‘Monster Hunters of the Undermire’ coming soon – read the first chapter here

Undermire
This entry is part 1 of 3 in the series Monster Hunters of the Undermire

My fantasy adventure ‘Monster Hunters of the Undermire’ is close to being ready for publication. It is currently waiting for a redesign of the cover and general artwork.

It won’t be long, but in the meantime here’s the blurb and the first chapter of the novel:

Thirteen-year-old Robbie Callahan is spending the summer with his archeologist father. Robbie wanders the moor and gazes into the peat mire where he sees a girl’s face, her eyes of amber burning back at him.

A trick of the light, he tells himself. Stay away from the black pool, his father urges. But after a family row, Robbie flees into a storm. He sinks into the peat bog, drowning until dragged from the water by the enigmatic Evelryn. Robbie finds himself in a mysterious celtic underworld enclosed by the Underlight, an uncrossable barrier created by the magic of the druids to keep monsters out – and make their people safe.

Robbie wants only to go home but never can, according to a prophecy, unless he first rescues Evelryn’s sister, imprisoned in a deep dungeon at the roots of a far-off mountain – and guarded by a terrifying monster.

Chapter One – The Black Mire

Alone on a wetland moor, Robbie Callahan knelt in the mud and stared into the peat-dark pond. Flaming hair shimmered beneath the surface. Eyes of fire flashed below the ripples of the mire. He leant closer until he felt the chill of the water on his cheeks, his hands squelching in the wet peat. He’d seen a face – where was she? There, under the reflections, something moved. Eyes of burning amber stared back at him, wide with fear.

A shiver skittered through his shoulders and down his spine. His skin tingled with goosebumps. He was seeing things. Nothing could live in the black bog. No fish, at any rate. An eel?

He pulled away, looked again: a girl, a face, terrified. Gone.

A trick of the light, he told himself, nothing more, though his heart pounded in his chest. What hair can burn under black water?

His father strode across the moor, yelling at him: “Robbie, get away from the pool. Look at the state of you.”

Robbie scowled. He wasn’t a child.

“Why are you kneeling in the mud? Don’t you know the water’s dangerous?”

But it wasn’t deep and Robbie could swim. Besides, there was nothing else to do out here except stand on the rock tomb and shriek at the wind.

His father pulled him to his feet. “Your jeans are a mess.”

His knees were caked in black mud. Stick a spade in the ground out here and this is what you got.

“Come help with the dig,” his father said, “we’ve found something extraordinary.”
What this time? A shard of pot or blob of black dirt that might be rusted metal? Robbie tried to sound interested. “Treasure? Gold? Dragon bones?”

“A body,” his dad said. “In the peat. A genuine bog body. There’s never been one found on this moor. It’s neolithic, two thousand years old at least. You can make out the features of his face, the bristles of his beard. He’s wearing a gold torc, a thick band of gold, must have been buried with it. And a ritual killing – all the signs are there: shreds of rope around his neck, as if he’d been hung, but a hole in his skull from the blow of a weapon. And cracked ribs, perhaps from a dagger struck to the heart. Overkill, they call it.”

In his mind’s eye Robbie saw the terror on the victim’s face, the glint of sunlight on a sharp blade and the grimace of the executioner. “Why do all that? What had he done?”
“He might have been a criminal, or a king for that matter, slaughtered when times grew hard, or he failed to protect his tribe. Maybe the climate turned against them, or the crops withered. Perhaps he lost a battle, or his people sickened. So they put him to death and sent him to the water. A human sacrifice. An offering to the spirits. Or a gift for the gods.”

Robbie glanced towards the mire. Is that where the ghosts lurked? Should he tell his father what he’d seen? He’d only laugh. “I don’t understand. They buried him in water, but you found him in the ground?”

“It was marsh, back then, maybe a shallow lake. The body must have sunk into the peat and mummified. We need to get it out before it rots. I’ve come for tools.” His dad gestured towards the stone tomb, which he had been excavating, off an on, for the past four summers. The top of it was still covered with layers of turf but the huge menhirs used to build the burial chamber had been exposed at the front and sides. The entrance was blocked with metal fencing padlocked together. His dad had the key but rarely opened it and he never let Robbie inside. The place was precious, he’d say, there were bones in there untouched for centuries. “Give me a hand with the bags. You can help with the dig.”

He could stand around and watch is what that meant. Fetch cups of tea and biscuits, bring trowels for the diggers, carry messages. Wash pottery. A waste of a summer as far as Robbie was concerned. He should be with Charlie, Jim and the rest. They’d be on the waste ground or down by the river, free of adults, doing their own thing. “Can I look in the tomb?”

“It isn’t safe. And stay away from the water. Don’t come here again, understand?”

The answer was always “no.” Robbie cast a glance back at the mire – black, cold and still.

His father fumbled with the keys, unlocking the padlock that secured the metal fencing around the tomb. “Stay here, I’ll go in and hand the stuff back to you.” He disappeared into the darkness and emerged moments later with a canvas bag of tools which he thrust at Robbie. “Be careful with that.”

Robbie grunted. They didn’t trust him with anything.

His father locked up the fencing. Robbie watched him secure the keys in a zip-up pocket of his jacket.

“Let’s get back to the dig. There’s lots to do. There’s a storm coming tonight. We found a sword, did I mention that?”

“Is it sharp? Can I have it?”

“Has to be cleaned up first. Then it goes to a museum. Or storage. It’s not all there. A bit of hilt, some metal.”

Not so exciting, after all. Robbie glanced again at the black mire. “I don’t get it. Why did they dump things in a pond?”

His father slung a rucksack of equipment over one shoulder. “There are finds from bogs across Europe. Gold and silver, swords, daggers, jewels – and bodies, all put into the water. It was sacred, a gateway, a passage to another world. But it’s hard to know why or what they believed. They left no writing, those ancient Celts. They’re a mystery, always will be.”

As they climbed out of the shallow dell the wind whipped across the moor, bringing a threat of rain. “You should wear a coat, you’ll catch your death,” his dad said, striding ahead.

“You sound like Mum.” That was an easy way to shut him up: mention Mum. Robbie scurried to catch up, clutching the bag of tools, too heavy to lug across the sodden moor. There was no arguing with his dad though, not in this mood. No reasoning, either. As he reached the lip of the hollow, Robbie glanced back one last time at the water. Was that a flash of fire?

“Keep up. Come on.”

Robbie longed to stay, to stare into the water and wait for the eyes to return.
“I won’t ask again,” his father yelled.

Robbie turned and headed away from the mire, shaking his head. There was nothing there, he told himself. It was only his imagination, running wild. How could there be flaming hair beneath the pond? Or a face? Though he saw it still, when he closed his eyes, as clear as day – a girl staring at him, horrified, as if she had glimpsed a shadow of a ghost, or a monster in human form from a savage, hidden world.

One of those days

Writing
zen by Louise Leclerc

The Zen folk have a saying: you should meditate for twenty minutes every day, except on days when you don’t have the time. In which case you should meditate for an hour.

I think the same principle applies to writing – write for four hours a day, except when you don’t have the time. In which case, you’ll need to write for eight hours. And you still won’t catch up with yourself.

 

Photo: 'Zen' by Louise Leclerc via Flickr and Creative Commons

Book Links 30-05-2016

bookworld

Articles from around the web which fascinated me – and which I hope may be of interest to anyone who has read my books.

Neanderthals were smarter than you may think

The Atlantic has published an article about discoveries in a cave in France which are rewriting our views of Neanderthals. (My prehistoric stories in the Koriba series don’t feature Neanderthals – the people in those novels are all Cro-Magnon or modern humans. All the same, I assume visitors here may share my wider interest in all things prehistoric.)

The finds at Bruniquel Cave include hominid-made structures – created from stalagmites and stalactites – which are astonishingly old:

After drilling into the stalagmites and pulling out cylinders of rock, the team could see an obvious transition between two layers. On one side were old minerals that were part of the original stalagmites; on the other were newer layers that had been laid down after the fragments were broken off by the cave’s former users. By measuring uranium levels on either side of the divide, the team could accurately tell when each stalagmite had been snapped off for construction.

Their date? 176,500 years ago, give or take a few millennia.

The structure were clearly not intended as shelter since they are deep within a cave. The best guess is that they were made for ritual, religious or cultural purposes.

 “The Neanderthal group responsible for these constructions had a level of social organization that was more complex than previously thought…. We now know that Neanderthals made tools, used fire, made art, buried their dead, and perhaps even had language.”

Waking from a coma

STAT has a piece on the use of brain scans to predict which patients might one day wake from a coma (a situation featured in my novel Lost In Thought).

A simple measurement using a device available in every hospital could distinguish brain damaged patients who are likely to “wake up” from those who are not, scientists reported on Thursday.

Scientists have tried using position emission tomography, or PET, imaging, which measures brain metabolism, to better predict which patients could regain consciousness.

The scientists tested the technique on 131 brain-injured patients: 49 in a vegetative state, 65 who were minimally conscious, and 17 who were emerging from a minimally conscious state. No single region was associated with likelihood of regaining consciousness — that is, the brain does not have a “consciousness center.”

But overall metabolism did show a difference.

Life and creativity after a stroke

Mind Hacks has a piece on Lotje Sodderland who experienced a major brain haemorrhage at the age of 34 and has made a documentary about her experiences and recovery.

She started filming herself a few days afterwards on her iPhone, initially to make sense of her suddenly fragmented life, but soon contacted film-maker Sophie Robinson to get an external perspective.

It’s interesting both as a record of an emotional journey through recovery, but also because Lotje spent a lot of time working with a special effects designer to capture her altered experience of the world and make it available to the audience.

The documentary is now available available on Netflix. This is the trailer:

Lotje wrote a long-form article which appeared in The Guardian back in 2014.

This is the life

out-and-about

It’s a dog’s life, so they saying goes. I say, why not join them – especially when they’re sleeping  under the pear tree on a beautiful warm May day.

Not the most flattering shot of me – but shooting a selfie with a dog licking your face is kinda tricky.

airedale terrier

Happy dog

Story idea: brainjacking

Story

I’d like to predict that in the very near future, this idea will be coming to a novel and / or movie near you:

In a new scientific review paper published in World Neurosurgery, a group of Oxford neurosurgeons and scientists round up a set of dire, terrifying warnings about the way that neural implants are vulnerable to networked attacks.

The quote above is from a post on BoingBoing. The scientific paper is here, but sequestered behind one of those ludicrously expensive academic paywalls.

Perhaps the most concerning attack strategy feasible using currently implanted neural devices involves the use of operant conditioning to exert substantial control over a patient’s behaviour.

Reminds me a little of the character Kilgrave in Jessica Jones – only with science instead of comic book ‘mutation’.

(By the way, I’ve just invented the word ‘neurobabble’ – and I think I’m going to use it a lot).

Feel like you’re howling at the void? Maybe it’s only the “gulf of disapproval”

bookworld

Seth Godin today posts about something he calls “the gulf of disapproval.”

It applies, he says, to new ideas, inventions and businesses.

most of the people who hear about it don’t get it.

And the idea, business, invention would die on the vine, if it weren’t for another group:

the early adopters, the believers, and some of them are sneezers. They tell everyone they can about your new idea.

There aren’t many of them at first. And the number grows agonisingly slowly. But gradually, they begin to convert the disapproving.

It is these people you need to focus on – the few that do get it, not the many who turn away in bafflement. Otherwise, you run the risk of hitting the wall. Of giving up.

I think it applies as much to books and stories as it does to ideas and business ventures.

Check out Seth's post here.

When it comes to police interrogations, story tellers need a new script

Writing

Do detectives know what they’re doing? It’s a question that should trouble not only the police, lawyers, criminals and others involved in the cops and robbers game – but all of us who read, write or watch crime stories.

In fiction, police investigators are often portrayed as highly skilled at getting to the truth. Once they have a suspect in the interrogation room they use guile, know-how, gut instinct and cunning psychological ploys to make the bad guy break down and talk.

The truth, as I’m sure we all suspected, is somewhat different.

An article in Wired reveals how interrogation techniques have developed over the years – and how they have changed significantly in the UK and Canada, with similar changes about to happen in the USA.

Back in the day, the article explains, interrogation methods lacked subtlety:

Until the mid-1930s, police still widely used the “third degree”—that is, torture—to get suspects to talk. Officers across the country hung suspects out of windows, dunked their heads underwater, and hit them. In 1931 a presidential panel known as the Wickersham Commission called atten­tion to the brutality of the third degree. Then, in 1936, the US Supreme Court effectively outlawed the practice with its ruling in Brown v. Mississippi, a case involving three black men who were beaten and whipped until they confessed.

Interrogation methods were changed, with a specific nonviolent method of questioning suspects introduced in 1962, after a manual of interrogation methods was published by John E. Reid, a former police officer turned polygraphy expert. (The methods it outlined became known as the Reid Technique). In the book, Reid likened the detective to “a hunter stalking his game.”

The manual gave rise to a new archetype: the silver-tongued interrogator—someone who, through intimidation and seduction, can get anyone to admit to anything.

It turns out, however, that most police, even detectives, are not so highly skilled. In fact, they are barely trained:

“You would think that at a large organization like the LAPD, a large emphasis would be put on developing interrogation skills for their detectives,” says Tim Marcia, reflecting on his own haphazard indoctrination into modern interrogation technique. “To be quite honest, we go to an 80-hour detective school, and probably about four hours is devoted to interrogation.”

While styles fluctuated somewhat, the basic outline of the Reid technique remained intact. And the most consistent thing over the years? No matter what detectives did with a suspect in the interro­gation room, they were convinced they were doing it right….

The trouble with modern interrogation technique, as Marcia would learn, is that, despite its scientific pose, it has almost no science to back it up.

Ouch. Detectives across the USA – and doubtless much of the world – were using dodgy theories that were untested and wouldn’t pass muster in a noir spoof where the detectives are supposed to be clueless idiots.  

“The case turned Hollywood detective story tropes on their heads.”

The method basically amounted to asking a few preliminary questions, getting a feel for the subject’s body language – twitches and ticks and so on – then moving on to the harder questions and seeing how they reacted. Once they think they know the truth, they then use tougher psychological tricks to grind down their suspect. The results were a deluge of wrongful convictions and false confessions – some voluntary from attention seekers, some coerced and some ‘persuaded’, where the detectives have effectively implanted false memories in an impressionable or mentally impaired suspect.

torture interrogation

In the UK and Canada, less confrontational methods of interrogation have been in place for a number of years – focusing on getting the suspect to tell their story. The interrogators are not allowed to lie to the suspect, and they avoid ‘yes’ and ‘no’ questions, focusing instead on obtaining an accurate account of what happened.

The style of interrogations in the USA is now about to undergo a major change. The changes  are being led by the HIG – the High-Value Detainee Interrogation Group set up by President Obama to investigate more effective ways of questioning terrorism suspects. The HIG involves teams from the FBI, the CIA, and the Pentagon. Their methods are based on behavioural science and proper research, with an emphasis on ‘rapport building’ and being as non-accusatorial as possible.

The Wired article examines how the new techniques were used in LA on a notorious unsolved murder case.

From start to finish, people covering the case had been scarcely able to resist pointing out, in some way or another, how like a movie it all was. But what no one outside the LAPD really realized was just how much the case turned Hollywood detective story tropes on their heads. The interrogation room was a pleasant midrange hotel suite. And the hard-boiled detectives, despite looking like cops straight out of central casting, were working from an entirely new script.

“The hard-boiled detectives, despite looking like cops straight out of central casting, were working from an entirely new script.”

What all this means for fiction is that policing methods have changed or are changing – and crime stories  set in the present day will need to reflect that. The problem, of course, is that these non-confrontational techniques are less dramatic. It’s better television to have the detective threatening the suspect, slamming fists on the table, yelling accusations, storming around the room, throwing coffee cups. Lying. Beating up the bad guy.

None of that is going to be happening any more. At least, that’s the theory.

One of the most interesting developments in all of this might be to see who changes first – and who resists change the most – the police or the story tellers?

 

Read the article in full.
Picture 1: Anonymous Captured by Brian Krug via Flickr
Picture 2: 120830-F-MQ656-481 by DMA Hawaii Forward Center photostream on Flickr.

It’s a dog’s life

out-and-about

This is supposed to be my summertime writing environment, but it has been claimed and colonised by my not-so-trusty Airedale Terrier.

 

To be fair, she does look fairly relaxed.

Beware Frankenstein fiction – all the nuts and bolts but no soul

Craft

What makes a book special?

Some writers have something important to say – and will typically write non-fiction.

Other writers may have a story they are itching to tell – and will usually write fiction.

But when the two come together, when a writer has something they feel compelled to communicate with the world, and they wrap that up in a great story (in other words, they dramatise it), then the magic happens.

The magic otherwise known as ‘theme.’

Too many works of fiction these days don’t seem to have much of a theme. They have plots and characters and action, stuff that happens, all the nuts and bolts, but no soul – like a Frankenstein’s monster of a tale, lumbering around half dead. Going through the motions.

If a book leaves you a bit ‘meh’, unsatisfied, as if it never really got going or went anywhere or had the drive or passion you were hoping to encounter, then it’s likely that the writer skipped on theme. That’s never a good idea.

If you like to think about the books you’ve read, why you love some and are indifferent about others – or if you write reviews of books online (such as Amazon or Goodreads), then next time, stop and ask yourself ‘what was the theme? Was the author trying to say?’

If you can’t come up with anything – then maybe they couldn’t either…

 

Photo by Khánh Hmoong via Flickr and Creative Commons

 

Looking for beta readers and reviewers

News

If you want a free book – and my undying gratitude – in return for an honest review then I’m happy to send out ARCs (advanced review copies) of my forthcoming books (including ‘Monster Hunters of the Undermire‘ and ‘Blood Read‘). Please get in touch through the contact page.

I would also be interested in hearing from potential beta readers to give their assessment of pre-publication versions of my books. Once again, if you’re interested please let me know through the contact page.

All copies will need to be electronic, but can be mobi, PDF or epub.