And so, forth with, we go…

 

I find the generic start for a tale a bit tedious. Honestly, how many stormy nights can one encounter?! ( Aside from old Weetabix head) And who is this screaming female/male? Did the antagonist hire a voice over person?
I personally don’t mind tossing readers right into the action. ( see Camden’s Follies or Elder Offensive or better yet ~ Hearts and Scales! * in print currently with 4 stories *)
For horror, I prefer a different tense and tension. There has to be a certain feel and tone that reminds one of a classical orchestration.
To me, Jaws – the film and the book, Silver Bullet ( I hope I got the title right – memory is a bit dodgy these days) and Relic are good examples aside from the Kat Lightfoot series by Sam Stone ( Blatant plug ~ There’s a 6th book on the way, by the by!).

My point is, you must have a sense of rhythm and timing.  Comedy is timing and set – up, action is a bit like a carnival ride with slow, high and low points, rests and then sharp dives or wicked action. Science fiction, well, that’s complex along with Steampunk. A bit like classical Jazz improvisation.

Anyway, getting closer on Camden’s Follies Book 1 part 1 all 25 chapters….
Get ready, the ride is boarding now, book on and hold on!

Cheers and until next time ~

~ The Pirate Poet

Book 1 part 1 Index

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Why can’t all burger bars have all day menus?

Okay, so, quite a lead in for my lunch endeavours.  I’m having to pick up some fast/convenient food and I’m looking at a generic burger bar.
In regards to writing…

How to wind up the audience. I’m a firm believer of slight of hand in plain sight. Thus I can set – up a gotcha scene or event with either a cliff hanger or gut punch/line.  Use your intuition and of course experience for delivery purposes.
Now, looking for other writers/story tellers/authors for Volume 2 and 3 of Hearts and Scales. Dragon world where dragon encounters happen in modern, medieval and bronze age times.  For extra world info – leave message.
My only rub is finding the right place/publisher for this… to a degree the range of audiences goes from young to adult. Romance, comedy, steampunk, science fiction, horror are ALL on the table.
My only rule is  – keep to the guidelines as broad as they are. You and only you – dear authors – can set the final pro and antagonists, if any, for your tale.
Right now I am waiting for a good friend and publisher to have a free moment or to ask her close friends and author/editors for an assist.  Me, I’m always available to assist in laudable undertakings! Besides, she’s a wondrous human being and much better than a lot of the established main stream types.

Also, poetry request time –
I’m game if you are to request one.

Until next time …

~ The Pirate Poet
SCAN5123 BEST JONS PREFERRED SCALES=HEARTS 14JUNE17 6

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

More writing and still, I’m not getting an effing agent!

Greetings to all on this wonderful Monday! Now if my machine and mouse would only work well… * shrug * .
In regards to my line on agents –
To: Publishers
From: Disgruntled and NOT wealthy writer

Stop with the idiot catch! None of us writers can EVER afford a bloody agent/solicitor!
I for one REFUSE to go into deep debt just for pennies on the pound pay and more fine print nonsense on my contract! You have one job, ONE! Either do it or get out of the bloody buisness – HONESTLY!
You take around 70 – 90 percent of the sale price already. I REFUSE to pay a solicitor an average of £45k  so I can be published. One more time; ARE YOU MAD!?!?

Okay, I’m through for now – until I organise the other independents into a union…  That should put paid to your foolishness!

Currently waiting and watching for word from Wolfsinger Publications. Writing more and seeing who wants to really show their mettle. Also a BIG shout out to Sam Knight! Author, publisher and stand up bloke all around!!!
May have my cover for Camden’s follies sooner than I thought… ALLONS – Y!
Take THAT you nay – sayers and disbelievers – it IS happening! YAY!
Am still finalising ideas on my Kickstarter or Patreon campaign…
C’mon folks! Time to human up and show that reading isn’t dead and that readers rule the roost ~

~ Until next time
The Pirate Poet

Wisdom, sage, rosemary and time?

Clock at Afternoon Verssille

On the subject of writing…
I wonder sometimes, if anyone ever applies their learning. We go through 10 years of primary and 3 – 4 of secondary and at least another 2 – 4 of tertiary education – for what?
I hope not to forget, but to have something to use as a base to work from. Grammar, maths and the like – we use them every day. Reading, it may or may not provide for the next big thing, but it does help problem solving by clearing and refreshing the imagination and thinking mind.
Videos may be nice, but on the other hand if what I’ve garnered is any indication – they fail by miles to a patient instructor or professor. You can play and replay a video till you’re blue in the face – it won’t help in the process, answer the why’s or tell you if you’re veering to far from the projected and desired result.
Also, it fails to teach patience, care and consideration – all traits that writers and story tellers require ( and yes, to a degree they are the same thing!).  By practising basic grammar correction or even playing with ideas and phrasing does more for the author or authoress by miles than simply watching an egotistical, double speaking person who probably only speaks about writing and never actually writes.
This leads me to the classes for authors –
Seriously? I know inspiration comes from many sources, but this? Sorry, but I never saw a use for those kinds of classes and as far as networking goes – we have social media, Linked in and of course conventions. True, I’m also not a supporter of the good old boy/girl network. It tends to shunt the new talent away and bury it long before it reveals and revels in it.
Then again, I’m not dead chuffed with the idea of starting a career in debt by having to hire a solicitor/agent and then cover your own expenses and do your own marketing despite being under contract. This doesn’t count being shunted to one side after a month or less because one of the publishers “money” writers has done it again so to speak.
~Okay I’m off my soapbox!
I know this will rub a fair few wrong, but after Mary Shelley and the long list of others over publishing history that had to, unnecessarily I might add, fight to have their work published or to be recognised for it… well, let’s just say I’m glad I have the opportunity to publish independently.
On a side note my writing muses/heroes and inspiration are ~
Tolkien, Connie Willis, Andre Norton, Robert Burns, Agatha Christie, P.D. James and Mary Shelley.

In conclusion to the rant ( I know what I wrote earlier, but this was an afterthought) –
As an author/story teller it is my job to get my tales out to the public as much as my poetry. I don’t do what I do for the awards as much as the joy of giving tales to the public to immerse themselves in, forget their tedious days and refresh themselves.
I have a fair few friends who are quite talented, but only need the encouragement and gentle prodding to keep them going. Also, we tend to do our best when we can live indoors and eat. So… Please, please, please support our independent authors, artists, musicians. Don’t be a pirate and make money off of someone else’s work and keep your music, reading and viewing library wide open as your mind!

Till next time and hopefully a more bright and centred blog ~

~ The Pirate Poet

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Another day…

Yeah, this could be a boring one. Not really! Triple Mocha Frapaccino from Starbucks and my caffeine and chocolate levels in my blood are coming back to normal. I’d hope to do a shop round today so, this could be somewhat fun.
In regards to writing…
When introducing a world or new land, try and describe as much as possible so future readers don’t get bogged down by too much detail. It also ensures people read from the beginning as smart arses complain you can simply point out that true readers would have begun at the beginning and actually read the thing.  I know in Camden’s Follies I never truly described the male admiralty  – just what the officers wore to distinguish them from the rank and file.
I did that on purpose as secondary or even primary protagonists don’t always need description as they require being depicted by their evil deeds. Not to mention, the true key villains are taken care of. Also, I like my readers to have to imagine a bit more than most for what the majority of villains appear as.
Yeah, I’m off the wall and different. It’s what makes my stories unique and my style of writing my own. Anyway, just enjoy the story/stories as they come out.
It may be next week or next year… hard to say some times, but I will get work out and to the reading public. Time to put the paradigm shift into top gear, yes?

Okay, perhaps a sampler or teaser… yes?

Camden’s Follies

For Becky with a big hug for the other evil triplets, Charmaine and Kyrstin! To James, Quincy, David, Sam and David, Katherine, Marc, Misty and Karen – my muses from down under. I wish I could list all my friends and extended family, but for now I’ll settle for using your inspiration in the form of characters here in.

Part 1

From the diaries of Doctor Camden, Lunar physician and Pirate

Chapter Index pg 001

Chpt 1 My Journey Begins pg 002

Chpt 2 Next Episode ~ When worlds collide and gentlemen find their mettle pg 009

Chpt 3 Pirates! pg 015

© 2015 Jon Corres Pirate Poet

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the express written permission of the copyright holder, except where permitted by law. This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or, if real, used fictitiously.

Camden’s Follies

Part 1, Chapter 1: From the diaries of Doctor Camden, Lunar physician and Pirate

My Journey Begins

The main engine of the Queens Dirigible“Bernoulli” makes a chirruping sound as the propeller squeaks on and off. Forensic Physician Dr. Camden looks bored and frustrated behind his aged typewriter as he attempts to compose his thoughts. A brief flurry of screaming followed by heavy feet running to and fro cause the near middle aged traveller to look up from his palms.

The tall English gentleman sits in a confined space where he’s been trying to type his journal up. Young, relatively, Doctor Camden is dressed in khaki brown with a waist coat while his long coat is draped over his chair. His hair is solid black and the look of a well groomed upper class gentleman. His handlebar moustache seems a bit out of place as it covers his entire mouth. The lines around his eyes make him seem older in the dim lit cabin as he continues to stare at the ceiling, ranting out loud.

~

Best to stay inside and not bother the professor… professor?! Hah! Daft old man and an even more dense pair of followers, I’d say. Six weeks and barely land in sight, a flight that was supposed to take half that time. I’m sat on my backside in this cramped cabin, not so much as a flying monkey and it’s far too cold out on deck to even try to take a photograph, decent or otherwise, of the, er seascape. I wonder why the captain even remotely tolerates the barmy old codger? ”

I begin to type again when a familiar odour wafts from beneath my door. The acrid smell of burnt rubber and petrol products forces me to open the window of my cabin, perhaps that’s being too generous. It’s a portal that is as easy to open and close as a whale bone corset! I’m wondering about my decision to trust these people to take me to Africa when I could have simply bucked up my courage and taken a steamship to Egypt before taking up the reigns on a fine Arab charger, something I’m more at home with than modern machinery that I have no idea how to operate and at this rate no desire to learn about.

DAMN IT MAN! I SAID SPANNER! NOT GIVE ME THE CAN OF LUBRICANT!!!”

* Sigh * My eyes nearly lock in their sockets as they roll up in disgust.

How many times must this buffoon, Scottish at that, forget that between his accent and his lack of linguistic ledger domain they have a hard time understanding him. Not withstanding the idea his “help” has a limited command of the English language. Blast this old typewriter! And who’s that at my door?

Mr. Camden? Doc – tor James Camden?”

I hear in a barely audible tone and in a very thick Portuguese accent.

Sir, professor McTavit needs you, sir… in ze engine room, we are, as you say, not sure ’bout what it is he’s asking ’bout … please!”

My frustration is at it’s peak now. First off, I’m a physician in training of sorts, something new called forensic medicine… dissecting the dead and all that to determine cause of death. I was supposed to be in central Africa with a company of soldiers working with their surgeon, a Doctor Hamslick from Kent. He pioneered this idea about five years prior on the behest of the Duke of Edinburgh to help settle a case of poisoning of one of his staff, nasty business.

I throw my long coat on and make my way behind a very frustrated and agitated middle aged man from Portugal who is muttering curses in his native tongue under his breath.

We arrive at the doorway to the engine room, just beneath the centre of the dirigible. It’s blackened and charred from a series of explosions and fires. McTavit won’t tell me one bloody thing about his contraption, suffice it to say the gears and inner workings seem to need to be kept both cool and well lubricated and that’s all I can ascertain from my personal observations and that would be all I know of it.

Well, all right I can tell it’s massive and took a lot of time to put together, but what fuels it and why it needs to be in a state of near bathing in oil… that one is definitively over my head!

I tried holding my nose as I entered but to no avail. My compatriot handed me a set of goggles to put on so, well, I guess my eyes would be protected or less likely to melt out of my head. It smelt like the engine room of a freighter, if it hadn’t been cleaned in about ten years! It felt like stepping into a really bizarre painting, everything seemed to be black and hardly discernible! I knew there was a lot of piping and that the head room was dicey at best. I made my way via the sound of the shouting and the expertise of my guide to have memorised his surroundings. Not too successfully, I must say as I managed to bang my forehead and top of my skull twice, I made it to my destination.

By the looks of it, the two yelling at each other were in the centre of a chamber of some sort. Openings at the top were in rows and lines, three roughly from what I could make out. The odd part was that there were what looked like mirrors or mirrored surfaces all over the walls and even the floor. I noted that there seemed to be some kind of clean – up under way. That’s when I saw the old goat arguing with the other poor prat, er, assistant. McTavit was old, with bushy mutton – chop sideburns and the complexion of a tomato. He looked a burly man gone to seed and was easily as tall as me, if only a tad shorter. His red hair was still visible through the heavy silver gray. He was even dressed in coveralls of a tartan nature, that is, from what was visible beneath the grime.

McTavit was pointing and looking apoplectic at the eastern most wall of reflective surfaces and moving his eyebrows like my old professor at Cambridge. I stood mesmerised till I realised that the wall of mirrors was slightly concave. I looked to their twin to the west and noted they were convex, perhaps they were supposed to be identical? That seemed to be what was getting under the engineers pecks. I shan’t bore you with details, suffice it to say that everything came to a grinding halt once my guide coughed and pointed.

 

And remember, it’s my copyright as the message above warns so… anyway, enjoy this snippet and let me know! I can probably have an Ebook ready  as soon as I can wrangle a cover art piece.

 

Till Next Time –

~ The Pirate Poet

author-at-work

All righty then…

First, to get this off my chest ~

I hate cowards, liars and those with gutless excuses!

Okay, now on to something of a literary discussion ~

Killing off characters:

You can either do so with impunity and lack of good sense or you can use your brains for something other than a sponge for idiocy and work with the plausible. Timing is everything and, if you do it right, with forethought and planning you can give a gut wrenching moment for the audience that makes them scream for your head on a platter!
It’s also imperative that you give meaning to the death, for extra impact. I like the idea of Greek Tragedy myself, start slowly and leave people gasping for more! ( Or less if they prefer their characters/like the majority of the protagonists and antagonists)
Character driven tales require a LOT of planning in this regard ( as implied/mentioned earlier). So really, really plan this out or it becomes a depressingly boring exercise in blood, guts and the occasional Al Gore. ( Yeah, I’m not fond of someone more stiff than a cadaver)

Okay, so maybe something poetic?

 

Bitter

© 2017 Jon Corres Pirate Poet

Oh to hide behind falsehoods and deception

A spy of the heart

An assassin of dreams

For one cold moment, did I open myself

An eternity will I regret

A pain that leaves no visible scar

Not even a tear shed in sweet, but dour, sorrow

Would it be, that even a tower needs a resident?

Even lonely echoes are a song brighter than wind

Moans, a viable alternate to silence

Yet, I have neither

Never even the comfort of the smallest of creatures
Pity is even enviable to the state of my spirit

A punishment not thought, nor given conscious attention

Should your reward be!

Away with your poison! Let me cry freedom and release my darkened soul from the confines of this tortuous prison of finery
Fakery!

Today you have your trophy, held tightly in your hand
Covered in blood and tears

Taste the spite in the air, defiant and grim

But only a frame, a portrait within a larger mosaic or tapestry
Low, I shall prevail
For now, I heal

And for now, till I rant or at least come up with something other than political to discuss …

~ The Pirate Poet

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Today and beyond…

I find myself at crossroads these days for no other reason than I’m just getting older. True, that’s not news all in itself, but it does add to the poetry angle ~ ~

© 2018 Jon Corres Pirate Poet

A little colder
I wish I could soar above it all
Maybe, if I close my eyes
Just let go
A sensation of falling for a while
Wind whistling in my ears
No bottom
No place to land
Would it be so difficult?
Could it be that hard?
To let the currents carry me
From star to star, nebula to cosmic birth
Simply, eloquently
Going
On

Not sure if that’s a hit or miss, but it came to mind! Still writing and finding more and more that fiction is simpler than real life ~ and a tad saner and easier to explain!
Now for the world of humanity to catch up…
So, once again, editing off hand and working on my basic writing skills. I find it very difficult to relate to anyone who doesn’t do something at a basic level to keep up with grammar, spelling and punctuation. A lost art it seems to be becoming and I for one am going to go down swinging and never be lazy about it!
I’m wondering if we the independent artists, authors and musicians should band together world wide to apply pressure to be paid reasonable rates and not pennies on the pound/dollar! Change must come and soon ~ Don’t you agree?
More dragon tales of the unconventional – or so I hope – are on the way! New ideas for horror and the odd fantasy are also availing themselves to yours truly.
Until that time I can break the mould fully ~

Take care, be creative and  ~
ALLONS – Y!

 

~ The Pirate Poet

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A little ghost in the offering…

author-at-work

So, a little something still in the works…

Elder Offensive Book 1 chapter 1

© 2018 Jon Corres Pirate Poet

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the express written permission of the copyright holder, except where permitted by law. This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or, if real, used fictitiously

Chapter 1: MacReady

An empty room. Another one after. The entire floor was nothing but vacant space. The hall echoed with heavy sounds of marching boots, military to be precise.

This was the fifth building of this nature, and yet sergeant MacReady of 43rd platoon, beta battalion, 4th Regiment, advanced scouts/rangers aka the Elite Wraiths, was definitely feeling even more uneasy about this reconnoitre. Maybe because it was an Asylum? The sign from the flight in mentioned the name of the place was Pendragon Asylum for the chemically, emotionally and psychologically disturbed. Yeah, that was it! The idea of running into a loon with an axe, no fear or pain receptors wasn’t very encouraging.

In regards to offensives, the whole thing was a bad job in his eyes. No visible enemy to shoot at and everything in pristine condition. Here however, if what he read on the outside was correct, in an asylum of all places, there was a strange presence in the air. There was no other way to describe it. When they landed on the roof, all dozen in the initial debarking squad in his command stopped in their tracks and took defensive positions before the other eight rangers came up behind them. None could see anything out of the ordinary, but all felt as if the they were being watched and a couple in the rear guard could swear there was movement.

The air was thick with fear and dread. Once, not so long ago, say about five months prior, this was a vibrant colony of humanity. Venoshia 3 was colonised in the Centurion Decade of the fourth cycle of the Emperor’s year – Kashimai. That was five years ago.

Terra-forming revealed this was once populated by a now long extinct or emigrated race of reptilian people ( or was that amphibious?). Arthur MacReady only knew that they lost contact and it was up to the United Earth Alliance Armed Forces – Special advance scouts – to assess the situation and render aid.

Okay, there you are. Want more? Bug the publisher and ask about advanced ordering!
see previous blogs for whom to direct your desires to ~
Anyway… Kobo is my main resource for getting material out. Nook is a distant second and I’m looking forward to working with LuLu in the future. In the mean time…
I guess I can finish out the Create Space nonsense and deal with the idea of Kindle and low pay  ~ * SIGH * ~
Beezos you  B******! You have $3 billion in liquid assets and can pay authors better! No matter what Sarah says.
One more time ~
Read. Support the indie authors and artists – you’ll feel better if you do! Be brilliant and remember…
I’ve got some story left in me yet, just need a good way to introduce it and pay my cover artists!

~ The Pirate Poet

Okay, so here goes…

Day after and am a little lost for thought. I’m not sure about proceeding, but I am certain I will have to. Being in limbo over writing is a bit of a downer, I must admit.

© 2018 Jon Corres Pirate Poet

Enduring places, between the lie and the light 
Empty traces, paths that never cross or end to soon
Should I or shouldn’t I?
Will I ever, or is it time to say never?
Within The rondo that is life’s song
Where in shall I find my solo?
Did I forfeit my duet for a lone walk to the edge of for ever?
In my elder state
Of old age and improbable living
I have survived more that I should
More, by far than I’ve earnt!
Still
I feel as if I’ve been given a time I’ve never deserved
An era that knows no bounds of the foolhardy
A century for the fool
And yet, I carry on
Will I endure, I know not
On the other hand, magic  only dies when the last trick is played

E – Yup. Another day, a step forward to what I have no idea. Well, I’m still writing something and just dreaming to envision.
Perhaps, I shall be immersed or inspired for something more, but I have little energy to apply for the moment. So many stories, I don’t know where to begin and hope beyond all hope I can get them out to the public.
Peace be with you all and may I find mine!

Till the next time ~

~ The Pirate Poet

Elisabeth-Sladen-007

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Birthday rant and possibly a contest for the masses?!

dscn0809b

 

 

Yeah, today I became a year older officially – no, I’m not that excited. I know I should be happier and all, but there you are. However, I should be ordering some new books and preparing to write a review for my friend Sam Knight – general author du jour!
True, having to order one’s own cake or something can be a bit of drudgery. On the other hand, at least I’ll quit digressing about yours truly and get on with things!
I’m chomping at the bit to get going on either edits or more writing. I’ve run out of energy temporarily thanks to good old mother nature and her antics! Seriously, haven’t I paid enough penitence for one lifetime? Or summat like that…
I really do hate the hurry up and wait strategy! Now, if I can only raise the funds for a cover artist and I’d be over the moon!

Anyone for more teaser? Say Camden’s Follies?
Well, let me know! Silence is only the currency of choice in libraries and theatres and cinemas!

Song lyrics that answer or raise more questions than answer about yours truly ~
From REM’s Man on the Moon –

Here’s a little agit for the never-believer
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Here’s a little ghost for the offering
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Here’s a truck stop instead of Saint Peter’s
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Songs on my play list ~

 

 

Anyway, enjoy and recall I’m in a bit of a rush and all… Take care and may you all be ever brilliant!
Oh, and the contest… I’m still thinking on it, but it does involve and autographed book or story sample…

ALLONS – Y!
~ The Pirate Poet