Interview | Voiceless

Where did I get the idea for Voiceless?

How many hours a day do I write?

Do I prefer tea or coffee?

These answers — and more! — in an interview with book blogger Sritha. Just follow the link below.


Source: Bookish Interview with E G Wilson ~ Voiceless


Addiction: The Follow-Up


Three years ago I wrote a letter to my younger self. You can find it here.

Honestly? I thought I was good. I thought I’d beaten the three-year-old porn addiction.

Life ain’t that simple. And it’s not about me. hadn’t beaten anything.

I went back to the porn, and then fought it for a bit, and then went back to it again. And lived there for another three years.

Something happened on Friday. And I can’t explain it.

At that point I’d been more-or-less addicted to pornography for six years solid. Mostly ‘more’. The whole last year was basically a write-off. I hardly went two consecutive days without looking at stuff.

Until Friday.

Something changed. I can hardly put it into words. The closest I can come to explaining it is that something inside me clicked. Or maybe it un-clicked. The arousal’s still there, more than ever in some ways, but the compulsion to act on it has just… gone.

It’s like someone’s reached into my head and hit a switch.

It wasn’t me. It was nothing to do with me. I wasn’t even trying to fight it. I looked at stuff in the morning. But in the afternoon there was just… nothing.

My sex drive hasn’t magically turned off. I could still act on it. Objectively.

But I don’t want to.

(I can’t believe I’m writing this.)

I don’t want to.

And it’s not even an “I know I shouldn’t, but go on, it doesn’t hurt anyone” don’t-want-to. It’s a flat “no.” It’s a “not even, mate.” There’s no need, no want, no desire to act on it.

I can’t explain it. It’s a God thing. It must be. There’s no other explanation.

And it’s a bit weird, honestly.

Because for six years I’ve been fighting a storm. Even when I wasn’t being bowled over by the wind, the most I could ever do was hunker down and turn my back to the rain and maybe not lose too much ground.

And now?

For the first time in six years, there is no storm.

No wind. No rain. No battle.

Is this what peace is like?

Is this…

(I’m crying as I write this.)

Is this what freedom is like?

On Editing: Curiosity and Impatience

I admit it. I’m impatient. Impatient to progress, impatient to be finished, impatient to be not just competent but excellent at any given thing.

I’m also curious, which is exceedingly helpful when writing first drafts. I’ll hit that dreaded 40% slow zone and then the plot will turn a corner and we’ll be off again while I fire questions like arrows: where are we going, who are we going with, why now, why them, why why why.

Side note: I think both of those qualities are perhaps why I didn’t last as long in some jobs as I otherwise might have. When you’re just starting out, it’s hard be content with the angle of whatever learning curve you happen to be on. Too fast, too slow, it’ll always be not quite right. And, too: when you’re a little cog, you get funny looks if you question the machine.

Anyway. I’ve started in on developmental edits for Voiceless and… yes. There’s some curiosity there. Mostly impatience.

What’d the editor say?

She said it needs some work.

But it’s already a good story! 

It is, but it can be better.

I want it to be better now!

You have to put the work in, kid.

It’s too much work, it’ll take too long! 

Better get your head down and get cracking, then.

But I want it NOW! 


Have a thirst for excellence, sure. Ambition? Why not. Strive to be the best at whatever you do. But understand (and I’m talking to myself here as much as to you, dear reader) that it means putting the hours in. I refuse to be a cheapskate. On the spectrum of fast/good, this book will be very good. It will be mindbogglingly fantastic. It has to be. I won’t accept anything less, not from my debut novel. Not from any of my books, God willing.

Which isn’t to say that I’m about to spend twelve months on this round of edits. The thing about the fast/good line? Is that you can bend it into a circle. Or a Möbius strip, maybe. You can be both fast and good. I always think I know how hard I can push myself on a project; and each project, I’m surprised to find that I can push myself that little bit more. More speed. More quality. Go to my day job. Come back. More speed. More quality. More speed. More quality.

Curiosity makes a good springboard. What did the editor say needs to happen to make this good? Impatience can give you some drive. I want this to be good, and I want it yesterday. But you’ve got to know what you’re reaching for. You’ve got to have an end goal. This book will be good. It will be great. It will be such a shining example of a brilliant book that other books will be blinded by it.

At the same time, I know that good books have tanked before. And bad books have, inexplicably, soared. So I try not to get my hopes up too high. You know what? All that stuff – whatever happens after it’s released to the wild public – that’s out of my control. But I can control what happens to it before then.

I can control the speed of my edits. I can control the quality of the writing.

And they’re both going to sing.

12-36 Film

This has been in the works for a while now, but it’s finally happening! Local company Rolling Ridges Productions are making a movie of my short story 12-36 (which was in At The Edge, a NZ/AUS SFFH anthology which came out earlier this year) — but they need your help. Follow the link to see the intro video and pledge to receive your own copy of the short film when it comes out!

September 26, 2016

Two things happened today.


I finished my personal challenge of writing 20,000 (good quality) words in four days. It hasn’t quite made up for the fact that my WIP was stalled for weeks before that. But it’s satisfying. I feel accomplished. Like I’ve proven something to myself. Not sure what, mind you, but… something. It was a good use of a public holiday, I think.


Today marks six months exactly since I submitted Voiceless to Atthis Arts. Six months. It’s amazing how much has happened since then.

We’ve done the initial submission thing, the partial sample thing, the full manuscript thing, the “would you like to move forward with this?” thing. We’ve done the Skype call, the contract negotiations and contract signings. We’ve done some pretty major interim edits. We spent a month hashing out the details of the crowdfunding campaign, and then another month running it. We hit our minimum funding goal – and exceeded it.

It’s a bit overwhelming sometimes, thinking about where I was this time last year and how much of a difference twelve months has made. Heck, it hasn’t even been a year since I started writing Voiceless – the first draft. Since November 1st 2015, I’ve written more than 300,000 words in first drafts. I’ve had three different jobs; I’ve still got two of them. I’ve moved out of home and into a flat that actually works.

And I seem to have picked up a Muse, for whatever that’s worth. She’s a cat. Well okay, strictly speaking she’s my flatmate’s cat. She seems to like me. I’m not saying she’s instant inspiration. She’s not. Instant inspiration doesn’t write books; hard work does.

But she’s good company.


The Kickstarter is closed, and we are officially funded for the first book in the Voiceless Duology! Thank you to all 110 backers, and to everyone else who supported in various ways!

Final backer numbers:
United States 56
New Zealand 31
Germany 5
Australia 4
United Kingdom 4
Sweden 2
Belgium 1
Brazil 1
Canada 1
Malaysia 1