Sunday, October 31, 2010

Dymocks, West Lakes. A Small Gathering of "Dreamers"

Last Thursday evening, I brought "The Hambledown Dream" to Dymocks Book Sellers of West Lakes in South Australia for an evening of book signing and discussion about the story, the characters and the music that characterizes much of my first published novel. 

It was a small gathering by comparison to my other appearances but no less enjoyable. I regard meeting readers as the single most important thing to do as an author. I appreciate that one thing above all others.
Anyway, here is a collection of images from that evening at West Lakes.

Store window display prepared by Lynette Spry of Dymocks, West Lakes.

 The Hambledown Dream on the shelves, in front and behind.

 This is always a nice thing to see.

Meeting with Nat. A new reader of the "Dream".

Meeting with Emma, a big supporter of the "Dream".


Sunday, October 24, 2010

The Rasor's Edge Revisited - Now In Print!!

My good friend and fellow ireadiwrite Publishing alum, John Rasor has announced that his very-tongue-in-cheek retrospective of the TV series phenomenon Lost - How Lost Got Lost - has finally made it's long awaited leap to the printed page. 

I covered John's book back in July in the lead-up to it's digital release and I am so pleased that "How Lost Got Lost" is now available in print.

I wrote then that John first came to notice with his debut novel  "Roadkill", a deliciously sinister tome of a serial killer with a severe case of road rage who patrols the streets of L.A. and the highways of Southern California running down drivers who are using their cell phones while driving. His rage extends from the tragic death of his wife and unborn child in a similar but unrelated incident. "Roadkill" had me thinking of Denzel Washington's "Man On Fire" and more recently, the Liam Neeson actioner "Taken" in which an insatiable desire for revenge feeds the protagonist. I have to confess that I have a predilection for these types of stories.

In the aftermath of what many regard as the greatest "What the Fuck??" ending of a major television series ever,
John has sat down, driven by the need to understand, and has penned what could be the definitive tonic to aid all those Lost fans who are still picking themselves up off of the floor. "How Lost Got Lost" is one Lost fan's labor of love, a soliloquy of pent up frustration laid bare. John Rasor examines the Lost phenomenon in a blisteringly funny narrative that is choc full of valuable insights and measured consideration that seeks to answer that one burning question - W.T.F?

John writes with an unbridled enthusiasm and a genuine love for the series. Though I haven't been a huge devotee of the series Lost, John's ability to speak to the lay person is such that you probably didn't need to be a fan. Since I have come to know John, I have been particularly impressed with his almost encyclopedic knowledge of episodic television and his zest for pop culture which transcends almost all barriers.

Check out John's site where you will find all the necessary links to purchase, what I regard as a landmark publication. John's site is fast becoming a totally engrossing repository of everything great about pop culture vultures. I also encourage you to check out John's interview with Jason of the Brink of Sanity Show where he discusses the book in depth as well as other adventures in TV culture.

John is a great orator and someone who I like a lot.


Sunday, October 17, 2010

Press Release - Book Store To Celebrate Local Author

From the Official Press Release by ireadiwrite Publishing.

Author Dean Mayes╩╝ Breakout Novel Is A Bestseller By This Local South Australian Writer Delta, BC — ireadiwrite Publishing in cooperation with Dymocks Booksellers is proud to present Dean Mayes at a celebration of his romantic paranormal story The Hambledown Dream. Mr. Mayes will be reading from and signing his book at Dymocks Booksellers, Shop 180 West Lakes Boulevard in Westlakes on Thursday, October 28 at 6:30pm.

Download the complete press release here



Monday, October 11, 2010

An Evening With The Hambledown Dreamer.

Poster for Dean's upcoming in store signing and evening at Dymocks/West Lakes, South Australia on October 28th at 6.30PM.

(Refer to the Events page for further details).


Sunday, October 10, 2010

The Final Say - Again!

A couple of weeks ago, I was welcomed into the Radio Adelaide Studios Down Under to chat about my book "The Hambledown Dream" on "The Final Say" with Lauren Decesare and Caitlin Sullivan and play some tracks off it's unofficial/official soundtrack (yes - you read right). Well that interview is available for download here.

Last night (Sunday night), "The Final Say" welcomed me back into the studio a guest cohost and we had an awesome 90 minutes discussing life, the universe and Robin Gibb getting screwed over on live TV. I also comandeered the CD deck to get in some of my favorite tracks, INCLUDING none other than KATG's own Brother Love!! I also got in a mention of my upcoming in store author signing (see my Events page for details of that).

For a little pop culture, Australian style check out the episode we recorded last night.

The Final Say - October 10 2010 - DOWNLOAD .MP3


Sunday, October 3, 2010

The Regenesis Cluster - A Short Story

As still as a mill pond. A surface, mirror smooth, reflecting light and darkness in equal measure so perfectly that it was impossible to tell where the horizon was. It was perfection, this stillness...

It was deathly quiet on the body of water. If there was any sound to be heard at all, it was - perhaps - a distant, disembodied roar of the Earth as it rotated on it's axis, the kind of sound that one can only hear when there is absolute silence. There was not a breath of wind to disrupt the surface of the ocean, thus the moonless, star lit night reflected perfectly off it, creating an illusion of infinite space. Every now and then, streaks of light streamed across the sky - meteors hitting the upper atmosphere - creating an impromptu light show of incredible intensity and brevity.

Nearby was a coast line. Rocky cliffs curved around in a wide bay that flanked the body of water, creating a sanctuary from the open sea. Towering sequoia stood upon the bluff overlooking the sea, as though in wait for the arrival of dawn. The chill night air was close to freezing, influenced in part by the air currents coming off the dense, forested, snow capped mountains inland. Atop the coastal cliffs, a ribbon of bitumen hugged the land mass, in places precariously close to the edge of the granite cliffs. It wound down in an arc identical to the coast to open out parallel to a strip beach front that was steep and surfaced with crushed shells and pebbles rather than sand.

It was perfect in it's solitude. In the depths of the night the sea, it seemed, slept.

The sea held onto it's secrets.

Below the surface, the inky blackness enveloped everything. Here, again, was a world in suspended animation - where nothingness dictated everything. There was no movement, no sound, no current, no light. It was suffocating in more ways than one.

And then from the nothingness - a flash of silver in the gloom, a submerged equivalent of a meteor streaking across the sky above. A lone bottle nosed dolphin coalesced out of the gloom, undulating languidly as it explored this region of water close to the shore. It's sleek body captured a mysterious light source that seemed to come from no-where and reflected off it's silvery gray flank. It was a mature specimen, an adult male, with a smattering of territorial spots adorning it's dorsum. To the trained eye, one could surmise that this dolphin had returned it's own waters. Indeed, the mammal had spent long months in the open sea, had traveled thousands of miles after having become lost from his pod. He was desperately lonely, pining for his own kind. So it was with a great sense of relief that he had found his way back to this stretch of coast where he had been born. He could sense his number somewhere close by.

The dolphin slowed to a stop and floated a few feet below the surface for several minutes as though in a state of suspended animation. The mammal was thoroughly exhausted and he allowed himself a few moments of pause now that he knew he was close to home. The turbulent water the dolphin had stirred up behind him and around him as he braked dissipated until the stillness returned. He drifted upward as though curious about the surface and what lay there. In the background of the brilliant star field above, the dolphin's black form stood prominent - like a shadow of Pisces.

Mere millimeters from from the meniscus, the dolphin gave an almost imperceptible flick of it's fins, holding fast before he could break the surface of the water. He wasn't yet in need of air. He began to descend once more.

In the stillness of the water he drifted slowly and so slightly that his aerodynamics did not disturb the water around him. The dolphin closed it's eyes, relaxing into the cradle of the sea, tempted to keep falling into the blackness, so tired was he.

From somewhere far below a single bubble rose, closing in like a tiny missile on the mammal. A perfectly formed, spherical pocket of air unmolested by current or debris, ascended through the darkness, it's jewel like surface similarly capturing that mysterious light source from...somewhere..., in the same manner as the dolphin's body had.

The dolphins perfectly attuned biological sonar, that was designed to pick up on the most insignificant contact failed to detect the miniscule current disturbance from the bubble as it rose upward, ever upward towards it.

The bubble made contact with the underside of the dolphin, spreading out as it impacted silently, it's form compressed as flat as a pancake until it split in two like the nucleus of a cell. In that instant, the dolphin's eyes snapped open. As the two separate parts of the bubble rippled up both of it's flanks, the dolphin was startled by the disembodied sound of a guttural scream - a human scream - a scream of anguish that seemed to emanate from inside the air bubble itself.

As one half of the original air bubble broke free from of the hydrostatic grip of the dolphin's body, it passed before the dolphin's eye. His pupil focused on the undulating pocket of air.

Time slowed to a crawl...

A face, a human face - a man's face, his features contorted into a mask of horror screamed into the darkness around him from inside the bubble.

The dolphin flinched, panicked at what he had just witnessed. The moment was so fleeting, the moving image disappeared from his field of view so quickly, the mammal was disoriented...which only fed into his now heightened state of anxiety.

He flicked his body upward, breaking free of the darkened depths and surfaced, a large gout of water issuing forth from his blow hole. The dolphin hovered there for several minutes, the adrenaline coursing through him still, until he felt calm return. The silence of the night above soothed him.

As the dolphin drifted, his now attuned sonar suddenly alerted him to a new contact rising from below - two contacts this time.

Curiosity replaced his previously startled anxiety and the mammal hooked himself over and dove beneath the surface, honing in on the two new bogeys...

Download the entire article from the "Articles & Short Stories" Section of the Site.