I’ve been hard at work preparing the next Pegasus Pulp e-book for publication. This time around, it’s the first of several stories and novellas I wrote about the Silencer, a masked vigilante in the tradition of the pulp mags of the 1930s.
So here’s a short linkdump instead of a longer post:
At the Book View Café, Judith Tarr has a great post about empathy, historical fiction and writing the Other.
The Guardian has an extensive interview with Alan Moore about the release of the latest installment of the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. The latest League installment is set in 1969 which could almost tempt me to buy it.
Seaside History is a wonderful site dedicated to the seaside resorts of Britain.
Now I have a weakness for British seaside towns with their weird mix of tackiness and glamour. It’s probably because they are so different from German seaside towns. German seaside towns are the dullest places on Earth. The age average is about 75 and nothing ever happens. Walking around a place like Duhnen (I usually have to go there once a year doing translation for conferences and visiting business people) is like walking around after the zombie apocalypse. British seaside resorts, however, have it all. Amusement parks, Victorian piers, fish ‘n chips, fresh sea cockles on the promenade, lights and glitter and girls in outfits so outrageous they’d make prostitutes blush elsewhere.
Yes, I totally love British seaside towns, as the various photos of Blackpool among the rotating header images prove. I have watched countless of obscure British TV shows and documentary for a glimpse of that good old seaside glamour, from the absolutely wonderful like Coasting, the best TV show you’ve never seen, to the pretty damn awful such as a totally depressing Welsh show full of Doctor Who and Torchwood flotsam and jetsam. Whatever it is, I’ll watch it or read it, because British seaside towns are one of my personal story kinks.
In fact, it’s so much of a kink for me that “the novel” is partly set in a British seaside town. I made up my own town, though, partly because it gave me greater freedom on architectural and landscape details and partly because I did not want to saddle a real small town with a horrific murder that never happened.