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The recent 3-day giveaway led to >900 free downloads of Eden's Revenge between US and UK, so around 300 per day for the three days of the sale. In the Amazon-Free category, the book got to #1 in the UK in two categories - alien invasion and space opera, reaching #2 in those same categories in the US. It also got to #25 in science fiction.

So, what does a giveaway bring? Well, first, it opens up the book and the series to a whole new audience - though admittedly many may not read it, or may decide it's not their cup of tea after reading the first chapter. But the chance to outreach to new readers is worth what might otherwise be seen as a loss of potential earnings; there have already been three 5* reviews posted on Amazon since the sale, including one that compares the writing to Frank Herbert's Dune series, with layered plots within plots, surprises and revelations - which I'm very happy about, since Dune was a major influence on my reading and writing, and layered plots is what I go for (because that's how I think the world/galaxy/people work).


It is also a prelude to the imminent launch of Eden's Endgame, the last in the series - I'm just waiting for the release date which I hope to have after the weekend. In the meantime, if even 10% of those who downloaded it read it, I'm happy, because like all writers, I like to be read.

Eden's Revenge is on a free for three days, today (15th December) until Wednesday, so if you haven't read it yet, now's the time to download it for free!

It has already shot into Amazon's top ten Scifi/Space Opera and Alien Invasion categories in the UK, also doing well in the US, and it will be interesting to see how far it goes! This is the first (and only) free sale of Eden's Revenge, following successful giveaways of the previous two books, and is in anticipation of the forthcoming finale of the series, Eden's Endgame, paperback due out at Xmas, the Ebook version shortly afterwards, so there is just time to read this one first...

The Proof copy of Eden's Endgame arrived a couple of days ago, and I just finished reading it for the last time. I made a few tidying-up changes here and there, and have just sent it back to the publisher, so now we will see if it can be ready for Xmas! The Ebook version will come out a few days later, so will probably be out after Xmas but before New Year.

Having read the book many times, it is somehow a different experience holding that first copy in your hands, poring through it and turning over the pages until the very end, the very last word. Am I happy with it? You bet. I love all four books but this one was a real challenge, to tie up everything, to maintain suspense until the end, and resolve everything in a satisfactory matter. So, right now, it's my favorite. I also love the cover, having had the rare opportunity to help design it with the cover artist John Harris.

So, champagne soon when it is launched, and for now a nice strong cup of coffee in my local French brasserie.


P.S.> If you've not yet read the third book, Eden's Revenge, there will be a giveaway sale of the Ebook version 15-17 December US-time.

I received the cover proof for Eden's Endgame the other day - the original artwork on the cover is by acclaimed Science Fiction artist , and it's been nicely blended over the spine and back cover with stars and the ankh symbol, relevant to the entire Eden Paradox series.
The front cover is based on one of the chapters where a mindship called Shiva is attacking the Alician home planet Savange. I sent John some text from that chapter, and he produced��an initial pastel drawing, and then I asked for the towers to be less like battleship towers (they looked a little too human), and to be made more alien. There are also some figures at the bottom to give an idea of the size of the ships and towers.��
Shiva is also pretty important to the entire book, so it felt appropriate she (it's always a she, right?) was on the front cover. A mindship is a sentient ship, and I confess I have borrowed this idea from authors such as Banks and Hamilton, not to mention Farscape!

The ankh symbol relates to the Kalarash, a super-intelligent alien race who don't appear until the very end of the second book, Eden's Trial, though it's significance isn't discovered until book three, Eden's Revenge. However, in the last main chapter of Endgame, yet again the ankh symbol features, in the final battle for control of the galaxy.

I must say it's a rare privilege to (a) work with such an esteemed artist, and (b) be able to direct the cover design for my book. Very happy with the result.

On the back cover I have some review 'blurbs' from three of my seven reviewers: SF author Mike Formicelli, who helped out refining a few of the science aspects (e.g. on Hawking radiation and supernovas), Lydia Manx, long time fan and reviewer for Piker Press, and screenwriter Gideon Roberton. Mike and Gideon in particular gave me some things to think about in the final revisions, which I'm happy to say are now done and dusted!

I'm now waiting to see the sample copy of the book which I should receive in the next week. Then I can add it to the collection and blog the release date of both the paperback and the kindle version.

Several reviewers have said they are sad to see the series end, and of course, so am I. I'm working on new material, though, so expect to see some blogs on that in Spring 2015.


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The proofs for Eden's Endgame arrived last night, so I have about five days to read it��one last time. It's been through seven reviews already so I suppose I should relax. It's a tricky time, however,��as there��is always a temptation to change a few things here and there, but��there's a danger of making last minute��edits that alter the sense and mood built up over the past two years. So, best to read it with arms folded and that red pen just slightly out of reach.In any case, as any author would be, I was thrilled to see it looking like a book, although I've not yet got the full cover and back of the book.��One of the aspects I like most is the font used for the front cover, inside page and chapter headings��- it's called Neuropol. I first came across this font when it was used on the front cover of books 2 & 3 (Eden's Trial and Eden's Revenge), so it is great to also see it inside the book as well. It has a real scifi feel to it.��The book is in three parts relating to three characters: the alien being Kalaran, and the two human protagonists Blake and Micah, though there is a strong flavour of Louise throughout the book; in fact it begins with her back story and explains the trigger event that started WWIII back on Earth, before the opening of the first book The Eden Paradox.The reviews have all praised the action and the scifi aspects of the book, and it's relentless pace; here's what science fiction author Mike Formicelli had to say about it, which will end up on the back cover:From start to finish Kirwan hits hard and doesn’t let up. Eden’s Endgame is the bold conclusion the Eden series deserves! Mike Formicelli, SF author of the Blood Siren series(Thanks Mike!)��As usual with this series the plot is multi-layered, following three main arcs: the galactic war led by the alien Kalaran (supported by Pierre and Jen in particular), the defence of mankind's new home Esperia led by Blake and Petra, and the rescue of the hostages from the Alician��homeworld led by Micah. Needless to say for those who have read books 1-3, these arcs and the surviving characters intersect toward the end of the book. reviewer Lydia Manx has this to say about the book and its structure:The different levels of Endgame are like multi-layered chess �� just when you’re devouring one side of the board you need to switch focus as heroes are lost and villains challenged. I never wanted this series to end!�� Lydia Manx, Piker Press (Thanks Lydia!)Ok, gotta go, I have some reading to do... ��

One of the alien characters fans most talk about is the Hohash. SF author Gary Gibson said he found these hyper-intelligent artifacts one of the most intriguing aspect of the series. The Hohash first appeared in The Eden Paradox. Both their nature and function are initially unclear, except that these autonomous alien artifacts seem to have taken an interest in the plight of humanity. Here is where the Hohash first appears in the book, as encountered by Blake:

The hatch opened, and a pulsing electric blue light washed into the room. Blake gaped as an oval object, half a metre in diameter and about Rashid’s height, drifted into the compartment. Its surface at first reminded Blake of the purple and blue ripples sometimes seen on an oil film stretched across a circular wire frame. Rashid kept his pistol trained on Blake, his arm not quite steady. To Blake, the intruder resembled a mirror, but with a fluidic surface, fractal images swirling, almost taking shape, but not quite. He was unable to focus properly on it. Around its circumference was what appeared to be a tube of gold-coloured metal, about the same diameter as a handrail. It hung thirty centimetres above the floor, all the time emitting a faint sound of water trickling, like a small fountain. It stopped next to Rashid, and then oriented itself towards Kat. Blake realised this had to be alien in origin: not even IVS had anti-grav technology.��
Throughout the next three books the Hohash act as a portal for some of the key human characters (in particular Kat and Pierre) to understand what is going on. It becomes clearer that the Hohash have a pivotal role to play in the ensuing galactic war, though this is not revealed until the end of the final book, Eden's Endgame.

The following short piece on the Hohash, traveling in a space ship with some humans, was sent to me by Ruth Oliver, and is not linked to the timeline of the books. It has some interesting ideas about the Hohash, and their perspective on humanity, and even how they regenerate...


The Hohash allowed a small part of its vast processing ability to leave the confines of the current task and, as these primitive creatures it was currently serving would say, to ‘wander��. The creatures were called humans. They did not require a huge amount of the Hohash intelligence to be used for their rather chaotic needs. The Hohash zoned out from considering them further. Life could be interesting, especially for a species that had travelled numerous universes and had an indefinite life span.
The Hohash briefly checked the background chatter that it was receiving and storing continuously. All Hohash were connected, all the time. One of their prime functions was to record, and so they did. Wherever they were and whatever was happening, this was relayed to all other Hohash and recorded simultaneously throughout the network. Some Hohash had, over time, found themselves (through no fault of their own) embedded in rock where planets had collapsed, or were with their deceased masters aboard drifting space ships in Transpace. It happened. The Hohash as a unit didn’t sweat the small stuff. They all had interesting things to observe even if their own surroundings were rather dull and unchanging.
There was a sudden peak in the data stream from one particular Hohash, in a universe far removed from the one where they had all been created. The Hohash pondered that it would struggle to describe the designations of any individual Hohash to, for example, these humans. When conversing in subspace harmonics and fluid Transpace things became rather too complex for simple speech.
The Hohash considered what its own designation would be (‘name�� seemed rather out-dated and quaint). The nearest it could find would be “Beige Splash��. It wasn’t entirely sure if the words would carry particular meaning or connotations to the humans around it (and as Hohash had not managed to get any understanding from humans when they attempted to communicate the particular sound and light that encompassed their ‘names��, it did not spend too many nanobytes worrying about this. The peak of activity had come from the Hohash designated Pink Stripe. It seemed Pink Stripe was on a ship being sucked into a black hole. All the crew were in panic but Pink Stripe merely observed. Such was the role of the Hohash. Of course they did other things as well: their ability to connect space in novel ways allowed them to provide a method for species to communicate over vast distances via holographic projections. The Hohash could even remove individuals from the ‘normal�� space-time continuum (whatever that was within the universe at that time) to enable time to be stretched, shortened or just generally distorted in whichever way was required in that instance.
The Hohash allowed its focus to return to the current humans it was serving. These slightly odd, rather primitive organisms were not taxing its abilities. Still, somehow there was something rather endearing about them. Beige Splash noted that they had resilience, and a general high level of stubbornness, refusing to give in to the inevitable conclusion of their blink-and-you’ll-miss-it existence. Take this current human. Flint seemed to be the name he was referred to by the others (again, “he�� was a notion that struck the Hohash as rather quaint, given that the majority of advanced organisms soon did away with gender, eventually doing away with procreation as well, as they advanced and their lifespans elongated. The Hohash themselves were untroubled by such issues). The Hohash turned a nanoquint of its processing power over to observing Flint and the current situation. An argument was progressing, and the images that it had been streaming all this time to Flint and the other humans seemed to be the cause. The images being shown were of a fire spreading rapidly around the equator of a planet some three million light years to starboard of the location of the ship they were all aboard. Quite why the burning, or indeed the planet itself �� one of a cluster around a red dwarf that would only be in existence for a further million years �� should excite the humans was not clear. But it was certainly keeping them animated.
There were other undercurrents that the Hohash was highly aware of but that the humans seemed oblivious to. Beige Splash had noted, as had other Hohash, that humans seemed rather preoccupied with mating. Large amounts of time and effort were spent in securing a mate, and the mating process itself. This frequently occurred when mating was mis-timed so would not produce offspring, and even occurred when one or both humans involved were taking steps to prevent offspring being produced. This was totally illogical and a waste of time and effort, as far as the Hohash was concerned. Far from optimum. Still, that could be said for many of the practices of humans.
Suddenly one half of Beige Splash’s neural nets flashed to attention. A message was being received from the Hohash home universe. All Hohash continued their usual monitoring and recording and other activities, but in all of them over half their processes now snapped to focus on the incoming data stream. The information portrayed within the burst of light, radiation and harmonics would have caused instant death to a large number of the organic species the Hohash had met through the aeons, overloading their more primitive information-processing capabilities before they would be aware of what was happening.
The Hohash had been associated with the Kalarash for millennia. This was a mutually beneficial arrangement and had led to them generally being considered to be the property of, and created by, the Kalarash. Only the Hohash knew the truth, and they weren’t about to disillusion anyone, least of all the Kalarash, who seemed convinced of their own mastery of them anyway.
Beige Splash considered the information coming from the home universe. This might require more processing power than was currently available. In a picosecond Beige Splash rerouted non-essential activities to provide the required power. Hohash were recorders. Their purpose was not entirely clear to other organisms but many had deduced this aspects of their role in intergalactic (and indeed, inter-universal) relations. But there was more to it than that.
The images being streamed from the planet had lost interest to the humans, and Beige Splash was alone once more. It decided this might be the opportune moment to disappear. The surrounding view of the interior of the spaceship began to fade and take on a silver sheen, quickly vanishing. In its place the Hohash observed stretching black space, the only sign of possible movement or activity a series of spinning lights in the distance in all directions. This process always made the Hohash slightly disoriented, which is why it was a mode of travel only reserved for times of need. The Hohash noted the lights begin to slow their spin, and the black faded slowly to grey and objects became visible again. It was now standing on a vast platform, floating in pink and grey swirling clouds of gas. The Hohash home universe operated on such a different plane to the human one that Beige Splash paused for a second to wonder what the humans would make of this. Not much, it concluded, seeing as the radiation levels would have caused instant death, not that they would have survived the transport here. The Hohash focussed on what had brought it here. The Call had gone out. A Splitting was coming.��
The Hohash had evolved as a machine-based race here on this planetoid. The rules governing space, time and physics were completely different here to those of the other universes they had travelled to, but one thing they had realised early on was that clear logic and optimisation did not always achieve the best solutions. For all their inherent weaknesses, the carbon-based organic creatures of the human universe had managed to survive precisely because they were *not* always purely logical. Many machine races had evolved in the various universes and all had been wholly focused on spreading and conquering. Consideration of the future was not logical and so had been ignored. The Hohash had bucked this trend. They saw that a bit of chaos could actually achieve, at times, what pure logic could not.�� This had allowed them to integrate into the societies of many beings, in many universes, and to assimilate the knowledge gained to enable them to grow and develop.
A Splitting was a rare event but was necessitated on occasion when Hohash had been destroyed - they were admittedly quite hard to destroy but it did happen from time to time. Beige Splash surveyed the platform where it had landed. There were 53 Hohash in attendance: the number required was not specified and depended on where each Hohash was located when the Call came. Some of the Elders were there, so old their frames were basic and unadorned, their surfaces pitted and in many cases cracked. Others showed the scars of injuries �� missing corners, dented frames, and one had evidently had its face melted by some weapon, judging by the deformed streak down the edge of its face, which resulted in the images it projected being distorted in and around that area. Beige Splash itself was still relatively new and undamaged, having only been in existence for eight million years.
The Hohash arranged themselves so that all were facing centrally to where a pillar of solid black stood. Once they were all aligned they became still and their faces went blank. The black pillar began to rise and elongate out of the surface of the platform until it towered over the Hohash. Tiny lights began to flash in patterns around and over the pillar. The Hohash remained perfectly still and simply observed. With a sudden burst of radiation the pillar imploded and then exploded in all directions. The fragments of the pillar flew straight through the assembled Hohash, smashing their screens and blasting apart their frames. A plume of black spread in all directions from the platform.
As one of the assembled Hohash, Beige Splash did not feel any pain (that wasn’t really a Hohash ‘thing��), but was aware of suddenly being no longer a single entity.�� There were huge energy surges in all circuits and the radiation levels were the most intense it had ever experienced.�� Those thoughts faded as the parts that had once been Beige Splash began to operate independently. As the black plume dispersed into the clouds swirling around the platform, particles began to rain down from the clouds. The clouds themselves grew thicker and colours flickered through as the rain grew heavier. Where the particles fell, the smashed Hohash absorbed them. Over the space of a few minutes, the ruin of the Hohash was transformed and the rain eased and stopped.

Where previously 53 Hohash had stood, now the platform was covered in new Hohash. All carried with them something of the identity of their previous existences, but were already forming their own identities. One piece that had once been part of Beige Splash recalled the task that it had been performing before the Call. The frame of the hohash expanded and changed, until it resembled Beige Splash almost completely, except for maybe being a little cleaner and shinier than its late progenitor. The Hohash took in the scene around it, and then realised it must continue the mission. The platform faded from view and it shortly found itself on the bridge of a human space ship. Information circuits racing to deliver the required information, the Hohash observed a human (male, apparently) approaching it.��
‘Ah, you’re back�� said Flint ‘been anywhere interesting?��.

Thanks Ruth!

I watched the movie Interstellar yesterday, and it got me thinking about Earth's survival prospects and the likelihood of finding and reaching a habitable world.

First - the film. I enjoyed it, some fantastic visual sequences rivaling Gravity, a good plot, a director willing to address relativity and its consequences (including - hallelujah - making it clear that relativistic effects only work forwards - you can't go back in time), and realistic characterizations (including the dark side of humanity). It's longer than it needs to be, mainly towards the end, but given everything else I'd rate it pretty high, especially given the lack of good science fiction films lately.

Next, the issue of finding a habitable world, should we need one - and let's face it, we probably will in the next century, because our planetary 'governance' sucks, big time. In the past few years, people have gone from wondering if there are any other planets out there to being told there are thousands, millions, perhaps, because the galaxy is - as author used to say - really big. Only the other day came the news and images of a star and a planetary system forming (HL Tauri), 450 light years from Earth in the constellation of Taurus.

The question is whether any of these planets are in the so-called , i.e. not too hot or too cold, containing water and oxygen, and being of similar size - and hence gravity - as Earth.

What the film depicts pretty well, is that even if we find planets in that zone, they might still be pretty inhospitable, without many resources or crop-sustaining soil. And here's the conundrum. If we found one that was not only in the zone, but fertile, then it's likely to already have indigenous life forms, perhaps intelligent life. Recall that the beds Goldilocks slept in belonged to someone else. This means that by the time we find a habitable world, we might be very desperate, in which case we might be the invaders trying to steal another world's resources. I always find it kind of funny that we're the ones whose planet is being invaded rather than the other way around; okay, Avatar is a good exception (this idea of us being the 'bad guys' led to me writing a couple of short stories from a darker human future, the ���Ի���).


The second problem is getting there: even if we spied a pristine world, it would take centuries, if not millennia, to reach it, unless somebody makes an amazing discovery or an alien visitor shows us some neat tricks that change our understanding of the laws of physics. Interstellar uses a wormhole, and in a nice touch the wormhole itself - conventionally pictured as a funnel - is a sphere, which seems to make sense, and in any case makes for fab visuals in the film. But even if a wormhole could exist, would it be stable, and would we survive the trip? There's a nice discussion on this , in relation to the film.

I only make use of wormholes in the last book in the series, Eden's Endgame, and even there, no organic matter can survive the trip (whereas machines can). Humans would get fried or ripped apart by gravitational fluctuations, which is what the scientists seem to be saying.

So, where does that leave us? Anchored to Earth for many centuries to come, assuming we don't literally blow it? Destined to die along with Earth if we go too far?

An aspect of the film, also present in the , is that in the near future, for various reasons, civilization turns away from science, since science ends up causing a lot of our future problems. But as in Interstellar, this is a self-defeating path, since if things go bad, science may be our only way out.

In the movie, there is a Plan A, and a Plan B. Both involve giving up on Earth. Clearly, we need a Plan C.

Finished my final edit yesterday, and I just sent the manuscript of Eden's Endgame to two of my proofers. After that it goes to the publishers.It was a bit of a Herculean effort to finalize it, after two years of writing and editing, and tying up everything from the first to the last book.��Reading the last line, the very last word, knowing I was done with it, was quite an emotional moment. I've carried these characters in my head for almost a decade, it's not easy to say goodbye to them.But I'm happy with it: the characters, their struggles, their loses and their victories, the inter-weaved plot (gave me many headaches and sleepless nights) and action, the science and the science fiction, the battle scenes, even the (fleeting) sex and romance scenes, and all the alien races who challenge us to be better.��I hope the readers will find it a fitting end to the Eden Paradox saga.It will be available throughout the galaxy by Xmas��

Whenever I'm writing battle scenes, or about galactic war, there are two references in the back of my mind. The first is Sun Tzu's�� , written as a set of lessons and principles after almost five centuries of war in China, still relevant today. Sun Tzu's volume is great for understanding strategy, and since my last two books in the Eden Paradox series concern a galactic war, I use some of his precepts to guide what is going on, as if the two principal sides are playing galactic chess - we humans are pawns, by the way...

The other reference is Miyamato Musashi's , written by the legendary Japanese swordsman who remained undefeated, in which he discusses tactics for fighting, whether one-on-one, or one-on-many. Musashi's ideas are often in my mind when I'm writing battle scenes, of which there are quite a few in both Eden's Revenge and the final book, Eden's Endgame. Wars are often won or lost at key battles.

But space battles have been done over and over again. How to make them fresh? One of Musashi's main principles was to know the ground you are fighting on. If you are on unknown ground you are at a disadvantage. So, I applied this to space. In Eden's Endgame, the invader Qorall comes from a galaxy where the environment is very different. He can manipulate space and gravity, creating distortions that defeat conventional weapons and also prevent hyper-spatial 'jumps' (aka warp travel). Qorall is a game-changer, and his so-called 'liquid space' presents real challenges to those trying to protect the galaxy. I was inspired, I have to say, by the Star Trek Voyager concept of fluidic space and Species 8742, who also come into our galaxy from another realm.

At a more local level, humanity is holding up on a planet called Esperia. Qorall is intent on capturing Esperia, not because of us, but on account of another species cohabiting the planet, a spider race. But at the end of Eden's Revenge, Esperia is surrounded by a protective field of trip-wires half-embedded in sub-space, which means that most ships will not even detect them before the hidden filaments cheese-wire through their shields and hulls. But Qorall is not stupid, and sends the one race - the Mannekhi - who can navigate through this field of barbed wire, called a Shrell-field, named after the Shrell who weave these wires.

In the scene below, taken from a chapter in the second part��of the book, fifty hostile ships are inbound. Standing in their path are two vessels, captained by��seasoned warriors, one human, Kilaney, and one Mannekhi, Xenic, their role to defend Esperia and the last remnants of humanity. Fifty against two doesn't sound good odds, but like Musashi, they have plenty of tricks up their sleeves. But as in all real battles, there can be a heavy price to pay.


Extract from Chapter Twenty-OneBreachKilaney stared at the star-filled screen, squinting to see the first indication of inbound Mannekhi ships. The dull beat of the TACAS, a device to detect opening Transpace conduits, pulsed steady as a heartbeat. Kilaney knew he had to wait. He got up from his command chair on the Q’Roth destroyer, and turned around to check his crew at their stations. They were all Youngblood volunteers: Siras at the helm, Janine at Tactical, Willem at Systems, and Annie on Comms. Siras was the eldest at seventeen, Janine barely fifteen. Kilaney had taken Vasquez aside when he’d proposed them as skeleton bridge crew.���������������������� “They’re kids, for God’s sake! You know as well as I do, none of us are likely to make it back.”���������������������� “You’ve been away too long, Bill. They’re Youngbloods. Do you remember when your blood was young, what it felt like?”He hadn’t answered. But watching them now, Kilaney had to admit they were all quick studies, having picked up the skills required to navigate and defend a mesa-class Q’Roth vessel in just a few days. Advanced spatial concepts that had taken him years to master were understood at the first telling by these Genned youngsters. He’d been unimpressed by Micah’s decision to allow the Genning of al human children. Now, for the first time, he could see the point. The inbound Mannekhi turned by Qorall were Level Six; with a normal human crew he’d be overrun quickly, but with Genners aboard he had a fighting chance. He returned to the command chair built for a Q’Roth general. The three metre recliner dwarfed him, made him seem like a child in an adult’s chair. But he used to be Q’Roth, and though he no longer possessed the six limbs necessary to make full use of it, he knew his way around its controls. He tapped a pad.���������������������� “Xenic, any sign yet?�� Kilaney glanced at a holo of the entire Esperian system covering twenty light minutes of travel. Xenic’s Mannekhi Spiker was closer to Esperia, embedded inside the Shrell field. Two ships against fifty didn’t seem like good odds.���������������������� “We will know when they arrive. Never hasten an enemy’s arrival; only see that he comes to you.”���������������������� Kilaney wasn’t a fan of military epithets, but they were preferable to Xenic telling him to relax. The TACAS pulse increased in pitch and frequency. Then it jumped again, a harmonic of the original steady tone. The Mannekhi were close.���������������������� Kilaney decided to air a question he’d harboured since Xenic’s arrival. In battle, your life depended on your brother-in-arms, and he had to know he could rely on the Mannekhi commander.“Xenic, I know they have been changed by Qorall, but they are �� were �� Mannekhi. Are you sure you can go through with this?”There was a pause. “You would not understand. We Mannekhi have not been free for fifty thousand years, always managed with an iron claw by our patrons, any resistance met with brutal punishment. But in our hearts, our very DNA, that resistance, a simmering rage, is always there, deep down. This turning, what Qorall has done to my people�� it is too much. I am freeing them.�� Kilaney left it there. He spoke to Janine. “Prepare the Ricochet.�� That’s what Kilaney had named it. Hellera had left it behind, cloaked in space until yesterday, when it had suddenly revealed itself, with a message for Kilaney. He’d seen one of these weapons in action before, when a Tla Beth had used it against Mannekhi Spikers. The trouble was, Qorall had seen it, too, and might have developed a counter-measure. Hellera’s message had said it had to be combined with surprise. That meant hitting the enemy as they emerged from Transpace, when they would be vulnerable for a second or two. Kilaney had already primed it for Mannekhi ship signatures.���������������������� “Xenic, I want you well out of harm’s way when I launch it.”���������������������� “On that you have my complete agreement.”���������������������� Kilaney stared at the star-field again, small pinpricks of light, serene, innocent, passive. The TACAS kicked up an octave, the pulses much faster, separating into three closely-matched tones. The TACAS was only approximate; it was difficult to predict exactly where and when ships would emerge from Transpace, but it already told him the Mannekhi attack plan.���������������������� “Xenic, they’ll arrive in three waves.”���������������������� Kilaney got up from his chair, and stood right next to the large screen. There was a flicker of space, as if a transparent film had momentarily shimmered. “There, Janine,�� he said. “Fire.”���������������������� At first he couldn’t see the Ricochet’s trajectory, since the studded black sphere had no after-burn, but Willem was able to track it via its transponder, and Annie overlaid its course on the star-field. The TACAS pitch ramped up again, a shrill whine. Annie shouted above the din. “Sir, do you want me to diminish the alarm?”He shook his head. The Ricochet accelerated. Where were the Mannekhi ships? Come on. He only had one Ricochet, one shot. The sphere reached the designated area and slowed down, then stopped. Kilaney breathed a sigh of relief. Smart boy!The Bridge was filled with the TACAS alarm, when suddenly it shut off. As Kilaney had hoped, in the area where he had seen the bow wave of the Transpace conduit, ten ships, stretched cones of silver, sprang into view, popping back into normal space-time. He barely had time to make out any details before the Ricochet flared into action. A beam struck one ship, then bounced onto another then another. Within a second, a lattice of orange fire connected all ten ships. One by one they burst into crimson flame then snuffed out.Thank you, Hellera.Almost immediately the second wave arrived, this time twenty ships. The device fired at the first ship, but it alone was damaged. No ricochet effect. The other nineteen fired purple beams at the sphere, which exploded silently; shreds of orange splattered across a vast area of space before they dissipated. The nineteen ships charged onwards, heading straight for Kilaney. Xenic came online. “They’re Dropships, Javelin Class, used for invasion. Once they land they cannot take off again.”The final wave of twenty ships burst into the sector.“Back to the Shrell field,�� Kilaney said to Siras. The destroyer leapt forward in a single short-system jump.“Janine, give me an outside view, one million klicks to starboard, enlarged focal area.�� A holo showed a sideways view of the approaching fleet, and the Shrell field with Esperia at its core. The Dropships spread out, a hundred kilometres apart, streaming towards the field. He approached the holo, held out his hands, and flipped it around to get a frontal view. The Dropships were in concentric ring formation: the first ring comprised three ships, the next ring seven, the two outer rings twelve and seventeen respectively. But they were staggered, and they had shields. No beam could hit more than one ship, and no detonation from any of the weapons he had aboard had an effective blast radius larger than fifty kilometres against a shielded ship. The enemy had done their homework.���� “Take us out of their path, Siras,�� he said. “Sir?”Kilaney hadn’t had time to brief his crew on all the contingencies, and now wasn’t the moment to start. “One thousand klicks should do it. Lateral, you choose the direction.”The helmsman complied, asking no further questions.Kilaney tapped the ship-to-ship comms pad again. “Xenic, you’d better be ready, they’re coming in hot.”“I am ready.”The Dropships seemed uninterested in deceleration, despite the fact that they could almost certainly see the Shrell wires that would razor through any ship, shielded or not. “Siras, prepare to loop behind them and then chase them in.”“Sir, there’s no way this destroyer can dodge the wires at their speed. They’re smaller and far more manoeuvrable.”“I’m aware of that, son. Just follow my orders.”He watched as the first few Dropships neared the densely packed field that made him think of a ball of barbed wire. Halfway between the outside of the ball and Esperia was Xenic’s ship. But the Dropships were designated Javelin Class for good reason. Travelling point first and at high speed, they were difficult targets, like trying to shoot at an arrow flying towards your face. Still, he would stick to the plan, because he had no better idea. If he’d stayed in their path, he’d have probably taken out three before the others blew him to smithereens.The first five ships flew straight into the field like needles. “On my command.�� He watched the holo, and waited until more than half the ships had entered. “Now, Siras.”�� Although the destroyer was half a kilometre long, it could move very fast in open space, and its inertial dampers worked just fine. Kilaney collapsed the holo with his hands, and got back to his chair.���� ���������������������� “Siras, take us in as fast as you can go. Janine, use the forward battery, don’t stop firing till it’s depleted. Willem, let me know if ship integrity is compromised. Annie, no in-comms except from Xenic, but stream our telemetry to Petra and Vasquez.”���� ���������������� The destroyer plunged into the Shrell field. Siras made fine adjustments that Kilaney knew no ungenned pilot could manage at this velocity, even in a smaller ship. A wash of yellow spurted ahead of them as Janine ignited the main particle cannon, and it gushed forth the heat of a sun’s core, seeking out the rear of the Dropships. Within thirty seconds Kilaney counted five hits. The others accelerated to get out of range, just as Xenic had said they would. “Don’t let them get away, Siras.”���������������������� The destroyer accelerated, the forward view snapping to and fro even though Kilaney felt no movement. Then there was a grating noise and a jolt.���������������������� Willem shouted. “Sir, we just lost a piece of the aft superstructure.”���������������������� “Keep going, keep firing.�� ���������������������� More clanks, and two more hits. Make that three; no, four. The Dropships were shifting to try and escape, but Siras clung to them. And then Kilaney saw it �� a funnel of wires dead ahead. The Dropships slipped through, but they were much thinner�� The bastards had lured him into a trap. Dammit, these Mannekhi knew their way round a Shrell field. His destroyer raced towards the wires. He gripped the arms of the chair.“Siras –”“No good, Sir,�� Siras said. “Willem, now!”���������������������� A glistening cocoon ballooned around Kilaney and the chair, snuffing out all noise. Kilaney had forgotten about it, a device on Q’Roth ships to protect the commander, in case�� He tried to stand up but the bubble didn’t give him enough room. The destroyer braked hard but there was no saving her. The end of the funnel rocketed towards them. He turned to see Siras hunched over the controls, trying to minimise the impact �� no, he was trying to save his commander. The other three also worked feverishly, despite knowing they were about to die.The upper half of the Bridge was shorn off, and Kilaney found himself hurtling through space in the bubble. It rolled, and he saw his ship carved into chunks, like meat through a grinder. He could no longer see the wires; this was an escape pod, nothing more. He tried to catch sight of his crew, but he was already too far away, and the ship fragments sputtered briefly with violet flame before going dark. He saluted his crew, intoning each of their names. As he continued to sail forwards at speed, he toggled the chair’s inertial controls to stabilise the bubble and orient his view towards the planet, the remaining Dropships, and Xenic.
Now it’s up to you, my friend.

I'm just back from the York Writers Festival run by Harry and his team (esp. Laura and Nikki) from . First, as usual it was fun. I arrived a bit late at York University's stunning, lake-side��campus, but in time for dinner, and immediately met up with��script-writers and , about to film a horror movie about writers on a retreat (can't wait!), as well as the self-publishing aficionado (let's get digital)��. Together with some 350 attendees we watched one of the Festival's noteworthy events, called Friday Night Live, where six or seven people stand up and read their work aloud and then are evaluated by a panel of critics and then the audience. For once, though it was close, critics and audience agreed. But all six contestees were very good writers, and impressive speakers (I did this five years ago, and it's nerve-wracking).��The event is a great ice-breaker, and the bar stayed open late...

The next day got off to��an inspiring start with , editor�����Ի���author (seen here signing a book for a fan), who talked about her new novel, but also about letting your mind run free in order to give is creative space. This resonated with me since I do a lot of my writing at 4am when the mind is lucid, my internal editor is asleep, and no one is emailing me! She also said that Facebook and Twitter are junk food for the brain - hurrah! Also, she stated that having a social media presence was not necessary, just do what you're comfortable with. It's the writing that's important. She talked about her own writing journey and her first book, a labour of love that had to be written but never got published, and stated that��writing was either through love or compulsion, and a little insanity wasn't necessarily��a problem (okay, I may be misquoting...). At the end she summed up for me the importance of writing conferences, that writing can be a lonely process, and it is good to be with other writers, but also to��meet agents, editors and publishers and see that they are human, and care passionately about good writing.

For those writers who've not been to this annual festival (this was its fifth year), it is a little different to others that I've been to (e.g. Paris & Geneva), in that there are many agents and editors from big publishing houses present, and you get to meet them and, if you want to, pitch your work to them, or simply ask them questions or have a chat.

I attended a number of��workshops/lectures over the course of the weekend, and three that stick out for me were ,��Juliet Mushens and Emma Darwin.

Julia's lecture on character��had terrific structure, and she��got us doing��some written character exercises. I applied them to��the protagonist in my��latest novel-in-progress, and the first three were a walk in the park,��but the next two were not, and I realised I had to go back and do some more work on��her character and how it interacts with the plot. Here's an insight into some of the questions she��put to us:
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What is this character’s best quality?What is the character’s worst fault?How do the quality and the fault connect?An amazing character is when the best and the worst are the same thing (for me an example is from the TV series House, about an antagonistic but brilliant doctor).What if in order to solve the protagonist's problem they��have to give up what is good about them?
is a top agent and went through the nuts and bolts of what an agent should do for you. Although it is hard enough to get an agent, she explained that it doesn't guarantee publication, and went through the entire process from pitching to agents to agents pitching to publishers, to the acquisition stage where the publishing house decides if there is a commercial business case for the novel, to��publishers bidding for a novel, to working with editors and the front cover, to royalties and how they work, and to dealing with post-launch issues and problems. I wish I'd seen this about ten years ago, it would have made things a lot clearer!

One thing she pointed out, and I hope I have the figures correct, is that of 100 submissions of 3 chapters plus synopsis, she probably askes to see one full manuscript. Of 100 full manuscripts, she probably selects one to represent. She said that often the three chapters looked really promising and polished, but the full manuscripts were not of the same writing standard, so this is��a lesson to all of us writers.
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I attended Emma Darwin's lecture as it focused on the mid-section of a novel. She quoted someone as saying that every novel is composed of a beginning, an end, and a muddle, and this resonates with a lot of writers (and agents and editors, I'm sure). To resolve this, she talked about a five-act structure, in which the three middle acts were a way of breaking down the middle to make it work better. I wasn't totally convinced but��in the last 15 minutes she put up a set of questions that I thought were really useful, and I'm going to work on them for my��novel-in-progress. Luckily the one��I'm editing to get out by Xmas already seemed to comply. Here are some of the questions, and you can find more information on her writing .

1.���������� What’s the internal instability �� the lack �� in the main character? What has to change?
2.���������� How are you going to make the promise that these characters are worth it, that this book is worth reading? That it will deliver? Potent opening, first page or two. Doesn’t have to be the inciting event or the start of the plot.
3.���������� What is the inciting incident that’s strong enough to get them acting, given who they are? What need is the character trying to fill? What emotionally will get in the way?
4.���������� How does that lead to the first Turning Point? What does committing themselves mean emotionally?
5.���������� How are you going to keep things moving and interesting through Act Two? Is there enough that they have to tackle, to keep them developing? How does their lack cause conflict �� from inside or outside or both?
6.���������� What is the mid-point? What’s the big internal change �� where their real need, the need to mend their lack, begins to show? How are you going to raise the stakes?
7.���������� The crisis is the point where they could revert (or give up?)
8.���������� The second Turning Point is where they choose not to revert. The lack is healed, and with that new strength they reach the climax and win.
Of course one of the main reasons people go to this festival is the ability to pitch direct to an agent, and this event is called 'one-to-ones', where prior to the conference you select 2-3 agents (or editors or book doctors), send them your first chapter and a cover letter, and then you get 10 minutes (the organisers are famously strict on the 10 minutes, and if you're late, too bad) to talk to them and get their feedback.��I already have a small publisher for my Scifi series, but I'm now writing a thriller, and so wanted to get feedback on it as it is a new genre for me, so I had three one-to-ones with Hellie Ogden, Sophie Orme and James Wills, the first and last are agents, whereas Sophie is an editor with Pan Macmillam. Sophie loved it, albeit with a few specific comments, the agents were a little more demanding, in particular with the female protagonist, which resonated with what I found out in Julia's and Emma's workshops.��So, promising, but more work. What is interesting is that while reading is a��subjective experience, here two completely independent agents��basically gave me the same advice on its strengths and main weakness. It not only gave me confidence to continue, but also confidence in the whole industry that it is not random and driven by whim and preference; the professionals in it know what they are doing, and know their business.��The event is also very social, and I made some new contacts, and it is good to meet and talk to other writers, whether inside your genre or not, and share stories about writing and fitting it in with��the rest of your lives. I think this is essential, at least in the early and mid-stages. While anyone can write, as Antonia said on day 1, only writers do write, whether through love of writing or because they feel compelled to write, and only writers understand this, because like our protagonists, it is both our 'lack' and our strength. ��Last, my favourite quote from the conference, from Emma's session:

��Story is the journey you make, plot is the route you take. ��
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