Bye Kimi

 kimicase

 

That’s Kimi. I’m packing her off for a while.

Before I taped her mouth up and shoved her in the case, here’s how it went…

It was a deathly day some months ago. Deathly grey, deathly dire, people I knew were ill and dying, and I had an itch, an itch to change direction.

I was alone when the itch came, editing a gruesome short about false love and devotion. Kimi was there, in the gloomy wings, as per always.

“I’m going nowhere,” she said, because of course she knew my thoughts before I did. “What happened to your book three idea, the one where I finally get a proper mission?”

“You’re sorry?” Now she was sitting on the dining table, legs swinging.

She looked let down, sad.

“An adult novel? God.”

Silence.

Brooding.

Staring at the floor.

She raised her pretty head and looked at me, a serious look, (which she always found hard to do). “If I had one wish…” She paused for dramatic effect. “…It would be…”

I raised an eyebrow, blinked, smiled, nodded, then grinned, because I knew she hated verbiage overload.

“Twat!” she said, puckishly, so I raised both eyebrows and nodded some more. She gave a slight smile.

“If I had one wish, boss, it would be that there was none of the censorship stuff, no stupid ratings, and that kids were encouraged to find literature, to discover, to learn, and to grow, not just as great humans but some as great writers, too.”

Kimi was beginning to sound like me.

“I do trust you,” she said. “I understand that kids will get their hands on whatever it is they want to read even if it means sneaking a torch under the bedclothes, but they miss out when so much is hidden away from them.”

“What do you mean you’ll be dead soon? Crap a corpse, boss, that’s just ridiculous. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. If you really want to write an…” she made rabbit-ear fingers and twitched them, “…`adult novel`, that’s cool, but you could easily write my next adventure at the same time.”

Now her eyes were wet. This was hard.

“Can I at least be in your new book? A whatchacallit… cameo?”

“See what you can do? SEE. WHAT. YOU. CAN. DO? You can do anything you want, isn’t that what you always say?”

“Why can’t you promise? I’m not happy about this stasis thing. I’ve got good stories in me, boss. Really good stories. And what about the fans, thousands of them bought my books – thousands. Not to mention the thousands more you stupidly gave away. You are throwing away a golden egg.”

That made me laugh.

“What’s it about, this new book without me?”

I saw the dead, the dying, the liars the gullible and the manipulators, the torture, the lust and abuse, and I saw in my mind’s eye flashed snippets of scenes waiting to be written of hurt and harm and the rotten dead amid autumnal settings, rich golds, mushrooms and intense brambles on the edge of decay. And crows.

“So what if there’s crows in it. How thrilling,” Kimi said. “Exactly how long am I going away for?”

I cringed – she screamed.

Tears came next, great hacking snuffles. Brought a tear to my eye, I can tell you.

“I hu-hope it’s not going to bu-be rude trashy stuff,” she sobbed.

“Good,” she said when I thought another promise.

“You won’t forget me, will you?”

How could I? Kimi’s adventures were as fresh in my mind as the day they were written, and the ideas for more were piled high and clamouring. Of course I would never forget.

“Well, I wish you luck,” she said. “And let me read it first before anyone else.”

“Course I will. I promise,” I said out loud and the dog looked at me funny.

“I don’t want you making a fool of yourself.”

“But your new book sounds cool.”

Bless her.

 

 

 

FREE “Kimi is uber-BOSS – it was like riding on a ghost train with the lights on.”

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What they said after reading both books…

“Kimi is uber-BOSS – it was like riding on a ghost train with the lights on.” Jen 17kimi

“This is new, exciting writing; filmic extravaganzas with plots to cry for.” Ange 33

“Have you sent this to Spielberg? You should send this to Spielberg.” Philip 57

“Those clowns gave me nightmares.” Charlotte 12

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Minds imploded for FREE until JULY 3rd

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What they said after reading both books…

“My mind imploded. Magnificent!”

“This is new, exciting writing; filmic extravaganzas with plots to cry for.”

“First I got scared of crows. Now it’s teabags.”

“One hit wonder? No Fear!”

UK

Kimi’s Secret: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B005ZCQ91W

Kimi’s Fear: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00A9R61N4

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USA

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Kimi’s Fear: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00A9R61N4

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GERMANY

Kimi’s Secret: https://www.amazon.de/dp/B005ZCQ91W

Kimi’s Fear: https://www.amazon.de/dp/B00A9R61N4

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FRANCE

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Kimi’s Fear: https://www.amazon.fr/dp/B00A9R61N4

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SPAIN

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BRAZIL

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ITALY

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Kimi’s Fear: https://www.amazon.it/dp/B00A9R61N4

Paranormal Fantasy – FREE BOOKS

Paranormal Fantasykimi

 

2 books 2 days – FREE – 3rd & 4th March

 

 

Here’s all the linky things:

UK

Kimi’s Secret: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B005ZCQ91W

Kimi’s Fear: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00A9R61N4

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USA

Kimi’s Secret: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005ZCQ91W

Kimi’s Fear: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00A9R61N4

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GERMANY

Kimi’s Secret: https://www.amazon.de/dp/B005ZCQ91W

Kimi’s Fear: https://www.amazon.de/dp/B00A9R61N4

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FRANCE

Kimi’s Secret: https://www.amazon.fr/dp/B005ZCQ91W

Kimi’s Fear: https://www.amazon.fr/dp/B00A9R61N4

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CANADA

Kimi’s Secret: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B005ZCQ91W

Kimi’s Fear: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B00A9R61N4

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SPAIN

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Kimi’s Fear: https://www.amazon.es/dp/B00A9R61N4

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BRAZIL

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Kimi’s Fear: https://www.amazon.com.br/dp/B00A9R61N4

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ITALY

Kimi’s Secret: https://www.amazon.it/dp/B005ZCQ91W

Kimi’s Fear: https://www.amazon.it/dp/B00A9R61N4

Don’t Hire An Editor… My Interview with a Vampire.

 

An interview with `Y` – a successful author.  

Define successful author.

Y: My Amazon royalties pay the rent and buy the groceries.

What do you think the key ingredient is towards making huge sales?

Y: My fans love my books, they know how I write.

Why do they love them?

Y: *shrugs* Everybody has fantasies lol. I guess they like the ideas.

The sex you mean?

Y: Yes.

All of your books sell well yet they have many low scoring reviews, most of which complain about flat or dumb characters as well as puerile writing. Don’t you ever want to put that right?

Y: Puerile???

Childish.

Y: I don’t think there’s anything wrong with the writing.

Perhaps you can’t see that but some of your readers obviously can. Are you a member of any writing groups where your peers might help you improve with the flat characterisation and the immature writing?

Y: I used to be a member of xxxxxxxxxx but don’t bother now.

Why not? The site you mentioned has a good review system in place. You could make your writing better.

Y: The writing is okay as it is.

Aren’t you interested in preventing those low scoring reviews?

Y: I really don’t have time. I’ve websites to look after and books to write. Fans are always demanding the next one.

I view the art of writing for the craft that it is. I can see its beguiling depths and love nothing more than to swim in its trenches of discovery, striving always to learn and improve, understanding that there is no perfection. Does the adventure of such discovery not twist your melons?

Y: You just said there is no perfection.

That was my point. The art of writing offers infinite possibilities and with a little effort on your behalf you could take your writing from puerile to great or even magnificent. Doesn’t that appeal?

Y: I don’t have time, like I just told you. My fans love my writing. They beg for more. I don’t need to improve anything.

What about pride?

Y: Of course I’m proud. I’m selling lots of books, something I’ve always wanted to do.

I’m talking about having pride in your writing.

Y: There’s nothing wrong with the writing. Those reviews are only opinions.

You don’t respect the opinions? If someone suggests the writing to be childish or the characters dumb and flat doesn’t it make you want to do something about that?

Y: Those reviews are only opinions.

So you have no pride in your writing?

Y: I’m very proud.

Of the many sales, yes, I get that, but you have no pride in your skills of the craft, would you agree?

Y: Maybe there are things that could be made better but I don’t have time.

That being the case we can break this down to a simple conclusion. You are like a vampire, leeching off the sexual needs of your clamouring readers, disinterested in improving their reading experience.

Y: Lol!

That wasn’t meant to be funny.

Y: I’m a successful author.

You are a successful salesman, but a mediocre writer.

Y: There’s nothing wrong with the writing.

Puerile?

Y: People shouldn’t be allowed to leave reviews like that.

Okay, let’s talk about the mistakes.

Y: Mistakes?

The typos, grammatical errors, continuity errors, punctuation errors.

Y: There may be the odd one just like any in any novel.

True, however, if we take your novel xxxxxxx as an example, there are glaring errors on every page.

Y: I think you’re exaggerating.

I can email you a doc with the errors highlighted.

Y: No thanks.

What advice would you give to aspiring writers who read this interview?

Y: You can’t use my name.

Why not? You have a great many sales with clamouring fans and many five star reviews, of which you say you are proud, surely our chat would garner more sales?

Y: I don’t need the publicity.

But your success is a perfect example of why writers should not hire an editor or a proof reader. Who needs such unnecessary expense when sales can be made without editorial aid. Isn’t that what you’re saying?

Y: I guess I am, but you can’t put my name to this.

I accept that your pride lies in making great sales, and I accept your conviction lies in churning out the next book, but shouldn’t you have the courage of your convictions?

Y: I don’t churn them out. I write for hours into the night, every day.

How long did xxxxxxxx take you to write?

Y: About eight weeks then another two editing.

You edited?

Y: of course.

Eight weeks for a full draft is mighty quick… I do think that could be classed as churning.

Y: Your opinion.

You didn’t answer my earlier question… What advice would you give to aspiring writers?

Y: Just write and get your books out there.

What about employing an editor or a proof reader?

Y: That’s personal preference.

I’d suggest it’s down to whether or not you have pride in your skills as a writer. If you want your writing to stand out, want to keep those review scores high, want to hold your head high, then you should attempt to bring some quality to your work.

Y: I am proud.

But you won’t hold your head high?

Y: I do. My family are proud of my success.

If you are proud enough to hold your head high then I can assume it’s okay to use your real name?

Y: No, you may not use my name.

Then I guess I can’t link to your books?

Y: No.

Pick a letter.

Y: Why?

Thank you for your time.

………………………………………………………………

There it is, folks. You don’t necessarily need an editor.

Simply determine where your pride lies and go from there.

 

 

 

 

Bargain Books for Halloween

This weekend is the first ever Tears of Crimson Halloween promotion, with more than twenty titles by 10 authors, all of them either 99c or free, a bigger bargain you won’t find this weekend.
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A Close Encounter with an Amorous Doctor

I had obviously thumped the wrong alarm button.

Waking two fuzzy-headed hours later than normal to the cheery shaking of my cheeks administered by David Tennant doing his coochy-coo face was a pleasant start to my day.

The dream fresh in my mind, I lay awhile and watched it again from the beginning.

It was the middle of nowhere, and the dead of a star-filled summer night – ideal for spotting UFOs or picking up transmissions from afar. Down a spiralling concreted road to a small brick building, that’s where I was. Computers beeped and buzzed (probably my alarm clock shouting at me); monitors showed the starry heavens, and a coffee machine fizzled its last for the night. There was a bed, a couple of chairs, and that’s about it. This was like one of those SETI watching stations as portrayed in the X-Files or Close Encounters.

I decided to give it up for the night, locked up and started the walk up the spiralling concrete road (to consciousness?) when something moving in the air, flapping, twisting, … “Is it an owl?” (or a plane?) I said.

“That’s no owl,” my dream-self said. “There’s people… I hear people… RUN!”

So I did. Back down the spiralling road, into the `bunker`, slamming the door behind me, but soon to be overpowered as a throng of scantily clad `ladies` surged through the door and jumped on the bed. (how they all fitted I’ve no idea)

They were dressed for a night on the town and then some, giggling, cooing, as if they’d had a few already. Then David Tennant arrived (no I do not have a secret fantasy), or more precisely The Doctor, complete with long coat and cheeky smile.

“Oh,” he said. “You’re not supposed to be here… I’m, uhm, I’m sorry, I was looking for somewhere to um,” he looked to the heaving mass of females on the bed and then back to me, “you know.” Then he put a finger to his lips. “Shhh, don’t tell a soul,” he said before opening the door and leading the girls out.

I ran after them, up the spiralling road (to consciousness?) and came to a stop by not one Tardis but TWO (Tardi?)

Neither Tardis was the one we all know and love. Both were fashioned in the familiar form of the blue police box, but the first was slightly wider, slightly deeper, slightly taller, had extra windows. The second, parked at its side, was huge. Three metres by three metres by four metres. HUGE. I stepped forward intent on opening the door.

“No – no – no – no – no!” Tennant said in his best Doctor’s voice. He grabbed my wrist, spun me round. “You can’t go in there.”

My dream-self did not protest. (I wonder if it was smaller on the inside)

“These are just for – ahem – nights out,” Tennant said. “Won’t say a word, will you?” he winked and flashed the Tennant grin.

“I won’t,” I said.

He gripped my cheeks and did his coochy-coo face. “You beauty!” he said, in the way that only David Tennant can.

The stuff that dreams are made of. What a wonderful world they live in.

 

 

buy Kimi’s Secret: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B005ZCQ91W

Danny Boyle’s Olympic Production? Been there, done that.

Three weeks ago, I sent my lovely beta readers 90% of Kimi2. The last chapter they would read is a scene of spectacular proportion; a filmic production on a grand scale.

Two nights ago, watching Danny Boyle’s visionary production opening the 2012 London Olympics made my jaw hit the floor, not only for the incredible spectacle itself but for the reason that some things were more than familiar.

In Kimi2, my grand production takes place on a grassy moor dressed with hillocks and standing stones, where many humans and greylians, gathered for this judgement day, watch from scaffolding seating as soldiers roam the scene, waiting for the ceremony to begin.

Seeing the surreal image of Boyle’s grassy mounds and the watching crowds made me smile. The similarity to my `imagined` Kimi scene was vague, but I could see it.

Back to Kimi2, and my `ceremony` kicks off with a mad Welsh woman singing and dancing. Then the moor begins to move, rumble, and huge stones push from the earth building into two enormous structures each as tall as three houses.

Boyle’s emerging chimneys stretched my jaw a tad.

Back to Kimi2 and the famoose arrive; rodents with wings, glittering wings, fifty thousand of them stream from the Welsh woman’s skirts in two lines of shimmering light, encircling the enormous stone structures.

Boyle’s luminescent, winged cyclists streamed into the stadium in two lines. I think I said: `Ha!`

Back to Kimi2 and (spoilers, darling) the big moment arrives. A surprise guest turns up via helicopter. Yes, her majesty herself, dressed totally in pink, addresses Kimi and has a little chuckle.

The Kimi2 scene ends with everyone looking to the air and watching a golden explosion of light.

When the Olympic rings raised above the arena and, erm, exploded their golden light, well, I went and bought some tarot cards.

Seriously folks, you couldn’t make it up.

 

 

Buy Kimi’s Secret: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B005ZCQ91W

Funky Fan Art!

Huge thanks to Becky Allsop for creating this most excellent version of the evil Moonface.

She’s pretty but with eyes that would stab you in the back and nick your liver given half a blink.

I’d like to see your version of Bentley…perhaps a trio as he merges from weeny to 12 to an old wrinkly like me.

Noooo – how about your version of Kimi?

Or better still Babbage complete with deformities and gloopy snot.

And crows.

And Stella.

And Big Sue wearing his snood.

And monkey Rehd, and Ruthie in a tutu.

Oh, and Patina with the swirly eyes.

And a Bellamy’s aunt before and after the implosion.

And Blavatsky with her wispy hair and piggy eyes.

I could go on.

Or how about a huge group shot?

I’d like to say I’m tickled pink but apparently there’s bliss flies about. Well done, Becky. That’s just brilliant! What a talent!

 

Buy Kimi’s Secret: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B005ZCQ91W

Close Encounters of the Nostalgic Kind

Andrew Lloyd Webber stoked me last night. (no kidding)

He’s a clever man, a genius, a bloke I admire very much. When he does his cheesy TV shows to search for Dorothy, Maria etc., I always watch and appreciate his talent. Currently he’s searching for Jesus, and I’ve been watching the show, however I only saw the trailer or the first time last night. And it stoked me – almost into flames, or even tears.

When I was a soft but thankfully not spotty sixteen year-old, I went to the cinema with my cousin, Mark to see the latest film they were raving about at school. Those weren’t the days when you had no shoes and it cost a jam jar to get in, this was later, the days when cinema seats had ashtrays on the back and people would bring a six-pack of McEwan’s Export to chug in the smoke haze and hopefully see a film.

Close Encounters of the Third Kind was the film. Stephen Spielberg excelled with faultless, enthralling storytelling. And that’s just it, even through the smoky fug it had me by the short and curlies and, I would learn, it would never let me go. Secret aliens with stick thin bodies and bulbous heads abducting humans. Spaceships and saucers, government secrets and – oh my god – the glorious Mothership herself with her explosive trombones!

I returned the next night and the next and again for five nights in a row until my pocket money ran out. The concept of aliens among us was huge, sparking within me a thirst for the paranormal, the supernatural, the things that can’t be explained.

I hooked up with Fortean Times, Unexplained magazine, devoured them and searched for more.

Then came the X-Files, the internet, Area 51, the Roswell autopsy video and its many spinoffs and conspiracy theories that would have me continually enthralled.

My search has always been, and still is, a sceptical, scientific one. Of course there must be aliens in our vast known universe; be they maggots or mammoths they must be out there but as for visiting Earth, I think not – at least not in my lifetime.

My love for the `greys` is a love instilled at an impressionable age and is now a part of me. To write them into Kimi’s Secret was always a mission and it was a delicious task bringing them to life as the greylians.

Getting back to last night, Lloyd Webber’s trailer stoked the fire:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vhrrPbC7z2U&feature=youtube_gdata_player

What a genius production.

~~~

Buy Kimi’s Secret: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B005ZCQ91W