Oysters, Pearls & Magics and The Basics of Flight are free.
28 Oct 2012 Leave a comment
Pictures as promised:
Also: Talked about PUBLISHING. Locally, internationally and in between. Traditional vs self. Editing. Blurbing. Genres. Synopses, query letters and pitches. Yes, it ain’t a free lunch out there, folks. (EDIT: Also, before I forget – self-promotion and marketing for the author. Book trailers and stuff. Be yourself, folks. Just be yourself.)
And of course, AYAM CURTAIN.
25 Oct 2012 Leave a comment
One: AYAM CURTAIN cover reveal!.
Three: For Rider readers, it will be out probably after Singapore Writers’ Festival, mid-November!
24 Oct 2012 1 Comment
Launching at Singapore Writers Festival, 4PM on Sunday, Nov 4 in the ilovebooks.com Pavilion at SMU (Singapore Management University).
23 Oct 2012 2 Comments
I have had the pleasure of reviewing Cloudywind/Rhys Leong‘s comic White-Chans Go Tour Liaoz…and found myself loving the cute white mice. I first encountered the White-Chan mice when their creator illustrated the Green and Lady White stories. I love the humor and honest observations about travel and Singaporean life (if you check out the blog).
White-Chans Go Tour Liaoz takes you around Asia, such as Taiwan and Siem Reap. I have to admit, the photographs make me salivate – I like to eat, you know. At the same time, I love looking at travel photos. The illustrations make the experience more fun and true. Dusty roads? Check. Yummy food? Check? Different cultures? Check.
I am a supporter for local artists and writers. Five thumbs up for the comic!
21 Oct 2012 Leave a comment
Many grateful thanks to Ashtoreth Eldritch:
19 Oct 2012 Leave a comment
At the meantime, get some Wolf At The Door merchandise.
If you are new to the Jan Xu series, start here. Hopefully, Wolf At The Door will be printed… eventually, with a new cover.
17 Oct 2012 Leave a comment
This was what I was experimenting with earlier. Oven-dried tomatoes, now happily soaking in olive oil:
Now, back to your regular programming.
My story, “Metal Can Lanterns”, will be published at ISF No. 1.
14 Oct 2012 4 Comments
(Or “A dakini dame walked into my office…”)
A dakini dame did walk into my office, metaphorically. She sat down, blue fur rippling like some midnight blanket, and glared at me with her three amber eyes. Write this, she commanded me, write about my truth. So, I chewed on my cigar and asked about the fees. A decent detective still needed to eat and pay the bills, right?
She only smiled, showing her sharp teeth. You will have peace for the next few weeks, she promised. And that promise was my payment.
Ninety-percent of the above is true. A dakini dame did walk into my mind and refused to go away. What is a dakini you might ask? A sky dancer, if you want to be poetic. A wrathful protector, if you want to talk about Tibetan Buddhism or – more in depth, the Bardo (or the Tibetan Book of the Dead).
The dakini came in and made herself comfortable in the office. That happened after I checked what weird noir is and got a better idea (or picture). Then the images started arriving like sleep-drunken passengers on a transit flight… and refused to budge.
No, I didn’t set fire to the rain. I sat down and wrote the hell out of it. It was fun. It was weird. It was weird fun. I really enjoyed writing the dark world of the dakini and her friend. I planned for noir and it went south to the land of the weird. Toss in the fact that I like reading about dark worlds (Warhammer 40k, anyone?)… and the story became … well, you need to read it to find out, yes?
Many thanks to Kate for inviting me to contribute to Weird Noir.
It is awesome.
And the dakini… she’s still there.
Psst, get Weird Noir, published by Fox Spirit.!
Psst, the awesome cover art is created by S.L. Johnson.
12 Oct 2012 2 Comments
I dedicate this one to Jaymee and our love for the garra rufa.
The tropical rainforest hums with green sap, brown loam and other songs of animals and insects. Here a tall tree covered with lianas, there bushes – the colors of emerald and earth – cover the slopes of a contoured hill. A gurgling stream bisects the borders of the green land and divides real from unreal steel.
She glides in gracefully, her robes tucked around her like a flying fox’s wings. A cold draught hisses in, like an exhalation, like long-held breathing.
The pool is there. It shimmers invitingly, a bowl-shaped indentation to sink in and lose herself in the green-peridot-green-brown world.
Her robes slide off, shedding the outer skin. She stands in her naked skin, the wind kissing her exposed flesh, whispering through the valleys and crevices of her body.
Outside the gurgling stream lay star-streams and slip-streams.
She slides into the water, slipping into the warm water. Bubbles fizzle about her. They tickle and make her laugh. She tosses aside her mask. No more starship captain. No more iron lady.
As usual, they come. Tiny tiny fish, the colors of silver, black and brown. They are the guardians of this forest. They clean.
She closes her eyes and subjects herself to their teeth, their rough-tender caress.
She will rise, clean, tender and new once more.