Canister X – A.P. Fuchs: Zombie, Paranormal Romance and Superhero Novelist, Blogger, Artist, Publisher

Canister X Newsletter Vol. 1 No. 6

September 2010

This month has been absolutely insane in terms of workload, which is why this edition of the newsletter is coming to you on the last possible day.

Aside from being busy personally with weddings, birthday parties, family stuff and Spider-Man: Shattered Dimensions (yeah, yeah, I know), professionally I’ve been working like a madman to get Possession of the Dead done on time so I can launch it at Central Canada Comic Con at the end of October.

So many days were spent logging in 4,000 words or more into the book, never mind rewrites, edits, formatting, and all the rest. As of this writing, I still have to piece together the cover, wait for my wife to finish reading it as first reader, and get the sucker off to press.

This is whirlwind publishing at its finest. However, despite the late nights, stressful days and all-round craziness, I’ve learned to really push myself creatively on a daily basis and have discovered what I’m capable of in terms of work production. This knowledge has now opened up doors for me, these newly-learned skills now something I can take forward into future projects.

I hope you celebrate this crazy workload with me next month when Possession of the Dead is released by buying either a paperback or eBook edition of the book. Thanks in advance.

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This month also brought around a foreign rights interest in Coscom Entertainment’s titles. Nothing is in stone yet so I can’t say who or what. I’ve been down this road before so I know not to go cracking open the champagne until ink is on the page. Just a heads up, however.

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As mentioned above, I spent a lot of time playing Spider-Man: Shattered Dimensions, the newest Spider-Man game out there. (I play on a PS3.)

I usually play a game on easy mode first, just so I can get deep into it, explore and learn more about it without constantly getting stuck, so finishing Spider-Man only took a few days. However, there are additional challenges per level you need to do aside from just beating the bad guy, and every time you beat a challenge, you get points (spider essence) plus you unlock new combat moves, and character features like health and costumes. There are 180 challenges in total and I’m sitting at 173 completed (I think). You’re able to go back and replay levels to complete them. When I hit 180, then I’m going to do the game again in normal mode, which in turn unlocks behind-the-scenes stuff like wallpaper art. The hard mode unlocks other things as well.

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If you’ve been watching my Twitter feed, you’ll know I heard from Hughes Capital Entertainment in LA just the other day. I’m waiting to connect with them either by phone or email to see what’s going on. Let’s hope the news is good.

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It’s a new season of Smallville, the final one, and the premiere was on the 24th. The premiere had us off to a promising start, planting seeds for future episodes, and a few twist moments. I’m particularly interested in when Clark becomes Superman, especially now that we’ve seen the suit, and also when he gets his glasses because right now, the whole secret identity thing doesn’t make sense as, because he’s working at the Daily Planet, people there know what he looks like without his glasses.

I’m sure this season’s story arc involving Darkseid will play into–maybe–some kind of time alteration or memory wipe or whatnot.

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The Canister X comic book project is still a go. I’m still at 11 pages because all of September was spent writing. There’s still a chance the first issue will be out by the end of October. We’ll see, but, yes, the comic is coming and once one issue is out, then more will follow and in a timely manner.

Speaking of art, I uploaded some of my old artwork to DeviantArt as a kind of showcase. It’s a work-in-progress in that more will be added as time goes on, especially once the Canister X comic is out. In the meantime, you can check it out here.

Lastly, in regards to comics, my wife, Roxanne, finished her comic book and is now in the inking stage. We’ll be releasing it at the comic con at the end of October. The book is called Fuzz Society and has a fan group on Facebook here. Please join and show her support. I read the comic and it’s really good and I’m not just saying that because I’m her husband. It’s coming out through Coscom Entertainment and I wouldn’t publish it unless it was publish-worthy. Really excited and happy for her.

Thanks again for tuning in. See you in October.

Best,

A.P. Fuchs
Winnipeg, MB
September 30, 2010

This morning I met a reporter for The Metro for an interview. The article will be published in next week’s edition, plus it will also run in The Herald. I was told it might run in a couple other weekly papers we have around here, depending on space. The article will also run on-line so I will link to it here when it’s available.

Last night my wife got busy inking her comic. We also started a Facebook “like” page for her. The comic is called Fuzz Society. Please go here to see and “like” it, too.

This afternoon will be spent finishing my final read-through of Possession of the Dead as I’ve set either tomorrow night or Thursday as my press time. I’ll post the finished cover with lettering once I have it ready.

Why I Probably Won’t Become a Full-Time Writer
by Kody Boye

I’m often asked if I want to be a full time writer. Given my age and my list of credentials, my writing is something that people immediately latch onto once they hear how many times I’ve been published, regardless of the scope of said publications or what they actually amount to on a résumé. You’ve been published how many times? they ask, then look on in disbelief. Afterward, they usually go on to say something along the lines of ‘you’re going to go places,’ but where those places are, I’m not necessarily sure, nor am I sure if I want to go there.

I grew up submerged in the world of fiction. Given my state of life and the area I grew up in, I was often forced to throw myself into something imaginary in order to make up for the things in life I didn’t have. Happiness, adventure, the feeling that you’re important and that you could one day accomplish something great—such things are found in fiction, just as such things are necessary in order to live life to the fullest. A bleak existence isn’t especially pleasant, which is why, when I found my muse, I used it to escape.

Escape—it’s a simple word, to be sure, but it has a lot of connotations. Much of this post would be taken up by personal recollections of suicidal thoughts during my early teens and anxiety-filled bouts of doubt during my latter teenage years, but I don’t feel the need to delve into that in order to make a point. Escape, like I said, is a beautiful word, but it’s also more than that—it’s a feeling, one so great and amazing that many people, including myself, use to escape the troubles and burdens of their ordinary lives. My writing was—and sometimes still is—that escape. I used it to channel unhealthy energies, to block advancing anxiety attacks and to create fantasies in which I could live. It was, and still is, a beautiful thing, to fall into a world that allows you to escape everything, if only for a moment.

Last May, I made a big jump in my life and moved to Texas to live with friends. This experience has been life changing in many ways, particularly in regards to my writing. It’s easy to think about things when there isn’t a cloud hovering over your eyes, fogging your brain and disassociating the realistic scenarios that are likely to make up your life. Because of this unclouded view of my world, I’ve begun to realize something that would have shocked me a few years (or even a couple of months) back.

That realization? I’m fine if I never become a full-time writer.

To some, becoming a full-time writer is a dream imagined, though rarely truly achieved. I, too, used to dream of being a writer acknowledged and comfortable in the fact that my craft would always support me. However, a dose of the real-world is always a good waker-upper in regards to what can and what can’t be accomplished. I’m more than aware that becoming a full-time writer is something that can be accomplished—I’ve seen people do it countless times—but after reviewing what has happened to other people and what might be expected of me, I’ll most likely never be a ‘full time writer,’ at least in the sense that I won’t have a day job to substantiate my income. However, that doesn’t necessarily mean this view will change. For the time being, though, I’m trying to enjoy the challenges life throws at me, regardless of how numerous or difficult they are. I enjoy my work, I enjoy my art—I enjoy being me to the greatest authority that I am allowed. I know how possible it is to become bound to something that you wish to control. Roles can switch in an instant. I want to be the one in control of my art, not the other way around.

APF’s Note: Check out Kody’s work on the web at www.KodyBoye.com

Possession of the Dead is getting a new subplot added to it after the book was already handed in to my editor. This is ridiculous and stupid. No one’s fault except mine, but the story needed more oomph. It’s not that I messed it up. It’s a good story, but I wanted to give it more and round it out better. This also helps pave the way for the final book in the Undead World Trilogy.

That said, I cranked out almost 3500 words on it yesterday. Have to do at least 5000 today, if not more, and still need to somehow get to press no later than Sunday night (never mind having a wedding and my nephew’s birthday party this weekend as well). I also need to allow for time for this new edition to not just go through the drafting stages on my end, but go through the editor’s red pen as well, plus all the production stuff.

Today’s forecast calls for lots of coffee, a recharge nap and enough sugar to keep me trembling all week.

Too bad I didn’t sleep well last night. Good times.

What? You thought being a writer is easy? Some days, yeah, but others, like today, are demanding.

But I wouldn’t give it up for anything.

Been keeping a low profile the past couple days as I try and finish up edits to Possession of the Dead so I can send them off ASAP to my editor. I need to get this book off to press soon so I can debut it at Central Canada Comic Con, which is fast approaching (Halloween weekend–sounds like a ways off, but in the publishing world, a month and a half is a very short amount of time).

So that said, I might not be online much this week. To compensate, I proudly present to you the cover art to Possession of the Dead as created by Gary McCluskey.

(Click the image twice to make it big.)

Oh, man, so cool. Wish they were longer.

Clark Kent to Superman. Ten years of coolness. Oh, and is that a certain villain I see? Bring on Lex Luthor!

Enjoy! (Especially this first one.)

Copyright 2010 by A.P. Fuchs. All rights reserved.
22: Just Keep Moving

Selena and I dropped behind a counter loaded with scattered spoons and pots. Both of us breathed quick and short, our breaths echoing the fast beat of our hearts. We looked at each other with wide eyes, knowing the slightest sound would alert the dead to our location. Selena’s lower lip began to tremble. I don’t know why it happened then, of all times, but tears dripped from the corners of my eyes–not because of fear, but of seeing her so scared. I wished so badly I could just wrap my arms around her and shelter her from the undead lumbering into the kitchen, their groans echoing off the walls.
But I couldn’t.
To sit there, eyes closed, pretending we were somewhere else would only ensure our deaths.
So we sat there, as still as statues, hoping the undead wouldn’t shamble around the whole kitchen. If only they’d just leave. The moments ticked by, time seeming to be caught in a slow drip of molasses.
Selena squeezed her eyes shut when a zombie let out a raspy howl. She broke down, sobbing. She did her best to stifle each choking gasp, but the best she could do was make it sound like some kind of inverted sneeze.
The zombies’ footsteps drew closer.
“We’re going to have to run,” I whispered.
She opened her eyes and nodded, her expression clearly displaying she knew it was her fault the undead heard us, her gaze asking me for forgiveness. Even if we were going to die, of course I’d forgive her.
The dead drew nearer and I guessed they were right up against the other side of the counter. How many were there, I didn’t know.
“Arms up and plow through,” I told her. “Let me go first.”
I duck-walked past her then drew my arms up so my forearms were held in front of me like a couple battering rams, my bat held vertical like some kind of flag of land and country. Selena held her cleaver aloft.
“Now,” I said, and stood quickly. Ignoring the head rush, I rounded the counter and propelled myself forward through a pack of zombies about four bodies thick.
“Run!” Selena screamed from behind.
We headed for the kitchen door, leaving the shamblers behind us. We emerged back into the dining room proper, which was now swarming with the undead. Bat in hand, I went to work bringing its razor-covered end into every rotting head I saw. Blood and skin tore from decaying skulls, sailing through the air like a black, red, and gray mist. Selena grunted behind me as she took the cleaver to anything that came near her. Bodies dropped, and I learned a secret to fighting the undead at The Wok: keep moving. You cannot let yourself become stationary when under attack. Just move, move, move and cut your way through like a madman.
My bat sliced open the chest of a woman, the interior of her breasts sliding out like moldy chicken from a couple wet paper bags. I brought the bat up into the stomach of an dead old man, removing his guts, making them drop out to the floor.
“Get to the door!” I said.
“Should have seen if there was a back one,” Selena replied as she drove the cleaver home into a dead teenager’s skull.
“Didn’t see one running off the kitchen.” I took a deep breath, brought my bat against the head of another zombie, then called to her, “We get outside, go right. I think there was an opening there.”
“Opening?”
“Not as many zombies.”
“Okay.”
With a shriek, I ran for the doors, swinging my bat side to side, its bladed end tearing into some of the undead, other times serving more as a battering ram, helping to clear the way. Selena was right behind me. The blade of her cleaver nicked the back of my arm. I barely felt it; just a mild sting. I don’t think she realized it because she didn’t say anything.
We emerged through the broken front doors of The Wok, the zombies out front ambling about in different directions, the majority, however, stumbling toward the restaurant.
“Move!” I shouted.
We headed to the right as planned, taking out as many of the undead as we could. We only fought those who were too close for comfort. When fighting zombies, you see, you don’t make active work of it. The goal is to get away and do what needs doing in that regard. Try to take them on like some kind of He-Man and you’re dead meat.
Half-eaten bodies lined the streets; all missing their heads. Whether that was from other folks killing the undead or from the undead themselves going after the brains, I’m not sure. Some of the bodies were missing arms and legs. Some just a hand or foot. Guts and blood coated the pavement as if a truck filled with paint cans had crashed and spilled black and red and brown and gray everywhere.
The stench of rot was so thick I think I heard Selena throw up while running behind me. I was about to ask her if she was okay when an dead Asian dude stepped in front of me, hands outstretched. I brought the bat down on his arms, tearing through the rotting skin. The bones within broke and what was left of his arms just dangled there at the elbows. I took the bat to his face and dropped him. Selena and I jumped over the body and kept going.
Finally we were able to turn a corner into an alley. Fortunately, it was open-ended so if worse came to worse, we wouldn’t be trapped.
We stopped and put our hands on our knees.
Selena did have a bit of throw up on her mouth. She must have saw me wince because she quickly brought a hand to her face and wiped it away.
“Sorry,” she said.
“It’s okay. Are you all right?”
“No.”
“You hurt?”
“No. Just . . . shaky, grossed out. Sick.”
“I know the feeling.”
We kept an eye on the mouth of the alley as we caught our breaths.
“So thirsty,” I said. “Feels like I’m swallowing a washcloth.”
She nodded. “Yup.”
A shudder ran through me; my legs were weak. I didn’t want to admit it in case Selena was more or less sturdy now. Didn’t want to be the weaker one. Not right here.
“Come on,” I said, and slowly began backing out of the alley the opposite way we came.
“We’re going home, right?” she asked.
Never thought I’d hear her refer to my place as home. “I don’t know. We still need food. I’d rather just get it all in one go instead of coming out later.”
She didn’t reply, and I didn’t want to press the issue in case we’d fight or something.
At the mouth of the alley, opening up onto a new street, I stopped, turned around and surveyed the area to get a handle on things.
I didn’t like what I saw.

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With Coscom Entertainment work out of the way, today’s straight forward:

- Type up edits to draft two of Possession of the Dead
- Print new draft
- Write tomorrow’s Zomtropolis chapter

Very simple. As a reward for getting it all done, I’m going to play Spider-Man: Shattered Dimensions. Bought it yesterday, but my wife had first go at it and I was just a spectator. Today I become the webslinger.