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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And so it goes….

 

First, I know it’s not mother’s day yet, but all the same – Have a grand day and may it be the first of many celebrations of you and all the wonders of being a matron!
dscn0809b
Big Kitten Hug to all!

 

Now, since all stories have a slight to very deviant angle to them the tempo is very important. Even chaos has a beat! No matter if it’s the villain’s day or hero’s, if love wins or is tragically lost, the temp must be adhered to. Like a great symphony, one must divide into many parts or movements and conduct them accordingly.

Conversations must flow like water and be ever changing like sky. Moods and actions change, but never roughly or choppy. An end can be abrupt, but never a cut off. Cliff hangers are an occupational hazard and not mandatory for all tales.
As I’ve noted before ~ Let the story tell itself. Simple really,
I thought of an interesting beginning for a tale – let’s see how this is received or perceived….

  Mirror me this…

© 2018 Jon Corres Pirate Poet

It was over. All that was left was to go to bed and dream away the nightmare. Darkness and crept in and silver light shone from the sliver of moon hanging in the air. A tomb would have been louder and yet…
Something was troubling. Why did the shadows remain in the hall with the lights on? As she passed the vanity in the main bedroom, it seemed to ripple and distort her features. Marcus was already miles away by now, could she reach him in time? She reached for her mobile only to find that despite the image in the mirror, it wasn’t on her night stand!

 

Okay. Another tease of sorts and hopefully a good example.

Write well, be brilliant and creative ~ Always!

~ The Pirate Poet

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Writing, editing and listening for the right tale at the right time…

13th Doctor

Above is my latest wallpaper and inspirational picture. Yeah, if you haven’t noticed, I’m a Doctor who fan from ages back starting with Patrick Troughton’s Doctor. Below, I’m going to put up the beginning of one of my short stories – just to see if I get some interest.
In the mean time, a note on my dragon stories – I don’t write from the usual drivel. I explore all the myths and legends surrounding these universally discussed beasts or beings. It would seem that every culture has a story or something of a great lizard like creature that either roamed the depths or the skies above.
All had some sort of magical properties or powers. Some were even shape shifters of no small ability… ah, but I will cover that in up and coming tales and anthologies – if not books.
Okay, so from Crimson Claw ~

Running. It’s not the most pleasurable of pastimes when one isn’t in any shape to do so.

A forest is the worst place to have to discover how much you’re not in any shape to try, let alone dream, of becoming involved with. And yet, in the midst of a smoke filled, disgustingly hot wooded area, a lone figure that best represented the couch potato crowd went tearing through the under-brush attempting just that.

Marion Arthur Rafael was pretty much a cubicle ground-hog. Anything above a relaxing stroll to the library or over to the pizza parlour he loved to patronise with his fellow computer analysts was usually too much to even dream about! It wasn’t until the annual physical that Marion was shocked in to the need for more vigorous exercise. When the company offered a camping and hiking retreat to Germany; It was an offer too good to refuse. There was even a chance to meet up with one of his online gaming friends.

So, he came on this camping trip to the great Black Forest in Germany to relax and improve his fitness level – not to die a horrible death at the hands of an unseen presence. Well, to be honest, he and the others didn’t need to see it; They saw the destruction it wrought after their guide accidentally or on purpose took a giant egg shaped object from a very large, and newly found, cave. Thus the mad dash to be anywhere a flame throwing and earth shaking thing isn’t!

Anyway, my sense of humour coming to the fore at the beginning of a tale… hope you enjoy and maybe go out and get the Ebook copy to enjoy –
Scales and Hearts is on Nook and Kobo  ~ * bow * ~

See previous blogs for links…

Okay, on to editing. I was trained from Primary school onward to tertiary school that I had to be able to dissect my own work as easily and as cleanly as I could someone else’s.
This was very important to my grammar and literature instructors/professors! Yes, you put your heart and soul, as you should, into every labour or laudable undertaking. However, if you truly love it – you’ll be more than prepared to take a deep breath and carefully read and work on your work. I’ve seen some of what some main stream editors call their best and am quite appalled! Ah, who knows? Someone may catch on… or not.
I just know that in exercising my education, I recall rules of writing and grammar much easier as to avoid future blunders.
That’s my take on editing. Period.

As always, tell the story as your heart dictates, write what you know with as much excitement and energy as you put in your first endeavour. Never sweat the details as it will be your downfall – worrying so over minor things. Always tell the tale as it comes to you – not as some cookie cutter type dictates! It’s your story that you were privy to see/hear in your mind and your pleasure to relate to the reading public.
Don’t be a carbon copy!

~ Cheers and ALLONS – Y!

~ The Pirate Poet

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Another day….

So, congratulations to the Duchess – a baby boy!
Wow, Melania actually smiles? Oh wait! She was with a proper gentleman and former president… silly me.

All right then… a little something for the day ~

(C) 2018 Jon Corres Pirate Poet

In defence of the Day, as strange as it may be
To all that give of their resources, time and energy
For that one particular passion, at least for now
So we apply to our everyday endeavours
Breeze, wafting through the windows and doors
Sunlight warm on the face
Lovely, the scent of blossoms in the air
Arise!
This is the moment, time and your day

Cheers!

Okay, so on to other work.  I still can put together an encyclopaedia averaging around 10k pages for each of the worlds in my Camden’s Follies universe.  This touches on flora, fauna, religion, politics and ethnicities. Yeah, that’s a lot! However, we’re discussing a world that’s a couple of billion years old or so – even older than the Earth by lengths and furlongs.
I would say, for something as singular as Elder Offensive, I could do a bit more as the history is richer and more diverse for the colony world. I know mapping would be in order for all the places I’ve invented in the plotting room of my imagination.
* SIGH *
However, time to wait and see if the publisher agrees with my book writing approach. I did tell her it’s in British English and not in the American dialect….
Anyway, for a small sample I can post in the future… maybe do an online serial of sorts, eh? Don’t be shy! Let me know what would strike your fancy – other than fan-fiction. I try to avoid that like the plague as I have deep regard and consideration for my fellow authors and authoresses! We all put a tremendous amount of time , energy and love into our craft and when we make characters a certain way, we mean it exactly as we write it!
I simply can’t fathom why the reader can’t accept the obvious and just leave it alone – it’s our work and not theirs!
Note – if you do write fan fiction, then think of this; If you can re – write someone’s long hard slog and labour of love, you can write your own original tale! Leave ours alone…

Okay then, so, I’ll be off for now and back to the grind. I need to break a few writing records you see – typing wise!

ALLONS – Y!

~ The Pirate Poet

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just some quick shots and shouts or just a single shot

 

Belated wisdom and updates.

Our children are not our future, but extensions of today. It is not for us to pass on our problems to a new generation that we can solve today.
Listening means you listen sans giving advice. Deep down the one that requests the kind ear doesn’t need your solutions – they need to know that people who are closest to them trust their judgement and inner wisdom.
In one form or another, this has been said and ignored. Treating children like adults and adults like children. Honestly, when did humanity get so tangled in stupidity that it does what sounds or feels good over what, as individuals, they know is truly good.

How we make our choices is just as important as why. Never in haste, nor out of cruelty or cowardice or out of panic. From a place of calm, more can be done.
The way to defeat a bad idea is to embrace the good ones instead.

Okay, I’m off my box of reiteration for now.
dscn0801
To the updates!

Elder Offensive – I’ve narrowed down the survivors from the luncheon meat, er, the dead. Part one and two of the first book are ready for artwork and I have two more artists to consult on that front. Thus saving me the hair pulling and anguish of learning a computer programme that leaves me in tears every time I think I’ve got it sussed.

Camden’s Follies – Okay, how’s this for a pitch;
Near the early 20t century an unwitting forensic pathologist in training winds up on an alien world, to become a pirate and answer a vague prophecy! Sounds like excitement and really wild things? Not to protagonist James Camden!
This tale is a send up on all stereotypical heroes of the silent and early talkie films. It covers mainly what happens behind the scenes from his viewpoint – plus the odd insight from his compatriots in pirate arms. Romance, Comedy, Melodrama and over the top characters wrapped in a corking good tale ~ How’s that?
Anyway, I threw the rule book out and shot with a laser cannon to write this one. It’s a roller coaster ride that takes you to the outer spiral arm of the galaxy and back again.

Cheers for now ~
Yours poetically, fictionally and generally off the wall…

~ The Pirate Poet

P.S
I wonder what happened to all those folk I requested an interview for? * shrug  *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Transitions, writing and being me..