Back in 2011 I sold my second short story, Intellectual Property, to Interzone. Though my second sale, it was the first to appear in print.
Well, you can now hear that story narrated by the awesome Austin Learned over at StarShip Sofa. Hearing one of your own stories narrated is a real trip. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Give ‘er a listen and then drop back to let me know what you thought.
No, seriously, I need a drink.
StarStarShip No 427 Michael R. Fletcher and Mark Zastrow
For the last while I’ve been working, looking for work, and writing whenever I can sneak in a few moments. I grab the guitar any time my brain needs a breather and noodle away at whatever riff is on my brain. Lately I’ve been making some funky jazz-type noises. It took a while to track this stuff as there is diddley time left in the day after the other stuff and family, but here it is. The drums are pretty simplistic and you’ll hear a few flubbed notes because I don’t have time to edit it or do multiple takes, but here it is in it’s nasty glory.
And me being me I couldn’t just leave it jazzy. Somehow the metal snuck out.
My daughter is home sick and we’re all but snowed in and what I really want to do is eat grilled cheese sandwiches and drink whiskey but whatever the hell is going on in my GI tract is not a fan of grains or fat or whiskey and so I’m eating salad and fruit and writing a rambling run-on sentence about it. I have been completely sober for four days and I must say, I’m not a fan.
I’ve been thinking about how the interaction between authors and readers has changed in the last decade or more. When I first got into fantasy (back before Jesus rode dinosaurs, when the world was still flat) there was virtually no way to interact with a writer beyond going to conventions. As I lived out in the boonies of Ontario that was pretty damned unlikely to happen.
Writers were a mystery to me. All I knew about them was the little ‘about the author’ blurbs sometimes found in the backs of books. That’s what I was accustomed to and so that seems normal. But times have changed. With internet and social media being so entwined with society, there is a lot of pressure on writers to be accessible in a way there never was.
Mick Farren was a Bacchanalian Dionysian god. He wrote about drugs and booze and rampant gods and devastated realities and he was his books. I never met the man, I have no idea what the truth is.
Is that mystery better than the truth? I have no idea. Would I have liked Mick even more if I’d had the chance to chat with him on Twitter? Maybe.
I’m torn. As a reader I love that I can interact with my favourite authors and that writers like Mark Lawrence, Kameron Hurley, Django Wexler, Teresa Frohock, Marc Turner, Brian Staveley, and so many others are so approachable.
As a writer I wonder if I’d be better off to remain mysterious.
Come to think of it, I’ve had folks send me fan mail and share their Beyond Redemption-inspired art (look left) and I am so grateful for these amazing gestures. I think that wins it for me. Having the chance to hear what so many folks think about my books is an opportunity the writers of the previous age did not get to enjoy.
Okay. Screw the mystery.
Well mostly. Maybe I’ll lie about a few things now and then just to keep folks guessing.