AUTHOR SHOWCASE

This month the Author Showcase is proud to present stories by Geoff Nelder, British author of horror, mystery, mainstream and thrillers. Some of his fiction can be seen on the BeWrite website, including his controversial Table Manners and more is for sale (with a free tester story) on HorrorMasters.com where one of the stories has been optioned by Hollywood just this week. He is also the writer for an experimental Internet sit/com. Despite his busy, busy writing life, he agreed to this interview for Eros. Two of his short horror stories directly follow the interview, along with a list of some his novels, novellas and stories. If you’re interested in reading any of them, please drop a line to me at nomadagain2000@yahoo.com and I’ll get a note off to Geoff the same day.

EROS : When did your passion for writing begin?

GN : I made up stories as an infant and wrote them in an exercise book, however, I didn't realise people liked the way I threw words together until a teacher taking a group of us sailing said: Come on Geoff, tell us a good 'un. It's the only reason I bring you!

E : WHAT TYPE OF BOOKS DO YOU WRITE?

N : I'm a really wicked novelist. The scourge of many agents and publishers. Why? Because my thrillers are cross-genre, braided with humour. There again, are they really adventures? I ask because I don't know how many thrills a thriller is supposed to have per page. Some have so many your head is spinning by page ten with all the car-chasing, plane-falling, rocket-exploding, nuclear-detonating house collapses while my hero is still sipping his cup of tea. I call them thrillers because a proofreader once told me he was thrilled to see the next one. I am working on a science-fiction but it is more of a mystery set in the near future than weird monsters.

E : Are your thrillers plot driven or character driven?

N : They start off plot driven. I wake up with a head full of plots each morning but once the main characters are slotted in, they take over, grab hold of the plot and throw it back in my face.

E : How do you get your ideas for your books? And how do you choose one over another to actually write?

N : Even though I do not eat cheese, I have vivid dreams, some of which suggest a gripping tale. Other ideas come from overheard or misheard fragments of conversations on a bus, a newspaper account triggering synapses shouting: Hey, if they had done this instead... Then I go for long walks and cycle rides. Whether its the solitude or increased oxygenation of my rattling brain, whatever, ideas pop in and with luck don't pop out until I screech to a halt and scribble it down.

E : When you write a book, do you follow a routine? Are you disciplined with a schedule or do you just write when the mood strikes?

N : I try to write at least 800 new words a day in addition to revisions. I do more when it’s raining. I can't stick my face into the PC for hours on end. I must be hyperactive because I need to leap up now and then and do something completely different.

E : How long does it take to write a book?

N : Almost exactly two years each. I had a full-time career until last year but even now when I can spend more day time writing, I find I just take longer on research, writing short stories, critiquing other writers' work, so it still takes two years!

E: Do you outline or no?

N : I do kick-off with an outline and sometimes even a diagram but the novels have a mind of their own and push the outline around. (I nearly said push the envelope but I avoid cliches like the plague)

E : Do you research and if so, how much?

N : It must be the ex-school teaching geographer in me but I love the research. Like everyone I mine the web but it doesn't tell you what Mallorca smells like or how the locals sing, laugh and swear. So a cheap flight later there I am, on a bike, risking death on the roads, getting arrested for being too inquisitive - you know.

E : What do you think is your greatest strength as a writer?

N : Probably my zany plots and wicked humour.

E : What’s the worst experience you’ve ever had as a writer?

N : Being strongly advised to slash 20,000 words from a 126,000 first draft. Now it is down to 95,000 and the better for it but the wallpaper peeled from the cussing at the time.

E : So then, what was your greatest experience as a writer?

N : Holding a hard copy of my first published book - even though it was only a local information booklet on Huddersfield's changing climate published by the local university.

E : What advice would you give a newbie?

N : Give up! I can do without the competition. I suppose the PC advice is don't give up in spite of the knockbacks. Read a good how-to-write book. I recommend any of the Sol Stein's Solutions For Writers.

E : How do you prepare for a writing idea for fiction? Do you outline the characters, setting, plot, etc. before you begin to write?

N : Yes, I kick around a number of outline scenarios but the originally popped-in-my-head idea usually wins. We all have to have OTT characters but I like them to change : become more assertive or less manic as the story unfolds. The places are researched with maps spread out on the floor after inspiration from holidays, other fiction, TV travel programs and plundering webcams.

E : How much time do you spend in marketing?

N : Apart from a coffee-table book on Chester's Climate I self published, I haven't needed to market my own work.

E : Do you have any marketing tips for writers? Can you give us one?

N : Get to know prestigious reviewers and sleep with them. Either do something bizarre or make someone associated with you be newsworthy. Marry someone rich. Failing those and other foolproof methods get yourself about on writers' websites, enter short story competitions and attend writers' functions such as Lit Fests and conferences. Apart from the gradual exposure and "name familiarity" you generate for yourself, there is a heck of a lot to learn from other writers.

E : Do you feel you have found your voice? Or do you think there is more than one voice?

N : I didn't think I had a distinctive style until recently on an authors' chat. I made up different avatars and pretended to be odd characters but was found out in double-quick time by people who'd read my stuff and recognised my off-the-wall humour. I can't help it.

E : What kept you writing early on when faced by rejection slips more often then acceptance letters?

N : Mainly knowing about success stories in the face of adversity. Such as Catch-22, which was rejected by 21 publishers and another of my favourite books, Robert Persig's Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance was rejected 121 times!

E : Have you ever suffered a serious case of Writer’s Block? Is so, how did you get yourself out of it?

N : I don't recognise Block, never had it. Maybe it's because I always have four or more projects on the go simultaneously so I switch around. Having web friends to virtually bounce off each others keeps the motivation bubbling too.

E : How many times do you rewrite before submitting to a publisher?

N : I cringe at reading my early work even though they were revised three or four times. We all have dynamic styles changing as we improve and as the media requests it. Two years in writing means the beginning is written slightly different from the last few pages and so needs revising. I have to keep switching styles in my head too : fantasy requires the sort of descriptive phrases considered anathema to hard-nosed crime writing and I do a bit of both.

E : Do you have an agent? Do you recommend agents and if you do, why?

N : A good agent finds markets, is trusted by publishers and can be a worthy writer's friend. Many publishers will not consider a new author's submissions except through an agent. I had an agent years ago who was not so helpful and I’ve just taken on a new one. I am optimisitc.

E : Is a lot of your material in the short stories autobiographical? I’m thinking particularly of the cycling stories because you’re quite the long distance cyclist, aren’t you?

N : Umm I have to be careful answering this one in case my wife is watching. I suppose an element of the author's own life's experiences and emotions are in the protagonist and to an extent that is true of Escaping Reality. As for Hot Air, the protagonist is a feisty hot-blooded young woman! But you are right, when I get a real buzz out of something such as freewheeling down a steep hill on a falling-apart brakeless bike I have to let readers share it too. The same goes for when I find out how to break into houses, survive winter treks over moorland, fight muggers in Amsterdam and make love on bubble-wrap!

E : Why haven’t you ever enter the Tour de France cycling race?

N : I entered the whore de France and that's as close I got. I do longish distance cycling but slowly. If I started two weeks before Le Tour I'd finish in time to come in with the stragglers the following year.

E : How would you characterize your writing? And where do you hope to be with it in 10 years time?

N : I don't know how to characterize my own writing - it's not something I do to myself. Another writer describes my stuff: "What an amusing little wander through the subconscious, Geoff. Here I learn from you yet again." "Great suspense. And funny, too. perfect combination." "Bizarre yet all around us, how do you do it?" In ten years time I would like to have had at least six novels published, a film or two on the go from them, the Internet TV sitcom I'm working on to have been transmitted and ongoing.

E : How has being a sitcom scriptwriter affected you?

N : I can't watch sitcom TV the same. I count the seconds between change of view (about 5 seconds). I count the gags per minute and check they haven't pinched mine. Equally, I note down good gags and ideas to use myself! I've been told some of my short stories behave as if the reader has a shoulder cam. In Camera Shy - http://www.bewrite.net/free_fiction/humour/camera_shy.htm - there is a chase in central Paris and into the Metro just as if it was a fast action movie. I had no idea! The wonders of the subconscious.

E : What else do you love besides writing and cycling

N : OK, I really get a huge buzz scrambling over mountains and hills. Not the swinging by my fingertips under overhangs but just being in a wild scape out-of-sight of the trappings of civilization. Even on this overcrowded island it is quite easy to get away from people - most don't like moving more than a few minutes walk from their cars. Having said that, the experience is enhanced if you can share it with someone. I also like painting in watercolours or acrylic though I have had little time for that for a few years.

E : Can you kind of describe this first short story, Vampire Quid Pro Quo for us?

N : It shows some lateral thinking, originality and the sort of idiocy of which I am capable. And it was my lovely, wonderful daughter, Eleanor Claire Nelder, who was the inspiration and co-idea generator of the story!

********************************************************************

Vampire Quid Pro Quo

By Geoff Nelder

Claire felt her eyes dropping. It could have been the heavy text on probability theory sliding down her lap, or the rhythmic swaying of the subway train. Her daily commute between north and south London allowed her to make some headway towards her insurance career qualifications.

Plunging into a tunnel raised the ambient clackety-clack and dimmed the lights. Suddenly the carriage lost its illumination completely accompanied by a communal groan. Not a rare event but sufficiently uncommon for Claire to have the jitters especially when her elbow was roughly nudged by someone filling the seat next to her, trapping her coat. As she pulled, the overwhelming aroma of liver and onions made her nose pinch forcing her to turn her head away.

She felt a beard brush her stretched neck, stopped pulling at her coat and pushed him away. Flickering as if they couldn't make up their mind, the carriage lights reactivated in time for Claire to catch the black-coated tall silver-haired man leave for the next carriage. He appeared to be spitting into his handkerchief while pulling a pained expression.

**

Marinated tofu stir-fry with Arborio rice made up Claire's dinner. Although her favourite meal and cooked to succulent perfection – accompanied with a fine Spanish Rioja – her palate felt distinctly odd. While preparing coffee Claire felt an itch on her neck and her fingers found two punctures with slightly raised edges. An avid reader and cinema goer, she knew the symptoms. Her body temperature fluctuated wildly but her brain shut down giving her an easier sleep than she should have had.

In the morning, before catching her tube train, she allowed her chestnut hair to escape their usual formal style to flow around her shoulders, hiding her neck.

She felt nervous but not surprised when a tall man wearing an oversized black coat sat next to her and simultaneously opened his Daily Telegraph, as if he was to read it, while emanating hostility to nearby passengers who abruptly felt the urge to leave.

The deep voice resonated: "You are my latest recruit."

"I don't think so."

"Last night, didn't you have a sanguineous thirst?"

"I don't think I should be talking to you and I've no idea what you are talking about."

"I think you do, Claire."

"How do you know my name?"

"There are few secrets from me. Now, back to your culinary intake. Did you notice how you licked your lips more when you ate your meat last night?"

"Hardly, I'm a veggie." She looked at his face. It was white yet suddenly became paler.

"But you can't be!"

"Why not? There are millions of us, you know."

"I'm able to tell. I was able to tell. It could explain why something tasted odd yesterday..."

"So, does that mean my metabolism has rejected your disgusting germs?"

"I'm not sure. It's never happened before. I'd better go."

**

After a few days the prevalence of the incident faded. Claire's job involved her day time and her attempt at extra qualifications occupied her evenings. Her boyfriend, Adam, was in Cyprus on a programming contract job but due to fly home for a dinner party at his parents at the end of the week. She was assured by Tim's mother it would not go like the last time.

Tim's mother had said: "Hello Claire, sit here sweetie."

She suspected they had forgotten her non-carnivorous diet when the meal arrived in tureens rather than on plates.

"I'm sorry, I have a bit of an upset tummy. Please excuse me." Bad move.

"Well, I'm not surprised," said Tim's father. "It must be because you never eat anything that hasn't looked over a hedge." He had laughed so much. Tim's mother looked pained. Claire could feel the poor woman's anguish as her memory cells clicked. At least it wouldn't happen this time.

A green salad. Not even any nuts to add protein and essential oils. Adam sat on her right preparing to wolf down steamed Italian beef-tomatoes surrounding a braised lamb's liver casserole. Claire couldn't help herself. Her fork quivered then darted out, jabbed and withdrew, loaded. Adam and his family, their own forks hovering in front of their open mouths were transfixed. Claire, her mouth dripping red, looked round at them, not in the least embarrassed.

"What? I love tomatoes."

The next day, Adam took Claire to the Speedy Gloop to stoke up on energy levels before an evening of bowling. Not a big fan of fast food, Claire made exceptions where the salad bar offered a huge array of brightly coloured fresh succulence. Her dish already pyramided and overflowing, she couldn't pull away.

"Excuse me, miss," said a red-faced woman who'd followed Claire round the salad-bar a few revolutions. "Would you mind if I went in front of you? I don't like second-hand food."

"What’s she on about, Adam?"

He pointed out a red-pepper with two teeth marks and three deflated tomatoes before dragging her over to their table.

She poked around at her food. Puncture marks? Pretending to wipe her nose with a large handkerchief, she confirmed her canine teeth seemed longer and more pointed than she remembered.

"Interesting colour combination, Claire." Adam pointed at her meal.

She followed his gaze. Tomatoes, radish, red-cabbage, rouge- capsicum, beetroot, kidney and aduki beans with pink potatoes. Strawberries and cherries made up dessert. Her tongue licked the lips of a veggie vamp.

"You think you might have an iron-deficiency?" Adam always looked for the logical solution even in plainly emotional issues.

"Could be."

***

"I need to talk to you."

"I thought you might," she said, as they swayed the tight curve out of Paddington Green. His ashen face displayed worry. Claire smiled at the carriage emptying then at him.

"I shouldn't have chosen you," his bass voice quivered more this time.

"Guess not."

"Has it affected you?"

"Not as you might expect. How about you?"

"That is why I need this conversation. I have feelings of revulsion..."

"I thought that was what you did."

"I've lost the taste."

"That's good isn't it? At least for your victims."

"Without fresh blood I'll –"

"Change?"

"I'll d –"

"Don't say it. Anyway, I thought you were immortal."

"Only if I keep out of the daylight, avoid certain destructive elements and ingest fresh blood now and then."

"You could accept the kind of immortality the rest of us get: through our children, our art."

"No. My time has come. It is a phase change, a transmogrification, a – "

"You're talking gobbledygook again."

"Claire, I've fed on two since I've been poisoned by your blood. They both now abhor meat and cannot take blood."

"Excellent."

"Your facetiousness is misplaced. My powers dwindle. I am the last of my kind I know of in Britain, maybe Europe."

"You must have thousands of um – protégées."

"Few survive more than a month, fewer travelled abroad but most were weak and died. You seem strong."

"I feel absolutely great, never better."

"As I thought. Like I said, you may represent a new branch, a blend of bloods. Not something I wanted to witness but better than extinction."

Claire laughed softly, then energetically. Carriages on both sides, emptied hurriedly.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

back to insights

back to Information page