The Big Second Book Summary And Giveaway!

So here we are, I have actually managed to make a second book in my life and my first fiction. That it's an official novelisation of a pretty beloved cult film is just a hell of a bonus!

But what's it about?

There are a few intertwining narratives, some of which would be spoiler-heavy so here are the two main ones:

Detective Rick Wilson is a suspended cop spiralling down into the depths of depression and drug addiction, both a cause and effect of his suspension, but is  begrudgingly brought the opportunity for his name to be whitewashed and badge reinstated if he can track down a serial killer before the night is through. This serial killer, labelled The Scalper for his fixation of scalping his victims, has been picking off the ladies of the night for a while but now he has upped his game and stirring up a media frenzy in the process.

Meanwhile a pimp, Martin, has been suffering insomnia brought about by the hazy dreams of how the Scalper took his sister's life, mistaking her for one of his mistresses. Her death has hung over his head and his conscience ever since, and he has to get out of the game, all the while doing his best to not let his own girls suffer in the process. But getting out is never easy.


So the tone is very much a sleazy detective thriller very much akin to the 80s style, and was really fun to write for. Having read through my own copy without my editing cap on and simply as a reader, I can say I am definitely proud of the quality of the writing and possibly set it as a gold standard to maintain in any future endevours.


Is it connected to my work with #GetYourBellyOut and CCUK at all?

Not directly no. There are of course references in the book to such conditions as it is such a huge part of my life right now, but certainly more references and titbits rather than anything quite as indepth as From The Inside Out. However that is not to say I am completely disassociating myself with it; as well as thank you donations to the group for having made this possible, the hopes is that this book's success will allow for greater distribution of Inside and help get a bigger publisher interested for a next one.


How can I get it?

Midnight Heat can be found on Amazons across the world for £6.99 in UK, $9.99 US and similar prices in all other countries. However there is also one other way...


The Free Giveaway!! 

Thanks to the website goodreads.com my book is currently up for a giveaway of a free copy of my book. And all you have to do is follow the link and click enter to win and you'll .... be entered to win. If you don't have an account it is easy to setup just using your facebook as verification and takes less than a minute!  The giveaway is here 


So that's the sum of it all really. A big thank you to everyone who has helped get me this far and shown such amazing support over this year, and hopefully I can continue to live the dream and do my bit for a group that means so much!

New Book & Future Plans

With the release of my second book fast approaching now, it feels only fair to give a little update to the situation, and any plans for the future.

So first up; Midnight Heat.

Midnight Heat is an official novelisation of a cult American independent film of the same name by creator Brad Jones of "The Cinema Snob" fame, and revolves around one sleazy night in 1989 where a coked-out cop is on the trail of notorious serial killer The Scalper who targets prostitutes, whilst at the same time a pimp is fighting his own way out of the business before it kills him.

Writing this has been a great deal of fun, even if on some days I wanted to give up - inspiration seemed to come on many days when I was too far from the source material to make any use of it, and when I had all the time and materials at use I had no muse. But although this already features the vision of another, I still had fun running with these characters and trying to see what I could discover about them that may not otherwise be told in the constraints of the film without ruining the vision of the creator. Looking through there are a few standout moments I am proud of and so look forward to how it is received.
Midnight Heat is currently undergoing the finishing details ready for official publication shortly.

The next plan is for From The Inside Out, my first book which was released September 2014. The plan for this is a slight reformatting and minor grammatical changes and cosmetics (aswell as a foreword to offer a greater summary of it and any jargon in it that may be lost to those not already familiar with it all, as an oversight of my own when first creating it) This will be accompanied with flyers to be created and left in waiting rooms of appropriate wards of hospitals, and possibly for some charity events if possible, and finally setting up a distribution deal with Waterstones.

From then there are a couple of little pet projects I want to develop, more directly linked to helping raise awareness of CCUK in any way I can, as well as a couple of fiction ideas I've had mulling around - one thriller and the other young adult science fantasy in the vain of a Doctor Who or Hitchiker's Guide. But obviously a break will be needed before pursuing any of these with any great determination, but does not mean either shall be ignored completely, seem to perpetually be working on little lines or asides for something or other and it's just finding the projects to fit them.

In a minor segue of news the #GetYourBellyOut group celebrated its first birthday this past week and it was with great pain that I could nto be a part of it, so a greater effort will also be made to rectify this with how much support they have offered both with the book and in life in general.

A Little Bit Of Everything

"I think that I am familiar with the fact that you are going to ignore this particular problem until it swims up and bites you on the ass!" 

Some days the previous incarnation of you comes back. Maybe an off remark you made to someone which has now snowballed and changed their entire outlook on life.Maybe a stalker with a new caller ID but the same wild delusions and assertions you once mistakenly allowed. Maybe a shitty mistake you made that helped spurr you to change and become who you are today. 

And maybe some days, it's just all of the above.

This past couple weeks, I've had every wood-work crawler find its way back to me and been left with quite a lot of thinking about who I am as a person. Results are decidedly inconclusive, but I sure feel Jeremy Kyle wouldn't approve.

So I've been revelling alot in past mistakes and the dozen or so ways I could have handled situations and if I would change them. Or indeed myself. This then doubled at the return of a couple of people in my life I had thought I'd sealed out quite successfully - an engaged couple who had tried to seduce me into a threesome and took no as a hearty challenge. And straight as a little bit curious. All this has done is heighten the current plague of the singles I've been suffering; a handful of perfect people who could take me to heaven (or at least a far more interesting equivelant) and logistics just get in the way.
If there's hope, then my mind seems set on hunting it down to no end.

And if there isn't hope, then I'm just left to dwell on why that is. 2015 is to be the year of focusing on making myself a more appealing partner to consider, and that has in more recent weeks taken to be looked at as a years worth of faults that need to be 'corrected'. And what would remain if I did? Would I be the person I'm comfortable enough with to leave a quick snappy comment with enough bite for a gasp but enough wit for a laugh to overthrow it, who also manages to seem quite set on poverty through over abdundance of charity. Indeed I haven't even kept a share of profits for the book in quite some months.

And then of course there was the big one. THAT one. The triple threat of having my face burn off a couple of layers of skin through some freak skin cream accident, followed by information that my rent claims have been ignored and cancelled, saddling me with £400 (now almost £600 as I type), and then almost immediately after find out that despite having paid £95 of my £152 remaining Council Tax charges, I was informed I had £397 outstanding and would be facing court proceedings.

Even now, despite finding enough evidence to physically prove their incompetance as sole cause, I can't help but feel some guilt plaguing me. I've literally found myself condemning me with "But I KNOW their incompetant so I should have pursued even more than I had been doing." Where could it end?

I'm sorry this entry lacks focus, but that's kind of my life right now. It's just been all over the place; a big dollop of wibbly wobbly feelings going all over the place at all times. I've not given up, but I feel some aspects of me have certainly at least taken a sebatical until at least one of the problems gets a resolution. Ideally a cheesy sitcom one tying up all possible loose ends so as to never return again.

Treat Me Like I Don't Want It..

So this last week 50 Shades of Grey got a movie adaptation release and of course there was uproar about it's quality and effect on society before anyone even had the chance to see it.
The worst thing to humanity, sets women back 100 years etc.

But given that's it's role is based upon fetishes that in this context actually would empower a woman, can this really be true? Or even does it's quality condemn it when it could open so many doors in future?

Well, first of all I feel it would be best to look at the culture it lends a focus to; BDSM. This has been the guilty secret of millions for quite a number of years, even those who have a level of confidence that affords the "I don't give a shit" mentality when it comes to laying out all of our embarassing stories of sexual escapades can concede that expressing any desire for a trip into this world with a new partner is something of a tricky one; say the wrong thing or really push the line too far in suggestion and their entire view of you could be tainted and make things uncomfortable for a while.

I myself have been on both sides of this fence. For our six month anniversay we decided to take a visit to Ann Summers and find something different to help us celebrate with something new. We came away with a few general novelties and a pack of Karma Sutra themed cards. I'll spare the details, but it was only after this level of experimenting did she confide in me there was something she had always been curious to try. It started as tieing up, and it ended with opening up that she was a little interested in rape fantasy. Almost immediately she wanted to apologise for even suggesting it, such was her deep repression and guilt about her fetish. A similar thing would occur further down the line with subsequent partners (and even friends in general discussion) about anything from the idea of being gagged, bound, whipped or even choked (both varieties).


Now the book itself has received much criticism from many in this community who feel it completely misses alot of the important factors when it comes to this; the position of power. In the book of 50 Shades it would appear Mr Grey is the main benefactor of all endeveours, with frequent reference of our protagonist crying or cursing with fear of the encounter. While to many people who have no interest in the deeds themselves this could appear normal, it is infact quite a reverse; the dom is never the one with the power - every single thing that is to happen is under the control of the sub who is receiving the treatment. This is down to the use of the safeword; no matter a contract written up between the consenting partners (a factor that is used in said book) of what can and can not be used in these endevours, if the sub uses their safeword the dom is to stop at all costs immediately. This is what protects the kinky from becoming abusive.

The film however, seems to make a great deal of effort to change these factors; making our protagonist much more amused and compliant during the incidents - giggling and feigning sadness when being spanked, even though not particularly her fantasy, it is now a lot more clear where the power lies. Particularly when in the climax where she does infact not want it to happen and stops Mr Grey in his tracks.

And yet the film still gets condemned, largely by people who have taken to condemning it based on the novel itself or even the origins as Twilight fan-fic. Condemned for being based on something based on something they don't like (also largely through the memetic culture rather than personal experiences). But is it not a positive step forward?

I believe we all have our kinks and our quirks, whether it be feet, domination, subordination, watersports, or even simply dirty talk. And the fact that this is our biggest secrets that we feel, like my ex as mentioned above, who feel we must hide our elation and chance of nirvana for social barriers we ourselves built up. Is it not a good thing, quality of the source aside, if this goes even a single step into breaking down the barriers?

People were crying out for a Mr Grey of their own when the book was released, and that irked me. Mr Grey of that time was just someone who could abuse his power for his own selfish climax rather than his partner. But even then we got a flood of mainstream attention for BDSM and anything even tangently connected, and people the world over could for the first time voice a feeling of lust for something unique to us. Now with the film making that extra effort to showcase it's demographic in a more appropriate light, one can only feel this has to be a step in the right direction. A step to bogart our traditional "No sex please, I'm British!" personas and just accept everyone has their kink.

Feel free to discuss in the comments, or tweet to @Chromosoner

Failing Forwards

As another half dozen stores find themselves approaching bankruptcy and feeling the brutal hammer of retail failure, I find it rather timely for us to ask ourselves; is this the right way to progress in our society?
There is no denying that I am something of a technophobe, largely down to my almost fantastic failure in regards to it. If John Connor was assigned an Arnold Schwarzenegger cyborg to deal with him, I got saddled with Johnny Vegas, just sat there not really doing too much, just quietly failing in every conceivable way. And it is for this reason that I cannot abide internet shopping. The concept of just clicking at something I want to purchase is revolutionary for many, but just a painful missing of the point for others.

Shopping isn’t just about acquiring goods, it’s a pastime, a hobby, and even a tradition for many. Just take a moment to think - as Christmas begins to loom each year what do you do? Do you get all of your presents in advance, or do you leave it until the last few weeks and take part in the cultural significance of the Christmas Spree? Whilst it’s incredibly feasible and convenient at times to go to a HMV or Tesco Express on December 23rd and grab the perfect gifts - now undoubtedly at a fraction of the price as stores prepare for January sales - internet shopping doesn’t hold the same convenience. You are completely at the whim of the seller to when you will get this product; even if you don’t leave it to the last couple of days, as internet shopping takes over more and more of us are going to be forced to turn to the likes of Amazon and the like for our buying needs, and this is not going to help improve the postal system that people already complain comes to a standstill during the holiday seasons due to the influx of Christmas cards! I envisage a future where cyber-shopping dominates the market, and families gathered around their Christmas tree waiting for the appropriate branded packaging to be delivered several days after Christmas Day has ended.

There is of course more concerns than just pseudo-preaching of a miserable Christmas to worry about. Why do we shop online when we are asked to purchase and then wait for the product without ever seeing a physical copy until delivery, instead of making our way into the store and looking at a copy we want (checking through to see which is in peak physical condition, naturally) purchasing it from a human being, and then immediately being able to get use out of it? Because even with the added postage & packaging we are required to pay, it is still often a little cheaper to buy online / at least works out roughly the same as it would to have made the effort to go outside. However if we allow stores to disappear due to our own laziness, than we are giving a monopoly to the websites to charge whatever they wish. If play.com decides the retail of a game is now no longer £34.99 but instead worth £64.99 what can we do? Nothing because we have allowed all competition to sieve away into bankruptcy and thus are left in the hands of any potential greed that can ensue.

And so, all I can ask at the end of the day, is that we become more aware of what we as a society are doing with our spending, and make sure to at least investigate stores for a product rather than just cave in to the convenience of a super-store app on our phones, because at the end of the day, it can only come back to bite us and by then we’ll be just left scrolling for a more convenient app to save us.

Waking Up In The Land Of Dreams

Do you ever just have a moment where you take a step back and appreciate everything that's changed? 

I do too. And it always freaks me out, like that jump scare in a film you've seen a hundred times but you'll be damned if you don't still leap out you're chair. 

                                                

So, what's really changed in the two years since I last took an interest? Well my facebook has almost tripled in value, I've earned money from selling my own art, got a job, and I seem to have woken up in Hollywood.. 

The dawning of my new life of the British tinsel town was looking at my friends. Last time I looked my friends were collective bums or favour-jobs types. Now I somehow seem to know at least 6 people who live their life as models, a couple of professional artists, novelists and even professional singers.  

How is it you can wake up from the coma of unemployment and discover your friend is releasing a hotly anticipated single whilst another helps net over 20k in 9 months for charity? I mean hell I'm in the process of writing a novelisation to a feature film! How the hell did the reality of this slip past me?  

There was a brief moment I contemplated reality shortly after publishing From The Inside Out and getting the first wave of #BookSelfies but it was left with a bemused irony. Yeah I had lived the dream at least once, but I was still poor this was hardly the life of success. 

That was until recently when I read an interview with Ernie Hudson, known to many as the really cool black guy who seems to just pop up in films. In the interview he talked about his role in Ghostbusters and hitting super stardom instantly but still finding himself struggling with the bills. He was a face recognised and cheered by fans the world over, but that didn't change the fact none of them had really been actually paid all that much for the film, and now he found himself losing work BECAUSE of the instant recognition. 

                                                          

That struck home very distinctly for me, and sure for many others; the Hollywood life is not the lucrative playboy billionaire excess we would all associate it by default, it is living whatever dream you've set yourself and living it with your fans. 

I know I sure am lucky to be one of these people now, no matter how brief my 15 minutes may be, I'll always have this. And that ain't a bad way to be.

Vanessa René will be releasing her new single A Part Of Me raising awareness for CCUK as part of the amazing #GetYourBellyOut community on the 1st of Feb, and you can follow her - but only on Facebook and Twitter @VanessaReneUK! The music video of which can be found here 

And as usual you can follow me on Twitter @Chromosoner

and my book is available here 

The Long Road

Speed had always been something of a factor to Paul’s life. Not the drug, indeed much of this fourteen year old’s life was spent surrounded by the presence of questionable pressure from his peers that they span him full circle and, despite a penchant for the odd spirit, the allure of drugs never made their presence known to him. But as he found himself wheeling some sixty miles to the backend of his country tightly clutching his possessions and his Russian blue, he sure as hell felt the downslide of speed.
Entire novels of fictionalised memories of adventures around town with his friends adapted themselves into film as they flicked through his mind over the coming days as he unpacked his belongings. It felt almost cliché that just three years into his puberty he felt the pangs of never having accomplished anything, but sometimes a cliché rings a little too close to home to be falsity. The truth was, he knew his demeanour wasn’t one that attracted many; people came for his friends and they stayed for him, that was the system and for most of high school that system had worked. But he had to adjust to freelance charm; the independent drive-in film, a gigolo without his pimp.

It took two months before he met another soul who didn’t speak with an accent so thick he needed a translator to get past initial greetings. Somewhere between his balance of train-switching to his friends, he bumped into her. Their eyes met and shuddered away like the butt ends of a magnet trying to kiss as they desperately tried to not notice one another too much.
Silence festered between them, or at least it would have were there not a particularly rude set of train carriages scraping up a speed to their right.
Although none of them knew who initiated the discourse, they both found themselves caught up in small talk; their bags slathered with personal ink and badges of their ‘identities’ through an array of bands, and the two struck a chord.
He was awkward but she found something endearing between the stutters and shuffling of his fifty layers of fringe. She made such intentions perfectly clear as they parted ways for their separate trains and he opened his mouth to mutter a thanks but the harsh dryness that came with such incessant talk had robbed him of speech, leaving him to silently pop his lips like a guppy as the train doors clamped shut.



Music being their passion, it didn’t take long for them to take up jamming together, working every idle frustration of their pubescent bodies through the rhythm of whatever beat their limited knowledge could craft. A band was formed; her brother providing the drumbeats, Paul providing the impression of talent where vocals and lyrics were considered, and herself providing the talent. They formed a brutal union of lustful stares and the butchering of their favourite music through any place that would accept them and not insist on a dress code that could curb their creative expression.
And then she disappeared.
A car robbed them of any future that could have bloomed and all that remained of the time they shared was a note taped to a post and the wilting assortment of flowers that occasionally adorned it.
That was when the young boy learned that behind every detail the eye could see told a story. Every spec of dirt was once a tale spun, some of them sad and some of them happy, but all of them a life of their own to have cherished and appreciate.

The real beauty in life is in the imperfections, and through the years Paul went on to live he took it upon himself to show everyone that. Never relish the dark, it only makes works to consume, instead find the beauty within it. No matter how bleak, there is always a twinkling light to take from every shadow and only by embracing that can we truly strengthen in character, and shed the baggage we travel with.