Fanfare for Graham Storrs

Some time ago a bunch of writers came together for a short residential workshop to develop our Spec Fiction manuscripts; we were the first winners of a national award run by Orbit Publishing and the Queensland Writers Centre.

 And we were pretty terrified.

 The residential was in a quite lovely facility on Bribie Island, a beach nearby, lots of quiet all around. Fully catered, even with its own wet bar; we didn’t have to do anything except write and meet publishers, agents and each other.  Marianne De Pierres, author of the Parrish Plessis novels, the Sentients of Orion series plus the Tara Sharp yarns also stayed with us. That’s right, she didn’t just jet in for a quick hello darlings, she stayed in the trenches with us and was always available for a chat, some counseling or even just a glass of red. Or two. I am a big fan of this lady, not only for her writing but for her generosity of spirit.

 We met that first afternoon around a big table after catching glimpses of each other as we all arrived. Now I want you all to get a sense of what we were feeling here that afternoon; none of us had had a book published bar one; we were all a bit nervous.

 Personally, I felt that everyone else had earned their place by being a brilliant writer but I was just a schmuck. At each point in the registration process (getting the key to the room, confirming with the convenor that we had, in fact arrived, etc etc) I was sure that the mistake would be revealed. What mistake? The mistake that said I was invited into this group. Heck, these we REAL writers.

 Yep, I was sure that, at any moment, someone official would step forward and say, “I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Hornby, but there’s been a mistake. You shouldn’t be here because you’re writing wasn’t good enough.” And then there would be that long, lonely walk back to the car while everyone watched.

 Just like being back at school, really.

 That afternoon we all discovered that none of us could embark on a life of crime, or be a spy, or work undercover. It turned out that we all felt the same way. By the end of the week we had shared a lot; our stories, our hopes and fears (writers have a lot of them) and our friendship. We now call ourselves the Orbiteers.

 One of our group, Luke Keioskie, had been published once before and so we held him in high esteem, especially after he schmoozed the chef into getting the bar to stay open late on that first night. Luke has had his manuscript published since that week – check out Dead America for a truly wondrous yarn about zombies.

 But the reason for this post is another Orbiteer – Graham Storrs. Graham will have his first novel published NEXT MONTH and has agreed to stop by this blog and do a guest spot. He has his own blog which is redolent with intelligence, thought provoking insights and current news in the world of writing. None of which you will find in my blathering.  I was lucky enough to read a draft of his novel, “Timesplash” and I have to say he is one of those rare SF authors who can plot out a detailed storyline with depth and elegance. I’ll just embarrass him totally now – he reminds me of Arthur C Clarke in his ability to make things real. Real people and real events.

 So next month you will have a treat. Graham will do his best to elevate the level of discussion normally inhabiting this blog; he will ignore the cheap laugh, he will forswear the insipid jibe, he may even attempt some good grammar. Stranger things have happened.

 I, however, will throttle each of his intellectual sallies; any of his insights shall probably be lost in my vapid mumblings and I urge discerning readers to look elsewhere for accuracy in current news reporting. The poor man will undoubtedly require some form of therapy after guesting here. As we speak I am preparing fart jokes.

 Be afraid. Be very afraid.