Last week’s challenge is, “Choose Your Opening Line.” Winners will be chosen in a week or two because lawds-a-mercy, you folks sure turned in lots of entries!

This week is a simple one.

I want to you to come up with a title.

Just one. A single title to a future and unwritten flash fiction story.

Post it in the comments below. I’ll pick my three favorites and they will get RANDOM GOODIES FROM ME. Somehow. Then, the following challenge will be for you folks to write stories based on the chosen titles. You picking up what I’m laying down?

You may enter once.

Enter by next Friday, the 26th. Noon EST.

Now, name that story.

Random news bits flung into your eyeblobs:

First up: whoa, the Guardian suggests I’m one of the best young novelists in the SFF universe. *eyes pop out of my skull* Well, that’s all a bit unexpected, isn’t it? Doubly amazing here is that I’m put with a list of incredibly talented people: Seanan McGuire, Joe Hill, Tom Pollock, Lauren Beukes, Saladin Ahmed, James Smythe, Catheryn Valente, Robert Jackson Bennett, Madeline Ashby, China Mieville, Carlton Mellick, Hannu Rajeniemi, Nnedi Okorafor, Elizabeth May, NK Jemisin, Joe Abercrombie, Aliette de Bodard, Francis Hardinge, and Hugh Howey (who may not like being on that list with me at this point, I dunno). Point is: holy list of amazing people. Triply amazing is how some of these people are people I consider friends, which makes me the luckiest little jerk in the whole wide world.

(You better watch for the day that Seanan McGuire and I combine forces. The world will hear our murder ballad, by gosh. AND IT WILL SONG ALONG AS IT PERISHES.)

Let’s see, what’s next?

Oh! Hey holy crap, I’m going to have four novels out in the next few months. For those unaware, that means: Gods & Monsters, The Blue Blazes, Under The Empyrean Sky, and Beyond Dinocalypse. It’s a veritable Wendig-palooza and for that, I apologize. I’ll try to keep the self-promo noise to a manageable level, a sweet seductive murmur in the background of your daily signal. BUT I GOTTA TALK ABOUT MY BOOKS because that’s how I feed my child and oh yeah also my wanton gin habit. (Seriously, spring and summer come around and bottles of gin come and go like hobos riding the rails, man.)

*checks notes*

Ah! Right.

Wanna read the first chapter of The Blue Blazes? Tor.com has you covered.

Need to read a review? Well, in this review, the reviewer notes [sic]:

“The pacing is just short of break neck, but Wendig gives readers a well placed moment or two to catch their breath. But don’t be shocked to find yourself reading well into the night. The action sequences are bombastic, brutal set pieces that leave the surrounding landscape in reduced to gleefully described rubble. It’s all a hair’s breadth from over the top, but Wendig manages never to lean on the gas enough to send the story into a tail spin. It’s a blancing act to keep from slipping into parody  but Wendig manages it deftly.”

And —

“As I’ve said, the real star of The Blue Blazes is the prose. Wendig writes with blunt force choreography, full of brutally disturbing descriptions, and wrecking ball action. Noir sensibilities are in full force here, and Wendig uses them brilliantly to craft a portrait of a New York that is at the same time instantly recognizable and disturbingly alien.  The staccato rhythm of Wending’s prose fits beautifully with the story he tells, and I’ve rarely seen such an usual voice used so effectively.”

We’ll just ignore the fact he misspelled my last name as “Wending.”

Need more? WELL OKAY. Another reviewer notes:

“This is urban fantasy, horror and gangster noir all rolled into one tight, fast-paced drug trip of a story – and the drug trip part is literal a lot of the time. New York City is sitting on top of an open gateway to Hell, and monsters aren’t the only exports. The ‘Blue Blazes’ of the book’s title refers to a mineral, mined from the rock of the Great Below, that allows those who use it to see the true nature of Hell’s denizens through whatever illusions they use to appear human. In the time since Hell broke loose, this mineral has become a new drug of choice, particularly among New York’s criminal organization – but there have been rumours of other kinds of drug. Different-coloured minerals, that are said to have even crazier effects – even one that can help the user to fend off death itself.”

Finally, there’s this German review. Translating a snippet here…

“After I had read Blackbirds by Chuck Wendig and Mockingbird, I knew pretty much what to expect. However, with The Blue Blazes again but he puts up a notch and skin so right on the plaster. Anyone who takes a book from Chuck agile in the hand must be prepared that is cursed without end that are not exactly sympathetic character through the series that the atmosphere from beginning to end is depressing and gloomy that it is not in force come up short and you will not be sure in terms of action on the track.”

Okay, so Google Translate maybe isn’t ideal, there.

I think they liked the book.

So: there you go!

News. Enjoy. Tell your friends. Drink some gin.

Ah, memes.

I love you, memes, I do.

Surly pets! Tubby children chasing bubbles! Various hedgehogs!

I fucking love hedgehogs.

Which is different from “I love fucking hedgehogs,” by the way, so don’t get it twisted.

Anyway.

One such meme going around has appeared in multiple guises, the latest (and it’s really not that recent, but I see it pop up again and again) is The Care and Feeding of an Author, and you know, I totally appreciate the sentiment. We’re authors. It seems like we can barely take care of ourselves. (“Did you shower? Did you forget to eat today? Are you even wearing underpants? YOU NEED TO BREATHE, STUPID AUTHOR.”) And we are genuinely allowed to exist because of readers. Not publishers. Not distributors like Amazon. At the end of the day all that matters are that we have readers who support the hell out of us, helping us and our books find other readers. Like some kind of imaginary story virus that transmits via recommendation instead of sneeze.

I just want to clarify that, while we appreciate it, you don’t owe us anything.

Really.

You’re not obligated to care for us or feed us. That’s not the kind of relationship we have. I appreciate it. Certainly if you like a book I want you to be enlivened enough to share the book with others in whatever way you feel excites you best. But I want you to share it because you want to share it, not because of some idea that you’re obligated, that it’s your responsibility.

I mean, damn, the menu of actions you must undertake to do to care and feed us in that list is pretty intense. I don’t even do all those things and I love me some books and some authors. It’s like, by the time you’re done, your whole day is gone because you’ve spent hours clicking like buttons and +1s and copying links and taking out Craigslist ads and instituting sinister hallucinogenic meme viruses — that’s awfully punishing to you, the reader.

What’s next, you have to let me use your couch? Eat your food? Borrow your dog?

Warning: I will borrow your dog if you let me.

(The list is also very Amazon-specific. It assumes you buy all your books there. And, maybe you do, and that’s totally fine — you buy books however you like, by golly. But other folks buy them from bookstores or Wal-Mart or use these old things called “libraries,” which I hear are pretty awesome if you can find one OH WAIT THEY SHOULD BE EVERYWHERE.)

Seriously: fuck yeah, libraries.

Anyway.

All this is just to say, you don’t owe us anything.

Not a click, not a drink, not a buy, not a review, not a hand-job or butt-tickle or nipple-squeeze. We appreciate any attention you give us. We doubly appreciate any money you care to cart our way in trade for our storycraft. We triply appreciate you going beyond all that and using whatever means you like to share the book with other people. (Caution: please do not touch authors unless the authors ask to be touched. We’re like aquariums: don’t tap on the glass.)

You do not owe us anything.

It is we who owe you.

Once in a while, I find a brother-in-beard — someone whose beard cilia reach for my own and we enter a hive-like state where we commune with our hirsute overlord and OH you don’t want to hear about that. You want to hear how beardly Brian McClellan talks about his new bad-ass book, Promise of Blood, right? Right.

TELL US ABOUT YOURSELF: WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?

I’m Brian McClellan; epic fantasy writer, amateur beekeeper, computer gamer, reader, husband, son, brother. My job is to entertain you.

GIVE US THE 140-CHARACTER STORY PITCH:

Muskets and magic. Guillotines and bayonets. Revolution and revenge. This is flintlock fantasy with smoke rising from the barrel.

WHERE DOES THIS STORY COME FROM?

It comes from a desire to see what happens to a fantasy world when it progresses into an industrial age. How does the magic evolve with the technology? How do the old regimes fall, and what rises to take their place?

HOW IS THIS A STORY ONLY YOU COULD’VE WRITTEN?

It’s very personal story because it comes from my own eclectic tastes and desires. I love epic fantasy; the sense of adventure, the second-world nature of the stories, and of course the magic. I also have a great interest in historical figures like Napoleon Bonaparte—the driving force behind him and the volatile time period in which he lived.

I wanted to write a story that would appeal to a wide demographic. There’s nothing new in the desire of a writer to craft something that will sell well. The idea of epic fantasy in an industrializing world had a newness about it that appealed to both my artistic and business sense. It seemed like a great way to give a fresh flare to an old genre.

WHAT WAS THE HARDEST THING ABOUT WRITING PROMISE OF BLOOD?

The rewrite.

I was offered agent representation by the awesome Caitlin Blasdell based upon my first draft. The first thing she said to me, though, was that we needed to edit before she’d submit it to publishing houses. Little did I know that by “edit” she meant rewrite half the damn book.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s ten times the book it was and I’m so glad that Caitlin made me rewrite huge sections. But that year of editing after having finally gotten an agent was extremely difficult.

WHAT DID YOU LEARN WRITING PROMISE OF BLOOD?

I learned a lot about pacing a 160,000 word novel. That size of a book can become an unwieldy beast. It takes plotting and thorough notes to keep track of everything going on inside.

WHAT DO YOU LOVE ABOUT PROMISE OF BLOOD?

The cover art.

No, seriously. Take a look at that art. Orbit did a fantastic job on that cover.

In terms of what’s inside the book—I love that it’s entertaining. That’s what I’m here for, after all. I’m not asking deep philosophical questions of my readers. I’m asking them to have a good time. The characters are relatable, the story moves quickly, and people will have fun reading it.

WHAT WOULD YOU DO DIFFERENTLY NEXT TIME?

More central female characters. I am a little terrified of writing a female viewpoint badly, so all three of the main viewpoint characters are men.

While there are some seriously badass women in the book, the reader doesn’t get much of a chance to see the world through their eyes. I’d like to do that in the future.

GIVE US YOUR FAVORITE PARAGRAPH FROM THE STORY:

Not a single paragraph, but a short exchange. Field Marshal Tamas is interviewing the young sergeant chosen to be his new bodyguard:

Tamas watched the man for another few moments. Among the troops, Olem was well known and well liked—he could shoot, box, ride, play cards or billiards. He was an everyman as far as soldiers were concerned.

“You’ve one mark on your record,” Tamas said. “You once punched a na-baron in the face. Broke his jaw. Tell me about that.”

Olem grimaced. “Officially, sir, I was pushing him out of the way of a run-away carriage. Saved his life. Half my company saw it.”

“With your fist?”

“Aye.”

“And unofficially?”

“The man was a git. He shot my dog because it startled his horse.”

“And if I ever have cause to shoot your dog?”

“I’ll punch you in the face.”

WHAT’S NEXT FOR YOU AS A STORYTELLER?

The sequel, THE CRIMSON CAMPAIGN, is coming out from Orbit Books in February of 2014. The third book in the series should be out around September of 2014.

After that? Who knows.

I’ve got a lot more stories floating around in my head—a young adult historical fantasy, another epic fantasy series, and more books in the Powder Mage universe. Time permitting, you’ll get to see them all.

Brian McClellan: Website / Twitter

Promise of Blood: Amazon / B&N / Indiebound

A thing happened yesterday.

A woman said on Twitter that she was selling a book of inspirational quotes by writers.

I was one of the writers with a quote in the book.

Alongside Stephen King, Ray Bradbury, Austin Kleon, Lisa Cron, Chris Baty, and, well, presumably another 90+ authors. I don’t know as I’ve not seen the book.

I am obviously flattered that anyone things anything I say is inspirational.

I did, however, comment on Twitter that while I found it flattering, I also found it a little strange that a person was trying to make money off other people’s words. Not just, say, borrowing a quote here and there to bolster a book about writing but, instead, a book of curated quotes said by other people. Regardless of the legality, I found that a bit baffling — charging three bucks on Smashwords to sell what amounts to other people’s content.

Upon commenting (and not naming the person), said author demonstrated a somewhat… aggressive attitude, attacking me and revoking my potential exposure from the book (?) and telling me I “sicken” her (?!) and — well, on and on. I obviously touched a nerve. I’ve since heard from other authors (I’m so tired I originally typed that as “author others” which perhaps works, too) that she’s given them some problems in the past — so, hey, whatever.

Point is, it escalated quickly.

Her defense of using my quote was “fair use,” which it may be — I don’t know because again, I have not seen the book. (She’s reportedly cribbing a quote of mine from 250 Things You Should Know About Writing.) One assumes I am expected to pay for the book to be inspired by myself? Is that a good deal? It doesn’t feel like a good deal.

Let’s talk about when you can use another author’s — or artist’s — work.

Assume the answer is “not without permission,” especially when you’re profiting from the use.

Now, that’s not necessarily functionally true. “Fair use” is a real thing, but it’s very rarely as cut and dried and one would prefer. The author’s dead, so it’s fair use? The estate may yet be involved. It’s before a certain date so it’s fair use? Again, the estate may be involved or there may be other legal entanglements. It’s just a quote, so it’s okay? Maybe. Maybe not.

This is a pretty good look at fair use, from NOLO.

It asks whether or not you’re contributing new content or just repurposing old content. It notes, too, that the amount of material cribbed is less important than the quality and value of material cribbed. Lots of little vagaries and legal eddies you may get caught in, which is again why I say:

Always ask the author or artist. It’s just good to be safe.

I have people sometimes repurpose entire terribleminds posts, and I usually ask as politely as possible that they excerpt the post and link back. (To be clear, I don’t fight if they don’t back down, generally. Is that really the hill I want to defend? Probably not.)

For the record, I’m entirely supportive of folks using quotes or excerpted material in blog posts or across social media or in educational material — long as the author isn’t making money off me or my work, I’m pretty loosey-goosey with how my stuff gets out there. If you’re not sure if your use falls on the right side of this, you can always email me at terribleminds at gmail dot com and I’m happy to chat. I won’t bite. Unless cornered. Or paid handsomely.

Some really nasty business went down in Boston yesterday, as I’m sure we all know. It’s tough stuff, and as I said yesterday on Twitter, it becomes easy to fall into the trap of cynicism and suspicion, fear and finger-pointing, but for me it’s about trying to pull away from those baser instincts and look to the people doing so much good immediately after the shit hits the fan. (That proven Mister Rogers quote about “looking for the helpers” is one I’ll share with my son when he’s old enough to parse this sort of thing.

Yesterday I said a related thing, which was, “The evil of a handful of fuckos cannot be allowed to outweigh the love the lion’s share of us can and do feel for one another.” Patton Oswalt said a similar thing (I’d link but I’m writing this from my iPad in a hotel room in Florida): “So when you spot violence, or bigotry, or intolerence of fear or just garden-variety misogyny, hatred or ignorance, just look it in the eye and think, ‘The good will always outnumber you, aand we always will.'”

I ruminated a little too on the images of violence that spring up after this sort of thing — on the one hand, I think seeing the realities of war and violence is useful if only so it turns us away from any potential bloodthirst we may have. On the other hand, I don’t know that it works that way, particularly when images that trend toward gore porn end up in front of us without warning — stuff like that can trigger some deep emotional responses in people, including depression or PTSD

Someone then responded on Twitter with an interesting question of whether or not I feel bad about the violence in my fiction, and my thought then and now was, well, that’s a bit different, isn’t it? Violence in fiction is, first of all, fiction. But it’s generally expected — we read a crime novel or a horror novel, that violence is usually part and parcel. And in the realm of fiction, violence can be framed by context and informed by consequence.

Or, more to the point, it should be. And that, I think, is what I want to say, here — in fiction, violence even in silly pulp material is best when it has some sense of consequence behind it. It isn’t just candy-floss or cartoon fun — a fist thrown always hurts the hand. Things happen as a result to violence. Sometimes good things. But something always bad, too. Even in the Dinocalypse series I try to inform the pulp action with a sense of cause-and-effect; the pulp heroes aren’t violent because they like it, they’re driven to it because that’s sometimes how you stop the bad guy. But even still there exists a kind of lightly erosive, corrrosive component to it — like I said, even if that is just so simple as a hand that hurts after throwing a punch.

Anyway, random thoughts here — apologies for the slap-dash nature of it, but such is the way of hammering together a post while on a trip. I’ll be back home later today (well, much, much later today), so, see you on the other side.

EDITED TO ADD:  If you want to do something for Boston, beware scam charities or “RT this and we’ll donate” nonsense. Best option right now is to donate to the Red Cross or donate blood — though I don’t suspect that the blood will go to Boston.