May 2016 – Warren’s Guide

The Rebel Review

My first concerted effort at producing my own written works, was a home-made magazine called the ‘Rebel Review’. Why the ‘Rebel Review’? Well, since childhood I have been a Star Wars fan. How much of a fan depends entirely on your perception of such things. Some people would consider me an over-the-top fan with a large collection of Star Wars books (from art-of to fiction), a fair sized collection of the original toys from childhood (ebay tempts, but hasn’t won yet!), numerous collectible items, various copies of the movies from different releases over the years, the list goes on. Then again, some might consider me a mid-level enthusiast, since my interest spreads to all science fiction, fantasy and beyond.

Regardless, I was enough of a Star Wars fan in my teens that when I decided to make my own magazine, I chose to make it predominantly Star Wars related, with short stories and various movie and book reviews. I’m not sure, but I think one of my sisters suggested the title, in honour of the Rebel Alliance (The good guys, for those of you who have lived in an isolation chamber).

There were, of course, lots of other reasons behind it, other than Star Wars. It was an endeavour that combined many of my favourite things.

Star Wars and Science Fiction? Check
Movies? Check
Books? Check
Artwork? Check
Story (and other) writing? Check
Excuse to use my Dad’s computer and photocopier? Check

My father produced the local parish magazine on a monthly basis, using the combination of a rental-purchase photocopier and his new Amstrad PCW8256 computer with 9-pin dot-matrix printer. It was my first true exposure to computers, outside of a friend’s ZX Spectrum and the limited BBC micros at school. To this day, there’s still something strangely hypnotic and unusual about the PCW. The guts of the machine were inside the same casing as the monitor, which itself was green-screen only. I could easily wax lyrical about the hours spent programming games in BASIC from listings in the magazine, creating primitive graphics in LOGO, the unusual 3” disks, or playing Fairlight and Tomahawk into the early hours, only to come away with square eyes and a strange sense of detachment from reality… but those memories are for another time. For now, its miracle was the ability to write and save files using the LocoScript word processor, and print them.

So using word processing software that would be considered less-than-primitive now, I learnt to type and write on a computer. I was fascinated with what my dad was able to do on that machine, and I wanted to produce something of my own.

The first issue was put together in 1990, after the release of ‘Gremlins 2’. I would’ve been about fourteen. I continued producing them until the 7th and final issue was released in 1993. It had huge print runs, of perhaps 10, maybe even 20 copies, which were sold to friends and relatives with plenty of encouragement and praise from my mother. I wrote short stories, created word-searches, quizzes and games, wrote film and book reviews, and gave my thoughts on the latest movie news. I often drew pictures for the covers and the stories. By the final few issues I was even using an art package and mouse on my Dad’s PCW, to produce primitive black and white computer graphics.

It was all enormous fun, most of which was had in piecing together the various items for photocopying. For example, the first issue sported an image of Gizmo from ‘Gremlins 2’ on the front cover along with the magazine title and a couple of small accompanying images (See the start of the article). How did I produce that? I drew a large portrait of Gizmo in pencil, around which I glued two photocopied images from my favourite movie magazine (the recently re-born ‘Starburst’). On a second piece of paper, I printed the title and a couple of other bits of text. I would then photocopy the title page, then run the same used pieces of paper through the copier again, this time photocopying the Gizmo images. Voilà! A title page combing the two.

Gradually my expertise grew. Numerous bits of Blu-Tack or Pritt Stick glue kept images, titles and lines of text on pieces of A4 paper, which were then copied to produce inventively laid out pages. Finally, they were all stapled together to create multiple copies of each issue. The sense of accomplishment at picking up and flicking through a ‘magazine’ created by myself was fantastic. Sure, looking back on them now it’s easy to see them as naïve and primitive, but it’s all part of the knowledge and experience that has taken me to where I am today (Or at least given me some fun childhood memories).

In retrospect, it also provided an unusual form of bonding between my father and I. It was at once a solitary process, either typing away or gluing things to pieces of paper, whilst also being something we could share. I was using all of my Dad’s equipment, from the PCW and photocopier, to his stapler and paper guillotine (which is still going strong in a certain cake shop!). We enjoyed our mutual fascination and enjoyment at using the computer, and he was able to help me when I needed it. On those occasions that I decided to create an issue, my life was suddenly consumed, usually for at least a week or so. I was ever-present in my Dad’s study, taking up space and no doubt getting in the way. When I think back, he must have been incredibly patient!

What did I learn? Plenty, no doubt, but it’s the memories I cherish the most. Childhood enthusiasm and dreams that came to life and became miraculously real, with the involvement of family and friends.

In a way that even photos cannot achieve, I can pick up one of those old issues with their now-yellowing pages, and a host of memories and emotions come flooding back. It conjures up those times when I felt accomplishment (simple and minor as it was) combined with naïve optimism, and it was all shared with loved ones and friends to create something that never fails to bring a smile, even to this day.

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Writing My First Short Story

Small Blue Typewriter — I think the typewriter was something like this…

Memories can be triggered by any number of things, but in thinking about the origins of Christopher Tyson, I began remembering some of the first stories I ever wrote. Why am I telling you this? So that I don’t forget! This is as much for me, as it is for you, reader. When I’m forty five (maybe fifty) and senile, re-reading this might make me smile and say “Ooh, I remember that!”

I’m sure there were stories I wrote in school, but my first memory of writing involves a short science fiction story called “Richerd and the Alien Prince” (Obviously the character’s name was ‘Richard’, but my typing or spelling, most likely both, left something to be desired). If my maths is correct, the year was probably 1985. I was about nine, my father was still alive, and we had been in the UK for perhaps less than a year since returning from the Bahamas (his job, not holiday). Being a Church of England Priest, my father had various tasks that required the use of a typewriter, one of which was the church magazine.

I have little doubt that his creation of these monthly releases was an influence on me. Most likely at its height when I published the ‘Rebel Review’, but I shall go into that on another occasion. At this point, however, what matters was my access to a typewriter, combined with my love of science fiction and adventure.

Dad (referring to him as ‘my father’ is far too formal) had been loaned an old, blue typewriter upon starting his new position (edit – I have it on good authority from my sister, that it was grey). He was ever the gadget fan, a habit and addiction which I have most certainly inherited (genetically or by influence), but in finding aforementioned typewriter functional at best, he soon purchased a wonderful new electric typewriter (this was just before the days of word-processing computers, which themselves will garner a few paragraphs in a later post). The new typewriter was quite the marvel of modern technology, with gleaming white plastic sides, at least one or two glowing LEDs, and magical buttons that seemingly required little-to-no pressure before a letter was suddenly printed on the page with all the speed and power of a nail-gun on full power. However, I digress. Apart from its untouchable wonder, this typewriter was important because it freed up its small blue relative, until such time as it was eventually returned to its original owner.

I metaphorically (perhaps even literally) rubbed my hands together in glee. Here was my chance! And so was spawned ‘Richerd and the Alien Prince’. My ability to think up original character names must have been somewhat lacking (And may still be, depending on the opinion of my readers), because Richard was the name of my best friend of the time.

Richard is a local guy living a quiet and seemingly solitary life, who then witnesses the crashing arrival of something in the local woods. Of course he investigates, only to discover it contains a refugee alien. Somewhat pathetically (considering the alien prince looks human), Richard faints from shock twice in a row. What can I say, I was convinced that meeting an alien for the first time was so shocking, that one’s brain ceases to function momentarily, even when they look no different than someone you would pass in the street (yes, this foolish story element embarrasses and bugs me even to this day). Anyway, despite having different languages, they make swift friends.

All is not well, however. The enemies of the alien prince are hunting him in order to stop his ascension to the throne and removal of their power. A car chase ensues and soon our heroes (rather easily) steal a jet from the local RAF base, and subsequently manage to shoot down the dastardly enemy spaceship, saving the day. That isn’t quite the end, though. In an edge-of-your-seat denouement, our heroes go back to Richard’s house to celebrate by having a meal of roast chicken and chips (probably with Worcester sauce). I’m not kidding. It was my favourite meal as a child, so that’s what my heroes ate to celebrate. If you don’t like it, tough.

I sat on the floor with the little typewriter, that in complete opposition to my Dad’s electric counterpart, required fingers to be used like mini-hammers to ensure the letters were typed on the page with legible pressure. No doubt many hours later, a two-page short story was completed with plenty of errors, lots of words stricken through, and unusual grammar that will probably puzzle alien scientists in a post-apocalyptic world, when it is the only surviving manuscript they discover.

The main point is that I started writing. Adventures, stories, ideas and characters have always been bubbling over in the back of my mind, whether I have taken the effort to write them down, or they occurred to action figures in numerous miniature adventures.

Of all the things that story achieved, one shall never be forgotten. The immortal words of an alien language that meant something along the lines of: “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you’re saying.” Words that shall long be remembered in my family…

“Baggy La Nifnook.”

The Christopher Tyson Adventures – Spaceship Corridor

(Don’t know what the Christopher Tyson Adventures are? Click here before continuing, if you want to know more…)

The heroes’ spaceship, the Hypatia, is an aged derelict. Here’s a glimpse of what it looks like inside, before they get it refurbished at the Stelguls shipyards on Khani Prime (What do you mean you don’t know of that place or planet? You’ll just have to read the book when it comes out!).

For those interested, below you can see the initial design sketches, along with some more detailed design for the door, ceiling and floor elements.

The designs were initially done with pro-marker and fine liner pens. Then, using the rough concept art as a guide, the painting was completed digitally.