I enjoy anything about George Smiley and his time during the Cold War. I thought we would never come across him again after Smiley's People. Then this story came along. Often George Smiley only has cameo roles in some of his stories. This is one where George is a secondary character. The main man is Ned. Ned has been retired from the Circus spy network. It is about 1989 or 1990. The Cold War is over. He has a class of up and coming hopefuls for Britain's world of espionage. Ned writes a letter to his old mentor George Smiley. He is inviting him to a seminar for the young graduates. The reserved and long retired George Smiley accepts the invitation and turns up for the seminar much to Ned's delight and surprise. As George Smiley starts to give his lecture and answer questions to the young graduates, Ned finds himself reminiscing episodes from his past where George Smiley plays parts within the various stories. We see other characters too. Toby Esterhase, Peter Guillam and the infamous Bill Haydon. This is absolute peach, Le Carre. All the old favourites come out. I loved it all and enjoyed the old style Cold War feel. I can't wait to read The Gathering of Spies.
I've always wanted to view The War of the Worlds from another perspective. My new vision would remain in the same steampunk realm of Victorian Britain. I admired that era in history. I thought it would be exciting for a reader to see the apocalyptic world through another pair of eyes.
Many of us fantasise about escaping into a domain of science fiction. I still live in a schoolboy’s imagination where I can go on grand adventures and battle mythical Titans. Of course, I always defeat them. I also enjoy historical stories. The feel of being in the land of yesterday is stimulating. From an early age, my mind has always been full of fantasies. I was captivated by the notion of dystopian lands or themes with a turbulent and exciting past.
The War of the Worlds fits into sci-fi and historical genres. I freely admit to being biased towards this story on account of it being British based. I'm compelled by much that has a British feel. I also know there are fabulous and wonderful stories from across the world that deserve applause.
I remember enjoying The Day of the Triffids and The Chrysalids. Both the novels were written by John Wyndham. I read them during my English literature course. On the historical front, I had fallen madly in love with Lorna Doone. I thought R.D. Blackmore's compelling story was a joy. I never wanted it to end. I wanted to be John Ridd winning the affections of the fairest lady of my fantasy.
In my English literature class, the teacher (Mrs Foster) would get each pupil to read allowed for a few pages before selecting another student to continue. Gradually, we developed confidence as we read aloud. My English teacher was very good at encouraging us to be bold and clear when reading. Those pupils that were slow at first, began to read with seasoned ease after a short time. Sometimes the teacher would stop and explain issues that the author was trying to get across. Mrs Foster was also very articulate. When she spoke to the class we listened. She had total control of all us adolescent boys. Many of us fancied ourselves as Jack the lad. But not in Mrs Foster’s class. She was not a strict teacher and was never given to scolding us. She did not have to. This was because she had that infectious enthusiasm to get us into the books. It worked. We all lived inside the pages and chapters. We were encouraged to dive into these worlds and escape. My adrenalin would soar. My imagination knew no bounds. I wanted to live in a world of danger.
I’m certain the idea of writing my own story germinated in those English literature classes back in the seventies decade. A happy time when I was at my secondary school. It left me with a love of books. When I started work in the city of London, I always looked forward to commuting. I would have my book to read going to, and coming home from work.
When I first read The War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells, I started to imagine how I might be a Victorian British sailor from the time of 1898. This occurred when reading a particular episode that compelled me to dwell on the incident for a long time afterwards. Perhaps a little on the obsessive side. I was on board the HMS Thunder Child. I could see H.G. Wells’ horrendous portrayal of Britain in panic. The alien fighting machines shooting heat rays and blanketing the conquered land with sterilizing black smoke. In reality, I was sixteen and going work in London. The year was 1977 and the train was rolling along. I was a low-grade filling clerk in a Re-insurance company. I watched underwriters dealing with Re-insurance brokers from Lloyds. Yet I wanted to be sixteen and in the Victorian Royal Navy of 1898. In this illusion, I was low-grade sea cadet watching the powers that be deal with this uncanny situation. A surreal world where giant Martian contraptions stalked the Earth.
I wanted to know more about the HMS Thunder Child and her plucky crew. The intrepid ship was a monument of heroism. The most valiant vessel on Earth. Mythical, but real in my mind's eye. A reader could live in that danger and return to a cosy chair afterwards. How did the Victorian ship arrive at such a circumstance? Perhaps the crew had never seen such things as the Martian fighting machines. The HMS Thunder Child would be at sea. News of such alien abominations would come via strange semaphore messages. Imagine the surreal information coming from the shore stations. Invaders from Mars striding about and destroying the entire fabric of human civilization. Would you believe such outrageous fixations? The HMS Thunder Child would be alive with speculation and disbelief.
As readers of the original story, we would know these sailors would be destined to confront three Martian fighting machines. The huge monster tripods that will wade into the River Blackwater to attack a paddle steamer full of fleeing refugees. The small ironclad would steam to the rescue. The coal-driven engines would move her between the Martians and the escaping boat. The HMS Thunder Child against the monumental three. Each abomination, a colossal edifice of battle. That would be the final goal of the story. Everything must lead to the climactic conflict. The small section of the original story. A pastiche to lure an avid science fiction reader.
When the time was right.
One day, I decided I would go further with my pretence. I would go aboard the legendary ship and invite others who might wish to come along. I would write a pastiche story dedicated to The H.M.S. Thunder Child. I began to imagine the captain and other ranks. I looked through history books and decided the ship would look like HMS Devastation. I knew my aim for the story. I had an end before the adventure had started. Now I needed a beginning and a compelling storyline between start and finish. There were so many rudimentary ideas. With these basic concepts, I begin to write things down. As I did, more thoughts began to manifest and soon my appetite for the tale began to take control.
I Needed a New Perspective.
The classic sci-fi tale could be shown from a new and unique perspective. I wanted to re-create the dystopian world of Victorian Britain in chaos. Being on board the HMS Thunder Child would be a magnificent way to offer a fly on the wall account. Watching from the sea as though one could be a spectator from a safe distance. A new viewpoint through the eyes of the Royal Navy crew. The pastiche novel had to convey a greater understanding and appreciation of the original classic.
The Pastiche Project
Step1. The Tale Begins to Develop
The book was an enjoyable venture and many fine ideas fell into place. The delightful indulgence took the best part of a year. A little here and there. It became my hobby. A forbearance that took up much of my free time. A tolerance that I easily allowed for myself. It was like being an artist trying to paint a landscape. Except my panorama was with words and it could move. The whole endeavour was wonderful and very absorbing. Gradually I got to the finishing line of my written work contribution.
Step 2.The Next Phase of the Story’s Creation
No matter how pleased we should be with ourselves we must stop and think. We are pleased because we have got all of our wonderful words down on a canvas of creation. We must get a liberated assessment. Especially if the writer is an independent author. There will be many mistakes and a good critic will wade in and unpick every sentence.
I knew that the next step for my story would require proper editing. I put my project before a board of qualified editors. They began to bid for the editorial work of my story. These bids came with an overall price and some sample pages to show what the editorial work looked like.
Step 3. Choosing Your Freelance Editor
It is important to know that good online editorial agencies have a list of qualified editors. These people must have all the relevant qualifications. The agencies will check these and only recruit freelance editors that make the grade. It is important to know that there are a lot of predators out there.
I selected an editor after some sample pages came back. There were many that were good and choosing from so many fine bids was hard. I was spoilt for choice. Then the professional editorial work followed, chapter by chapter. There were many errors that I had missed time and again. I was pleased that I had accomplished the written work but realised I could not see the wood for the trees. Each page seemed to be a sea of red. Nothing escaped scrutiny. I got my page in red and the edited one side by side. Although I was shocked by the many errors, when I read the newly edited version, I was thrilled by how better the story flowed. I would advise any independent author to get good editorial work done.
Step 4. I Needed a Front Cover to Capture One’s Imagination.
After the editorial work came the front cover. Again, there were so many artists that put in bids for this work. There were lots of wonderful samples. I felt guilty having to choose one and reject so many other fabulous bids. I think the completion of the cover design caused my excitement to reach a new and undreamed of height. This was it. The moment had arrived.
Finally.
My adaptation was done. A science fiction and alternative history pastiche of H.G. Wells' War of the Worlds. The Martians did fall from the sky in 1898. I could offer science fiction lovers a chance to join the crew of the HMS Thunder Child as she embarked upon her incredible voyage. Walk her decks before her courageous battle with three Martian tripod fighting machines. An action that takes place on the River Blackwater in the county of Essex, England, the UK. The golden age of Queen Victoria's Empire. An alternative British Empire in a more dreadful circumstance. An empire that is vanquished within days.
I loved the ship and the effects. I was not sure about the new Klingon look, but hey! Star Trek is a form of escapism right. I mean complaining about the Captain and the first officer being beamed over to the Klingon ship to do a highly dangerous mission is stupid. Is it? When there are loads of rank and file crewmen that are more expendable? Well... let's be honest, I'm sure Kirk did it. So did every other Captain on that note.
The new SJW Federation ideology certainly has messed things up. I feel they have left a bad signature for this TV series. I liked the special effects but I found myself wanting the Klingons to win. I could understand the point of view of not wanting multiculturalism imposed. I felt it was trendy left wing from the start. When the Klingon did break into an English statement, it was to mock what the Federation would say. "We come in peace." I could see how this Klingon thinks that would be sinister. The Red Indians were often told this, but I suppose those populist xenophobes deserved all they got. I hope it improves, but I'll not hold my breath.
As for the first officer! How did she ever get to such a position with her horrendous attitude? Even physically assorting the Captain and trying to take over the ship. I felt as though the federation were a bunch of clowns messing up a major drinking session at a wild party.
The Klingons clearly knew what they were doing. I had sympathy for them. I'll watch a few more episodes with the vain hope it improves. Maybe see things from the other point of view because up until now, I understand that this alien race and to some extent, we viewers do not want to be polluted by new SJW Federation ideology. All in all, a very sad start to a much-loved TV series. It looks as though it has been hijacked by the trendy lefty brigade. Sorry but this was nothing short of anti-white propaganda. If you don't like imposed multi-culturalism you are a xenophobic (white person) Klingon. I stand by what I have said concerning the beginning of the TV series. It was an awful start. However, as the weeks progressed; the characters are becoming more human. Especially Michael! Wow! The person is beginning to lighten up. Some vulnerabilities etc. Some kindness and appreciation of friends. The pilot and the first episode after were very disappointing. As the show progresses I'm suddenly becoming drawn to the plots that are beginning to unfold. Michael's character is a big improvement plus the re-addition of Tyler from the pilot episodes.
As I was in the recreation grounds of Chatteris on Saturday, Bob, my workmate directed my attention to a hot air balloon floating over the hamlet. It was moving at speed. Though I could not feel too much of a breeze at ground level. Perhaps the buildings broke the breeze in the parkland where I stood looking up.
Every now and then, a flame ignited from the hanging basket. The orange tongue of flame seemed to flicker just below the hole at the bottom of the balloon. I suppose this was to keep the air inside the balloon warmer than the outside air. Hot air rises and so would the balloon and persons inside the basket.
I wondered what it was like for the passengers of the hanging basket looking down or out across the retro British panoramic views of the Fenlands. The old fens that never seem to change. Part of me would like to do such a thing, but there is also another part of me that would not like the height up there in the open.
My wife and I had decided to go to Spalding, Lincolnshire to get a few odds and ends. We could have gone to town or any other number of places but we decided on Spalding. It was a whim. We do this now and then when driving around the Fenland. On the way back, we decided to do some more scenic travelling. Just to be nosy and see the odd town we knew of but had not yet visited.
As we got to the roundabout coming out of Spalding, I asked Carole if she fancied going home via Holbeach. She said yes as we both like to explore. After a few twists and turn offs along the various country lanes we came into Holbech. We got to the town centre and were stopped at some traffic lights. They seemed to stay on red for ages. We were at a crossroad. From where we sat, the little group of shops looked promising. There was a couple of old shops selling retro British things from the past. As the lights finally went green we cut across and turned into a car park.
We got out and walked back out of the car park to the retro shop selling all sorts of odd things from the past. There were actually two of these shops next to each other. Because it was Sunday, the establishments were closed. That was as good as it got. Apart from the old church, there was nothing else of interest apart from a huge supermarket. We had never seen so many empty shops and closed down public houses. The town centre seemed void of most shops. The town was a typical example of looking good at first sight but had nothing to offer. We soon went back to the car and decided Holbeach need some TLC in the town centre. Apart from the two retro shops and the old church, Holbeach was a bit of a letdown. The place seemed neglected in the town centre. It needs shops that are open. Not derelict. It was like something out of The Walking Dead dystopia TV series.
E-readers can compare a multitude of fabulous fiction books to read. One can sit on a train or bus and go online to the various ebook suppliers and roam the online bookstores. The growing online fiction book market leaves the commuter spoilt for choice as the individual searches through a multitude of fine fiction books of various interest. All to read online.
With the various publicity stunts and huge sums of money in advertisement applied to some of the best-selling books, the reader is not always presented with the best fiction books on offer. There are thousands of books to read online and whatever the reader favours, there is bound to be a multitude of choice in any genre. If one does a good search first.
I’m trying to target the reading fan who likes to compare best historical or sci-fi books to read. It is not always the best-selling fantasy books that can excite the reader and take them away into a fantasy world – away from the humdrum motion of the rocking train. Sometimes it can be the more obscure titles that become a top fantasy book to read.
I would like to propose a fiction book to read online. Of course one can buy it in paperback, but I’m targeting the work commuter who wants to use the various e-reader devices and compare benefits of reading great online fiction.
Try this retro British Sci-Fi fantasy book set in Victorian Britain. An adaptation of a Martian Invasion from a top-selling Sci-Fi story of all time. It is on sale now.
