Karavansara

East of Constantinople, West of Shanghai


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The Corsair and the Stray Cats

A few months ago I set up something that was to be called Seven Lives – a collection of my unpublished stories, seven, all with a cat somewhere, to be treacherously handed to my supporters on Patreon (because it’s good to be my supporters on Patreon ) and then to be grouped in a single volume, to be sold to raise funds for two stray cat shelters.

Arrived at the sixth story, three things happened

  • I was told that cats have nine lives, not seven, silly!
  • my current job as a ghostwriter overflowed and drowned me
  • a global pandemic hit us all

And so my plan for one story a month went hiwire, but only a little – and so the seventh story, which was scheduled for March, came out only today.

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Men (and women) of learning and of steel

Back in the day, I fell desperately in love with the writings of Mary Gentle, the British writer whose Rats & Gargoyles is still in my top five of favourite fantasy novels thirty years after I first read it. I have multiple copies of it, and the only time in my life I was mugged, the guy attacked me to steal from my coat pocket the paperback of Rats & Gargoyles.
A bibliophile-thief? A fantasy-loving thug?

In those pre-internet days, the only way to get everything Gentle had published was perusing the catalogs from Andromeda Books, and then mail an order (you know, with envelope and stamps) all the way to the UK, and then wait and pray the postman didn’t so something stupid.

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As if…

As if I had not enough already on my plate, compounded with a general lack of energies and a devastating lack of sleep, I’ve thought it would be good to use internet for something more than squalid self promotion and for mindless entertainment.

Like, there’s people out there that are having a real bad time – much worse than mine – dealing with the lockdown and its consequences.
Kids that used to meet their friends in preschool.
Singles holed up in a one-room apartment somewhere in suburbia.
People that have no one to talk to.

What could I do?
I am basically a writer and a teacher.
What could I provide for the community?
Any ideas?
Write them in the comments.


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Italian Low Fantasy – Kickstarting Brancalonia

The page for the Brancalonia Kickstarter is live, and the project was financed in about one hour. Color me impressed – and grateful to the fans.
There is still twenty days to go, and so the project might become huge.
But what’s this Brancalonia thing?

Brancalonia is a game setting for the 5th Edition of Dungeons & Dragons, a psaeudo-historical fantasy that taps the rich catalog of stories, folklore and ideas from the Italian middle ages.
Based on the same concept of the highly successful Italian fantasy anthologies Zappa & Spada (something we could translate as Spade & Sorcery), Brancalonia is a low fantasy setting, in which the players portray members of the Medieval lower classes, trying to eke a living in a world filled with dangers, both mundane and supernatural.

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The Watcher in the West

I have just delivered to my Patrons in the Five Bucks Brigade a 4000-words story called The Watcher in the West, the sixth story in the Tales from the Frontier series – stories that are exclusive to my Patreon page, set in a fantasy borderland between not-exactly-Mughal-India and Tang-China-but-not-really.

This story is special, because it is a reworking of a story I wrote for an open call at the start of the year, and was in the end rejected – despite being praised by the editors.

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Interviewed

Today I’ve been interviewed for a podcast – a panel about history and roleplaying games, in which I spent part of the time pushing Brancalonia, the low (and I mean low) medieval fantasy RPG that will get its kickstarter in a few days, and of which I am one of the masterminds.

It was quite a pleasant experience, chatting with other game designers and history buffs about what we do when we use history as the basis of our games – what we keep, what we leave out, and why.
There is only one question that keeps nagging me: how come that when I sit facing a microphone my voice becomes a croak, my already limited intelligence sinks, and in the end I can’t even spell?
Oh, embarrassing, very embarrassing.

But there, I did it.
And it would be really fun to do more spoken words stuff online, taking advantage of the quarantine and all that.
But then my voice dies, and my brain follows suit…


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Mediums of improving conversation, brilliant wit, and moral obligations

Some things never change. I get an idea for a story, I start doing a modicum of research. Three Letters from the Country (because I am going to write it!) is going to be a ghost story set in a country house and told through letters. Ergo, I research old country houses, possibly of the British persuasion, for a map and hopefully some interior shot (to make my descriptive work easier), and I do research letter-writing during the Victorian and Edwardian era (because I want my letters to be formally convincing).
And I take notes, because I am also writing an article about research for writers.

Photo by John-Mark Smith on Pexels.com

So, letter writing in the Victorian era… now that’s a surprising subject because we often forget that back in the time letters were all that was available for interpersonal communication. No phone calls, no emails, SMS, face time, voice chat… only letters.
And even a superficial search through the web reveals a number of things.

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