A Party!

Your ticket to Frank Creed's online book-launch party at SecondLife.com Come meet new friends, win prizes, receive a special offer!
When 7:00 p.m. Pacific, 10:00 p.m. Eastern--Saturday, September 29th.
Where Flashpoint's a cyberpunk novel--the party will be in a 3-D virtual world on the Web, of course! secondlife. com

• If you're not a secondlife member, download free software and register at: http://www.secondlife.com/
• Already a SL'er? Here's the SLurl http://slurl.com/secondlife/Eduisland%204/238/83/25
• Newbie-rookie-cubbie-pups--after you join, simply paste that address in your browser bar. It'll take you to a web page with a map of the area and a link to click. All you gotta do is click it--your SecondLife program will open, you log in, and automatically join the party.
• Frank's SL name is Cal Kidd, and his publisher set him up with a striped-tail fox costume! Just point and laugh.

FLASHPOINT: Book One of the UNDERGROUND
Frank Creed's Biblical cyberpunk/ end times fiction.
Advance orders at thewriterscafe. com, order before October 15, get free shipping and a gift

Coming soon: Forever Richard, Sue Dent's sequel to Never Ceese.
Biblical vampire-werewolf fiction from The Writers Café Press
Advance orders available.
Disclaimer: The Writer's Café Press will not be held responsible for shoppers not wearing a cross.

Flashpoint BookTrailer

Just in the nick of time . . . FLASHPOINT: Book One of the UNDERGROUND has a book trailer. You can view it, if you like, at YouTube.

Thanks goes to The Writers’ Café Press, and to Clank who creates his own "Robo-Mechanical" electronic music, for the use of his awesome BeatWave.

Is it too Edgy? Light at the Edge of Darkness

The new anthology, Light at the Edge of Darkness, has been described as edgy, and in fact is edgy, although that was not the authors' goal. Light gives Christian readers of secular sci-fi, fantasy, horror an alternative: entertaining well-written fiction from a Christian perspective.

The authors of Light write speculative fiction or spec-fic (fantasy, sci-fi, cyberpunk, horror, etc.) that is scripturally sound; it is intended for the Christian audience. It does not evangelize but neither does it cloak Christian beliefs in euphemism and analogy. So, what purpose does Biblical spec-fic serve?

Founder of the Lost Genre Guild, Frank Creed, says this: I'm a longtime fan of spec-fic, especially sci-fi. When shopping Christian bookstores long ago, it didn't take long to realize that there was nothing in my favourite genre on the shelves--so I turned to secular sci-fi. I grew tired of the [often] anti-Christian underpinnings in sci-fi, but the only other option was to quit reading fiction altogether; so I gritted my teeth and ignored anything pointedly anti-Christian. Later, I put my hand to writing sci-fi and fantasy from a Christian worldview. It stood to reason that there were other Christians readers out there who would be interested in a good story that was respectful of Christian values.

Biblical spec-fic, and by extension, Light at the Edge of Darkness, is not white-washed or diluted secular fiction. The good stuff must be able to hold its own as far as plot and characterization goes. It must be "real" in the fictional sense. It must be meaningful. Let's give an example:

"Undeniable" by Canadian horror writer A.P. Fuchs, is horror. It tells the story of a man and son incarcerated in a Chinese jail; the two characters have a choice: renounce Christ or be tortured. These are strong Christians who chose the latter. The torture is palpable and provides the reader with meaningful depictions of the lengths to which the torturers and the strong Christians will go. Without this imagery, it is doubtful that the author would have successfully made his point: how far would you go before compromising your values and beliefs.

"Undeniable" can hold its own in the secular world as quality entertaining horror and at the same time is Christian in nature! Is the violence depicted in this story gratuitous? No. Is it meaningful? Yes. (The difference between gratitous and meaningful is a whole other issue).

Light at the Edge of Darkness contains sci-fi, fantasy, horror, endtimes, time travel, cyberpunk, dystopia and more. The stories are well-written and have been thoroughly enjoyed by fans of spec-fiction. The stories are edgy; they don't succumb to the writing guidelines of the big Christian publishing houses that intimate that their readers are all delicate butterflies who will perish if they read meaningful description--in the words of one large publisher: "sometimes it is better to tell, not show."

The stories in Light do not break this fundamental rule of writing, rather, they are edgy in the sense that they are written from a Christian worldview yet still maintain the writing quality of secular fiction--these writers, along with many others, are edging Christian fiction into something that is real, something that is entertaining, something that is well-written.

If you are a person who does not like the spec-fic genre in the first place, will you like this book? Debatable. Is it fair to judge this book or indeed, a story like "Undeniable" according to your reading tastes? I say a resounding "no." But . . . are Light at the Edge of Darkness and other novels coming from the Lost Genre Guild too edgy? That answer depends on each individual's reading preferences.

--definition and discussion of Biblical speculative fiction can be found at Wikipedia

I'm in a novel!

Great, I am a living being . . . and now people will think I am fictional! thanks to Frank Creed.

Oh yes, better introduce myself:
Mavis Ann Abdullah, though for a number of years I used a diffewent surname: McWavis because "Abdullah" seemed to bother people!

Anyhow, I've twaveled all over the US and the west coast of Canada (my Gwamma and Gwampa live near Vancouver), sometimes Dad (the slave driver) makes me take the wheel. Sheesh. Recently my dad, Fwank Cweed, has started dwagging me to author-events. Guess he needs some kind of prop.

Wecently, I learned from the publisher, that Dad has me as a "character" in his new WIP! Hello? Ever hear of "permission?"

So, for now I will keep my counsel but please help me keep an eye on it, k?

Dad's website: Books of the UNDERGROUND and Frank Creed.com
Publisher's site: The Writers Cafe Press



"Love to eat them mousies,
Mousies what I love to eat,
Bite they little heads off,
Nibble on they tiny feet."
B. Kliban

The Mean Kitty Song

Mr. Safety, Cory Williams posted this video on YouTube a week or so ago and has had +2 million views already!

Debriefing document, Body of Christ in the underground, Chicago Metroplex, October 6th, 2036.

Begin file . . .


Why had an anti-Christian like her risked coming here? Nobody crashes a Body of Christ mission.

I poked my head inside the hallway’s first open doorway and activated my mindware's re-formed sensory perceptions. Nothing. Even the electromagnetic spectrum was empty.

Click. A doorknob’s mechanism popped softly behind me.

I peeked around my door-frame.

A head emerged one-door-down—I fired a snapshot from my com-shades. I ducked back, inspecting the image on my glasses’ heads-up display. It was definitely her.

Footfalls sounded. I ducked behind the door, hooked my sunglasses on my shirt-collar, and peeked through the crack.

She wore a long-sleeved grey thermal-underwear shirt and urban-camo fatigue-pants. An Armalite M6-A1 assault-rifle barrel preceded her into my dark doorway.

I caught her scent as she passed: gun-oil, military-grade wool, and fear. Not fear of a fight—her joints rolled with combat confidence—coiled energy on a mercury switch. This Chica was pure lethal waitin’-to-happen. But we all know that's not what the game’s about. I was here to fight a spiritual battle. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood . . .

I slammed the door and slid along the black room's wall. Mindware switched my re-formed eyes to starlight-intensifying and thermographic modes. She spun and fired a three-round burst through the door.

Light leaked in. The better to see you with, my dear.

From her head's angle, I knew she couldn't see. Her primary sense had switched to hearing.

I closed on her in carpeted silence.

Not silent enough—she swung her chin right at me, pupils fully dilated, blind—her assault-rifle’s barrel followed.

In a single smooth motion I snatched the Armalite from her trigger-finger's pressure, tossed it across the room, and retreated from her imminent strike.

It never came.

Heartbreaker took two steps back, froze in her muscle-memory’s fighting stance, knees bent, hands like blades, chin oscillating her collarbones, scanning for sound-waves while protecting her throat.

Why had she broken-in?

I stalked around behind her before striking. I pinned her arms to her sides and squeezed just under her bottom ribs. Air rushed from her lungs. I used only enough of my re-formed strength to suggest it’s-useless-to-struggle. She knew I could have crushed her ribcage.

After a few heartbeats I felt like a thug. I cautiously eased my squeeze and let her breathe. Still she just stood there. As though this was what she wanted. No, needed.

I relaxed my arms to a mere hug.

She didn’t resist. We were now communicating with body language and her message of this-is-what-I’d-hoped-for came sunlight-through-greenhouse-glass clear.

I eased until my arms merely hung loose around her. I'd left myself vulnerable. She could leg-sweep my knees—I'd only immobilized her upper body—I knew she knew how.

As I withdrew, my hand brushed her calloused palm. On an instinct of its own, it moved to take hers. She reached back, and our fingers interlaced. Our lost-other-hands groped until they met.

Her fear-scent doubled. There was nothing sexual about this. We stood that way for too long, her chest heaving in far-more-air than I'd squished out. She slumped back, tilted back and cocked her head in the dark, questioning me with a look. Her eyes had adjusted.

That's when things went south.

Her knees collapsed, her hips became a lever and she flipped me. My back slammed on thinly carpeted concrete. As I fell she pushed off the floor in an acrobat handstand. Her dangerously-muscled frame twisted gravity like a falling cat. She landed straddling me, every muscle alpha-dog tense, hot breath tickling my ear. "I know who you are!"

"Heartbreaker . . ."

She drew back. "I hate that name!” she hissed.

"Oh-kay!" I overpowered her wrists.

"My name is Lethe.”

I relaxed. She crossed my arms over my chest like a mummy, and then laid over them.

"Lethe, why?"

Her features twisted tearfully; droplets traced down her face.

She finally wilted in dead-wait.

Mindware automatically sorted thirty ways to take-her-down. I pushed them all aside.

“My retirement has been scheduled . . . please, I have nowhere else to turn.” She sat limply up, her face contorting emotions across her face, locking fear, guilt, and hatred back into her soul's dungeon. "It's a matter of life-or-death."

“Lethe, you have no idea.”

*(EPH. 6:12 NIV).

Listen to Episode 8 of Light at the Edge of Darkness radio theater

Episode 8 of the Light at the Edge of Darkness radio theater is ready for download or you can go to the Lost Genre Guild blog and listen to it there (as well as any of the other short stories you may have missed).

This week's episode, "Chosen of God" written by Andrea and Adam Graham: Casino owner A.L. Snyder comes of age in the years of the Empire and must find his place in the world.

A Preview:

“COME ON IN TO Snyder’s Casino, the best place to gamble without going to Reno. Come on in to Snyder’s Casino.”

Snyder put his feet up on the chips counter. He could listen to that all night. The dancing girl quit after a mere two hours of singing that, so now he just played a loop from his radio ad. That had been a calculated risk—Idaho had a law against gambling.

He puffed on his cigar. Not much of a smoker; the cigar just projected the right image.

The sheriff sauntered in. “Got my money?”

Most in these parts had a superstition against the international currency, or rather that trading in it required a computerized ID tag embedded in the right wrist. Irrational or not, who could resist the big bucks available tax-free on the underground market?

He pulled out a pile of silver from beneath the desk and slid it across the counter. “Here.”

The sheriff pocketed the archaic currency. “Mind if I play a few?”

“Sure.” Snyder opened his drawer and handed the sheriff fifty red chips. “First fifty dollars is on the house.” He’d have his silver back before dawn.

Thank God Mama Borden still lived in Boise. He’d disappointed her enough without the casino. Still, for a high school dropout who chose enlisting over the pen—and got court-martialed three years ago to boot—he hadn’t done half bad. Most twenty-two-year-olds he knew were up to their noses in debt and bussing tables, or something equally glamorous.

Chico ran in. “Boss, someone outside wants to see you.”

“Tell them to come in.”

Chico frowned. “He refused to enter a place that hires Spics.”

Snyder reached under the counter and grabbed his old friend Colt.

The scent of fear poured from Chico. “Hey, Boss, you promised your old woman—”

“—I’ll try and be peaceful.” Snyder slipped the gun inside his coat. “But it doesn’t hurt to be prepared to speak a language he’ll understand.”

Lost Genre Tour in Aiken, SC

WEEKEND SUN & READS

Aiken, SC

A few of the Lost Genre Guild members converged in Aiken, South Carolina this weekend in the latest stop on the Lost Genre tour: Susan Kirkland and Donna Sundblad from Georgia, Sue Dent from Mississippi, and yours truly, Cynthia MacKinnon came from Indiana with The UNDERGROUND star, Mavis.


The event was held outdoors in the beautiful town of Aiken as a benefit for the widower and children of Melissa Bernard who recently passed away after a brave struggle with cancer. (The photo to the right shows Donna, Brian Bernard and Susan Kirkland. Brian and Susan are wearing the Shalom! t-shirts that were made to show support for Melissa's battle with cancer.)


It was no chore at all to sit in the shade of oak and pine trees on a beautiful day. Spirits were high and despite other big events occurring in this town at the same time, there was a good turnout for the book basket raffles and book signings. Two reporters from different area newspapers were on hand; Suzanne R. Stone's article appeared in today's Aiken Standard. Each of the authors present had a successful day signing and selling their books—proceeds from which went to the Bernard benefit. (Sue Dent and Donna Sundblad at the book signing table).


The book basket raffles were a huge success as well. Autographed books were donated by many authors, including A.P. Fuchs, Jill Elizabeth Nelson, Donna Sundblad, Sue Dent, Michael Vance, Caprice Hokstad, Rachel Thomson, David Brollier. Also donated were some lovely illustrated prints of writer John's poetry. The Writers' Café Press donated copies of Light at the Edge of Darkness to go in each of the dozen or so adult-oriented baskets, plus other Light items, Starbucks products, and items for 4 kids baskets. A local store made a wonderful donation of a couple of pet baskets as well and Christian Fiction Review Blog founder, David Brollier, also donated a great number of bestsellers (in a box so heavy I had a hard time carrying it out to the car)!

All-in-all, the event raised over $1500! which was a pleasant surprise to all of us. The best thing about the event, however, was meeting on-line friends in person and meeting the friends and family of the Bernards'. Us out-of-towners were given hearty welcomes and treated like part of the Aiken family. I think I speak for all of Lost Genre tour members in saying that it was a pleasure and a joy to be part of this event.

Frank Creed: Feature Author on Yellow30 Sci-Fi

As ya'll know, Frank Creed's FLASHPOINT: Book One of the UNDERGROUND is due for release at the end of this month.

Well, Frank is Yellow30 Sci-Fi 's feature author for September! They have an interesting and often humourous interview with Frank and of course, you can read Y30's review of Flashpoint on their site as well (page 2 of "Footnotes").

Go see what you think!

While you are there, check out Yellow30 Sci-fi's whole site. There is a wealth of great information on speculative fiction!

www.yellow30scifi.com

www.frankcreed.com

Bernard Fundraiser

Anyone live near or around Aiken, SC?
Come on by the O'Dell Weeks Activity Center between 10am and 4pm and say hi!

Members of the Lost Genre Guild, Christian Fiction Review Blog (CFRB) and The Writers' Café Press have joined together under the leadership of author S.M. Kirkland to organize a benefit.

"Weekend Sun & Reads" was organized as a benefit to help the widower and children of the late Melissa Bernard. More information about the Bernard Benefit can be found in an Aiken Standard article (Monday, Sept 3, 2007) or check out the poster.