Undead Son

On the hillside you'll hear my roar. . .

10/19/14 11:24 pm - Proceeding

So The Forbidden Island is proceeding well.  Now is the point where I ask people who bought bonus scenes or cameos to start thinking about what they want, and I'll contact them this next week.  I posted a story on my fiction blog, and got some nice repsonses to it.  You can read the story Here at this link.

Traffic at my Patreon has been slow, but we'll see if we can't build that up.  Click on over and join if you can.  Every bit helps.

Spent the afternoon climbing around on the roof of my house.  See, our chimney started leaking badly over the summer, and so my father-in-law and I threw some tarps over it until we could get a dry spell to work on it.  The tarps finally disintegrated last week, and so we got up there today and patched it.  We tried this before with a patching compound, and it worked but it didn't even last a year.  This time we used mesh and asphalt, so we'll see if that works better.

If anybody is feeling generous, we are still kind of in a hole here, money-wise, so if you want to send over a few bucks, our Paypal is sargon999AThotmailDOTcom.  Anything you can give, helps us keep going.

10/8/14 08:42 pm - Dark Places

Not the greatest month I have ever had.  With the cut to our food stamps, we are suddenly operating at a deficit, when we were kind of already operating at a deficit.  Sucks, but I am trying to remedy that.

First off, I have started a Patreon account to go with my new Tumblr, which will be writing advice all the time, all-day, all-night.  You can check it out HERE if you want to.  SFW I promise.

The way Patreon works is this: you go on there and pledge a given amount, and when I post a piece of paid content the money goes through.  I am planning on just doing that once per month, and even if you were concerned about that, you can easily cap your contributions at a certain amount per month, so I cannot abuse your trust even if I wanted to.  I've already got some stuff posted, and you can read it all whether you donate or not, but every little bit helps us.  If we can manage to make up the $$$ we lost from our benefits, I will be pleased.  So go check it out, if you can.

I have also decided to open myself up to freelance editing.  I will perform critiques of work for the actually rather low rate of $0.02 per word ($25 minimum).  I will review stories, fics, chapters, or summaries/outlines - I am not picky.  I will read and then offer a detailed critique of character, theme, pacing, story elements, vividness, language and whatever else the writer is wanting me to look for.  If you are interested, email me at sargon999ATgmailDOTcom and we'll talk.

8/12/14 04:47 am - Huzzah!

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The good news is we made our goal.  Largely due to one INCREDIBLY generous contributor who is going to get one hell of a cameo, I can tell you that.

That said, we still have 69 hours left, and there is still time to grab a perk if you want one.  No reason to let it slip by.

8/5/14 01:29 am - The Forbidden Island Rises Again!

So we were way far from goal, and we got an extension from Indiegogo, which means we have 10 days left to hit our target.  The book is proceeding apace, and I think this crazy mashup of King Kong, Pirates of the Caribbean, and Tarzan is going to be a whole lot of fun.  I'm certainly enjoying working on it.

So please, if you can head on over to our campaign page and throw something our way.

Annnnd here's a little excerpt to give you a sample.  Our characters have been marooned on a savage island in the Indian Ocean, they don't really trust each other, and now they find the place is not as deserted as they thought...

The scream woke her up in the pit of night.  The fire was burned low and she could scarcely see anything.  For a moment Cecily was not sure where she was, sat panting in the near darkness.  She opened her mouth to call out when a hand clamped over it and silenced her.  "Shhhhhhh," a voice whispered in her ear.  "Keep quiet."  She recognized Buck's low voice and massive hands.

He let go of her and she turned to look at him, saw Simon and Ragland already awake, crouched by the fire.  She jumped as she heard something thud against the roof, sending bits of it rattling down.  She swallowed, turned to speak right in Buck's ear in the lowest whisper she could manage.  "What is it?"

"Don't know," he said in the same almost breathless voice.  "But it's big."

It screamed again, something primordial and terrible, an ascending shriek that cut through the night and seemed to go on longer than any sound made by an animal had a right to.  Cecily twitched as she heard something move across the roof, the spars and beams creaking.  She heard something paw at the sailcloth and she scooted back closer to Buck, just then realizing she was naked as the day she was born.  Her sweaty skin moved against his own, and she knew she reeked of sex.

"Stay down," he said softly and moved away from her, reached into a shadow and came up with a hatchet, gleaming darkly in the glow of the embers.  He paused for a moment, all of them listening to the low sounds of something moving around on the roof of the treehouse.  Then Buck passed her the hatchet and motioned toward Ragland, and she nodded and reached to hand it over while Buck dug around and came up with a keen-edged cutlass.

The frame of the roof creaked, and then they all heard the distinct thump of a weight landing on the ledge just outside the makeshift curtain.  Cecily crawled backward away from it, while Buck and Ragland turned to face it.  It was pitch dark outside, and little better in here, so there was nothing to show what was out there.  They all held still, listening for a moment, breathless.  A soft pattering fell on the roof, and after a terrified moment Cecily realized it was rain.  She heard the trees around them come alive with the sound of raindrops, and then something just outside snorted and growled, a deep and resonant sound that seemed to vibrate in her chest.

7/30/14 11:22 pm - Home stretch

Well, we've been in this situation before.  We are getting down to the wire and are nowhere near our goal.  Right now we have 5 days left, and $1610 left to make so we can make our goal.  Those are not numbers to cheer me up.  Yes we set a slightly higher goal this time, but not that much higher, and less than we have made in the past.

Now, if we don't make goal, things are going to get mighty tight around here, and there's no way around that.  There are a couple of things we can do.  We can run another campaign to try and make up the rest in a month or so, or we can see if we can get a time extension on this one.  Still, the most we could get would be 10 days at the outside - maybe not enough.  It depends on what happens this weekend, and in fact over the next few days.

So if you have been waiting to contribute, now would be a good time.  If you already have or cannot, please spread the link around!  This is how we live.

7/22/14 02:23 am - Just 2 weeks left!

And we haven't even made 50%.  I has a sad.

Click through and help us out!

7/16/14 02:11 am - The Forbidden Sneak-Peek

Another thousand words from the forthcoming adventure The Forbidden Island

There was a calm, and then the wind slammed hard across the deck and nearly took Cecily off her feet.  She staggered back and caught at a rope, held herself steady as spindrift was scattered across the deck by the wind.  She spat out sea water and felt a cold fear in her belly as she realized there was no escape from this - they had to ride the storm out, no matter what came.

She saw Ragland struggle up the stairs to the quarterdeck, Simon just behind him, and she nerved herself to head that way as well.  Then she paused as she saw in another flash the heavy form of Buck Lowry emerge from belowdecks and into the open.  Shirtless, his muscular torso gleamed, and the boathook in his hand flickered with St Elmo's fire as he hefted it in his right hand.

He faced the way to the afterdeck, which meant his back was to her.  Cecily fought her instinct to just hunker down and hide, looked quickly for something to use as a weapon.  There was a heavy rope block at her feet and she grabbed it, held the rope and hefted the wooden block, let it swing.  The ship pitched again and she fought for her balance, the wind whipping her hair into her face.  Rain spat down, wetting her to the skin.

Lowry had little trouble keeping his feet, braced himself on the rail and moved for the steps.  Cecily swung the block back up behind her and brought it crashing down on his shoulder - she'd been aiming for his head.  The heavy hook gashed his skin and the blow spun him off-balance.  He turned and she saw his face terrible and furious, in the lighting light.

Desperate, she swung again and he caught the rope, pulled just as the ship heaved beneath her feet and she let go, not even thinking about it.  She fell heavily on her backside, but Lowry overbalanced, yanking against her weight when it was not there, and he fell backward into the main hatchway, striking his head heavily on the edge before he plummeted out of sight.  Cecily screamed and covered her mouth, then a wave of rain came down and drenched her and she was shocked out of her terror.

She got to her feet, fought through the wind to the steps and climbed to the quarterdeck, where Ragland, Simon, and another crewman were fighting at the wheel, trying to get the ship headed into the wind.  Even this slight elevation above the main deck made the heaving more pronounced, and Cecily almost fell on her face.  She caught herself, looked up, and felt terror in her throat like a half-swallowed cherry.

Another ship loomed there, huge and black in the almost constant flash of lightning.  It looked three times the size of the modest Wayfarer.  The bowsprit seemed about to reach over and rip their sails down as it turned past them.  She saw men running on the decks, swarming over the rigging, and then, in a burst of storm-fire, the black flag unfurled overhead.

"Pirates!" she screamed over the howl of the wind, and Ragland heard her, turned to see and swore something so foul she was just as glad she couldn't hear it.  He spun the wheel, the other two working to help him.  She felt the ship turn under her, the wind clawing at her robe and her hair.  She realized just then why sailors kept their hair cut so short.

A wave broached the ship sideways and water rushed over the deck.  She spat it out of her mouth, saw it pour through the scuppers, and also down the unsecured hatchway.  She felt a chill in her guts as she realized what that meant.  They had not battened down for the storm, and with the main hatch open the ship would founder.

She looked at the captain, as saw plainly that he had all he could handle trying to steer the ship.  Where in hell were the rest of the crew?  The pirate ship loomed close in to port, and then they turned away and the water carried them away from it.  Cecily scrambled down the wet steps to the main deck and realized the main hatch was lashed in place forward, and she despaired of even getting it loose, much less getting it in place on her own.  It was immense and heavy, far too big for one person to handle.

Another wave struck and she was washed sideways, almost over the edge into the hold.  She caught a rope and held on.  The wind was stronger now, and she was afraid to try and stand up in it.  Lightning was a constant play overhead, and looking up she saw green sparks fountaining from the tips of the spars.

Then a hand closed on her ankle and she screamed, turned and saw Buck Lowry looking over the edge of the hatch at her with fury in his eyes.  He looked like a madman as he pulled her closer, so strong she could not resist him.  He used her to pull himself out onto the deck and pinned her down, blood dripping from his shoulder.

She shoved at him futilely.  A wave washed over them and she choked on water, spat it out.  "The hatch!" she screamed at him over the howl of the wind as water poured past them into the belly of the ship.  "Help me get the hatch closed!"

At first she thought he was too pain-maddened to even listen to her, but then she saw comprehension dawn on his face, and he looked around as more water washed over the deck and down into the hold.  He looked back to where the hatch was secured and she saw him swear.  With one hand, heedless of the wind, he dragged her to her feet and over to the hatch.  He drew a knife from his belt and pressed it into her hands.  "Cut the ropes!" he bellowed and then headed to the other side, pulling a larger knife of his own.

Don't forget to help us fund the book!

7/13/14 05:22 am - Well shit

So I went and checked my bank balance and the mortgage company took out waaaaayyy more than they were supposed to for our monthly payment, which i should be able to straighten out on Monday, but it has left our balance dangerously low all of a sudden with bills coming due.  If anyone wants to contribute to our flagging book campaign now would be a good time.

7/10/14 12:54 am - The Lone Ranger

I heard so much about this one, everybody did.  It was the Waterworld or Heaven's Gate of our times, with a pile of bad publicity before it even opened.  The reviews were awful, the box office was a black hole, and almost everybody was agreed that they hated it.  I did read some very spirited defenses of it, however, so I was curious.  After all, everybody hates on SuckerPunch and I love that movie so much I will fight people who talk shit about it.  So I was not prepared to take anyone's word for it.

So here we have it, and the major crime the movie has is that it's just not very good.  I mean, the production values are stellar, the action is well-staged, and the performances are workmanlike if not brilliant.  But you are constantly being jerked around by changes in tone that seem the result of too many rewrites.  Some parts are quite grim (A dude cuts out a guy's heart and eats it, and a lot of dudes get shot to death) and then you have silly slapstick like the titular character being dragged through horse crap and a guy shot in the ass and falling down to cry "My Gluteus!".  You also get Helena Bonham Carter with a fake leg that she hides a shotgun in, but that's neither here nor there.

Mostly you are just aware of highly cliched Western elements being played out more slowly and more expensively than has been previously done.  Much like he did with the Pirates movies, Verbinski is hitting all the iconic moments.  The problem is they have all been done a lot more.  Pirates had been out of cinema for close to fifty years when the franchise came along and thus there was a lot of half-remembered pirate bits to play with in new ways, but Westerns have been done more, and more recently.  You can't start with an opening right out of Brisco County Junior, segue into an ambush right out of 3:10 to Yuma, and then go all Wild Wild West for the climax.  Well, I suppose you can, but then you're going to end up with a mess like this.

It was entertaining enough, but it's like Frankenstein's movie, all stitched together from different parts that don't match.  Plus, Depp's character is a pretty egregious racist stereotype.  They try to weasel out of it by having the other Comanches tell the Ranger that Tonto is crazy and not to listen to his bullshit, but it doesn't really work.  There's not really any attempt to treat the Native Americans or their cosmology in any way respectfully, pretty much turning them into more sympathetic versions of the cartoons they have always been made into.

So the story is cliche, and drags.  None of the writing is really snappy, none of the acting is great (Depp is phoning it in) and at 2 and a half hours it goes on an hour longer than it needs to.  But despite the hype, it is not really terrible.  I mean, Jonah Hex was much worse, and the public has taken far, far stupider movies to heart and made them huge hits.  I could not be induced to watch Hex again by any means, but I would watch The Lone Ranger another time if someone else wanted to see it.  It was okay.  But I don't know how you can take all that talent and $260 million and just manage "okay".  That's some kind of feat in itself.

7/5/14 05:55 pm

Here's some NSFW shenanigans from Chapter 3:

Cecily backed up toward the bed, her hands shaking as she untied her robe and slowly drew it off.  Buck leered at her, licking his lips, and then he leaned down to growl in Simon's ear.  "Now you sit tight and don't make a fuss.  You try anything, I'll beat you purple and then give her to the crew.  You get me?"

He left Simon and came towards her as she shrugged out of her shift and let it drop, stood naked in front of him.  Her breathing came fast and hard, and she felt dizzy.  She looked at Simon and felt herself go hot and cold at once, dropped her gaze and then looked up as Lowry came close and put his hands on her.  She trembled as he ran his rough fingers over her skin, caressing her.  He squeezed her nipples and she gasped indignantly.

He laughed.  "Get on the bed.  Hands and knees."

Cecily burned with the humiliation of it as she climbed up onto the low bed.  She was just as glad to turn her back to him, but he would not let her, pulled her around so she faced the front of his breeches.  He unbuttoned them and she stared, half excited and half terrified as he took out the biggest cock she had ever seen.  It stood out hard and long and thick, and she unconsciously licked her lips at the sight of it.

"There's a missy," he said, running his fingers through her hair.  "Put your mouth on it.  You want to show me willing?"  He tapped her cheek with it.  "Show me."

She didn't have a lot of choice.  Cecily swallowed, then opened her mouth and plunged as much of his shaft between her lips as she could manage.  Buck groaned and Simon made a choked sound as she took him in, feeling his hot length pulse against her tongue.  She pushed down, taking as much as she could before she pulled back.

Her mouth was wet and she felt it drip as she slid his cock in and out of her mouth.  There was no way she could take it all - he was too long, and as thick as her wrist, if not thicker - but she pushed down, determined, tasting the salty skin, feeling it move under her lips.  She had never done this, never thought she would do this, but now she plied herself with a will.

He held her hair and flexed his hips, pushing in and out as she swept her mouth along his length.  She looked up at him, his cock sliding over her tongue.  In a moment of weakness she flicked a glance over at Simon and saw the anguish on his face.  Shame made her flush red.  That she would do this - this unspeakably intimate thing - for the very first time with this brute was utterly humiliating.

She flushed as she sucked at him, pressing her lips against it, feeling the skin slide over him.  He became slick with her drool, shiny in the lantern light.  He drew out of her mouth and rubbed the slippery shaft over her face - a shockingly crude sensation.

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