The Story So FarIf you know the score, you can skip ahead to the New Release heading. If not...
So I decided to try out an experiment in direct distribution: offer a story in pdf form to anyone who donated an amount at their discretion via PayPal; and should the story reach a target of two-thirds SFWA pro rates (five cents a word), said story would be put on general release for free download. That worked rather well, so I decided to try out a second stage: if the donations reached a secondary target of
full pro-rates, I'd do the same for another story in the series. That worked too. Which is pretty damn cool.
So, the ball is rolling, the second story just earned its way, and we now have two stories available in various formats in
this shared folder, direct links below:
Stories Available"Scruffians Stamp"
"Jack Scallywag"
I'll try and get the Word doc and rtf versions of "Scruffians Stamp" up too at some point, so I can use this entry as a template to be updated and brought to the top as and when. If you're reading it now, that should theoretically mean that it's because there's a... drumroll please...
New ReleaseThis time, it's "How a Scruffian Starts Their Story," a short one at a mere 1800 words. I'll stick with the target/rates system established, as it seems to be working. So, the primary target for this story is $60, and the secondary target is $90. If it makes the first, I'll post it up for free download like the others. If it makes the second, I have another story ready to go. And everyone who donates whatever amount they feel like gets the pdf version whether it reaches the target or not. All's you gotta do is click on the "Feed the Madman" button to the left and chuck some dosh my way. Simple, eh?
Update: Primary Target ReachedUpdate: Epub Version Now Available"How a Scruffian Starts Their Story" now available for free download:
Well, that was quick, but the target
was a lot lower than for the last story cause of the length. But, hey, if you hadn't even got round to donating yet, you still can, you know. We still gots that secondary target to reach.
Anyway, here's a teaser, so you have an idea of what you'll be getting (though it's really just a framing scene, so I wouldn't expect too much from certain names you might find... somewhat familiar):
How a Scruffian Starts Their Story
Hal Duncan
1
— I was born under a bad signpost, says Foxtrot Wainscot Hottentot III.
— I was stolen from gypsies, says Puckerscruff of the urchins.
— I was raised by werewolves, says Flashjack of the hellions.
— I ran away from the circus, says Joey Picaroni.
— I bought me soul from the Devil, says King Nuffinmuch O'Anyfink of the tinkers.
— I was a teenage virgin mum, says Bananastasia Roaminhopper, rightful Princess of Russia (allegedly.)
— I took the King's shilling and died in all his wars, says Ratatat Dan. But not for the likes of you.
— You see, says Gob, a Scruffian's story needs a hook.
•
They sit on the living-room floor of the Scruffian squat — their crib, they call it — in a rough circle round the old fireplace that's now shrine to a sound system. There's beer cans and bottles strewn between them, baccy packets, squishy black and gubbins scattered among the booze, chucked from here to there at a gesture or word — skins? The scamp, Foxtrot, is lucky if he looks eleven. Joey must be at least seventeen. Well, they all must be at least whatever they look, and then some. And then maybe a lot.
— You've gotta open with swagger, says Gob.
•
The Scruffian-to-be looks at them as if they're bonkers, thinking that he can't really improve much on his opener... and closer really:
I ran away from home cause my Dad used to beat the fucking crap out of me.
The truth isn't quite as simple as that, he supposes, not quite. Maybe the word beat doesn't do justice to the fucker's repertoire of tortures, the physical and the psychological, like his fondness for holding a cigarette up to No-Son-of-Mine's eye, so close he could smell the singed eyelashes. And there's the whole issue of why...
*****
So if yer wants to read the rest, yer knows what to do.
