White and Other Tales of Ruin (60 page)

In “The First Law,” my unfortunate sailors find themselves in a place where humanity is already shunned. They think they’re survivors, but they’re little more than parasites. And the island, their Nemesis, is determined to exterminate them one by one. I enjoyed working on the relationships between the men, providing that internal conflict as well as the threat from without. It’s pretty grim and downbeat, so I’m told ... but from where I view the story, there’s a definite note of hope and even triumph at the end.

Of course, if you’re reading the story from the island’s point of view, it’s a virtual comedy!

This was also released as an excellently produced audio book from Elmtree.

White

White
(chapbook) — MOT Press 1999

I’d always wanted to write a siege story. In “The First Law” the men were under a form of siege — although they were mobile, there was no escape from the outside forces pressing in.

With “White” I wanted to create a real sense of claustrophobia, confusion and fear.

This originally started life as a science fiction novella, with a first line that went something like “Dave Smith was the first human being to die on another planet.” The siege would have- been set up there, the creatures purely alien instead of the more supernatural “things” the whites seem to be in the finished novella. But somehow I just couldn’t get it to work. That first line didn’t inspire me, the idea didn’t sit right, and I put it aside to let the ideas brew.

And when I translated it to Cornwall, everything fell into place.

I had great fun writing this. It became more claustrophobic and intense as I went along, and setting it in a snowbound house added that bit of frisson I was looking for. The main character is under siege from the folks in the house as well as the creatures outside, and I hope that makes it something much more than simply a “stalk and slash” novella. Indeed, quite a few people seemed to like it. It was reprinted in Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror and The Mammoth Book of Best New Horror, as well as being nominated for the International Horror Guild Award and winning the British Fantasy Award.

A complaint I had from a few readers was “So, what the hell
were
the whites?” My answer then and now is,
I don’t really know.
An author under complete control is not allowing for the story to take over. My people in the mansion didn’t know what the whites were, so why should the reader?

Hell, why should I?

Read it for yourself.
Decide
for yourself. And if you think you know, please drop me a line.

The Origin of Truth

Scifi.com, 2000

This is another story that came pretty much unbidden and unplanned. The idea that nanotechnology could run away with itself had been with me for quite some time, and whilst I wasn’t altogether clued up on the science, the images and ideas it conjured were astounding.

I think it’s my first truly science-fictional story, in that the science is researched and, hopefully, the premise is at least possible, if not (one hopes) probable. It’s perhaps one of the grimmest stories I’ve ever written in that there really is little hope for survival from line one, but when the “receiver of knowledge” idea crept in I did see a glimmer of light, the idea that knowledge is available to us all if we’d only be more receptive to it. Knowledge and capability. It’s a pity that humans seem to fight more than forge ahead.

I had huge fun writing this. It was a real challenge because of the mix and blending of ideas, but that complexity made it very satisfying to work on.

And research ... yes, I did research. It’s not usually my strong point, but when I submitted this to Ellen Datlow for consideration for
Scifi.com,
her first response was ..
. prove it.
So I spent some time reading up on nanotechnology, merrily surfing the net, and I ended up presenting a report on the science behind the story. Ellen seemed happy with it, and it was fun to do.

If a little scary ...

Hell

Original to this collection

How many times have you read a newspaper or watched the TV news and thought: “Wow, I’m glad I don’t live there.” I live in a country — Great Britain — where our changeable weather is rarely deadly, civil unrest is usually restricted to drunken gang-fights on a Saturday night, and the scariest wildlife is a vaguely poisonous adder. Even our spiders aren’t that big, and our crime rate, though climbing, is positively pacifistic compared to some countries.

I’m lucky. I think I know that. I see news items about terrible floods in Bangladesh, famines in Africa, wars and plagues and conflicts I cannot comprehend ... and I think myself lucky that my family doesn’t live somewhere like that. What the hell have I got to complain about?

Of course, sometimes I do complain. Don’t we all? But what if I could be made to
see
the people worse off than me,
feel
their agonies,
hear
their pain? Would it make me feel any better?

That’s what “Hell” is. A place of nightmares where people are taken to be convinced that they really haven’t got it so bad.

Like Nolan. His daughter has run off with a religious sect, his wife is dead and he’s plunging into depression. Hell finds him
(you
don’t find
it!)
and takes him on a journey ... during which he sees his daughter crucified on barbed wire.

With “Hell” I wanted to write something fast-paced, full of adventure, a chase story with other layers to it. I hope you enjoy it.

Hope you have fun.

Hope you don’t recognise anyone.

Mannequin Man and the Plastic Bitch

Original to this collection

Now here’s a strange one, I’m sure you’ll agree.

“
Where do you get your ideas from” is the question I hate the most, because a lot of the time I just don’t have an answer. My favourite reply is “No idea,” but that tends to piss most people off, they think it’s flippant and dismissive ... even though, mostly, it’s true. Maybe they’re expecting me to reveal a Source — a book, a website, alien intervention, a plane of consciousness — while in truth, every idea comes from somewhere different and unique, and usually mysterious to me.

This one ... well it may sound shallow, but it came from the title. Mannequin Man and the Plastic Bitch ... sounds like a line from a song. It has a musical lilt to it, something heavy perhaps, thrumming bass and smashing drums. Now what the hell can that be about?

It stayed with me for a long time until I decided to go literal! This is a love story about two people who shouldn’t be able to love, an action story, a tale with what I hope is a strong moral core. It also introduces The Baker, a wacky inventor about whom I hope to find out more in future tales. He doesn’t playa big part here — it’s his memory and his legacy that the Mannequin Man is interested in — but I feel he has many more stories to tell from this strange, near-future world.

And there’s another interesting aspect to having little control over my own ideas. There’s a definite new trend in my later work, especially the two original novella herein: near-future, almost fantastical. “Hell” and “Mannequin Man ... “ could easily be set in the same world (in fact as I was writing them, that’s just what I imagined). And a new novella I’ve just completed for a Cemetery Dance anthology, “In the Valley, Where Belladonna Grows,” is equally fantastical.

Not intentional. It just happened that way.

Why? Where do these stories come from? No idea.

And still, however different the worlds may be, the Ruin is always there. The ills of society, perhaps. The inevitable future. The slide into chaos and decay which humanity faces as a race. Cynical and pessimistic, maybe ... but what better places to tell stories about the triumph of the human spirit?

I hope you enjoy reading these tales as much as I enjoyed writing them. Please, let me know what you think.

And take care.