A number of my friends and literary contacts on the web have been emailing me the last few weeks asking "when is Angels of the Revolution coming out? You used to say on your blog here it would be 'later in 2012', and now it's 'to be published 2013' you sneaky bastard. What's the hold-up?"
I am a slow writer. I have been working on Angels of the Revolution for the last seven years or so. This is despite the fact that it is not a large book (about 61,000 words). Before that, I was working on another novel (also about WWI and the German Revolution -- a 190,000 word monster) which I had to put away for various reasons, but to which I hope to return. In the meantime, Angels of the Revolution should be out within the next few weeks.
It is very interesting, as one approaches the end, just how many little details there are to attend to. For example, one wants to get certain historical bits right. Also, I have been negotiating with various places about the rights to use certain pieces of art or photography for the front cover. But at this point, the expense and the limitations placed on these images would seem to indicate I must get my cover elsewhere.
Original Caption: How Germany is being disarmed. These planes are waiting to be scrapped.
Monday 26 August 2013
Saturday 24 August 2013
THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE STASH
It is a little unusual but by no means unheard of for a Lefty like myself to be engaged in the hobby of plastic model building. In particular, most of my subjects are military (planes, ships, tanks, etc.) and I am in particular a confirmed "treadhead" in that I build armoured fighting vehicles more than anything else.
I doubt anyone has collected stats on the politics of military model kit builders, but I would be willing to bet their politics range for the most part from the political center off to the Right.
So what is this "philosophy of the stash"? you ask. Those of you already into this hobby, whatever subject you specialize in, know what a stash is. It's that collection of "shelf queens" or kits that you buy intending to build some day. And in some instances you really do build them, perhaps until they are done. Or perhaps you just get half way through and lose interest. My own personal record for length of time to finish a shelf queen is about 10 years or so so. This was a 1/700 scale model of the King George V, one of the battleships that was involved in the hunt for the Bismarck.
But my approach to the stash has changed. I estimate I have a stash of about 2 to 3 dozen unfinished kits. This is by no means a large stash, as those involved in the hobby can tell you. Some kits I may have bought a few weeks ago, others years ago. I used to fight relatively resolutely the expansion of the stash. There was no use, I thought, in buying kits I did not finish. This was especially so since what tends to happen is that once you've had a kit for a while, the chances you will ever finish it go down markedly. The King George V I mentioned above was a very rare exception to this.
But I have let my stash grow in the past few years, largely because I said to myself, what the hell, just thinking about and buying these kits is fun. Furthermore, I am something of a "low maintenance modeller" in that I do not purchase "after-market" items, do not own or want an airbrush, and seldom buy a kit priced at more than 40 dollars.
I was a little concerned that the expanding stash would develop into a kind of addiction, or a bad habit, like excessive fast food consumption. I was concerned that the more kits I bought, the less satisfied I would be with each one, and that a cycle of diminishing returns would result: increasing expense, decreasing pleasure.
I still think this sort of thing is possible without a little discipline. But I have found with the expanding stash an unexpected side-effect: my interest in old shelf queens seems to be increasing, not decreasing. I have a 1/700 Japanese aircraft carrier (the Zuiho) I keep thinking about, and a Tamiya T34/76 that I stopped working on years ago but which is enticingly close to being completion and calls to me now and then.
I doubt anyone has collected stats on the politics of military model kit builders, but I would be willing to bet their politics range for the most part from the political center off to the Right.
So what is this "philosophy of the stash"? you ask. Those of you already into this hobby, whatever subject you specialize in, know what a stash is. It's that collection of "shelf queens" or kits that you buy intending to build some day. And in some instances you really do build them, perhaps until they are done. Or perhaps you just get half way through and lose interest. My own personal record for length of time to finish a shelf queen is about 10 years or so so. This was a 1/700 scale model of the King George V, one of the battleships that was involved in the hunt for the Bismarck.
But my approach to the stash has changed. I estimate I have a stash of about 2 to 3 dozen unfinished kits. This is by no means a large stash, as those involved in the hobby can tell you. Some kits I may have bought a few weeks ago, others years ago. I used to fight relatively resolutely the expansion of the stash. There was no use, I thought, in buying kits I did not finish. This was especially so since what tends to happen is that once you've had a kit for a while, the chances you will ever finish it go down markedly. The King George V I mentioned above was a very rare exception to this.
But I have let my stash grow in the past few years, largely because I said to myself, what the hell, just thinking about and buying these kits is fun. Furthermore, I am something of a "low maintenance modeller" in that I do not purchase "after-market" items, do not own or want an airbrush, and seldom buy a kit priced at more than 40 dollars.
I was a little concerned that the expanding stash would develop into a kind of addiction, or a bad habit, like excessive fast food consumption. I was concerned that the more kits I bought, the less satisfied I would be with each one, and that a cycle of diminishing returns would result: increasing expense, decreasing pleasure.
I still think this sort of thing is possible without a little discipline. But I have found with the expanding stash an unexpected side-effect: my interest in old shelf queens seems to be increasing, not decreasing. I have a 1/700 Japanese aircraft carrier (the Zuiho) I keep thinking about, and a Tamiya T34/76 that I stopped working on years ago but which is enticingly close to being completion and calls to me now and then.
Saturday 3 August 2013
TRAUDL THE TRANSVESTITE GOES TO WORK from my upcoming ANGELS OF THE REVOLUTION
I wear a black woollen dress with close fitting sleeves, the dress snug until well down the hips where it flares out generously and swings freely half way down my calves as I saunter abstractedly down the Ku'damm, not giving a royal fuck. I am wearing black leather lace-up boots with a high, blocky heel, and a snuggley little open-bottomed girdle with the French style horizontal boning all down the front that helps keep my thingy from showing without that unbearable gaff. You just can't wear one of those things all day long without going crazy.
I've been smoking Quahff given to me by an excellent friend, another Miss Thing, who's in the dance collective. So I'm somewhat more, shall we say, effervescent than usual. My hair is spiky, black. I've painted my eyes very dark--luscious little Krepplingin! I'm in a really good mood. The sort of mood where things can happen, if only you can somehow grab onto them and ride . . .
They say: your hair looks like you stuck your finger in a light socket. I say: I did. The light socket of Weimarstadt. In fact, I stuck my dick in the open light socket of Weimarstadt. Ka-Bamm! Ravished by a city! And I have come to life like Frankenstein's monster--a beautiful, shock-eyed monster--for the first time in my life. I am Robo-Maria! Caligari's transvestite zombie! Whatever!
I've been smoking Quahff given to me by an excellent friend, another Miss Thing, who's in the dance collective. So I'm somewhat more, shall we say, effervescent than usual. My hair is spiky, black. I've painted my eyes very dark--luscious little Krepplingin! I'm in a really good mood. The sort of mood where things can happen, if only you can somehow grab onto them and ride . . .
They say: your hair looks like you stuck your finger in a light socket. I say: I did. The light socket of Weimarstadt. In fact, I stuck my dick in the open light socket of Weimarstadt. Ka-Bamm! Ravished by a city! And I have come to life like Frankenstein's monster--a beautiful, shock-eyed monster--for the first time in my life. I am Robo-Maria! Caligari's transvestite zombie! Whatever!
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