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Countdown to midnight, goodbye 08, hello 09 - Citizen Kane I love you

¦ dialling in from Jesus Mound ¦

18:46 GMT, Wednesday 31st December 2008.  Sitting in my old bedroom, my reflection staring back at me from the massive window opposite the desk, soft lamp light illuminating the edges of my features, the rest in shadow, beyond the window a solid wall of darkness...nothing but the forest beyond that.  I'm groomed, lips closed and stretched into a smile, bopping my head and shoulders as I type, "Tell Me Why" by Supermode, a remix of the Bronski Beat classic is playing through the speakers of my laptop: a bit tinny, no bass to speak of, nothing like the testicle-trembling thwump I can get out of the speaker system set up back in the Sky Bunker, but I'm not complaining.

Ironically, last time this track was out I was 17 and living in this room.  That would have been a much different person looking back at me from the reflection in the window back then, eh!

I'm a couple hours into a chunk of work on Yellow Dawn edition 2.1 - I'm hoping to have it finished and made available by time I get back to Bristol this weekend. 

Temperatures are around -5c tonight.  So I'm glad I've decided to hang back here with the family, and Pete and the guys next door, and enjoy the company of whoever drops in for a drink over the next few hours rather than head out for a night on the Toon. I've got a treat in store.  A bottle of wine from 1979. Yup. 1979.  I'm going to open it up and reflect on 30 years of life.

2008 has been quite an amazing year.
() Finished Yellow Dawn 2nd Edition and officially released it
() Finished Shadows of the Quantinex (Beta version) and made it available for play-testing.
() Wrote my 4th novel, Edge.
() Attended my first convention.
() Asked to join the Company as a permy, and offered a promotion in my first week.

So it's no surprise I've spent the bulk of my time here in Newcastle avoiding the laptop.  I feel like I've actually managed to relax.  I've been staying up until 4 A.M. most mornings watching shite TV, drinking whisky and heading out for nocturnal walks through the ancient and usually deserted streets of Jesus Mound.

Last night I finally saw the film "Citizen Kane" by Orson Welles.  My God, what an incredible masterpiece.  I was utterly blown away by it, certainly one of my favourite films of all time - although something I would have to wait a few years before seeing again, I think.

Wishing you all the very best for 2009.

Djr

Last Christmas?

¦ dialling in from Jesus Mound ¦

13:02 GMT, Friday 26th December 2008.  So I'm sitting in my old bedroom (age 9 to 17) with a dead grey light flooding through wide window, a view of the ancient forest beyond. See pic below.  My limbs are aching from yet another lengthy and hard-striding walk through the old crumbling lanes of Jesus Mound itself... and down steep slopes into the narrow river gorge, past stone horse-shoe shaped bridges, up the other side, along the far ridge and back again.  My face is flushed red, cheeks and forehead still slightly chilled from the cold air.  I'm supping a mug of Early Werly Grey tea and smiling.

Christmas nearly started with a car crash. I left work last Friday afternoon, caught the train from Bath station to Temple Meads and then out to Parkway. Jo met me there, we drove to Gloucester, collected Kelvin and began our four hour blast North and East.  Late  night roads.  Heavy rain.  Somewhere south of Leeds a silver Mercedes coupe comes roaring down an on-ramp to join the motorway: it's right indicator is blinking rapidly and it slides across three lanes of swift moving traffic into the fast lane... right in front of us...Jo's barrelling along just below a Ton.  Time goes into slow mo.  Jo's headlights flick onto full beam.  Jo's hand is slamming down on the horn.  My legs are doing some weird kind of jig in the footwell, my arms are locking into a braced position... and then the silver merc goes into a spasm of fishtailing and swerving as the driver responds in shock.

The silver merc flies back into the middle lane as we hurtle alongside. Jo brakes enough to maintain a parrallel position and keeps her hand on the horn.  I glare through rain spattered windows to see a platimum blonde with jowels and fake tan, middle-aged and middle-class make-up job.  An identical rar-rar blonde type beside her.  I flash two fingers at them and jabber threats.  Humanity breaks down.  Silly really, but we all become different animals when inside these glossy cages.

We arrive in Jesmond before midnight and my brain shuts down.

I've spent a week barely touching my laptop. 

A page of notes for the new release of Yellow Dawn scribbed down, pen on paper.  Work and writing had both left me drained.  So I succumbed willingly and blissfully into a state of total relaxation.  I've been doing a lot of reading, of sitting with friends and family, or striding about old streets on my own.  But this is my first return to the keyboard: I've not missed it. 

Christmas was Norwegian style and perfect.  Mum and my sister.  Jo and Kelvin.  An empty place set in memory of dad.  Christmas Eve my sister cooks up an absolute feast: words cannot describe it.  Then we gather around the tree and take turns opening presents.  Ciaran and his lady arrive around midnight, as per tradition.  Jo and Kelvin head off to bed early as they need to be up at 7 to make their journey back South and west to join their respective families for an English Christmas.  I head out for a long walk through silent streets around 1Am. Ciaran and co finally leave around 3Am.

So now it's just me, my sister and mum.  The energy and dynamic shifts.  My sister and I have built some strong bridges between us this year, and it's good to be here with her.  Mum is preparing for results of a new scan, and I suppose preparing us for the worst by talking in terms of this possibly being her last Christmas.  It adds a certain emotion to every moment we spend with her, but it isn't sombre or depressing.  However it is surreal to think that within the next 12 months she might be dead.  So please join me in taking a moment to send out a wee prayer to the Universe and to the God of Light that she's beaten the shadows and will live on longer than is being suggested.

Hmm, just gone all misty eyed writing this.  I guess I'm dealing with things by burying a lot of emotion.  So, I clear my throat in the way that men are good at doing... sniff a little, and carry on.

I've got another week here.  Hopefully time will pass slowly allowing me to indulge in days of writing up here, and evenings with the family, or next door, with Pete for late night sessions of Dracula (Fury of Dracula from 1980s) and whisky.  I'm certainly savouring every moment with the woman who's come back into my life these last 10 years and become one of my best friends: my mum.  The hugs are a little longer.  The eye contact more poignant.  The smiles broader and more charged. 

Djr

Carpet Burn on my arse and return of the Wamphyri

¦  dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

08:10 GMT, Friday 19th December 2008.  Sitting at my desk, no music playing, supping first mug of tea of the day, hair sticking out in random clumps, deep creases running vertically down my forehead, I'm squinting through sleepy eyes, the four days of stubble peppering my face enhancing the general crumpled look.  I got woken up three times during the night by the neighbourhood nutter - a pale-faced doughboy blob - who likes to walk his dog every couple of hours between midnight and 7AM.  I've spent the last 30 minutes lying in bed daydreaming of punji sticks and a laying down a string of smelly sausages...

Stepping out of bed saw me wincing from the rigid neck muscles and then grimacing at the rear-end ache from my backside.  Not so much from rampant sex with my lady but more as a result of an adventure playground for adults: the company Christmas party.  Two nights ago.  Another spectacular splash-out by the company for its employees. A big venue.  A free bar.  A fairground theme.  1,500 people  milling around.  Lots of familiar faces this time... lots of big smile handshakes and from the ladies, lovely hugs and cheek-kisses, a real sense of cameraderie... we're all in this together and haven't we done well.  Yeah you can sneer and respond with cynical diatribe, but really, this was a brilliant get together. 

Although you've got to really feel for the guy who turned-up late and discovered his name had been pulled out of the hat to win the £3,000 prize... only, he wasn't there to claim it so they chose somebody else.  So my stiff neck comes from the game where you try to run down an inflatable alley with a huge peice of elastic strapped to your waist... I think I made 15 metres before being hurled backwards. 

Then there was the 4-storey Helter Skelter.  I'm confused as to how it fit inside the building we were in, but, there it was.  I clambered up the inside the big tower with a half-dozen whisky/coke's inside of me, clutching the coarse welcome-mat in my hands.  Some bloke at the top playing on his mobile phone casually tells me to keep my feet and elbows from touching the glossy wooden ramp.  One BIG shove from him and I'm off.  Picking up speed.  A lot of speed.  Swooping round and round in an accelerated descent.  Through the fog of alcohol my brain is registering the sharp final curve and the end of the ride. My welcome-mat strikes the touchdown area and stops abruptly.  I don't.  I carry on...sans mat and strike the industrial carpet with my arse, and, amazingly, bounce, like some surreal experimental bomb, I lift off and land again.  Hence the sore arse today.

I've started reading an old favourite of mine, something I last read in my early 20's.  I wasn't sure if I was going to enjoy it but the damn thing has got me gripped and turning pages almost quicker than I can read them. This is Brian Lumley's Necroscope series. I'm on book 2, Wamphyri, an amazing interpretation and brutal modification to the original vampire concept.  Looks like I'm sorted for my journey North.

Oh, and finally, here's my festive greeting for y'all   http://warmandfuzzyfeeling.com/
Don't look if you don't want to spoil your Christmas.

Djr

Fog bliss and NTODS slides into exception

¦ dialling in from workstation ¦

07:37 GMT, Tuesday 16^th December 2008.  I woke up this morning to find the world submerged within dense fog.  I leapt out of bed, dressed, knocked back a mug of tea, kissed my lady goodbye and hurried into my car.  Dashboard lights on, heater on, windscreen wipers swiping away the veneer of moisture on the screen and then off… trundling down my road with ghostly swirls of fog curing around the twin beams.  I turn onto the main road: it’s just past 7AM, darkness still cusps the sky, traffic is sparse and fast moving.  Lamp lit windows and the bright glare of road-side garages slip past, smudged within the fog. 

Within five minutes I’m out of the city and hitting dark roads…the fog ever more dense and atmospheric, and now a rich Prussian blue is leaking into the inky bowl of sky above and to the far rural horizon.  I shove in the cassette of old eerie tunes, early Gary Numan and William Orbit.

Perfect. 

Christmas is fast approaching. Two weeks for me up North, in Newcastle, in the blissful bubble of Jesus Mound.  Having written free of the changes and updates to Shadows of the Quantinex (just released Beta version 6.0) I’m now back onto NTODS… and taking the viewpoint that NTODS is dragging on far too long.  I’ve decided to work on it up until Christmas and then shelve it.  It’s not essential to the world of Yellow Dawn – more of a nice to have.  And I’ve more important projects to press ahead with. Releasing the new version of Yellow Dawn primary rulebook (2.1) and starting the next novel, Dog Eat Dog.

Djr

Ulrich Schnauss - Ghostly Ambient Heaven - and some big smiles in my world

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

18:06 GMT, Friday 12th December 2008.  An excellent few days.  I'm sitting in near darkness...just the digital glow of the laptop screen spilling across the fingers and knuckles of my hands... a deep red glow from the lava lamp at the edge of the desk...the red LED dot of the power stud on Life Support to my lower right: warm air blowing across my lower legs.  A thin smile is carving my lips, tense delight.  This weekend, despite my sullen state of mind for part of it, was brilliant: great progress with updating Shadows of the Quantinex... significant improvement to the way the information/story is presented...although I'm still deep into the work of making changes and don't expect a new version to be available until next Monday.

So I got called into a 1:1 with my Director at work, on Tuesday afternoon. He offered me a promotion - which I very nearly accepted but finally declined today.  Essentially it boils down to the fact I adore my job: I love the pressure, the variety and rapid-pace of change and deadlines; I love being enmeshed within a team of creative types and hard-core coders.  It makes me look forward to going in every morning...and often leaves me shooting out the far side of the end-of-day coasting on an adrenaline rush.  So I asked myself, why step away from this?  On the flipside, I'm deeply flattered... I've only been on permanent contract for a week and I've been proferred a ladder with the word "up" on it.  I'll see how the company changes over the next few months - recession and politics all creating a new climate.

Another little victory involves BT (British Telecommunications).  My girlfriend got a letter from them the other day asking her to pay £127 penalty charge for cancelling our contract.  I told her it was rubbish, don't pay it.  We've been with BT for over 2 years.  She rang them up: they told her it was because we'd taken up broadband with Orange... who were now taking over the line. So she paid them.  I rang them yesterday, calm, but with total conviction that I had the moral high ground.  I said, "Hi, I'm ringing for a refund on the money my partner paid to you recently."  It was a good argument. Enjoyable, even.  The guy said it was company policy.  I said I'm not paying £127 for their company policy.  I was polite all the way through.  In the end the guy put me on hold for 5 minutes, then came back and swiftly said, "We'll be sending you a new bill with the refund amount, and a cheque".

Result.

Got into work on Monday- still no Email.  I rang IT helpdesk.  The IT guy (#1) who'd been dealing with my deleted account was now on holiday. So I explain to the IT guy (#2) taking the call what's happened: you deleted my email account in error.  I've had no email since last Thursday. Today is Monday.  Can you bring it back, please. IT GUy #2 tells me I need to email a particular request to the IT Helpdesk account.

Hmm.

Right.

Okay, I can't do that - I don't have Email.

Ahh *manic smile* those little moments of insanity are what make the world go round, eh?

Meanwhile...

Ulrich Schnauss is the soundtrack to all of this.  The album, "A strangely Isolated Place" recommended to me by my soul-brother, Matthias several weeks ago. I listened to the first track and dismissed it out of hand. Not in the right frame of mind -other things to listen to. But now serendipity has brought the album back into my awareness: random selection on the laptop, one track in particular where I thought BLOODY HELL THIS IS GREAT, WHO IS THIS? And i find it's Ulrich Schnauss... and so now I'm hooked, playing the same album over and over again.  I HIGHLY recommend you check him.

Click here to preview or buy a copy of A Strangely Isolated Place

Oh yeah... and The Mood is still there, just, a wee little scent of it now and again, painting my emotional state with its curious patina. Go figure, strange but I love it.

That's it.

Djr

Sunday - Winter Sun - Shadows of Q - Yellow Dawn

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

09:42 GMT, Sunday 7th December 2008.  I'm a little spaced out.  I was up until 3A.M. this morning, working on Yellow Dawn, thriving on the creative burn of my Da Vinci method... each 15 minute power nap slipping me into a deeper sleep that was harder to shrug free from when the alarm went off. 

I'm in a strange, slightly sullen mood.  I'm restless and bored.  Too much of a good thing, maybe?  Too much of one thing: this laptop and Yellow Dawn this and Yellow Dawn that.  I think this weekend I'm a victim of my own work ethic: which isn't, actually, a bad thing.  I'll still be working, I'll still be producing new material... I'm just not in my usual blissful state of mind about it.  Anyway, I'm going to pen a few words here and then bail out of Cosy Castle and drive into the city...park up by the Harbourside and find a cafe.  The weather is divine.  I'm on my first mug of tea of the day: a few minutes earlier I was sat in the Room With A View, just below the Sky Bunker, a large window with a low sill providing a superb unrestricted view across the East edge of the city to the sleeping giant of Dundry Hill.  It's SUb-zero.  Blue inverted bowl of a sky overhead.  The most beatiful colour of sunlight...a rich golden light.  Mist filling the various valleys that have carved their way into the topography.  The sea of rooftops below my line of sight and descending away with the slope of the high hill I live on, look like something from a picture postcard... red tiles encrusted with thick frost... the view rapidly merging into the light mist to create a vast impression of shapes with no detail.

Hah! I'm feeling rather better having hammered those words out. A little creative prose away from the sterile scientific mechanics of Yellow Dawn systems.  The guys came round yesterday for a session. It was slow, which was nice, and at least 40% of the day was taken up by enjoyable discussion of the 2nd Edition rulebook and suggested changes for the planned version 2.1

They left and I was left with a mountain of notes - any changes I make for version 2.1 need to be documented and released as errata / bolt-ons for all the people who currently have the 2nd Edition rules.  It's a little tedious, but I know I have to do it.  A solid Change control ethic. 

Now the players are deep into Shadows of the Quantinex, they've just arrived in V_______.  I'm seeing where I can improve the structure of the book, the way some of the information is collated and presented for GMs to make it easier for them to run the thing.  So it's likely that NTODS will be on hold today whilst I complete the version 2.1 changes, and do a little literary surgery on Shadows of the Quantinex.

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. *eyes the two handed axe propped against wall to his left*  Think I might go and chop some wood today.

Oh yeah, The Mood has faded dramatically since yesterday.  It's now on it's way out.  "See you again in a couple years, maybe."

EDIT (16:13 GMT): brilliant trip into the city.  I parked up by Dom's old place. Walked past the Arnolfini, headed up towards Park Street. I was going to go into the Cathedral to light a candle for Dad but there was a service on.  I kept walking, and kept walking. I made my way into Hotwells, where I lived for 4 years after moving from Newcastle to Bristol.  I've not been back there for... 14 years?  The route there has been transformed by develoment...amazing modern urban structures crowding the edges of the river.  In the beautiful winter sunlight it all looked fantastic.  I stood outside the big old house but felt nothing... just a dull awareness I used to live there and memories without feeling of all the things that happened there.  I made my way back along the rivers edge into the city and harbour district - past the Arnolfini, back to my car. I didn't bother getting a coffee.  The walk cleared my mind and allowed inspiration to flourish. I've now spent the afternoon up here in the Sky Bunker, hammering out material and sticking to my Da Vinci routine.  All good stuff. 

The Mood....continues

¦ dialling in from workstation ¦

12:54 GMT, Friday 5th December 2008.  Yet another amazing journey in this morning; perfection, in fact. Reason: as I leave the urban structures of the city behind me and enter the rolling hills and vast countryside, pressing down on the accelerator as the winding road opens up ahead and traffic dwindles, the sky in the middle-distance becomes bruised and alien.  The low slung morning sun is in my line of sight, almost blinding and overwhelming, an intensity of light diffused and smearing across the grease on my windshield... and then, all of a sudden it becomes muffled by the fog-like belly of a HUGE cloud that starts creeping over the upper reaches of the higher hills I'm heading for.  To either side of me, a blaze of golden sunlight is washing across fields and hedgerows; but directly in front of me, the light has a murky, brooding aspect to it.  Think of a thousand horror films and I'm in that scene... driving towards it.  The cloud base continues to descend, eating up more and more of the hills I'm now ascending... my car vanishes into a world of mist - skeletal trees and ancient buildings flashing past; the muted glare of tailights from a car a hundred metres or so ahead of me as he hits a sharp corner - and then  gone.  Meanwhile, the crappy casette deck in my car (that I love) is playing some of my favourite tracks for this kind of vibe: "Montok Point", by William Orbit followed by "Liquid Cool" by Apollo 440.  And through all this... the smell, taste and emotional patina of The Mood is ever present.

Reaching Bath, I descend from the cloud base, leaving that nebulous beast to continue its slow crawl across the landscape. I enter blazing yellow sunlight.

At the Park & Ride there's no bus.  A long queue of people.  Unusual. Time slides by.  I hear rumours there's been a crash in the city.  Or that the police have blocked some roads.  Whatever the reason, there's no bus.  I decide to walk it.  Excellent decision because in the 40 minutes of fast striding - the bus didn't come along. 

However, at work, I discover I no longer have an email account.  I ring IT-Helpdesk. Ermmm, "have you been away for a long time?" they ask. "Nope," I respond.  Then it transpires they deleted me last night. Why?  Because HR told them I was no longer contracting there.  True.  HR didn't tell them I was no longer contracting because I'd accepted a PERMANENT CONTRACT!!!!  The Helpdesk guy tells me I'm not going to have any email for the rest of the day; "hopefully get you sorted out next week," he said, followed by a nervous chuckle.  I didn't chuckle back, "Hopefully...?"  He cleared his throat, "Definately."

Oh well - shit happens.

It was Jo's birthday yesterday. I took her out for a treat at Goldbrick House, Bristol. Bloody excellent. Decent food. Superb service. Lovely ambience.  A couple glasses of Malbec (05) and a finale of Sticky Toffee pudding (sorry, couldn't resist).  Nealy £100 for the two of us but worth it.

She's now away until Monday.  So tonight's me and my laptop, working on NTODS. Tomorrow is a Yellow Dawn session - more "Shadows of the Quantinex".

Return of... The Mood

¦ dialling in from workstation ¦

08:39 GMT, Tuesday 2^nd December 2008.  Utterly divine drive in this morning.  For most of the journey the sun directly in front of me, low on the horizon, a vast orb spilling gold and fiery light across a frost-encased rural landscape.  I adore the fact that as I pull away from my house and join the nearby main road, I can take a left turn, heading in the opposite direction to the majority of traffic… away from the long line of vehicles bunching together, crawling towards the city centre.  Within 5 minutes I’ve popped beyond the urban edge of Bristol and I’m flying along a narrow strip of black-top winding between trees and hedgerows, flashes of sunlight kissing my face, over and around the bulging flanks of hills; with regular glimpses of far vistas beneath a cold blue sky… distant hills, distant edges of Bristol dropping behind, or the approaching huddle of Bath within the deep cup of surrounding slopes.  I’ve got the heater on – warm air blowing across my hands on the wheel – and the window half-open, icy air blasting my grinning face.  This is the start to my day.  I am deeply pleased and grateful. 

Meanwhile, I am aware of the return of something I’ve always called “The Mood”.  Not sure how to describe it or explain it.  Every couple of years it returns for a few days and then goes away.  It’s a smell, a taste, an emotion… all in one.  If I breathe in through my nose now, I can smell it… something that started last Friday, slightly acrid, like smoke, now transforming, as always, becoming something like burnt vanilla… sweeter, more pleasant, eventually it’ll turn into a scent like almonds.  The smell isn’t actually there.  It’s just… in my head.  And with the smell comes a state of mind.  A very pleasant emotional plateau. A “place” I am very familiar with because I’ve been here time and again throughout my history. Ever since… well, the first time I can recall it is from when I was about 12; reading The Fog by James Herbert.  I’m always delighted when it returns for the fact it connects me vividly, viscerally even, with these bubbles of memory threaded through my past.  Is that strange?  I suppose it possibly is.

Djr

Orbital Sports Glider - SPORG - enjoying the main vein, NTODS evolves full pace

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

18:27 GMT, Sunday 30th November 2008.  "Mad World" by Gary Jules (Donnie Darko) is playing through the big speakers mounted either corner of my desk, random selection via the laptop.  Darkness is pressing against the glass canopy above my head; daylight faded a couple of hours ago.  Both days of the weekend have been marked by grey featureless weather, a sharp sting of ice in the air.  The air inside the house is warming up now that the heating has kicked in, but up until an hour ago it was off and the house was frozen...one cup mug of tea was cold within 5 minutes, great plumes of steam rising off the surface as it sat on my desk.  Of course, if you know me you'll know I quite enjoy this.  Like getting out from a hot bath and there being so much steam rising off your skin you can barely see anything in front of you.  A quick hustle upstairs to the Sky Bunker and the faithful hot-breath of Life Support.

It's been a lovely weekend - and in no hurry to come to an end, it seems.  I didn't leave the house yesterday, other than to help Jo carry a Christmas tree from the garage in through the kitchen and into the dinning room.

Most of my time has been up here.  Repeated Da Vinci sessions interspersed with 15 minute power naps, keeping my brain revving along at high creative output.  Today, lying on the big bed of the spare room next to the Sky Bunker, I listened to a recorded radio play, "At The Mountains of Madness" in 15 minute segments.  With the near zero temperatures inside the house, it was apt listening material.

Last night I got a great fire going in the front room, the cast iron stove pumping out so much heat we didn't bother turning the central heating on at all.  We drank mulled wine whilst illuminated by brilliant flame, all of the room lamps turned off, not even the TV switched on to spoil the ancient light. 

This morning I drove into the city around 11am, parked up near Dom's old place and walked around the deserted, nearly frozen harbourside, savouring the lack of people, and the grey light, rather than feeling isolated or depressed by it.  Into the Arnolfini, which has become my new favourite haunt for a quiet Sunday morning.  One Americano with a dash of milk, Pain au Chocolat.  M.R.James, a collection of Ghost Stories.  One notebook and pen.  Very similar to recent Sunday's here... but it's the repetition and creation of a new memory-theme that I enjoy.

I spoke to my sister and my mum, yesterday; we're all remembering Dad.  They took a trip to the crematorium, and then down to the coast to enjoy fish & chips from Marshalls (Tynemouth).  Like myself, they were both in good spirits.  Life goes on.  We can celebrate his life rather than moan about the loss of it.

Creative wise, I'm in the midst of "effects on the human body caused by short burts of extreme acceleration; and prolonged exposure to high G-force", and time dilation, special relativity, and trying to determine how long it takes @ 30G to reach 0.8C.  I'm also writing up a variety of vessels for characters to ride in or get their hands upon, if ever thrust into the high-adreline arena of Orbit and Deep Space.  This thing is going to take me bloody months to finish! :o( 

Part of me thinks I'm probably reinventing a few dozen wheels with all this space-RPG malarky, but, it's the world of Yellow Dawn so I feel I need to go through it, walk my own route, from start to finish.  

I came across the brilliant work of Col. John Stapp. A great quote of his, “...one factor is encouraging. There are only two models [male and female] ofthe human body currently available, with no immediate prospects of a newdesign; any finding in this research should provide permanent standards.”- Col. Stapp.

Oooo, "9 Ghosts I" by Nine Inch Nails has just come on. Jolly good and eerie. 

Jo's been out most of the day, so I'm up here in a bubble of red lava lamp light surrounded by shadows. 

WINSTON-DOUBLE-PLUS-GOOD ¦ Chocolate Rectify: http://www.guardian.co.uk/politics/2008/nov/30/damian-green-arrest

"Here we go..."

Over & Out.

Djr

Dark Energy Drives and Winter Mornings

¦ dialling in from workstation ¦

13:52 GMT, Thursday 27^th November 2008.  Where the heck has the week gone?  I cannot believe it's Thursday already.  I’m sitting at my workstation, just wolfed down a load of fish "something"... nuked in the microwave and washed down with coffee.  Not the best lunch in the world but tasty, and fast.  The heavy bass of Reggae-dub is whomping out from behind me – not normally my kind of music, but it’s proven to be a relaxing counterbalance to crazy pace of the morning.  All good though. I’ve scored an exciting new project involving an American music event; pretty cool client too, good attitude, full of ideas with an infectious enthusiasm.  This followed the sign-off of another project earlier in the week… a new website launch.  The work is coming in thick and fast, against the tide of negative media and the whole credit-crunch hyperbole.  Digital, it seems, is where the money is.  *smiles*

The daily commute the past two days has been perfect. Yesterday was a wonderful winter morning; grey-white, chill air, low clouds, a stunning stillness in the atmosphere.  This morning was warm, golden sunlight streaming in low from the East, painting the landscape in spectacular colours.  Both mornings I’ve found myself driving with a big smile curving my lips.

I've had a couple of 4 - 5 A.M. starts this week; snapping awake in the dark, cold air clasping my face, the seductive heat of Jo and the duvet creating a lure to stay in bed... but I managed to push through, whip back the duvet, grit my teeth at the influx of cold air and find solace in the big wolley socks and the vast wooley bulk of my Starsky cardigan...pad downstairs, brew the first mug of tea, and then up, up, up into the Sky Bunker.

Lava lamp...on. 

Life support...on. 

Laptop...on...dialled into the stereo and something space-age and atmospheric oozing out through the speakers in digital sound streams.

Good progress with New Tokyo, Orbit and Deep Space.  I’ve finished a big section about Dark Energy Drives and the comprehensive list of consequence of the energy spilling out from the heavy shielding; I’ll probably find myself spending most of the weekend working on the vessels and transport available away from Earth. 

Saturday will mark the 2nd anniversary of my dad passing over. Not sure if it'll hit me or if I'll continue with the positive frame of mind I've managed to keep since he died.  I'll do the journey into town and go light a candle for him at Bristol cathedral, a place I find gives me a sense of being close to the chap.  My sister's gone up to Newcastle to be with mum, visit the garden of rememberance.

Djr

Temperature Drop and an update

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

07:45 GMT, Sunday, 23rd November 2008.  Calm and white sky above my head.  No music playing, just the gentle and persistant hum of life-support, blowing warm air across my legs in contrast to the icy nip of the air in the house.  It's nearly sub-zero out there and not far off that in here.  I quite enjoy that; a force of habit after spending 11 years in the Happy Flat (no heating).  I'm not long out of bed; slipping out from the big duvet soaked in heat from Jo's body...I'll probably end up back in that sumptuous cave after I've done a session of writing up NTODS, or, maybe grab a chance to enjoy the city without all the people and jump into Swampy, drive down to the harbourside, park up by Dom's old place, wander across to the Arnolfini or press on up Park Street to the old faithful, Boston Tea Party.

Had an excellent night yesterday.  Jo invited around Hercules Poirot (Lloyd) for dinner; I prepared and put on a huge pan of chilli around 2pm, a really low heat after sealing the meat...and left it to cook until 6.30.  One of the best chilli's ever.  Then an evening supping wine in the front room, flopped out on big sofas with the fire roaring away...the heat washing over us, relaxing, the magical colour of the flames, crystal goblets of red wine glowing in the firelight, shadows and colours dancing across the walls in the darkened room.

The week has flown by.  Work wise, I'm about to push-live a new site we've been building for the last few weeks; had a Board review of it on Friday morning which went well, so, a few tweaks and then a Monday or Tuesday Go-Live.  My permanent contract for the company arrived, so good news there.

I spoke to mum briefly; she's in excellent spirits, certainly reflecting her good news from the consultant last week.  Right now they've got snow up in the North-East, unlikethe freezing rain currently spitting against the canaopy above my head.  My sister is finding her feet after the glory of passing her Masters (Merit) and crashing into the mundane world of work and looking for funding.

Jo returned from her biz trip to Paris on Tuesday night bearing gifts (ooo-laa-laa) and stories of nocturnal adventures *grins*.

Progress with New Tokyo, Orbit and Deep Space (NTODS) continues, slowly, but steadily. I've taken a conscious decision not to beat myself with getting in finished with any insane urgency - as I normally tend to do - instead it'll be finished when it's finished.  I've got two weeks off work over Christmas / New Year which will be a rare return to the  days when I had endless days to write (2005-2007).  Yellow Dawn itself, the primary rulebook (2nd Edition), is approaching it's first birthday; I'm working on a version 2.1 to release early in 2009, containing the few bits of errata discovered this year, and some other tweaks here and there. 

My Man in Germany has an online identity: Nachtflug.  We've been exchanging emails for a few weeks now, and I'm really enjoying getting to know him.  His English is first class, as opposed to my German skills which are virtually zero.  So I'm grateful for the extra effort he's obviously putting in, writing to me in a non-native language.  

Three people who are sharing their writing journey with me are in a variety of states: Sharky's stumbled with writers block after a long period of steady progress... there is no such thing as "writers block" so I'm hoping he finds somewhere without distractions, grabs a pad and pencil, a strong cup of coffee, and writes ideas until the engine kicks in again.  Pete - DVH - "Dr Van Helsing" has reached 50,000 words with a sci-fi novel he charmingly describes as "Friends in Space", however, I've already read some of the early incarnation and I have to say I'm looking forward to reading the whole thing when finished.  Mary R is being Mary R...currently in a flurry of creativity, no doubt building on the confidence boosting success of having one of her short stories included in an anthology of North American spooky tales; we're sharing our delight of Solar Fields and Ladytron.

That's it for now.

Over & Out.
 

EDIT: 12:51 hrs, just got back from a brief venture into town. The weather is shitty enough to keep most of the zombies in their over-heated homes.  Grabbed a table at the Arnolfini, by the window overlooking harbour.  Strong Americano with a drop of milk, a delicious Pain au Chocolat to go with it.  Delicious.  One of those vivid moments of self-awareness when a voice in your head is saying "this is good".

Sleepy Head

¦ dialling in from SKy Bunker ¦

07:53 GMT, Monday 17th November 2008.  Heavy grey skies above me, dense mist pregnant with rain.  "Golden Age" by TV on the Radio is playing by choice.  I've got creases on my face; my hair (growing back from a buzz cut) is sticking up in tufts; one eye is more squinted than the other, dragging my lips into a neutral sneer.  Despite a weekend where most of my spare time was spent sleeping or veging on a sofa, I'm deeply tired.  Quite pleasantly so, in one way; frustrating in another way...very little achieved.  But, sometimes, I guess you just need to rest.

Some good news from last week: 1) my mum had the thumbs-up from her consultant that both cancers have stabilised - following chemo.  2) The media company I've been contracting for the past 13 months turned round and offered me a permanent role: I've grabbed it with both hands and feet.

The weekend flashed by in a flux of brain waves.  Saturday saw a session of Yellow Dawn - further play-testing of the mammoth "Shadows of the Quantinex".  The characters were up in space - on the Choma Lab habitat, a place that has always been described as the "source" of the Yellow Dawn pathogens.  It was one of the best game sessions I've played in 27 years of roleplaying, mainly down to the brilliant tension created by the players themselves.  It was truly, horror in space.

After an intense week at work, the game left me wiped out.  Sunday was a write-off: I made some notes about changes I want to make to the Deep Space chapter of Shadows of the Quantinex, but just could not find the energy to sit down and write them up.

Instead, after a lovely morning snuggled up with Jo, we both headed into town, to the harbourside, and met up with Simon P, Vixter, Orson and friends for a birthday rendezvous (Simon).  A really good event.  Many faces it was a pleasure to see (Rob C, Ms Scarlet and her chap, Harvey).

Jo had to leave early to catch her taxi to the airport. She's off to Paris on business. I made my way home alone, but rather than spend the rest of the day in the Sky BUnker working, I built up a fire with chopped logs, and camped myself in the front room with Poirot and other TV creations, or sat with TV and lights off, gazing at flickering flames.  Later that night I had phone calls from Paris: Jo describing spotting the powerful sweeping light beam of the Eifel tower from the air as the plane came into land: we both chuckled, recalling a night in Paris in 2007.  I went to bed pretty early, thinking my body would wake me up in the wee-hours, giving me a chance to crack on with my work with a fresh mind.  No such luck. :o)

High Priest of Light - James Turrell

¦ dialling in from workstation ¦

08:55 GMT, Wednesday 12th November 2008.  Low winter sun blazing in through tall Napoleonic windows to my right.  The colour of sand.  Beautiful contrast to a perfect blue and cloudless sky: freezing cold air. I was supposed to go to a VIP screening of the new Bond film last night, a treat provided by my employer for the work we've been doing on some digital ad campaigns. 

Unfortunately I started getting twitchy as the day drew to a close... I've not achieved much in my personal creative projects since the weekend... and lack of progress makes me edgy... the little voice in my head driving me on, making me guilty for wanting to spend a night watching a film I've already seen.  So, rather awkwardly, I glanced at all my colleagues who were getting into the vibe of a night out...and more or less silently slipped away. 

Getting back to Bristol and Cosy Castle I felt an overwhelming sense of delight. Up into the Sky Bunker, laptop on, life-support blowing across my legs... my brain engaged with ideas and problems to do with NTODS.  I solved some problems, found some new ones, made great progress.  After four or so Da Vinci method sessions I headed downstairs to catch some crap on TV...instead, I made a great discovery. 

Have you ever heard of James Turrell?  I hadn't.  And yet this man is a living legend.  There was a documentary with Alan Yentob making a pilgramage out into the heart of Arizona to meet this man, and see the pinacle of his work: art, with light...a challenge to basic human perceptions, a stunning awakening to the fact that WE create our perception of reality rather than recieving a view of reality from outside.  I could rattle on forever about how amazed I was, sitting there on the sofa, my back upright, elbows on knees, rivetted.  I feel like I've made a discovery that's important.  I feel like I need to go there: to the extinct volcano that Turrell has carved with machines and embedded with tunnels and glass and "windows" and filled with celestial light.  Look up James Turrell and Roden Crater.

Speaking of Quantum of Solace, I enjoyed it when I saw it with Jo a couple weeks back.  Daniel Craig is excellent, although I hope we see a return to his more charming character - as Bond - and an end to the cold psychopathic machine he became after the death of Vesper.  My single criticism of the fim, and it's a big one, is the editor should have been fired; he certainly shouldn't be given work again: cross-cutting, fast edits and a general lack of finess left me baffled as to WTF was going on.  The editor ruined the action scenes.  If this is a new trend, then it needs to be killed off. 

DJR

Departure Lounge, Taxi ride with Elvis and a ghost, bliss in Jesus Mound

¦ dialling in from Newcastle Airport ¦

06:24 GMT, Monday 10th November 2008. Sitting in the departure lounge at some generic "Burnt" coffee concession.  Surprisingly not dazed, despite the 5 A.M. wake-up and 5.30 taxi ride from Jesus Mound.  No doubt a result of me going to bed at a decent time rather than trying to prolong the blissful bubble-world and staying up til 3 A.m. like I did last time, knocking back whisky and enjoying the silence.

Had a surreal moment during taxi ride.  It was all very nice, reclined in big leather seat up-front, silent driver, heaters on gentle warming breeze, my head tilted to the side, eyes lazily watching Newcastle sliding past the windows... the city mostly still asleep; darkness padding out most of the view, interspersed by globs of sodium orange lighting.  The radio was playing easy tunes from the 70s.  Then Elvis Presley came on, not sure of the name of the track but KLF sampled it for the WHITE ROOM and I was immediately transported back to Osborne Avenue 1990...and then a temporal fast forward to May this year, and me playing a rip of the WHITE ROOM video on my laptop in a private villa in the remote mountains of Cyprus. Okay, I'm rambling.  The surreal moment was when Nial Diamond started crooning next, and suddenly the bear-like lump of silence next to me began to morf into my dad.  I didn't look at him directly, but the size of his hands on the wheel; that "old man" burgundy jumper; the rhythmic wheezing and sighing to his breathing.  It's approaching the 2nd anniversary of my Dad dying... so I was a little startled to have this experience.  It passed as quickly as it came.

So, the excellent news:

It's all to do with "Yellow Dawn" and German Magazine for Call of Cthulhu : “Cthuloide Welten”

Frank Heller - the Chief Editor for "Cthuloide Welten" has decided to commission an article about "Yellow Dawn" from the point of view as a recommended world for Call of Cthulhu.  This feels like a wonderful endorsement of my work. The article won’t be completed for some time and is expected to be in included in next October's edition (2009).  After I've invested so much time, sweat and money, it's fantastic to see a significant player in the industry buying-into my ideas.  Big shout to Alexander for his enthusiasm and support, and for acting as an agent of Karma / Serendipity. Thanks fella.

Hopefully though, news of this endorsement will spread amongst those lovers of the Cthulhu Mythos and generate further interest in Yellow Dawn as a legitimate game system. 

I'm in the airport to catch a flight back to Bristol after a long weekend up North.  It's been great, as usual.  This trip had a special purpose. Well, two actually.  One, was to celebrate and congratulate my sister for passing her Masters with a merit. Whoo-hoo! Check out the brain.  I took her, my mum and Jo out to a superb little place called Blackfriars Restaurant, tucked away in the ancient heart of Medieval Newcastle... where old stone walls and cobblestones still square up to the weather and stand proud.  Blackfriars has been around since the 13th Century... of course, they've updated the menu and the staff, a little... so I tucked into succulent meats, washed down with wine, Mead, and a hearty tumbler of Oban single malt. A very good (and expensive) night, but worth it.

The second reason for being up North was Pete (next door), and his bonfire.  This guy spends the better part of half a year spotting skips filled with wood, window frames and old doors, and brings them back to his garden. On Bonfire Night the whole lot goes up.  This year was no exception.  It was great to hang out with Pete into the wee hours, supping wine and letting his talk with enthusiasm and excitement about his writing (he's started his first novel).  Of course, no trip to Newcastle is complete without a bloody battle of wits, dark powers, garlic, crucifixes and wooden stakes: I'm talking about The Fury Of Dracula (1980s version).  Fantastic session that saw Rosie (Dracula) stabbed to death (repeatedly) by Pete somewhere in Southern Spain.

Delightful.

Cthulhu Weather - Yellow Dawn - Positive Words

¦ dialling in from workstation ¦

13:31 GMT, Thursday 6th Nov, 2008.  Just got back from a sushi fest at my regular haunt, Yen Sushi, in Bath.  Such amazing food and atmosphere, regularly puts my brain back on track for the rest of the day at work, and an evening of writing. No writing tonight though: off to Newcastle and a long weekend in the blissful bubble of Jesus Mound.

Had a good night with friends last night: arranged for a few people to rendezvous at my "local", the Upton Inn. They were throwing a Fireworks & Hog Roast evening.  The food was surprisingly average, a shame, nowhere near as awesome as Boca Bar's Hog Roast last weekend... but it was fantastic to have a bunch of mates there, sharing the experience, and getting to know where the place is (amusing trying to guide GBH in by mobile phone, his SatNav failing as per usual, and him finally reaching us by associating the bangs and pops of fireworks coming through the phone with the bright pulses in the distant sky).

This morning the weather was misty, the hue of the light particularly eerie, very much Cthulhu weather. I had a great drive in... following the steep curves and contours of the hills between Bristol and Bath... a narrow winding strip of tarmac hugging the landscape... bordered by trees or drystone walls with sheer drops beyond... sometimes finding myself skimming the base of vast banks of mist hovering just above me.

Got into work early and checked my emails, a delightful byte of feedback about Yellow Dawn, simple and very much to the point, and made very cheerful.

"The game is excellent!!!"

Was all that was said.  More of that, please :o)

There's been a lot of activity within the play-test group, primarily developing some useful "bolt-ons" for the Primary Rulebook. I'm hoping to get round to writing these up sooner than later and publish them through the Yellow Dawn section on Yog.

Progress with NTODS is steady. I'm really enjoying it, actually.  A couple of the play-testers have raised issues around the advanced nature of some of the technology I'm bringing in.  I spoke with Nice Guy Tony about this last night, double-brandy in hand, munching on Hog Roast... I explained that all of this advanced technology is not coming out of Earth or the Orbital Colonies (which would not be credible), but rather, is stemming from the background story to the Borgednrill Corporation - and the birth /development of the machine colony.  (Read the novel, DANTE'S FOOL for an intro to this).  The technology is not human.  The technology comes very much from "beyond".  The AI's of the Borgendrill Network hold and contain this knowledge, allowing some of it to backsplash towards Earth.  So, to be blunt, I'm looking forward to creating a distant (from Earth) rim of AI / Habitats with a significant wealth of highly advanced technology. In comparison to the technologically stagnant Earth with its vast areas of abandoned landscapes.

Finally, I was copied into an email that's very positive; the primary recipient is a player in the US literary scene, so let's see how this flies (or dies).  I'm dropping it in here because a) it's flattering, but b) because I feel it sums up and reflects my own self-perceptions.

-----Original Message-----
From: F_______ [mailto:xxxxxxx@mac.com]
Sent: 3 November 2008 10:21
To: S________
Subject: Thanks, Edge and a Proposal

Hello S______,

Good to see you this week, hope you got home to dinner on time?

Thanks for meeting up and collecting a copy of David J Rodger's latest work, 'Edge."

I finished it last night.  Strong stuff and my favorite to date.  I won't go on about it (although I'm dying to gush) as I want you to experience it raw.

Taken as a whole, David J Rodger has a rich, deep and ongoing universe which is marketable on many levels - from his books through to his successful Role Playing Games.

A smart man will see the future (and good business opportunity) in his talent; computer games and movies being a distant but reachable extension for his worlds, by way of just two examples.

Make this happen.

All the best,

F________

DJR

Another dreamy weekend - Arnolfini Hello - Love My 2 Handed Axe

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

14:16 GMT, Sunday, 2nd November 2008.  Dull grey light pressing through the glass canopy above my head. A few miles of solid grey cloud directly overhead.  It's the kind of weather to bring you right down...if you were in the mood for it; but I'm feeling bloody wonderful. "Ooh La La" by Goldfrapp is throbbing through the twin speakers either side of my desk, selected by choice.  I'm supping a mug of fresh ground coffee, brewed up in the steel Octagon God.  Life Support is humming away to my right...blowing warm air across my lower legs and the thick wool socks.  The rest of the house is ice cold - why waste energy heating up a massive space when you're only in one small part of it.

I've just come upstairs from chopping logs with my lovely 2-handed axe.  We've now got a big wicker basket full of splintered pieces, ready to build a fire later this evening.

It's been a dreamy weekend.

After the intensity of work and social plans over the last few weeks, I decided that this weekend should have no plans.  I wanted 2 days of just me, my lady, the laptop and as much time as I want for the love affair with my creativity.  It's been great. Existing within the 45 min / 15 min boundaries of my DaVinci method for large sections of the day - or just chilling with Jo downstairs, or snuggled up in bed with half-lidded eyes, gazing at the grey light spilling past the edges of thick curtains.

I'm working on "New Tokyo, Orbit and Deep Space" (NTODS), a supplement for Yellow Dawn. Great fun.  The next book can wait.  I'm in this vein now. *grins* 

Last night I joined Jo at her friend's house. A lively and rotund gay chap who reminds us both of Poirot (Suchet).  He fed us with divine food and filled us with wine.  Then we headed up through dark country lanes, in icy spitting rain, to our "local", the Upton Inn. A roaring log fire.  Lots of happy looking people.  I grabbed a double-brandy and sank down in a heavy wooden chair and soaked the atmosphere whilst Jo and L_____ chatted away.

I thought I'd managed a long lie-in this morning, but when I padded downstairs I found it was just past 8 A.M.  A couple mugs of tea and some work on NTODS. Then I jumped into Swampy and drove into the city.  Parked up by Mr Random's old place, strolled alongside the quiet river... not many people around.  The Arnolfini cafe was open, and empty. I ordered a small punchy Americano and a freshly baked pain-au-chocolate served on a large square plate of bright-white ceramic, parked myself at a tiny square of wood by a large window, grey light streaming in, a view of the harbourside and ancient cobblestones.  A replica clipper ship has been moored up... I admire the chaotic order of the rigging. 

Back home, Jo is still in bed... I bring her tea, and fresh flowers.  She's sitting propped up by pillows in low light, long dark hair cascading down her bare shoulders and framing her face - a sultry, sleepy cast to her features.  I head back downstairs and cook up a huge breakfast... and serve it upstairs in bed.  We spent forever snuggling and enjoying the stillness of the day. 

Now I'm back upstairs... my arms and hands ringing from the recent chop session with the axe... and I'm meshing with my dream-worlds of technology and horror. No plans but this for the rest of the day.

Fantastic.

The Magnificent Weekend

¦ dialling in from workstation ¦

 12:06 GMT, Monday 27^th October.  Divine canary yellow sunshine flooding in through tall Napoleonic windows… gleaming off the Bath stone that so many buildings here are built from. I’m in an utterly blissed out and cheerful state of mind. I’ve had such an amazing weekend.  Left work on Friday night after a couple of Leffe with the guys here; got into Bristol, passed my house and went straight into town to the coach station, met my sister and N____. Big smiles, good hugs.  Great to see them.  R___ was there too. We all piled into Swampy and I drove them to the Boca bar.  Delight on their faces.  Drinks, food, good times.  My sister is raving about my novel, Dante’s Fool; I’m taken aback and delighted.  She’s read most of it in just two days, flat out.  Having arrived in Bristol, she has only a couple pages left… so whilst everyone chats, she buries her face in the book until she reaches the end. Wonderful endorsement for Dante’s Fool. We left Boca bar and drove back home to Cosy Castle with little sis and N___. Jo’s there, and she’s made the house look lovely…and has been to Sainsbury’s and bought in a ton of stuff.  We crash in the front room, build up the log fire, I guzzle more leffe, they sup wine and nibble on cheese and crackers.  Me and my sis battle it out on Wipeout (PS2).

Saturday morning, we’ve got time to cook up a big breakfast and guzzle coffee before the house I crammed with the Yellow Dawn players.  Sis, N___ and Jo flee the house and spend the day in town.  Meanwhile, I get to enjoy a whole day of Yellow Dawn, playtesting Shadows of the Quantinex.  The guys have decided to take a plot thread that leads them into orbit, and out into Deep Space.  A little nerve-wracking for me as I’ve not yet written the “New Tokyo, Orbit and Deep Space” supplement for Yellow Dawn.  I had to wing-it, but, this proved to be an excellent opportunity to dry test some concepts, and get a ton of great ideas and suggestions from the guys.  A very good game session.

Literally five minutes after we wrap-up, I get a phone call from an unknown number. It’s Jake, calling from the Old Duke jazz bar in Bristol city centre. Perfect timing.  Jake’s a guy I’ve known for 11 years, after an excellent set of encounters and serendipity in the techno rave days of the mid-1990’s. Not long after meeting him in Bristol, he bailed back to Canada, where I saw him and his lady (Liz) in 2003. Recently he’s been touring Europe with his new lady (Magda) and enjoying an income stream from their online business ticking over as they travel – all physical work outsourced.  So Jake and I have seen each other once since 1998, but it didn’t matter. I said goodbye to the Yellow Dawn crowd, then drove into town to the Old Duke to collect Jake and Magda.  Big smiles and massive hugs.  Back to Cosy Castle, a quick chance for them to freshen up before we all drove across town to Sonja’s…for a Halloween party. 

The Halloween party was fantastic.  Sonja made a huge effort with decorating the house up, as usual.  R___ had created a party game, involving a story about a young man found butchered on Glastonbury Tor, and had created six bags containing body parts. Everyone had to wear a blindfold, then stick a hand into each bag to identify the body parts. It was really grotesque… eyeballs, brains, intestines, liver…. Part of me was thinking: this is just spaghetti and other food things that feel gross, but another part of my mind was thinking: ugh, I hope this isn’t real. Very effective. Lots of squeals of disgust from everyone.  Jake and Magda slotted into the group as easily as raindrops in the sea… they were welcomed and enjoyed by everybody.

Sunday morning I cooked up a huge breakfast. R___ and Dan popped in from Sonja’s place. There were so many people there wasn’t enough room for people to sit!  Great atmosphere.  My sister bought a copy of the next book, Iron Man Project.  Then Dan bought a copy of the first book, God Seed.  And then Jake bought a copy of the recent book, Edge. For a few minutes it felt as if I was running a strange home-based book shop.  Bizarre but I’m very grateful and flattered.

We said cheerio to R____ and Dan.

Later that day we all rendezvoused at Arnolfini. Lovely coffee. I’m sooooo glad the Arnolfini has returned to long tables and bench seats, and ditched the irritating stuck-up concept art furniture. 

My sis and N____ returned to London.

Sunday night was just Jo and I, and Jake and Magda. We took a trip into the hills beyond Bristol, to the Upton Inn for an easy drink and good conversations by a log fire. Then back to Cosy Castle, snuggled up on sofas in the front room. Just lovely.

I popped upstairs for a bit of solo time and to catch up on emails. 

I had an email from my man in Germany, who’s been kind enough to front Yellow Dawn to the gaming community over there.  He’d gone to the Spiel in Essen this weekend, where he met up with Frank Heller, chief editor for Pegasus, a significant part of Chaosium's presence in Germany, and showed him Yellow Dawn to clear away and confusion about copyright and IP.  His response put my mind at rest, and, it seems, there could be some opportunities to work directly with Frank Heller on some official Yellow Dawn / CoC collaboration. Holy shit Batman!!!!!  I am totally over the moon and incredibly excited; even if it doesn’t come to anything, at least my work is being received in a positive light and people are buying into the potential of the Yellow Dawn world. Fantastic.

Meanwhile, I've decided to slash the prices of the majority of my products for a short time: no reason other than I'm curious to see what'll happen.  I've heard several people say, "Make things more expensive, and more people buy them." I guess the theory is the see it as having more value  / quality if it's expensive.  However, I’m thinking we're entering a recession so why not make things a little easier for a while?  At least I have control of my work where I can try such experiments.  I’ll probably push the prices back up to normal in a couple of weeks.  I’ll blog what the eventual outcome was.

I've been getting amazing feedback on edge from more and more people.  It looks like it’s being perceived as the best one yet?  I had a text from a friend this morning, it said: “Stayed up late finishing edge. Now I can’t sleep.”  I smiled, then looked at the time the text was sent: 7.36 A.M.  Damn!  I laughed out loud. 

Jake and Magda left Bristol this morning.  They’ve got a few more days in the UK, then they’re back to Toronto to pick up their lives.  Hopefully we can meet in New York when I next head that way.

I drove across the hills and open countryside to get to work late this morning; beautiful sunshine, and a golden light radiating from my heart and soul. It’s been such a fantastic few days.

Right now my head is spinning with things that need to be done, and opportunities to follow-up.

Djr

Letters - publicist - feedback on edge

This is an email from my publicist in New York.  I'm rather delighted, warts and all. The original mail contained massive give-aways to the ending of the book - so I've "XXXX'd" these out.

From: Floyd XXXXX [mailto:floydXXXXX@mac.com]
Sent: 23 October 2008 10:08
To: David Rodger
Subject: Edge Finsihed

Hello David

Well.  I finished 'Edge' as I often finish your books.  Sitting in a bar gently supping something.  I'm massively late for meeting someone.  My phone is off.  The rest of the world is off.  Engrossed, reading too quickly in a bid to see what the hell can happen next.

Edge was wonderful.  I always say this, but the latest book is my fave to date.  There is a lot I liked about this one.  The tight, intriguing location.  The characters felt real.  The banter was natural, funny and sharp.  The 'cyber' was there but not a central component, more like another character.  Deep Space was there, in the background as a reminder of the power held by the forces represented in the book.  The "monster" was there but not dialed up to an unbelievable degree.  The face Ethan had a "scientific" theory on the XXXXXXXX was a genius stroke.  Clearly it was a lot more than XXXXXXXXX but "what" was left to the imagination of the reader.  It was genuine horror.  Fucking nasty in places.  Fantastic!

I made a note last night, smiling, I wrote: "Dave's psycho neighbor has no idea of the silent horror in the mind of his "everyday" working neigbor, David." lol.  Then I remembered you actually do have a two handled axe.  He'd better behave no?  ha ha.

A few observations, in no order:

You mention 'horror show' 3 times towards the end (sorry made no note of page numbers).  That's 2 too many times.  By the 3rd time, it's lost it's power (at the chalet).

There seems to be too many shrinking balls references.  It's this books new 'power suit" - lol.  What is it with you and character's balls?

2nd paragraph on page 405, you mean "stopped" not "stopping."

I loved the twist about the XFG being used XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX.  I thought this was a deep thought.  Tools being used as XXXXXXXXXX and whether, ultimately, if that's a good thing or not.  Thinking of the Bomb on Japan here.  Would the Japanese really have continued if the Bomb hadn't been dropped (twice for fucksake)?  As I write there is some concern about India's space mission (and by extension it's missile power).    Great area to have explored and explored so intelligently.

Halo was a fine  character.  Complex.  I wasn't  sure how to take him, very multi-dimensional.  He was a greedy self-centered twat (but can't we all be like that at times?)  He  XXXXXXXXXX

****

That's it for now.  Thank you for an exhilarating  piece of entertainment.

F.

DJR NOTE: you can preview the first few pages of EDGE here

Sanctuary in the Sky Bunker

¦ dialling in ¦

18:41 GMT, Monday 20th Oct, I'm savouring the sanctuary of the Sky Bunker.  The frantic pace of the past few weeks continues.  I've been doing lots, but don't seem to have much to show for it?!  I've got new jacket designs for Dante's Fool and Iron Man Project: very pleased with those.  Excellent feedback on Edge so far - and thanks to those who've been pointing out the couple of typos that have sneaked in under the fence: keep the comments and error reports coming.

The short story anthology is going VERY slowly, and I'm beginning to hate the damn thing but, I want to do it, so, I'm going to do it.  But I'll certainly be giving it back-burner status after I've completed the review of the current story going in (Arnos Vale). 

The guys playing "Shadows of the Quantinex" have decided to take a plot route that plunges them into Deep Space...burrowing towards the original source of the Yellow Dawn epidemic.  Which is forcing my hand in regards to the Yellow Dawn supplement, "New Toyo, Orbit and Deep Space"... something that currently only exists as a few pages of notes in a PDF.

The more I think about writing up the "New Toyo, Orbit and Deep Space" supplement properly, the more excited I get.  It's a symptom of my old cycle returning... novel... RPG...novel...RPG.  I was hoping to start writing Dog Eat Dog this month but that's looking more and more unlikely, and I reckon it'll get placed entirely on hold until I finish this space supplement for Yellow Dawn.

Talking of Yellow Dawn. I've had a lovely bloke from Germany make contact. He's written up an article on a German Cthulhu blog site. Fantastic, and will hopefully generate further interest in the product. 

This weekend was a long one. And much needed.  I started with a fab night out with some of the Old Gang.  A nifty cocktail bar up in Clifton - you have to call in advance to book a table before you can get in... where Simon P generously covered the bill at the end of the night!!!  Thank you Simon. :o)

I discovered a new favourite drink: Rusty Nail. Ohhhhh yes!

Remarkably I woke up early on Saturday without even a trace of a hangover.

Saturday PM I had my first glimpse of PS3, and got to jump into Wipeout HD and Grand Theft Auto IV, both on online multiplayer mode. Holy crap.  I've been so stupidly busy and caught up in my own world for the past 2 years that I've entirely missed all the developments going on.  I was literally staggered and blown away by the experience.  The quality of the graphics, the virtual reality of the experience, sitting in the comfort and darkness of Vega$'s place...and interacting with other human beings across the globe via high-res avatars...I know what I'm getting for Christmas!

When I compare this to the PS experience I was having with Vega$ 10 years ago... man alive, what kind of VR insanity will be in place ten years from now?

Work was particularly difficult today: launched another new website (2nd one this month), the culmination of three months project management, and all the glory and applause was vaporised by a handful of users who didn't like the new forum.

Specifically, this is an issue around migrating from an old PHP-BB forum to BB-Press. 

I mainly feel sorry for the main developer, who's been putting his life blood into the thing for the past 6 weeks.  All attention focussed on the hate being generated by the forum users, rather than pleasure from and admiration of the whole spanking new site design and functionality.

Mind you, on a positive note, I've learned a ton of new stuff. So, hopefully, I won't get caught with my pants down like that again.  Everyone was taken by surprise on this one.

Am in London tomorrow, for work, then I've got a mad packed weekend: my sister arriving Friday night with her mate, to stay over; also Jake (from Canada, now living in Berlin) and his new lady, both staying over the weekend; a whole day of Shadows of the Quantinex on Saturday, and then a party in the evening. I think I'll be managing people's expectations all weekend.

I'm feeling a little weary, ragged, stressed and irritable.

I need a whole weekend of "Me" time.

The Cthulhu Mythos within my work

For the uninitiated I'm referring to the collective body of cosmic horror begun by the American author of horror, fantasy, and science fiction, Howard Phillips Lovecraft (1890 – 1937).  In particular, I'm referring to his Cthulhu Mythos, which contains within its black heart a pantheon of monstrous, god-like entities, and often describes the "sanity-shattering" consequences for those protagonists who foolishly attempt to learn more about them, or worse, interact with them.

This is a brief statement the role Mythos plays in my writing to capture the interest of Mythos fans.  None of the PR around my writing screams out "Cthulhu Mythos" bad guys.  However, two of my novels, God Seed, and EDGE, have significant Mythos elements. 

GOD SEED: see what an aspect of Nyarlathotep has in store for humanity.  Can documentary film-maker, Adam Kyle, stop it?  Or will Kyle merely capture a record of humanities demise. Preview or buy a copy here.

EDGE: after several millennia roaming the outer cosmos a potent Mythos entity - a Great Old One - has crawled back within our reality through a weak-spot in the Quantispheric boundary.  The remote mountain is now a snowboarding resort in New Zealand.  See the shocking consequences as its emergence corrupts the susceptible minds within the resort. Preview or buy a copy here.

Wishing you the best of dark dreams.

Djr

Die Tonight Live Forever

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

00:48 GMT, Sunday 12th October.  Black sky pressing down on the glass canopy above my head - sliced through with cold alabaster moonbeams.  Red lava lamp doing its thing on my desk, casting the room in a deep scarlet haze.  The new album by Inner Party System is screaming harmoniously from the speakers mounted on opposite corners of my desk.  At last!  I've been waiting months to get a hold of more of their music...ever since I fell in love with "don't stop" whilst surfing music video channels in a remote private villa in the mountains of Cyprus. 

Now that Edge is finished, the bundle of music I used for that creative vein has been relegated to an archive play list.  Solar Fields, Trentmoller, Entheogenic... deeply infused with the emotions of the novel; those albums will forevermore invoke the memories of that period of writing... just like so many albums for so many books going back into my history.  A real delight when I play them.

So I've been browsing new music with the intention of building up a play list for the next creative phase. This is a sample of what I've purchased:

() 8kHz Mono
() Aesthetic Perfection
() DeadMau5
() Empire of the Sun
() Inner Party System
() TV on the Radio

There is some blindingly awesome talent out there.

Doing the convention last weekend has had fantastic consequences.  New contacts.  A stronger presence.  The press release I sent out in its wake has generated further interest.

I've had some enjoyable correspondance from a bloke in Germany, who is proposing to write an article on Yellow Dawn for a major German Cthulhu blog. I'm flattered and delighted.

One outcome of this is yet another delay to me starting the new novel "Dog Eat Dog".  So this weekend I'm writing up an expansion pack for Yellow Dawn - something I'm intending to release as a free PDF - which allows GMs to swap out the whole Zombie threat and replace it with something new, something far more horrible and Mythos related.  Not sure if I'll get it finished before end-of-play Sunday... but I'm not working to any deadlines at the moment... so it can be yet another lesson in the difficult process of trying to relax. I actually spent a couple of hours sitting outside in the sun today, doing nothing!!! Wow!  Bliss.  And I didn't feel guilty about doing nothing. Even better!  So, I'll finish the expansion pack when I finish it. 

Big shout to Mary R in Toronto for all the positive words; to Floyd, my publicist in NYC, thanks for yet another massive push; and to Ms Blonde for being like a cyberspace character from one of my own novels.  *smiles*

Djr

EDGE - 4th novel - Offical Release

In the near future… 

At the age of 29, Ethan Carmichael is a leading inventor of new technology.  He accepts the invitation from an acquaintance, a man he barely knows, to take a snowboarding break at the Zen Dow resort.  At first it is just the elixir he needs, but events take a dark turn when people start to go missing.  

On the other side of the world is Halo Santana, an unscrupulous agent who preys on vulnerable minds with fresh ideas.  A random incident gives him a lead on a new technology that's vanished from a corporate R&D division, along with the scientist in charge. 

A malign and alien force is oozing into our reality, squirming across vast cosmic distances; radiating a malevolent and corruptive energy; sentient, older than humankind and growing strong again after centuries of absence.

Both men find their fate intrinsically entwined as events unfold with increasing tension, plunging them through heart-gripping scenes of terror.

You can see a preview or purchase a copy of the book here.

# # #

Author's note:

I know some of you have been chomping at the bit for this one to be finished. I just want to say thank you for all the prods (polite) and encouragement.  It's been a very flattering experience knowning so many people are now watching my work evolve. *gulp!*

Finally, I hope you enjoy the book. It's a return to the horror of H.P.Lovecraft's Mythos, blended with some corporate intrigue, greed and betrayal.  I'm hoping there's some engaging social situ's with the snowboarders in the small isolated community... I guess I'm hoping to create something similar to The Beach by Garland, but on snow. And with a crusty Great Old One waking up on the scene and causing mayhem. Let me know what you think.

Blood & Kisses

David

The Day After - the event

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

09:19 GMT, Sunday 5th October, 2008 - The day after the sci-fi lit & gaming convention. My first public appearance.  A fantastic and rewarding experience: just a shame the joy of the moment evaporated into incandescent rage shortly after leaving.

I'm wrapped in the thick wool comfort of Starsky and my massive knee-length wool socks...not a pretty sight but at least I'm warm. A couple more weeks like this and I can see my dragging life-support out from the cupboard.  The sky above my head is bright but grey, rain is whipping the landscape and hugging the ground with a fine mist: perfect Cthulhu weather. "Growing Hand" by Boards of Canada is ambiently wafting from the speakers.

Yesterday, Saturday morning, I was up at 6 A.M. then in my car, Swampy, to Hagens place; transferred all my merchandise and collateral into his car, then by 7.30 we were on the road... heading East... M4 towards London, cut North at the 8-9 junction and avoid the fekking M25.  I thought I would be nervous, apprehensive...I certainly was a few months ago, but now I was simply excited and looking forward to "showing my wares".

The venue was a small market town North West of London. As we cruised up outside the place, I saw a gathering of storm-troopers directing traffic. Brilliant!  They looked so cool: from a purely childhood-fantasy-transferred-into-the-eyes-of-an-adult point of view. 

The organisers were there to meet and greet. Wonderfully friendly, and organised!  Somebody was assigned to look after me.  I had two places: a table at a room downstairs for authors, and signings; and a table in a big room upstairs for game-demonstrations.

I chose the game-demo room, thank God.

Later in the day, even the event organisers commented on how strange the author room had become. Utterly void of atmosphere, some quite sullen-faced people, sat behind huge mounds of their books... not engaging with any of the punters who dared to step in there.  I thought: how much money have these people paid on printing out stock? Did they have some grand delusion before comming that people would flock to buy all their work?  I had brought a few copies of each of my books: I laid one of each out on the edge of the table upstairs in the much more lively game-demonstration room. The atmosphere up there was buzzing. I got to demonstrate "Yellow Dawn" to the punters.  I met interesting contacts.  I gained a useful perspective on where I am placed in the general context of the gaming industry.  I also recieved a lot of compliments, about Yellow Dawn, the quality of the product, the depth of the rule system, the diversity of scenario types possible within the world; a lot of this feedback came from people in the industry, so I was more than delighted.  Another delight, was the interest my novels recieved: I was away from the morose author-room downstairs. *grim smile*

Hagen, Mark and Simon (and wee Orson) were there.  Simon had his hands full with Orson, and was only able to stay for a couple of hours, but I was deeply touched by the show of support.

The organisers, Mr Lucas and Walter and their helpers, deserve vast applause for the sterling effort they put into this.  I think, however, that it wasn't the succeess they wanted or needed.  If they do put together another one: I'll certainly go again.

The incandescent rage: it involves the journey home. It's entirely unfair of me to be so angry, but, angry I am, and I refuse to conceal it.  What I believe to have been an unnecessary object had to be brought back in the car with us.  The object was so large and cumbersome it barely fit in the car.  I keep thinking about what would have happened if it hadn't fit?  We would have been in a terrible situation.  So that pisses me off.  As it was, the thing went in but took up so much room, some of my creative collateral had to be placed where it was exposed to risk...and sure enough, and I KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN, the poster boards were ruined.  After all the effort Stu put into making them for me, they're now fucked.  And then there was the whole "dog shit" incident.  And getting bashed in the side of the head several times as Hagen took hard corners and the object slammed over and into me.  Instead of coming home jubilant about the convention day, I came home tense and angry.  And I've been angry all night and all morning. Irrational, probably; unfair, definately, but there you go.

Just quaffed several mugs of strong coffee, munched a bacon sarnie and am now feeling more relaxed and human.

[]

One year into the new groove...

¦ dialling in from workstation ¦

12:05 GMT, Friday 3^rd October, 2008.  Beautiful autumn sunshine is flooding through the tall Napoleonic windows to my right… ice cold sunlight… it’s freezing here today.  I’m barely able to type these words I’m so flooded with adrenaline and excitement. So many things have happened this week. A fitting end to a period that marks one year of working in this job.  When I started here, back in October 2007, my life had struck a desperate junction.  I’d taken a huge gamble in 2005… and then, in 2007 with no money left in the bank, I was about to crash into mean streets.  But, at the 11^th hour, the amazing job came along and galvanised this new incarnation.

Since then I’ve learned a ton of new stuff in the work role, I’ve experience new pressures, the pains of failure and the blissful euphoric rush of succeeding. I’ve also finished Yellow Dawn 2^nd Edition; Shadows of the Quantinex; Red Desire Cold Murder; and a brand new novel, Edge.  It’s been a frenetic, fast paced, productive year.  I’m made new friendships and been able to cherish the old longstanding ones.

This week saw me surrendering my life for the job.  The deadline for a project was looming and so much work was still outstanding; technical issues were popping out of the woodwork; I had to come in early and work til late… my brain became so fried the idea of creative thought in my spare time was a fantasy…I came home, hot bath, crashed on sofa, then bed… soaking up as much sleep as I could muster before it all started again.  But then: go live.  Deadline met.  Technical issues resolved.  Applause.  Congratulations.  Feeling great.  I’ve got two more projects being delivered this month, but I’m feeling confident (at the moment) that we bring them in on time, and within budget.

Focussing so much on work, and being wiped out by it, has meant I’ve not been able to dedicate as much time as I needed to the upcoming sci-fi literature and gaming convention I’m attending this weekend… but rather wonderfully, people around me began to step into motion on my behalf: lots of little and not-so-little favours came my way, things were done, help was given. It’s been incredible.

Then this morning, I get a parcel from my publisher. It’s EDGE. It’s the new book. Wow.  It exists. I can hold it and flick through pages.  There’s one error… a cosmetic / superficial thing but I’d like to fix it before doing a full launch.  After the convention, so, I expect to launch middle of next week. Thanks to those of you who took the plunge and bought the proof version of the book: it looks great, I hope you enjoy the read.

That’s it. Ahh, I feel much calmer now. I’ve released some of the excitement through these words.

Djr

Where the Dead Slumber

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

20:04 GMT, Sunday 28th September.  "Apparat" by Arcadia (Invol2ver Remix) is playing by choice again, thumping through the large speakers on my desk.  Almost in a state of deja vu from yesterday... I woke up this morning and found the house isolated within dense walls of mist.  Bloody amazing, I thought, grinning and delighted by the eeriness of it.  I got dressed, necked a mug of tea, grabbed my camera, jumped into the car and drove across to Brislington, along empty mist-clogged roads, and pulled into Arnos Vale cemetery...praying the mist would remain long enough for me to get the kind of shots I was looking for.

There's another reason why I was so keen to get to the cemetery.  I've been doing this anthology of short stories, and the one I've just started working on is called "Arnos Vale", a ghost story set within this very cemetery. So it was good to be able to refresh my memory to the magical and macabre atmosphere of the place.

Leaving the car I headed up a recently renovated path, and quickly found myself truding along soft earth tracks between oddly leaning headstones, all sight or sense of the outside world hidden by the mist. 

Got some good shots.

And then the sun began to burn through, creating the most divine light show... truly beautiful and incredibly uplifting to behold.

I trudged my way uphill to the abandoned caretakers house and the wound down the big sweeping single-lane road back to my car.  Leaving, I felt as though I'd spent time in an entirely seperate world from our own.

You can check out the photos in the Recent Work section of this page on my website:
http://www.davidjrodger.com/index-3.html

Enjoy

David

Welcome back Arnolfini

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

18:06 GMT, Saturday 27th September 2008.  "Apparat" by Arcadia (Invol2ver Remix) is ambiently thudding away through the large speakers mounted either side of my desk.  A blissful, golden light is seeping through the canopy above my head.  It's been a day of atmosphere.  Woke up late and was delighted to find the view of the city hidden beyond a vast wall of dense mist.  Bright grey light filled the house.  The mist lingered on until well past midday, then Oj and I headed into town...and the sun finally burned through, and the day became blissfully hot.

We grabbed coffee at the Arnolfini; I was delighted to see the cafe has returned to its original format of long table benches where random strangers can get to share each others space.  It was the big delight of the Arnolfini from olden days, ruined several years ago when some poncy dick-head designer decided to ruin it by filling it with hard, angular, furniture of shocking colours, along with blood red walls... at which point I abandoned the place and vowed never to be a customer again.  But, somebody has obviously seen sense and thrown away the designer junk, and brought back soft colours and long wooden seats... and hopefully drowned the original dick head in the river outside.

Jo and I sat for an age, watching the boats go up and down the harbour area.

Now the sun is entering an accelerated descent... the mist has returned, ground hugging, glowing in the golden autumnul light.

Beautiful.

I've not done any work on Dog Eat Dog for a couple of weeks now.  Other things have taken my time: the short story anthology; a total redesign and rebuild of my website; creating all the PR collateral to take to the convention next weekend: I'm there as a guest. Gulp!  MY first public appearance. Double-gulp!

Luckily work is insane enough to keep my mind more than occupied.  I'm currently running three projects in parallel: delivery dates are looming; one is this Wednesday; next is the 7th of Oct, and the third project is due on the 30th.  Several months of work and planning are all converging on these dates. Triple-gulp.

Place of Execution – Surreal moment where TV meets Reality

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

08:10 GMT, Tuesday 23^rd September 2008. Sunbeams streaming in through the canopy above my head.  Bright blue sky.  The air has that early autumn chill.  A moment of extreme surrealism last night.  Yesterday morning I woke up at 4.30AM in Newcastle, in my mum’s house in Jesus Mound, to prepare for my flight back to Bristol later in the day.  It was dark outside and I had some soft lighting on.  Skip a few hours and I’m back in my house in Bristol after a day at work.  I’m settled on a sofa, watching a new crime drama on ITV, starring Juliet Stevenson… part of the story involves her visiting her character’s daughter at a grandmothers house.  Cue: my mum’s house.  It was last Christmas when I met a bloke called Gareth at a party at Pete’s house (mum’s neighbour). We struck a connection.  I asked if he liked whisky. Yes, he responded.  I took him next door to my mum’s house.  When he stepped inside he started gazing around the place with a curious expression of delight and professional scrutiny. Turns out he’s the location manager for a TV production company. “I have to use this place,” he said.  So, plans are made.  The production company hires my mum’s house to film this part of the drama.

Last night I’m watching it on national TV, and I’m seeing Juliet Stevenson standing next to the oak refectory table where I started writing in 1989; she’s standing beside the big comfy sofa where I had my cup of tea earlier that morning; I can see photos of my friends and my family on the walls…very, very, surreal.

It’s a 3 part drama, another two to go, each Monday at 9pm. Look out for Juliet Stevenson’s “grandma’s” house where she has camped her daughter.

Djr

Jesus Mound - easy bubble

¦ dialling in from Jesus Mound ¦

17:09 GMT, Sunday 21st September, 2008. "Horizons" by L T J Bukem is playing through laptop speakers on random.  Soft grey light flooding through skylights above me and the french doors to my left. It's cold up here in Newcastle... meanwhile, the rest of England is baking in a true summer heat. Go figure. 

It's been a lovely few days, as usual. Not much relaxing going on. Following on from my bizarre 2.30am wake-up the other morning, when I decided to redo my website, I've continued the redesign and rebuild. Made excellent progress and I'm very pleased with the new look and feel. 

I'm shaking my fist at Jason A (work colleague), as I've picked up his man-flu and I'm now "enjoying" the rapid development of the symptoms.  Quite spacey.  So I'm going to throw some big logs into mum's cast-iron wood burner and get a fire going, then settle down in the rocking chair with a big glass of wine and just lose myself for the evening.

I've got a 5AM start tomorrow morning, got to get to the airport and catch a flight back to Bristol. Then work.

Djr

EDGE, 4th novel, almost ready for launch

¦ dialling in from Jesus Mound ¦

14:00 GMT, Friday 19th Sept 2008. Sitting at the solid oak refectory table, grey light pouring in through skylights above, a view of the lush green forest beyond the garden to my left.  I'm in Newcastle.

I finished the review process yesterday.  My editor finished Thursday night and handed over a list of changes for the final chapters.  Part of me was frustrated, wanting to celebrate that ultimate sense of closure there and then; but I put my bottom lip away and Friday lunchtime, I got down to working through the changes.

Friday night I flew from Bristol to Newcastle.  So now I'm sitting at the same table where I began writing, in 1989, after leaving my job at the tender age of 19. I've just sent the files across to the publisher.  I should get my first proof copy back from them in a couple of weeks, so I can check everything is as it should be: mainly the front cover art, etc.

Then I should be ready to press GO and start publicising.

I'm acutely aware, and delighted, that many people have been chomping at the bit for this one to be finished, so, if you don't want to wait, and are willing to take a risk, you can buy a copy now...or preview the first few pages of the book. 

 Just click here.

I'm so excited I don't know what else to say.

Ta-ta for now,

Djr

Crazy Chronicles 3 --- Death of Budokan Bristol --- Review Progress 71-74

¦ dialling in from workstation ¦

08:53 GMT, Wednesday, 17^th Sept 2008.  A drab grey light seeps through the tall Napoleonic window to my right.  Not entirely unpleasant.  I’m playing some old Enigma tracks through the big speakers either side of my work PC. I hooked up with Garry G last night, and long time friend from my days in the Agency.  He’s still there, and his stories of recent changes within the culture there mirror the stories told to me by Nice Guy Tony (also still there).  A shame, I suppose, and a reinforcement of the fact I’m so glad I bailed out of there.  As Garry G said it, “You were brave David, you showed extraordinary courage.”

Garry G and I met up in Budokan, in Bristol. A pan-Asian eating house that I’ve been going to for over 10 years now.  It’s been a regular haunt for Garry and I throughout our friendship.  We arrived 6,30 and grabbed a table straight away. It took over an hour to get our food. We complained. The manager argued back.  My hackles went up, “Don’t argue,” I told him.  He continued to argue.  I compared him to a MacDonald’s Manager with 1 star rating.  I congratulated him on ruining my dinning experience, and the brand of Budokan, and told him I’d never be eating there again.  I walked out without paying a penny.  Garry hung back, extended the argument, and finally got an apology from the manager.  Garry walked out without paying a penny. So, Budokan, once a great place to eat, now a mismanaged joke. Shame.

Crazy Chronicles.  I got home late from Budokan.  Late enough for the bloke next door to have consumed enough booze to throw him into rant mode.  I could hear him through the thick stone walls of the house as I walked in.  He was repeating the same phrase over and over; this was a different phrase to last time. I went upstairs to the bathroom to get a better listen. 

“Do you swear an Oath to mumble something mumble,” he shouted; then followed with “YES SIR”

“Do you swear an Oath to mumble something mumble,” he shouted; then followed with “YES SIR”

“Do you swear an Oath to mumble something mumble,” he shouted; then followed with “YES SIR”

And so it repeated; his voice deep and strong despite the slur of alcohol.

After a while he went quiet, then started up again, this time with:

“Are you Royal Scots Guards?”

“NO SIR”

“What are you?”

“Royal Canadian Regiment”

And again…

“Are you Royal Scots Guards?”

“NO SIR”

“What are you?”

“Royal Canadian Regiment”

And so it repeated.

Later it changed into something emotional; he wouldn’t swear an Oath to the Queen. Fuck the Queen (his words). Who was his father: Army.  Who was his mother: Army.

At one point I heard his voice break and quiver. He was crying.  My irritation and curiosity switched to compassion and guilt. I feel sorry for the man.  Whatever has he been through to make him like this. But then I’m also torn by the notion of home and safety. This is my home, this is where I am safe. If I reach out to help…. I risk the drowning man syndrome. 

He piped down before midnight. No doubt comatose.

Switching subject to EDGE.  I’ve scheduled time with my editor for tonight… picking up at chapter 71 out of 74. So, I’m hoping to get it finished tonight.  Whoo-hoo. Fingers crossed and all that jazz.  I’m flying up to Newcastle Thursday for the weekend… so with any luck the book will be available from early next week. Watch this space.

Djr

Crazy Chronicles - part 2

02:49 GMT, Tuesday 16^th Sept 2008.  I snapped awake in the dark a little earlier.  Jo snuggled next to me.  My mind switches into high activity and I think, “shit”, I know I’m not going to get back to sleep. I slip out of bed, pull on Starsky and my big thick wool Norwegian socks and pad downstairs. Brew a mug of tea.  I see by the kitchen clock it’s just past 2.30 in the morning, and I’m wide awake. Ho-hum.  I’m in the mood to tinker with my website.  I’m about start looking into CSS styles, something I’ve never used before.

So an update to the Crazy Chronicles.  After I posted the previous blog entry, I went upstairs to see Jo… she was in the bath.  We could hear the man screaming, screaming like somebody being stabbed repeatedly.  The sounds stopped, and then, began again. Weird.

Last night I pulled up outside my house after work. No sign of Jo’s car, she was working late; instead, there was the nutter’s car, parked in the MIDDLE of the road, blocking it, outside our house.

I parked in the small driveway, walked to the front door, giving the car a long look. It was empty of persons.  Lights off.  Engine still.  Jesus, what is the guy playing at?

As I open my front door, a woman steps round the corner from the adjoining house; it’s the woman who lives by herself, below the nutter.  We’ve not really spoken before.  We stand together and discuss the events, in hushed voices. 

“Have you heard him?” she asks, visibly distressed.

“Can’t miss it,” I reply.

It transpires he’s not bought the house, but is a tenant in the upstairs section….the owner has been alerted to the man’s antics.  In fact, the nutter hasn’t paid his rent since moving in just over a month ago. So, interesting times ahead.  Will he depart in the middle of the night.  Will he drag the owner through the courts for non-payment, whilst his character deteriorates further into madness?

 Djr

I am Adolf Hitler - I am the IRA

18:54 GMT, Sunday 14th Sept, 2008.  These rather provactive words came rumbling through the wall connecting my semi-detached house to its counterpart.  It transpires my gut feelng about a new bloke who moved in a few weeks ago, is correct.  My wariness was first alerted when I drove home one evening, to see a middle-aged man dressed in a grubby black T-shirt, baggy trousers, sandals, wearing a shiny silver bandana on his wrinkled head; a sun-burned, deeply weathered face, with a ruddy skin complexion similar to those of the tramps that frequent the Parisian square near to where I work. As I parked up and got out of my car, he said hello: a heavy American or Canadian drawl.  Hello back, I smiled.  He tried to engage further, my instincts were to recoil so I kept the conversation very casual, no personal details.

I'm not adverse to meeting new people. I'm very comfortable in most social situations and have dealt with many bizarre scenarios.  I'm not bad mouthing a random human being.  But, the man is not right. 

Over the next few weeks I've encountered him several times outside the house: he stands there, chain smoking fags, and engaging with anybody he percieves as a neighbour.  I guess he's lonely.  Sympathy kicks in, but then is crushed by that gut feeling to stay wary. 

A few nights ago I could hear his distinctive, deep-rumbling voice through the thick 19th century stone walls of the house. He had to be shouting.  I figured he was probably drunk. Except the string of words kept repeating; I was trying to sleep, I couldn't really hear what he was saying except the word "FUCK" repeated a lot.

Then tonight, early evening, I'm climbing the stairs up to the Sky Bunker and I hear his voice... and a loud repetive thumping, like a skull or fist being slammed against stone. And I hear his words: "I am Adolf Hitler, I am the IRA. Mumble mumble. Mumble Mumble. Fuck.  I am Adolf Hitler, I am the IRA. Mumble mumble. Mumble Mumble. Fuck.  I am Adolf Hitler, I am the IRA. Mumble mumble. Mumble Mumble. Fuck." 

THUMP!!!

Skull or fist.

Repeat.

His voice has that thick-tongued slur of inebriation or sedation: a tonal range I'm familiar with from my childhood years.

After a couple of minutes it all goes quiet.

So, ladies and gentleman, I have a nutter as a neighbour.

Joy.

On a positive note, the play test of "SHadows of the Quantinex" went swimmingly well yesterday. A 7 hour session that culminated in some true adrenaline charged scenes. After the guys left, I got a call from my lady saying "come to Upton CHeyney and join us". So I jumped into Swampy and headed east, through night cloaked roads, delighted to see a gibbous moon shining down from a sky that was almost aubergine in colour... a scattering of bright stars, and as I left the city behind, entering the open hills of the countryside near my house, the moon threw the trees lining the road into stark silhouette.  My window was down.  The air was chill.  I had a tape (yes a cassette) of some mid-90's Orbital playing: Wick Road Days on the label.  It was a great moment to remember.

The pub at Upton Cheyney is a fantastic country pile of stone and thick glass windows, with warm light seeping out. Good beer, great food.

On a negative note, I'm really struggling with this short story anthology. I've fallen on the first hurdle, this bloody short story ANGEL POLICE. I bloody hate it. Grrrr. But, I'll keep fighting on with it and hopefully deliver something somebody wants to read.

Over & Out.

Djr

66 - 74 Review Progress

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

06:58 GMT, Saturday, 13th September 2008.  An eerie mist is squirming slow-motion against the canopy above my head.  Early morning light filtering through it.  The air has a damp, sea-like quality, although I'm suspecting it might be a bright and sunny day today. Which is a bugger... I've an all day Yellow Dawn session scheduled to start at 12 noon today: the play-testing of Shadows of the Quantinex continues.  I'm at my desk, with "Paint a Rumour" by Eurythmics is playing by choice... I'm in the mood for early Lennox and Stewart, their music always conjures a rather wonderful memory/vibe/ emotion based on who I was as as teenager... lots of Lovecraft, Cthulhu and RObert Ludlum.  I'm wearing Starsky and my big thick wool Norwegian socks but life-support is still tucked away in a cupboard: I'm hoping to resist the need to bring out Life SUpport for as long as possible.

It's been a light-speed week.  Quite a bit of stress at work, but not the kind of thing to put me off the job; indeed, I woke up in the dark early hours yesterday morning, aspects of various projects skimming through my mind... but it wasn't as though I was lying there being kept away with traumatic worry, instead, I was lying there revelling in the excitement of what I'm involved in.  Sickening, isn't it.  To love your job. *smiles*

The general hiatus from my writing is drawing to a close.  I stayed late at the office last night, missing an invite to head out with the guys for drinks, in order to press on with the short story anthology [no working title yet].  I'm currently revamping "Angel Police"... actually, revamp is an understatment.  I'm totally rewriting the heap of shit.  At last!!!  Angel Police has stumped me several times before, when I've attempted a revamp... it's a huge, cumbersome pile of doo-doo... and I'm looking forward to extracting the gold-dust and setting that down in its pure form, a much shorter, short-story :o).

I'm still progressing with Dog Eat Dog, although my phase of working-up the notes in preparation to start writing is on pause, whilst I work on the short-story Anthology.  Instead, I'm using this period to write all the "Blog" entries that will appear in the novel, as inserts between various chapters.  The blog entries will allow me to explain the setting of Yellow Dawn, the "what happened" without bogging down the narrative of the main characters in loads of contrived exposition.

EDGE... gah, I hit my first major mess.  My editor wrinkled her face in dislike, at several aspects of chapter 66, and a weak aspect of one of the main characters.  So, I spent Friday lunchtime going in deep into the structure of the book, ripping out a particular "ghost" that plagues one of the characters (A.R.) throughout the book; the reason was simple: at the end of the story, the ghost actually serves no purpose. It was eerie.  It was intriguing, but at the very end... so what, you would ask yourself. So, gone it is.

Today's Yellow Dawn session is going to preclude any work with the editor , and Sunday she's busy, so...  I'm now looking at the tail end of next week before the Edge is finished and ready to send to publisher.

I've had a couple copies of all my work delivered to my house, in preparation for the Convention I'm attending in October.  I'm not going to turn up with a stack of books to sell.  This is my first public event.  I've no idea how well I'll be recieved, or if I'll be the sad billy-no mates sitting alone, so I'm intending to use the convention as a showcase, rather than a sales-event.

RIght, time to brew up another mug of tea and then get down to Angel POlice. Then a snuggle with Jo, and a bit of a lie-in, before all the guys come round at noon.

Over & out.

Djr

Letters - God Seed feedback

This is an e-mail from a good friend of mine. Regarding the novel God Seed . It made me smile...

62 - 74 Review Progress

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

08:10 GMT, Friday 5^th Sept. A solid wall of rain is pressing against the canopy above my head.  A dark, brooding sky.  Fantastic.  Feeling a little groggy today.  Stayed up late last night, after great session with my editor.  She’s now into the big reveal… and it was great seeing her getting caught up in the adrenaline and the horror.  At one point her mobile phone started to ring, and she physically jumped and shouted with shock, so engrossed in scene was she.  I chuckled with delight.

Back home, downstairs, I cracked open a big bottle of Leffe and dropped into a sofa and browsed music video channels.  I was rewarded with some real delights… I discovered some bands that are new to me, with the kind of sounds and vibes that I adore:

“Olympic Airwaves” by the Foals http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DMuD3DBskpg

“Runaway” by Ladytron http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PHMynl9QX7g

“No Handlebars” by Flobots   http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AuK2A1ZqoWs

It was kind of odd, chilling on the sofa, supping beer, watching these “young” talents and feeling a little bit like an old man.  Seeing a new generation emerge.  New human beings with all the ideals and aspirations forged by new technology and cultural rhythms.  Seriously impressed by the quantity of new sounds entering the music arena these days.

**EDIT: 12:18 GMT, dialling in from Work Station.  I went to the Boston Tea Party this morning before work.  Lovely moment, sitting down at a small square table of dark wood… aware of the cold air blowing in through the door wedged open, feeling a little chill, but clasping the hot mug between both hands and soaking up the warmth…

I’m making good progress with fleshing out a “blog” concept for Dog Eat Dog: the idea is to create a separate “story within a story”, made up of blog fragments being collected by a person not connected to the novel. This will allow me to explain the background to Yellow Dawn, without having to add in loads of contrived exposition within the main character narratives.  However, I’m sensing how BIG a project Dog Eat Dog is becoming, and I know there’s no way in hell I have the energy to hammer it out in a few months like EDGE… so, I’m two minds. (1) Start Dog Eat Dog in October, as planned, but operate with an easy pace… no crazy life consuming drive to finish. Or (2), leave Dog Eat Dog for now; and focus on something less intense: I want to put together an anthology of my short stories; I also want to write up the supplement for Yellow Dawn, “New Tokyo, Orbit and Deep Space”.

Man, sooo much to do, and only one life to do it in.  *smiles*

Djr

Get your story into the new novel by the creator of Yellow Dawn

WANTED

--------------

Any personal account of zombie horror or post-apocalyptic survival.  It can be based on your real life with some creative license.  It can be a work of pure fiction.

DETAILS

-------------

I’m currently working up notes for the new novel, Dog Eat Dog.  I’m planning to start writing it Winter 2008.  Dog Eat Dog is going to be the first novel set within the world of Yellow Dawn (Age of Hastur), the game I created based on the world of my fictional writing taken through an apocalyptic event.  The novel will include “blog” fragments from survivors – and victims – of the catastrophic event known as Yellow Dawn.  I’m keen to gather a collection of disparate stories from fresh minds to include as “blog” fragments in the novel.

WHAT TO PROVIDE

------------------------------

No more than 500 words.  An account, in your own words, in any style, of going through the Yellow Dawn event; the zombie epidemic; surviving some kind of incident; loss of family and friends.

WHAT YOU GET

------------------------

Your name in the acknowledgements, and, if you ask for it, I’ll use your name as the blog-author in novel.

RIGHTS & LEGAL STUFF

-------------------------------------

By submitting any work to me you assign me all rights to use the material in any format, for any purpose.  You also confirm the work is your own and that you take responsibility for any infringement of copyright incurred if you use other people's work.  You also assign me the right to edit your words, should I need to.  You surrender any rights to retract the work or change your mind regarding the use of your name (if you asked for it to be included as the blog-author).  

BACKGROUND

-----------------------

If you’re unfamiliar with the world of Yellow Dawn, or want to refresh your memory.  Read about the shocking events behind the Outbreak, and the subsequent 2nd wave that brought terror snarling and screaming on the heels of the tragedy. “Yellow Dawn - What Happened.”  You can download the PDF here:

CLICK HERE TO DOWNLOAD

CONTACT: if you would prefer to email the material to me, send it to:  clovenfeet (at) h0tma1L (d0t) c0m

52 - 74 Review Progress

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

05:15 GMT, Wednesday 3^rd September.  Strange to be awake at this time; I’m supposed to be taking time-out from the hard work ethic.  Well, kind of.  I got back from work last night, spent an hour chilling then met up with my editor.  We worked on Edge until 10.30 PM.  Great progress.  I’m well on-target to have the book out by October.

I turned 38 over the weekend.  It was a good birthday.  I went to the Boston Tea Party on Park Street, met Simon P for breakfast, coffee and catch-up. Chowed down on scrambled eggs on toast with smoked salmon; divine.  Back home. Chilled out with some old PS2 games. The evening saw Oj, GBH and myself sitting outside the Arnolfini cafe, soaking up a lovely sunset and drinking beer…like old times. I saw somebody walking past carrying a PIEMINSTER box.  I shouted across, “Hey, where did you get that?”  The girl smiled and pointed at a small festival event thing taking place across the water.  We headed over there and grabbed the last pies available.  Blissto.  Hot PIEMINSTER pies with mash and gravy on my birthday.  I was very happy.  Then it was a late night visit to Sonja’s; she had the chimenia going, and visitors…including Rekke, from London, and her boyfriend.  A good crowd.  Lots of wine and laughter.

I had a random and delightful phone call from South Africa yesterday.  A long while ago I joined a Facebook group called COGNITION FACTOR. I recently got an email from the group advising me the independent film / documentary was finished and the trailer now viewable.  I pinged the film-maker, Mike Kawitzky, a message.  Mike wrote back.  We started a digital exchange.  I punted his PR collateral across to some magazine editors I’ve got access to, see what happens.  Mike asked for my work number and rang me: an animated, slightly crazy and enthusiastic character on the other end of the phone. It was good banter. 

Here’s a (YOU TUBE) trailer for the film: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B3sUti6324Q

Progress with working up notes for Dog Eat Dog is going well.  Because most of the work is already done, I’ve been able to print out hardcopies and work from those, without needing to rely on a fekking laptop… meaning I’ve been able to drop into a café every morning (Boston Tea Party, in Bath) and work with paper and pen.  This is something I love doing.  Good coffee.  Pure ideas formed from the tip of a pen.  No computer.    

One of the design guys at work is also an artist, and he’s become enthused by the background story of YELLOW DAWN; to the point he’s grabbed loads of collateral from me and is currently working on a piece of Yellow Dawn “art”.  I’m totally chuffed.

[]

Can Yellow Dawn be pilfered for Cthulhu Tech?

This is an interesting thread that sprung up on the "Yellow Dawn Group" on Facebook.

Post #1

Felix Girke (Germany) wroteon Apr 22, 2008 at 7:59 AM

Well, what the title says. Specifically, I am curious about whether this one would play well with CthulhuTech, not as in having matching backgrounds, but in containing pilferable and congenial elements.
Suggestions?

Post #2

Christopher Paul Halliday wroteon Sep 1, 2008 at 4:39 AM

In terms of background, the game is most similar to GDW's old Dark Conspiracy game, in that it mixes elements of a fallen cyberpunk future with Lovecraftian horror. The world is well thought-out and contains some nicely stealable groups, monsters and locations. Where it really shines is the systems it has for creating off-the-cuff explorations into zombie-infested cities; my first Yellow Dawn game was a "Dead City Run", and it was absolutely terrifying. What made it scarier was the fact that my fellow players had done many of these, and were equally terrified! I'm pretty sure the Dead City Run system could easily be adapted to most games.

I haven't played CthulhuTech, but from what I've seen it could well be a possible future of the Yellow Dawn world. In Yellow Dawn, much of the world is in post-traumatic shock after the plague and subsequent zombie apocalypse, but it's getting back on its feet. Supernatural events and magic are increasingly common, but most people are still skeptical - it's still a very materialist world, and day-to-day life is hard enough without folks believing in extradimensional monstrosities.

The nice thing about the game world is that it's detailed in just the right places, while giving the GM plenty of space to create his own setting elements without being stifled.

 

 

________________________

THE ORIGINAL THREAD CAN BE FOUND HERE: http://www.facebook.com/topic.php?uid=5905287135&topic=4391

Regards

Djr

The Utter Incompetence of BT (British Telecom) and Orange (France Telecom)

I have a BT landline.

My girlfriend can get a special deal from Orange on broadband: the deal requires her to have a BT landline.

The solution is simple: I sign-over my BT landline to my girlfriend.

I ring up BT and after speaking to several people in India, and repeating my request several times, I finally get through to somebody who can close down my account.  I’m told my girlfriend will have to ring up and open a new account under her name.  I say “But we can keep our telephone number, yes?”   BT say yes.

My girlfriend rings and after speaking to several people in India, and repeating her request several times, she finally gets through to somebody who can open a new account in her name.  She explains she needs to take over the existing phone number that was in my name.  She asks “We can keep our telephone number, yes?”   BT say yes.

My girlfriend contacts Orange and sets up the broadband account… Orange require our BT phone number, which they will be piping the broadband through.  My girlfriend gives them our phone number.

A couple of weeks pass.

The wifi router from Orange arrives in the post.  I plug it in, follow the set-up instructions, I follow the authentication process… dialling into the Orange computer network.  Within 20 minutes I’m online and surfing. Yippeeeee!  That was so smoothly executed, I’m delighted.

Nobody can ring us at home. Hmmm.  I find that our phone number isn’t working.  I find have actually been given a new phone number.

Hmmm.

After two days the Broadband stops working.

I ring Orange.  The techy guy wants me to try reinstalling the software… testing the router… blah blah blah… Oh! It must be a problem with my firewall.  No, it’s not the  router, it’s not my firewall… I’ve already explained this to you at the START OF THE CONVERSATION... BT changed my phone number against our wishes… which means we no longer have the number we registered with you guys.  Can you fix it?”

Orange say no.  I have to get BT to change my number back to the original number.

Right. Fine.  Okay.

I ring BT… after speaking to several people in India, and repeating my request several times, I finally get through to somebody who can swap our number back… but it will take 10 days. WHAT? TEN DAYS? Yes, ten days.  “Okay, go for it,” I say.

So I have no broadband and my friends can’t call me on the number they have listed for us.

5 days go by… nothing’s happened.

My girlfriend rings BT… after speaking to several people in India, and repeating her request several times, she finally get through to somebody who tells her the person I spoke to five days ago didn’t raise a request to change the number back.  WHAT?  She’s told that they can raise a request now, but it will take 10 days. TEN DAYS????!!!! 

My girlfriend tells them they can do it in five days, and if it’s not done in five days she’ll be calling them to discuss compensation.

5 days go by… nothing has happened.

My girlfriend rings BT to complain.  The BT person argues back… “why do you need to change your number back… can’t you tell your friends your new number?”  My girlfriend is flabbergasted.  She escalates, speaks to the BT agent’s manager… the BT manager argues back… despite the fact BT have changed our phone number against our wishes…despite the fact BT’s mistake has ruined our broadband for several weeks and prevented us getting calls from friends and family…. BT have no intention of apologising or giving us compensation.

My girlfriend was in tears.. angry and frustrated.

I am disgusted by BT’s lack of customer care and incompetent service.  If we didn’t need the BT landline for the broadband I would stay a thousand light years from this vile corporation.

4 days go by and bingo! Our BT number changes back to what it was before this debacle began.  Our friends can call us. Yay!  I try to connect to Orange broadband. No connection.  Nothing. Dead.

I ring Orange… I explain that BT messed up our phone number, and that when I authenticated our broadband account… we were dialling in with a different phone number than the one registered with Orange. The Orange agent wants me to try reinstalling the software… testing the router… blah blah blah… Oh! It must be a problem with my firewall.  No, it’s not the  router, it’s not my firewall… I’ve already explained this to you at the START OF THE CONVERSATION... BT changed my phone number against our wishes.  The broadband was working fine, until YOUR computer system killed the service…obviously because it discovered an inconsistency in phone numbers.  I’m getting nowhere with this woman so I tell her to escalate.

So… tonight will be the grand reveal.  I’m expecting a phone call from an Orange Techy tonight. 2^nd line support…I hope. 

Already I’m feeling tense… angry and frustrated, anticipating a useless and pointless conversation with somebody unable to help.

Watch this space.

**EDIT: 29th Aug.  The Orange engineer rang me last night. He was polite and apologetic.  He didn't ask me to reinstall the software.  He didn't try to tell me it was my firewall or that BT were the problem. He said, "I looked at your fault log and it says you called us back on the 4th of August.  You're right...we did kill your broadband because your phone had changed. I understand that was BT's fault.  Somebody should have spotted this and ordered you a new broadband connection.  I can do that now for you... but here's the bad news..."

I interrupted him and finished his sentence, "Let me guess... it will take 10 days to activate this?"

He sounded uncomfortable.  "Er, yes.  I'm sorry."

I couldn't get angry with him.  He'd been quite lovely.  I just accepted the fact that both BT and Orange as corporate entities need to seriously sort out their customer service training policy.

Djr

Dog Eat Dog - Early Phase. And Hellboy II equals poo.

¦ dialling in from workstation ¦

13:03 GMT, Wednesday 27th August 2008.  Grrrr.  Sitting at my workstation, grey light seeping through the big Napoleonic window to my right... a view of Bath's historic architecture.  I've been blasting out Rob Zombie through the meaty speakers on my desk... everyone's saying, "Dave's playing his angry music."  Yes, I am angry.  I've had resources nabbed from one project; and a late-stakeholder changing the designs for another project; my delivery schedule has all gone to hell.  Grrrr.  Grrrr. Grrrr.

On a plus note, I've just consumed a tasty bagel from the whole-bagel shop. Very nice too. I'm now listening to Gary Numan - "Jagged" Album. Tres cool.

I went out to see Hellboy II last night... sadly lacking any of the charm that made the first Hellboy any good. I would avoid Hellboy II at all costs.  It's so dire it's not even worth a glimpse on DVD.  A shame because it does contain some excellent elements, particularly the stupendous CGI, and the Elven prince character... but the excellence is dilluted by the shabby storyline; atrocious musical score; a farcical German character who suddenly changes personality near the end of the film without any reason/explanation... there was also a lame attempt at exploring the emotional bond between Hellboy and his girl... and a "troll market" that was yet another stupid Hollywood stage set with lots of people in rubber costumes, carrying all the hallmarks of the bar scene in the original Star Wars movie.

Yet, I did have a rather lovely memory created late last night: after the film I dropped a work collegue off at Temple Meads train station. Driving back through late night streets, in a fine haze of rain, I decided to turn off into the Paintworks complex, parked up and went into the Boca Bar on my own.  It was quiet, almost empty... low lights...lots of small candles in coloured glass bowls... heavy bass music throbbing through the exposed metal girders of the warehouse-like structure... I grabbed a beer and sat down in a big leather sofa... the gentle light seemed to infuse itself into the beer glass and my beer actually glowed amber... highlighting the frosted condensation on the outside of the chilled glass. Perfecto.  I pulled out my notes for Dog Eat Dog, supped beer, read and reworked little bits here and there: Carlos Revira and Mikhail Drobna doing their thing.

[]

25 - 74 Review Progress

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

18:33 GMT, Monday 25^th Aug 2008.  Kneeling on my ergonomic stool, supping a freshly brewed coffee, savouring its bitter flavour and ruminating over the pleasant vibe of this long bank holiday weekend.

I woke up Saturday morning and experienced a moment I’ve not had in… months.  I had nothing to do.  No deadlines.  Nothing.  No urgency.  No demands.  Nothing planned. Fantastic.  I lay there and savoured a lie-in.  Then I got up, threw on some clothes and jumped onto a local bus: rather than take my car.  Enjoyed a slow ride into town.  Walked around.  Found a café.  By 9.30 I was sitting in the Boston Tea Party on Park Street, supping coffee and browsing through my notes for the next novel, Dog Eat Dog.  No laptop.  Just paper and pen.  I’ve decided to delay starting the new book until October, after the sci-fi lit / gaming convention I’m appearing at.  Meanwhile, I’m taking a relaxed attitude to reviewing Edge. It’ll be done when it’s done.  This has given me the mental breathing space to look at the Dog Eat Dog plot with a calm eye: I’m looking for errors, I’m looking for ways to improve the plot before I start the writing process.

Leaving the Boston Tea Party, I strolled down Park Street, went into the Cathedral and lit a candle for dad.  It was good to be there and remember him. 

Then I wandered around the city, finding the physical structure of the place contains memories of various incarnations of me as a person in Bristol: from 1991, when I first moved here as a 21 year old… to 1998, working for the gov-agency, writing Dante’s Fool (Heist) and clubbing in a big way… to last year, 2007, wandering around these streets, looking for work, a little apprehensive about my future.

So the holiday weekend is nearly over.  I’ve reconnected with Sonja: dinner at her place with Oj and Nic (and found her a new lodger, Rekke); I’ve played Prince of Persia on my PS2 and not felt guilty about “wasting time”. I’ve watched Poirot and sat in the garden during the brief periods of sunshine.  It’s been good.  Although I’ve not ignored my projects entirely: I went into Red Desire ¦ Cold Murder and wrote up a ton of corrections; then went into Shadows of the Quantinex and enhanced the “Jasper” chapter… and Dog Eat Dog is knitting itself into the fabric of my brain, occupying more and more of my thinking process. 

[]

Precis for new novel, EDGE, by David J Rodger

Hi this is the precis for the new novel, due out in October. Comments welcome.

###

In the near future…

At the age of 29, Christian Carmichael is a leading inventor of new technology.  He accepts the invitation from an acquaintance, a man he barely knows, to take a snowboarding break at the Zen Dow resort.  At first it is just the elixir he needs, but events take a dark turn when people start to go missing.  

On the other side of the world is Halo Santana, an unscrupulous agent who preys on vulnerable minds with fresh ideas.  A random incident gives him a lead on a new technology that's vanished from a corporate R&D division, along with the scientist in charge. 

A malign and alien force is oozing into our reality, squirming across vast cosmic distances; radiating a malevolent and corruptive energy; sentient, older than humankind and growing strong again after centuries of absence.

Both men find their fate intrinsically entwined as events unfold with increasing tension, plunging them through heart-gripping scenes of terror.

###

God Seed gets exposure in National UK Newspaper

So, my publicist in New York has gotten himself involved in another angle… not directly associated with my books, but he’s never too shy to drag my brand into his escapades. This one got a full page spread in a national UK newspaper.

View the full page spread here

Free Sample of the new novel: EDGE by David J Rodger

I finished writing the novel, Edge, in August (2008), currently going through review and editorial. Here's a free sample (PDF) to give you a taster.

You can get the free sample here

18 / 74 Review Progress

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

19:50 GMT, Thursday 14th August, 2008.  Dark blue sky above my head, beyond the glass canopy; whisps of high altitude cirrus cloud.  Golden sunlight streaming in and reflecting off walls.

It's starting to feel cooler in the evenings: i'm wearing Starsky. Mad, middle of summer and feeling cold.

Good progress with reviewing Edge.  It could even be ready in time for my presence at the Sci-Fi lit / games festival I'm attending in October.  *fingers crossed*

My boss rang me tonight.  I was sitting outside the Ostrich pub, supping a cold beer in the surprise appearance of the sun (just bought new Hi-Tec hiking boots). Boss said, "David?"

"Yes," I replied.

"Has your game of Killer started yet?"

"Err, no.  Why?"

"Ah! Okay then.  No need to worry."

"Why?" I ask again, smiling, perplexed.

"It's just I saw your mate, Matthias lurking suspiciously by the main door."

I laughed out loud: Oh my God... my boss is ringing to warn me I may be about to be assassinated. Cool!

I thanked him, and assured him he'd know if the game had begun.

Which reminds me: I need to write up a new version of Killer and start a certain ball rolling. Only bananas and orange bombs this time. No replica weapons or real guns firing blanks as used to filter into every game of Killer back in the 80s and 90s... too much CCTV and trigger-happy cops in the 21st Century for Killer to ever slip back into that kind of mayhem. Thank God.

[]

6 / 74 - Review Progress

¦ dialling in from workstation ¦

08:36 GMT, Tuesday 12^th August, 2008.  Supping a coffee, aware of a giant pink erection in my peripheral vision.  I flew back from Newcastle yesterday morning and went straight from the airport to work; walked in and found a giant (6ft) pink balloon standing upright on my chair.  The guys, having a laugh. *smiles* 

Officially started the review process last night with my editor.  She blazed through 6 chapters in one sitting, out of 74.  It felt so strange, sitting down to start reading the book with her.  I was apprehensive.  Would the characters work?  Would the story flow?  Would the winter atmosphere come across as I wanted?  Would the snowboarding scenes work ok?

It turned into a great read.  If the book can maintain this energy then I’m onto a winner.  Already vast tranches of the story have slipped from my brain, so I’m reading stuff and genuinely being surprised and pleased.

I now have time on my hands.  It’s odd.  I want to open up the book in the early morning, or at lunch, and work on it… but there’s no work to be done.  I have to wait for the editorial process.

So I’ve gone into my laptop and found several months worth of photos I’ve not had a chance to process: I’ve not updated my private photo journal or written up the life stories around each picture.  Should keep me occupied for a week.  I’ve also got to write a précis for Edge – ugh – hate doing this; how do you describe a novel in a few lines…. Grrr.

I’m also continuing the review and play-testing of Shadows of the Quantinex: a session booked in for Wednesday night.

But, I have a sneaky feeling I’m going to start getting bored and restless soon, so I might start writing the next novel, Dog Eat Dog, before I finish everything with Edge. We’ll see how my brain copes with holding two worlds in tandem.

Okay, enough rambling.

Rainy moments of memory in Jesus Mound

¦ dialling in from Jesmond, Newcastle ¦

13:08 GMT, Saturday 9th August 2008.  I flew up here Thursday night. Landed in a mist of fine rain that didn't stop.  Grabbed the metro train from airport to Jesmond and then walked home, dropping into a takeaway on Acorn Road to fulfill a little feel-good tradition when walking home in the rain: bought chips & curry sauce left open.  The woman serving behind the counter looked at me a little strange, but I smiled and nodded my head, "Yes, open, please."

So I trudged through fine rain and dark wide streets, with trees packed densely together on either side... money money money, everywhere... whilst happily tucking into my spicy nosh with a wooden fork.  A merc glided past me at one point, slowing down as the driver gave me a long look, up and down, obviously thinking "you don't belong here." Mwhahaahaaaa. I kept walking, grinned around a mouthful and he sped on.

Mum's on great form.  And now that the book is finished, I'm spending quality time just relaxing...

...although I have started the review process on EDGE: couldn't help myself.

I'm starting to look ahead to October.  I need to begin preparations for the convention I'm attending.  I've never done one before so I'm aprehensive because I feel so fekking clueless.

Mum and I went out in the back garden last night, and spent some time with arched backs, reaching up into a plum tree. Came away with about 3KG's of ripe purple plums. Fantastic.

I went up to Acorn Road to grab a super-strong coffee from Kitschen Cafe, but it was packed out with people, windows steamed up because everyone is soaked through from the rain... so, I grabbed a pasty from the local bakers and strolled back home, happily munching down the hot food, as the wind and rain whipped around my face and hands.  I kept to the long back lanes, so typical of the streets up here, as much as possible... not sure why I like them so: isolation, a different perspective on ordinary streets?  

Oooh, the rain's finally paused; the sun is starting to burn through the low grey clouds... the dense green foliage of the trees is glowing in the light.

Time for another coffee... see if my clothes have dried out yet, then maybe grab a fast stroll down into the Dene.

[]

EDGE – 1st draft of the new novel finished. 143,000 words

¦ dialling in from workstation ¦

I was up at five this morning, hammering out the penultimate chapter… the real climax of the novel… loving it.

Then…

Rather an understated ending, sitting at my workstation during my lunchbreak, blazing through the final chapter. And then pause…read the last few lines…tap up, highlight, select, delete,,, and that’s it.

Then type THE END.

I’m very pleased.  I started this in March.  143,000 words and five months later….

More importantly, this concludes an idea I first had back in 2000.  I spent three years picking up the skills of snowboarding just so I could write about it.  I fleshed out the novel idea in 2003…and that’s where it was left whilst so many other projects took priority and dominated my time.

I’ve now planning a 6 weeks review and editorial period… so the thing should be published in October.

Next item on the horizon is writing Dog Eat Dog, the first novel in the Yellow Dawn series.  I mapped it out last year whilst in the South of France so it’s still fresh in my mind.  Looking forward to getting my teeth into that.

Self Publishing - The Revolution Continues

141,000 words

¦ dialling in from workstation ¦

08:15 GMT, Tuesday 5^th Aug, 2008.  Bleak, grey, rain and wind beyond my window… a view of Bath’s historic buildings outside.  Mushroom weather….I have to admit I love it.  So, Jo left the house before 8Am on Saturday morning and I settled into a solid groove of writing.  I was hoping I could finish the book over the weekend.  I came close.  I wrote 8,000 words in 2 days.  But by 11pm Sunday night, Jo was back, my brain was fried, and I decided to wave a white flag and not try to rush the ending.

I’m glad I took that choice.  I’ve working up the ending, savouring, stretching it, rendering it with much more detail and tension.  I’m in the midst of it right now.  About to enter a final scene of horror and violence… my adrenaline levels are cranked right up by the visuals flooding through my brain.  These are the moments I truly adore about writing….when you’re REALLY THERE in your mind, living the story, experiencing it.

Hopefully get it finished in the next couple of early morning / evening slots…

Then 6 weeks of review and editorial….ahh, chill out time.

Djr

Grey rainy squalls whipping laughing pensive face

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

08:15 GMT, Wednesday 30th July, 2008.  Thick rain clouds forming above my head, bright white light glaring through their nebulous forms, all visible through the canopy above my head. The sun has been replaced by rain.  At least the humidity is dropping. "Hanging in Midair" by Bomb The Bass is playing via random selection.

I woke up around 4 this morning.  I didn't get up to write, but did pad downstairs to grab a glass of water... darkness still pressing up against the windows outside.  In fact, I've not done any crazy early morning writing for a while now.  Possibly because I feel I'm making good enough progress during lunch breaks and after work. Climbing back into bed I snuggled into the warmth of Jo, and lay there, thinking about mum: being alone up there, dealing with her illness, whilst I'm so many hundreds of miles away; as is my sister.  A vague, uneasy feeling of guilt and sadness. I'm heading home again in a couple weeks, so a chance then to grab quality time with the woman who brought me into this world and became one of my best friends. 

I'm now on 128,000 words with the book and I've entered that "final phase" state of mind: i had the same with God Seed in 1996, and Dante's Fool in 1999... and Iron Man Project in 2005... a sort of all consuming mental distraction.  The thick greasy cables of the main plot lines, clenched in the cerebral fist of my mind...the manic Fool in the centre twisting and looping and tieing them together in the best possible...manner.

Somebody saw me sitting in the kitchen at work the other day, nursing a mug of tea; they said "You look pensive." I smiled, but how could I tell them I was choreographing a scene of betrayal within my imagination. I'm still aiming to finish the novel this weekend.

Couple days ago, Monday morning, I sat in the small black painted wooden chair, in the Room With A View, supping a mug of tea and gazing out across the East edge of Bristol and the lush green hills beyond... when I saw an immense light grey plume of smoke, rising up from miles away.  It wasn't a small trail in the sky...this thing looked like a volcano had errupted. Dense, broad, bulging with a thousand curves, expanding upwards and outwards.  I thought: something bad has happened.  Turns out it was the death flag of the Grand Pier at Weston Supermare...going up in smoke.  100 years of history burned down to carbon.

"Inertia Creeps" by Massive Attack is playing now.  Time to get dressed and ready for the drive through winding country hill roads, to my place of work. *smiles*  Is it wrong to enjoy your commute?  Is it wrong to look forward to going into work?  Long may these joyful feelings last.

[]

Sunny Sunday

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

13:47 GMT, Sunday 28th July 2008. Wow. The glorious sunshine continues to pour across the land; like the spilling of a giant's honey pot.  It finally feels like Summer has arrived.  Several blissful lunchtimes and evenings out in the sun last week too. 

"Lorrentine" by Clan of Xymox is playing through choice.

I've not done any writing this weekend. I'm paused on 126,000 words.  Close to finishing but don't want to rush.  Yesterday saw me switch into game mode, play-testing Shadows of the Quantinex.  Guys arrived at noon, but we wrapped up relatively early, just past six, so I was able to enjoy the summery evening; popped in to see Simon and Vicky; and then headed over to some friends of Hagen's who were throwing yet another BBQ.  Great bunch of people, lots of laughter and smiles, good food, a huge bottle of Leffe and then some deadly cocktails. Thankfully I left my car at home and Jo was happy to come pick me up.

Strange dreams last night, about somebody at work abusing my openess and good nature, laughing at me, at my expense???? They've left an odd lingering mood on my mind that is slightly spoiling the sunny vibes  :o((((

I've been out in the garden with Jo most of the day. Up here in the SKy BUnker to write up the notes from the play test, and fix a small gap in the published beta version...

I'm finished now, so am resisting the urge to switch back into Edge. The sun and garden beckons.

Bit of a social week planned ahead, so after Monday I won't see Jo again until the following Monday. Crikey!  So I'm figuring next weekend will see me locked away, getting hairy, and slighty crazy and I burn the daylight to finish the book.  We'll see.

My sister gets her exam results for her masters next week: hopefully a reason for some celebrating.

[]

122,000 words

¦ dialling in from workstation ¦

13:01 GMT, Monday 21st July, 2008. Bright sunny day outside.  Breezey, easy, happy mind state inside.  I did about 4,000 words this weekend: quite a relaxed pace, although I did turn up at Hagen's place Sunday afternoon barely able to string a verbal sentence together.  I sat in his garden for a couple hours, nursing a can of beer, staring up at the big fluffy white clouds gliding across the blue sky... slipping instinctively into thoughts about the book. Hagen was cool with it though.

I can see the end of this novel clearly in my field of vision, but I refuse to rush.  Another week, or 10 days, and I should be done. 

Friday night saw Jo, Sonja and I meshing with new people: Sophie B (from work) and her friend Lisa. It was a great night: easy conversations covering diverse subjects. Lisa has had 10 books published through traditional publishers, but wanted to meet me to discuss LULU and the print on demand revolution. In fact, meeting Lisa has revealed horror stories from the world of tradional publishing that has made me doubly confident in the decision I took in going the LULU route.  The LULU model is the future of book publisher for readers who don't want material that's been dumbed-down for the lowest common denominator of intelligence, and for authors who don't want to have thier creative spirits dilluted, and who want to make a decent profit for their work.

A new social fabric is knitting together around work people: Ben C, Dan R, Lyndsey M, and Jo SKel, although I'm gutted the latter two are leaving the company soon: very cool people, a pleasure to know and share time with.

Mum continues with her chemotherapy, and maintains a majority of days in high-spirits.  So far, so good.  My sparkly friend Jess, in Toronto, used thoughts about my mum's situation to push her through the pain of the final 3 Km's of a 24 KM run this weekend... but in reciprocal fashion, Jess passed on her running team's motto to my mum, which she found deeply inspirational and positive.

[]

115,000 words

¦ dialling in from SKy Bunker ¦

08:20 GMT.  Wednesday 17th July, 2008.  Kneeling on my ergonomic stool with a sneer stretching the upper corner of my thin lips.  Unwashed hair sticking out in random tufts, unshaven, dark circles beneath my hooded eyes.  I'm listening to Trentemoller by choice.  "Rykketid" was playing, just switched to "Prana".  Perfects sounds for the blood smeared horror show I'm having to render within my imagination at the moment. A scene near the end of the novel: not a pleasent state of mind to dip into.  But hey, just wait, if you buy this book you'll get to enjoy the chill fingers of dread creep up the back of your neck and sink through the flesh, muscle and bone of your skull to squirm around the fatty-white tissue of your brain.  

This is the point where corporate espionage really drops away and the mammoth structure of ancient Evil crashes up through the crust of the story, like a geological event.

Hmm, I'm rambling.

I managed to get some sleep last night.  Thank God.  The past few days, I think I've been behaving slightly...peculiar.  The intensity of the book.  The unrelenting, yet delicous pressure of work.

Tonight I've got the guys coming round to continue play-testing Shadows of the Quaninex (Yellow Dawn). It'll either be a wonderful mental gear-shift, or it'll drain me and plunge me into a foul mood as I struggle to recapture this present state.

It'll be a good thing when this book ends.

[]

113,000 words - butchered bodies and that Trentemoller remix. Hooo-ya!

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

20:12 GMT, Sunday 13th July.  Kneeling on my ergonomic stool with manic smirk carving my thin lips.  My teeth are clenched tight, jaw muscles working beneath the stubble peppered flesh.  What a weekend.  9,000 words as I wrap up tonight.  I switched into the mind of the other main character this morning; so switched music choice to match... moved from Solar Fields and Entheogenic onto the dark brooding sounds of Trentmoller.  Reaching a gruesome section of the story tonight, the track list lined itself up in perfect fekking order: "snowflake"...then "Blood in the streets" and then "Moan"....

It couldn't have been better.

I just hope I can sleep.

I've been guzzling coffee from the metal octagon all day.

Time to clean up, soak in the bath, play some Trentemoller real loud, and work off this crazy eyed look from my face.

[]

108,000 words

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

17:00 GMT, Saturday 12th July.  Kneeling on my ergonomic stool, squinting and cursing the dazzling sunlight streaming in through the canopy above my head. Note to self: put up some blinds at some point.  At least the sun is showing it's face for once; I'm a big fan of rain but the past few days have been ridiculous. What a washout.

I'm just wrapping up after a solid day of writing. 4,000 words today.

I've had enough now.  Plus I'm switching back from one main characer into the mind-state of another...I'd prefer to do that with a fresh brain tomorrow.

Lots of big reveals within the story at the moment: i'm enjoying that.  Tying off loose ends.  Bringing the back-story up out into the light.  Giving the reader a character POV of the truth coming into focus.

I can finally see the end in sight.  Maybe another 16,000 words?  Then comes the review and fixing mistakes. 

Work has been nuts this week.  I've gone straight to the pub at the end of every day just to numb the adrenaline.  Hopefully not a trend for the future.  Everything is still on target deadline wise, however, so all good there.

I dreamt about my dad last night.  Very odd dream.  He was still alive, although was in and out of hospital treatment...coming around a corner into the room, I discovered he'd had both legs amputated at the knee. He was walking around like a dwarf.  He seemed fine about it and gave me a massive hug (after I'd dropped down onto my knees to reach his level).  Very surreal and yet very lovely...I really felt like I saw my Dad last night. :o) 

Djr

103,000 words

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

07:49 GMT, Wednesday 10th July. Kneeling on my ergonomic stool below a rain streaked canopy...the white haze drifting out to the nearby hills surrounding Bristol.  I'm wrapped in Starsky and wearing my thick Norweigan wool socks. It ain't too warm at the moment, but not cold enough to make me switch on Life Support.  "Living an Illusion" by Trevor Jones is playing via random on my laptop. 

EDGE is now at 103,000 words.  Yesterday morning was pretty special.  Past few weeks all the scenes have been tense and / or violent.  Yesterday morning I started a chapter where one of the main characters has a moment of self-evolvement...using the battles they've been through to actually feel stronger.  My mind was free-styling, between way-points in the plot...and I figured, let's have this person do a mad-for-it snow board run.  But how to write such a thing?  Well, I got into work just after 7.30, sat down and got into the vibe. By 9 AM I'd been down a mountain on a snowboard with all the adrenaline and thrills. Wow. I felt amazing.  Like I'd actually been there. 

I clicked into work mode, which continues to be intense... I had to bring in my camera guy and presenter to finish off some VO pick-ups and tweak the final edits of commercials.  Meanwhile, design guy is making major changes to the microsite and my developer is changing his slicing/dicing and coding accordingly. Go Live is for Friday, so fingers crossed we're steering in towards delivering on deadline. This, along with the  30 other projects on our stack. Aiiie-caramba!

I've been meeting a lot of new people recently. Not just "new" people, but really interesting, articulate and fun people.  I sense a potential new social network forming, mapping itself across Bath and Bristol.  I'm liking it. 

Monday night was the 2nd anniversary of Oj and I moving into Cosey Castle. I didn't realise until Oj told me.  I was stunned. Two years.  Such a small number.  Such a seemingly trivial amount of time, and yet...so many thing have occured in that period. My God. July 2006... I'd been out of the Agency for a year... I'd been head-hunted by big corp and done 5 months consultancy...and then left the Happy Flat (after 11 years), and found myself in this strange place... I remember I was deeply torn between staying in Bristol or moving back to Newcastle.  My dad was dying.  I felt guilty about not being around to provide support.  Things turned a little dark end of 2006.  But then Dad died and from his passing came incredible light.  Beautiful things happened.  2007 was a creative engine.  The Cosy Castle phased into my reality with true blessings.  2007 was when I nailed three of my novels and got them published.  Wrote Yellow Dawn and got it published.  And then the Company found me... and in a way, saved me at the point I was about to fall.  And so here I am... *beams a smile*

[]
 

I dreamt of the Truth behind the Universe, Man's place in it and God.

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

08:01 GMT, Sunday 6th July 2008.

This life is an artificial construct designed to "road test" various designs of life.
Flaws are exposed.
The best design will ultimately be exposed.
At the "end of time"... the end of this construct's running period...
The people of good design will be reincarnated.
Not actually those people, because right now, we're all artificial... we're just simulations.
God will step into the chosen body.

Hmm, there you go. A bit freaky.  Not surprising when you consider I spent my entire day yesterday, writing. I popped outside in the mid-afternoon to grab some supplies and fount it a distinctly surreal experience.  My brain is in some point in the future, in a snowboarding resort in New Zealand... but my body is walking through the east edges of Bristol.

Reality slip.

I banged out 3,000 words yesterday. I'm pleased.

The sky is lead grey through the canopy above me, the view smudged by trails of rainwater sluicing down the glass pane.  I love it.

[]

94,000 - filming frolics - new Beta version of Shadows of Quantinex

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

08:01 GMT Wednesday 2^nd July 2008. Wow. Still riding the adrenaline wave.  Monday night finished the rewrite of the current playtest zone of Shadows of Quantinex (now onto Beta version 3). Tuesday morning I was able to switch back to writing EDGE, finished off a fight / action scene, writing with a martial art character…hard work but I’m pleased with the result. Got into work just after 9 to find, to my surprise, the film crew sitting there and one of the photographer guys… “What are you still doing here?” I asked, very puzzled; they were supposed to be in a taxi on their way to the first shoot location in Bristol. Today was the culmination of weeks of intense planning.

Turns out the presenter’s father died that morning: she wasn’t coming in.

Nobody was thinking up a back-up. Shit.

The director was currently on a train from London, inbound, heading for Bristol.

The client (major electronics corporation) was expecting results.

Not doing the shoot today, was not an option. Film crew got into taxi. I went looking for a presenter. Several people got involved. Phone calls made.  Magazine editors harassed.  Publishers tap-tap-tapping.  I get a girl who looks great, talks great, has confidence in front of a camera.  Grab a taxi. High-speed drive through countryside back to Bristol.  Phone calls with film crew who are on-location now, but the filming permit for that place expires in an hour. We have three more locations to hit in the same day.  But… slow down… breathe a little bit deeper… we get there. And we get some serendipity on our side. Things happen for us on camera.  It’s good good good.  Wrap-up at 7.  Jump on a train back to Bath.  Hook up with Ben, pick up my car, blast back to Bristol… go see WANTED…a film I was going to avoid because the trailers made it look shit, but an excellent movie. Late night beers. Crash. Zzzzz blisto.

This morning I’ve been working on Edge, and have uploaded the new Beta version (3) of Shadows of the Quantinex.

Time to grab another mug of tea: wake up Ben who’s in the spare room and then do the journey to work.

Djr

Return to Shadows...

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

08:23 GMT, Monday 30^th June 2008.  Thank the Lord I was able to reach a comfortable / logical point to pause with EDGE on Friday.  Reason: a session of Yellow Dawn on Saturday. Noon til late. Further play testing of the mammoth Shadows of the Quantinex campaign I finished writing earlier this year.  The characters have just completed New Zealand, including the [TMPRL VLLY] which has led to a lot of feedback and scope for improvement.  After the game session finished on Saturday night, I went upstairs to grab a 15 minutes snooze and recharge my brain a bit… woke up 8AM the next bloody morning.  Must have needed the sleep big time.  Spent Sunday fighting spores of Satan’s bush in the garden (I have the cuts on my arms to prove it) and rewriting large chunks of this section of Shadows of the Quantinex.  Some really great new stuff and a much tighter focus on giving the characters a chance to understand what is happening in the [TMPRL VLLY].  This kind of change requires me to release an updated Beta version.  I should be able to finish the changes tonight, and get the new version (Beta 3) to the publisher tomorrow.

As usual, the majority of changes are documented in the errata section:

http://davidjrodger.com/yog/forums/48/ShowForum.aspx

However, due to the risk of SPOILERS I’ve limited the amount of detail to simple suggestions for GM’s running the Shadows of Quantinex campaign.

I’m praying this significant mental return to Shadows of the Quantinex will not wreck my recent high-speed train of thought and creative output for EDGE. Tuesday night I want to be drop back in where I left off Friday with renewed gusto. Fingers and toes crossed.

Djr

92,000 words

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

20:51 GMT, 27th June 2008.  Man alive, I'm flying through this part of the book. Writing free style with just a few bullet points acting as way points. Kneeling on my ergonomic stool... a delicious greeny-grey light filtering in through the canopy above my head...it's raining. Yay! My absolute favourite, particularly with this kind of moody light. I'm about to get into another scene of violence... after having spent a couple of days writing internal thoughts and fast dialogue, I'm going to press PAUSE for now, and come to the hard action stuff with a fresh brain tomorrow morning.

"Believe It Or Not", by Nickelback is playing on random selection.

Work is utterly terrifying and exhilerating at the moment. I'm covering Stu's projects whilst he's away all week, on top of my own schedule.  Currently fighting to get permission from council and private persons for some more filming in Bristol, freelance crew, director and presenter all on stand-by... client waiting with baited breath as deadlines loom close. Meanwhile, managing the translation of B@tm@an commercial stuff into 12 different languages and managing a staggered launch, following the sun as the film goes out around the world... just a selection of things keeping my adrenal glands firing all day today.  All good stuff. Great people.  Great company.

Last night I met up with a new player for Yellow Dawn. A guy called Dave. Now dubbed Alt.Dave by the group in response to the fact there are now two Daves' present.  Looking forward to bringing him in, although with Dom currently over from Dubai for the summer, I'm suspecting there won't be "any room at the Inn" until late summer / early Autumn.

[]

89,000 words

¦ dialling in from workstation ¦

13:05 GMT, Tuesday 24^th June, 2008.  Sun is shining but I’m blasting through the final stages of chapter 49. I’m now 89,000 words in. The horror back story continue to bubble up to the surface. I’m having to juggle this alongside the corporate espionage angle. Quite a challenge but I’m confident the result will work. I’m really feeling the characters. Living the story through them. Great experience.

I flew back from Newcastle yesterday morning. Saw my boss briefly as he was rushing out the door to start his journey to North Africa…. I was curious about the numerous wet patches all over his travel fatigues until he explained he’d been carpet bombed by a seagull. I tried not to laugh.

Newcastle was amazing. My mum’s 65^th birthday. A surprise party. Half of Norway sneaking up to her front door.  She almost collapsed, sobbing with emotion and laughing in delight. My sister blew the decade away with her cooking and baking skills. I remained shocked and awed by her effort and talent. Food to die for.  Also fantastic to see my Norwegian family again, and for Oj to meet them too.

Mum’s spirits are buoyant, despite her long locks of golden hair falling out with the chemo. I thought I would be freaked out, but she carried it off well, either wearing a headscarf or using an incredible wig that actually made her look 20 years younger. Go figure. Having cancer has been great for her looks.

I’m meeting up with a potential new player (for Yellow Dawn) tomorrow. Although I may have to delay phasing him in until after the summer… Dom is back over from Middle-East and so takes an honorary seat at the RPG table.  The table is regularly at capacity so room for players is limited.

I’ll be starting chapter 50 tonight.

[]

Good -Hard Knocks- for Shadows of the Quantinex (beta)

¦ dialling in from workstation ¦

08:23 GMT, Thursday 19^th June, 2008.  Sitting at my desk at work. The big plant is looking at me. Having recently watched The Happening, I’m considering talking to it and feeding it some water.

Currently on 86,000 words with Edge. I’ve been making fantastic progress since the weekend. I’m feeling very connected to the plot and in-tune with the characters, so the words are flowing from my fingers. Whether or not they’re good words is yet to be decided! *smiles*

I got to write a decent horror scene on Monday. The back story of Edge, surrounding the Zen Dow resort and the mountain is starting to emerge through the upper layers of corporate espionage and personal relationship issues. Very enjoyable. I was actually sweating with adrenaline after I finished the chapter.

Last night I had to switch off my novel-writing brain and re-engage with the role playing game Yellow Dawn. The play-testers came round to my house, en-masse, and continued with Shadows of the Quantinex. This is the beta version, and once we finished the session, around 10pm, I spent another couple of hours (and half a bottle of WolfBlass ) discussing areas of improvement for the section of the scenario they’re just about to complete.  It’s wonderful when these kinds of intense, detailed, honest feedback sessions occur: I feel privileged to have access to the content of five additional brains in figuring out the best way to do things.

If you’ve bought the Beta version of Shadows of the Quantinex, then I recommend you take a look at the Errata section, where I’ve written up the suggested changes.

http://davidjrodger.com/yog/forums/48/ShowForum.aspx

Facebook. I’ve updated my page...

http://www.facebook.com/pages/David-J-Rodger/10090348898

...with the hope that it’s more commercially attractive. I want to attract more “fans” and ideally more interest in my books. I’m going to do the dreaded “ask my friends to tell their friends” and I'm also creating some online advertising for the page too. See how it goes.

I’m off to Newcastle tonight. A surprise visit for my mum’s birthday. She’s a 1/3^rd through her chemo treatment, and she has no idea that half of Norway are descending on her home this weekend to join in the surprise and celebration. Fun city. I'll post photos up on the secret bit later in the month.

[]

83,000 words

¦ dialling from Sky Bunker ¦

20:09 GMT, Sunday 16th June 2008. A huge mound of white fluffiness is drifting incredibly slowly above my head, edging away a cobalt blue sky. Elephant Machine, by "Younger Brother" is playing by choice on my laptop. Actually these guys are my new favourite band: the album is "The Last Days of Gravity" and it makes incredibly cool writing music.

Ah, the track just moved into Your Friends Are Scary.

Wonderful.

There's a lot of Jose Padilla (Navigator album) and Tangerine Dream, particularly the track used in Risky BUsiness, on the train, you know the one ;o)

Kelvin, from Spain, arrived with us on Wednesday night. So the pace of my writing slowed to accomodate socialising with the man every night. Not that I'm complaining. He is delightful company.  A lot of Pimms and lemonade. A lot of Star Wars Battlefront II, on PS2.  A BBQ in the backgarden. A visit from SOnja and NIc.  Jo and Kelvin seeing where I work, meeting the gang there... eating out at Yen Sushi.  It's been a really good time. Of course, no visit from Kelvin is complete without some kind of disaster. Last time he came he more or less flooded the bathroom. This time, he and I were standing in the kitchen making breakfast. He wrestled with a can of plum tomatoes, fighting with the opener to get the lid off. I stood nearby, watching, as Kelvin used the opener as a lever and forced down with all the strength of his arm to wrench the thing open... there was a lot of red tomato juice floating on the top of the lid, seeping up through the parts that had been opened... I started to get a bad feeling. A moment later Kelvin remarked, "Ha, I think I'm wearing the wrong colour to be doing this." Which was true... he was wearing a snow white T'shirt, and brand new trousers. The next instant there was a metallic - prang - sound, and he and I jumped as we were caught in a spray of red. It was all over his top, over his face, over my face and my top, all over the kitchen cupboards, all over the sink, all over the window across the kitchen. Ahem!

I dropped Kelvin off at the airport at lunchtime, spent some time in town, sitting on a bench outdoors, making notes for Edge, then headed home and have been blissfully locked in my DaVinci routine all afternoon and evening. 45 minutes writing. 15 minute break, or snooze.

[]

80,000 words

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

03:32 GMT, Wednesday, 11th June 2008. Purple darkness through the canopy above my head. Dawn's not far away, so this is a rare moment to enjoy a dark morning - during Summer. My favourite.

Born of a Broken Man, by RAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE is playing via random selection.

After a month of banging my head against a wall, I'm back into the main vein with Edge: now reached 80,000 words. Very productive few days.  Mainly centered around a major character who is involved with things happening away from the snowboarding resort.  I went ahead of the current plot point, writing finished chapters for this character whilst the rest of the book sits further back in the timeline. Which has meant a little bit of re-entry turbulence over the weekend as I had to drop back to where I left off with the other major character.

I'm now having to take particular care as this is the point where the life paths of these two, seperate charatcers, collides.  How does one see the other, and visa versa?  Keeping in mind how the reader may also be percieving them.

Other news: Kelvin is heading over from Spain for a few days. He should be here with us in Cosy Castle by tonight. Looking forward to that.

My man in New York has got himself into the papers in the UK. By launching "Fully Booked", a series of story- telling nights being held in UK, Canada and America, with cash raised on each night going to community groups aiming to improve adult literacy. He's already hosted a successful night in Brooklyn, US, raising hundreds of dollars for New York’s Literacy Assistance Centre. Good for people. Good for me, because the paper featured a photograph of him holding a copy of God Seed. Big smiles from me there, thanks Mr FH.

Quite bizarre: I've just realised whilst writing these comments about God Seed that the track "Sudafeln", by BEAUMONT HANNANT, has been playing: one of the definitive tracks I listened to during the 1996 writing of God Seed. Ahh sweet synchronicity.

Right enough waffle here: time to get down to some writing.

DJr

Progress: 74,000 words

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

05:36 GMT, Thursday 6th JUne, 2008. Bright grey-white light filling the canopy above my head, although if I stand up to look through I realise the grey-white is just dense cloud cover...but the landscape below is painted in a divine early morning sunlight, a honey-amber light, dripping off the green of the trees stretching away in all directions. Blue Moon Station, by SOLAR FIELDS, is playing by choice on the laptop.

I've just finished the bastard chapter(s). I made my breakthrough yesterday morning, before work. Last night I came home and was supposed to have rushed out again to attend the opening of a friend's art exhib, but I knew I was on a roll with my writing so delayed leaving until I had spent enough time up here in the Sky Bunker to be satisfied with my renewed flowing progress.

What a fantastic feeling.

The art exhib was pleasant, although populated on the whole by the kind of people I like to avoid. I got to spend some time chatting with Ant in a moment between all of the people crowding for his attention; he is such a lovely bloke.  I also met a woman called Mo, who was also waiting to talk with Ant and struck up a fast and friendly rapport; a photographer and a networker... and somebody with a story hidden behind snippets of background?  We exchanged details.

Right, time to grab some sleep before work.

Laters.

Djr

Edge, I've got a solution, but do I have the talent to execute it? Grrrr

¦ dialling in from workstation ¦

13:23 GMT, Monday 2^nd June 2008.  Feels like forever since I posted here. I’m sitting at work, fat on battered jumbo cod and mushy peas. Very nice too. Listening to Air Song, from Leaving Home album by Solar Fields. Blissful. I’m about to wade into the frustrating treacle of Edge. I came back from Cyprus with several pages of gold dust; hand written notes, mapping out the solutions for the plot… ah yes, I have the solutions mapped out but I now seem (or feel as if) to have forgotten how to write. I am criticising sentences as I write them. I am not moving forward. I am stuck in a single stupid chapter. How many times can I rewrite the same few lines? Arrrrrrrrrrghhhhh!!!! Anyway, enough with pathetic creative moaning; there is a solution, just need to keep pushing on….

My mum started her Chemo week before last. Jo and I travelled up to Newcastle to be with her for the days following the treatment, not sure how ill she would become. Tough old boot, my mum. She’ s come through the first session smiling. Another 5 sessions to go, every 3 weeks.  Her positive attitude, smiles and her laughter, have prevented me going through the same agony of guilt ---- being in Bristol when I feel like I should be in Newcastle – as I went through with my dad’s illness and demise.

I've been looking for a suitable person to photograph, to include in the redesign of the cover for Dante's Fool. Several months have gone by and nothing. Nada. Zippo. Then I turned round at my desk the other day and saw a man that was perfect: DS Louis Cloud. It was my character. I asked him if he'd be interested in modelling for it. He said yes. So, photos are taken, designs are underway. I'm looking forward to seeing the new jacket.

I have a loose plan to head back to US in later summer / autumn to spend a few days in a creative brainstorm / isolation bubble of a remote country house in upstate NY. Fingers crossed it comes together; ideally I would somehow like to combine this with a trip to Toronto and catch up with people there.

Right, enough of this waffle. Time to grab a coffee and get down to Edge.

Djr

My New Favourite Band - Inner Party System

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

I discovered these boys and girls whilst crashed-out on a brown leather sofa in the heat of a Cypriot summer, my brain blasted by too much of the local grape-mash... but seeing this lot strobe the inner cells of my eye had the effect of jabbing me out of my comfortable position, to shuffle across to the table, next to the laptop, rummaging for a pen and some paper to scribble down the words that would let me find them again once I'd returned to a place with usable internet.

They're a fusion of cold cyberpunk cynicism, Front Line Assembly meets Hybrid with a strong dose of Pendulum. Utterly lovely. The kind of people I'd like to meet.

This is the track / video that blew me away:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9WolkQvHNps

Check out their music here:
http://www.innerpartysystem.com/

Forever time on foreign shore and fixing my book

¦ dialling in from private villa on remote mountains of Cyprus ¦

09:15 Hrs, Thursday 15th May 2008.  I'm at a table of pale wood, long enough to seat 10 people and fits easily within the cavernous space of the main living area.

Laptop is in front of me, Spitting Games by Snow Patrol playing on random.

A green glazed mug empty of tea, exposing white ceramic interior. Numerous sheets of paper scattered around me in an arc, all of them covered in nearly illegible scrawls...the rescue solution for the new novel, EDGE. 

To my left are a collection of deep and comfortable sofas, a flat screen TV, every window covered by a closed venetian blind. In front of me, and to my right are sliding French doors, volumous curtains of cream muslin pulled open to reveal the view beyond. To my right is a bright expanse of a large swimming pool, beyond that, nothing but a horizon of yellow grass...stiff and brittle from the heat of the sun, and a scattering of stunted green trees. This is the landscape of the high hill the villa is perched upon.  Ahead of me though, above the rim of my laptop screen, through the glass of the French doors, bordered by the cream muslin, is a breathtaking view of rural beauty... yellow, yellow and more yellow... with green lines formed by trees or hedgerows, stretching away for two or three miles to the vast expanse of the sea... right now it's lost in a heat haze, a white mist barely seperating the sea from the white intensity of the sky... the sun is hammering down, baking the air and land and everything on it.

I've been up since seven'ish, the first time i've been out of bed before 9 AM since getting to Cyprus last Saturday night. And the first time I've sat down to spend some serious time on the computer. Everything up to now has been paper notes...sitting outside on a sun-lounger...perched on the tiled balcony overlooking...the world.

There was a thunderstorm last night. Eye-burning flashes of light from way up in the clouds, all around for miles... a few vivid forks streaking down near the villa, deep rumbles and booms, but nowhere near as jaw-dropping as the massive electrical storm of South France 2006.

Time has ceased to have any meaning. The days have blurred into a simple continuum marked only by day and by night. During the day we live outside. During the night we live inside.  We've barely spoken a word to anybody. There is nobody. I've shaken hands and exchanged broken English with a goat-herder, blackened and wrinkled by years in the sun, over the low chain link fence marking the boundary of the property...

There's a slight irony in writing a novel set within the deep freeze of a New Zealand winter, whilst sitting here in the heat of a south Med summer.

Over & over

Djr

I've Broken my Book!

¦ dialling in from workstation ¦

13:41 GMT, Wednesday 7^th May 2008. *coughing, spluttering, nose oozing septic green slime* You’ve got to admire the predictable nature of man-flu. A well designed piece of viral engineering: for what purpose though, I have no idea. I flew back from Newcastle yesterday morning.  A good weekend despite mum’s condition, despite my man-flu.  Sitting at the desk in my old bedroom yesterday morning, watching the sun rise over the dense canopy of the forest behind the house, waiting for the taxi that was going to take me to the airport, I was acutely aware that I was entering a new and possibly final phase…with mum, with this house, and all the memories and feelings surrounding them.  I can’t believe I’m here again, so soon after everything that happened with Dad.

Djr

Carcinogen Continued...

¦ dialing in from Jesus Mound ¦

19:24 GMT, Sunday 4th May 2008. Sitting at the barely used dinning table, next to the bay window at the front of the house. Large open plan lounge spreads away to my right. Through two archways I can see Jo in the new extension, reclined in a rocking chair, and I can see mum chopping up vegetables in the kitchen. A sort of diffuse light is seeping in through the abundance of windows, tinged green by the dense canopy of the trees and foliage surrounding the house. I've not done any writing today. I'm on pause, on the first page of chapter 40... 65,000 words in. I've picked up my sister's lurgy. Nostrils and sinuses feel like they're leaking acid, nasty fluorescent green stuff keeps spitting out when I blow my nose; my head is pounding; I'm tired yet restless. Man flu.

Worse things to consider. Mum had results of further tests on Wednesday. Bad news. The doctor stopped the endoscopies into her lungs because he found another tumor on the way...in her gullet. The big question now is: is it a separate primary tumor (best result) or is it indicative that the first tumor has spread (worst result).

My sister and I have to sit down tomorrow and thrash out what we want from the house.  Weird times.

Djr

Progress: 61,000 words

¦ dialling in from the Sky Bunker ¦

03:35 GMT, Tuesday 29th April. Kneeling on my ergonomic stool, darkness pressing down against the glass of the canopy above my head, deep red glow from the lava lamp. Gary Numan - HAUNTED - is playing through the big speakers mounted either corner of my desk, via the laptop.

I'm back into the vein. After struggling with Edge last week - I took a much slower pace over the weekend - and now I feel like I'm back into a positive, broad stride. Currently ploughing into chapter 38, and starting to really chew on the thriller fibres of the main plot.  It's been difficult up to now because I want to create a sense of the existence of a large group of snowboarders - a group of 7 friends - that creates a social backdrop for one of the main characters...however, making these non-essential characters seem interesting, keeping them alive without drowning the reader in lots of character descriptions...that is a challenge.

Also this weekend: Matthias, my soul-brother tied the knot with his long-term girlfriend. An excellent ceremony. Not a single bloody hymn. Just lots of heartfelt and meaningful vows... although Jo and I were sitting at the back of the setting, next to a pool full of carp...and a surging torrent of minature waterfalls... so we sat watching Matthias and Tanya smiling, gazing at each other with true love and deep respect, their mouths openening and closing as they made personal vows, but I couldn't hear a word of it... I watched thier mouths opening and closing and listened to the gurgle of water from the pool beside me, then I glanced into the pool and saw two carp hovering just below the surface, facing each other at 45 degree angle... both their mouths were opening and closing... I glanced back at Matt and Tanya...and had a surreal almost comic moment.

I stayed up last night to watch a TV documentary by Chris Terril, about Chris being the oldest man to participate in the Royal Marines Green Beret challenge. It was nice to see the old bugger again - and striking how much he seems to have aged in the 8 years since I last saw him in London. I had to smile at the use of the hamster-cam to film part of the ordeal from his POV. I recall that scenario vividly. I was also pleased to see him complete the one week challenge. So well done, Chris.

Right, just sank the last of my first mug of tea of the day. Time to get down to chapter 38.

Djr

Absence of thought. Who said writing was easy.

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

08:23 GMT, Friday 25^th April. Barely awake. Finding it hard to get out of bed past few mornings. Not sure if it’s the weather…temperature and humidity rising…or the fact I’m starting to struggle with the book. I’m into chapter 36 (59,000 words in) and I feel like I’m wading through jelly. Last night I felt as though I had forgotten how to write and I climbed into the bath with a novel written by one of my favourite authors, intending to remind myself what it is I should be doing. I gave up after 5 minutes; his stuff was no different to mine and I realised I hadn’t forgotten or lost anything.  I’m just tired.

Somebody bought me a book on a whim yesterday, “What Mad Universe” by Fredric Brown. It’s got a godawful trashy cover and the strapline reads: “The SF classic of a man trapped in a hilarious alternate reality”. I’m looking forward to reading it, and I’m flattered somebody took time out to go get it.

Yesterday also witnessed a conversation between myself and a film-producer. He’s read my short script SALO IV and is keen to punt it out to his contacts; so we’ll see what (if anything) comes back. All positive stuff though eh?

Djr

Welcome to the White Room

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

01:05 GMT, Wednesday 23rd April. So here I am again. Back in the saddle at silly-o'clock. My brain snapped awake awhile ago and I lay in the darkness and silence of the bedroom thinking: christ, what time is it? My brain is churning ideas so I sat up, swung my legs over the side of the bed, pushed myself up onto my barefeet and padded out of the bedroom, downstairs, through the dinning room into the kitchen...brewed a mug of tea whilst balancing on tip-toes because the tiled floor is so fekking cold, then climbed all the way up here. LIfe support is on. Lava lamp is on. I'm set. I think I'm in for the long haul this morning. So I'll be doing the DaVinci thing every 30 minutes to keep fresh. 

Currently 56,000 words into Edge. I've hit that scary zone where you're so far into the book that you know you can't give up, and yet you've got sooooo fekking far left to go you just feel crushed by the idea of it. So I'm doing like my ex-army mate told me to do on my last tab in the Scottish highlands... "just keep your eyes on your feet and keep walking... trick your mind by counting to a 100...just another 100 and you'll stop for rest you tell yourself, but you reset to zero every time you get close to the final figure." 

I saw George Clooney's "Leatherheads" last night. A very sweet film. Didn't take itself too seriously. Well made. Very well acted. Worth the price of the ticket.

I saw "In Bruges" on Sunday night. An even better film. Almost 10/10 I'd say.

Then at lunchtime today, a random facebook moment with a cool new personality I've encountered, brought back an ancient memory... the KLF and their film "White Room". This is in the days before public internet.  Back then I'd desperately wanted to see the thing...but for various reasons never managed to get hold of a copy. So I took a look on You Tube. And Hey Presto. As of last year some utter dude had posted-up the darn thing. I spent my lunchbreak nailed to my seat, headphones on, jaw-droppingly spellbound by a journey back into the late '80s and the emerging dance scene, and renegade cyberpunk attitude of Drummond and Cauty.  It was fantastic.  I spent the rest of the afternoon with a surreal temporal overlap with the 19-20 year old me.

Right...01:25...time to post this up and then crack on with Edge. Bloody thing. ;o)

Djr

Sample of new novel Edge by David J Rodger

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

08:32 GMT, Saturday 19th April 2008. Kneeling on my ergonomic stool with grey light filtering in through the canopy above my head. Life support is on...humming away to my right blowing warm air on my bare legs. I'm wrapped in Starsky. Soft red glow from the lava lamp on the desk. Laptop currently playing some old school Enigma on random selection. It's a perfect day for Game. The lads are due round at noon today to pick up the 3rd session playing Shadows of the Quantinex (within world of YELLOW DAWN). I managed to get a lie-in this morning; I've been up for an hour now, tweaking the front cover of Edge, and creating this free sample of Edge. It's the first 5 chapters and is entirely unproofed, so I'm making no apologies for typos etc.

I'm currently onto chapter 34 (53,000 words in), hoping to get that finished this morning, then chill out before the lads come round.

DJR REMOVED LINK (12th Aug 2008) - No longer valid

Edge - Cover Art Preview

Progress: 47,000 words

¦ dialling in from SKy Bunker ¦

21:44 GMT, Friday 11th April 2008. Breaking my golden rule not to work on the computer after 9Pm but fek it, I've been on a roll. JUst finished Chapter 29. I'm 47,000 words in. Not bad for three and a half weeks of effort. Am heading to Cornwall tomorrow with the lady to celebrate 6 years together. Good excuse for a break from the current intensity of work and writing. Had a random and delightful surprise friend request on Facebook today - the editor of a magazine who gave me my first non-ficion commision back in 1999. He's now in London... so I'm looking forward to a catch up with him at some point this year.

Over & Out.

Djr
 

Manifestation of the Power of Eight Group.

¦ dialling in from the SKy Bunker ¦

04:01 GMT, Wednesday 9th April 2008. Black outside. Very nearly black inside... just a wee lamp in the corner of the room throwing out a studious light the colour of dried parchment, and of course, the deep red infernal glow of my lava lamp.

Got my first mug of tea next to me. I'm pleased and surprised to be up this early today; yesterday I woke up at 01:49 Hrs. I didn't realise until I'd padded downstairs to put on a brew. Hey-ho, I'm not complaining and I'm getting loads done.

An envelope arrived in yesterday's post. Handwritten address. From New York. I opened it up, hand-written letter and a row of old-fashioned lapel badges sellotaped to the paper. Fiction continues to precede reality. This is the first tangible evidence of my Power of Eight group seeping into existence. The badge contains an iconic symbol of a group that has aligned itself with the fictional philosophy and creed of my Power of Eight.

I speared the front of my satchel with one badge pin, and handed another to Jo...who looked rather mystified but accepted my explanation and motives. Mwahahahaahaaa! *fake evil laugh*

Progress with Edge continues at a pleasing pace. Just about to wrap up Chapter 27. 41,000 words in.

I've noticed a spike in sales of Yellow Dawn. I'm curious to know what's happened out there to draw such interest. All good stuff.

I'm running a mid-week session of Yellow Dawn tonight with the guys: play-testing Shadows of the Quantinex. Tres exciting.

Over & Out.

Djr

Got my proof of Shadows of the Quantinex

¦ dialling in from workstation ¦

12:34 GMT, Monday 7^th April 2008. Lunch break. Sitting at my workstation with a mug of tea, following a delish spicy chicken pasty.

A stressful morning was interrupted by a beam of sunlight. A brown package from LULU…“Shadows of the Quantinex”.

This is my proof copy and the first time I’ve seen it in print. It looks great, although I’m so excited about having it in my hands I can’t focus long enough to give it a proper read-through. That’ll  be an on-going task to slip into periods between writing EDGE over the next few weeks. I’ve already spotted a couple of typos – this is to be expected as it is a Beta-version - which I'll fix, along with any other issues I might find, hopefully including feedback from the people who have already found / bought copies.

Meanwhile, the weekend was very good and very long. I’m now ploughing through Chapter 25 and up to 38,500 words on Edge.

I woke up Sunday morning to see the city and rolling hills of the surrounding countryside covered in snow. Took a break in the afternoon, dug out my old mini-disc player, had to sellotape the battery compartment shut; drove to the edge of the river and did some of the walk that follows the river along to Bath, or back into the city.

Djr

35,000

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

09:24 GMT, Saturday 5th April, 2008. Just returned home from a lovely little night out. Came home from work last night a little weary and saddle-sore. I cooked up some dinner, then dutifully climbed up into the Sky BUnker, sat down at my laptop and finished off Chapter 22. It had been a glorious sunny evening. Jo was away. I felt like I was missing out. So I packed up, jumped into Swampy and drove across the city to GBH's. Bottle of wine, low lights, big comfy sofa... I ease into a relaxed mood. We call DocToc and he's only a few streets away, on foot... It's the fourth or fifth time I've met DocToc, and the first time we've hooked up outside of Yellow Dawn. He's good company. Interesting revelation from him: about 6 months ago he'd been browsing the Net for Bristol game groups, having only relocated from Bostson, MA... and stumbled upon the part of my site with all the photos and write-up about my life... and read much of it, totally unaware that he would ever meet me or my friends.

He described the surreal situation of sitting in GBH's place, listening to our stories, not really knowing us but knowing the deep backgrounds, and the people we were talking about who he'd never met...

I smiled, and said, "Well your photo's on there now, so you're now part of that world."

We watch The Mist. Bloody hell, what an excellent film. Very Cthulhu Mythos. Very Yellow Dawn - or what Yellow Dawn could become with the new bolt-ons I've been mapping out (plan to write these up after finishing Edge, this Summer).

I woke up on the sofa at some point this morning, grey mist pressing up against the windows...fantastic, I smiled, at the eerie weather, at the fact my head didn't hurt...it was a good night, a great unwind. I left GBH to his deep sleep somewhere upstairs and departed.... the mist burned away to reveal glorious sunny day. Beautiful early morning drive back to Cosy Castle - dropping into Simon P's residence for a very brief HELLO.

So I'm looking forward to cracking on with Edge today and tomorrow, and spending some quality time with my lady when she gets back.

Djr

31,000

¦ Dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

I’ve just finished chapter 20. That’s 31,000 words since 18^th March. I had to go through a complex expansion of the underlying structure, creating four new chapters off-the-cuff that I’d not planned for, and then drop them into the existing structure. Painful few days but it’s done now.

Chapter 21 is the next target...

Djr

Edge - and - Shadows

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

07:01 GMT, Monday 31^st March 2008.  Kneeling on my ergonomic stool, sunbeams the colour of pale honey streaming in through the canopy above my head. Excellent weekend, not much progress with Edge but then I’m so far ahead of my schedule I feel comfortable spending a couple days on other things, although I was up at 6am on Saturday morning and wrapping up the latest chapter (16) and mapping out a complex change to the existing structure… (Halo’s background story dropped in between earlier chapters). I’ve done 25,000 words since 18^th March.

The guys came round Saturday lunchtime, bringing a collection of PIEMINSTER pies (yum-city) and we settled down to wrapping up lose threads from the last campaign and then starting “Shadows of the Quantinex”. I was so excited… after so many years of writing it, and now being able to actually play it. The game was like a session from the Old Days. We played through until midnight. It was fantastic. Chris picked up on the homage to Masks of Nyarlathotep, the way the campaign begins with a body in a hotel room and an orgy of evidence, which pleased me immensely… and I was delighted watching the players putting all the clues together to create ideas about the plot, and possible plot direction(s).

I’ve still not actually seen the proof copy of Shadows…. yet, which is slightly freaky because already a number of people have either gone looking for it or stumbled onto it, and purchased copies….  thanks go out to those people for taking the gamble on my work, especially when I’ve not even seen the final result yet. I welcome their feedback, particularly advising me of any errors they spot in this Beta version.

Djr

13,000

¦ dialling in from Jesus Mound ¦

06:55 GMT, Easter Monday, 24th March 2008. Sitting at my parents old dinning table, tucked away in a corner at the front of the house. Nick Drake is playing on random selection through laptop & earphones. To my left is a bow window, wooden latticed panes, a garden in shade...frost covered greenery, and beyond that the street bathed in bright early morning sunshine. To my right, the expanse of the house, an open plan view through the 1st lounge into the 2nd lounge and further, into the kitchen and breakfast area, all illuminated gently by light refracting through dense foliage of trees in the backgarden: shards of green and yellow light.

A half drunk mug of tea is sitting on a coaster.

Nobody else in the house is awake; not even the cats.

This has to be my favourite time of any day.

It's been a good holiday weekend. Drove up on Friday morning with Jo and her twin sister Sarah. It was Sarah's first time this far North, and she got to meet my mum for the very first time. My sister is up from London. Fredddy, the Dutch lodger has his wife over from Italy. The house has been wonderfully busy with people.

The weather has been slightly insane. Sunshine one moment, but temperatures hovering around zero degrees, then abrupt darkenings of the sky, heavy hail showers or big fat snow dumps. Then sunshine again. It feels slightly more like Christmas than Easter.

I started the new novel, Edge last Tuesday, 18th March, with a thumbnail plan of completing one chapter every 3 days: so I'm expecting to finish around mid-July. However, in the past 6 days I've finished off 8 chapters (13,000 words ¦ un-reviewed) so I'm pretty darn pleased with progress. This is thanks to several weeks of planning, prepping, plotting and character dev I did...starting back in 2000, then picking up and completing in 2005. So I'm praying that I did a good job of note making all the way through otherwise I'm going to get so far in and hit some blank section, where I didn't bother fleshing out the twisted plot threads...

Regardless, it's great to be writing a novel again after 3 years dominated by Yellow Dawn.

**Edit 17:17 GMT, just finished chapter 13, that's 22,000 words. Yay!

0,000

SHADOWS of the QUANTINEX - is born!!!

¦ dialling in from sky bunker ¦

19:33 GMT, Monday 17th March 2008.

"Check it" by Gary Numan - circa 1977-78 is playing on random selection. I've hit that weird zone, where you finish something and end up shooting over the rim of a temporal cliff edge... into a sort of noplace, where my imagination has nothing to grab onto anymore.

Thank fek!

Anyway, Shadows of the Quantinexis finished. Wahey! Finished enough to order a proof copy and play test properly - although I'm still tempted to make it available now, for a cheaper price, as a beta version and hopefully allow the feedback process to steer me through any required corrections.

Hmm, so, that was three years of my life - intertwined with many other things - that's just come to an abrupt conclusion.

I'm currently planning to complete the "New Tokyo, Orbit and Deep Space" supplement for Yellow Dawn, and a bolt-on expansion for evolving the whole DEAD CITY  --- ZOMBIE thing into something much more Mythos orientated. However, I'm gagging to get back to proper writing, and have a stack of novel ideas steaming in the abandoned sun, so I'm going to pick up EDGE and see if I can bang it out in 6 months or less.

Watch this space for progress.

Now I can respond to those outstanding Emails and FB-Messages :o)))

Djr

Rain - and - Wrapping Up Shadows

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

08:52 GMT, Sunday 16th March. I'm kneeling on my ergonomic stool, just touched down into the saddle, hopefully ready to start a very productive, and quite significant day. Bright yet grey sky above me, large drops of rain slamming against the canopy, the random surge and tug of wind against the eaves. Atmospheric... particularly as I'm in here, snug, wrapped in Starsky, bare legs ending in thick hand-knitted Norweigan socks; life-support blowing warm air from my right; a half-drunk mug of tea still warm on the desk. Random selction on the laptop is playing "Piano Concerto No. 5 in E Flat Major, Op. 73 "Emperor"/II."

I'm into the final dash to finish Shadows of the Quantinex. All the writing is done; I'm now into the tedious job of formatting the document (no artwork from Amy Armstrong other than the Chapter Starts), and ensuring all the bits are where they should be. I missed out on a potentially fab Friday night with my Viking half-brothers so I could "go to bed early!!!" in order to grab an pre-dawn start on Saturday. Which I did. Later on Saturday I smashed up an old wardrobe with my wonderful two-handed axe, outside the front of house (good territorial display to neighbours - all that was missing was a monkey suit and a piece of music I can't recall the name of, with some slo-mo added to the scene) before helping load the pieces into Jo's car so she could take it down to the recycling place.

Then I'm walking through a rain-lashed city centre- sans axe - and I realise I can't remember the last time I was here on a weekend. Grabbed a much needed haircut (first since November); feasted upon a Matador from PIEMINSTER, the best pies in the world, sitting in their open air bench style eatery, within the bustling market place of St Nicks, my breathing pluming in the cold air; then trudged through the rain to the Watershed, early for a rendezvous with a Yellow Dawn player (Mark). Had an argument with the manageress of the Watershed...I'd been sat there less than 5 minutes with my laptop open, doing some work whilst waiting for Mark, before she came over and told me to move to a stool & bench area...because I was taking up a table during busy lunch hour. I glanced across at several solitary people taking up whole tables with a newspaper and single cup of coffee... looked back at the manageress, my jaw dropping, my blood boiling, and she smiled, span on her heel and walked away before I could get a word out. I sat there, seething, and watched her walk across the cafe floor a few times before she finally engaged my eye-contact. I beckoned her back over with a curled finger. Come here. She walked over. I let loose. She backed down.  A small victory for sanity.

Mark arrived. We created a new character for him. I was pleased how well the rules worked. Some people were sharing our table and took interest. Conversations flowed, they were intelligent, interesting and engaging people. A nice moment in the random gush of life. I said goobye to them; goodbye to Mark.

I've spoken to mum a couple of times since she confirmed her situation. She still sounds incredibly positive, which I think will be the biggest deciding factor in how she beats the big C, and how we deal with the stress of seeing her go through it.

Some sanity has come back into the workplace after a frantic and frustrating few weeks - new systems, learning curves - so I'm once again back into the very fortunate situation of looking forward to next week. Great people. Great company. Long may it last!

And finally, I have to take Swampy into a garage today in prep for her MOT. Fingers crossed they give her a good bill of health, because I've really fallen in love with my old banger.

Djr

Carcinogen

¦ Dialling in from workstation ¦

Crazy times. Not much writing done at all since the big push to finish Shadows of the Quantinex the weekend before last; a combination of exhaustion following the current intensity of the job with some heavy-duty social scenarios, lack of sleep compounded by the insane winds that have been battering the country over the past few days… the howling, groaning, creaking sounds, and tumbled wheelie bins spilling their contents waking me up on a regular basis.  

I’ve barely touched my online life since last week either – apologies to anybody waiting for responses to emails, etc. Amongst all this, I learned today that our worst fears have been confirmed… tests, following a phone call from my mum two weeks ago, have shown she has lung cancer. Two weeks ago I was upset and angry at the idea… particularly because it's only been 13 months since my Dad died but, today, I’m feeling buoyant, immensely positive and hopeful. Hearing the confidence and strength in my mum’s voice over the phone, the both of us being able to laugh, it burns away the negative potential with beams of golden light.

Djr

Best Bagel in the world

Okay – so I’m a regular consumer of the best sushi in the world, a place called Yen Sushi.

I’ve now discovered something to fill the alternative lunchtimes…

The Whole Bagel

4 Upper Borough Walls, Bath, BAS1 1RG

www.thewholebagel.co.uk

I’ve been seeing a number of people here coming back with these things for weeks and finally made the effort to go there. I’m now hooked. The service is wonderful, the main man is delightfully polite and seems to take extra care with each customer. The food itself, well, what a mind-boggling taste explosion, fresh, high-quality produce.

Worth every penny. However be prepared to wait up to 5 minutes to get served… they get very popular and a little overwhelmed at lunchtime.

Djr

Perfect intense isolated bubble...

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

16:51 GMT, Saturday 1st of March 2008. Kneeling on my ergonomic stool, flesh pink and cooling from the hot bath I recently climbed out of - catching sight of the dense tangle of red, brown and white-blond hair that now covers my face - and with a fresh mug of tea steaming away on the desk that's been with me since 1993 (the desk, that is). Random selection on the laptop is playing "machine pour les oreilles" by Rinocerose. Very happy sounds. The sky above me is becoming a moody grey but the day itself has been alive with sunlight... for me only glimpsed through these windows and not felt upon the skin.

It's been a perfect day. I came home from work last night, leaving on time for once, to return to an empty house. Jo is away all weekend. I have no plans other than to write. I'm so close to the end of Shadows of the Quantinex I'm certain I can get it finished in the next couple days. I made a light snack then climbed up into the Sky Bunker. 2 x 45 minute sessions. Then sticking to my general rule of no computer after 9pm. Downstairs, some red wine, Poirot on TV, chilled, then laughing aloud when QI comes on. Then in bed...deep blissful sleep despite the gale force winds tugging at the house in every direction, roaring and rumbling and whistling through the single-paned windows.

I was up around 6.30. Back in the saddle in by 7 Am. Forty-five minutes on, then a 15 minute break... typically lying in the spare bedroom across from the Sky Bunker. A few minutes making a fresh mug of tea, or putting the expresso machine onto the flame, or vegging out in front of the TV for a few minutes: Prince Harry returned from Afghanistan today - after 10 weeks fighting the Taliban. I spoke to mum on the phone... no damage to the house from the winds, which were much stronger up North...although the house across the road suffered its chimmeny collapsing. I told her that when I came downstair this morning, I looked out of the kitchen window to find the patio was swept clean... where the hell was the Satan thorn-bush that I've still yet to defeat? Ah! I looked to my left and saw it had been bodily shoved and rolled up against a wall. Strong winds indeed.

SO progress has been exceptionally good. Depending on how long my brain can keep pumping out new content today, I may finish tonight - just leaving formatting and proofing. Unfortunately there's no food left in the house so I've been forced to get washed and put on some civillised clothes - peeling off my usual "all day" writing attire - and flatten down my hair.

Hmmm, blissto..."Down in the Park" by Gary Numan, the new version on HYBRID album has just popped on via random. "I come to Zum Zums - a place to eat - like it was built in one day - you can watch the humans trying to run. Oh look there's a rape machine, I'd go outside if it would look the other way."

Djr

**Edit: 22:47hrs. That's it, my brain is fucked. Heading downnnnstairs. Night all.

**Edit: 08:53 hrs. "Moving Through Time", by Angelo Badalamenti is playing on random selection. What divine sounds for a Sunday morning.. I've been in the saddle since 7.30. Time for a break, going to pad downstairs (with thick hand-knitted Norwegian socks keeping my feet warm) and brew up my 3rd mug of tea for the day. I've just finished the penultimate chapter of Shadows of Quantinex. I've got to write up an NPC for it, then I can start the final chapter. Yay!

**Edit: 13:36hrs. Done. Just finished the final chapter. Though it's no point to celebrate. I still need to review the whole document, do the formating and chase down Amy Armstrong for artwork; but I'm smiling and happy, and feel like I've accomplished what I set out to do this weekend. The happy bouncy sounds of "Sweep" by Faithless is playing via random selection.

shadow on my horizon? - progress with latest project - exhaustion!

¦ dialling in from Jesus Mound ¦

18:40 GMT, Sunday 24th Feb 2008. Sitting at the wide expanse of oak table in the cavernous lounge / kitchen; absolute darkness beyond the square lattice panes of the french doors to my left; mum and Jo reclined in chairs by the large cast iron wood-burning stone ahead of me; shadows, candlelight, several small occaisional lamps... all very cosy. The KLF, "Six Hours to Louisiana, Black Coffee Going Cold" is playing on random selection.

Drove up to Newcastle with Jo on Saturday morning.  Can't really say why, but... there's a potential dark cloud on the sun-kissed horizon of my world, closer than I ever imagined possible. A phone call last week. Me fighting back tears, stunned, having to bottle it all up, get on with work... running the show whilst my boss is away for the week... then my boss pops in at the end of the day... I can tell him what I'm going through.... we hit a bar... drinks flow... I flux between being upset and angry. But I deal with it. I have too.

It's been a crazy week, even without this. I really noticed the absence of my boss... the workload became insane, but amazingly satisfying and even enjoyable at the same time.

I got an email a few days ago from the organiser of a sci-fi literary and RPG convention, "...would like to invite you as a guest of honour..." My first reaction was utter terror. I've spent so many years as a solitary figure, hunched over a type-writer, then word-processor, PC and now laptop... the idea of having to step into a public arena is initially totally anathemic to me...

But now I'm looking forward to it; hopefully a few friends will come along (ahem!) and give me moral support.

Slow progress with writing last week. Grrrr. However, I sense I could finish next weekend... or certainly by the weekend after. Then a couple weeks of tidying up the formatting - trying to get hold of Amy Armstrong so she can do her thing with images...

...I'm thinking about releasing a beta-version of Shadows of Quantinex, with a significant discount on the proviso that people understand it comes with typos and possible plot flaws...hoping that they'll feedback to me what needs fixing so I can put together a more polished version. Or maybe I'll just hold it back until I've gone through a full play-test with the guys. *shrugs* I'll see how I feel after I've finished.

Zero 7, "When it Falls", just came on via random. Ahh, blisto, what a divine track. Time to refill my glass of wine and go spend some time with mum and Jo by the fire...watching flames flickering in the low light of the room.

Over & Out.

Djr

Monday brings bulging veins...

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

03:39 GMT, Tuesday 19th Feb, 2008. Kneeling on my ergonomic stool, "That's Love, That It Is" by Blancmange playing by random selection on my laptop. Darkness presses down on the glass canopy above my head.

Jo and I polished off a bottle of red wine between us last night. I needed it. One of those days where you spend most of it with gritted teeth, sullen jaw, bulging eyes and the veins in your temples throbbing away... my boss is away all this week so I'm running the fort solo... fortunately I work with great people... so although work is intense, and no doubt contributing to my "stormtrooper mood" - as Matthias P would describe my state of mind when I look ready to kill somebody - the main reason for Monday's state of mind is my writing. I'd had such an amazing flow on Saturday - in one day I achieved what usually takes me a week of early mornings before work and evenings after work... I'm now very close to finishing Shadows of the Quantinex: this is something that I started in 2005... so after so long, suddenly seeing the end on the horizon I'm filled with extra gusto... it's no longer cold clinical process to get it done... I'm back to raw passion, and frustration, frustration from each and every interruption. I've been here before. Every time I reach the final stage of a major piece of work I become a monster.

So, I need to chill.

Sebastien Tellier, "Fantino" just started playing...how appropriate...very chilled. *sighs...calm*

Djr

Thread Killer...

¦ dialling in from sky bunker ¦

19:23 GMT, Sunday 17th Feb, 2008. Just dropped down onto my ergonomic stool, steam still rising from my skin after the hot bath I clambered out of a few moments ago... big glass of red wine... *slow smile*

Currently have William Obit, Hinterland album playing by direct choice on the laptop. Very mellow sounds that take me right back to 1994-95... amazing how music can do that, transport you viscerally to a distant place and time. Now...lying in the bath, listening to the music from upstairs, supping red wine from a broad goblet of lead crystal...with 3 novels published and an RPG under my belt... back then: sitting cross legged on the wooden floor of a large room in Hotwells, Bristol... Maria'O had recently departed from my world, and I had only just returned from an aborted attempt to move back to Newcastle. Simon P and Mick T were new friends in my life. We were playing a lot of Call of Cthulhu, 1920s style... I had only recently transcribed the original version of GOD SEED from the Amstrad Word Processor to 3.5" floppy diskette (thanks to covert trips to Bristol Polytechnic IT Lab)... the Happy Flat and Matthias P did not exist within chemically locked molecules of my brain. Ahhh, the joy of reflection. As opposed to the sadness of nostalgia.

Did you know I am a Thread Killer? I say this because it seems my natural inclination to be forward, friendly and helpful is not helping me in the slightest. Over the past few weeks since I launced Yellow Dawn I've found several threads springing up on forums with posts by people discussing Yellow Dawn. I've been diving in, saying hello and "can I answer any questions?" to which the unanimous response has been...silence! In fact, every thread I've ever dived into has subsequently died. Great move, Mr Djr. Jo, my girlfriend said, "People are probably pissed off you're there... they want to be able to talk about stuff without thinking your watching". My brain made an "Ah!" sound.

I really needed to have the long hot soak in the tub tonight... I had a fight today with nature's version of Satan. What am I on about? A thick limbed, wirey bastard of a thorn bush that I ripped out of the garden a year ago. During 2007...through Spring, Summer, Autumn and now Winter, that sprawling mass of spine-festooned evil has been taking-up the patio. Today, in the golden rays of a freezing afternoon sun, I figured, "Ah-ha! You'll be as tame as an old man gaffer-taped to his zimmer frame"... but no, how wrong I was. I launched into the dead bush with heavy boots and thick gloves, and found every part of me snagged, caught, spiked, punctured, cut and sliced by the fekking barbed and evil thing. I thought I would have been able to carve it up and drag it's god-forsaken remains into my car and take it to the recycling place... but it beat me. Burn it? I could... but every neighbour has their washing hanging from lines strung across gardens...I would not be a popular man. I'm going to buy some thicker gloves... and maybe borrow a chainsaw? Who knows...

Apart from that, this weekend has been divine. Spent all day Saturday working on Shadows of Quantinex and made great strides toward the final part. I'm really close to finishing, and that is an exciting feeling.

Djr

My Bloody Valentine

¦ dialling in from sky bunker ¦

02:52 AM on the 14th Feb, 2008. Life support is on, blowing warm air across my legs. TALK TALK, Living in Another World has just come on the laptop via random play.

Went to bed early last night - following the Monday night whisky session with my boss and generally burning the candle this week. I woke up and my brain snapped alert. I thought it was about 4Am so got up to get in some writing before work... but after pulling on my thick Norweigan hand-knitted socks and Starsky cardi, padding downstairs and brewing the first mug of tea for the day, I discovered it was only just past 1 o'clock in the morning. Bugger! It's been pretty cool though...brain's working okay despite the time.

So I've spent the past couple hours working on Shadows of Quantinex, just wrapping up a major chapter set in a city in Eastern Europe (interesting going back there in a fictional sense after the trauma of getting kidnapped/robbed there a few years ago: the usual honey trap that I still can't believe I was stupid enough to fall for, but there you go). So I'm very pleased with progress on Shadows...

I'm also pleased with sales. I quickly checked the sales figures from my publisher, what a delight...in the 6 weeks since the New Year, I've sold as many books as the last 6 months of 2007. Launching Yellow Dawn has certainly helped, although I'm not seeing much cross-interest from people who buy Yellow Dawn in then going on to buy my books. I'm quite surprised by this. I mean, these are people who are "into" Lovecraft's Cthulhu Mythos and the Cyberpunk genre... my novels walk the same path (although in an earlier period to the setting of Yellow Dawn)...so I think I need to work harder (somehow) on putting this point across. Mind you, it could just be the fact people think my books are crap! *smiles*. 

Ah, GREEN DAY, Boulevard of Broken Dreams has just come on. Nice.

Right, enough of this, back to Eastern Europe...

Oh yeah, it's Valentines Day. Whoo-hooo! *cynical*

Good band though (MBV)

Djr

Monday - Early February 2008

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

07:47 GMT, 11th Feb 2008...early Monday morning. Baby blue colours are seeping into the grey-gloom sky as night fades into day. A lava lamp is casting deep red light across the desk; Pink Floyd is playing on random selection through my laptop. Back in Bristol now after a few days in Newcastle. I flew up there in a gale that had the plane thrown around like a cork trapped in a turbulent river. It's not often I think I'm about to die. Interesting who you think about during those moments.

I was up there for a long weekend, to relax, work on Shadows of Quantinex, and take stock of the last few weeks.

It's been an amazingly productive and positive few weeks for me, despite seeing the New Year in sat in a chair in a darkened room, 3 o'clock in the morning, shivering and delirious, rubbing my hands repeatedly across my thighs and rocking back and forward...sweat seeping through my bed clothes, too hot... too cold... and eventually dropping to the floor and puking up a lung. I remember thinking, "Please don't let this be a portent of my year to come...!"

So far thought, a cautious so good. I finished and released Yellow Dawn, after 2 years of development, play-testing, writing, play-testing, reading-reviewing, play-testing and editing; and I found TESCO have started selling one of my novels, God Seed.

I gave Yellow Dawn a soft launch, so sales are very slow, but I've already picked up web-chatter on a forum about it, by people I don't know and scarily...have no control over; I'm waiting to see their opinions once their copies of the game arrive. Hopefully it will be positive and stand up to scrutiny.

Music on laptop just changed to Front Line Assembly - Tactical Neural Implant (an albumn I got into waaaay back in 1993)... damn, *stops and sits upright* in fact, I just realised, I first got into this album when I first started mapping out a plot-idea, one that eventually became the first incarnation of God Seed. How ironic, in the light of the fact I'm now talking about the progress of God Seed following it's birth into the real world. TESCO, Waterstones, and several other resellers have now made God Seed available through thier channels. Sales are up.

I have to mention the amazing encouragement I've had from Floyd Hayes, my publicist in New York. Naturally he's been getting aquainted with the work he's intending to promote, and for the last few months I've been getting these sporadic bursts of incredibly positive feedback. Thank you!

Music has now switched to Faithless, one of their timeless classics from the mid/late 1990s. Time to wrap this up I think.

Hope you enjoy reading these musings.

Peace

Djr

Pandering for Publicity

¦ dialling in from workstation ¦

14:00 GMT, Thursday, 7^th Feb 2008. Just got back from an interesting lunch rendezvous. Met up with the editor a major print magazine and online, who is also based in Bath; we grabbed a coffee and chewed the fat about books, roleplaying games and the concept of Print on Demand.

He’s a jolly decent chap. I’m asking the magazine will do a piece on me; he was very honest and described an overwhelming mountain of submissions from other writers, plus the big names like Banks who he most certainly wants to include, but, he also said that he was interested… and described some of the opportunities that are on the horizon. He was certainly impressed by the production quality of LULU’s books, and seemed genuinely thrilled by what I’ve managed to achieve through my own steam to date. All in all it was a very positive encounter.

Djr

Onsdag Morning

¦ dialling in from workstation ¦

13:32 GMT, Wednesday 6^th Feb, 2008. Just bumped into a guy who works in my building, as we congregated around the sandwich-basket-donkey for our morning fix of “something-with-mayonnaise”.

The guy saw me, his eyebrows lifted before smiling, then he said, “You bastard, you’re the reason I got no sleep last night.”

I returned the smile, slightly cautious, kind of knowing what was coming next but not wanting to be presumptive, and then really pleased when the guy said, “I was reading God Seed last night and I couldn’t stop.”

We spent a couple minutes chatting about what he'd read so-far. Brought back all the characters and visuals for me...kind of like getting to watch your favourite film for the first time again. Great stuff. 

Nice feeling.

More please.

Djr

Letters - Dante's Fool

¦ dialling in from Jesus Mound ¦

A copy of some correspondance that pleased me.

> From: floydhayes@xxxxxx
> To: clovenfeet@xxxxxx
> Subject: RE: Saturday AM...
> Date: Sat, 2 Feb 2008 19:13:14 +0000
>
>
> It was a command to the Demon - asking it to appear in human form without deformity or tortuosity - nice bit of demonology sir :)
>
> Man, weird night last night - I sat in this bar in SoHo - rain pouring - hard week. I just sat and sped through the last part of Dante's Fool - I literally couldn't put it down (what a cliche but so true). It was an amazing rush - and 4/5 pints later I just started bombarding the contacts I have here to get their shit together etc...I think I may have threatened SC with demonic summoning and subsequent torture....oops....I think he can take it :)
>
> Anyway, cheers for the ride and let's chat next week.
>
> F.
>
>
> ________________________________
> > From: clovenfeet@xxxxx
> > To: floydhayes@xxxxx
> > Subject: Saturday AM...
> > Date: Sat, 2 Feb 2008 00:08:12 +0000
> >
> > Morning fella
> > I'm in Newcastle. There are blizzards here.
> >
> > Got your text about "tortuosity"... not quite sure what you mean? Is it a good thing? *smiles uncertainly*
> >
> > Hope you're well.
> >
> > David
> >
> >
> >
> > To learn more about David Rodger, visit his website:
> >
> > www.davidjrodger.com
> >
> > Or browse David's catalogue of written work through LULU's online storefront:
> >
> > http://stores.lulu.com/zuffi
> >
> > Preview or purchase one of David's paperbacks today
> >
> >
> > Some people read the story & just read a story
> > Some people read the story & it opens their eyes.......all three of them
> >
> >
> >
> >
> > ________________________________
> > Date: Fri, 25 Jan 2008 14:14:07 +0000
> > Subject: hilo
> > To: clovenfeet@xxxxxx
> > From: floyd@xxxxxx
> >
> > Hilo DJR
> >
> > So, I met up with SC last night and gave him 'Iron Man Project' and 'Dante's Fool' (I bought two copies as not done with mine yet). Had a good chat. He was intrigued about Tesco and wondered how you got the deal with a publisher - good question? Anyway, it's done you in good stead - he'll be tackling the new books with renewed interest.
> >
> > He did say God Seed had really stuck with him, which is very good praise given the amount of stuff this chap has to read and deal with.
> >
> > We'll see.
> >
> > This interested me, I was viewing article about country home boiler maintainance (ha ha - read that whilst looking at the picture you took of me on the kitchen floor in London) and this quote came out, this will happen to all things:
> >
> > “With a high-efficiency modern furnace, I wouldn’t recommend someone try fixing it themselves,” Mr. Wheeler said. “With an old one, you can go down to the hardware store and get most parts. But you know how it’s getting impossible to work on cars because they’re so modern. That’s what’s happening to furnaces.”
> >
> >

Read the 1st adrenaline-charged chapter of this cyberpunk crime thriller

DANTE's FOOL

Detective Sergeant Louis Cloud wrestles to reconcile two separate investigations. One involves the armed robbery of a courier outside London. The second involves the ritualistic murder of prostitutes and mutilation of men. All is not as it first seems. Political corruption, racism, dirty tricks by intelligence agencies, hackers and black magic are some of the challenges faced by DS Cloud as he struggles to discover the truth. One woman becomes the focus of this struggle. Natalia Dorganskya, daughter of a wealthy movie industry icon, who turned to crime and now risks paying with more than just her life. Something wants to find her, and it is after blood. DS Cloud has to find her first but knows he might not be able to stop the terrifying consequences of where he has chosen to tread.

Download the Free Sample:

http://www.davidjrodger.com/Dantes%20Fool%20-%20a%20crime%20thriller%20cyberpunk%20genre%20by%20David%20J%20Rodger%20-%20Sample.pdf

 

Buy the book:

http://www.lulu.com/content/673745

My girlfriend bought me a two handed axe

Several kilos of wonderful steel and a bright orange hybrid fibreglass haft, over a metre long, with black wraparound neoprene grip.

Perfect ornament for my Sky Bunker...though I'm wary of friends who come around and their initial response is to pick it up and whirl around with it outstretched in a great arc of (potential) devastation. See me jumping back very quickly.

Bring on Yellow Dawn - I'm ready!

Djr

Letters -

¦ dialling in from my workstation ¦

A copy of some correspondance that pleased me.

-----Original Message-----
From: David Rodger 
Sent: 18 January 2008 17:52
To: 'Floyd'
Subject: RE: Power of Eight

Afternoon fella

Glad you're enjoying Dante's Fool. I had an awesome time writing that: it took me 2 years, August 1997 to September 1999.

Rollello Corp... actually, I was inspired by James Ellroy. I had just "discovered" Ellroy whilst writing Dante's Fool, and then saw LA CONFIDENTIAL.... I think it was the name Rollo Tomasi that stuck in my brain. Go figure.

Serious Crime Division isn't owned by UTOC, although certain parts of UTOC would have power of it, if it chose to.

WARNING: The UDP does not exist yet, not in the current timeframe of Dante's Fool. The UDP only came into existence after Yellow Dawn - which is still many years away.

I look forward to your TSC outline.... and to more feedback on Dante's Fool. It reawakens memories and moods when I hear people talking about it (all my stories in fact).

Peace

David

-----Original Message-----
From: Floyd
Sent: 18 January 2008 17:41
To: David Rodger
Subject: RE: Power of Eight

You just made me lol.

So, getting into Dante's Fool.  I LOVE the fuckable anus chair - inspired mate and very 'lucid dream' that kind of odd shift in reality as the future slowly seeps into the now...

Rollello Corp is a great name - where'd you get that one?

Also is the SCD owed by the UDP or UTOC?

I love the bits of detail in this one, Cloud taking a sip out of his SCD branded coffee thermos for some reason had me laughing hard.  God knows why, but it is the sort of thing someone would have ordered at the 'station.'

PARAGRAPH 4 page 60 should read, "Cloud liked laying his files out LIKE this."

Finally, having lots of fun thinking of how TSC fits into the picture - I'm onto to something nice I think and will outline it when it feels right.

Cheers.

Floyd.

On Friday, January 18, 2008, at 04:11AM, "David Rodger"wrote:
>Silver grey!
>
>Shit.
>
>Erm, well.....maybe silver grey was too difficult a colour to make after Yellow Dawn happened.so they changed it to white. Ahem! :o)  So you can leave it silver grey until there's an apocalypse.
>
>
>
>Glad you approve of the inclusion.
>
>
>
>Very happy you like Power of Eight.
>
>
>
>Peace & Love
>
>
>
>Djr
>
>
>
>-----Original Message-----
>From: Floyd
>Sent: 17 January 2008 19:16
>To: David Rodger
>Subject: Re: Power of Eight
>
>
>
>Oops found it!
>
>
>
>AND am massive, massively flattered and excited - wow, the 'largest benefactor' of Po8, I almost came there :)
>
>
>
>You got it right expect the monarch is on a silver gray background not white.
>
>
>
>Damn, you got a man to thinking now...
>
>
>
>Floyd.
>
>
>
>OS
>
>
>
>thanks!
>

Yellow Dawn - Read about the shocking events behind the Outbreak

Read about the shocking events behind the Outbreak, and the subsequent 2nd wave that brought terror snarling and screaming on the heels of the tragedy.

Yellow Dawn - What Happened.

Download the PDF here:

http://www.davidjrodger.com/Yellow%20Dawn-%20Sample-What%20Happened.pdf

Djr

TESCO selling my novel, God Seed

http://www.tesco.com/books/search.aspx?Ntt=david+j+rodger&VSI=1&Ntk=primary&Nty=1&Ntx=mode%2Bmatchall

Every little helps!

A blend of cyberpunk and Cthulhu Mythos - I'm surprised they went for it.

Djr

Progress...

¦ dialling in from workstation ¦

12:26 GMT, Wednesday 16th Jan, 2008. Leaning back in a sumptuous comfortable chair, flat screen monitor, headphones plugged in and music switching through random: currently blasting Sisters of Mercy.

I nearly didn't make it in today - the heavy rain of the last few days has flooded the tiny country road I use to get between Bristol and Bath... Swampy nearly became a boat this morning, thankfully the old girl was able to push through the deep waters without stalling.

It's been over a week since I pushed Yellow Dawn through a soft launch and a few have sold already, despite no real promotion as yet. So I'm very pleased. Still waiting to get a proof copy from the publisher... looking forward to getting my mits on the finished product.

GOD SEED and IRON MAN PROJECT have been selling well, although DANTES FOOL has recently picked up more interest...perhaps Demonic entities and bad-ass cops are the flavour of 2008?

Random music switched to Eurythmics - I've got an Angel.

Following a couple of fun realspace escapades with my New York publicist I've picked up an idea he touted: a project he's working on called "The Social Club". He's been very much taken by the "Power of Eight" concept I brought into IRON MAN PROJECT and subsequently the world of YELLOW DAWN; I joked and said I could become the next L.Ron Hubbard with my own fictional cult becoming a real entity... he mentioned the Social Club and wondered if I could incorporate it within the Power of Eight construct. The Social Club will now espouse Power of Eight concepts. Fiction precedes reality.

I finally shrugged free of the mucus-monster man-flu, releasing my brain to surge back into top gear...currently writing out a major campaign for Yellow Dawn "Shadows of the Quantinex". Months of work still ahead of me.

Random music switched to Dead Can Dance - the Ubiquitous Mr Lovegrove.

Over & out

Djr

Signatures and Self-Doubt

¦ dialling in from sky bunker ¦

22nd Jan, 2008. It's cold tonight; after days of strangely mild weather it's rather refreshing. Can't believe tomorrow is going to be Wednesday...already. I'm still savouring the weekend. Nothing amazing... just two days of not leaving the house... two days of continous rain, mist and grey skies (which I love)... two days of sitting up here in the Sky Bunker, hearing the wind moaning and puffing through the roof timbers, seeing the glass canopy above me speckling with large droplets that then slide, jerked and tugged into jagged lines by the gale.

Had an interesting experience at work today. A bloke who works on the same floor as me told me he'd bought my book GOD SEED in a local store, here in Bath. I was chuffed. He stopped by my desk to say hello, let me see the book, and then he put it down and made to walk away... I looked at him and he said, "Perhaps you can put a few words in it for me?"
I was flattered.

Also discovered some web chatter about YELLOW DAWN yesterday. An online forum with some people asking if anybody knew much about it. The feeling I experienced was one of sheer terror. I've spent the best part of 2 years of my life developing this, invested a lot of money into it...what if it isn't any good? What if people don't like it? The general vibe from the forum was positive, curious... one person had bought a copy and was waiting for delivery. So let's wait and see.

Djr