This week billions of you have become reacquainted with our TERMINAL DAMAGE collection, first discussed at this very blog.
The book is a collection of linked stories taking place in and around an airport during the holidays. You'll see characters from one story pop up in another story. Writing my own story was fun, and reading those from the others was amazing. Sometimes I forget what good writers I get to hang out here with.
As Erik Arneson said:
TERMINAL DAMAGE is a great collection of short stories. Chances are, you'll enjoy some more than others. Every story is entertaining, but the inter-connected nature of this book is terrific and helps the whole become more than the sum of its parts.
As this is the holiday season and folks are travelling, we wanted to re-share it with you. So for the past few days it's been FREE in the Kindle store. At some point, that free will revert to the 99c here in the states. (In the Britains, I think it's something like seventy-four stones. (I do not completely understand foreign currency.))
Also, NEEDLE magazine is having a signed giveaway drawing thing thanks to friend-of-the-blog Chris F. Holm. Find out about that here.
OK.
Now, something I wanted to share with you folks.
Patrick Rothfuss, fantasy author, is doing some really good stuff year-round helping people out via Heifer International. The church we found after the other church kicked us out for not hating teh gays enough was big into Heifer International. I like what they do.
So, anyhoo, Mr. Rothfuss is doing This Thing that is The Opposite of Black Friday. I think it would be cool if you checked it out.
Happy Thanksgiving. Unless you're British, where I think they celebrate Boxing Day instead. (I do not completely understand foreign holidays.) Also, a belated Happy Thanksgiving to our Canadian friends.
PS: Edge of Black from JT Ellison just came out. More here.
Wait... what's that? No e-reader? Email any one of us (i.e. me... davewhitenovels at yahoo dot com) and we'll work something out.
And what's it about? Well it's a bunch of linked short stories set in an airport. I'll let the cover do the talkin':
Imagine the worst day of your life. Now imagine that day in an airport. The eight authors of DoSomeDamage.com bring together eight stories of murder and mayhem in these linked stories -- tied together by a single, horrible visit to the airport.
From the grandfather in Joelle Charbonneau's SKATING AROUND THE LAW to a team of thugs from Jay Stringer, the stories here show what happens when all hell breaks loose on the concourse.
In addition to Charbonneau and Stringer, the collection boasts stories from John McFetridge (LET IT RIDE, DIRTY SWEET), Dave White (WHEN ONE MAN DIES, THE EVIL THAT MEN DO), Russel D. McLean (THE LOST SISTER, THE GOOD SON), Byron Quertermous (A LOAD OF QUERTERMOUS), Scott D. Parker (ROUND ONE), and Steve Weddle (NEEDLE Magazine).
Steve mentioned the other day that here at DSD headquarters we’re putting the final touches on a collection of short stories we’re calling “Terminal Damage,” and I thought for today’s post I’d put up the first few paragraphs of my contribution, “The Gladiator Resort.”
Some people who’ve read my novels may recognize the name of the resort as a place the bikers were opening up – a resort where in addition to getting a room the customer gets a woman. Of course, that’s too sleazy an idea even for me to make up, it’s based on a real place called The Viking Resort (here’s a link to a review, but be warned, there is adult content, though as usual when the word ‘adult’ is used it means the opposite of adult: http://www.mademan.com/2008/07/vikings-exotic-resort-island-babes-only-3900_31)
And the short story includes some of the characters form my books, JT and Richard Tremblay and makes references to others.
So, I have a question. How do you feel about this kind of loose association between stories and books? Does it add anything or is it just a distraction?
Okay, here’s the beginning of my story:
The Gladiator Resort
The plane was two hours late landing at San Jose, Costa Rica, JT saying they were delayed at JFK, place was locked down, “Somebody probably tried to bring shampoo on the plane.”
Richard looked at the two girls, blondes, maybe in their twenties but probably not yet and JT said, “No, no English, fucking Renzo. But they know the game, the skinny one gave me a blowjob in the bathroom on the plane, she’s good,” and Richard said, okay. He led the way through arrivals to the smaller terminal where the charters left from, saying, “It’s better these days, airports freaking out looking for ragheads with bombs up their ass, it’s a lot better for us,” and JT said, “If you say so, Gramps.”
Yeah, Richard thinking back in the day we needed the long hair and the tats and the colours, the vests and the patches to impress the kids like this JT, the hangarounds and prospects but then going out in the straight world was tough, really drew attention. Now they’d made their move into the bigtime, Richard and a kid like this JT could look like tourists, like fucking bankers. Didn’t even need bikes.
The Costa Rican pilot was waiting by the Cessna and Richard said to JT, “Come with us.”
In the plane Richard lit a joint and passed it to JT who took a hit and offered it to one of the blondes. She took a hit, handed it to the other one and when she went to hand it back to Richard he waved her off and she shrugged and took another hit.
Richard said, “They look like they’ll be okay.”
“Renzo said he’ll have two more next week.”
“Good. We’re booked for months, the place took off way better than we expected.”
JT said the website looked great, “The video is pro.”
Richard said, yeah, guy named Garry made it, real pro, “Real filmmaker, has movies out and everything. He’s going to shoot some pornos at the resort and he wants to shoot a real movie, some kind of indie.”
“Crime story?”
Richard said that would be too much of a stretch, crime at The Gladiator Resort, “What would we know about crime? No, it’s some kind of low budget sci-fi,” and JT said, “Low budget sci-fi with porn chicks, what’s it called Sex-bots in Space?”
Richard said, yeah, sort of, “It’s about this ship that crashes on a deserted planet, a few survivors but they can’t remember anything. The ship was carrying these robots, well not robots, Garry explained it, they’re alive like people, but they were programmed, six women.”
“Clones?”
“I don’t know, maybe, yeah. The ship was on its way to a mining planet so they figure they’re hookers.”
“The chicks do?”
“Yeah, and the guys, there are some guys on the ship, too, Garry and his fucking fag porno,” Richard laughed.
“He’s bringing fags to the Gladiator?”
“He says we should open a gay club.”
JT said, yeah, right.
“Then he tells me there’s a whorehouse in Vegas, you know, outside of Vegas, some Bunny Ranch shit, they’re bringing in guys to service women.”
“Guys’re gonna have to fuck some fugly chicks.”
“Garry said they’re calling them the prostidudes.”
“Nice.”
“But for the movie, I don’t know if he’s bringing fags or porno dudes or real actors, anyway, in the movie they figure they’re delivering these chicks to the mining planet.”
JT said, “We don’t deliver, the guys have to come here,” and Richard said, depends on the price, “You come up with enough cash, we’ll deliver.”
JT said, yeah, thirty minute or its free. “And we’d do a better job than fucking Renzo, we say they speak english, they’d speak english.”
Richard said, I don’t know, we’d say what the guy wants to hear, too. He lit a cigarette and said, “Anyway, Garry says none of the survivors can remember anything, so they’re putting this together with the evidence on the ship, whatever they can find. The computers are busted, so there aren’t any records or anything.”
“And he’s filming this at the Galdiator, I wonder where he got the idea.”
“Yeah, so it turns out the chicks are the ones in charge, they’re the people, and the guys, the men, they’re the robots, or these organic cyborg things, or clones or whatever the fuck and the chicks are selling them as slave labour to the mining company.”
JT said, cool, “Nice twist,” and Richard said yeah, you’d never see it coming. He looked at the blonde chicks, didn’t speak any english and said, “Like they might be in charge,” and JT said, “Yeah, right.”
...
And just for fun, here’s an ad for The Bridge in France:
I really like the way the show starts at twenty to eleven on Mondays...
When I was asked to join the DSD gang (and for those keeping score - they haven't revoked my membership card yet, so I guess it is okay to use boob references), I was also presented with an interesting opportunity. The group asked me to contribute a short airport fiction piece to be included in the upcoming DSD collection, Terminal Damage. Yikes! Short fiction!! A friend of mind who had been bugging me to write some short fiction was delighted. I was terrified.
Yeah, I know. I write 80,000 or more word novels....300 plus pages. So, why the angst?
Well, first of all, I don't read a lot of short fiction. (This is where I duck while all of you throw decomposing vegetables.) It's not that I dislike short fiction. I don't. In fact, I like short fiction. The problem is that when I get to the end of great works of short fiction I'm disappointed that the story is over. If I like the characters, I want the ride to last a lot longer. So, I tend to read novels more than short stories. I'm just weird that way.
Second, while I might not be as well-read in short fiction as my DSD counterparts, I've read enough short fiction to know that it takes a specific skill set. In 3000-6000 words (sometimes less as in the flash fiction challenge Jay just threw down) you have to capture your audience, give them characters to identify with and create a compelling plot that ties up by the end in a satisfying way. Not an easy feat. In fact, it's damn hard. So hard that when months ago a friend suggested I give the short fiction thing a whack, I made lots of excuses not to do it. I was busy finishing book three. I had Christmas presents to buy. The dog scarfed down my computer.
However, when presented with the unexpected challenge by the DSD boys, I wasn't about to let my respectful fear of the genre stop me. That would be, well, girly of me. So, I put on my big girl pants, opened up my computer and gave it a go. And yes....had a blast doing it. I'm glad that I didn't let fear keep me cowering under the bed next to my cat...oops...did I say the dog ate the computer? Oh well. The point is, in the months and years ahead, I plan on taking this genre out for a few more rides and hopefully improve my abilities to conceive short and concise, yet interesting and entertaining stories. But I'm going to need some help. Before I take the plunge again, I need to do some reading. Feel free to point clueless, yet earnest, me in the right direction. Who are your favorite short story writers, magazines and anthologies? What are the stories you love and that I need to read to show me how this genre is supposed to be done? (Feel free to plug yourself or shamelessly flatter my DSD friends.)
And to all you writers out there - do you like writing short stories? If so, why? And what challenges do you find while writing in this abbreviated genre?
