Karavansara

East of Constantinople, West of Shanghai


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The usual problem, once again

Yesterday I mentioned how my system is currently clogged because I am working on a top priority project that takes up all my time, and haunts me with guilt when I am not working on it. The fact that I have a funny wrist does not make things easier.
And as it usually happens, when I am overworked, stressed and busy busy busy, I keep getting great story ideas.

Only today I got two, bot fun and attractive, and both are the sort of story that sell themselves – if you know where to mail them.

The first story comes from an illustration I saw this morning, from a game that’s currenlty being Kickstarted – you find the details here.

I was discussing the image with some friends, and we came to the conclusion that, had a certain publisher set their eyes on a buxom Cthulhu-faced piratess, the history of Italian fantasy fiction would have taken a different turn, probably for the better.
And this of course screams the question – why not write a story about a buxom, Cthulhu-faced piratess?
Indeed, why not?

The other idea comes – probably – from reading a recent interview with Kim Stanley Robinson, and some of my current more-jaundiced-than-usual views on the worlds of marketing and coaching.
It would be a science fiction story, about the collapse of the capitalist system, as witnessed by an overworked secretary and a zen monk. It would be a positivist apocalypse story – one in which the end of one system actually ushers in a better one. And it would be a lot of fun to write.

But as I mentioned yesterday, I am currently clogged, and crippled.

So I just jotted down a few notes, waiting for better days.


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Clogged

Having consigned to the slow cooker an experiment of bacon, onions and chicken breasts, with occasional reed hot chili pepper, I am now idling and massaging my pained wrist on this windy day.
The wrist was badly damaged about twenty years ago, when I took my brand new bicycle for a ride around the perimeter of the Mirafiori FIAT plants. It was a nice summer evening and there was no traffic. An iseal situation, except for a small three-wheeled ApeCar that decided to take a very tight curve without signalling it, and pushed me on a storm drain grate and against the curb. End result: a bent wheel, and a fall on the sidewalk, that I managed to break with my right hand. And the wrist got messed up.
To this day, I have periodic pains, especially when the weather is windy and I have spent a long time writing. An elastic bandage does help.
The guy in the ApeCar did not stop or anything.

Having done my culinary duty to provide for a – hopefully – solid dinner, I spent some time reading the delightfully baffling Vampires with fairy wings, by Victoria Plumjob, a collection of Plumjob’s verse and meditations recently edited by the always excellent Rhys Hughes.

This is a welcome diversion, as I am somewhat clogged, at the moment, writing-wise, and also reading-wise.

I have a huge – and somewhat boring, in the early phases – ghostwriting job, and I will spend some time this afternoon going on with it. AS it usually happens, this important ( = paid) job is taking up all of my energies, and when I sit down to read, or to watch a movie, I start feeling pangs of guilt because, hey, why are you reading a poetry book instead of doing some more work?
And this also freezes all my other writing – because why am I wasting time with this on spec first draft, when I could spend two hours on that paying job?

But here is something that I found: if you don’t take a break sometimes, your brain will sooner or later ooze out of your ears, and you’ll find yourself posting right wing propaganda on Facebook and run over cyclists with your three-wheeled ApeCar.

I am better than that.
So I am forcing myself to take some time and forget about the all-important, urgent, pretty boring and already half-paid-for ghostwriting job. Getting away from it will allow me to do it better, faster and maybe even with some fun when I get back to it.
My wrist too will not be so much in pain by then, hopefully.
So, have a nice Sunday, and take a break.


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World Sleep Day

I just found out today is the international World Sleep Day, a day dedicated – you probably guessed it – to sleep. And as a chronic insomniac, I can really appreciate the need to celebrate this absolute basic human necessity. And had I known before, I would have devoted this day to sleep – in the last few weeks I’ve been able to sleep more or less soundly.

But I’ll make up for that later.
Right now, I think I’ll just devote some room to this idea of first sleep and second sleep – basically the theory (that seems to be confirmed by facts) that the “good eight hours” is a modern invention: people in times of old would sleep four hours, than wake up and do something for two hours, like writing letters or a diary, or reading a book, and then four hours of sleep again.
These are what are called first and second sleep.
And indeed, this seems to be a well-established pattern, verified by experiment: if allowed to follow a natural sleep cycle, a lot of people will fall in the four/two/four sleep and wake pattern. It is called segmented or biphasic sleep.

And I will have to try it sometimes.
But right now, I feel like I could sleep for 36 hours straight.
Good night!


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My first writing contest

I do not normally take part in literary contests – I’m too old to benefit from a newcomer’s award, and I am too young and too little known (and too alive) to run for a career or in memoriam award. Also, I had my fill, back when I was in university, of people that strutted around with a peacock tail of award certificates for their stories and poetry – usually awards handed out by the corner stationery shop or the local bakery.
I am also extremely wary of the “if you win we will publish you” awards from publishers – because that’s too often a publisher just doing their job (you know, publishing) but making look special what’s basically an open call.

Prejudiced, yes I am.

And yet, one of my works was longlisted for a major award a few weeks back (it did not go beyond the longlist) and today for the first time in my life I submitted a story of mine to a major writing award – the Baen Fantasy Adventure Award.
That is sort of a publisher doing their job but calling it special sort of thing.
But I did it anyway.

Why?
Well, basically because a friend posted on his Facebook profile the award announcement, and I happened to read it just as I had here on my desktop a short story, in the historical fantasy field, that might fit the bill.
There is no entry fee (which is good) and there’s a prize in cash.
And Baen is the publisher of a few of my favorite authors and books. It would be nice to be part of that.
And it would be silly not to try, right?

So here I am, at the tender age of 53 and with a good list of publications, waiting for the results of my first literary award.
It’s a weird world, uh?


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Buzz on Tint Journal

Tint Journal, is the online literary magazine for English as a Second Language (ESL) creative writers, and in the spring issue that’s just been published you will find my flash fiction Buzz, together with other 24 pieces by authors from all over the world. The map shows were we all come from.

I am very proud of being in Tint Journal, as my status as a bilingual writer has always been somewhat a gray area – something I am sure I have mentioned in the past.
But here we are, Buzz is here exactly because of my bilingual status.
And it’s a great thing being on Tint Journal, because this is my first “literary” publication. Yep, just like the real guys, I’m writing literature.
The story is illustrated with a very evocative work by Patricia Falkenburg, and if you are willing to run the risk, you can also listen to the story read in my own ugly voice.
The lot, for free – but I urge you to support Tint Journal on Patreon.