Sunday, April 27, 2025

Feudal

This weekend found us back at the manor engaged in the battle with the green horde threatening the estate. After major battles with the assailants of both the chemical and mechanical nature, I found time for two other battles with one of Les Freres Corses

Before I address those difficult conflicts, I need to engage in some thoughts of a vain, presumptuous, and solipsistic nature. Raconteur Press posted a piece on its Substack page entitled "On Witty Dialogue Choices for Writing Noir and Hard Boiled Characters." Naturally, having had a story accepted for publication in the upcoming moggie noir anthology, Dames, Derringers, and Detectives, I had to consider the possibility, based on this line from the post ("I’m thrilled to say that at least one of the new Moggie Noir stories features a bit of wordplay that takes me back to classic exchanges..."), that my story entitled "Calypso's Count" might have inspired the post. Odds are pretty good that some other brilliant writer (of which there is no shortage at RP) penned some excellent dialogue that motivated the posting of the article. However, I won't let that likely fact dissuade me from presuming that it was my story and dialogue the article writer had in mind. 

By what right do I wedge myself into the position of praise? None, really. However, I do have reasons, if not a right. I remember doing some particular wordplay in the story--so I've got that going for my presumption. Additionally, the main characters are featured in my book Smoke, as well as the first short story I submitted to RP, "Monica on My Mind." The detective and his attractive assistant routinely engage in some pleasant badinage as part of their interaction and discussion about their cases. Finally, a couple readers have previously informed me that they loved the "witty banter" featured in these detective stories. That's the sum total of my reasoning--except for the additional fact that there's a lot of dialogue in the story; I'm hoping that at least some of it is memorable in a good way. Of course, once I read the anthology, it may become obvious that it was another gifted wordsmith who drafted the dazzling dialogue (and they no doubt avoided things like that alliterative affectation I just slipped in) and I'll have to bow my head in contrition--but until then, I'm shouting my presumption like a bevy of celebrity dames boasting about their ten minutes in space.

Back to our regularly scheduled programming.

Le Frere Corse and I were handicapped by the other brother's illness, so we had to postpone completing the rumble at the cursed ruins. We consoled ourselves with a battle across the checkered field by armies of black and white. White made a determined attack that kept black trading pieces while seeking for an advantage. Eventually, the advantage came and the white king found himself trapped behind his own guards at the mercy of a renegade rook and a patient bishop. 

On the following evening, the illness persisted, so we pulled out the more elaborate version of the game from the night before. My old Feudal game--acquired circa 1979--provided our evening entertainment. The checkered field became a grid of holes in a countryside of white and green with armies of white and blue. Once again, white got first move. Our initial setup was hidden and we didn't know who would get the first move. I was glad I had taken defensive positions behind mountains.

He made a cautious advance. I responded by killing one of his pikemen with a sergeant. He retaliated by slaughtering the lone enemy piece in his territory. He continued to press forward with caution, but threatened my castle with an advance on his right.

We had a few skirmishes, reducing each other forces in the process, while I prepared to take the fight into his territory. I finally advanced a sergeant deep into his backfield. While he was distracted with that, I ran cavalry up the flanks to threaten his castle from the rear while advancing infantry toward the castle's side entrance. The pocket collapsed around him. He pulled back to defend his fortress, but I had enough men converging on the goal to prevent his white warriors from intervening in the assault.

He attacked everywhere and casualties left the field faster than a jet bound for El Salvador. The effort was in vain. His king slew the initial attacker, but then fell to the blue prince's lance. It was a hard-fought battle worth every plastic corpse it cost.


 

 

 

Sunday, April 20, 2025

Thomas Kast

 Interview with Thomas Kast

Author of

The Great Convergence

 


Please tell me a little about your current work in progress.

My debut novel, the Great Convergence, was published a couple of months ago. It’s a thought-provoking philosophical science fiction and a social satire. Two competing academics living ten million years in the future travel back in time to 2022, wrecking reality in the course of their investigation into a mysterious event — the Great Convergence.

Currently, I’m working on the humorous and philosophical comic book series Bablah’s Odyssey, which is scheduled for release in August 2022. Bablah’s Odyssey features a mad scientist, lord Bablah as he traverses the universe, mansplaining the ‘wonders of progress and civilisation’ to his unassertive yet perceptive mutant sidekick, the Pet-Thing. It’s colourful, psychedelic and contains a lot of irony and dark humour. I’m both a writer and illustrator.

Where did you get the idea for this book or series?

I wanted to create a book that can be enjoyed, read and re-read and could give the reader a memorable experience. I’ve noticed that most contemporary sci-fi often ventures into the strictly commercial territory. Not entirely happy with this trend, I wanted to use science fiction as a vehicle to highlight many social and philosophical problems, but with a healthy dose of humour.

There are several recurring themes in my book, which result from observing and analysing the world around me. One of those inspirations would be stupidity. It’s a subject that has always fascinated me. All of my characters make inexplicably unwise and shortsighted decisions despite being exceptionally smart (some of them). Superheroes are great but, often being no more than mere archetypes, they often lack humanity. It’s the crazy ones who provide all the fun.

Do you write in more than one genre?

I don’t write genre fiction. Even though the Great Convergence contains alternate realities, time travel and depictions of the world ten million years from now, it’s a simple story about a couple of characters lost in a world they neither fit into nor understand. There’s a lot of satire to be found in my book. But also philosophy, humour and social critique.

Tell me about something that you believe makes your writing unique or worthy of attention.

I’m proud of the nameless narrator and his biased voice as he relates the story. He’s a failed researcher stuck at a dead-end university position. Unable to move on, he pigheadedly investigates a once-fashionable subject no one is interested in.

Sometimes, he tells the truth, sometimes he lies, and in most cases, he misrepresents his account only to get his point across. Seeing the world through the narrator’s eyes, the readers must discover what happened themselves. Unreliable as the narrator is, his observations are full of dry humour, and the constant feeling of being stuck in a place one doesn’t belong to is probably something many can relate to. 


Is there anything about your personal history or personality that manifests strongly in your writing?

I’ve been diagnosed with Autism spectrum disorder (Asperger’s syndrome as it used to be known). This means that, on the one hand, the intricacies of social interaction remain a total mystery to me. On the other hand, thanks to having way-too-many brain connections, I’m uniquely predisposed to quickly examine the world around me in a very pragmatic and unemotional way and see things others can’t. I’ve been an outsider most of my life (which I don’t regret), and so are my characters.

Resulting from my condition is another recurring theme in my book — miscommunication. My characters are all stuck in uncomfortable situations. Constantly missing the point, they don’t understand each other’s motives, and they’re unable put themselves in someone else’s shoes. They oscillate between being inordinately overconfident or hopelessly insecure but can never think on two feet. Above and beyond, they’re blinded by their personal goals they consider of great consequence and which are insignificant and trivial. As irony would have it, they all have a profoundly important part to play on the universe’s stage — something they’re never to discover.

What else would be helpful for readers to know about you?

I’m an award-winning independent photojournalist and illustrator and have published a number of photography art books. I’ve spent a big part of my life in Israel, where I taught photography and illustration at the Shenkar College of Engineering and Design and other Israeli colleges. To find out about my illustration and photography projects, you may head to www.thomaskast.com.

Excluding your own work, what underrated author or book would you recommend that more people read? Why?

Stanislaw Lem and his novel: Eden. A group of astronauts from Earth crash on a distant planet, where they discover a highly-developed yet mysterious civilisation. Despite making contact, it turns out that despite their advancement, both civilisations are ultimately too different to offer anything one another. Eden makes the reader come face to face with extraterrestrial intelligence as something incomprehensibly unlike anything we imagine it would be like. Which probably is close to the truth.

Which of your books do you most highly recommend? Why?

Apart from the comic book series coming out in August, there’s only one I could recommend at the moment — the Great Convergence. It took me about ten years to complete until I was happy enough with it to release it into the wild. It went through several editors and iterations. It’s weird, it’s funny, it’s sometimes profound and sometimes absurd.

10.000.002 A.D. A cantankerous scholar slipping into obscurity is out for revenge. He time-travels to the year 2022 to stop his nemesis, Scott — a successful scientist at a competing university — from thwarting his research into the origin of a mysterious phenomenon, the Great Convergence. Cunning and ruthless, Scott will stop at nothing to defend his tenure track. The feud quickly spins out of control, and the damage to reality grows unchecked.

Caught in the crosshairs are three characters responsible for triggering the Great Convergence: an art-hating professional art critic who, unbeknownst to him, spontaneously switches between universes wreaking havoc as he goes; a talentless artist whose sculptures act as trans-universal portals; and a schizophrenic astrophysicist trying to avert the invasion of alternate versions of himself from different realities. As their paths converge, the apocalyptic event takes place, and the inescapable tragedy of human existence unfolds. 


Which break, event, decision, or fortuitous circumstance has helped you or your writing career the most?

I can’t recall a specific circumstance that has pushed me towards writing. I always had it in me. The only thing I didn’t have was the time. I still don’t have time, the only difference being that now I make time ;)

What question do you wish you would get asked more often?

I wish there were questions about the distant future. Although large parts of the plot take place in 2022, we also experience the world 10.000.000 years in the future through the narrator’s flashbacks. Since my book is a satire, I created the future as the ’50s, only with everything turned up to 11, especially the world of the academia, run as a for-profit corporation, where science and progress are just side-effects of a cut-throat fight for personal advancement and prestige.

There’s a lab where the scientists grow universes to experiment upon. There’s an old, baroque-like fountain spewing streams of time instead of water in the university’s courtyard. There is a site with portals connecting different universes, much like the Four Corners Monument in the US. It’s frequented by tourists taking selfies with a hand in one universe and a leg in another. Everybody keeps a time machine in a garage. For the more curious readers, I relate the history of time travel in one of the appendixes.

A quick disclaimer: most of the action doesn’t take place in university halls of academia.


Do you have a catchphrase or quote that you like? What is it? And why do you choose it?

I don’t, but my characters do. For instance, Geoffrey, a failed artist, constantly repeats ‘Glory to the lizard!’ The ‘glorious lizard is a lizard-shaped gargoyle sculpture at the top of a St. Laurence University of the Arts main tower, where he studies sculpture. According to the local folk tale, the Glorious Lizard housed the heart of Albertus Ambrosianus, a thirteenth-century alchemist who attained the secret of everlasting life through the mastery of dark arts. Geoffrey’s catchphrase represents his obsession with achieving artistic immortality.

Another catchphrase by Larry, a disillusioned art critic: ‘I am the captain of the ship …’ reassures him that he’s in control of his life, which, of course, he isn’t.

There are a few more catchphrases, and all have a similar function — to tell something about the character and make their personality recognisable and memorable.

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Thanks to Thomas for participating.

Great news: I signed a contract for another short story yesterday. That means I've two stories coming out in two separate Raconteur Press Anthologies next month. I'll post links when I get them.

Note: Smoke is on sale for a limited time.

Fire and Inferno: Plight of the Dragomancer Book I, by Luna Fox -- now only 99 cents.

Here's a link to the Wyrd Warfare Anthology that contains my story "Seventh Hussar and Aide to the Mage."

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Check out these great deals available for a few more days:

Free Fantasy and Paranormal ebooks

Discounted Dangerous Dames and Deadly Detectives

Free Fantasy Frenzy of various genres



Sunday, April 13, 2025

Willow

 


We had a re-watch of Willow (1988, Directed by Ron Howard, staring Warwick Davis, Val Kilmer, Joanne Whalley, Jean Marsh, and others, including Billy Barty) last week. The movie has some weaknesses but it has a certain charm, its writer (George Lucas) borrowing from his Star Wars trilogy and blending in Arthurian and Tolkien elements.

In short, the story begins with a baby cast upon the waters and being discovered by some folks who are definitely not hobbits. I forget what they called themselves, but everyone else referred to them derogatorily as pecks. Willow's wife takes the child and that eventually brings bad tidings for the village, where Billy Barty is the resident magic man and from whom Willow seeks an apprenticeship.


  Willow is tasked with taking the baby to the crossroads to hand off to the first person he finds. 

As good or bad fortune would have it, Madmartigan is caged at the crossroads and takes the baby in return for his release from the cage. He's an obvious scoundrel and rumored to be a great swordsman. In desperation, Willow releases him and he takes the baby - only, of course, to lose her shortly thereafter. The vile Queen Bavmorda, a sorceress, needs this chosen child for some nefarious ritual and also to prevent her from overthrowing her.

Willow ends up with a wand and has to find another sorceress. He finds her and must use the wand to transform her back into human form. Several attempts at the task result in unsatisfactory results. They get the child back and join with Madmartigan along the way.

Captain Leroy of the South Essex Airk (Gavan O'Herlihy) also features in the heroic group that eventually has a big fight led by the queen's heavy-handed henchman. I forget his name. I call him Monkey Face Vader.


Trolls and a two-headed monster inadvertently created by Willow and his wand figure into the Fracas in the fortress. Not least among the evil queen's leaders is Sorsha.

She's not just girl power eye candy; she's the evil queen's daughter. However, it turns out that they're not very close, and she and Madmartigan work through some differences in time for the award ceremony at the close of the movie.

Needless to say, but I'll say it anyway, there's a big final battle at Bavmorda's totally wicked pad and the heroes are in danger of being served at a huge luau, but some good magic prevails. The fight moves into Bavmorda's flat of iniquity. She has captured the chosen child and begins her unholy ritual. Willow and the good sorceress must save the day and, when all seems lost, Willow's own magical prowess must save the infant from sacrifice. 

Hanmartigan gets the princess and the young Peck-Jedi realizes his powers.

How would I rate this movie? The main weakness is the script. The story seemed a little off and the dialogue was often flat. However, the director and the actors save the piece from falling into the pit of 80s sword and sorcery drek. I give it 6.5 out of 10 monkey skulls.


 

 

 



Sunday, April 6, 2025

Napoleon at Jaffa

 


Fun Fact:

After subjugating Egypt, Napoleon led his small army toward Syria in February of 1799. The army of 13,000 was divided into four divisions under Generals Kleber, Reynier, Bon, and Lannes. The latter would go eventually become a Marshal of the Epire and die in 1809 following the battle of Aspern-Essling in which he was struck by a cannonball and had a leg amputated. 

Bonaparte wanted to take the port of Acre, but the British navy, the formidable walls, the defenders' stout resistance, and the plague all worked to prevent Bonaparte's success. Before he got to Acre, he first overcame resistance at El Arish and Jaffa. The garrison at El Arish, which had surrendered and sworn not to take up arms against the French, went and joined the Jaffa garrison.

Bonaparte had lost two valuable weeks in the siege of El Arish, and had to get back to Egypt to contest an expended landing by Ottoman forces. He hoped to make up time with a quick conquest of Jaffa. Plague was already working on his army.

Near the walls of Jaffa, Napoleon had near brushes with death from an artillery shell and a sniper's bullet that went through his hat. He had an officer and trumpeter approach and enter the city with a letter advising the commander that the garrison and city would be protected if they surrendered, otherwise shelling would begin the next morning.

A short time later, the heads of the officer and trumpeter appeared on spears raised above the city gate, and the bodies were thrown from the walls. Things were not getting off to a promising start at Jaffa.

Bonaparte used the terrain and tree cover to push his artillery within 150 yards of the walls. The shelling began as promised on March 4, 1799. The Jaffa garrison made a series of attacks against the besiegers, but they were not sufficient to break the siege.

During the afternoon of March 7, the French stormed the walls. Although the castle was taken by 8 pm, house to house fighting continued until it became a massacre as the French killed everyone where any resistance was offered until it became a murderous frenzy mixed with robbery and plunder.

Resistance continued in fortified buildings and mosques. These finally offered to surrender in exchange for their lives, to which the French leaders on the scenes agreed. Many of these prisoners were sent away to other cities, and the Egyptians among them were released to Egypt.

Bonaparte lacked sufficient food for his own army and couldn't provide for the prisoners. He couldn't trust them to be released on oath as many of them had already violated the oath they had taken on their surrender and release at El Arish. The war council met and considered the problem, ruling out sending them all to Egypt under armed escort as the already weakened army could not spare the troops for such an escort. The war council released all noncombatants and ordered the execution of the garrison. Some 2,000 - 3,000 prisoners were marched into the desert, divided into small groups, and shot.

Meanwhile, the plague was spreading among the French. Four to five soldiers were dying each day from the disease. Morale was failing. Napoleon took a tour of the hospital, visiting the infected, shaking their hands, telling them what they had was not the plague. Many of them recovered, and some of the doctors who had abandoned the patients returned.

The walls of Acre, coupled with the other problems for Napoleon, resisted the French efforts, and Napoleon returned to Egypt. Eventually, he slipped away to France with some of his officers, leaving Kleber in charge. General Kleber was later killed by an assassin.

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If you're interested in Napoleonic or other warfare, check out the Wyrd Warfare Anthology featuring my story "Seventh Hussar and Aide to the Mage."

If noir rather than wyrd is your preferred literary cocktail, another story, "Calypso's Count" was also just accepted for publication in the Moggie Noir: Dames, Derringers, and Detectives Anthology. Look for it on May 2. I'll post that cover when it becomes available. In the meantime, you could read "Monica on my Mind" in Pinup Noir 2

or "A Stardust Memory" featured in Sultry Murder Jazz.

 

If you would rather have my full length noir novel Smoke, it's on sale now.


 Links to my books can be found across the top of this page - and descriptions and links to all my books and short story anthologies are here.