Anyone who bothered to read this site before may notice the change of name.
That's right, it is now 'Neff.' Or I should say it is once again 'Neff.'
Long story and it all ends the same, so I will spare the details. Needless to say, I now have much more time for my writing, and have delved into it oh-so-deeply. Nothing like a little conflict in your own life to spur on the creative, cathartic juices.
That said, I have a list of projects that I am working on, and am trying to get published by one of the "Big Houses" in order to earn myself a little street-credibility. That said, I am seeing there is a lot of merit in the self-publishing route, through digital channels. Not that silly vanity press bull, but actual sales via Kindle, Nook, iBook, etc. I am playing with the first option, and writing a few little stories to experiment with on Kindle. Yes, these are all in progress. I'm a naughty kid (If you believe in that sort of thing, I am also a Libra. Supposedly we are extremely good at concept, and equally atrocious at completion).
Novels:
Umbra (A Post-Apocalyptic Mystery)
Dross (Eschatology in a Fantasy Setting)
The Opal Necklace (Alternate History/Fantasy)
Short Stories:
The Adventures of Ennid the Havoc (Belly of the Beast, Time After Time, For The Love of a Pearl) (Adventure - of course - Fantasy)
The Falconer and the Wolf (Fantasy Romance)
Clones are People Two (Sci-fi)
The Othermen (Classical Sci-fi)
Into the Water Deep (Adventure Sci-fi)
The mini-project is an anthology of Flash Fiction, to which I will post a link when I have it published.
Oh, yes... I really, really, really want to do a fanfic story for EA's underrated "Undying" title. I even have a (droll) title for it: "Undying Legacy." I don't know how well that would go over with any publishers out there, seeing that I went "playing in someone else's world," but I had most of it written before I read somewhere that it's a no-no and I could be treading on some very special toes. The storyline, after all, was written (or at least made more coherent and relatable) by Clive Barker, of whom I have been a fan as long as I can recall. I would prefer not to insult him.
Showing posts with label Clive Barker. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Clive Barker. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
A Second Chapter for the Undying
Imagine if you will, a place of great evil, a location so drenched with an immortal, demonic being that its horrendous power reached out across the waters and poisoned the hearts and minds of countless monks and an group of mischievous children dabbling with the occult.
Clive Barker's Undying is by no means a new game, entering video game reality in 2001, on Saint Valentine's Day, no less, with a doughty protagonist aiming to help his old World War I friend investigate -and hopefully end- a deep family curse.
While quite a few of gamers out there might argue that the graphics and game engine don't hold up to today's standards, I argue that the story is transcendent as opposed to flashy-but-droll games that sparkle for a little while but whose light does nothing to warm you. Undying doesn't just warm - it still holds a blowtorch on your soul.
That said, if you are truly interested in the game, plenty of resources exist to explain the first-person-shooter, survival horror, timeless gem that is Undying.
My point here is to create a formal request to revisit this game and give it a sequel. So many requested a reboot, but some things should remain immune from Do-Over Syndrome (how many movie remakes are there which are horrifying flops compared to the originals?) We can go the safer route and ask for a second story for Patrick Galloway, his further travels into the realms opened up by the insanity of the Covenant family. What really happened when the men in black robes found him and drug him into their boat? Where did they take him?
Like any fan, a few ideas are swirling about in my noggin on what became of dear old Patrick, and whether or not he remained a pure soul in light of all the atrocities around him.
In general, I oppose fan fiction, if only because too many out there in this world use it to craft ridiculous Mary Sue characters and twist and manipulate the original author's vision until the story is a muck of ridiculousness, banality and porn. These writers seem compelled to turn their 'favorite' characters into something they are not instead of staying true to what made them love the character in the first place (sadly, this is probably true of their real lives, trying to turn someone they fell in love with into this sludgy, stereotypical highly-sexualized version so they may gratify themselves and are shocked when it doesn't work because that 'other' is actually an 'individual' who has wants and needs of their own, which is why the first party is falling in love with a fantasy and turning it into porn... and the vicious cycle continues...). Among the muck piles, however, there are a few gems here and there who strive to advance the story(ies) we have all come to love and do so in passably good fashion.
As I am dreaming up a little story of my own to answer some of the questions about the Standing Stones and the fate of Patrick Galloway in order to break my own rule and play around with a little fan-fic in time for Halloween.
Clive Barker's Undying is by no means a new game, entering video game reality in 2001, on Saint Valentine's Day, no less, with a doughty protagonist aiming to help his old World War I friend investigate -and hopefully end- a deep family curse.
While quite a few of gamers out there might argue that the graphics and game engine don't hold up to today's standards, I argue that the story is transcendent as opposed to flashy-but-droll games that sparkle for a little while but whose light does nothing to warm you. Undying doesn't just warm - it still holds a blowtorch on your soul.
That said, if you are truly interested in the game, plenty of resources exist to explain the first-person-shooter, survival horror, timeless gem that is Undying.
My point here is to create a formal request to revisit this game and give it a sequel. So many requested a reboot, but some things should remain immune from Do-Over Syndrome (how many movie remakes are there which are horrifying flops compared to the originals?) We can go the safer route and ask for a second story for Patrick Galloway, his further travels into the realms opened up by the insanity of the Covenant family. What really happened when the men in black robes found him and drug him into their boat? Where did they take him?
Like any fan, a few ideas are swirling about in my noggin on what became of dear old Patrick, and whether or not he remained a pure soul in light of all the atrocities around him.
In general, I oppose fan fiction, if only because too many out there in this world use it to craft ridiculous Mary Sue characters and twist and manipulate the original author's vision until the story is a muck of ridiculousness, banality and porn. These writers seem compelled to turn their 'favorite' characters into something they are not instead of staying true to what made them love the character in the first place (sadly, this is probably true of their real lives, trying to turn someone they fell in love with into this sludgy, stereotypical highly-sexualized version so they may gratify themselves and are shocked when it doesn't work because that 'other' is actually an 'individual' who has wants and needs of their own, which is why the first party is falling in love with a fantasy and turning it into porn... and the vicious cycle continues...). Among the muck piles, however, there are a few gems here and there who strive to advance the story(ies) we have all come to love and do so in passably good fashion.
As I am dreaming up a little story of my own to answer some of the questions about the Standing Stones and the fate of Patrick Galloway in order to break my own rule and play around with a little fan-fic in time for Halloween.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Halloween Creeps Near
Autumn ranks as my favorite season for the perfect temperatures (warm days, easy-to-sleep cool nights), the gorgeous re-gowning of the trees in fabulous colors and the fun, family-oriented holidays of Halloween and Thanksgiving.
I'm a little more homesick now, since living in a Metro area I miss out on a lot that happens in an more agriculturally-oriented locale like my hometown in Southcentral Pennsylvania. Farmer's markets abound with the bounty of the harvests, and the products that rely on those bounties - apple cider, pumpkin pie, candied yams. Thinking about all of this is making my mouth water and I am going to have to get home as soon as possible before I miss out on all of my mother's wonderful baking, recipes handed down from our Pennsylvania Dutch ancestors.
But back to Halloween... Mom brought me up in a Christian home but she didn't deny me the fun of the holiday that so many would shun because of its (now mostly forgotten and what kid thinks/cares about these) associations with devils and demons and witches. I remember dressing up as Buck Rogers (yes, I know, boy's costume but I didn't care), an Indian girl (yes, I know, not politically correct), Cheetara (yes, I know, goofy cartoon. But that one got the most compliments, as well it should, since I had three family members working for days to get everything right) and a ninja (yes, I know... oh, wait, what should I know? Ninjas are frikken awesome!).
My gal-pals and I from middle school would get together and have a sleepover after terrorizing the neighborhood in our varied getups. Eight or nine of us girls crammed into the living room of one of our homes, to watch all of the greats like Dawn of the Dead, Halloween, Nightmare on Elm Street, and we did a lot more laughing than spooking out as we drank can after can of Jolt Cola. Hyped up on caffeine, we would try to freak each other out with the creepiest ghost stories, which usually just turned into descriptions of gore-fests not much different from the movies we watched.
Halloween speaks to me differently now, as I enjoy it more vicariously through the younger nephews and nieces, and I do look forward to the day when I get to take my own kids around the neighborhoods for some "Trick or Treat." If some ridiculous politicians haven't banned it by then, at any rate.
But, to tie this in with writing, the stories... those stories stuck in my head, not so much the gory ones but the creepy ones that tickle your imagination in the dark, and not in a good way. They fed my passion for others like them, ones written, and I discovered Stephen King (who can write wonderful horror outside of some of the more gory episodes), and Clive Barker, and learned to appreciate the classics like Shirley Jackson's "The Lottery," and the varied crypterpieces of Edgar Allen Poe.
Fall will always enchant me, such a magical time of year, and I can only look forward to the burst of creativity exploding like the colors of the season.
I'm a little more homesick now, since living in a Metro area I miss out on a lot that happens in an more agriculturally-oriented locale like my hometown in Southcentral Pennsylvania. Farmer's markets abound with the bounty of the harvests, and the products that rely on those bounties - apple cider, pumpkin pie, candied yams. Thinking about all of this is making my mouth water and I am going to have to get home as soon as possible before I miss out on all of my mother's wonderful baking, recipes handed down from our Pennsylvania Dutch ancestors.
But back to Halloween... Mom brought me up in a Christian home but she didn't deny me the fun of the holiday that so many would shun because of its (now mostly forgotten and what kid thinks/cares about these) associations with devils and demons and witches. I remember dressing up as Buck Rogers (yes, I know, boy's costume but I didn't care), an Indian girl (yes, I know, not politically correct), Cheetara (yes, I know, goofy cartoon. But that one got the most compliments, as well it should, since I had three family members working for days to get everything right) and a ninja (yes, I know... oh, wait, what should I know? Ninjas are frikken awesome!).
My gal-pals and I from middle school would get together and have a sleepover after terrorizing the neighborhood in our varied getups. Eight or nine of us girls crammed into the living room of one of our homes, to watch all of the greats like Dawn of the Dead, Halloween, Nightmare on Elm Street, and we did a lot more laughing than spooking out as we drank can after can of Jolt Cola. Hyped up on caffeine, we would try to freak each other out with the creepiest ghost stories, which usually just turned into descriptions of gore-fests not much different from the movies we watched.
Halloween speaks to me differently now, as I enjoy it more vicariously through the younger nephews and nieces, and I do look forward to the day when I get to take my own kids around the neighborhoods for some "Trick or Treat." If some ridiculous politicians haven't banned it by then, at any rate.
But, to tie this in with writing, the stories... those stories stuck in my head, not so much the gory ones but the creepy ones that tickle your imagination in the dark, and not in a good way. They fed my passion for others like them, ones written, and I discovered Stephen King (who can write wonderful horror outside of some of the more gory episodes), and Clive Barker, and learned to appreciate the classics like Shirley Jackson's "The Lottery," and the varied crypterpieces of Edgar Allen Poe.
Fall will always enchant me, such a magical time of year, and I can only look forward to the burst of creativity exploding like the colors of the season.
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