Tag: writing

Started a new story today. It will probably end up being another serial. It is unashamedly inspired by the TV show Vikings. But, of course, it’s totally different, because it’s the kind of story I write.

WYRD

By James L. Wilber

Chapter 1

I looked into the eyes of the wolf. It sat some twenty-yards off from the make-shift pen they had put us in, a lattice of branches lashed together with bits of rope. I’ve always had keen eyesight, but no, no man can see a wolf’s eyes from such a distance. I only had the feeling. The weight of a connection. I’ve had this connection before, with wolves and serpents. I laughed, sitting there in the cold mud, waiting to die. My prayers had once again been answered. I was totally screwed.

Make no mistake, I am a bastard. Many men in my position have given themselves airs. I make no such vain-glorious claims. All I can say is that a presence has followed me all of my lives. I know what that presence is. It doesn’t make me great. It doesn’t make me better. In fact, it’s fucked me over more than anything else. That’s what he does.

The brown wolf laid down, resting its chin on its paws, staring at me. It wasn’t a big one, more sleek and lean. I knew it wasn’t an ordinary wolf. For one thing, it was alone. Wolves, like other successful predators, for example jackals, and men, travel in packs. This one’s pack may have been circling nearby, but I doubted it. No pack of wolves were crazy enough to fuck with an armed encampment, fires blazing. Not even to pick off the ones tied up in a pen.

Some of my incarcerated fellows spotted my new friend and cried out. “Wolf! Wolf!”

A couple of the jailers came over, swaggering in their chain-armor, swords slapping against their thighs. “Shut up!”

The man next to me with no right hand demonstrated his stupidity. “The wolf will eat us in the night!”

A third jailer appeared, carrying a bucket of water, which he sloshed on the complainer, soaking him, and me, and the others around him. Say what you want about the medieval mind, these were clever people. They always found a way to make things more miserable. Nothing like freezing in the night, huddled up against a dozen filthy, reeking, diseased, fellow prisoners, clothes soaked with seawater. Our execution in the morning would seem a blessing. I settled back, resting up against the fattest one in the lot, and tried to fall asleep. If I slept, there was a good chance I would wake up in a bed in some hostel, deliciously warm and dry. I would tip-toe, barefoot, over to convenient nearby vending machines. They would sell me pissed-out tea or coffee. Another would provide a chunk of chemicals and fats, sweeter than any of these men have dreamed of. But when the rotund prick kneed me in the back, my intuition told me this was not to be, not now. I’ve learned to trust my intuition.

The jailer with the bucket, a big fellow, with a magnificent, braided, blond beard, set it down and picked up a rock at the same time. He whipped it at the wolf, and it bounced at least ten feet away from the creature. The wolf, being no idiot, jumped up and scampered off. The rock posed no threat, but it knew how egotistical men were. When a human wants to fuck with you, you had better give it a wide berth. It didn’t go far, however. Even in the dim light of evening I could see it lurking in the tall reeds that grew along this rocky shore. It bided its time, for whatever it planned on doing. No sleep, no return trip for me, I had better be ready when it did.

Last Words

Afterward for My Babylon, Book One: Body

“Oh the demon monkeys that live in my hair will have their message heard!”

— Patton Oswalt

If you’ve made it this far you can blame Stephan Michael Loy. Steve, my friend, my fellow writer, my best critic, said something that shocked me to the core last November.

“I’m going to self-publish my books from now on.”

Understand, this is a man who gets up at 4 am every morning like clock-work, weekends included, so he can write. He mows the lawn, bakes his own bread, and lives clean. He lives firm by the principle that money flows to the author, not away. He is not apt to be swayed by fads. He’s not the kind of guy who wants to spend hours promoting a book. Yet even he had seen the writing on the wall.

The publishing industry is changing, has changed. Amazon has blown everything up, and the pieces have yet to land. I’m not going to prognosticate about what’s going to happen. I don’t see the big publishing houses fading away anytime soon. But the small guys, the weird guys, guys like me, now have a chance, even if it’s a tiny one. Fuck, it’s always been a chance in Hell.

Steve turned me on to the Self Publishing Podcast, and things snowballed from there. My fellow self-publishers have struck out on their own for lots of reasons. Some appreciate the royalty scheme, a lot more goes to the author because you cut out the middlemen. Some people just don’t like being told when and how to publish, I fit in that category. And, let’s face it, a whole lot of self-publishers suck. They refuse to learn and hone their craft. They’re never going to make it past the gauntlet of agents and editors because their stuff is just not that good. I may fit in that category as well, you’ll have to be the judge of that.

While I considered the virtues of self-publishing, I wrestled with another problem. I wanted to tell a certain story. I had a theme I wanted to conquer, but after two false starts, it seemed a no-go. Then the light bulb went off. Self-publishing not only meant I didn’t have to beg and scrape to the gatekeepers, it meant I could write the kind of stories I wanted to write. I didn’t have to care if they were commercial. I didn’t have to tone them down so fourteen-year-old girls could read them. I could write about the things I cared about without layer upon layer of allegory.

That’s how we got to Michel. Every author puts some of themselves in their characters. I hope he doesn’t come off as some kind of adolescent wish fulfillment. I would never want to be Mike. He’s horribly flawed. So am I, but I have my own, I don’t need his as well. In a way, this book is all about my horrible flaws. Things I can never be forgiven for. I think all good fiction should be about themes that important. The publishers have lost sight of that in their rush to find the next Stephanie Meyers.

My beta-readers have panned my main character, especially how he was presented in the first chapter. They’re probably right. I should have listened to them. But I share more than a couple of traits with Mike. I live in my head all the time. I detest malls. I also identify with his long dark night of the soul, when everything turns off, and you become an automaton. As my guru Trent Reznor says, “The me that you know is now made up of wires….” You live for a glimmer of hope. A chance in Hell. Killing the Mike in the first chapter felt too much like killing myself, like lying. Once again, you’ll have to be the judge. Maybe I should have had the courage to kill my darlings. Or maybe you’ve been there. Maybe you’ve had your own dark night of the soul.

Ave Babalon

James L. Wilber

04/22/2013

I/III/I

Amazon.com: Matchmaker: A Short Story eBook: James L. Wilber: Kindle Store

Amazon.com: Matchmaker: A Short Story eBook: James L. Wilber: Kindle Store

Download Matchmaker: A Short Story by James L. Wilber: I make people. I make your perfect match, your best friend, your true love. I make them alluring, breathtaking, hard as hell to resist. All the data that goes into a human being, memories, genetics, biochemistry, I collect and process that information. I put it together, mix and match to taste, and spit out the person you’re going to fall in love with.

They’re 100% real, and 100% virtual.

But is that enough? Where’s the spark? What’s the thing that makes love true?

—

Matchmaker is a short story set fifteen minutes into the future where the rich buy online people to call their own.

Written by James L. Wilber, game designer, podcaster, and author of My Babylon, the serial novel about the occult and dark desires, coming to Amazon Kindle April 30th, 2013.

Today is the last day to get my short story for free on Kindle. I could really use some more reviews.

Amazon.com: Matchmaker: A Short Story eBook: James L. Wilber: Kindle Store

Amazon.com: Matchmaker: A Short Story eBook: James L. Wilber: Kindle Store

scrollofthoth:

Download Matchmaker: A Short Story by James L. Wilber: I make people. I make your perfect match, your best friend, your true love. I make them alluring, breathtaking, hard as hell to resist. All the data that goes into a human being, memories, genetics, biochemistry, I collect and process that information. I put it together, mix and match to taste, and spit out the person you’re going to fall in love with.

They’re 100% real, and 100% virtual.

But is that enough? Where’s the spark? What’s the thing that makes love true?

—-

Matchmaker is a short story set fifteen minutes into the future where the rich buy online people to call their own.

Written by James L. Wilber, game designer, podcaster, and author of My Babylon, the serial novel about the occult and dark desires, coming to Amazon Kindle April 30th, 2013.

Signal Boosting – Please reblog and help a new writer.

OTHER WAYS TO HELP

Just go and download a copy. It’s free, and every time you do it moves up Amazon’s listings making it easier for people to find.

REVIEW

Please leave a review, they are the only thing that encourages people to take a chance on new authors.

Last time tonight I will reblog this. I swear.

Amazon.com: Matchmaker: A Short Story eBook: James L. Wilber: Kindle Store

Amazon.com: Matchmaker: A Short Story eBook: James L. Wilber: Kindle Store

Download Matchmaker: A Short Story by James L. Wilber: I make people. I make your perfect match, your best friend, your true love. I make them alluring, breathtaking, hard as hell to resist. All the data that goes into a human being, memories, genetics, biochemistry, I collect and process that information. I put it together, mix and match to taste, and spit out the person you’re going to fall in love with.

They’re 100% real, and 100% virtual.

But is that enough? Where’s the spark? What’s the thing that makes love true?

—

Matchmaker is a short story set fifteen minutes into the future where the rich buy online people to call their own.

Written by James L. Wilber, game designer, podcaster, and author of My Babylon, the serial novel about the occult and dark desires, coming to Amazon Kindle April 30th, 2013.

Signal Boosting – Please reblog and help a new writer.

OTHER WAYS TO HELP

Just go and download a copy. It’s free, and every time you do it moves up Amazon’s listings making it easier for people to find.

REVIEW

Please leave a review, they are the only thing that encourages people to take a chance on new authors.

Amazon.com: Matchmaker: A Short Story eBook: James L. Wilber: Kindle Store

Amazon.com: Matchmaker: A Short Story eBook: James L. Wilber: Kindle Store

Download Matchmaker: A Short Story by James L. Wilber: I make people. I make your perfect match, your best friend, your true love. I make them alluring, breathtaking, hard as hell to resist. All the data that goes into a human being, memories, genetics, biochemistry, I collect and process that information. I put it together, mix and match to taste, and spit out the person you’re going to fall in love with.

They’re 100% real, and 100% virtual.

But is that enough? Where’s the spark? What’s the thing that makes love true?

—

Matchmaker is a short story set fifteen minutes into the future where the rich buy online people to call their own.

Written by James L. Wilber, game designer, podcaster, and author of My Babylon, the serial novel about occult and dark desires, coming to Amazon Kindle April 30th, 2013.

IT’S HERE!

My first story published on Amazon.

PLEASE HELP

Just go and download a copy. It’s free, and every time you do it moves up Amazon’s listings making it easier for people to find.

REVIEW

Please leave a review, they are the only thing that encourages people to take a chance on new authors.