Tuesday, 10 February 2009
Yes, I Know, I'm Sorry...
It's been a busy couple of weeks, and a few people have contacted me to ask where I've been. To be honest, I really don't have much of an answer. I should probably make up something cool and exotic to start building the Awesome Legend of Cy (TM), but the simple truth is that I've been writing.
I know. Shocker.
The scripts for the later issues of Slaughterman's Creed and The Case Files of Harlan Falk are all coming together nicely and I'm eagerly anticipating the final few pages of Cancertown art from Stephen Downey. Scott James' Falk pages are the best work I've ever seen from him (and that's saying a lot), and I've been working with Ben MacLeod on that short story I mentioned a while back for the next Layer Zero anthology from Insomnia.
Oddly, it looks like I'll be putting in an appearance of sorts at the Essex Book Festival next month. Not quite sure how that happened or what I'm going to be doing there, but apparently there's a life-size standee of Cancertown denizen, Crosshair involved. Rock! Here's a quick peek at the adorable little scamp, for reference:
In other news, I note with some amusement that yet another internet searcher has made its way to my website in hopes of locating a "Starship Troopers Sex Part" (note the singular this time). I wonder if this is the same questing soul who was looking for similar items previously, and now finds itself in need of just one more. Or maybe it's someone new, someone who heard that Starship Troopers Sex Parts were to be found here and, not being greedy, only wanted one.
I've made a mental note to add one or more Starship Troopers Sex Parts to the site, because there is clearly some obscure demographic that the rest of the internet simply isn't catering to and that's a damn shame. Besides, I've got dozens of the things lying about the place anyway and I'm really not using them for anything constructive. Well, I've got a Starship Troopers Sex Part propping up a wonky coffee table in the lounge, and there are a couple more I'll probably hold onto for purely sentimental reasons, but I could certainly spare one or two of the older ones if they'll ease the suffering of some poor sod out there.
Well, gotta go. That scene where the creepy imaginary guy starts cutting off the kid's fingers isn't going to script itself...