Over the last two years, I’ve been podcasting my novel, The Aldersgate here. I’ve also had a short story available, which takes place in the same world, entitled “Castledeck and the Arabella”. In spite of the fact that people have asked to give me money for the work I’ve done (which is truly sweet and thoughtful) I’ve never actually put up a donation button or anything. I haven’t felt it necessary.
But things have changed.
In light of recent events in Haiti, I’m asking you a favor. My friends Bart Leib and Kay Holt at Crossed Genres have proposed that we offer free fiction in exchange for donations to Haiti relief: a brilliant, brilliant idea.
If you’ve listened to Alderpod– if you’ve read the short story, if you’ve enjoyed Arri Gaffer’s recording of it–consider giving what you can to people who really need it, those people struggling through tragedy the likes of which we cannot comprehend, in Haiti. My mother spent almost a month in Haiti about four years ago, and returned with the most haunting, desperate, moving stories about that island and its beautiful people; that they have been made to endure yet another catastrophic event like this is beyond heartbreaking.
If every single one of you who have read the story before, or have listened to the podcast, donated just a dollar, we’d have close to $2,000! That kind of money could do so much to help.
No amount is too small. Join with us in responding to this tragedy to the best of our abilities by sending relief to Haiti.
“The value of a man resides in what he gives and not in what he is capable of receiving.” — Albert Einstein
Castledeck and the Arabella can be found here as .html, .pdf, and as an .mp3
The site has been in dire need of a little tidying up, and thanks to some art by the brilliant Brigid Ashwood (of whom I cannot say enough when it comes to her artistic talent) I’ve done a bit of a renovation! See: new background, new banner! And the best part? I did it myself, with CSS. And the site did not implode, the world did not end, and I’m actually happy with the results. For reasons I can’t quite comprehend, I’m far better at designing things on Pages than I am with Photoshop…
I also have a new tagline: Steampunk. Fantasy. Western. I mean, that really does sum up the whole thing, doesn’t it?
At any rate, watch this space! More meandering steampunk chatter, and some thoughts about writing weird west to come soon!
“I’m no more a knight than I am an ass, though I suppose at times there has been sufficient argument to support the latter claim.” – Emry Roy, from Chapter Five of The Ward of the Rose
Well, since finishing Alderpod a few months ago, it’s been a little quiet around these parts! I’ve been very much in writing mode and, until about a month ago, I’d been working on a variety of projects that had little or nothing to do with steampunk (or, else, they do, but my reasoning for thinking of them in such ways is as long and convoluted as possible, not the sort of thing to lend itself particularly well to the blog).
But now, back into the fray. First and foremost, I’m working on The Ward of the Rose, the sequel to The Aldersgate, as we speak. But I should point out that I’m working slowly and steadily. It’s been absolutely thrilling to return back to the setting of the story, and I promise to post some snippets of the story as it progresses. I recently scrapped about 30K of the original sequel, finding that I started much too late in the book and was skirting some rather important issues. That’s been resolved.
Also, I’ve noticed a recent uptick in Alderpod subscriptions. Thanks to those out there listening to the story, again or for the first time. I think all the technical issues are finally resolved! Also thanks to the reviewers, too. I don’t know what the future of the book is, but I promise I’ll keep you posted. The support and encouragement from readers of the last two years has been absolutely remarkable. I certainly never anticipated that my little podcast would do much, but I’m so glad it’s introduced me to some of you.
I’ve also been writing quite a bit of weird west stuff lately, in short story form, and I’ll let you know if and when you can find them. While not always steampunk, they’re all definitely Neo-Victorian, since they take place in a fictional alternate Arizona of the 1880s. You can get a glimpse of that world in “The Brass Pedestal” which was in Steampunk Tales #4 (which isn’t in Arizona itself, but what’s now Missouri… but it’s not called that since… well, I won’t get into that just yet!).
At any rate, expect more in this space in the weeks to come. I’ve got lots of ruminations on steampunk to share, and am definitely looking forward to the year, and the words, ahead.
From Chapter One of The Ward of the Rose
“It is your decision to make,” Cee said with a sigh, matching that of her grand-niece’s almost tone for tone. She folded her hands and leaned on the railing, gazing across the slope into the fog. “Let no one make it for you, dear Coralie. Gem will be with you always, and Professor too, I think. For as difficult as your journey here has been, you are standing at a crossroads of fortune.”
“Fortune?” asked Cora, almost laughing.
“As you said. There is war, there is discussion, there are decisions to be made. And you are not alone in this. While Maelys is concentrating on the Ardesian threat, and the growing Soderon force, the fact that one Alderclass girl has escaped her grasp will likely pale in comparison to what she must do. For now you are safer than you were before. Though I fear Renmen and Gawen do not agree on the course of the Order of the Asp… they will likely both try to win you to their sides.”
“Because of what I can do,” Cora said, staring down at her hands. She flexed her fingers, then curled them against her palms.
“You are a boon no retinue would want to let go—a key to health and restoration,” Cee said, dropping her voice. “But listen well to their arguments, and make your own choice, whatever it will be.”
“I wish you could come with me,” Cora said, turning to Cee. Tears came, and she tried to hide them, but Cee saw and put her arm about her shoulders.
Cee squeezed Cora against her. “I’m an old woman, Cora. My adventures are at an end. For now, I will pick up the pieces of my ranch here, help those servants and workers I have left put the fragments of their lives back together again. My place is here.”
“It must be good, in a way, to have such a place,” Cora said.
“You may yet someday, Coralie. You may yet.”
