tuesday, 7 April 2009
Monday, 6 April 2009
Awards, Awards, Awards...
Sorry, chaps and chapesses- more shameless self-promotion awaits!
Two of my pieces- The Narrows and The School House- have been nominated for the British Fantasy Awards for Best Novella.
Very, very happy about this of course.
For anyone wanting to save money, We Fade To Grey is available as a free PDF download here until such time as voting closes. So if you want to read The Narrows, you know where to click. I'll see if I can sort out something similar for The School House.
Next post needs to be a) sooner, and b) about something other than giving my ego an outing. Hm. Better get my thinking cap on.
Two of my pieces- The Narrows and The School House- have been nominated for the British Fantasy Awards for Best Novella.
Very, very happy about this of course.
For anyone wanting to save money, We Fade To Grey is available as a free PDF download here until such time as voting closes. So if you want to read The Narrows, you know where to click. I'll see if I can sort out something similar for The School House.
Next post needs to be a) sooner, and b) about something other than giving my ego an outing. Hm. Better get my thinking cap on.
Friday, 13 March 2009
More Nice Things, And Some Shameless Self-Promotion
Just as I start getting interested in the world outside my front door again, there's more work- a back-jacket blurb for my story collection, plus pitches for radio plays to be produced at Dark Smile Productions' board meeting on Sunday (go check them out, you blog readers!) And soon I'll be having to put the finishing touches on the collection itself. And I was hoping to dash off a few short stories before getting down to the business of starting a second novel. There are times when I wish the day was 36 hours long instead of 24. But then again, as my ex-housemate used to say, it's better to be busy, so I've really no complaints.
Especially not since reading this review at GoodReads.com, by Richard Wright, of the anthology We Fade To Grey. Of course, if you don't want to check out the whole thing (modern life is so hectic, after all), here's the bit that's really brightened my day:
'Rounding it off, and worth buying the whole book for, is Simon Bestwick's The Narrows, a claustrophobic, unrelenting nightmare, bleak but compelling, that raises questions, and leaves you to answer them. Brilliant stuff, by any objective measure...'
For some reason, that story really seems to have struck home for a lot of readers. If you're wondering why- well, of course, you'll just have to buy the book, won't you?
Cough. Please excuse the shameless self-promotion above. But buy the book anyway.
Especially not since reading this review at GoodReads.com, by Richard Wright, of the anthology We Fade To Grey. Of course, if you don't want to check out the whole thing (modern life is so hectic, after all), here's the bit that's really brightened my day:
'Rounding it off, and worth buying the whole book for, is Simon Bestwick's The Narrows, a claustrophobic, unrelenting nightmare, bleak but compelling, that raises questions, and leaves you to answer them. Brilliant stuff, by any objective measure...'
For some reason, that story really seems to have struck home for a lot of readers. If you're wondering why- well, of course, you'll just have to buy the book, won't you?
Cough. Please excuse the shameless self-promotion above. But buy the book anyway.
Tuesday, 10 March 2009
...And The Tide Goes Out
It was a beautiful sunny day in early September when I got the call saying Abaddon Books were commissioning a novel from me. It's now a beautiful sunny day in early March, and it's now in their hands.
Yup, that's it. I did a final spellcheck this morning and emailed the final draft of my novel Tide of
Souls to Jon Oliver at Abaddon. 'Tis all in the lap of the Gods now... well, actually, it's in Jon's lap, but you know what I mean.
I caught the train to work that day- normally I get the bus, but the phone call had delayed me. For some reason I kept listening to Enola Gay by OMD over and over again on the journey. With a Tony-Blair-esque grin pasted to my face that probably traumatised small children for weeks afterwards. I remember the buzz of it- knowing I was going to get a novel published, but not yet embroiled in all the bloody hard work of making it happen. A couple of days later, of course, I had to buckle down and get on with it.
So, five months later, how do I feel? Odd, so far. It hasn't quite sunk in that it's over. Not completely over, of course- Jon will almost certainly what this or that tweaked or changed, there'll be proofs to read and lord knows what else- but virtually every spare hour of the past few weeks has been devoted to rewriting and redrafting.
Sometimes the writing process was the biggest buzz ever- at a couple of points I got bogged down and it was a long, arduous slog to get through it. So, not an unadulterated joy, but it was worth it.
The first draft, just so you know, was just shy of 117,000 words. The final version that went out today was 93,221. There was a lot of deadweight in that middle section.
Of course, at some point, I need to start thinking about a second novel. That'll come soon... and all the work will start again... but not today. Today I'm going to sniff the flowers, feel the sun on my face, see if my friends still remember who I am... and also, yes, I'll probably listen to Enola Gay. Over and over again.
Thanks for listening to me babble. Have a fun day!
Simon
Yup, that's it. I did a final spellcheck this morning and emailed the final draft of my novel Tide of
Souls to Jon Oliver at Abaddon. 'Tis all in the lap of the Gods now... well, actually, it's in Jon's lap, but you know what I mean.
I caught the train to work that day- normally I get the bus, but the phone call had delayed me. For some reason I kept listening to Enola Gay by OMD over and over again on the journey. With a Tony-Blair-esque grin pasted to my face that probably traumatised small children for weeks afterwards. I remember the buzz of it- knowing I was going to get a novel published, but not yet embroiled in all the bloody hard work of making it happen. A couple of days later, of course, I had to buckle down and get on with it.
So, five months later, how do I feel? Odd, so far. It hasn't quite sunk in that it's over. Not completely over, of course- Jon will almost certainly what this or that tweaked or changed, there'll be proofs to read and lord knows what else- but virtually every spare hour of the past few weeks has been devoted to rewriting and redrafting.
Sometimes the writing process was the biggest buzz ever- at a couple of points I got bogged down and it was a long, arduous slog to get through it. So, not an unadulterated joy, but it was worth it.
The first draft, just so you know, was just shy of 117,000 words. The final version that went out today was 93,221. There was a lot of deadweight in that middle section.
Of course, at some point, I need to start thinking about a second novel. That'll come soon... and all the work will start again... but not today. Today I'm going to sniff the flowers, feel the sun on my face, see if my friends still remember who I am... and also, yes, I'll probably listen to Enola Gay. Over and over again.
Thanks for listening to me babble. Have a fun day!
Simon
Thursday, 12 February 2009
That Tide Just Keeps On Rising...
...but in a good way.
You may remember, a few posts back, me saying that my first novel, Tide Of Souls, is coming out in November.
Well- um- it's not.
It's actually coming out in July instead!
A surprise to discover, but a very nice one. The deadline for the MS is the beginning of March, so it doesn't affect me in terms of workload (phew!) Rewrites are going swimmingly and I think I'll have a novel I'll be very pleased with come the end of the month. As long as the edtor likes it. And the general public, of course...
I've no idea how I managed to get the wrong end of that particular stick, but like I said, I'm not complaining.
You may remember, a few posts back, me saying that my first novel, Tide Of Souls, is coming out in November.
Well- um- it's not.
It's actually coming out in July instead!
A surprise to discover, but a very nice one. The deadline for the MS is the beginning of March, so it doesn't affect me in terms of workload (phew!) Rewrites are going swimmingly and I think I'll have a novel I'll be very pleased with come the end of the month. As long as the edtor likes it. And the general public, of course...
I've no idea how I managed to get the wrong end of that particular stick, but like I said, I'm not complaining.
Tuesday, 10 February 2009
Loathsome Scumbag Gets Dismantled...
...although sadly not literally.
The scumbag in question is my local MP, Hazel Blears. This dishonest, swivel-eyed, platitude-mouthing little apparatchik basically embodies the vileness that is 'NuLabour'- the pathetic travesty of the Labour Party that Tony Blair created.
Thatcherites dressed in left-liberal costumes, they've made out like bandits for the last 12 years, and Hazel's been right in the front of them. God knows how she keeps getting back in. Probably because, in Central Salford, you could put a fucking turnip up on the Labour ticket and it would get in. Understandably. Voting Conservative is right up there with unanaesthetised tooth extraction on the list of 'things I would willingly undergo.' Central Salford is one of the most impoverished areas in the country. A lot of questions have been raised about its so-called 'redevelopment', and just what benefits the local population are supposed to derive from it, but from Hazel, we hear not a peep. Not even when the Salford Star, a local mag with integrity and balls, is being deliberately run down and nobbled to silence it.
Anyway, George Monbiot of the Guardian has taken her to task here. Read and rejoice. It ain't stringing these crooked, warmongering, freedom-eroding bastards up from the lampposts they all belong on- together with Cameron and his fucking Tories, who are just the same old wolves in different sheep's clothing. But it'll do for a start.
The scumbag in question is my local MP, Hazel Blears. This dishonest, swivel-eyed, platitude-mouthing little apparatchik basically embodies the vileness that is 'NuLabour'- the pathetic travesty of the Labour Party that Tony Blair created.
Thatcherites dressed in left-liberal costumes, they've made out like bandits for the last 12 years, and Hazel's been right in the front of them. God knows how she keeps getting back in. Probably because, in Central Salford, you could put a fucking turnip up on the Labour ticket and it would get in. Understandably. Voting Conservative is right up there with unanaesthetised tooth extraction on the list of 'things I would willingly undergo.' Central Salford is one of the most impoverished areas in the country. A lot of questions have been raised about its so-called 'redevelopment', and just what benefits the local population are supposed to derive from it, but from Hazel, we hear not a peep. Not even when the Salford Star, a local mag with integrity and balls, is being deliberately run down and nobbled to silence it.
Anyway, George Monbiot of the Guardian has taken her to task here. Read and rejoice. It ain't stringing these crooked, warmongering, freedom-eroding bastards up from the lampposts they all belong on- together with Cameron and his fucking Tories, who are just the same old wolves in different sheep's clothing. But it'll do for a start.
Monday, 9 February 2009
The Tide Is High, But I'm Holding On...
My wonderful publisher, Abaddon Books, has now listed my novel Tide Of Souls on Amazon so you can pre-order it- pre-order it, kids, as it doesn't actually come out on the bookshelves until November. I know, I know- I'm a bloody tease.
Still, at least you can sneak a preview of the cover. To do so, or to actually pre-order my tale of Biblical-scale flooding, flesh-eating zombies and big fucking guns, just click here.
I'm currently hard at work (following my birthday celebrations) to finalise the manuscript, paring down the word count, honing the language, and fact-checking to make sure I haven't fucked up too cataclysmically and made myself look like the biggest arse alive.
Meanwhile, I also have work to do on my short story collection, Pictures Of The Dark. The Table of Contents has been decided, so all I have to do is work out the running order while waiting for Gary Fry at Gray Friar Press to send over a list of edits, alterations and editorial suggestions (as long as none of them involving giving all the stories happy endings and a Cliff Richard soundtrack, we should be OK.) Meanwhile, a cover design bounces back and forth between us, developing slowly but surely.
Two covers and two different approaches. Abaddon's artist, Mark Harrison, had a brief conflab with myself and their Editor, Jon Oliver, then cried 'Eureka! I've got just the idea!' And a month or so later the cover arrives.
Gary Fry first asks 'what would you like to see?' God! Like picking the title for the collection- by far the biggest arseache- this sounds incredibly easy until you actually have to decide. A tentative design appears in the inbox. And the fun begins.
Particularly enjoyable when I went out with a digital camera to get some images for the cover. Most of images needed for the cover are of bleak, urban settings, decaying and rundown. Living around Salford, they were just waiting for me to snap them.
All great, until those occasions when you find yourself thinking 'So here I am, on a deserted industrial estate/the outskirts of a fairly rough council estate, all on my own and brandishing a hundred quid's worth of brand-new digital camera... hm.'
Still, maybe there is a higher, benevolent power that watches over writers as it does the drunken and insane. Or it could be I was just wildly overestimating the dangers. Probably the latter. Although some of my friends based locally don't seem to think so.
Ah well. Point is, those shots are in the bag and there should be more news on that front before much longer. In the meantime, have fun previewing the zombies. And I'll get back to the work I should be doing this after, which the blog has been helping me avoid....
Still, at least you can sneak a preview of the cover. To do so, or to actually pre-order my tale of Biblical-scale flooding, flesh-eating zombies and big fucking guns, just click here.
I'm currently hard at work (following my birthday celebrations) to finalise the manuscript, paring down the word count, honing the language, and fact-checking to make sure I haven't fucked up too cataclysmically and made myself look like the biggest arse alive.
Meanwhile, I also have work to do on my short story collection, Pictures Of The Dark. The Table of Contents has been decided, so all I have to do is work out the running order while waiting for Gary Fry at Gray Friar Press to send over a list of edits, alterations and editorial suggestions (as long as none of them involving giving all the stories happy endings and a Cliff Richard soundtrack, we should be OK.) Meanwhile, a cover design bounces back and forth between us, developing slowly but surely.
Two covers and two different approaches. Abaddon's artist, Mark Harrison, had a brief conflab with myself and their Editor, Jon Oliver, then cried 'Eureka! I've got just the idea!' And a month or so later the cover arrives.
Gary Fry first asks 'what would you like to see?' God! Like picking the title for the collection- by far the biggest arseache- this sounds incredibly easy until you actually have to decide. A tentative design appears in the inbox. And the fun begins.
Particularly enjoyable when I went out with a digital camera to get some images for the cover. Most of images needed for the cover are of bleak, urban settings, decaying and rundown. Living around Salford, they were just waiting for me to snap them.
All great, until those occasions when you find yourself thinking 'So here I am, on a deserted industrial estate/the outskirts of a fairly rough council estate, all on my own and brandishing a hundred quid's worth of brand-new digital camera... hm.'
Still, maybe there is a higher, benevolent power that watches over writers as it does the drunken and insane. Or it could be I was just wildly overestimating the dangers. Probably the latter. Although some of my friends based locally don't seem to think so.
Ah well. Point is, those shots are in the bag and there should be more news on that front before much longer. In the meantime, have fun previewing the zombies. And I'll get back to the work I should be doing this after, which the blog has been helping me avoid....
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