​Not that I plan to abandon the Beast that Tweets, mind you. It's been a remarkably good thing for me this past year. Among other things, it's introduced me to guys like Constantin and Mollison. And it was Mollison who helped inspire one of the biggest things I've got on the table for 2020. 

But I'm getting a bit ahead of myself, here.
 
Before I get into the things I have on the burner for 2020, I want to take a brief look back at what I learned from the wreckage of 2019's writing year.    

Longtime readers of the blog will remember that I wrote a similar "looking forward" post a year ago. I took myself to task for my failure to accomplish the previous year's writing goals, and I laid out my goals for the upcoming year. 

Of the four upcoming projects listed there, only one of them came to pass: more blogging, including the guest post over at DMR Books' blog.  

Blogging is about the only thing I'm going to put down as a win for 2019. I got barely any fiction written in 2019, and none published. But I did keep a fairly consistent blogging schedule. And that turned out to be a much bigger deal than I expected. 

Doing that forced me to create some regular columns, like my 'Pocky-clypse Now reviews and my Kitbashing D&D series. Both of those proved to be popular, and have managed to get me some regular readers. 

Several posts of mine got shared in regular PulpRev and OSR gaming blog roundups, like Castalia House Sensor Sweep, The DMRtian Chronicles, and Jeffro's Space Gaming Blog. Each time that happened, I've reached a wider audience and gained new readers. 

One of those posts--in which I discuss D&D's baked-in, apocalyptic assumptions—flat-out exploded in popularity, generating 10,000 unique page views, a 300+ comment debate on Facebook, and a comment on my site from Luke Gygax.

​So Adam Lane Smith has a new writing guide out. Short review?

Get it. It's good. Real good. 

Longtime readers of the blog will know I'm a loud, proud fan of Smith's work. His novel Gideon Ira: Knight of the Blood Cross more than lived up to the promise of it's absolutely nutso blurb, delivering violent, bloody apocalyptic action from start to finish.

In addition to being one of the most flat-out fun writers I've had the pleasure to read in recent years, Smith is also productive, churning out seven novels this year, with more ready to go in 2020. As I'm preparing to motivate myself for a better writing year over the Holiday week, I wanted an insight into the mind of a man that's just been flat-out inspirational in terms of both work-ethic and quality of output.

Anyway, I just finished the book. And I'm not at all surprised to report that Write Like a Beast delivered on my expectations. 

What did surprise me was that Smith also helped to decode a bit of writing advice I once received from Lies of Locke Lamora author, Scott Lynch. 

I had the chance to attend a WorldCon a few years back, thanks to it being held in a city near my in-laws' place. During that con, I had a chance meeting with Lynch, and we talked about our mutual favorite SF/F author, Matthew Woodring Stover, who I guess had been something of a personal mentor to Lynch.

I mentioned that Stover's fight scenes were something I was completely awestruck by, and I still hadn't run into anything that quite equalled them in fiction. 

Lynch passed on a bit of advice Stover (a martial artist of some 20-odd years' experience) had given him: "All fights are scenes first and foremost. But all scenes are also fights."

That quote was like a lightning bolt, and it's stayed with me ever since. I've always tried to keep it in the back of my mind when planning out my story scenes, but I never quite had a "nuts and bolts" way to apply it.

Until around 8:00 this morning, that is, when I read Smith's chapter on "choreographing." Suddenly, that old advice clicked in a way that it didn't before. For that advice alone, Write Like a Beast was worth the price of admission.

There's plenty more to it, of course. Smith's book is motivational in tone, offering plenty of inspiration along with the practical advice. Even if some of the advice is aimed towards beginners—and some of it is--Write like a Beast leaves you feeling energized and eager to take on the page.

Which is exactly what every good writing book should do.

Buy this book. Go forth. And conquer. 
​

Welcome back, Wastelanders! 
 
This week's review is one I've been looking forward to. Not only is it the first book review to join the 'Pocky-clypse Now lineup, it's a title I've been eagerly awaiting since the author announced it several months ago.   

I'm talking about Adam Lane Smith's heavy metal, post apocalyptic, Christian knights versus devils pulp-stravaganza, Gideon Ira: Knight of the Blood Cross.

In the interest of full disclosure, I donated to Smith's Kickstarter for this project. And as a backer, I received an early copy prior to general release. Other than that, I don't know Smith. This is an honest review, with no favoritism given or expected.    

If you're a first time reader of this column, a word of caution before proceeding. My reviews always include a detailed summary, followed by a breakdown of the story's essential genre elements, overall critical analysis, and a numerical "Rad Score" based on my personal rating criteria.

In other words, this review will be spoiler-filled.

Normally, I'd follow that format here. But since Gideon Ira: Knight of the Blood Cross won't be available to the general reading public until October 4th, I'm going to change up the format for this one. I'm going to put the spoiler-free Rad Rating first, followed by the somewhat spoiler-y Vitals.

I'll also put one, final spoiler warning before the summary. After that, Wastelanders, you're on your own. The rest of the review is going to be a spoilerific Thunderdome.       

So, what did I think of Adam Lane Smith's blood-soaked demon-slaying adventure epic?

​The Rad Rating:

Because of details like this, the battle scenes never feel repetitive. Each one is genuinely edge-of-the-seat exciting, with stakes that matter, villains you want to see dead, and heroes you want to root for.

What more could an apocalyptic fiction fan ask for?


Man's Civilization Cast in Ruins -

Mostly simple and straightforward, with brief but effective descriptions of ruined cities, abandoned highways, and villages made from salvaged parts. Smith prefers to keep the story moving, without bogging his prose down.   

That said, he manages some nice, clever touches here, brining his post apocalyptic world to life in ways that reflect the characters and their outlook. For example, Gideon muses about the words UNLEADED and DIESEL, reasoning that they must have been sacred to the Ancients, since they wrote them everywhere. To the wandering knight, only something of religious significance could be so common and so widespread. No other explanation makes sense. 

One wonders what he'd make of the real explanation if someone gave it to him. Especially when the fuel source his Order uses to power their hovercraft is revealed later in the book.  

Of all the passages describing society's destruction, though, the real show stoppers are the ones describing the ruined city in in chapters 17 and 18. With its enormous pyramid of packed, piled scrap in the center, this nameless ruin is an awe-inspiring monument to death and carnage, a cultists' and demons' hive built in the hollow corpse of the ravaged world.


Dystopian Survivor Society -

For a bunch of demon-worshiping cultists, the Ba'al cult displays a surprising level of sophistication. There's a clear hierarchy among the demons, the fallen angels, and their human followers, including lines of succession and chains of command. During a pre-mission briefing near the book's climax, mention is made of the vast amount of territory they control to the north. 

In other words, this isn't some unruly rabble. This is a thriving civilization, one that's coming dangerously close to ruling the mortal realm. 

That said, the legions of hell are prone to jealousy, backstabbing, and infighting, and the power vacuums created by the knights' Crusading can lead to bloody power struggles.


Futuristic Bloodsports -

None in evidence yet, although the series is just getting started. I wouldn't be surprised to see depraved gladiator games and contests to the death between the cultists in future installments. I also wouldn't be surprised to see something a bit more civilized, like some kind of futuristic jousting or tournaments taking place among the knights. 

  
Barbarian Hordes -

The highway bandits from Chapter 6 represent the only truly lawless faction in this world, the only reavers and raiders that owe no allegiance to anyone but themselves. That said, their quick and brutal end shows what a stupid choice that is. 

Smith's post apocalypse is one where demons and fallen angels walk the ravaged Earth. Powerful necromancers and witches stalk the ruins, along with legions of demon cultists. Opposed to them are the anointed warriors of God, using salvaged weapons of the Ancestors to hold the darkness at bay.

In other words, this is a world built on faith in—and faith to—something greater than oneself, be it God or devils.

Red Hat and company are the only ones foolish enough to try holding themselves apart from that. In doing so, they've tacitly declared themselves as powerful as those major players, as the demons and devils stalking the world. 

Of course, Gideon Ira makes laughably short work of them, and in doing so, reinforces to the reader that this is not a world of human conflicts. Rather, this is a world of supernatural and metaphysical conflicts. 

And men like Gideon are merely its foot soldiers.
 
 
Badass Warrior Women -

Sister Heather, of the The Iron Doves. She's a stealthy, brutally efficient killing machine, and the Chapter 17 infiltration showing off her skills is one of the book's absolute highlights. 

In the interest of keeping this section relatively spoiler-lite, I will say no more.   


Watch Thou For the Mutant -

Swap out "demons" for "mutants" in this case. I'm not going to make any semantic quibbles. Bottom line, the monsters in this book are memorable and awesome.

As with violence, Smith has a gift for creating unique and vile creatures. From the feathered Pride demon in the opening chapter—described as hulking and ape-like, with reptilian jaws and insect-like chitin covering its body—to the fallen Angels with their profane, stained glass wings and molten silver eyes.  

What's more, Smith doesn't shy away from showing us these demons are evil. Casual atrocities like the slaughter of a village's adult population are just the prelude to the organized, large-scale sacrifice of that same village's children. Screaming girls have their entrails ripped out on altars. Temple floors are gore-soaked charnel houses, with the demons promising momentary power and respite to those that would serve them.

These aren't a bunch of misunderstood muties, Wastelanders. These are unholy abominations in need of a good purging. 

And Gideon Ira is just the man for the job.


FINAL WARNING: DETAILED SPOILERS AHEAD!


​The Story:

The book opens in a warren deep below the earth, where power armored knight Gideon Ira is locked in a death struggle against a feathered demon. 

Ira battles the creature tooth and nail, and the reader gets a glimpse of the power-armor's capabilities. Ira deploys revolver, sword, and enhanced strength to little effect, but the creature does not fall. It's only when Ira wraps his rosary beads around his fist, literally beating the demon monster down with his own faith, that the creature begins to show signs of defeat. 

Now, with the creature weakened, Ira is able to activate his sword's hidden plasma cutting edge. He finishes the monster, removes its head, and rides back to the nearby town of Blackbriar.

And with that, Wastelanders, Adam Lane Smith earns my implicit trust as a reader. He isn't here to waste my time. He's here to deliver on the promise he made when he announced this project months ago: Knights in power armor battling demons across an atomic wasteland. 

And deliver he damned well does.

In Blackbriar, Gideon stops at the church to deliver the demon's severed head, and to give his report to the village priest, Father Harris. The priest then takes Gideon's confession, and just as the knight is preparing to leave the church, a blinding light and a booming voice from the heavens stops him in his tracks.

The radiant being has eyes of molten silver, and wings like stained glass windows, depicting the Lord Jesus Christ. 

Far from being overawed, though, Gideon is unimpressed. The being is Azaria, an angel who's been standing by his side through his many battles, and who has appeared and spoken to him dozens of times in the past.

After his initial, dramatic entrance, Azaria takes a more human aspect, and the angel and the knight settle onto one of the pews to talk like old friends. 

Azaria wants to know why Gideon appears so sullen and upset. The battle against the demon was far from the worst he'd faced. Gideon admits that he's frustrated at how long it took to track the monster. Months of battling through underlings, slaying cultists, and hunting for clues, when Azaria simply could have revealed the demon's location to him.

The angel reassures him that there was a purpose to the seemingly aimless running around. Many evils were removed from the world as he fought his way to the demon, including a powerful necromancer.

But the angel promises that his next task will be simpler, and more straightforward. All he must do is go to the tavern, and the location of the next target will reveal itself.

Gideon, still frustrated, asks if Azaria will just tell him directly. The angel's response isn't exactly what he wants to hear.