CM Simpson: Writer & Gamer

So, some dude at Huffington Post believes that pieces written for free are more authentic than those written for money - and so he is very proud that Huffington Post does not pay its writers . Needless to say, this has created a bit of a furor from a whole stack of writers... but it's something that's been going on for a while, now - this whole not-paying or not-paying-a-fair-rate to writers, so all I can say is it's about time. Mind you, this attitide isn't confined to the editor-in-chief - yes, that was the 'some dude' - it's also held by at least one staffer holding a salaried position, who believes that writing for free means that, as a writer, you don't have daily hours, deadlines, or need to work on weekends and that the 'exposure' is worth doing something for nothing. Both these guys delicately avoid the point that they make money off the content they provide, including any content they seek to be allowed to use from other bloggers...

Before university started, I finished reading two novels. I’m currently reading a collection of short stories by Bruce Stirling, but I’m not sure I’ll get through it before the month is out. I’ll update this post if I do, otherwise look for it next month. In the meantime, I read my first Chuck Wendig, and my not-so-first Matthew Reilly.  

As with the books read this month, I didn't get to read a lot of bloggery. Here are the few I got to: http://terribleminds.com/ramble/2014/08/18/polling-your-intestinal-flora-how-a-writer-cultivates-instinct/ http://terribleminds.com/ramble/2014/08/17/progress-report-penmonkeys/ http://terribleminds.com/ramble/2014/08/15/flash-fiction-challenge-color-title-challenge/ http://terribleminds.com/ramble/2014/08/09/in-which-amazon-calls-you-to-defend-the-realm/ You might notice a theme here, but, hey, there are some days when I just need to be challenged, or to gather courage, and this is one of the first places I go.

Terribleminds Flash Fiction Challenge Response: The Invisible Bookshop Very excited to be able to take part in the first terribleminds flash fiction challenge of the year. Written on January 13, 2014, for the terribleminds flash fiction challenge due midday, January 17, 2014, this piece explores more of my Otherworld setting. I’m beginning to think, this setting and the pixie-dust setting might be one and the same. I’ll write some more to work it out. We had to randomly roll two words, which made up our title, and then we had 1,000 words in which to write a story. This piece is exactly 1,000 words long. The invisible bookshop stood on the corner of Pattinson and Lane. It was not a secretive place, tucked away in an alley or down a side-street. It stood proudly where all could see—or where all would be able to see, if the shop itself was visible. Most of the time, it looked like a big, blank corner of wall, with no windows and no door. I loved the place. As if ...

And here is the result of this week's terribleminds' flash fiction challenge - the first line is from David Novack's entry to last week's challenge . Enjoy!   The Dinabranki in Defeat “Well,” Jimmy muttered, “it was clearly a mistake picking this room to piss in.” He’d give them this: they hadn’t taken the safeties off until he’d closed the door behind him—and then a volley of clicks had clattered around the room. Add the sudden presence of a large, square barrel pressed against his skull, and Jimmy had very nearly wet himself. It was clearly a mistake to have come in here at all, but Jimmy hadn’t been planning on pissing when he’d tickled the lock and slipped quickly inside. Jimmy had been planning on finding out exactly what the dinabranki were hiding behind their corporate front, what interest they had on a colony world so distant from their own. He looked over his shoulder, saw old-fashioned side arms, and well-armoured soldiers, and slowly turned....

Last week's flash fiction challenge over at the terribleminds blog was to write a 15-words-or-less opening line. I missed that by making the mistake of putting it off until later. My bad. This week, however, the challenge is to select one of the 15-words-or-less opening lines and write a 1,000-word-or-less piece of flash fiction. Now don't getting all excited on me; I haven't finished it yet... actually, I haven't started it BUT I have, at last selected an opening line. Of the five pages worth of opening lines, there were a few that were clearly over the limit, and a number that didn't grab my creative conscious by what passes for its throat... and there were a number of opening lines that missed the throat but caught my attention. My first pass brought the number of lines down to 20 written by: Arwa Stone , mikepaul , Jera , Tony Taylor , Kevin George , Alecia Millar , thatcalamity , Jess , jebdarsh , JD , Julia , Brennan , Gabe K , feralbulb , Sean Tadsen ...

This week's flash fiction challenge over at Chuck Wendig's Terribleminds Blog is to show the first day's writing for NaNoWriMo. I can't join in because I'm not NaNoing this year, due to a bunch of other commitments, but there are a bunch of folk who are. If you'd like to check them out, head on over to Flash Fiction Challenge 1,667 . You might also like to check out the finalists and winners of the Horror in Three Sentences challenge from a few weeks' back. You can find that at Horror in Three Sentences: My Faves and the Winners. Enjoy!

The Possibility of Peace The Wendig Terribleminds Challenge this week was to mix two randomly-rolled sub-genres into one tale of 1,000 words and submit it by November 1st, 2013. My two sub-genres were: Space Opera and Psychological Horror, so I went and visited the universe of one of my novels in progress. Not sure how I went, but here’s what came out. The world burned, the dimension subject to an unholy conflagration that sent plant life into riot and forced its creatures to take on heat-resistant forms that glided slick and smooth through shadows, or skittered in blatant adoration of the sweltering conditions. I was glad I’d brought the ice, gladder that my suit was already compensating. This was not the ideal place for a rendezvous. Shadows floated at the corner of my eyes, mankind’s equivalent materialising from pathways leading into the clearing, their forms glistening as though slick with sweat. Perhaps, they were. “You had something to say.” It’s not much o...