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RIP Leonard Nimoy

OMG! Leonard Nimoy was beamed up … and has left us way too early.

Damn that Scotty, his timing is out of whack!

I am so saddened to hear of Nimoy’s passing. My sincere and deepest condolences to all his family and friends. I am sure we will all remember him with many a fond memory!

To quote Nathan Fillion, “I have been, and always shall be, your fan.”


Quebec at night

You Know You’re A Quebecker


You know who Bernard Landry or Pauline Marois are
You eat poutine at least once a week
You take offence if you are called French
You watch Le Canadiens, religiously
You still eat ice cream when it’s minus 30 below
You know the words to the National anthem, in French
You discuss sovereignty over beer while watching a hockey game
You measure distances between cities in hours not kilometres
You know there are only two season, Winter and July
You lived through the 1998 Ice Storm, or know someone who did
You know what a Sugar Shack is
You take your holidays at the same time as the “Construction Holidays”
You order your pizza “all-dressed”
You can add GST/sales tax in your head faster than IBMs Watson
You “Interac” when you go shopping at the mall
You do the “Québec Lotto” every week though no one in Québec has ever won
You regularly see rubber chickens hiding in potholes
You laugh at 10 feet of snow and drive 100 km to visit friends
You know what a CEGEP is and went there before university
You know who Luky Luke, Asterix, Gaston, Tintin and Marsupilami are
You read Safarir magazine, L’Actualité and 7 Jours
You watch Passe-Partout, Les Filles de Caleb, La Petite Vie and Omerta
You know the difference between the SQ, SAQ and SAAQ
You know what BS is
You live in the only province that has to fill out TWO tax returns
You carry a RAMQ card
Your girlfriend is a Blonde
You know who the PQ, PLQ, ADQ, QS or CSN, FTQ and CSQ and SFPQ are
You still mourn the loss of your Labrador
You know what the Caisse de dépôt is
You eat at Frite Alors or Ashton


Q&A with author, Kevlin Henney

Kevlin Henney might be considered a man of few words, but is prolific enough when it comes to writing flash and drabble fiction, which he enjoys sharing at Spoken Word events. He generously took time out of a packed schedule to answer a couple of questions, some at length, and explain why he write what he writes.

First up, would you like to tell us a little bit about yourself and background?

I live in Bristol — one wife, two sons, no cats or dogs — and work as a software development consultant. I’ve written books, columns and articles on software development. A few years back, after a brief hiatus (of a couple of decades…), I decided to get back into writing fiction. This was possibly some kind of manifestation of mid-life crisis.

Software development and flash fiction, is there a correlation?

Not sure there’s a direct correlation, and I’m not sure it applies to all software developers or to all flash-fictioneers, but for me there are many connections between the two, some logical and some personal.

Abstraction is common to both, both are acts of communication and, in both, clarity and economy are valued. A story is not simply a rambling collection of words that tell, in simple linear form, everything that happens. You choose what to omit, you re-sequence, you sharpen your words to bring out the characters and significant moments in a plot. Similarly, in code, the best code is not simply a brain dump of “if this is the case, then…”, “… and then it does this…” and “when this happens, then…”. You arrange to make clear the ideas and goals of what is going on, and to keep the low-level mechanics out of the way. You try to capture the essence and emphasise character and interaction.

Although much software is bloated and poorly structured, that is largely a problem of poor practice rather than intrinsic to the nature of code. Much code that is considered exemplary reflects a minimalist aesthetic, an aesthetic that I see paralleled in good flash fiction.

Another thing I think code and fiction share — especially speculative fiction — is worldbuilding. This is obvious in spec-fic, but perhaps not as obvious in code. In code you make choices about how to represent and organise the world of concepts in your software, you create an elaborate and executable fiction based on a number of conceits, some of which are dictated by programming language and some of which come from the metaphors you choose to imagine and describe how the software should work.

As an aside, I have come across a number of software developers — not necessarily a great number, but more than I might have expected — who also write fiction.

What attracts you to writing flash fiction say over short stories and novels?

There is a certain immediacy both to writing it and to reading it. You can often write the first draft in a single sitting or, depending on word count and interruptions, just a few sessions. If you’re after a quick writing hit, this is a way to get it. That said, don’t be fooled: sometimes the run up is longer than the jump and often the editing and refinement is the long tail, but these activities also have a certain immediacy and completeness to them.

When you read a flash you are delivered a story that is complete and evocative in a single reading. Rather than repeated or prolonged immersion, it’s a cold plunge before coming up for air. You drop into someone else’s world with its characters and events, sharply and briefly defined, then you’re back again, but changed.

That is a quality of good flash fiction: the journey is short, but it leaves a strong impression. It is this quality that defines for me another attraction of flash: the challenge of creating a story with these qualities and within such constraints. As in other forms of art, constraints are liberating. They fire creativity and make you focus on your words. There’s no slack to take up purple prose, no space for exposition, no tolerance for grand acts of worldbuilding and backstory. You are forced into a position where you not only cannot be lazy with your words, but where each word carries more weight, where the style is the substance and, in the absence of extensive narrative real estate, you use implication and work with the reader more than in longer forms.

You can also tell different stories. Not every story wants to be a novel, and is not well served by being written as such. A novel can paint a richer view of characters and their connections over a more meandering flow of time that takes in a far broader landscape than a novella or short story. But if the story you want to tell does not have these connections or that landscape, perhaps a novel is not what it wants to be. Likewise, once you hit the shorter, flashier end of the scale you don’t want to tell stories that have been cut to fit. If the story doesn’t fit and would rather burst the banks of the low word count, it deserves a longer form. A good flash fiction is a short short story that would lose something if made longer.

Another aspect of telling different stories is being able to tell stories differently. The shorter a story is, the easier it is to play with ideas and techniques that might grate with longer stories. You can experiment with styles and suspensions of disbelief that work at the quantum scale, but simply wouldn’t scale over classical distances. By the same token, there are stories you cannot effectively tell in flash. Each story has its length: the trick is to find it. In writing, my preference is at the shorter end of the scale.

How would you describe your writing style, fast and furious or thoughtful and planned?

To get started I often need a deadline — either for a submission or something else that I should be doing instead of writing a story! — to bring on the element of fast and furious that will bring the idea to mind or the story to the page, but overall it tends to the thoughtful and considered but not necessarily planned.

Some stories are revealed as they are written, others need to have firmer foundations in my mind before I’m happy to write or rewrite them. Some of the very short ones may be fast-and-furious in their conception, emerging from a time-boxed writing exercise or while I’m waiting at the gate for a flight to be called, but they are generally edited and repented at leisure.

Even when writing longer stories I don’t tend to plan, but I’m often not comfortable starting unless I have a vision of who the story is about, the general arc of the story and some concrete specifics in my mind. Sometimes those specifics are images, sometimes phrases, sometimes the mechanics of the story telling, sometimes the feel of the place of the story. A story may appear in what feels like an instant or kick around my head (for years…) while I wait for a missing piece to fall into place — a ‘big idea’ often misses a character, a ‘clever’ situation often misses a plot, a ‘cool’ way of telling a story often misses actually being a story. I may also spend time reading around and researching, whether science, mythology or history, but not actually planning anything out. So although preparation may often play a part, the precision associated with planning does not.

So rather than planning, it can feel more like adding weights to a balance scale, waiting for it to tip, or getting the edge and corner pieces on a jigsaw sorted, with occasional opportunistic forays into the heart of the puzzlescape, before proceeding to work on the substance of the puzzle. Of course, having the feeling that I grok what the story is about and who the characters are is often an illusion, but it can be a necessary one, one that gets me started.

What do you prefer, dark with an edge, or light and uplifting?

If what I write is a reflection of preference, I guess my writing covers the range from dark to light, but always with an edge. Uplifting is for monkeys and dolphins.

Bristol, huh? Are all the best and brightest of British fiction now living in Bristol?

Of course! Why would they go anywhere else?

Bristol and surrounds do seem to have a lot going on at the moment with writers of all stripes — including prizewinners and professionals — whether literary or genre, from flash fiction to epic novel cycles, from urban fantasy to urban crime, from allohistorical to historical. In terms of events we have BristolConCrimeFest, the Bristol Festival of Literature and many writers’ groups and spoken word events. Bristol has an unusual outlook, two universities, lots of tech, a thriving arts scene, its own currency, a local council that has an emergency plan for a zombies attack, connections to Canada going back to 1497… the list goes on!

Like I said, why go anywhere else? (And no, I haven’t been sponsored by the Bristol tourist board to say any of this.)

You do quite a few readings I see. Do you feel this is a natural outlet for flash fiction, like poetry?

Yes, very much so. Spoken word can add a different dimension to a story and can also be a lot of fun. I think it’s also a natural step: historically, there was little separation between the story and its telling. Many writers already read out their own work out to themselves to check voice and reveal oversights. A good reader can really bring a story to life, and hearing a story read out well often adds something that wasn’t apparent on the page.

But the longer the story the harder this can be, for both reader and listener. With longer works you become restricted to excerpts; with longer readings you are more likely to fall victim to the limits of attention span. In this, flash fiction occupies the same cultural continuum that poetry and popular (and obscure) music fill. You get to have it both ways: as released and at your leisure; live and direct.

Are you to remain the Flash Fiction King, or can we expect a novel from you, in the future? And what’s up next for you in the short term?

Not sure that being enthroned as royalty is quite my thing! I’m sure I’d remember something like a coronation — unless, that is, the after-party was really good. But I’m pretty sure I’d have seen the photos.

I have had a number of stories published in anthologies, both flashes and shorts, and I’m contributing to a couple more, so those should be out this year. As well as the odd flash fiction, I have a couple of longer short stories in the pipeline, so let’s see what happens with those.

As for novels, my current ambition is to not write a novel — and that’s going very well!

Check out: Ashes to Ashes and, Remembrance of things Past.

Far Out-garagex700

Q&A with author, Gautier Langevin

Today I am delighted to showcase Montreal-based author, Gautier Langevin, and his work. Gautier is a partner in Studio Lounak and writes screenplays, novels, and most of all wields his pen and wit in a number of graphic novels and online comics.

Side panel

by Olivier Carpentier

Bonjour Gautier, I’m delighted to have you here. Can you tell our readers a little bit about your background and how you started your writing career in comics?

Eight years ago, when I published my first short stories anthology, I was hanging around with more illustrators and comic book artists than writers (they’re much more fun to party with, to be honest!) as they are today, actually. So comic projects just came out of me naturally, due to some weird social Darwinism, I guess.

As a writer of graphic novels, what comes first, the idea/images or the script for the story?

Most of the time, an ambiance is coming first. At that point, words and images are intricate, feeding one each other, growing around the mood like savage ivy.

The graphic novel, Far Out, is essentially an old-style western featuring, of all things, Robots. Whose idea was this or how did it come about?

The Cowbot aesthetic has already been around for a while (BorderlandsFall Out and Cowboys and Aliens are just a few examples of that meme growing popularity). At first, Olivier Carpentier, the artist working with me on Far Out, made some artwork for prints and apparel produced by our studio in Montreal, because we thought it would make very cool looking products.

Each time we were attending a convention, though, people were asking if the art was based on a comic, so Olivier asked me to come up with a story but also a coherent universe that would “make sense” out of that cool Cowbot concept. It was important for us to build something more than just a sparkling shell; Cowbots can easily be judge as just a gimmicky, so it was imperative to take our time in order to flesh-out the characters and their world.

What other titles, other than Far Out, with artwork by Olivier, have you penned?

A couple of years ago, I wrote a classic western and a fantasy tale with werewolf lumberjacks for two different Quebec comic book anthologies. Our first project is a cyberpunk comic, but it’s still on the shelf. Maybe for the better! [grins]

How hard is it to write a script for a graphic novel, especially when working with a partner doing the artwork?

It’s not more or less hard than writing a short story or a novel, but it’s different in a lot of ways. I would say that the story pacing is a major key to success in comics. Writing for comics is an economy. You have to avoid over writing by letting the images tell the “unwritable.” I really believe that some scenes, some vibrations between characters can lose some of their powers when described with words. Words have sometimes that dangerous entropic force when it comes to suggestion. Comics have taught me to say more by writing less.

Having someone reading your stuff before the publisher is like having one more editorial step in the creative process. Most of the time, the exchange between the artist and the writer is very constructive. I treasure that back and forth between two visions of the same work. If it’s done with respect and honesty, this chemistry can only make the story stronger.


Buckley, by Olivier Carpentier

How does writing a graphic novel compare to writing your up coming historical fantasy novel, Les Routes de Bizard?

Writing Les Routes de Bizard is a real treat because it allows me to dig in a complete different area of my work (it’s my first fantasy story), and at the same time, it’s a comeback to one of my first passion: history (I studied history in college).

If comics have taught me the power of the word economy, Les Routes de Bizard helps me to manage that economy. But that being said, I also consider adding pictures to the book!

From writing in collaboration, to writing alone in your dusty garret, how do you manage your schedule? Do you have any routines that help keep you focused?

Basically, I alternate projects. I can’t do both at the same time, but a comic script is not taking as much time to write as a novel. So I can manage to take brief novel writing pauses to script. I find this schedule very useful to take distance from my work and to trigger the story natural “need” to grow. I see it like a tension game between creative forces, battling each others to have the spotlight in my head. As you may have noticed, I always try to take benefit from the “in between”!

What’s next on the horizon, a screenplay, a graphic novel, a new novel, or a little of everything?

When I will be done with Les Routes de Bizard, I really want to get back to cyberpunk. I don’t know yet what will be the format or the medium of the project, but I think the genre have, more than ever, a lot to say about mankind, machines, cultures and technologies. Not has separate ideas but, like images and words, as an intricate savage ivy. Machines are becoming more and more human, human more and more machine, and as of culture, what else it is but a very powerful technology helping mankind to thrive throughout the tragic wheel of time?

EDITOR: And that, as they say, is Far Out!


Gautier is a French writer and screenwriter born in Montreal. After his degree in literature at the University of Montreal, he created Front Froid with Olivier Carpentier, an organization that promotes comics in Quebec. Since then, he joined Montreal based Studio Lounak as a business partner and contributes regularly to several comics and short stories anthologies (Le Front, TRIP, Contes et légendes du QuébecJe me souviendrai). He also published two books (Sens uniques and M.I.C.H.E.L. T.R.E.M.B.L.A.Y.) and a comic book series called Far Out, where he teams up again with his long-time partner in crime, Olivier.

You can find Gautier online at: WEB | Studio Lounak Kimiq