When we buy a magazine – in ebook or print – we’re directly helping that publication to stay alive. But so much content online these days is essentially free and relies on the generosity of its fans to keep it going. I read a thing recently that talked about how downloading doesn’t really cost sales. From the article:

The report states that around a third of Swiss citizens over 15 years old download pirated music, movies and games from the Internet. However, these people don’t spend less money as a result because the budgets they reserve for entertainment are fairly constant. This means that downloading is mostly complementary.

On the whole, people can be honest and kind and they do value the things they consume. I’m firmly against DRM and all for open source and Creative Commons. I think it engenders a greater sharing of art and a greater consumption overall. The Swiss study cited above seems to validate that opinion. I know for a fact that I’ve bought music from a band I discovered via downloads. I’ve bought books by authors after borrowing one of their works from a friend too, and that’s exactly the same thing. It’s all about learning that these things exist, discovering that we like them and subsequently paying for those things we enjoy.

With stuff that’s always free, however, like podcasts, it’s not so easy to follow that line of action and end up giving back. So we have to make that little bit of extra effort and find a way to give. Most podcasts, ezines, magazines, publishers and so on have a PayPal option on their site for you to drop a few shekels through and show your appreciation. Tis the season to be loving and generous, so get online and get clicking. Throw some cash around. It only has to be the cost of a few beers and you’ll be making a real difference to your culture and the livelihoods of struggling artists like myself – we need places to sell our work to, and they need cookies to pay us. It’ll make you a better person, I promise.

(Incidentally, Thrillercast has a donate button too. Just, you know, in case you were interested.)

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Check it out here: http://www.tarasharp.com/author-in-focus-alan-baxter/

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1. to strip the blubber or the skin from (a whale, seal, etc.).

2. to strip off (blubber or skin).

Beware – Harsh truth approaching: We are not good enough.

None of us are good enough. Sure we can get good. Good enough to be published. We can continually get better, assuming we have that desire and constantly work at our craft. Which we all should, of course. But, on our own, in our little bubbles of imagination and twisted ideas, we’re not good enough. We need to be better than we’re capable of being on our own. For that, we need the unbiased, critical eyes of others.

As a writer, I work alone. It’s part of the job and it’s one of the things I love about it. I also love the community of writers I’ve gathered around myself over the years, online and in real life. And therein lies the key. I have a handful of talented writer friends who are happy to read and critique my work. I’m happy to return the favour. It’s how our world goes around. I’m actually very lucky in that the majority of writerly friends happy to critique my work are far better scribes than I.

As the writer of a story (or novel, screenplay, webserial, whatever) we’re far too close to the thing to be objective. We’ve invested our time, imagination and effort into creating it. We’ve extruded the guts of it from the labyrinthine depths of our subconscious and regurgitated it into being. Up to a point we can be critical of our own work. We can put the first draft away for a while to let it fester, then pull it out again and read it with fresh eyes. The longer you’ve been doing this, the better you get at spotting flaws and being honest with yourself. We can turn a first draft into a pretty decent final draft. But we’re still not objective enough and it’s not really a final draft at all.

I wrote a short story recently that I was really pleased with. I spent a while going over it, polishing it, getting it just right. I sent it out into the world. And it came back. And again. And again. The rejections stacked up. It’s cool, I’m used to that. Every writer is. We have hides that make rhino skin look like tissue paper and a solid fuck-you-attitude that keeps us working in the face of constant rejection. It’s the only way to work in this game. After all, it’s not necessarily the story – it could be the editor just doesn’t dig that vibe, or the publication ran something a bit similar recently, or the publisher’s cat swallowed a bee and she’s sore at the world and takes it out on a good story. That last one is unlikely, but anything’s possible.

But once something has been bounced a few times in a row, you can start to see the common denominator. It’s the story, schmuck. It ain’t good enough.

So I went to my friends seeking help. In this particular instance I was fortunate enough to get the Evil Drs Brain* on the case. Given that it was a dark and twisted fairy tale vibe, I asked Angela Slatter* to have a look at it for me. She read the story, liked it, but took her flensing knife to it with abandon. I got it back and sobbed quietly for a few minutes, then manned up and listened to her advice. It was good advice. She’d seen flaws I hadn’t, picked up things in the story that needed to work differently. She’d identified character inconsistencies I would never have seen.

The story was greatly improved, but it still needed something; we could both see that now. Angela sent it over to her other brain, Lisa L Hannett*. Lisa added her flensing knife to the mix and my story was further eviscerated, but she saw the things that needed fixing.

One of them was really harsh – the whole story had grown from a killer closing line. I came up with the final line, something I really wanted to use to finish, and the whole story grew out of that. Lisa pointed out that the final line didn’t work. The story had outgrown its seed of conception and that line had to go.

I wailed and raged, but I knew Lisa was right. The line was cut. I killed the fuck out that particular darling. There’s no room for pussies in this caper.

The story has just been sold to a very prestigious market and I couldn’t be happier.

The moral of the story? We need our friends. We need beta-readers, critiques, flensing knives flashing in the cold light of dawn. And we must listen to these people.

Hopefully it gets to the point where our writing is good enough that we can usually get something to a standard editors want to buy and then they do that last bit of flense and polish. A good editor will see the gem in the rough diamond and draw it out. But they don’t have time for much. It behoves us to make our work shine as brightly as it possibly can.

In essence: fresh eyes, beta readers, honest critique, listen to advice and kill your darlings. You know, the usual shit. It’s been said before, and it will be said again. But it needs to be repeated.

Say it after me:

We are not good enough.
We must try harder,
All the time.
And help our friends as they help us.
For this is the flensing,
And the power of the story,
For ever and ever.
RAmen. (Quick and easy, the snack of the starving, jobbing penmonkey.)

Now, go write.

* CAVEAT: Angela and Lisa were happy for me to mention them in this post and applaud their shining word razors, but they won’t critique your work. This particular flensing was done on the basis of friendship and collegiality, built up over time. You can, however, get your own friends on the case. Join writers’ groups and crit circles and help each other. You’ll all grow and improve together. Just get involved and know that you need help and that you can help others. Meet people, be nice, take advice. It all grows from there.

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There’s going to be loads going on, two official book launches, panels and even a chance to listen to publishers and pitch them your story idea one-on-one. That is some valuable opportunity, right there. All the details can be found here. Move fast, because places for that are limited.

In the meantime, Festival curator Kate Forsyth, asked a bunch of the attending guests just what “speculative fiction” is. The answers are excellent, and I’m reposting them here from Newsbite, the NSWWC Newsletter, which you can sign up for at the NSWWC site.

So what, exactly, is Speculative Fiction?

The dictionary defines it as a broad literary genre encompassing any fiction with supernatural, fantastical, or futuristic elements (which seems to me to cover just about all kinds of fiction).

So I thought I would ask some of the guests appearing at the festival. Since they write it, they should know what it is. Shouldn’t they?

We can only speculate.

Alan Baxter: ‘All fiction, by definition, is speculative, but “speculative fiction” as a genre encompasses all stories that refuse to be bound by what’s real, what’s known or what’s proven – they’re stories which expand beyond the mundane to very edges of our imagination and reflect us back to ourselves from every conceivable angle.’

DM Cornish: ‘Speculative fiction is the search to make the wondrous and the mythic, comprehensible and portable.’

Richard Harland: ‘Speculative Fiction is the imagination unleashed! And the imagination is mightier than the sword or the pen or anything!’

Pamela Freeman:‘Speculative fiction:
When the world doesn’t work the way scientists think it should –
When the world works the way poets and children think it should –
When the world works.’

Colin Harvey: ‘Speculative fiction is escapism for some, reality for the rest of us.’

Jack Heath: ‘Most fiction is written to make the real seem ludicrous. Speculative fiction is the art of making the ludicrous seem real.’

Margo Lanagan: ‘In a nutshell, “Speculative Fiction” is a handy term for referring to Science Fiction, Fantasy and Horror and their various leakages into each other. More personally, those words are an invitation to take my story to as strange a place as I need to go to say the things I can’t say more straightforwardly.’

Karen Miller: ‘It’s the genre that takes the brakes off our imagination.’

Belinda Murrell: ‘Speculative fiction is a genre which plays with the boundaries of the known and the possible.’

What do I think?

From the beginning of time, humans have been dreaming of impossible things – of worlds and times and creatures and circumstances beyond what is known and charted. They have looked at the vast mystery of the universe and asked, ‘What if …?’ Then they have told stories that give voice to those impossible dreams, thereby making them, perhaps, one day, possible.

So if you dream of impossible things – like being the next J.K Rowling (or George R.R. Martin, or Stephanie Meyer, or Sir Terry Pratchett, or Stephen King, or Margaret Atwood, or Frank Herbert, or Diana Gabaldon, or Neil Gaiman, or even the next George Lucas), come along to the NSW Writers Centre on Saturday, 5th November, and discover this most exciting and adventurous of literary genres.

Kate Forsyth is curating the NSW Writers’ Centre Speculative Fiction Festival on Saturday 5 November. Be there!

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The event started on the Friday evening, with a meet and greet of attending writers, editors, artists and organisers at Greystones Bar. It was great to put 3D fleshforms to Twitter personas, some of whom I’ve known online for a long time, as well as making new friends right off the bat.

The Conference itself started the following day at the Queensland State Library. Lisa Dempster (@lisadempster) opened proceedings and we were then supposed to cut to a video presentation from Christy Dena (@christydena). However, library technofail meant there were problems with the wifi. For me, a certain degree of technofail at a digital writing conference seemed somehow fitting. So we had a presentation from Morgan Jaffit (@morganjaffit) on writing for videogames.

This presentation was excellent, especially as I’m involved with some game writing now. One of the simple yet very important things Morgan said in reference to game writing was that, whereas with prose writing we’re told to “Show, not tell”, with games it’s “Do, don’t show”. In other words, let players actively participate in the story rather than showing them all the story in elegant cutscenes. Gamers remember the stuff they do in a game more than the stuff they watch. This is a Very True Thing.

Then we kicked into the first panel.

Sophie Black (@sophblack), Andrew McMillen (@niteshok), Jason Nelson and Sarah Werkmeister (@fourThousand) discussed the nature of writing online, hosted by the wonderful Alex Adsett (@alexadsett). It was interesting and varied stuff. Andrew McMillen told a tale of caution when it comes to the organic nature of online journalism and how important it is to fact-check and maintain your integrity and ethics as a writer. Jason Nelson blew us away with a variety of interactive online poetry and games that has to be seen to be believed. He’s also on the board offering grants to digital writers, and it’s worth your time investigating that as it seems very few people are applying and there’s money to be had. Real spending cash. A rare treat for any kind of writer. Sophie Black, editor of Crikey, talked about how online journalism is different to the print journalism of old, and how they source material from all over the world. Sarah Werkmeister drew interesting comparisons as well. And this is, of course, only a fraction of the stuff covered.

Following that panel was another moment of technofail (which, I should point out, was again the fault of the venue, not the conference or organisers!) and so we had an early break. Then we came back to the next panel, which included myself, Simon Groth (@simongroth), Charlotte Harper (@ebookish), and Festival director, Lisa Dempster. It was hosted by the inimitable Karen Pickering (@jevoislafemme). We were talking about using the online environment to promote your work, to get work and to work for you. I used my own website as an example of how to manage a central online hub, where people can find you and your work and contact you if they want to. Of course, it was also a moment of shameless self-promotion, with my site projected behemoth-like behind me. Here’s a photo from Amanda Greenslade (@greensladecreat):

From L to R – Karen Pickering, Lisa Dempster, Simon Groth, Charlotte Haper, and me at the lectern

The other panelists presented very interesting stuff, important to all writers – concepts like “Know your niche”, “be an expert”, “define your audience”, “don’t be a dick”, “don’t spam people”, “engage with people online, don’t preach to them” and so on. The panel and subsequent Q&A wandered all over the place and covered a lot of ground, which I won’t try to replicate here.

Suffice to say that these two 75 minute panels were jam-packed with juicy tidbits of writerly wisdom and, judging by the feedback when I was chatting with people afterwards, most attendees got a lot out of it. I certainly learned some new stuff and had some old stuff reaffirmed. The truth is, no matter how emerging or emerged you may be as a writer, these things are invaluable.

After that panel we recovered somewhat from earlier technofail and had Christy Dena’s video speech – “7 things I wish I had known at the beginning of my digital writing career”. I’ve embedded that video here as it’s fucking brilliant. Absolutely solid advice, well worth your 15 mintes:

See, how good was that?

Then we mingled and drank, often the best part of any writers’ event as people are the engine of this industry and socialising with them is invariably fascinating and entertaining.

The following day there was a talk at Avid Reader bookshop (@avidreader4101), where Karen Pickering and Chris Currie (@furioushorses) talked to writers about writing about writing. Yes, all very meta. Here they are, in the sunny courtyard out the back of the bookshop/cafe. There were periodic pigeon attacks to keep them on their toes:

It was a fascinating chat, but sadly I had to leave early to catch my flight. However, due to the frenzied tweeting throughout the entire conference, I was still able to keep a bit of an ear to what was happening. And I got to follow the excitement of the spelling bee that evening, which rounded out the Festival.

A truly spectacular event that I was proud to be a part of. Given that most of my conference activity is quite genre-focused, I always enjoy these wide open writers’ events, with everyone from journalists to fiction writers and beyond all mixing together, all styles, all media, all slightly crazy. It’s inspiring and motivating in so many ways, I can’t recommend it highly enough. If you want to be a writer or you already are one, get out there and mix with these overlapping tribes. We’ve all got our love of writing and reading in common, after all.

You’ve hopefully noticed that throughout this post I’ve been linking Twitter handles. Go and follow them all – they’re very interesting people.

If I got one over-riding thing from this conference it was that right now is an exciting and invigorating time to be a writer. I couldn’t agree more with that perception. Vive le Worditude!

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But, of course, useful though the book is, it’s not nearly as informative as my actual workshops. Not everyone can get to the workshops when they run. Incidentally, the next one will be in Melbourne next year at Continuum, which will be NatCon for 2012. But fear not, non-Melburnians! In association with the incomparable Joanna Penn, of The Creative Penn, I’m bringing my Write The Fight Right workshop online. Modern technology – it’s amazing.

How To Write Fight Scenes Masterclass

The masterclass will be 60 minutes of teaching followed by 30 mins Q&A. You will also receive the recording and slides from the class as well as an action work-list. All for only US$20.

The live session will be held on Thursday Oct 20, 2011 4:00 PM – 5:30 PM EDT (9pm GMT) but there will be a recording available with the slides if you can’t make the live session. That’s a bit early for the Aussies, because it’ll be 7am Friday morning our time, but I’m sure you’ll find it worthwhile. This is the best time placement to allow people all over the world to be involved.

Have your questions answered live

On the webinar sign up page, after payment, you are able to leave your own question for me so the session is most effective for you. We will take extra questions in the Q&A part of the session on the day.

You can also submit 1 page fight scene for me to use in my critique, to help put the class lessons into direct context. No names will be mentioned, so all writing will be anonymous and will be shared with others. Please note: This webinar will be turned into a multimedia product so by submitting your writingt you are giving permission for that piece of writing to be used as a teaching aid.

In this webinar, you will learn:

* How to shorten your sentences and use effective word choice to make a fight scene more realistic
* How to write a fight scene from different gender perspectives
* Writing reactions instead of action and how that affects the way the reader experiences the fight
* How to write about the different senses during a fight scene
* Why footwork and movement are so important in a fight
* Why fighting is responding to chaos and how you incorporate that into your book
* What types of blows would different characters use in what situations?
* How does someone with training fight and how can you make those scenes realistic?
* How does someone with no experience fight?
* How you can use your setting, or construct your setting to make a more effective fight scene
* How weapons change a fight
* When you fight, you get hit. How getting hit feels for your characters and how their need for recovery might affect your plot.

All for just $20! And if you can’t make the live session, you can purchase the recording of the seminar, along with all the notes, as a multimedia package afterwards.

I’ve set up a page specifically for the class here.

Or you can sign up now, by paying your US$20 here:

Please do tell anyone you think might be interested. And if you have any questions use the comments below.

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Crowdfunding is something that’s not really new, but something that’s gained massive traction in the internet age. Essentially it works like this: Someone comes up with an idea that needs funding. They ask “the people” if they would support said idea by pledging cash. If enough cash is pledged to pay for the idea, the people are charged and the idea goes ahead. If not enough moolah is pledged, no one is charged and the idea sinks like a lead turd, never to be spoken of again.

It’s not unlike general arts funding, except everyday folk are approached for the cash. And the internet makes it especially easy with sites like Kickstarter and Pozible streamlining the whole process. People pledging money tend to get something out of it too. They can chip in a small amount just for the warm feelings of contributing to something worthwhile, or they can pledge more and get something tangible if the idea goes ahead. For example, if it’s an event being crowdfunded a pledge of a certain amount could include a ticket to the event. A higher pledge might include a VIP pass. Higher still and you get a VIP pass and a t-shirt. And so on. There are all kinds of incentives. And it’s becoming de rigeur for arts funding. Which is, on the one hand, great – it helps to get arts things funded. On the other hand, it’s fucked – arts things should be government funded anyway, but the sad reality is that they’re not. And they get funded less and less all the time. But I’m going to avoid a political tirade here and just talk about the concept of crowdfunding.

My first direct experience of it was with a Kickstarter project where film-maker Christopher Salmon was asking for funds to make a short film of Neil Gaiman’s short story, The Price. For a fully-realised animated feature he needed $150,000 of funding. Neil Gaiman himself endorsed the idea (which is how I heard about it via Twitter) and the thing went viral. The funding has hit $161,774 and the short film is being made. I kicked in and my contribution will result in me receiving a DVD of the film when it’s made. The Price is one of my favourite Gaiman shorts, so I’m dead chuffed about that.

I’m now directly involved in another crowdfunded project. The Emerging Writers Festival wants to run a digital publishing event up in Brisbane and they asked me to be involved with one of the panels. I was happy to oblige, but the whole thing can only go ahead if it gets funding from the people, as the government are so tight they eat coal and shit diamonds. The project has hit its goal. Sweet – I’m going to Brisbane. Here it is.

These are examples of great ideas becoming real because the people behind the ideas asked the public if they would be interested, and the public responded by making it happen. Kinda awesome, no?

But it’s gone beyond that. I’ve noticed several “name” authors using Kickstarter or something similar to finance a new novel. They’re completely skipping the publisher and using ebook and Print On Demand technology, essentially self-publishing so they don’t need a publisher. But, and this is important, they’re recognising the need for professionals in editing, proofing, layout, cover design and so on. All of which costs money. Plus, they want to be paid for their efforts. I know! Authors expecting to be paid! Are they mad? Yes – mad as a hessian sack full of Hatters in Wonderland. But then again, we all know writers are mad. We wouldn’t be writers if we weren’t stark raving bonkers. So these authors have asked the fans to kick in if they want to see the book.

This is truly the most democratic path to publishing you can imagine, as only those people who want to read the book will contribute. Therefore, if the total requested is raised, the book will happen. (If only trad publishers had anything like that assurance when putting out a new book.)

However, and here’s the real rub, those authors need a fan base in the first place. I’m quite okay with self-publishing and indie publishing, as regular readers here well know. I’ve had a varied path to publication myself and have dabbled like a mischievous sorcerer in a variety of methods. Any path that leads where you’re going is the right path.

Yet I know that some newbies in the writing game – and other areas of the arts for that matter – see crowdfunding as a way to get a start without having to work so hard. The trouble is, someone with no real following, without any proven track record or an existing fan base, will have a hell of a job getting any cash at all through a crowdfunded project. Like those self-publishers really nailing the market, especially with ebooks, who are actually trading on their past publishing success, only established artists are likely to get any crowdfunded money. The Amanda Hockings of this world are most certainly the exceptions not the rules, as I discussed at length here. People trying to start out will still be struggling along like tiny minnows against the flooding tide of existing artists.

Of course, you’re always going to get those who buck the trends and emerge out of obscurity like a lucky butterfly made of cash, but they’re going to be very rare. I guess it’s fair in some ways – we all need to work hard to get successful. I think there’s something fundamentally damaging about success that comes too easily. Then again, I work like a son-of-a-bitch and success is a slow burn for me. So maybe I’m just bitter. But people expecting a handout without proving themselves are unlikely to get one, and that’s where this is different from panhandling. After all, it’s far easier to ignore a beggar on the internet who wants you to fund their desire to write than it is to ignore someone on the street who’s really doing it tough and simply trying to eat. The truly destitute in society need our compassion and assistance. Would-be writers crying out online, pleading with people to pay their rent and grocery bills while they try to make a go of writing, do not. They need to do something to earn our attention, then maybe we’d be more inclined to throw a few shekels their way and see if they can climb a rung or two of the ladder.

It sounds harsh and I don’t want to be accused of ignoring the struggle of emerging talent, or stepping on people trying to get a start in this game. Thor knows, I’ve struggled hard enough myself, and still do. But I’ve mentioned it before, determination and hard bloody work are as important as talent in this game. If you can wrangle a few bucks out of people without proving yourself first, more power to you. I wish anyone trying it the best of luck. But don’t get shitty when you post a Kickstarter saying you want five grand to try to finish your first novel and get pretty much sweet fuck all. We’d all have loved five grand to finish our first novels, but none of us got it and we went ahead and did the work anyway. Of course, a few people do get actual arts grants for this stuff but, like the established writers making a go of crowdfunding their next books, those arts grant recipients had some history to prove themselves worthy of receiving said grant.

So I guess my opinion really is this – I see the whole new trend in crowdfunding to be an extremely exciting thing. Let the voice of the people be heard. It’s a great way to finance things which might otherwise slip under the radar and never happen. But I don’t think it’s a way for unknown names – in any field of endeavour – to suddenly circumvent that harsh crucible of slaving away at their art like a motherfucker while also scraping a living, engaging personal relationships and generally being a human person. Which is a shame, but I guess these things aren’t easy for a reason. I compare it often to my life as a martial artist, and like I often tell my students, “Kung Fu is seriously hard work. After all, if it was easy, everyone would do it.”

I’m certainly interested in your comments on the subject, so do chime in below.

And maybe I’ll see you in Brisbane!

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Perhaps I’ve had too much coffee today.

Chuck Wendig is a “novelist, screenwriter and freelance penmonkey”. Here’s his bio:

Chuck Wendig is equal parts novelist, screenwriter, and game designer. He currently lives in the wilds of Pennsyltucky with wife, dog, and newborn progeny. His “vampire in zombieland” novel, DOUBLE DEAD, releases in November, 2011, and he just signed a two-book deal for BLACKBIRDS and MOCKINGBIRD with Angry Robot Books. He has two e-books available: a book of profane writing advice (CONFESSIONS OF A FREELANCE PENMONKEY) and a short story collection (IRREGULAR CREATURES).

“So what do I care?” you’re asking. He’s just making you jealous with his success. Well, that’s why you should read his blog and his books. He’s the hardest working motherfucker in writing, as far as I can tell. The man’s output is astounding. And he gives so much of it away.

I’ve got his ebook, Confessions Of A Freelance Penmonkey, and it’s brilliant. Packed full of juicy tips for writers like a teenage boy’s wastepaper basket is packed full of tissues, only marginally less disgusting. But you don’t even have to buy his books to get his sage advice. He tells it like it is, which is another reason I’m so enamoured of the man. You know me, I don’t like a pussyfooter.

He blogs at his site, Terrible Minds, and is famed far and wide for his 25 Things… lists. Here are a few of my favourite recent postings:

25 Ways To Plot, Plan and Prep Your Story

25 Things You Should Know About Queries, Synopses, Treatments

Twenty-Sided Troubadours: Why Writers Should Play Roleplaying Games

Okay, that last one isn’t a 25 Things… list. Sue me. Actually, don’t – I’m a starving writer and all you’d win in a lawsuit is some suspiciously stained old clothing. And no one wants that.

Yeah, I can hear the grinding of your grudging agreement from here. This bloke knows his shit inside out (don’t think too hard on that expression) and he’s willing to share it (or that). Get yourself over to Terrible Minds and share in the good stuff. Every writer owes it to themselves. I’ve got loads of good stuff out of Chuck and you should too, before the man is a hollowed-out husk, rasping in a gutter somewhere, sucked dry by his own generosity.

Go. Now. Become better.

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Here are the new covers:

Pretty freaking sweet, I reckon.

Click on the images below if you want to see higher res versions of the full wraparound covers that will now grace the print editions of the books.

What do you think? I’m very interested to hear what people think of the new art, so even if you don’t like it, please leave a comment and tell me why. Amazon are being a pain and not updating the pages for the print editions, even though the Kindle editions, Books In Print and every other fucker on the planet has updated the images. But I’m sure they’ll get there in the end. Gryphonwood are on the case.

The other news that has me Snoopy dancing around the place is that Gryphonwood have negotiated audio rights to both books, and the audiobook edition of both will be available soon. RealmShift is slated to be ready in time for Xmas, with MageSign close behind. This is awesome news, as it marks a new stage in the life of these stories. And these are stories which really mean a lot to me.

The audiobooks will be read by Matt “Bentley” Allegre, a well versed voice actor who has done narration, character voices and impressions for radio, video and websites for the last ten years. I’ve heard samples and the opening pages of chapter one and I’m very excited. This guy has a great voice, with a really dark edge that suits the books perfectly. He’s American, which may bother my Australian and UK readers, but we’re all used to American accents anyway, right? It’s also worth remembering that Gryphonwood are an American publisher and the big market for books in any format is really the US. Regardless, Matt has a brilliant voice that suits the books perfectly. I can’t wait to hear the finished products.

So that’s my news, and I’m right bloody chuffed about it. I’ll let you know when the audiobooks are available.

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Part the first is here.

Part the second is here.

Enjoy and share!

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