Normality? No, I don't think I'm familiar with the concept

Sat, 07 Nov 2009 22:07:45 GMT

Nicola just dumped me

NaNoWriMo

Tue, 03 Nov 2009 21:58:30 GMT

NaNo seems to have been going slow so far, which was not good, seeing as how I'll only have a couple of hours a day for the next week or so in which to write. But I've just completed my first fight scene, and suddenly, the next bits of plot are all lining up waiting for me to blunder through them. I only hope I can remember things long enough to get them written down.

Thu, 08 Oct 2009 15:44:12 GMT

Since lots of people seem to be posting links to LOLCats recently, here's another one...

HS&S:WT Short

Thu, 13 Aug 2009 15:34:14 GMT

It was the first time all three finalists in Jenvar's Tournament were all women. The first few rounds of the Tournament had been the usual mix of male and female warriors, but the Tournament's unique rules had caused more than the usual number of men to be eliminated this year. It didn't matter what your preferred weapon was, nor did it matter if you could ride or not. Each and every entrant was handed a new blunted weapon at the start of each round, and you had to ride while fighting. This was probably just as well, as Jenvar's position high in the mountains of Yalkat meant there was almost always snow covering the arena floor. This was a particularly cold winter, though, and the snow had hardly stopped falling, blanketing the arena in a several inches-deep carpet.

It the red tabard, Delenn, of the Sword Sisters, a religious order sworn to protect those women who worked in the temples during the Festival of Kos, was looking uneasy with her shortbow. Across from her, her red hair dropping loosely down her back, was Xarinia in a blue tabard, holding lightly the blunted shortsword she'd been given. And finally, equidistant from the others in a yellow tabard, was Lyselle, looking severely pissed off that she'd been given a quiver of blunt javelins. They each eyed each other warily, keeping an eye on the grand box where the Lord of Jenvar would, any second now, be dropping the weighted cloth that would signal the start.

The rules were simple – once the cloth was dropped, you could do anything you wanted except fight on foot, or purposefully kill someone. The last person standing (or, more accurately, riding) was the winner. You could dismount and pick up a discarded weapon, you could use your horse to trample an unhorsed opponent, you could even discard your weapon and use your fists if you thought there was any mileage in it. Last year, the first round had seen a berserker throw away his sword with enough force to unhorse the person it had hit, and proceed to wipe the floor with everyone else by hitting them with his shield. He'd been given a bow in the next round – he broke it over a swordsman's head and took the weapon out of his unresisting hand. Sword Sisters usually ended up quite high in the rankings.

Delenn experimented a few more times with the best way of holding the bow and the reins at the same time as she tried not to shiver. Xarinia didn't bother to hide how cold she felt – her breath steamed from her mouth, and her cheeks almost matched the colour of her hair. Lyselle was mentally preparing herself for the coming fight and keeping herself warm by swearing under her breath at everything under (and including) the unduly weak sun.

The cheering reached a crescendo. The Lord of Jenvar dropped the cloth. There was a moment of silence. Then Delenn raised her bow and loosed off a quick shot before spurring forwards, Xarinia made her horse rear before letting it leap forward, and Lyselle hauled her horse to the right and into a gallop. The crowd started cheering again.

Delenn's first shot missed Xarinia by a few feet. When she saw her opponent's horse coming straight for her, she tried to turn to her left, but she couldn't do that and aim at the same time. Xarinia's horse barrelled into hers, her blade following immediately afterwards. Delenn's horse was knocked sideways with the impact, and Delenn herself was almost doubled up by the force of the blow, with all the speed and weight of the charging horse behind it. Delenn tried to kick her horse away, but it was having none of it, and she used her bow to block Xarinia's blows, and tried to hit her with the tips.

Lyselle reined in at the far wall of the arena, and turned to face the other two. As she'd hoped, they'd left her alone, which meant she could take her time and line up her throws properly. The first two javelins missed, despite the proximity of the two targets, but the third hit Delenn's shoulder. She yelped, distracted, and Xarinia took the opening, swiping her sword across Delenn's forehead. Delenn reeled, and this time her horse went with her. Dazed, she could do nothing to stop it wandering up to the arena wall, nor anything to prevent Xarinia riding up behind her for another thunderous blow that knocked her out, unhorsing her.

The crowd went wild as the red-clad warrior collapsed on the ground. This was the sort of thing the crowd had loved from Xarinia for the whole tournament. Now they had seen one finalist easily overcome another, and the third had hardly done anything. They urged Xarinia to finish Lyselle just as quickly as she had Delenn. But in their excitement, they had forgotten that Lynelle had reached the final largely through cunning.

Lynelle took off anti-clockwise around the arena as Xarinia charged. She lobbed another javelin, and noted where it landed – well short and wide. Lynelle threw again. This time it was closer, but Xarinia was closing, so she changed direction. Lyselle kept riding in a figure of eight, hurling javelins whenever Xarinia was close enough. Few hit, fewer did any noticeable damage. This was getting difficult for Lyselle – she'd only had 18 javelins to start with, and now most of them were gone. The crowd were baying for her defeat.

She took a chance and reined in, hard, turning the horse as it reared. She hurled a javelin at Xarinia, who was now very close, and almost head-on. She didn't wait to see it hit before urging the horse forward again, then readied another javelin. She reached the wall, slowed and turned, threw again, and spurred to a gallop again. Last javelin. A sweeping turn to the left, Xarinia closing all the time. Lyselle made a sharp turn to the right, and hurled the javelin sideways. It spun through the air, hitting Xarinia's horse on the head, making it stumble and shy away. Lyselle galloped up to the wall and dismounted. Delenn's body was lying there, her bow next to her. She picked up the weapon, and turned to find Xarinia already bearing down on her. She yelped and ducked under her horse's neck, putting the horse between her and her adversary, grabbed the bridle and urged it into a walk after her. She mounted on the move, staying low to the saddle, and urged the horse faster. She checked, and Xarinia was only a couple of yards off her flank. Lyselle sat up, reined in the horse, and swung the bow backhand at neck height. It slammed into Xarinia's neck, knocking her backwards off her horse. Lyselle shooed the other horse away, and turned her own. Xarinia was scrambling to her feet. Lyselle spurred her horse, and hauled back on the reins. It reared, its' hooves pawing the air. And came down heavily on Xarinia, knocking her cold.

The crowd went wild. They had a new champion of their Tournament.

Wed, 12 Aug 2009 14:29:08 GMT

I got a honking huge brown envelope today (which is just the sort of thing one wants on the morning before you go on holiday). It contained the full text of the quack's report that prompted the suspension of my ESA. It's a copy of all the material that is being used at the appeal tribunal, for which we still don't have a hearing date, and another copy has one to the person acting for me in this matter. What the by-the-numbers checklist report basically says, is that since I was not gibbering and climbing the walls or catatonic during the 20 minutes the so-called examination took, I am perfectly societally functional, and can go to work anywhere, anywhen. Just because they haven't seen me stressing out when I miss a train connection, or the reaction caused due to having to fill in one of their vast byzantine and repetitive forms. Now, the important thing to remember is that when I got the original letter saying my ESA was stopped, they said they didn't take into account any information from psychiatrists and mental health specialists. They saw the by-the-numbers report and decided that they didn't need to look at information from someone who knew what they were talking about. And they seem to be saying that the basis of my appeal is not that they didn't base their decision on all relevant information available to them, but that I have been diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome. Well, duh! I have been diagnosed with Asperger's, therefore I am applying for ESA. Not, "I am applying for ESA, and have somehow failed a bureaucratic test so therefore am giving you another bit of information."

Prejudice

Mon, 03 Aug 2009 22:09:20 GMT

I would like to share with you an article in today's Metro:

POLICE are hunting a masked gunman who killed two people and wounded 11 others when he opened fire at a youth club for Arab teenagers.
The attack in Tel Aviv sparked a city-wide clampdown and police warned other Arab clubs to close while the killer was still at large.
'We'll bring him to justice and exercise the full extent of the law against him,' said prime minister Benjamin Netanyahu. 'This is an unprecedented event for Israel and for the community,' said May Pamel the director of the Tel Aviv Arab and Muslim Association, where the incident took place on Saturday.
'We have joined the roster of "civilised" countries where hatred is the standard.'
President Shimon Peres also condemned the 'despicable murder', which 'a cultured and enlightened people cannot accept.' The victims were a 26-year-old youth counsellor and a 17-year-old girl. They were shot in a basement room where they were holding a community group meeting.
'When I got up it was horrifying, I just saw blood,' said 16-year-old Or Gil, who was shot twice in the legs.
Tel Aviv has a bustling Arab scene but open Arabianess is less welcome in the conservative areas of the Jewish state.
Thousands took to the streets over the weekend to mourn for the victims of the 'hate crime' and call for tolerance.

Unfortunately, that particular article is some years away. Substitute "gay" for "Arab", and you have the actual article. If I can see that there is no difference in the crime committed in each article, why can't Mr Netanyahu, President Peres, and all those thousands of mourners who think nothing of a prolonged campaign of what amounts to anything from racial segregation to ethnic cleansing to a new Holocaust against people they share the same land with, and were probably on it before them.

Mon, 27 Jul 2009 13:10:56 GMT

In the early hours of this morning my grandma died.

The same grandma who spent most of the last four years insulting and belittling me and my career choices.
The same grandma who called me stupid for doing what we had agreed I would do the day before (something which would help me get onto a career path more to her approval).
The same grandma who nearly sent me into Depression with her attitude and comments.
The same grandma who once bit me on the arm at a horse show because I was bored and didn't want to be there, and being 13 wasn't reluctant to make it known.

And I'm supposed to be upset?

And no, I won't be going to the funeral. Partly because it's in London, partly because I don't want to feel morbid (as it inevitably would make me feel), but mainly because I hated the bitch.

Fri, 26 Jun 2009 16:00:13 GMT

Michael Jackson's dead. Big deal. Get over it. Everyone's gushing about how he changed the face of music, how he was such a great performer, and so on. No one seems to be mentioning the fact that he bankrupted himself hiring lawyers to defend him from child molestation charges twice, had maybe three decent hits in his entire career which ended over 15 years ago, and was making a final comeback tour to try and finance his dreamworld lifestyle.

Washed-up celebs die every day, and you don't see this much hype about them. Move on, people.

Fucking bastards!

Tue, 02 Jun 2009 13:19:17 GMT

I am very pissed off.

I got a letter today. From the DWP, or whatever it's calling itself these days. It said that they had sent me a letter on the 31/05/09 (that I haven't received yet) telling me I am no longer eligible to receive ESA. To make this decision they apparently only used information from a all-purpose no-size-fits-all questionnaire that I filled in a couple of months ago, and the report from the DWP quack I went to see a couple of weeks ago to do a capability assessment. They haven't used any information from any of the doctors I've seen who actually know what they're talking about (my GP, the referral psychologist, and the Asperger's specialist at Sheffield), or any of the additional information we gave them. Instead, they've used a points-based system for analysing the pitiful information they have got, and going from the accompanying results sheet, most of that is bollocks!

Right now I want to go down to the DWP offices with a shotgun and an axe and try and put things in perspective for the twat responsible.

Asterix Chess Set

Tue, 12 May 2009 11:12:24 GMT

Anyone want to buy one? 'Cos I've got one on sale on eBay. 10% of final sale price goes to Alzheimer's Research.

Have Sword & Sworcery: Will Travel™

Sat, 09 May 2009 11:21:09 GMT

Just thought I'd remind you all about my books.

General information pages

Book I Please Kill the Neighbours (But Don't Piss Them Off)

Most nuisance neighbours can be dealt with by a court order. When your neighbour is a country ruled by an evil wizard, we recommend a demon.
Of course, you need someone ... disposable ... to summon the damn thing.

Meet Cullan and his companions, Alys and Kenyon, and follow their adventures when they're blackmailed into escorting Morgan, a gifted young mage, into a hostile country so that she can fulfil her Destiny.

Book II Finish the Job So We Don't Have To

Whenever you kill an evil wizard, there are three things you should remember:
1. Kill his bodyguards and sidekicks as well;
2. Steal all his treasure;
3. Have an escape route planned in advance.
So... Second time lucky?

A second chance arrives for Cullan and his companions to loot the Tower of Morss - not that they really want to go back there after what happened last time. Especially with an invading army in the way. Oh, and having to kill the three most well-protected people in a besieged city first.

Book III All's Fair in Love and Politics

Inter-monarchial relationships can be tricky things. There are all sorts of things to consider concerning alliances, succession, trade, and so on. Not to mention security - with all the travelling between two countries that will be going on, it makes it easier for someone to, for example, kidnap someone.

When Queen Elspeth is abducted on a state visit to Galorndan, Cullan and his companions are ordered to once again travel several hundred miles to find someone - this time to rescue, not to kill. Although, someone probably will need killing while they're in the area.

Lulu.com store
Book I at CreateSpace
Book II at CreateSpace
Book III at CreateSpace
The books on Amazon.com

You know where to get them now - what are you waiting for?

New Dwarf

Wed, 15 Apr 2009 14:35:24 GMT

According to the BBC Red Dwarf: Back to Earth pulled in record figures for Dave.

But let's look at it closely. A figure of "over 2m" is quoted as the audience for the first episode. This figure falls to 1.7m for the second episode, and falls further to 1.3m for the third. That's a fall-off of about 35%, which is NotGood, and indicates that the viewers thought it was crap.

The report also quotes a figure of 8m viewers for Red Dwarf at the height of its' popularity, back when it was on BBC2. Now, not all the fans of the originals will have digital TV, and not everyone who watched it last century was a hard-core fan. The specials had quite a bit of advance and pre-broadcast publicity - they weren't hard to find, in other words. So, from the numbers, we can deduce that the revival of Red Dwarf wasn't all-that hotly-anticipated, nor was it warmly received.

And that does not surprise me one bit.

Facebook

Sun, 12 Apr 2009 21:53:54 GMT

I've just de-activated my Facebook account. I hardly used the bloody thing anyway. The only reason I signed up was to give myself somewhere else to plug my books, and it is now unfit for purpose.

Book III now on sale

Sun, 12 Apr 2009 17:42:17 GMT

There was a slight delay due to the cover not being ready, but now Book III of the Have Sword & Sorcery: Will Travel™ series is now on sale.

All's Fair in Love and Politics

Inter-monarchial relationships can be tricky things. There are all sorts of things to consider concerning alliances, succession, trade, and so on. Not to mention security - with all the travelling between two countries that will be going on, it makes it easier for someone to, for example, kidnap someone.

When Queen Elspeth is abducted on a state visit to Galorndan, Cullan and his companions are ordered to once again travel several hundred miles to find someone - this time to rescue, not to kill. Although, someone probably will need killing while they're in the area.

Mon, 30 Mar 2009 15:40:42 GMT

Following up to my last post ...

Occasionally over the last few years, my paternal grandmother has seen fit to send me a substantial cheque once a year, partly, in her own words, as a means of avoiding inheritance tax. The year before last, she agreed to fund a couple of OU computer courses in lieu of a direct payment. I got prospectuses, I examined the options, I took all the details to her and explained them carefully, and she agreed to pay the course fees. The next morning she called me and urged me to rethink, as I "didn't have a brilliant track record of finishing things". I told her I'd already registered for the courses, as discussed yesterday, and her response was to call me stupid and put the phone down. Recently, I found out that two of her other grandsons have been diagnosed with mid-range Asperger's and full-on Autism.

This year's cheque arrived this morning, and I opened the letter it came in just a few minutes ago. This is what it says:

Here is a cheque for you for £250, which I expect you will be glad of.
I hope the interview with the Specialist that Elly arranged for you went well, & will be of some help.
Please have a sensible object or goal in life - discard some of the more bizarre ideas you had.

"Bizarre ideas" probably means being a writer and/or theatre worker.

I am literally shaking with anger. I would welcome any suggestions on how to best accept the cheque, and tell her to go fuck herself with a rusty piece of barbed wire in every conceivable orifice whilst being eaten alive by moles in a cesspit.

Diagnosis

Fri, 27 Mar 2009 17:55:37 GMT

"Brian, you definitely have Asperger's".

I went to Sheffield today, as part of the ongoing saga of me being diagnosed with Asperger's. After a 90-minute interview with a specialist, she said the above words, and relief flooded through me.

I am now one less step away from returning to humanity.

Crashspace in Manchester

Wed, 25 Mar 2009 07:40:35 GMT

I'm going over to Ireland in a month to check out the hotel for the IDWCon, and I'm flying out from Manchester (because Leeds-Bradford doesn't go to Shannon). The flights are in the evening, though, and the return flight gets in after the last train home leaves. So, does anyone in the Manchester area have some crashspace they can let me use, please? My flight is booked for Monday 20th April, arriving at 2125.

EDIT: Problem solved

Music meme

Sat, 21 Mar 2009 10:05:22 GMT

1) Reply to this post and I'll assign you a letter.
2) List (and upload, if you feel like it) 5 songs that start with that letter.
3) Post them to your journal with these instructions

I was tagged and given the letter "P" by cu_sith.

Hmmm.

Paperback Writer - Beatles
Paradise City - Billy Ocean
Park Life - Blur
Party Hard - Andrew WK
Pinball Wizard - The Who

BeerMonster

Sun, 15 Mar 2009 21:27:34 GMT

The last BeerMonster is up.

Stuff

Sat, 14 Mar 2009 22:02:52 GMT

'Tis Saturday, the day after the second Friday 13th of the year.

The collections department of the bank has rung me twice now since Tuesday.

BeerMonster#100 is due up tomorrow, and I still haven't thought of anything for it.

My sister has come round, and is helping me fill out loads of huge forms for benefits agencies and so on, in order for me to get officially diagnosed with Asperger's (and get some sort of benefits for it).

I'm selling stuff on eBay, if anyone's interested.

The third book of my series comes out in 3 weeks and two days (pre-orders close on the 22nd).

I have lots of stuff to mention at the IDWConCom meeting tomorrow, and probably no-one will thank me.

There are no jobs.

I think I may be getting Depressed again. Bugger.

New DiscWorld LJ

Thu, 12 Mar 2009 14:13:35 GMT

<a href=">http://clubdiscworld.livejournal.com/</a> It's not me running it, BTW.

From an online gamer's profile

Wed, 11 Mar 2009 01:40:06 GMT

A black man walks into a cafe one early morning and noticed that he was the only black man there. As he sat down, he noticed a white man behind him. The white man said, "Colored people are not allowed in here."
The black man turned around and stood up. He then said:
"When I was born I was black,
"When I grew up I was black,
"When I'm sick I'm black,
"When I go out in the sun I'm black,
"When I'm cold I'm black,
"When I die I'll be black.

"But you sir...
"When you were born you were pink,
"When you grew up you were white,
"When you're sick, you're green,
"When you go out in the sun you turn red,
"When you're cold you turn blue,
"And when you die you turn purple.
"And you have the nerve to call me colored?!"

The black man then sat back down and the white man walked away embarrassed...

The books

Mon, 09 Mar 2009 03:05:18 GMT

I've read a couple of entries on my f-list in the aftermath of Redemption. They got me thinking, especially after I followed the links.

I try to write in a balanced style. I also try to write what I know, and what I enjoy. I'm not going to write a book I wouldn't want to read - what would be the point? If I have to wade through it to edit it, I'm not going to bother. And also, given that my books were written during NaNoWriMo, there are inevitably bits where I'm just burbling around the first thing that comes into my head; which usually means sex, violence, or huge reams of statistical data to fiddle with to see if it can't be persuaded to produce a more favourable outcome occasionally. Yes, I'm like that.

So: Does my stuff pass things like the Bechdel Test? Are my female characters depicted as sex objects more often than they are real people? (I have, on at least two occasions, made my kickass female ninja lead pretend to be a prostitute, but they were both plot-necessary instances (mostly). I have also put one of my male leads through a not-entirely unwanted (for him) sex scene.) Is the way I write the interactions between my characters in their medieval-type society believable? Does it look like I've gone down the default path for choice of protagonist etc, or does it look I'm trying? Am I providing fanservice to both male and female readers (unlikely, probably), or does it seem like I've asked Frank Miller for advice?

Y'see, I don't know. I'm male, Aspergic, and I'm not even trying to write deep, meaningful, insightful literature (I leave that to Terry Pratchett), I'm trying to write something fun that you can lose yourself in for a couple of hours to give your brain a break. I'm trying to write the novel equivalent of a Golden Age Saturday-morning adventure flick, only, y'know, a little more plausible. I don't know if I've written The First Blast of the Trumpet for or against an entirely new mode of societal thought, or whether they're just airport novels.

Perhaps the fact that I'm worrying about this sort of thing is a good sign. Perhaps it shows that I not only want to keep my existing fanbase, but also expand it, by not only writing well, but also by writing balanced-y. So - could someone tell me?

Book III, All's Fair in Love and Politics, is released on Monday the 6th of April, priced just under £6 (plus huge p+p). Pre-order with me here, and I'll make sure you save on postage.

BeerMonster

Sun, 01 Mar 2009 21:35:40 GMT

BeerMonster has updated.

Now, have I got something special planned for #100?

Ow!

Sat, 28 Feb 2009 14:37:20 GMT

I was cycling home from the theatre last night, along the bypass, as I normally do. I can get up to quite a speed along there, maybe 20mph. About half a mile from the last exit, I saw a discoloured patch of tarmac ahead. Didn't think anything of it, why would I? I get to within three feet of it, and perspective dawns. It's a block, about four inches high, eight inches wide, and 16 inches across, and it's sitting square across the middle of the mini-hard shoulder where I ride. It's solid, it's grey, it's featureless, so I have no way of telling what it is until I'm right on top of it. Which is what I am now.

Thud! "Fuck! Waauuggghh!" Gngngng! "Unnghh!" "Aaaaarrrgh! Fuck fuckfuckfuck aaarrrgh fuck!"

The front wheel hits the block before I have time to swerve or hit the brakes, I get thrown left (fortunately), and leave the saddle. I get back down as the bike hits the verge, still doing 15mph. My feet are not in contact with the peddles, I cannot regain control, I know there's a crash barrier not far away, and I know I don't want to hit it. I try a flying dismount, something hard and pointy of the bike impacts my left shin as we both land, I roll away as the bike slides to a halt, and spend about five minutes writhing in agony on the verge. Half-a-dozen vehicles, including a motorbike, pass me without taking the blindest bit of notice. Bastards.

So, I get to my feet, test the weight. Good, nothing's broken, that's lucky. Where's that concrete block, I'm going to cart it to the police station as evidence? I find it, bend down to pick it up. It's gooey. That's not concrete! What the fuck is it? I peer at my goo-covered gloves. No idea. It could be the first invader from the planet Zog for all I know, but it isn't concrete, and it definitely shouldn't be where it is. Still, it's going to take a shovel to move it, so I'll leave it where it is.

I retrieve my bike and start wheeling it along the road towards town. My leg really hurts. I'm going to drop in at the police station and report it. Oh, wait, they moved the police station from a nice and visible place in the town centre, to somewhere else no-one knows where it is. Okay, tomorrow I'm going to report it. There's no way I'm walking my bike through town on a Friday night, so I mount up. The chain has come off, and is caught round the pedal. Jesus! I was lucky it didn't snap! Chain released, I mount up again, change down from top (which I had been cruising in along the bypass), and cycle through town. I get off again at the bottom of the final hill up to my house (as usual), and push the bike up. Tomorrow, I'm going to take my goo-covered gloves as evidence, and find someone to complain to.

It's tomorrow. I haven't been out. I can still walk on my leg, it's just a bruise and a small gash where something tried to impale me. If I hadn't been wearing long-johns under my trousers, things could have been a lot worse. And who exactly would I complain to? The police? Fly tipping is not exactly a priority, even if it has nearly caused a serious accident. The council? What would they do, send someone to clear it up, then forget about it. The Highways Department? A road-sweeping machine, which would have no effect whatsoever. I have photos of the gloves, though.