#amwriting | The Ferret Files

Tag Archives: #amwriting

The Petrollica Affair (i)

It’s been a while since I last posted anything in the way of creative writing, mainly because I’ve been very busy with the Ferret Files.

Back in the 80s & 90s I used to work in the City doing tech support and installs for a number of different companies. One experience in particular sticks in my mind and that’s the installation at Petrollica, who were a petrochemical dealer based in Mayfair. I’m going to publish Part I over the next few days – see what you think.

The Promise

“So, tell me Bleep, where did you acquire your nickname?”
Bleep ran his hand through thinning hair, shorter than when we’d last met, now with a hint of grey around the temples. “Really mate, you don’t remember much do you? I’m a recognised black-belt at swearing in every continental language. Back in the day they used to call me ‘Monsieur Bleep’ in France and ‘Herr Bleep’ in Germany.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely! It’s only Mister Bleep in England, mind. In Ireland they call me Sweary O’Bleep and over the borders it’s Bleepy McSporan. Babyface was the first one to recognise my unique talent. You remember Babyface?”
“Yeah, I remember Babyface,” I said reminiscing, “but only just.” Truth be told, all I could remember of the baby faced one was his pug nose, childlike grin, squeaky high voice and that one curly lock of annoying hair atop his head which was destined to be forever out of place, no matter what he attacked it with. Everything else was an out-of-focus blur. “I met him twice,” I continued, “the second time was his unofficial leaving do, which happened a week after I joined. After that, everyone was actively encouraged to forget him, which they quite happily did.”
“Babyface left because he didn’t want to manage you,” quipped Bleep, his dark brown eyes flickering playfully. “And who can blame him?”
“What about you? You left at exactly the same time. Rumour had it you both eloped in a sloppy gay lovefest.”
“Now there’s a story,” mused my friend, draping his scuffed and worn duffel coat across the back of a chair, plonking his bum down.
“You made a promise,” I half complained.
“I haven’t forgotten.”
I removed my own jacket and placed it on the back of a chair at right angles to Bleep. “I think I did a rather splendid job of tracking you down after so long. That’s got to count for something.”
“OK, I guess you deserve an explanation – I did sort of drop you in it.”
“You kid me not,” I said, straddling the seat. “Get your mate a fantastic new job and then vanish a couple of days after he starts with no notice or forwarding address. That’s hardly cricket.”
Bleep looked down guiltily. “I don’t suppose you’d like to hear tales of Brussels? I’ve only just got back from a lengthy assignment there. Some very, very good beer, brewed by some very, very strange monks.”
“Absolutely not.”
“I figured that might be the case.” Bleep removed a packet of trademark gold carton cigarettes and regaled himself with an ashtray. “Before I tell you in lurid detail exactly why I was forced to leave the Bwain Consortium, answer me this: have you ever heard of Petrollica?”
“Now there’s a name that could bring any meeting to a close in under a minute. I used to mouth it in those boring sales presentations that Reg held every quarter. Worked like a charm, sent him packing and running for cover every time, without fail.”
“Not surprising, mate. If only you knew.”
“I assume that’s what we’re here for. I have no idea why ‘Petrollica’ inspired such a reaction, just that it did. One of the support guys taught me the trick, but he was new and he didn’t know why it worked either. And neither did the guy who taught it to him.”
“Have you ever read the Installation Report?” asked my pal, cracking open a new pack of golds, discarding the wrapper randomly on the table. “Duty frees. Another of the joys of working in Brussels.” As Bleep carefully withdrew a cigarette, badly bitten fingers chewed to the quick, I caught the whiff of freshly minted tobacco, causing my own demons to briefly cackle awake and assume the position.
“I searched high and low,” I said, doing my best to ignore the lure of tobacco, “every filing cabinet including the special blue ‘confidential’ one which Reg kept securely locked.”
“Depends on who you know.” Bleep gave a smug grin and flipped a cigarette into the side of his mouth, in a well rehearsed motion. “Did you look in Reg’s secret safe?”
“The one with the broken lock hidden behind the picture of him with the Queen? Of course I did.”
“That’s his ordinary safe. I mean the safe hidden behind that safe.”
“Ah.”
Bleep leaned back on his chair, a rickety affair bandaged together with glue and nails, which had obviously been ritually abused in this manner before, probably by guys much larger than my friend and firestick in hand, sparked-up. “Reg intended that that particular report never see the light of day again.”
“In that case why didn’t he just burn it?”
“I guess he needed to keep it as a reminder of how things once were,” said Bleep nonchalantly.
“How is this related to your sudden departure, mystery boy? C’mon, spill.”
“You’ve waited two years already. Another few minutes won’t matter.”
“We’re in the nineties now, 1990 and a half to be precise – that makes it four years.”
“Four year, schmore years. Go on, get the beers in before the barman comes over to have a word. If you want to know about the Petrollica Affair and how it forced me out the company and later the country, you’ll have to get me proper drunk first – which will take approximately six pints of strong beer and a couple of B52s. Have you kept the afternoon clear as suggested?”
“One till four, review meeting with external supplier.”
“Congratulations,” grinned my pal, throwing a brochure down on the table. “Here’s your sales pack, I declare the meeting over. Let’s start the drinking the traditional way with a pair of pints each. I’m hearing good things about the Testicle Roaster, allegedly it’s as lethal as a barrel of pythons fitted with vibrating butt plugs. I’m afraid I’m fresh off the plane with a pocket full of Belgian Francs, so you’ll have to buy.”
“On one condition.”
“Such as?”
“Cigarette. Now.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything, but I knew you’d crack eventually.” My friend smiled, handing me the pack.

Tags: #amwriting, blog, comedy, computers, creative writing, ENTERTAINMENT, fiction, geek, Information Technology, IT, paranormal, strange tales, urban fiction, workplace humor, writing

Comments Leave a Comment
Categories Information Technology, Petrollica

The Daniel Day Lewis Method of Writing

19 Feb

Here’s a question for you:

An addictive substance yesterday

Your hero has a cocaine habit. In order to appreciate his/her viewpoint, do you seek out the drug and take it as part of the writing process, or do you simply imagine what it might be like when you write about it? Do you talk to known users as part of your research? Equally, when it comes to preparation, do you simply read about it in the press and make it up, or do you try it yourself?

Drugs are one of those things that are illegal, but a lot of people participate in – hence my question, which really boils down to this: for the sake of authenticity, is it important for you as an author, to know about what you’re writing about in detail? And if so, where do you draw the line?

It’s possible to become a drunk for a night, or a week as part of your research. You can even sleep rough if you want. You can develop a cigarette habit until you cough, and know what it’s like to hack one up every morning. All this is perfectly legal. Then we come to the illegal – joints, lines and injections, each increasing in addictive qualities and physical effect. If you try something once and don’t like it, what do you do if a regular user tells you ‘you gotta get a habit man, to appreciate it’?

Then there’s the question of murder. Obviously I’m not advocating killing others in the name of authenticity, but is it something you might consider?

The question is open to the floor: how far are you prepared to go?

Tags: #amwriting, blog, blogging, creative writing, ENTERTAINMENT, fiction, novel, Research, urban fiction, writing, writing tips

Comments 7 Comments
Categories Writing Tips

It’s a Pope-ish Kind of Day

11 Feb

There are two words which the media frequently like to misuse, which really wind me up when I hear them, in a spitting feathers kind of way. People who work with me regularly soon stop misusing these words, because they know what’s coming if they do!

Pope John Paul II Pontificating

The first word of the day is to pontificate. The clue as to what this word word means is in its first half – pontiff. The ‘cate’ ing of a Pontiff – what does this mean? It’s like the ‘tate’ ing of a cogi (cogitate), but done at a much higher level. When a mere mortal chooses to think something over, that’s what we do – give it a bit of a mull, rattle the old six-sided brain cell around inside the skull, see which side it stops on, forget what we decided because it doesn’t really matter, then move on. When a Pontiff chooses to think about something, he does so with god on his shoulder, in an ineffable fashion. What comes out after his communion with god is infallible, and has been since 1870 when the First Vatican Council decreed it to be so. Unlike the rest of us, the Pope can’t break a few balls or enter into banter over the communion wine (in Latin, presumably), because anything he says is true and can’t be questioned, except by god himself. If the Pope tells you to ‘go f*** yourself’, not only must you do so, you must also be capable of doing it, because he can’t be wrong.

This is what an online dictionary has to say on the matter: http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/pontificate. Apparently, the ordinary man in the street CAN now pontificate. However, I disagree! Pontification is reserved for the Pope and possibly the Queen, as supreme head of the Church of England. Since the schism, we need a different word – the ruling monarch of England ‘Majecates’. It’s a new word, so don’t go misusing it.

No Decimation Here

The second word of the day is to decimate. Whenever anything is destroyed, be it crops, people or things, there are those out there in media land who commit the heresy of declaring it’s been decimated. OK, I’m not the Pope, so I can’t really declare the misuse of this word a heresy, but you get the idea. Decimation was a particularly cruel punishment carried out on a unit of a Roman Legion when it under performed. The unit was divided into groups of 10 and lots drawn at random. The unlucky one was then clubbed or stoned to death by his fellows. Now, I’m all for a bit of decimation, provided it’s done by 10,000 of the general populace on 1,000 well chosen bankers and politicians, without the drawing of any lots at all. A field of wheat toppled in a storm comes nowhere close to a 1,000 heads on poles.

Here’s what Wikipedia has to say about decimation: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Decimation_%28Roman_army%29.

One of my Catholic friends has a particular favourite, which is epiphany, the common phrase going something like: ‘I had an epiphany the other day’. Epiphany is either a religious holiday (6th Jan) or a book of the bible, it’s not a thing in itself. The state to which the word heretics refer is a theophany, which is the appearance of god or a god to a person, and the realisation that follows. A conversation may or may not be involved. Every time the Pope pontificates, he undergoes theophany. When he tells you to ‘go f*** yourself’, what you undergo when you realise that this entails chopping bits off to fulfill the request is also a theophany and not an epiphany.

If you really want to wind me up, the sentence to do it with goes something like this: When I was pontificating I had an epiphany that that crop decimation was carried out by locusts, not by flying cats after all…

Tags: #amwriting, blog, blogging, comedy, creative writing, ENTERTAINMENT, geek, humor, writing, writing tips

Comments 1 Comment
Categories Writing Tips

If your BLOG was a comic what MIGHT it look LIKE?

3 Feb

I was messing about on the web the other day when I chanced to come across a site called Pulp-o-MIZER, which threatened, with a bit of my time, to turn my idea into a classic comic book cover. So here goes with The Ferret Files:

Pulp-o-Mizer can be found here: http://thrilling-tales.webomator.com/derange-o-lab/pulp-o-mizer/pulp-o-mizer.html

Go have some fun and please – mail me your art!

Tags: #amwriting, blog, blogging, comics, creative writing, fiction, gaming, geek, paranormal, stories, strange tales, writing

Comments Leave a Comment
Categories Ferret Files

The Morality of Super Powers

25 Jan

Super Powers – wah hay!

Here’s a question for you: if you had a super power that allowed you to influence the outcome of situations in your favor, without other people knowing, would you do so?

Secondly, if you had the opportunity to use your power to create a personal fortune, with the intention of having a good time, would you still do so?

This is the central dilemma facing the hero in the Ferret Files. He’s let me know in no uncertain terms that he doesn’t want to give up the booze & cocaine lifestyle…

I look forward to reading your replies

Tags: #amwriting, blog, consultant, creative writing, ENTERTAINMENT, fiction, geek, humor, paranormal, strange tales, superheroes, urban fiction, writing

Comments 1 Comment
Categories Ferret Files

Location Scouting for Bunkers

24 Jan

In the last few days I’ve had a bit of a locations ‘mare, in that I’ve got action happening in a government establishment that’s strictly off limits to the public. Unless you’re a really well known author with connections, how do you write about such a place without ever having been there?

Grrr! Communications, Soho Square

My locations scouting for the Ferret Files to date has consisted of Google Earth, Google Maps, public transport and my legs. I’ve set the majority of the action in London, with some of the defence industry shenanigans taking place in Bath. Having worked in London on and off for most of the last 20 years, I know the place really well, above and below ground. I had a mental list of places I wanted to use, well before I began the project, some of which are well known, others not so. I have a keen interest in architecture and that includes burrowing, as in the creation of underground tunnels and complexes. If there’s a London tour which takes in tunnels, chances are I’ve been on it. My fundamental belief is that it’s not possible to get the vibe of a location if you haven’t been there. And by been there, I mean recently. If you don’t experience the vibe firsthand and lock it in, chances are your readers will notice, especially if they follow your characters around.

A Boris Bike Yesterday

I live in Bath and have done for 12 years. I’m just nutty enough to commute to London on a daily basis, which is OK for a short period, provided the end destination is near to Paddington. Last year, I spent 8 months in the capital, living in hotels. That allowed me to revisit all of the places I wanted to use, in my spare time. One day, I needed to check out Regent’s Park, and let me tell you – it’s a long walk around the perimeter. That’s when I used a ‘Boris Bike’ for the first time. As an author wanting to get the feel of an area, the Boris Bike is an absolute boon. It’s faster than feet, allows you to cover an area quickly and when you’re done, the bike is no longer your problem! Thanks Boris!

My method of working, then:

Get a general feel for an area using Google Earth or Google maps
If there’s a building of interest, research it on the net, especially its history. What was there before?
Go visit and employ your author senses to spot those interesting details that others miss.
If you can get inside, do. These days, with security, it’s a lot more difficult than it used to be, but a mixture of cheek and charm works wonders. I’ve been really fortunate, in that I work in IT and often get sent to random locations. If I end up at one that’s interesting, I’ll use it.
Take a paid tour. The London guides are really knowledgeable and they’ll show you things you’d otherwise miss.

The Secrets of Porton Down

Back to the original question: given that I’m an eyes on sort of guy, how the hell do I get inside of Porton Down, in order to write about the chemical and biological weapons research that took place there? The answer is to use your imagination. I’ve driven past Porton Down many times, but never actually been inside. I have been to a dozen military bases scattered across the South West and Salisbury plain, during my time working in Defence, on a 6 month contract that lasted 12 years.

I love being around the military, they have a great mindset and an insane sense of humour. They work on the premise that being underfunded, stuff will break or fuck-up – that’s life, get on with it then communicate the fix. For Porton Down, I know the sort of people who work there from my visits to DSTL in Portsmouth, I know that stuff broke or went wrong. So I’m going to concentrate on the historical screw-ups that got us to where we are in the story, rather than precisely how it all looks. All of the military bases I’ve visited in the South West are similar in design, so a generic bunker will do.

When all is said and done, I’m writing a conspiracy novel. Anyone wanting to locate the exact bunker where the chemical experiments into psychic phenomena took place won’t be able to find it on a map. Surely, that’s because the government buried it? Or could the real reason be that I have secret inside knowledge of a black project, communicated to me by a scientist who worked on it and I’ve purposefully moved the location from nearby Boscombe Down, in order to throw the reader?

You’ll have to make your own mind up on that…

Tags: #amwriting, blog, creative writing, ENTERTAINMENT, fiction, location scouting, locations, novel, Research, strange tales, urban fiction, work, writing, writing tips

Comments Leave a Comment
Categories Writing Tips

Those Duvet Moments

16 Jan

In the last three months of 2012 I pulled together the plot for the Ferret Files, working it out end to end, including Bios for all the main characters, their drivers and story arcs. I patted myself on the back for a job well done and then sat down to write the damn thing.

Let me tell you, ‘sit down and write’ is not as easy as it sounds.

I didn’t know it was going to be so difficult when I started. Having followed #amwriting and #amediting on Tw@tter for some months now, I’m certainly not alone in my aspirations and frustrations. Some days I just need to stay under the duvet; even the smell of freshly brewed coffee on the stove, wafting up the stairs can’t drag me to the keyboard.

I started out full of it, word count was everything. The higher, the better. Then I decided I’d rather write 1,000 good words than 10,000 bad ones and slowed down. What’s a good word? Shedopsycodelaphia is a good word (I made that one up, BTW). However, if I write it 1,000 times, it doesn’t make my work any better. Eventually I concluded that a good word is a word in the right place, which looks right, feels rights and sounds right when you read your work aloud, in character. Similarly, bad words abound when nothing reads right, feels right or sounds right when you read your work out. If you, the author become bored and start looking out the window, counting sheep, before you get to the end, it’s time for some serious editing.

How do you start?

Those are where my duvet moments come in. The first time I refused to get up to the sweet smell of brewing Bourbon (my blend of the moment) the missus thought I was stricken with the lurgy. The truth is, I was buried beneath the duvet, deconstructing the work of others, to figure out how they’d done something smart with their plot or revealed a certain character trait.

I started out life as a programmer, back in the days when 4K was a lot of memory. In order to become better at my job, I spent weeks hacking away at other people’s code, deconstructing what they’d done, in order to sharpen my own skills. I found I work best this way. Having someone tell me what to do, then repeating the exercise doesn’t make stuff stick in my brain, not in the same way that taking something to pieces and then putting it back together does.

Those duvet moments are important to me. I don’t tend to read books anew, I choose something I’ve read before and I like. Then I put my analysis head on and read it in a different way, almost as an observer rather than a reader. How did they disguise that twist? How did they first make me dislike that character? When the plot took a turn of speed, how did they stop it from flying off the road?

I find that when I’m reading in this manner, my unconscious mind starts to shift my work around. This bit belongs here; that bit goes there. It’s like a gigantic mental jigsaw puzzle, as the pieces rearrange themselves in my head. It’s enjoyable, it’s work, but it doesn’t necessarily look like it to an outside observer.

There are many ways of getting better and this is one of mine. Once you’ve done the best job you can, then comes the really scary bit: showing your work to others. That’s a whole new blog entry.