Recently a lot of people have asked me where they can find some of my stories for free. My favorite answer is of course, buy my book, it’s not that expensive, especially as an ebook (Kindle or Smashwords). But I laugh that off (and wipe away a tear) as I suggest a few places my stuff might be. Here is that advice:
How Quickly We Forget – Working customer service for a memory wipe broker requires a special set of skills and a special flavor of morality. Jack Spiegel has both. (Near-future sci-fi, very short, PG-13)
Brother Goo – Having a weird little brother is not cool for a middle school kid. But when Brandon’s little brother Mike goes from weird to other worldly, Brandon knows he needs to take action. (Present day sci-fi, fairly short, PG)
The Drake’s Eye – Lucas Drake can’t resist the opportunity to acquire a family jewel. But once he does, what would it take to convince him to part with it? And will parting be enough? (Urban fantasy/horror, very short, PG-13)
Leech Run – Captain Titan makes a living smuggling energy-siphoning mutant humans from one planet to another. But when one of those mutants goes missing from the hold, his ship and the lives of his passengers and crew all hang in the balance. (Space Opera sci-fi, text and audio, PG-13/R)
ZFL – Zombie Football League. Enough said. (near future zombies, very short, PG-13/R)
Chasers – When colony ships travel from star to star with empty fuel tanks, it’s up to Chasers like Sebastian and Wild to catch them and fuel them for deceleration. But the competition out there can get cutthroat; if you can’t take it, move on. (Space opera sci-fi, text and audio, PG-13)
So that’s what there is of me for free right now. Plenty to give you a taste of what I do. There’s a lot more good stuff out there to be found. Check my Bibliography page for more. And enjoy the freebies!
If you’ve been here before, you’ll notice I’ve redecorated. I also renamed the blog. Oso Muerte, as I said in my last post, is an old persona. I’m not a high school kid playing RPGs anymore; I’m a grown man who wishes he still had time to play RPGs.
I thought long and hard about the new title. There were many rejects before this one struck me. Similarly, the new domain name was a bit of a wrestle since I really wanted the .com, but who types in web addresses if they can avoid it? It’s all part of my WotF win makeover. Don’t get me wrong, I liked the old decor just fine, but it formatted poorly with my new artwork.
The new theme does cause one problem: the table in my workshop page is now the wrong size and it runs into my sidebar (where all the links are). But that page was pretty clunky anyway and this gives me an excuse to straighten things up a bit.
I think everything else is in working order. I’m going t reorganize my sidebar, especially the blogroll which is poorly sorted.
And don’t worry folks, I’m still the same old Oso; I’m just not broadcasting it like I used to.
I just added a bibliography page to this blog. In doing so, it occurred to me that I have never before had two stories published in the same calendar year. Sold in the same year, yes, but not printed.
I find this tough to believe, honestly. I know I am not the most prolific writer or the most published, but I though I had a few streaks. Apparently not.
But 2009 is changing this. I have sold two stories this year, both in the past week. Amazingly they were both sent out on the same day (April 9th if you’re looking for a good day to mail stuff). Surely they’ll both see print before the end of the year. And I have every intention of finishing the year strong (four still out and more where they came from).
There is a chance that I missed something in my bibliography. My pre-2004 records are spotty at best. If I discover any omissions, I’ll be sure to fix it.
I dug through a file on my computer called “sold stories” and found some gems that will not likely be sold as reprints unless I make it big or need filler for my own anthology. Not to say they were bad stories — they sold, didn’t they? — but they aree clearly from my past.
I decided to post one of those stories here, despite mixed opinions from my readers. The story I’m posting (right now) is “Blood of a Soldier”, my 5000-word military-vampire story. It’s probably more science fiction than it is horror, but it does get a touch graphic. I am more disturbed by some of the amateur flags I flew throughout the story (watch for my not-too-blatant “said bookisms”). Still, there are a few well-turned phrases and a lot of my preferred direct style. Surprisingly there is little in the way of dialog; I feel I’m usually strong with dialog and fill stories with it because of that.
Anyway, this is where I’ve been. Stories like this got me this far. Depending on its reception, I mayreplace it sometime in the future, but it’ll be here for a while. I don’t have a trunk of pieces I’m ready to fling around for free…at least not yet. Maybe someday. For now, enjoy.
I was surfing the contents of my own harddrive, as I am prone to do every so often, and rediscovered an old story of mine. It was so old the byline was S. Winfield Baker rather than Scott W. Baker. I don’t remember submitting it anywhere and I have no record of sending it out, but I had gone to the trouble of typing “Disposable Manuscript” at the top.
It was a story set in a world where people choose to save themselves as computer programs before they die, that signalling the end of their “fleshtime” but not their lifetime since they live forever as programs. The idea was that exciting memories would be hot commodities for the program-people since they can’t do exciting stuff. Even if they could, they lacked the adrenaline to truly enjoy thrills. Memories of thrills from their fleshtime were the closest they could get. These memories end up no more than computer files and can be transferred to others. If someone in storage had real money (useless inside the program), they could pay flesh people to do what they wanted to remember in exchange for the right to acquire that memory. I’m not sure it took that many words to describe the setting in the story.
Anyway, I had put the story away as not SF enough. Can you believe it? Sure the guy doing the stunt is a real person and doing stuff that is (kind of) feasible in present society, but the story falls apart without the speculative elements.
It’s a better story than I ever gave it credit for being. I don’t think it’s pro-calibur, but I’ll probably brush it up and circulate it through some semi-pro zines. I may Critter it first. Some of the techniques were clever. I wonder if I did them intentionally.
The story is a memory that is interrupted a few times by program-people chatting in text-like format.
The story is told in first person, the flesh person being the POV character.
It’s really supposed to be the memory roughly as perceived by the program-person. The sensory events are good but need more tastes and smells.
The POV character is part of a clever little subculture.
It’s not brilliant, but it’s cute. A little disturbing, too. It might have more meaning in it than some of my better stories. Death, as a theme, often plays well. This story gives a reasonable first person account of dying since the memory is transferred to someone else. The explanation of why everyone can’t do that needs a lot more strength, but otherwise I was pleasantly surprised by this old story. We’ll see what comes of it.
Ever waited a really long time for something just to realize you have to wait some more? Welcome to my world.
I got an email from Clarion West. I’ve been waitlisted. This means that if John Doe is accepted, says he’s going, then develops a case of malaria that prevents him from attending, I’m in. Actually it is reasonable that someone would drop out of a six-week event like Clarion West. Job issues, money issues, love life issues, spontaneous success, spontaneous combustion…lots of possibilities. I do not wish these issues on anyone, but if they come up, I’m here.
It’s not clear how long the waitlist is. Just me? Two or three of us? A whole minor league team worth? Do I get a call for any dropout or just another male? I guess the issue is merely academic.
Still no word from San Diego. It should come tomorrow. I’m still holding out hope. I really think that application was stronger. We’ll see.
Good luck to the Clarion West class of 2009. I’ll be watching for your names in the big zines; you watch out for mine. It will be there.
Yesterday I did something I haven’t done in years: I flew a kite. It wasn’t an elaborate kite, just a one dollar Wal-Mart special with a picture of Elmo. It was my wife’s idea that my daughter would enjoy it. As usual, my wife was right. Abby wanted to hold the string the whole time and was very upset when the kite came down (which happened frequently in the gusty day). It was a nice bonding moment. I will get Elmo out again soon.
It was an experience I wanted to share with people, maybe write a story with such a scene, but I don’t think I can do it. I could describe the actions, but there is no describing the feeling a parent experiences sharing a moment with their child. The best I could hope to accomplish would be to stir that emotion in people who have experienced something similar. It made me feel inadequate as a writer.
I am an inadequate writer, don’t get me wrong, but writers are supposed to write the stuff they feel it is important to share. Really, it can’t be done.
Maybe I take the writer’s mission statement too literally. Maybe it is most important that I make it clear that the character feels this, whether the reader feels it themselves could be irrelevant. Negative emotions and sensations are so much simpler: anger, frustration, pain, defeat, sadness. You don’t have to have had your fingernails removed with needle-nosed pliers to appreciate the description in a story. I’m not sure the mix of love, pride, accomplishment, and giving shares that potential.
I am making it a goal to write a story including that kind of moment. I’m not ready right now, but I want to do it. Maybe at Clarion (east or west, whichever comes through) when my idea bank starts emptying out, when my skills are sharp and my wits are dull. It doesn’t have to be a kite, maybe give the experience a speculative twist. A wizard teaching his child to levitate objects. A tribal alien sharing a first hunt with its offspring.
Think how many more experiences like this I have opportunities to enjoy. Riding a bike, driving a car (way in the future), first love letter, first fishing trip (Mom may be better at that). O am overwhelmed. It makes me feel guilty for the number of days I’ve let slip by without sharing something new with her. She is only two. How many things can I expect her to appreciate right now?
It also makes me feel guilty for hoping so vehemently to leave her for six weeks this summer. I did not stop being my own person when she was born, I need to continue pursuing my own dreams as well as hers, but I still feel like a heel. I bet I could write that feeling into a story, selfishness and shame.
This is not usually what I do with this blog. You are not my therapist. I just felt this needed to be shared, so here it is. I promise something more upbeat next time.
Jordan Lapp (first applicant accepted for this year’s CW, congratz to him) posted his application essay on his blog. I thought this was a great idea, so here’s mine. I haven’t been accepted yet, but my phone is still connected.
Clarion West Application Essay
Scott W. Baker
Howdy, I’m Scott. Yes, I said it: howdy. I’m not quite sure why I say it. I was born near Rochester, NY – not exactly a “howdy” place. I moved to Tennessee when I was four, grew up surrounded by other displaced Yankees, none of whom said howdy. So why do I say it? It’s just another part of me that defies explanation.
I can’t explain why I wear Hawaiian shirts to work in the winter. Nor my (platonic) obsession with penguins. Nor why I have a Spanish nickname (Oso) but can’t speak the language. I certainly can’t explain why I have to quote Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles every time I teach an algebra class about radicals.
Oops, busted. By day, I masquerade as a high school math teacher.
Believe me when I tell you I am a good math teacher. Some of my students love me. Some despise me. Most regard me with the passing amusement owed a grown man imitating an applauding Tyrannosaurus. Do they remember that I was teaching them the triangle inequality when I did that? I blissfully choose to believe they do.
So why is a happily employed math teacher applying for a speculative fiction workshop? Why do amputees develop itches in their missing limbs? Whether it’s real or not, I feel there is a part of me missing, a part that can entertain, inspire, engross, or at least awaken something in people that wasn’t there before. I teach for a living; what I am is a writer. That’s an itch I have to scratch.
My favorite distraction.
Everyone that writes knows it is impossible to find time to write. If you want to have time, you must make time. Making time is one of the hardest things I have tried to do in my life. It has become even harder in the past two years since the most beautiful little distraction entered my life – Abigail. That two-year-old is the sweetest little migraine ever born. How do I tell her, “Not now, Abby, Daddy’s writing a story about energy-eating people in outer space?” So I try to work around her: losing sleep, postponing test grades, writing on the toilet, losing more sleep…and still occasionally saying “Not now, Abby, Daddy’s writing a story about the moral dilemmas of using clones to serve in the military.”
Six weeks of “no Abby, Daddy’s in Seattle” will be very tough for me, as will being apart from my equally beautiful wife, Christi. I will miss them both every minute. But a day will come when Abby is proud of her daddy for the sacrifices he made the summer of 2009 in order to fulfill his dream. Maybe it will give her the strength to sacrifice for a dream of her own one day.
Money will be the least of the sacrifices I make to attend Clarion West. If you know anything about teacher salaries in Tennessee, that’s saying a lot. Nonetheless, I understand and accept each of those sacrifices in pursuit of my calling.
The first time writing called to me, I was an undergrad education major. An idea crawled into my head and took up residence until I finally grabbed the keyboard and wrote a novel. I shopped it around long enough to learn how bad it was.
Next I wrote a quaint time travel story that actually sold to the first market I submitted to. It was a small story sold to a small market for small money. Still, the instant acceptance was not exactly a taste of the reality of writing – that reality check was coming for my next story. And the next few. I have made a (small) number of semi-pro sales in my career, but mostly just more rejection slips.
I have no formal training to write. The things I know have been wrenched out of “how to” books, imitated from other authors, acquired through online groups (like Critters.org), gleaned from experience, or found inside my soul. I fear these ponds are running dry. I need new resources if my writing is to continue to grow.
My small town in Tennessee has a genre-savvy population comparable to the clientele of a dry cleaner in a nudist colony. I need to immerse myself in a community of…well, people like me. Dreamers, cynics, wordsmiths, worldsmiths…writers.
I have been writing for ten years and have no intention of stopping any time soon, come workshop or high water. What I want is to write better – to write well. CW can accelerate that process, cram a decade into a few weeks. I need to understand my mistakes so I can learn from them. I need the criticism. I need the focus. I need the environment. I need Clarion West.
Every now and then I post something I think people might actually find useful rather than just entertaining or informative about me. I’m going to try to maintain a list of links to those useful posts on the right side (with all my other exciting links). Just another service I provide. If you see a post that belongs in my “useful” list, leave a comment and I’ll add it.
My first order of business is to keep myself busy so I don’t go mad waiting to hear from the Clarions. Sure the application deadline is past (or will be in a few hours), but they still need to review last minute applications, compare scores on all the applications, select their top 18-20 as well as an alternate list, then decide when to start contacting people. I will be shocked if I hear something this week. That doesn’t mean I’m not holding my breath each time I check my caller ID.
So how do I keep busy? Writing, of course. I’m still trying to finish up my second version of “Leech Run” for Baen’s Universe, not that I’m terribly optimistic about it getting picked up. If it doesn’t (I’m not giving up all hope), I’ll set it aside until the workshop (I am still overly optimistic about that, in spite of myself) since it should be the first of my stories to be analyzed by the masses there. (It could be “Glow Baby” if I end up in San Diego, but I digress). Regardless, I don’t expect the rewrite to take more than another day or two.
I decided my next project will be to run with my woman-warrior story, as yet untitled but the file is saved under Kree.doc since Kree is the name of the alien race. Before I go too far, I need to read The Science of Aliens, which is sitting on my bookshelf. It will give some hard science credibility to my aliens and my story in general.
This project will probably take a few weeks at least. I won’t be surprised if I get distracted by another project before I finish, but I’m trying not to do that. If I get stuck, I’ll try to brush out another story for young readers, something under 2k words, so I can get back to the serious story. I have a lot of emotion, intrigue, and social commentary planned for this one. It may be tough, but I bet it comes out good…for me.
Anyway, that’s my to-do list for the next few weeks. I’ll likely know about a Clarion before the Kree story is done unless I hit an unprecidented rhythm. *sigh* Time to get to work.
Scott W. Baker .net 