Ladies and gentlemen, cats and dogs, cakes and confectionary products everywhere.
I am pleased to announce that my novel Infected Connection is now available as an ebook.
There’s a NEW trailer!
There’s a website! With extras and FAQs and even a mobile version!
But most importantly, there’s a novel!
So if you fancy some high-tech horror with your tea and toast, technological terror with your coffee and cake, or science-fiction scares with your beer and bacon sandwiches, there are links to Smashwords and a bunch of different Amazon sites, here.
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In other news…
Read the above again!
It’s exciting! And Lappy II, my poor beleaguered laptop, deserves a well-earned high-five for making it through all this without turning into a flaming wreck!
I started writing about 12 years ago – which translates to approximately 1.5 years of writing, and 10.5 of furious and intense procrastination, masturbation and staring out of windows, waiting for fiction to assemble itself on the screen before me, and playing tower defence flash games when it did not.
In this time I’ve manage to squeeze from my creative sphincter four full, and two half novels; a smattering of short stories, and two depressing poems. Two of these novels were sent off to the Club of Literary Agents, where they got drunk, and nobody asked them to dance, and they came back home at the end of the evening and had a wank and cried themselves to sleep. The others just got stuck having pre-club drinks at the Need-Another-Redraft bar.
Continue reading Self ePublishing
*Warning. This post contains a first-person account of an evening under the influence of alcohol. Such material is only of interest to person or persons who experienced those events. Do not read.*
I completed the final stage of my dissertation process the other day. My 58-page, 13,000 word report had been submitted, and all I had to do next was present my project to others, explain and demonstrate the software tools I had developed, and describe how I had obtained my results.
There was no little amount of stress involved in doing this – especially when my bag decided to vomit my laptop out onto the street just beforehand.
But I’m not here to write about that.
I’m here to write about the aftermath.
Continue reading A Tale of Drunken Celebration and Annoying Repetition
I’m a child of science-fiction.
It was my father’s fault. Him and his bookshelves full of Asimov and Clarke and Wyndham and Wells, and to this day I still look forward to the myriad promises I found there.
Given the choice, I would trade my phone for a laser gun any day. Wouldn’t we all? And I’d swap my rented flat for a rented room on an interstellar vessel – even a crappy one with a shared bathroom and portholes that are painted shut. And I’d definitely exchange Miss-Matic’s wardrobe for one full of tinfoil dresses.
Continue reading Ash-Matic Does Speech-Recognition
Many of the best things in life happen in bed. Like sleeping, and dreaming, and having breakfast in bed. If you have a special person in your life, you can jump up and down on the bed with them, or kick each other out of the bed and laugh and stop them getting back in, or steal the duvet and pretend you’re asleep and have a really good grip when you’re asleep, so they can’t steal it back. Things like that.
I can’t think of many bad things that happen in bed. I had nightmares once, but they were all kinda cool.
The fact that everything that happens in bed is awesome has led me to an epiphany. You can make things you wouldn’t normally do in bed BETTER, by doing them in bed.
Continue reading Ash-Matic Does Things In Bed