I have a new short story online today. It’s called Two Hands, Then Four and it took second place in the Descending Darkness short fiction contest (under 1500 words). (Nothing strange happens on these pages except for some weird floating text associated with the mouse, but be warned that other pages — eg news — initiate raucous sound that may not be work friendly)
The story was written a couple of years ago and I didn’t do much with it until I saw the announcement for this contest, so I sent it in. Hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think, one way or t’other.
It was a nice weekend here — hot, of course, but the humidity was unusually low so the heat was tolerable. Unfortunately, the area has been invaded by houseflies lately (
). Mostly harmless, as Douglas Adams might say, but annoying as heck when you’re eating outside. We had a picnic at the local lakeside park on Saturday afternoon and they were over us like, well, exactly like the common simile would have it.
I finished two books this weekend. The first was Swastika, the upcoming Special X novel from Michael Slade, which, as you might guess from the title, has World War II implications. The second was The Third Translation, which involves an Egyptologist — really more of a cryptographer — trying to elucidate a third meaning to a text covered stela.
I’m also still working on Missing Persons. Ripping things to shreds and then putting them back together again. There’s a bit in The Third Translation about a bridge in Cambridge built by Newton without any fasteners. It’s held together by friction and gravity. Some scientists took it apart later and then discovered they couldn’t figure out how it worked and had to use nails to hold it together when they were done. Cursory Googling hasn’t turned up anything about this bridge in real life, but I liked the story and couldn’t help but see an analogy to what I’m doing with my edits at present — desperately hoping that after I take this thing apart I know how to put it back together again!
How was the Slade? I kind of gave up on the series after Primal Scream, which I thought was so atrocious that it turned me off to Slade entirely.
Death’s Door was absolutely awful. It actually tarnished my memories of Ghoul and Headhunter.
Slade is a little outlandish for some people, but his demented psychotic villains are all based, at least in part, on real people he’s encountered during his work as a defense attorney who specialized in the insanity plea.
This is a more personal book, because it was inspired in part by Slade finding out more about his father’s WWII record. I think he does a far better job of integrating his copious research this time because it becomes story background, and he has never yet failed to foil my best efforts to solve the whodunit. I like Slade’s stuff — it’s fun. Over the top? Sometimes, but that’s okay by me.
I have no problem with over the top. I just have a problem with books that give me the finger for ever being a fan of the series, and that’s what Primal Scream did. I have the four books that come after, but I haven’t even been tempted to read them.
I don’t think Slade’s a very good writer at all, no matter who comprises the team, but his twisty plots always kept me riveted. After PS, though, I just walked away.
Swastika has some very good plot twists, and they’re all completely fair and above board. He had me going in the wrong direction constantly, and I’m usually pretty good at this sort of thing.