Kell's Legend (44 page)
Who plays you in the movie?
Probably Vin Diesel. He certainly has more acting talent than me, but I feel that’s probably down to my incredible and awful wooden performance potential.
And what’s the pivotal scene?
Probably the bit when Vin pulls out the chainsaw to kill the bad guys/ save the world/ save his poisoned girlfriend, before riding off into a toxic LA sunset on an open-pipe Harley.
We’re buying…what’re you drinking?
Absolutely fucking everything.
Favourite possession?
My BMW GS1200 motorbike. I have something of a Ewan McGregor/Charlie Boorman
Long Way Round
obsession. Ask my wife.
Last dream of note?
It was actually, and honestly, a dream that I’m going to turn into a novel. A kind of Urban Fantasy for the Shotgun Generation.
Favourite item of clothing?
My clogged para-boots. It has been oft claimed that I am far from the pinnacle of fashion, what with my knife-cut army combats and faded South Park t-shirts, but at least my smart designer shirts are better than those of a certain other editor I worked with in the past, who shopped for his clothes in Asda. Haha.
Would you write full-time if you could?
I do, and whilst sometimes it’s totally great, sometimes I get cabin-fever and start to pull out hair, gnash teeth and drag my werewolf claws through the plaster. Then I know it’s time for some human interaction.
Do you plan in detail or set off hopefully?
I plan in detail, then see where it takes me. If it shifts, I change the plan. I hate writing blind.
What’s the view from your writing window?
My house has “open aspects to rear”, as they say, so it’s mainly fields and a few trees and hedgerows. There are foxes, rabbits and bats at dusk. It is very
euphoric and intoxicating, especially (cough) after a few whiskies.
Where would you like to be right now?
New York City, driving a Ferrari. NYC is my favourite place on Earth. There’s this scurrilous rumour about how I stayed at the Waldorf Astoria wearing British army combats and a hoodie amidst people in tuxedoes, and I have to hang my head in shame and say it was totally true.
When & where were you happiest?
At the birth of my two boys. Without question, the two most intense, frightening and wonderful moments of my life. Obviously my wife was there as well, but she was high on pethadine, the lightweight. Ha ha.
Complete this sentence: Rewriting is…
Superb fun, a necessity, and an integral part of the writing process.
Complete this sentence: I owe it all to…
Myself. I am my own hardest task master, and without my own focus and motivation over so many years when the going was tough, I never would have achieved. So. Pat on the back, Remic. Thanks, mate. Here, have a whisky. Thanks again, buddy.
What advice would you give to an aspiring writer?
Be completely anal about every sentence you write, make sure you get it right, work harder than hard and
be as persistent as a terrier on a firm leg. Stephen King gives excellent advice in his
On Writing,
and what I like about King’s book is that it’s totally down to earth, realistic, and lacking in bullshit. The best piece of advice good old Kingy gives is “omit needless words”, so I shall say the same. Omit needless words. Trim the trash. Cut the crap. Make your prose sparkle! And never, ever give up!!
What are you going to do right now when you’ve finished this ordeal?
Take the dog for a walk up to Peel Tower. She is a young Border Collie, mad with energy, and if I don’t at least try and burn the bitch out, she’ll be jiggling and bouncing all bloody day long—and thus stopping me from writing.
And believe me, the second Clockwork Vampire Chronicles book is going so well! It will blow you away.
The mighty Kell stood proud upon sandy shores, He’d willingly cast out a palace of bores, He pondered on glory of merciless days, As lounged by his feet decadent poets sang praise, But now his axe of old lay down by his side, A weapon of terror and worthy genocide, As the sea sweet her whisper carried o’er to him, Her voice a bright loving invitation to swim, Eternal bed, quoth she, I bring long soothing sleep, Come to me my darling, now please don’t you weep;
Our hero of old, he felt not the dread, Of the battles gone by, of the children now dead, He dreamt of the slaughter at Valantrium Moor, A thousand dead foes, there could not be a cure Of low evil ways and bright terrible deeds, Of men turned bad, he’d harvest the weeds, His mighty axe hummed, Ilanna by name, Twin sharp blades of steel, without any shame For the deeds she did do, the men she did slay,
Every living bright-eyed creature was legitimate prey;
Kell waded through life on a river of blood, His axe in his hands, dreams misunderstood, In Moonlake and Skulkra he fought with the best This hero of old, this hero obsessed, This hero turned champion of King Searlan Defiant and worthy a merciless man, Through Jangir and Black Pike Kell slaughtered the foe,
Each battle was empty, each moment gone slow, And with each bloody murder Kell felt more the pain,
Reversal and angst brought home his heart bane.
‘Rarely sung final verse:’
And Kell now stood with axe in hand, The sea raged before him time torn into strands, He pondered his legend and screamed at the stars, Death open beneath him to heal all the scars Of the hatred he’d felt, and the murders he’d done And the people he’d killed all the pleasure and life He’d destroyed.
Kell stared melancholy into great rolling waves of a Dark Green World,
And knew he could blame no other but himself for
The long Days of Blood, the long Days of Shame, The worst times flowing through evil years of pain,
And the Legend dispersed and the honour was gone
And all savagery fucked in a world ripped undone And the answer was clear as the stars in the sky All the bright stars the white stars the time was to die,
Kell took up Ilanna and bade the world farewell, The demons tore through him as he ended the spell And closed his eyes.
Andy Remic is a British writer with a love of ancient warfare, mountain climbing and sword fighting. Once a member of The Army of Iron, he has since retired from a savage world of blood-oil magick and gnashing vachine, and works as an underworld smuggler of rare Dog Gemdog gems in the seedy districts of Falanor.
Kell’s Legend
is his sixth novel, and he’s now hard at work on volume II.
Find out more at
www.andyremic.com
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No more heroes
Published 2009
1
Copyright © Andy Remic 2009
Andy Remic asserts the moral right to be
identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record for this book is available
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ISBN-13: 978 0 00 732415 6
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