In honour of the publication of The Good Shabti last month, I was invited onto the Tor.com podcast Midnight In Karachi, hosted by Mahvesh Murad. The show is a one-on-one interview format, and the previous guests are all incredibly accomplished SF writers such as Audrey Niffenegger, Patrick Ness,
Shabti everywhere! Shabtum? Shabtii?!
— Jared (@pornokitsch) January 29, 2015
My novella The Good Shabti was launched last night. I did a short reading and spoke to the many people who bought copies. Incredibly, this included people to whom I am in no way related. Continue reading The Good Shabti – Order your copy now
Incredibly, I've changed my twitter avatar, ahead of my novella launch: http://t.co/UVCyG2huX0
— robertsharp59 (@robertsharp59) January 17, 2015
I’ve been tweeting ad nauseum about the launch of my novella, The Good Shabti, on 29th January, but as yet I have yet to share any of the particulars on this blog. Continue reading ‘The Good Shabti’ unwrapping party
To tie in with the announcement about The Good Shabti, my story (0,0) has been published on the Hugo-nominated Pornokitsch website, in their weekly fiction slot. The story, you may recall, was originally published in the Crossroads anthology.
The story begins
Hi there, friend. Is this seat taken?
Click over to the Pornokitsch website to read the entire thing.
Exciting news: Jurassic London have just announced the forthcoming publication of my novella, The Good Shabti. Here’s the beuatiful and incredibly scary cover art by award winning artist Jeffrey Alan Love.
The Good Shabti is a story that spans thousands of years. In the twilight days of Pharoah Mentuhotep, a slave stumbles into the path of imperial ambitions. And in contemporary times, a brilliant scientist and her ruthless companions come close to achieving the impossible: the revivification of an ancient mummy. The two stories weave together in a tale that combines science and myth, anticipation and horror…
I will almost certainly post some commentary and little nuggets of extra information about Pharaoh Mentuhotep IV or the writing process or something, between now and the launch in September. You know, to create a buzz…
Those who have been really paying attention will recall that Jurassic London published a short story by me a little while ago. if you wanted to read that story for free, well, if you subscribed to the Pornokitsch Weekly Fiction mailing list, then maybe , just maybe, something to your advantage will materialise in your inbox tomorrow morning.
My friend and colleague Mazin Saleem tagged me in the Writing Process Blog Tour, a sort of literary Ponzi Scheme where writers answer a few simple questions about their creative process.
Mazin’s post from last week is on his fine Tumblr, and you can click back from that page to see earlier stops on the tour. Its growing into a fascinating collection: Read Katriona Lewis who tagged Mazin, or Ross Hopkins, nominated by Mazin alongside yours truly.
What am I working on?
Nothing. Zilch. Nada.
That might not be literally true. I do have a couple of saved Word documents taunting me in in ‘Writing’ folder: murder mysteries, the pair. Both were good ideas when I began to write them. But both are now rapidly curdling, I fear.
This fact yields an unexpected insight that fits perfectly into a ‘writing process’ post—I work most effectively when there is a deadline looming. I suspect that is true of a lot of writers but I worry that it is symptomatic of a lack of discipline or maybe my immaturity as a writer. I also worry that the only way I would ever get an entire novel written is if someone commissioned me (unlikely, for a first time novel) or I did NaNoWriMo.
I really wish I was one of those writers (like Ross) who have characters bouncing around inside them, demanding to be written. Such authors seem to be able to just blurt out a novel. I find them infuriating! They are also a challenge to my own literary pretentions—If I do not always have a character or a plot or an idea tormenting my waking hours, am I really a writer?
My virtual meeting with Sam has prompted a meandering journey through a few websites dedicated to the stylish presentation of text. I thought I would note the links in one place: first, merely to note the trend; and second because it will aid discussions with colleagues over how to present our own literary content on the fantastic PEN Atlas.
First: Medium is a relatively new site created by Twitter founder Evan Williams. Writers can create beautiful looking stories and essays very quickly. The site has the clean and spacious aesthetic that has become fashionable recently. Design led by the need for readbility and usability on tablets, mobile phones, while also providing a reading experience on desktop and laptop monitors that is easy on the eye. I was delighted that my request for an early-bird account was granted by Medium’s Director of Content, Kate Lee, and I have just uploaded a story to the site to try out the composition features.
You can read ‘Northern Line Lovers‘ on Medium (and if you like the story, please hit the ‘recommend’ button below the text). I think I will post my other ‘Ficciones‘ there at some point. Continue reading Notes on design trends for long-form and creative writing
I enjoyed this short essay promoting Lauren Leto’s book. It’s honest and (I assume) true to the book it seeks to promote.
It’s also presented in an interesting manner, native to the digital world. I wonder if would be as engaging if it were on a couple of pages (either printed or HTML). Probably not.
This type of presentation is not new. Last year Robin Sloane created a ‘tap essay’ called Fish that was published as an iPhone app. Like Leto’s essay, there is no back button, which (according to this Wired review by David Dobbs) provokes the reader to read more closely.
I would say this is another type of native Internet art… although the tap essay format is analogous to picture books that have few words to a page, or stylised essays like Marshall Mcluhan’s The Medium is the Massage. Continue reading Tap Essays: Native Internet Art
When discussing the media, blogging or twitter we hear a lot about this rule of thumb that says “don’t say anything you wouldn’t say to someone’s face”. I think this is a simplistic cliché.
There are lots of reasons to put in writing something that you would not say directly. What you want to say might be quite long. Or it may require hyperlinks to make sense.
But most importantly: the written word is a leveller. It is an essential tool for those who wish to speak truth to power. Saying something to the face of politicians, clerics, military personnel, corporate CEOs or celebrities is incredibly difficult. First you have to actually meet them… and then negotiate the entourages and your own nervousness in order to confront them and say what you want to say. This is incredibly difficult and would present a huge psychological barrier to criticism, if that were the only way we could express dissent.
We evolved the written word so we could converse with (and critique) other people – transcending space, time and social class. “Say it to someone’s face, or not at all” is a silly principle by which to live.
The Free Word Centre has a couple of big bookcases at one end of its central space. Last week, I was surprised to discover on the shelves a copy of the The Blog Digest 2007, which was edited by Justin Mckeating and features a couple of contributions by me. It naturally drags to the surface those old thoughts about the nature of blogging and why someone does it. Back in 2006, when we put together that book, ‘meta-blogging’ (i.e. philosophising about the nature of this new activity) was all the rage. Nowadays? Not-so-much. Back then, it felt as of blogging was its own thing, a distinct community with its own round-up. Now, it is simply another way to take part in a global conversation. Long-form Twitter. Before, bloggers and journalists were considered different creatures. Now, blogging is how journalists do their thing, and it’s never clear whether any given piece you might read online has also made its way into the printed edition of the paper or magazine.
I know why I started blogging: catharsis. I was spending far too much of 2005 writing angry letters to newspapers, and submitting contributions to the BBC Have Your Say website. The comments I made were on pretty much the same topics as the things I discuss on this blog even now: free expression, human rights, belief, foreign policy, the nature of democracy, gay rights, and the evolving internet technology. It was a natural wish to be able publish without waiting for some editorial intern to deem my contribution as relevant!
I think my motivation for maintaining the blog has subtly changed since I began, seven years ago this month. There is much less anger and frustration, less need to blurt out a rebuttal of some hideous, shoddy political argument. There are two reasons for this change. The first is that politics has moved on: the insidious, divisive ideology pushed by President George W. Bush (and shockingly enabled by Tony Blair) has thankfully waned. The second is that now I actually work in human rights campaigning, well within the London political ‘mix’ and with a tangible route to make a difference on the issues I care about. The personal blog is no longer the only way I participate in the political process. As a result, it becomes less urgent.
I am grateful that anyone stops by to read these pages, as I know many of my friends and a few strangers sometimes do. But I know I have no right to expect anyone to continue reading. With that in mind, I perceive a tendency to write as if I am taking notes, diarising (weblogging in other words) as a personal project. I write as much for the future me as for the present you, the present them. I often see the writing as a sort of insurance for the future, a partial brain-backup or a resource that an aged, dementia-addled version of myself can use to pass the time when I no longer go outside.
That, and a record for the progeny. For the past few years, as I’ve mellowed, I have often thought of myself as writing for hypothetical children! I am grateful to those among my own ancestors who wrote something for me, and it is not unreasonable to expect my descendants to read through the blog! I hope they get a feel for this point in human history, and a sense of my ideals. And if I seek to persuade anyone with my writing, it is them.
In a certain sense, therefore, this blog can be seen as shaped by two events, which took place exactly a decade apart. The first is the infamous terror attack of September 11th 2001, which was the spark that ignited two wars and provoked the policies that so angered me.
The second event was the birth of my daughter on 11th September 2011 – one year ago today. She cannot read yet, but now, at last, I know who I am writing for.