Rating: PG
Story: Radial: Unravel
Word Count: 100
Summary: It's an important day for Milos, but if he doesn't stop fidgeting Alex might just feed him that envelope. But he can be supportive too... in his own way.
Milos fiddled with the envelope, folding its corners until Alex glowered at him. “Either open it or put it away.”
Thursday, 14 August 2014
Wednesday, 13 August 2014
Day 3 - Desiderium
Rating: PG
Story: Radial: Unravel
Word Count: 100
Summary: Alex is obsessive about keeping his files in order, but there's one he's willing to let slide.
Two office moves and the file was still in Milos’s drawer, not in the cabinet.
Story: Radial: Unravel
Word Count: 100
Summary: Alex is obsessive about keeping his files in order, but there's one he's willing to let slide.
Two office moves and the file was still in Milos’s drawer, not in the cabinet.
Tuesday, 12 August 2014
Day 2 - Brusque
Rating: 15
Story: Radial: Unravel
Word Count: 100
Summary: In most fighting partnerships, there's always one person who gets the crap kicked out of them on a regular basis. Guess who it is in Milos and Alex's? But Milos has his own ways of getting revenge, one way or the other...
The wall felt no better the third time Milos crashed into it than it had the first. “Ah, f...”
Story: Radial: Unravel
Word Count: 100
Summary: In most fighting partnerships, there's always one person who gets the crap kicked out of them on a regular basis. Guess who it is in Milos and Alex's? But Milos has his own ways of getting revenge, one way or the other...
The wall felt no better the third time Milos crashed into it than it had the first. “Ah, f...”
Monday, 11 August 2014
A Challenge, And A Story - Cat's Paw
I've fallen out of the habit of writing recently, which means I've got a whole lot of no progress whatsoever going on. So I've challenged myself to write a piece of flash fiction every day for a week, inspired by the Dictionary.com Word Of The Day. This is basically the significantly less breakdown-inducing version of the original Pax's Ridiculous Writing Challenge.
Which should be interesting, if only for me.
Today it's from Unravel, a series of stories about Milos, a dokkalfa experimental bioweapon working for a shady semi-governmental body. (You can find out more by visiting the "Unravel" tab up top there.)
Rating: G
Story: Radial: Unravel
Word Count: 100
Summary: A short exchange in the elevator does nothing for Milos and Marrok's relationship.
Lifts were awful enough, Milos decided, when they held just him. To be crammed into one with Marrok was plain torture, and his former boss clearly agreed.
Which should be interesting, if only for me.
Today it's from Unravel, a series of stories about Milos, a dokkalfa experimental bioweapon working for a shady semi-governmental body. (You can find out more by visiting the "Unravel" tab up top there.)
Rating: G
Story: Radial: Unravel
Word Count: 100
Summary: A short exchange in the elevator does nothing for Milos and Marrok's relationship.
Lifts were awful enough, Milos decided, when they held just him. To be crammed into one with Marrok was plain torture, and his former boss clearly agreed.
Tuesday, 15 July 2014
The Destruction of Kirill - Launch Day and Giveaway!
Today's the day my first published m/m novella, The Destruction of Kirill, is released! It's been a bit of a headache all the way through its life, starting from the fact it took me about a year to even start writing it, to things accidentally going 'live' before they were supposed to (I'm looking at you, Amazon), but we've got here in the end.
If you're curious, missed the previous post, or you've not seen me freak out over Twitter yet, here's the synopsis:
If you'd like an excerpt, you can find one from Chapter 4 over at the announcement page. And, if any of that whets your fancy, you can pick up an ebook copy at any of the usual suspects:Born in the workhouse and moulded into an obedient slave, Kirill expected his life to be simple: serve his wealthy owners until they grew bored and sold him, repeating the process again and again until the day he died. He never wanted his master's precious only son to take an unhealthy interest in him, and he didn't expect one single horrifying summer's day to plunge his life into ruin.Now he has to adjust to another kind of life: one with a man who never wanted to own a slave and has no use for the one he now possesses. But just when Kirill thinks he's finally found normality it all comes crashing down again—and worse, this time it's all his own fault.Hauled into a world of chaos and destruction by a charming stranger, Kirill struggles to manoeuvre his way without letting both his past and his grief overwhelm him, but is his rescuer all that he seems, or has Kirill walked from one hell straight into another?
In addition, due to the fact that people were kind (or brave) enough to preorder TDoK on All Romance eBooks, the ARe Edition comes with an exclusive bonus chapter. It's not something I'm likely to do again, so don't worry about that, but for a début release from a completely unknown author, that anyone would want to preorder it at all meant a lot to me.
I think I mentioned something about a giveaway before, didn't I? Here it is: you can win an autographed paperback copy of The Destruction of Kirill, an antique brass style handmade necklace and a print and / or digital copy of the ARe Edition extra chapter (depending on whether you want both, or just one or the other).
It's easy to enter: you simply enter your email in the Rafflecopter box below. After the contest has ended on the 26th July, I'll email you to get your physical mailing address and I'll post out the package on the 2nd August. Please make sure it's a valid email address and one you actually check; if I email you and you've not replied before Thursday at the latest, I reserve the right to select another winner.
If you've got any questions please don't hesitate to contact me via one of the methods on the right, and good luck.
If you've got any questions please don't hesitate to contact me via one of the methods on the right, and good luck.
Tuesday, 8 July 2014
The Destruction of Kirill
It's been an interesting, albeit rocky experience: it's the first story I've ever plotted out in its entirety—which both almost killed it and is the only reason it's finished—and working on the cover necessitated buying a new PC to save my laptop from certain doom, but after everything it's done.
I became very attached to Kirill and Niko while I worked on this, and I really hope that readers will too!
The Destruction of Kirill will be out on the 15th July 2014, and you can preorder copies on Kobo US and Kobo UK, Google Play, Barnes & Noble, iTunes US and iTunes UK. Other retailers will become available after the release date.
As a thank you for preorders, there's a special edition copy available at All Romance Ebooks that comes with an exclusive bonus chapter.
Synopsis
Born in the workhouse and moulded into an obedient slave, Kirill expected his life to be simple: serve his wealthy owners until they grew bored and sold him, repeating the process again and again until the day he died. He never wanted his master's precious only son to take an unhealthy interest in him, and he didn't expect one single horrifying summer's day to plunge his life into ruin.
Now he has to adjust to another kind of life: one with a man who never wanted to own a slave and has no use for the one he now possesses. But just when Kirill thinks he's finally found normality it all comes crashing down again—and worse, this time it's all his own fault.
Hauled into a world of chaos and destruction by a charming stranger, Kirill struggles to manoeuvre his way without letting both his past and his grief overwhelm him, but is his rescuer all that he seems, or has Kirill walked from one hell straight into another?
Excerpt
Reuben Gamble was two years older than Kirill. He’d heard about the handsome only son of his master and mistress, naturally—always in glowing terms—but had never met him. School and university kept that illustrious young man from home, and even when he’d visited Kirill had never set eyes on him. He’d been too busy working to pay attention.
Only when Reuben returned in disgrace did Kirill learn the master’s son had been employed for two years after university—not that it seemed he’d been too occupied with work. The servants discussed it at length; with his room just off the kitchen, Kirill couldn’t help but hear the late-night gossip even when he tried not to listen. The tales mostly centred around rumours of debauchery and drunkenness, gambling, late-night carousing and no-shows at work, all of which led to Reuben’s expulsion amid a cloud of debt. All was retold in such salacious detail Kirill wasn’t sure any of it was accurate. Not only did he not want to listen, but all the gossip made him nervous. The less he knew about his master and mistress, and by extension their offspring, the better.
Despite Reuben’s return to the fold, however, life carried on as normal. Kirill helped with the added washing and ensured one extra room was spotless every morning while the family was busy. The most he saw of the master’s son was the occasional glimpse; with his eyes kept down and every hour not spent at his mistress’s side focused on work, that was all Kirill was ever likely to see.
Everything was as it should be. Until it wasn’t.
At midsummer the tweeny left abruptly, her stomach rounder than Kirill remember it being a month ago, and her choked sobs stabbed at his heart. She’d matured into a pretty seventeen-year-old, promoted from between-maid to housemaid while remaining friendly and cheerful; although she’d ceased chatting with him once he’d recovered, she still threw him the occasional sweet smile and once in a while hid food in his room to compensate for his sole meal being after the first sweep of cleaning in the morning. In return he tried to take on some of her work to make life easier for her, and hoped she never noticed.
Even for a naïve slave it was easy to guess what had happened, but he’d never thought of her as the careless type. She never made eyes at the other servants. Perhaps it was a village boy she’d met on her one day off a week. She’d cared for him once, he’d wanted to do the same. He hadn’t loved her—he wasn’t sure a slave was even capable of an emotion like that—but there was an odd protectiveness he couldn’t help and her departure left a crushing pain in his chest. She’d been cast out and there was nothing he could do for her.
No one else was hired in her stead. Some of her tasks fell to Kirill, others to the tweeny that suddenly assumed her role: a girl who’d never expected such hasty advancement and was ill at ease with it. The extra work wasn’t as bad as Kirill had secretly feared and his guilty attempts to eavesdrop on what might have happened to its previous owner were fruitless. Sullen normality returned, punctuated only by low whispers of gossip he couldn’t catch and the times he lay awake at night hoping for her safety.
Two weeks after the maid’s dismissal, Kirill was cleaning an upstairs hallway that connected the spare rooms when footsteps filled the air and sent his heart crawling into his throat. It didn’t matter that he knew he did a good job, he was still terrified that one day the master or mistress would find fault. He didn’t even know why, beyond half-suppressed workhouse memories of what happened when he did things wrong, but it was enough to make him strive for perfection.
His grip tightened on the cloth and he threw himself more fully, if that was possible, into buffing the mahogany dado into a shine as the footsteps grew louder and a shadow passed over him—and instead of moving on, came to a standstill. “What are you doing?”
Kirill thought his heart would fail entirely. “Cleaning, sir,” he addressed the rail, polishing so hard he felt the muscles of his arm stand proud.
“And you enjoy that, do you?” The voice was both familiar and not, amusement colouring the warm tones.
“Yes, sir.”
“I’m not in the wall. Face me when you speak to me.”
The laughter in the voice was irrelevant, it was clearly an order. Kirill turned slowly, keeping his eyes down. “Yes, sir.”
The voice wore expensive shoes. He remembered cleaning them only hours before, one of the day’s first tasks. “Aren’t you a little too handsome to be doing this menial work?”
“No, sir.” His hands twitched; he resisted the urge to cover his scars.
There was a snort of amusement. “I’m telling you that you are.” Two fingers pressed under his chin. “Raise your head.”
As much to escape the fingers digging into his skin as in response to the command, Kirill did so.
With a sharp tsk, the hand gripped his chin more firmly. “Open your damn eyes.”
He’d been taught it was only respectful to shut them rather than stare openly at his master, but an order was an order. Nervously, he opened them.
Reuben Gamble gave him a brilliant smile. “That’s much better, isn’t it?” The hand relinquished his chin and brushed away the flash of white hair that fell over his forehead. “This came from the accident? But only the front...” The fingers moved to smooth the black strands over his ear instead. “Will you tell me about it?”
This was the most uniquely frightening situation he’d ever been in. Only his mistress ever asked him friendly questions and he knew the answers he was expected to give, but being addressed so informally by the owner’s son—and expected to answer for himself? He could barely breathe. Stepping sideways with a gesture to the door beside him, he tried to deflect the question: “I’m sorry to trouble you, sir. I’d hate for you to waste your time talking to me—”
Two hands squeezed his shoulders. Suddenly the wall was against his back, the dado hard against his spine; the hands slid down his arms to settle on his hips. “I’d much prefer you stay here.” In one step Reuben was only a hair’s breadth away, each word tickling Kirill’s nose. “I’ve been fascinated by you for a while now. My mother’s always had impeccable taste.”
The hands on his hips slid down to gently cup his buttocks. Kirill flinched as they dragged him fractionally closer, just close enough for the older man’s interest in him to become evident. His voice came out as little more than a whisper. “S—sir, what are you doing?”
His backside was released, only for the hands to shift upwards again: one to his chest, just above his heart, and the other to slide between their bodies and stroke the front of his trousers.
With a terrified squeak he twisted away, freed through sheer dumb luck than real intention. Leaving his equipment where it lay and without daring to look back, Kirill fled his master’s son and bolted down the stairs.
There was no sign of Reuben when he crept back, heart in his mouth, to pick up where he’d left off; he’d never before realised relief had a taste.
Wednesday, 18 June 2014
Collecting Shinies
Today, the awesome Danni blogged about the things she collects, and it got me thinking. I know I collect stationery, that much is obvious (and usually either her's or Clairabel's fault, I firmly maintain), and what started out as a fondness for gel pens is starting to grow into something a little worrying now.
I collect books too—but that's kind of obvious too. I've got a to-read stack that's reaching alarming proportions, and it's not counting all the Kindle books. I can't help that either, because books just look and smell right. They're a comforting weight in your hand, and a less comforting weight on your shoulder when you're trekking back to the bus station.
I'd love to collect models, but they're usually eye-bleedingly expensive. I stick to the Togainu no Chi Shiki and Akira figures I got a few years back, even if Akira is a pain to dust; they're both gorgeous and so far most people overlook the fact Akira's flashing his underwear.
So I thought about it some more, and then I realised with a faintly sinking sensation that what I actually collect is computers.
Not in the "new one every year, cutting-edge technology" sense—not that I wouldn't love to—or the "obsessive Apple fan" way (I don't own anything Apple), but in a more haphazard "I need something and then I get grossly attached to it" or (more often) in the "I don't need it but I don't care" way.
So... uh...
I should introduce a new member of my family now, shouldn't I?
This is the latest part of my collection and part of the first category of 'needs': a new desktop PC bought for the intention of actually being able to render images in less than five hours without crashing at the thought of it being 2500px tall. Here I'll qualify that this isn't actually something Sixteen's can help: he's a laptop and they're not really designed for things that make them overheat quickly, such as colossal images that only Amazon want at that size. (The image on the screen is at 2500px tall, for reference; that's a 17" monitor and the image reaches to Kirill's hips.)
The dusty desktop in the background isn't mine, by the way. It's my mother's, and she never got round to naming it.
So far it's working well. We've had some issues with my 3D content that are nothing to do with the PC and everything to do with the issue of absolute pathways in save files and changes in OS—I'm only familiar with Windows 8 in terms of 8RT on the Surface so it's taking some getting used to—and maybe a few computer games have sneaked onto there (but they work so nicely I couldn't possibly ask them to leave again...).
There has, in fact, been only one real issue.
The "Name your PC" screen cropped up and I had a complete brain freeze. It's like naming characters in games: it's something that requires great thought, lest you give it a strange or inappropriate name that completely skews either its personality or your perception of it (depending on which camp you're in in that regard). And what with my newest project being on my mind a lot lately, I may have called it "Echo".
Still, it could be worse, right? I could have named it after a man who went mad and coded himself into a computer system.
Hell, one day I'll end up naming a computer Durandal and then I'll be really screwed.
So... please say hi to the newest member of my technological family and most recent part of my favourite (and most expensive) collection!
I collect books too—but that's kind of obvious too. I've got a to-read stack that's reaching alarming proportions, and it's not counting all the Kindle books. I can't help that either, because books just look and smell right. They're a comforting weight in your hand, and a less comforting weight on your shoulder when you're trekking back to the bus station.
I'd love to collect models, but they're usually eye-bleedingly expensive. I stick to the Togainu no Chi Shiki and Akira figures I got a few years back, even if Akira is a pain to dust; they're both gorgeous and so far most people overlook the fact Akira's flashing his underwear.
So I thought about it some more, and then I realised with a faintly sinking sensation that what I actually collect is computers.
Not in the "new one every year, cutting-edge technology" sense—not that I wouldn't love to—or the "obsessive Apple fan" way (I don't own anything Apple), but in a more haphazard "I need something and then I get grossly attached to it" or (more often) in the "I don't need it but I don't care" way.
So... uh...
I should introduce a new member of my family now, shouldn't I?
The dusty desktop in the background isn't mine, by the way. It's my mother's, and she never got round to naming it.
So far it's working well. We've had some issues with my 3D content that are nothing to do with the PC and everything to do with the issue of absolute pathways in save files and changes in OS—I'm only familiar with Windows 8 in terms of 8RT on the Surface so it's taking some getting used to—and maybe a few computer games have sneaked onto there (but they work so nicely I couldn't possibly ask them to leave again...).
The "Name your PC" screen cropped up and I had a complete brain freeze. It's like naming characters in games: it's something that requires great thought, lest you give it a strange or inappropriate name that completely skews either its personality or your perception of it (depending on which camp you're in in that regard). And what with my newest project being on my mind a lot lately, I may have called it "Echo".
Still, it could be worse, right? I could have named it after a man who went mad and coded himself into a computer system.
Hell, one day I'll end up naming a computer Durandal and then I'll be really screwed.
So... please say hi to the newest member of my technological family and most recent part of my favourite (and most expensive) collection!
Monday, 16 June 2014
Writing Dust & Ash: Starting The Process
The other night, I wondered 'aloud' on Twitter whether anyone would be interested in following the creation of a book, from first flailing ideas to an actual finished product, bearing in mind that I am about as far from a proper, professional author as you can get.
One person liked the idea, so guess what? I'm doing it.
Not just because Danni was interested (though it is a big part of it—no one wants to work on something no one's interested in) but also because it's something I might learn from the experience of and—fingers crossed—help keep me focused.
The project I'm going to be working on is one that crashed into my head a couple of days ago out of nowhere (I suspect it got lost en route to someone actually competent's imagination) and, in my case, the 'working on' bit of the process usually comes after characters with names decide they're going to infest me. Sometimes even when they don't have names.
And 'names' is exactly where this all started, so it's where I'll start.
One thing I have in common with a lot of other writers is a notebook I use to jot down names that have either come to me out the blue, or I've seen somewhere and liked, or that might not even be names at all but could be worked into one. They either sit on the page and wait until they're needed, or they randomly attach themselves to characters: for instance, Kirill wasn't supposed to be called Kirill, but once the name was attached nothing else seemed to work until I stuck with it. In this case, I'd jotted down two names a couple of months ago: Dust and Ash.
So far, so generic. At the time, I looked at it and thought, "I bet they investigate supernatural crimes in modern fantasy or something," and promptly forgot all about it.
I was working when suddenly I realised, apropos of nothing, that Dust was a twin and his brother was called Echo. Echo had been born second, was a little smaller, a little quieter, and followed his brother everywhere.
And then I realised that Echo didn't follow his brother everywhere; he'd led the way once. Echo was dead.
It's not much, but it's a place to start. Now I've got the kernel of an idea, I've got questions I can ask: why is Echo dead? How does Dust feel? How does Ash, Dust's best friend, take it? What genre is it?
For me, this is the part where I start to work out the plot. Life is significantly easier when the plot appears first because you can sit down and start to work out the kinks almost immediately, but in this case I've still got a lot of work to do before I can get to that point—like find the plot.
For me, this involves asking more and more questions and writing down everything in another notebook. Being me, I have different pens and inks for different stories at this stage: it's handy if you use one notebook for every idea. I don't do it all in one go—I can't, it doesn't all pour straight out of my head, although damn I wish it did—so I write what I can and go away and do something else, and if something else comes to me, whether it's a question, an answer or a random idea, I scribble it down.
No, really. I'm not kidding. Sometimes, something in a song can spark an idea I might not have otherwise had, or made me realise something much quicker than I would have without it. I usually construct playlists for stories I'm working on, which is partly a procrastination exercise (my favourite hobby), and partly because while I might not actually hear it while I'm writing, as I tend to tune it out, it helps keep the outside world from encroaching—always handy when you share an office with a parrot—and feels like it helps keep me focused.
In this case, I'd heard a song on the radio in the supermarket earlier and I couldn't get it out my head, so I looked it up on YouTube.
While listening to the lyrics, I realised something important: Echo's body might be dead, but Echo himself is not. This gives me the genre: fantasy of some flavour. And if Echo's soul is somewhere else, then it means someone has done this to him, which gives me the shadow of a villain—and a lot more questions.
And for no apparent reason, I can see a tea shop / café, which gives me something to think about for world building: what kind of fantasy world needs a tea shop? Probably a fairly affluent one with good trade links and plenty of social time; now I can start to work out where Dush, Echo and Ash live.
This is about as far as I've got. I still need to work out who the villain is and what he gained from doing what he did, what Dush and Ash are going to do about it, and an actual plot (always a good idea, right?), but it's a starting point.
Next time, I'll talk about plotting and, hopefully, I'll be able to start working on this in earnest.
One person liked the idea, so guess what? I'm doing it.
Not just because Danni was interested (though it is a big part of it—no one wants to work on something no one's interested in) but also because it's something I might learn from the experience of and—fingers crossed—help keep me focused.
The project I'm going to be working on is one that crashed into my head a couple of days ago out of nowhere (I suspect it got lost en route to someone actually competent's imagination) and, in my case, the 'working on' bit of the process usually comes after characters with names decide they're going to infest me. Sometimes even when they don't have names.
And 'names' is exactly where this all started, so it's where I'll start.
The Initial Idea
One thing I have in common with a lot of other writers is a notebook I use to jot down names that have either come to me out the blue, or I've seen somewhere and liked, or that might not even be names at all but could be worked into one. They either sit on the page and wait until they're needed, or they randomly attach themselves to characters: for instance, Kirill wasn't supposed to be called Kirill, but once the name was attached nothing else seemed to work until I stuck with it. In this case, I'd jotted down two names a couple of months ago: Dust and Ash.So far, so generic. At the time, I looked at it and thought, "I bet they investigate supernatural crimes in modern fantasy or something," and promptly forgot all about it.
I was working when suddenly I realised, apropos of nothing, that Dust was a twin and his brother was called Echo. Echo had been born second, was a little smaller, a little quieter, and followed his brother everywhere.
And then I realised that Echo didn't follow his brother everywhere; he'd led the way once. Echo was dead.
Refining The Idea
It's not much, but it's a place to start. Now I've got the kernel of an idea, I've got questions I can ask: why is Echo dead? How does Dust feel? How does Ash, Dust's best friend, take it? What genre is it?
For me, this is the part where I start to work out the plot. Life is significantly easier when the plot appears first because you can sit down and start to work out the kinks almost immediately, but in this case I've still got a lot of work to do before I can get to that point—like find the plot.For me, this involves asking more and more questions and writing down everything in another notebook. Being me, I have different pens and inks for different stories at this stage: it's handy if you use one notebook for every idea. I don't do it all in one go—I can't, it doesn't all pour straight out of my head, although damn I wish it did—so I write what I can and go away and do something else, and if something else comes to me, whether it's a question, an answer or a random idea, I scribble it down.
Music Helps
No, really. I'm not kidding. Sometimes, something in a song can spark an idea I might not have otherwise had, or made me realise something much quicker than I would have without it. I usually construct playlists for stories I'm working on, which is partly a procrastination exercise (my favourite hobby), and partly because while I might not actually hear it while I'm writing, as I tend to tune it out, it helps keep the outside world from encroaching—always handy when you share an office with a parrot—and feels like it helps keep me focused.
In this case, I'd heard a song on the radio in the supermarket earlier and I couldn't get it out my head, so I looked it up on YouTube.
While listening to the lyrics, I realised something important: Echo's body might be dead, but Echo himself is not. This gives me the genre: fantasy of some flavour. And if Echo's soul is somewhere else, then it means someone has done this to him, which gives me the shadow of a villain—and a lot more questions.
And for no apparent reason, I can see a tea shop / café, which gives me something to think about for world building: what kind of fantasy world needs a tea shop? Probably a fairly affluent one with good trade links and plenty of social time; now I can start to work out where Dush, Echo and Ash live.
This is about as far as I've got. I still need to work out who the villain is and what he gained from doing what he did, what Dush and Ash are going to do about it, and an actual plot (always a good idea, right?), but it's a starting point.
Next time, I'll talk about plotting and, hopefully, I'll be able to start working on this in earnest.
Sunday, 15 June 2014
Craft Sunday: A Slightly Less Nekkid Box
I know I said these would be occasional but I guess this is a little ridiculous. Sorry about that.
Still, I've not had much to blog about in this regard. Or at least, looking at all the photos, it turns out that how I feel and how I've been documenting it haven't quite matched up, so this might turn out to be a little longer than expected.
Two months ago, shortly after my first post, I met up with my fellow Notts NaNoers (my local writing group as well as my local NaNo group, and all at least as odd as me in their own ways) and after chat and food, @anikadaniels and I went and examined the paint department of the Broadmarsh Wilkos. To be honest, I didn't have much idea what I was looking for and I'm pretty indecisive, so having Anika with me was a great help, particularly when it came down to narrowing a surprisingly large amount of wood stains and varnishes down to particularly 'steampunk' colours. We settled on Teak and Antique Pine.
The first thing I've learned about painting wood is...
Shake the goddamn bottle properly.
That, to the left, is Teak. Or at least, it would be if I'd given the bottle/can the thrashing it clearly needed, because it came out looking remarkably pine-y.
In hindsight, that photo is hilarious. You'll see why, assuming you haven't already scrolled down or seen a later picture. But still, let that be a lesson to you all. If you're going to paint something, really, really shake the can, because otherwise you'll end up with a wishy-washy colour.
So I picked the damn thing up and gave it a proper shake.
Significantly better results.
Still a bit light though; I wanted to go for something deep and rich.
It should be noted here that I'm doing all of this with a very cheap paintbrush that I'd bought specially for the job. I've got proper paintbrushes and there is no way I'd use one with wood stain or paint, but cheap ones from The Works do a remarkably good job, even if I had to clean what looked like glue off the one I'd chosen for the job—which came from a sealed pack. I suspect whatever they used to glue the bristles in leaked somewhat.
So I kept on and the more coats I applied, the darker it got, until I
settled on a nice dark colour.
Using a brush gave the effect of it being made out of real, solid wood, rather than the balsa wood it's actually made out of, and looks better in person than these pictures would lead you to believe. I started out by painting the inside of the box just to test it (and you can see why above), but after a while it became... I don't know, just something that felt like it should be done. I know I'm planning on covering it over, but it didn't feel right to leave it naked.
I'm undecided about covering over the inside top as well, so I painted that too.
It's quick-dry paint so it didn't take too long to get through layers, and I still have a lot left which is handy as my mother has now put in her request for one too. (I don't think I can make an industry out of it. I'm having a hard enough time sticking to writing.)
I've designed the top, but it's still as yet unpainted, because I'm not wholly sure how to approach it. I don't know whether to outline the cogs in waterproof pen and then paint, as the cogs are supposed to be Antique Pine while the rest of the lid matches the box, or whether there needs to be a design in the middle. I've considered buying watch parts too and simply attaching a real cog in the center.
On that note, if anyone knows of any good UK-based sellers of steampunk construction pieces or jewelry box items, I'd love to know about it. I'm particularly looking for interior chains to stop the lid opening all the way, but anything would be good.
All that was done over the course of May. At the start of this month (June), I headed to John Lewis in the Victoria Center with @SplitShilo and @AgentNotts, where we proceeded to ooh and ahh over the various fabrics, some of which are eye-wateringly expensive. If I won the lottery I'd just camp out there and sniff material, I swear. We examined all the fabrics and I stupidly neglected to bring the actual box along to check colours, but both my friends are very talented artists and could take a good guess at the colour I meant, and in the end we settled on this particularly nice burgundy taffeta. I only bought half a metre (£3) but there's a lot there for the size of the box.
I've yet to figure out how to actually line the box, so any details there would be greatly appreciated. It's probably not a good idea to start a project like this without any actual idea what I'm doing, but being thrown in at the deep end is the best way to learn.
Probably.
Not that I could resist the lure of all the fabrics entirely. I did end up splurging on some expensive but beautiful material.
I've got no idea what I'll do with it, but the squares are surprisingly large and the material's pretty thick.
I even ended up buying a £35 sewing machine (for light work).
Now I just find myself wishing that my sum total knowledge of sewing wasn't a couple of weeks of art classes where we all made T-shirts to a pre-ordained design and size.
I still have it, sixteen years later. It still fits.
That doesn't say much for the T-shirt; I hope this is a much greater success.
Still, I've not had much to blog about in this regard. Or at least, looking at all the photos, it turns out that how I feel and how I've been documenting it haven't quite matched up, so this might turn out to be a little longer than expected.
Two months ago, shortly after my first post, I met up with my fellow Notts NaNoers (my local writing group as well as my local NaNo group, and all at least as odd as me in their own ways) and after chat and food, @anikadaniels and I went and examined the paint department of the Broadmarsh Wilkos. To be honest, I didn't have much idea what I was looking for and I'm pretty indecisive, so having Anika with me was a great help, particularly when it came down to narrowing a surprisingly large amount of wood stains and varnishes down to particularly 'steampunk' colours. We settled on Teak and Antique Pine.
Shake the goddamn bottle properly.
That, to the left, is Teak. Or at least, it would be if I'd given the bottle/can the thrashing it clearly needed, because it came out looking remarkably pine-y.
In hindsight, that photo is hilarious. You'll see why, assuming you haven't already scrolled down or seen a later picture. But still, let that be a lesson to you all. If you're going to paint something, really, really shake the can, because otherwise you'll end up with a wishy-washy colour.
So I picked the damn thing up and gave it a proper shake.Significantly better results.
Still a bit light though; I wanted to go for something deep and rich.
It should be noted here that I'm doing all of this with a very cheap paintbrush that I'd bought specially for the job. I've got proper paintbrushes and there is no way I'd use one with wood stain or paint, but cheap ones from The Works do a remarkably good job, even if I had to clean what looked like glue off the one I'd chosen for the job—which came from a sealed pack. I suspect whatever they used to glue the bristles in leaked somewhat.
So I kept on and the more coats I applied, the darker it got, until I settled on a nice dark colour.
Using a brush gave the effect of it being made out of real, solid wood, rather than the balsa wood it's actually made out of, and looks better in person than these pictures would lead you to believe. I started out by painting the inside of the box just to test it (and you can see why above), but after a while it became... I don't know, just something that felt like it should be done. I know I'm planning on covering it over, but it didn't feel right to leave it naked.I'm undecided about covering over the inside top as well, so I painted that too.
It's quick-dry paint so it didn't take too long to get through layers, and I still have a lot left which is handy as my mother has now put in her request for one too. (I don't think I can make an industry out of it. I'm having a hard enough time sticking to writing.)
I've designed the top, but it's still as yet unpainted, because I'm not wholly sure how to approach it. I don't know whether to outline the cogs in waterproof pen and then paint, as the cogs are supposed to be Antique Pine while the rest of the lid matches the box, or whether there needs to be a design in the middle. I've considered buying watch parts too and simply attaching a real cog in the center.On that note, if anyone knows of any good UK-based sellers of steampunk construction pieces or jewelry box items, I'd love to know about it. I'm particularly looking for interior chains to stop the lid opening all the way, but anything would be good.
All that was done over the course of May. At the start of this month (June), I headed to John Lewis in the Victoria Center with @SplitShilo and @AgentNotts, where we proceeded to ooh and ahh over the various fabrics, some of which are eye-wateringly expensive. If I won the lottery I'd just camp out there and sniff material, I swear. We examined all the fabrics and I stupidly neglected to bring the actual box along to check colours, but both my friends are very talented artists and could take a good guess at the colour I meant, and in the end we settled on this particularly nice burgundy taffeta. I only bought half a metre (£3) but there's a lot there for the size of the box.I've yet to figure out how to actually line the box, so any details there would be greatly appreciated. It's probably not a good idea to start a project like this without any actual idea what I'm doing, but being thrown in at the deep end is the best way to learn.
Probably.
Not that I could resist the lure of all the fabrics entirely. I did end up splurging on some expensive but beautiful material.I've got no idea what I'll do with it, but the squares are surprisingly large and the material's pretty thick.
I even ended up buying a £35 sewing machine (for light work).
Now I just find myself wishing that my sum total knowledge of sewing wasn't a couple of weeks of art classes where we all made T-shirts to a pre-ordained design and size.
I still have it, sixteen years later. It still fits.
That doesn't say much for the T-shirt; I hope this is a much greater success.
Wednesday, 11 June 2014
Adventures With The IRS - Receiving An EIN
As I'm in the preliminary stages of preparing for my first "proper" ebook release I realised that I needed to stop faffing around and (finally) apply for an EIN from the US Internal Revenue Service.
The thing is, I'm terrible with phones. Anything that involves calling people I will try to put off time and again. It's hard to believe that I was actually a legal secretary once upon a time (well, four or five years ago) and therefore had to field calls all the time.
As a result, it's been pointed out to me that with the amount of time I've now spent avoiding calling the IRS, I could have just faxed them the relevant form and had the EIN... so, with that in mind, I loaded up Skype with £10 credit, sat in my office, steeled myself and gave them a call.
Whereon, having selected option "1" from the automated system... I promptly ended up on hold. Their opening hours are 6am to 11pm EST so I was actually ringing around 10am, pretty much when other people finally screw up the courage to ring about tax issues, but I was only on hold for about 6 minutes, which was impressive. If I'd been ringing the UK version I'm pretty sure it would have been significantly longer than that.
When my call was answered, I'm not entirely sure I made myself clear straight out the gate (I'm really out of practice with phones...) but once we got past my stupidity and he identified the fact that I'm clearly an idiot he spelled everything out for me and made it all significantly less scary. We went through the form SS4, which I'd already filled out in Acrobat (you can download both it and its help file here), and I discovered that I am apparently unable to phrase the letter "D" (it's the Midlands English accent), which made life difficult as my address contains a few of the little blighters... but about ten minutes later he gave me my EIN and also answered my question on whether I have to file a 0 amount to the IRS for tax purposes (the answer is no, you just file taxes in your own country as normal).
So I'd like to extend a huge thank you to the lovely Mr. Witt, should he ever see this (and hopefully I've got his name right; I'm terrible when I panic), because he spelled my name properly, he made the whole process easy, quick and painless, and he also made me laugh (intentionally).
If you're putting off getting your EIN because it seems daunting, or because calling the US is a frightening and potentially expensive experience, don't. It's a super-easy process, especially if you've already completed your SS4, you get your number straight away over the phone with a confirmation posted to you, and the best part?
As I called using Skype, a 15-minute phone call cost me 35p.
Efficient and affordable.
The thing is, I'm terrible with phones. Anything that involves calling people I will try to put off time and again. It's hard to believe that I was actually a legal secretary once upon a time (well, four or five years ago) and therefore had to field calls all the time.
As a result, it's been pointed out to me that with the amount of time I've now spent avoiding calling the IRS, I could have just faxed them the relevant form and had the EIN... so, with that in mind, I loaded up Skype with £10 credit, sat in my office, steeled myself and gave them a call.
Whereon, having selected option "1" from the automated system... I promptly ended up on hold. Their opening hours are 6am to 11pm EST so I was actually ringing around 10am, pretty much when other people finally screw up the courage to ring about tax issues, but I was only on hold for about 6 minutes, which was impressive. If I'd been ringing the UK version I'm pretty sure it would have been significantly longer than that.
When my call was answered, I'm not entirely sure I made myself clear straight out the gate (I'm really out of practice with phones...) but once we got past my stupidity and he identified the fact that I'm clearly an idiot he spelled everything out for me and made it all significantly less scary. We went through the form SS4, which I'd already filled out in Acrobat (you can download both it and its help file here), and I discovered that I am apparently unable to phrase the letter "D" (it's the Midlands English accent), which made life difficult as my address contains a few of the little blighters... but about ten minutes later he gave me my EIN and also answered my question on whether I have to file a 0 amount to the IRS for tax purposes (the answer is no, you just file taxes in your own country as normal).
So I'd like to extend a huge thank you to the lovely Mr. Witt, should he ever see this (and hopefully I've got his name right; I'm terrible when I panic), because he spelled my name properly, he made the whole process easy, quick and painless, and he also made me laugh (intentionally).
If you're putting off getting your EIN because it seems daunting, or because calling the US is a frightening and potentially expensive experience, don't. It's a super-easy process, especially if you've already completed your SS4, you get your number straight away over the phone with a confirmation posted to you, and the best part?
Efficient and affordable.
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