A Sneeze in Time

(Another throwback story, this one from a CardCaper Monday cycle. Enjoy!)

Allergies are a vicious circle—or do I mean cycle?—a Catch-22 of sneezes, watery eyes, and successive brain explosions that make it impossible to find the little pill you desperately need to help with the symptoms because you dropped it while you were sneezing.

Trust me. I know I’m a mess. I’ve just sneezed, so my cheeks are probably nearly as red as my nose, and I don’t want to look too closely at my desk in the direction of that sneeze, either. My pill is nowhere to be seen, but what can I do? There’s a cat in the office almost as often as the boss is in there: they’re not in today—boss or cat—but the dander is still there, doing a number on my sinuses.

Which means that when a short, adorable stranger comes through the door and leans against my desk to smile at me, his wiles do him absolutely no good. I can’t see him properly, for a start. Secondly, the delectable scent he’s wearing is barely detectable through my stuffy nose.

“I need to have a quick word with the boss,” he says.

“He’s unavailable.” Hasn’t shown up to work: but same difference around here.

Through watery eyes, I think I see his eyebrows rise. “Ah, not in. You’ll let me have a quick peep in there, won’t you? I just need to take back the book I loaned him.”

“No can do,” I say, blowing my nose. “No one is allowed in the boss’ office.”

“I won’t tell him if you don’t,” he says, perching on the edge of my desk and looking at me through his lashes.

Now he’s just annoying me. “I just sneezed there,” I tell him, tossing my used tissues into the bin.

The smile goes down a watt or two, but he doesn’t slide off the desk. Instead, he leans forward, invading my personal space. “Be a darling,” he says, eyes glittering at me through his lashes. “You can come in with me.”

The scent of him tickles my nose. Oh, what a shame, I think, in the brief moment I have to think coherently: I’m allergic to that lovely scent, too.

Then I sneeze all over him.

He goes absolutely rigid, eyes wide with surprise rather than outrage, and says eventually in a hushed sort of voice, “But I’m wearing my nicest perfume!”

“That’s nice,” I say. “I’m allergic.”

He blinks. “Oh. That makes sense. I didn’t think I was usually this resistible.”

“Why are you really trying to get into my boss’ office?”

“Two reasons,” he says. “First, your boss has been either criminally or unbelievably inept with his books—and given the fact that he’s vanished on the day I come calling, I’m guessing criminally.”

“Great,” I say. I mean, I knew he was a bad boss, but I’d just thought he was incompetent. This was going to be bad for me, especially since I was stuck in the office.

“Second,” he says, sliding off the desk at last. “I wanted to see how well you do your job. I’m from head office.”

He passes me his credentials, beaming, and I check them. They’re legit, which could mean I’m in trouble for not letting him in. Still, he doesn’t look like he’s annoyed: His eyes are still twinkling.

“Are you part of the furniture?” he asks.

It could sound bad to someone who doesn’t know I’m a genie, but I am technically a part of the furniture. “Yes,” I say.

“Which part?”

I don’t have to tell him that—anti-discrimination clauses in the contract, etc.—but I find myself saying, “Guess.”

He grins at me, an adorable three-pointed thing above his brown, pointy little beard.

“I think we’ll get along well,” he says. “If you do the same kind of job for me that you did for old El Gato, there won’t be a problem. Sneeze on all the people you want—I liked that. Very effective.”

Then he turns and trots away into the office, and for the briefest moment, I hear the distinct tap of hooves as he crosses the wooden threshold.

My own eyes widen. No wonder he’s so used to women doing what he asks them to do! I’ve gone from having a cat as a boss to having a goat.

I mean, it could be worse. At least I’m not allergic to goats.

Resurrecting (ha!) an old story: DEAD MAN WALKING

(this short was written as part of a challenge AGES ago and it’s been a bit cleaned up now so i wanted to share it again. enjoy! beware blood and guts and lots of stabby moments)

He wasn’t any deader than usual.

I mean, sure, he was dead. His head was barely attached by a few wet strings of whatever-the-heck, and floating in a pool of blood so warm that it must have been pumping through his veins just moments earlier. No, Roman was about as dead as you can get. It’s just that after a bloke’s come back from the dead half a dozen times, you start getting a bit cynical.

I kicked him a few times to make sure anyway, which turned out to be a bad idea because his head fell off all the way.

“Mongrel!” I said gloomily, more as a general swear than at him in particular. Roman doesn’t like me really swearing. “Blood on me jacket again!”

I crouched by the pool of blood and pushed his head back toward his neck. Nothing happened, but I kept it there anyway, ignoring the darker, slicker patches that showed on my leather cuffs. Roman’s not a vampire or anything like that. He just dies a lot. And it turns out that in a world where someone’s always trying to kill someone else, that can be a pretty lucrative talent.

Fingers clawed at my arm. “Water!” rasped Roman, sucking in a gurgling breath.

“Oh, shut up,” I grumbled.

He sat up easily, dripping gore, and ran a bloody hand over his neck. “You’re no fun anymore, ya know that?”

“It wasn’t even frightening the first time.”

“You keep tellin’ yourself that, kid. You get the money?”

“What am I, an idiot?”

Roman flicked me a Look. “You weren’t supposed to break cover this early. I was supposed to take a ride to the city morgue. You should know by now that some of ‘em come back to check.”

“If I sneak into the morgue any more times this year, I might as well install a revolving door. Besides, what were they gonna check? They cut your head off.”

“I remember. Not my favourite way to die, I have to say.”

“Keeping score, are you?”

“Well, at least we got to live the high life for a while,” said Roman, shrugging. “And the Client paid well, so we should be comfortable for a while.”

“Where are we going this time?”

“Heard a rumour of some kids like me, up in Melbourne. They call ‘emselves Gamers. Maybe we’ll go there for a while.”

“More like you? Together? How’d they find each other, the White Pages?”

“Internet, kid. What are you, ninety? And you found me.”

“Yeah, but I’m not special,” I argued. I just like hanging out in morgues. “It was an accident. I dunno, Roman: a bunch of ‘em together, dying and coming back to life? We really wanna be in on that?”

“Bigot,” said Roman, grinning. “Hey, the Client’s little friends left a machete behind.”

“I’ve already bagsed it,” I told him. “You got the crossbow last time.”

“Possession is nine-tenths of the law,” said Roman. He was closer, of course.

I darted in front of him to get it first, and a sharp noise cracked through the air. Something punched my chest, hot and cold and powerful, and spun me away from Roman.

“Ow!” I staggered, shocked at the suddenness of it all. “Mongrel! What was that?” My knees gave out, sprawling me in Roman’s blood. Only it couldn’t be his, because his was over there… “Oh heck,” I said, and my voice sounded thick, as thick as my blood. “I’m gonna die.”

I saw a confusingly sideways montage of Roman dashing at the shadows on the other side of the street, a shard of light glinting in his hand. Gunshot split the air once again, then four times in quick, frantic succession. I heard a heavy, wet, smacking sound, and the client’s head somersaulted through the air, rolling out of sight down the bitumen.

“Baby, you still with me?” There was Roman again. I must have lost a piece of time, or consciousness, because he was holding me now; holding me too tightly with arms that were wiry and uncomfortable. I wasn’t used to being this close to Roman.

I snuffled a sick laugh into his shoulder. “Guess we asked for too much this time, eh?”

“His mistake,” said Roman, eyes like flint. “Police’ll get a body this time after all.”

“Two,” I said, snuffling again. “Reckon I should have picked you up from the morgue after all. Heck, Roman, it hurts!”

There was the stubbly warmth of his cheek against my forehead. “I know.”

“Money’s in the station lockers,” I said to the growing void. “Number seven this time.”

“Don’t be like that, baby,” said Roman. “We’ll get it together.”

“You suck at lying,” I said. My heart ceased to beat, the silence of it ringing loud and sudden in my ears. Light and consciousness slipped away.

…darkness…

…darkness…

I woke, gasping and flailing, to a feeling of claustrophobia and the smell of plastic. My hands slapped against thick plastic above and around me, and I felt the sharp teeth of a metal zipper on my fingertips.

A body bag. I was in a body bag.

But that was Roman’s trick! I had been dead. So very, very dead.

Breathing too quickly, I struggled with the zip, tugging at it with my fingernails until I’d made an opening big enough for my hand to slip through. I emerged into bleach-scented chill like a butterfly from its chrysalis and looked wildly around.

“Well,” I panted, into the cold silence of the morgue. “This is a twist.”

Villainously good fairytale retellings!

I have been busy this year! What with finishing up the City Between series later this year and joining a semi-secret fairytale retelling collective series, I’ve been madly typing away in my little lair (as well as getting stomach flu twice, busting a rib and making a tiny hole in my lung).

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Now it’s time for the semi-secret series to become public! I’ve partnered with eleven other fairytale authors to bring A Villain’s Ever After to you guys: a series of fairytale retellings from the point of view of the traditional villain. Cover reveals start today (they’re all over Twitter, FB, and Instagram atm) and will continue to be revealed at a rate of one per day.

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https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0957GR8BT


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In the meantime! We have a giveaway for everyone to enter! See below for the terms and prizes!

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a Rafflecopter giveaway

These are a Few of my Favourite Things: Monsters and Music

It’s finally happened again! I found a K-Drama that I love enough to want to enthusiastically recommend it to all and sundry despite its (very few, very small) flaws. It combines two of my favourite things: monsters and great music–and is therefore more greatly beloved. I’ve tried to figure out exactly why it is that I love monster stories So Very Much–is it the high stakes? the way pretence is stripped away from real life so that only what’s real remains? the different ways characters are able to show bravery? the way monsters are usually combined with real life?–and I still don’t have real answer.

All I know is that by the time the camera was panning over the breath-taking sight of monsters free ranging in the cityscape outside the apartment block where our heroes are trapped, with Imagine Dragons’ Warriors howling in the background, I was well and truly hooked. I already knew it was my bag–monsters!–but I hadn’t expected how very good the sound track would be. I’m currently writing to that soundtrack most days; it elevated an already amazing series from being heart-wrenching and thought-provoking to breath-taking and tear-inducing as well.

What is this glorious series, you ask? It’s the Korean series Sweet Home, the first season of which is on Netflix and has ten hour-long episodes. I’m currently waiting with bated breath to know that there will be a second–and for those who, like me, may not be able to wait, it’s based on a webtoon that actually is complete. Whether or not you can find it in English, however, is entirely another matter.

the basic premise

The residents of Green Home Apartment Building wake up one morning to discover that the lower floor is entirely shut up; lock, stock, and barrel. They can’t get out.

Someone unknown, for reasons unknown, has separated the residents of Green Home from the world outside, and they have no intention of letting them get out. The half of our protagonist group that is on the bottom floor spend almost the entire first episode just trying to get out and then discovering that…maybe they don’t want to.

Up on the higher floors, the other half of our protagonist group, comprised of a suicidal young man, a gangster ballet girl, an actual gangster bloke, and the coolest old bloke with a hard-wired crutch are all variously discovering that something big and nasty and bloody is roaming the halls. And that something may have come from one of their apartments.

To my joy, there are as many female as male characters, and they are all people! Not all strong in the same way, but allowed to have their own story in their own way. I loved being able to contrast the physical strength of one of the girls with the mental and spiritual strength of one of the others. Unlike many kdramas, the female characters aren’t relegated to the background, and they aren’t forced to be butt-kickers to be acknowledged.

the monsters

Don’t get me wrong. The monsters are both amazing and terrifying: I caught my breath several times, something which rarely happens with me. They were very well done in terms of CGI in my opinion.

However. The most terrifying thing about these monsters is that they were each, one and all, once humans. It’s not too much of a spoiler; you discover it pretty quickly. But this chilling fact leads on very quickly to another discovery–namely, that anyone in the building is liable to turn at any minute, and no-one knows why, or how, or if it can be stopped. Is it infectious? Is it rage? Can it be stopped once it starts? What does one do in order to survive and protect the people one loves when one of the group starts to turn monster?

As Twenty-One Pilots says in Ride— “Would you ever kill?”

That’s the truly terrifying proposition here.

the problems

For me, there are very few problems with this series, but there are a few problems. The first one is that if you don’t care for bad language, you’re going to have to look away from the screen a few times. The translation team often translated an f-word where one didn’t exist, but every now and then it didn’t translate one that was there, so it runs fairly even. There is definitely bad language in this one, and slightly more in English than there would be in Korean, due to some of the swears being automatically worse in English than the Korean counterpart.

The second problem is all with the editing: there were several episodes where it felt as though a chunk of story was just…missing. Characters got from up on the top floor to the bottom floor with no problem and no onscreen representation of the same, although we know it’s hard and dangerous to do it. Little things didn’t quite match up. At first, I thought this was a clue, and due to a few different things that also might have been clues, had a conspiracy theory to go along with it: turns out it was either just bad editing or perhaps there are cut scenes after the credits that Netflix cut off before I saw them. I’m going to do a rewatch so I know which it was.

overall

This was a solid, riveting watch for me: I finished it in a few days, even trying to pace myself. It wasn’t just that it was solid: it caught my heart and soul and dragged me in, made me love the characters, and killed some of those characters. No one is safe from death; no one is safe from turning monster. No one knows what will happen.

And I loved every gloriously soundtracked second of it. 100/10 recommend. (BTW, check out the Imagine Dragon’s song I linked above: it’s also a trailer for the series, and it’s a pretty good indicator of what to expect.)

New Cover and two sales!

We’ve got a new cover for BETWEEN WALLS, guys! I’ve been waiting eagerly for this since I uploaded the interim cover. Ain’t she a beaut?

In other news, I’m running a 60% off sale on the complete SHARDS OF A BROKEN SWORD over on Smashwords, where you can get whatever eformat you read for whatever ereader you have. ($6.99 down to $2.79). Sale ends September 23rd (click on the image to find it).

King Markon’s son, Prince Parrin, is afflicted by a nasty curse that brutally attacks any woman with whom he so much as flirts.
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When the crafty Prince Akish attempts to rescue Princess Kayami Koto from a dragon-guarded and enchanted keep, it seems only sensible to bring his own dragon.
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Dion ferch Alawn must gather all the shards of the Broken Sword that will unite her country and save her world.

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I’m also running an all-retailer 99c sale on the first book in my Time Traveller’s Best Friend series in preparation for the publication of the third book at the end of this month.

Meet Marx. Meet Kez.

Marx is a small, angry man with a time machine and a chip on his shoulder. Kez is a homicidal little girl with a price on her head and a penchant for kicking people where it hurts the most.

Stolen time craft, shadowy corporations, and the odd goat shed or two can be more deadly than you think… 

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Sale ends on the 6th! Available on Amazon, Kobo, Barnes & Noble, iBooks, and Smashwords.

Look forward to the cover reveal for the third book–I’m certainly excited about it!

What’s new?

Not too much, to be honest. I mean, I updated the Upcoming Releases page here on the blog after a timely request from a reader about a month ago (which was not addressed in an equally timely fashion, as you’ve already probably guessed, since I’m only updating it now…) It does mean that you can check out what new books are upcoming, though!

The Facebook page is getting up to 1k likes, which is of course both new and exciting. The followers count has been over 1k for a while, but I wanted to wait to celebrate until the like count was there, too. I’m running a poll over on the page right now to pick the world in which to write the celebratory novellette I want to write. Make sure to have your say in that 😉

I’ve also started a group over on FB for people to discuss W.R. book worlds with more privacy: lately we’ve been discussing the City Between Psychos, but there’s been a fair bit of discussion about the ongoing Cinderella Must Die chapters, too… It’s the place to go if you want to ask a question about the book worlds, want to know if anyone shares your particular theory, or just want to find a good book buddy.

(If you want to join Denizens of the Weird Worlds of W.R. Gingell, make sure you answer the security questions and agree to the rules; you’ll be automatically okayed if you do).

Fortunately, the one thing I don’t want to see new (virus cases in Tasmania) has been the one new thing I haven’t seen. Here’s hoping that holds true.

And here’s looking forward to the new chapter of Cinderella Must Die that’s coming in the next edition of the WR(ite) Newsletter!

Decompressing and Recalibrating

I’m going to assume that most of you already follow me on my FB page, Instagram, or through the WR(ite) Newsletter, but just in case you’re new here–hi! I’ve just recently returned from a nearly 5 month exile in South Korea due to the sudden explosion of C. Virus around the world two weeks into my holiday. What was meant to be a four week holiday turned into a 5 month adventure, and I’ve just gone through two weeks of quarantine in Sydney, only to do another two weeks here at home.

as you can see, the dogs were flatteringly glad to see me…
(jk, they were insanely excited and then insanely tired)

So I’ve been doing a lot of decompression (letting go of Korean habits and societal mores and trying to get back into Aussie ones) and recalibration (mostly of my stomach, which does NOT like the fact that I’ve stopped eating Korean food and started eating Western food again).

On the bright side, now that my stomach is starting to recover, I’m back into my regular writing schedule (I had to bribe myself with stickers, but it WORKS so WHATEVER). It’s been weird to get used to living with people again, and by and large I’ve been walking around feeling like I’m in a bubble and the world isn’t quite right.

At the same time I feel that I’ve been gone no time and all, and gone for such a long time. I feel like I came home, but that I had to leave home to do so; I left quite a large piece of my heart in Korea when I came back.

Not to worry: I’ll collect it next time I go back, Lord willing…

it’s called DECOMPRESSION, not PROCRASTINATION

In the meantime, I’ve started a campaign of decompression that includes copious amounts of tea, finally putting Machinarium onto my new computer so I can play it again, and making (very short) TikTok videos to make sure I keep practising my spoken Korean through the week.

And best of all, most of this can be done in front of the fire, which is a relief since I came from summer and was dropped right into the depths of Tasmania winter…

Here’s hoping that everyone is staying sane in quarantine, lockdown, or whatever the heck is going on in your life. And here’s looking forward to the day when we can all go out travelling again safely!

Until then, wear a mask, drink lots of water, and “run mad as often as you chuse but never faint!

i mean can you REALLY drink too much tea…?

W.R.’s Guide to Taking Holiday Pics

You’ll kindly note I don’t say good holiday pics. IANAP (I am not a photographer) so I can’t promise anything. But as I started learning how to take pictures as well as learning what sort of pictures I like to take, I developed a kind of process. This is my guide: enjoy!

#1 Just Take The Photo
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You see the shot, but you’ve just walked past. Someone has just come out of the house next door and is staring at you. A huge group of Korean tweens has started up a selfie group right next door. A creepy bloke has been following you down the street for the last two blocks.

Okay, apart from that last one (in which case I advise you to keep moving toward more people); just take the photo. You won’t come back this way again. I mean, you might, but you probably won’t. You’ll never get a second chance for that photo. Take it. Wait for the tweens. Ignore the person and his dog; they don’t care about you, they’re just starting ‘cos you look different. Walk back a little ways.

Just take the photo. Take it like you’ll never have another chance to take it, because you probably won’t.

#2 Take Your Time
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(kinda cheating: someone else took this. BUT WE TOOK OUR TIME I ASSURE YOU)

That dude watching you; the group of ajummahs about to pass between you and your shot; the chilly breeze; the vanishing light. Forget about it all for just five seconds. Take the shot like you’re using a film camera and only have one shot to get it right. (If you’re me, that’s how you’ll be doing it).

Take your time. Take a breath. Get the shot.

#3 That Photo Probably Isn’t As Good As You Think It Is
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It might be. But depending on how much practise you’ve had at turning an opportunity into an actual shot, you’re probably going to have to try an angle or two before you find the best one.

I’ve had a bit of success in taking the shot with my iPhone first, and seeing how the angle/shot composition works out. That works up to a certain point: photos on your iPhone and photos on a film camera are going to look different. But it helps you get a handle on what’s going to look nice, and you can practise composition/framing, etc along the way.

The other thing I do is just keep the camera to my eye and move a little before I take the shot. Try a different angle. Move to the left or right. Go down on one knee like I’m proposing. After a while, you start to get an idea for how it’s going to turn out, but I still advise taking a few moments to decide whether that shot is as good as it is in your mind–or how to make it that good.

That’s it for W.R.’s Holiday Photo Guide (yanno, until I actually learn more about what I’m doing). Happy March, and here’s looking forward to April, with more photos to come!

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