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A writing weblog designed to keep myself honest and to monitor my progress.
For January
Start rewrite of Exile's Daughter Monthly word count: 1739 Last month: N/A In Progress "The Brigand" Untitled Appalachian story Editing The Exile's Daughter "Midsummer" Upcoming False Light Untitled Harper novel Sequel to Exile's Daughter Mainstream 'decade' novel In Circulation "Sic Transit Gloria" (a.k.a. "One Song Before I Go") "An Eye for an Eye" Pending Publication Nothing Published "Rhythm of the Tides" "At the Ocean's Edge" Shelved The Host "All the Lonely People" Girls Who Wear Glasses* The Sword in the Mound* "Heaven's Orphans"* * - unfinished draft In the Trunk "The Girl Behind the Counter" "Computer Dating" "The Weird Sisters" Dream Pod 9 Publications "Starlight, Starbright" Harvest of Thorns Revanche Adrift on the River of Dream Liberation Web journal Till Human Voices Wake Us Other links Write Club Shakespeare's Minions Web Rats Blog Archives Other writers I read Julie Mer Elizabeth Bear  |
Wednesday, February 04, 2004
La Vie Boheme has officially moved to http://writing.selkie.net. Please update your bookmarks and such. :) 
Monday, January 19, 2004
Too many irons, not enough fire
I'm beginning to think I have too many things going on right now. I wind up each morning, settling down to work and not knowing what to work on. Of course, I think when it really comes down to it, what I'm doing is avoiding working on a rewrite that has me overwhelmed and feeling a little stalled. One would think, that being conscious of that, I'd be able to get around the block. One would think that, but one would be wrong. Grar.
Thursday, January 15, 2004
After a lot of consideration, I trunked "The Weird Sisters". I hate doing that, especially when it's a story I really like and am proud of, but there was just too much similarity between it and the opening of Pratchett's Wyrd Sisters for me to be comfortable about submitting it. It bugs me a little that I only have two stories out circulating at the moment, but I just don't think in terms of short stories so much. Conventional wisdom says that short stories are the only way to get your foot in the door, but are they really? Is there no other path? Looks like I may find out, unless my unconscious spits a few more ideas my way. Research for False Light is going swimmingly. My notebook and notecards are filling up with ideas, and the picture is starting to form in my head. I'm working by instinct a lot lately, instead of by a sense of obligation. There's a little voice in the back of my head that tells me I should be focusing a lot more on rewriting Exile's Daughter, but for now I'm trusting wherever my brain wants to focus. This makes me feel a little bit undisciplined and guilty, but I'm trying to ignore that. I'm not sure which approach is better: to rein my mind in and try to make it follow a specific track, or let it roam where it wants, as long as something is getting accomplished. I dunno, but for now, I'm letting it roam.
Saturday, January 10, 2004
Fastest. Rejection. Ever.
I got a six-hour rejection from the story I sent out yesterday morning, essentially informing me that I may have unintentionally plagiarized from a very well known humorous fantasy author (the exact wording was that my story was "very similar in tone and content" to the opening of a book). How embarrassing! I'm resisting the urge to email the editor back and make sure she understands that I never read said author, so I couldn't possibly have done such a thing on purpose. :P In other news, I'm doing pretty well with my "five days a week" resolution so far.
Friday, January 09, 2004
Get me, I'm working here!
Another story out the door this morning, leaving me with just "Midsummer", always "Midsummer". This story is starting to feel like an albatross around my neck. I went to the library yesterday and checked out several books about the end of the world--most specifically, comets and their potential to destroy the world. Real research for a book. I'm frightened by this concept. However, once I started thinking about the story again, it's like floodgates opened. Ideas and characters are tumbling over one another in their haste to make themselves known to me. It's a little weird, but fun. False Light (False Dawn, maybe?) is looking like it's going to be my next big project.
Thursday, January 08, 2004
Two down...
I managed to get two stories back out into circulation: "Sic Transit Gloria" and "An Eye for an Eye"--the two I feel are my strongest right now. Two more, and I'll have met one goal for this month. Go me! I feel the tickle of another novel at the back of my brain. It's not that I know specifically what I want to write, I just know that I'm starting to crave the process of writing something really big. Part of me insists that I should finish the Exile's Daughter rewrite first. We'll see. It might be time to dig out my notes for False Light again--the world and story have been occurring to me periodically at random moments. I think it might be planning an ambush.
Monday, January 05, 2004
2003 in review, goals for 2004
In 2003 I submitted six different stories a total of 23 times, and received a total of 23 rejections. On the whole, however, the rejections have gotten a little more encouraging, so that's a good thing. I wrote a novel, finished four short stories (2 from scratch, 2 finishes from 2002 starts), and rewrote the hell out of a lot of things. My word count total for the year was 127,567--not too shabby when you consider that I didn't write word one in March, April, or May. Now... looking ahead to 2004: I want to finish the unfinished short story I'm working on currently ("The Brigand"), and write three new stories from scratch. I want to start sending query letters to agents about The Exile's Daughter, which will mean finishing the rewrite. I want to write another novel, and do something with The Host, whether it's rewrite from square one or steal bits for a short story. I want to do something writing-related five days a week, whether it's actual writing or market research or editing, or... something. And damn it, I know this one's partly out of my control, but I want to get published again this year.
Monday, December 15, 2003
Decisions, decisions...
It's not that I'm not working. It's that there's really no way to write about how I'm working. I feel like The Exile's Daughter is a cadaver I'm dissecting, bit by bit, to try and find out the cause of death. The only trick is, once I find all the causes, then I have to go back and heal the causes, put the body back together, and resuscitate it. I keep working with the assumption that once I've written a few more novels, the editing process won't be quite so involved--but I could be wrong. One thing I DO want to do differently next time, however, is to actually FOCUS on worldbuilding more before writing so much of the draft. Now I'm faced with a handful of arbitrary decisions within the text and a very very very rough sketch of a world, and I need to fill in the blanks in such a way so that the handful of decisions still fit. The hardest part is finally making the hard and firm "yes this is the way the world is" decisions that I put off the first time around. I'm kind of appalled at myself that I managed to write an entire novel about faeries without much of an idea of how they interact with the human world as a whole.
Wednesday, December 10, 2003
Good god
A month without an update! Jeez. Yeah, I officially spent a lot of time slacking last month. I found myself getting so discouraged by the short story submission process that I gave myself permission to take a break, so I am. Per my original intentions, I did start the editing process with The Exile's Daughter this month. It's going well. I'm learning a lot, and I'm analyzing the hell out of what I spent four months writing. The good news is, I like it, and the flaws are repairable. The bad news is, the flaws are repairable, which means I have some work ahead of me. ;) Unless inspiration comes and hits me between the eyes with a hammer, I'm thinking short stories are on hold this month, as well as any other new projects.
Monday, November 10, 2003
Un-Derailed
Slowly but surely trying to get back into the groove I had while writing The Exile's Daughter. Which means work from 9-12, then a break, then possibly more work in the afternoon. It's slow going, as I'm once again proving highly talented at finding things to do that look like work but really aren't. But, I got about another 700 words on "The Brigand", my swashbuckly short story, and I think I finally made it to the meat of the story. I can already tell how very flaw-ridden it is, but I just want to get the story OUT. Can polish later. This is my mantra. Write now, fix later.
Thursday, November 06, 2003
NaNoNotSoMuch
NaNoWriMo is officially over for me this year. The novel wasn't working, the process of writing at breakneck speed wasn't working, in short, I wasn't working. I learned so many valuable lessons from NaNo 2001, but I think I'm done with the concept now. I've learned that I can write a novel without that outside goading, and in fact, it turns out a lot better that way. Instead, I'm focusing on a couple of short stories, one of which may wind up as a larger work (i.e., the story formerly known as "Alabaster Stones"). I forgot for a little while how to write for fun, with no goal in mind other than to enjoy writing and tell a story. So that's what I'm doing now. Part of my brain insists that I've failed somehow, but with one novel already written this year, it's pretty easy to shut that part of my brain up.
Friday, October 31, 2003
At the starting gate...
NaNoWriMo starts in a little over two hours. I'm planning on staying up and making at least a token start to the novel. I'm seriously going by the seat of my pants on this one. I'm hoping after writing a few thousand words I might be able to come up with an outline. We'll see. I don't want a repeat of The Host where I felt lost in my own novel. I'm sure I'll post after I've done some writing tonight.
Sunday, October 26, 2003
I know, I know, things were quiet last week. I spent a good bit of time poking at "Alabaster Stones"--which is probably not going to be the title of that particular story, as it's taking a left turn away from what I thought it was going to be. It's also threatening to turn itself into a novel. Yeah, another one. However, I think I can get a short story out of it and put the novel idea for it on the back burner. It's a novel I'm not old enough or experienced enough to write yet, anyway. Got a few more rejections over the past week, including two in one day, and a one-day rejection from NFG (damn, they're fast). "Midsummer" came remarkably close to being published. The rewrite was done at the editor's request, but it still wasn't quite what they wanted. Also, I was extremely encouraged by the last rejection on "An Eye for an Eye", which was actually handwritten and basically said they didn't have room for it right now. Gotta keep telling myself that. I'm making progress. The rejections ARE starting to get more encouraging, starting to get something beyond just a form. NaNoWriMo starts on Saturday. Do I have an outline yet? Well of course not. I may shelve the short story until December and spend this week planning Girls Who Wear Glasses. We'll see. I'm definitely feeling ready to dive back into a novel. This can only be a good sign.
Friday, October 17, 2003
FINALLY
I did a rewrite of "Midsummer" that finally, finally makes me happy. I've loved this story ever since I finished it, but it was always wrong. I think I finally got it right. We'll see. Made some changes on the sidebar, moved some things around. I'm feeling raring to go now.
Thursday, October 16, 2003
Progress!
Well, my NaNoWriMo novel has a working title and some character names now. The title is taken from poetry, of course! Girls Who Wear Glasses, a la Dorothy Parker's famous observation that "Men seldom make passes / At girls who wear glasses." My character names I'm keeping to myself for now, because those are even more subject to change than the title at this point.
Wednesday, October 15, 2003
Feeling of accomplishment
I printed out the first draft of The Exile's Daughter today. Then spent an hour punching holes so that it'd fit into a three-ring binder. It's a lovely, enormous thing to see. Heavy, weighted with more than just the mass of 338 sheets of paper plus a binder. It's holding a lot of hope, too. I held up and showed my mom and said, "Well, here's my summer." And part of the fall. She's got it now; she wanted to read it before I start the editing process December 1st. I'm just glad to have it printed. I felt like everything I'd done finally was tangible. Of course, I haven't written a word since Sunday. That's going to change tomorrow. I have a story percolating, then there's the outline for my NaNoWriMo novel, which needs a title and characters and all sorts of goodness. Lots to do before November 1st.
Sunday, October 12, 2003
The 15th? The 15th did I say? HA!
After blasting out the end of Chapter 17 this morning, I went on to write all of Chapter 18 in a long marathon day of writing. 4500 words later, the first draft of The Exile's Daughter is FINISHED! I love the way the ends came together and tied themselves up at the end. I love the way it ends. I think for once I've managed to write something that doesn't have a totally wimpy and weak ending. I think I may have something here. Tomorrow, I am SO taking tomorrow off. And to think it all started with me just wanting to write a combat scene. That was June 6th. By July 7th, I knew I had a novel. And today, October 12th, that novel is complete. I don't think anything feels as sweet as that.
Saturday, October 11, 2003
*whimper*
One more scene to go in Chapter 17. Then Chapter 18. Then I get to write that have come to be the two sweetest words in the English language as far as I'm concerned: "The End". Still on track to finish by the 15th.
Wednesday, October 08, 2003
90K!
Golly, it's just one milestone after another these days. The next big milestone you're going to hear about (aside from hitting the last chapter, that's not a huge milestone) will be when I finish! I managed to write at another breakneck pace this morning, partly because I wanted to reach 90,000 today (damn that odometer rolling) and partly because I doubt I'll be doing much writing this afternoon. So excited. So very excited. One interesting note, a part of the final outcome keeps shifting back and forth in my head. I can see two ways to go, and I'm not sure which one will work the best. Of course, if I go with the new idea that occurred to me last night, I'll have all sorts of rope with which to hang my characters for the sequel. That could be fun. Yes, fun. Writing is all sorts of fun again. Dare I say it? I think I'm starting to coast. (She says, jinxing herself horribly.)
Tuesday, October 07, 2003
Whew
I can't tell if I'm galloping out of control or just maintaining a steady run. In either case, Chapter 16 is finished--didn't hurt that it was considerably shorter than the average chapter. Two more to go. At this rate, I might well finish the first draft this week, leaving me three weeks to NaNoWriMo, three weeks to rest, recuperate, and outline the next novel.
Momentum
Wrote a scene and a half this morning, and stopped only because I didn't want to miss "The West Wing" again. I'm already itching to get back to it after lunch. This can only be a good sign. The retreat really got me fired up again for finishing this. I had been a little burnt out, I think. "Midsummer" came back again, and I sent it out again. Yay for me. It's getting close to retirement, I think, but I'll try a few more places.
Sunday, October 05, 2003
Home again, home again
I needed this weekend. It really couldn't have come at a better time, from a writing standpoint and from a personal standpoint. I had a marvelous time, and I wrote nearly 6,000 words. I feel ready to wrap this thing up. Due to some restructuring (again--for the last time, maybe?), I once again have 18 chapters. I finished up Chapter 15 this weekend, leaving me with three to go, again. I feel capable though. My goal is to have this finished by the 15th. I think it's a reachable goal. Also planning to sign up for NaNoWriMo--again. I have a new novel idea for it, a departure from all the upcoming works I've got listed. Once I've got a working title, I'll be sure to post all about it. This one's another mainstream idea--nay, even chick-lit. It should be interesting to write. Something light and fluffy after all the serious epic stuff going on in Exile.
Thursday, October 02, 2003
80K and Writer's Retreat
God. It took me over two weeks to get the last 10,000 words of manuscript out. If I keep slowing down like this, I'll never finish. :P I'm really hoping to be over this rough patch soon. Like, before I finish the novel even. Still, 80,000 words. Whoa. That's pretty cool. I had a few moments of "I hate everything about this stupid novel" this morning, but they seem to have passed with little scarring. That said, I'm so ready to be gone for the weekend, off to write and laugh and eat and write and maybe sleep a little, all on the shores of a lovely lake in a lovely little house. I'm taking a camera, Julie's taking down the quotes--prepare for lots of incriminating evidence. I'm sure I'll post all about it Sunday or Monday.
Wednesday, October 01, 2003
I hate October
Moderately disappointing day today. The weather is really beating down my motivation. All I want to do is stay curled under blankets and watch TV or read. Fortunately, this weekend is the Minions writer's retreat, and I will be forced (through gentle and mocking peer pressure) to write my ass off. I'm also thinking I can get a little more done tonight after the "Angel" season premiere (yay, Spike!). In not-so-disappointing news, I sent off "One Song Before I Go" to the Zoetrope All-Story Short Fiction Contest. Winners announced December 1st. Keep your fingers crossed.
Tuesday, September 30, 2003
Finally finished Chapter 14 of The Exile's Daughter, hereafter known as The Chapter That Kicked Lisa's Ass. Chapters 15, 16, and 17 left to go. I'm looking at another 50-60 pages, if I hold true to form, 15,000-18,000 words or so. That'll put my final word count around 95,000. God help me, I'm already seeing the flaws that need to be fixed. I have a feeling editing and rewriting is going to be a painful, arduous process--but I am NOT THINKING ABOUT THAT NOW. If I start freaking about rewrites now, I'll never finish the first draft.
Friday, September 26, 2003
Closer still...
So I revamped the outline for the final chapters of The Exile's Daughter, and cut one. Now I have roughly three full chapters left to write, and two scenes in this current chapter. The end is so close I'm afraid I'm going to start galloping, which is my customary reaction to seeing the end of a piece. Please, no galloping. I think the outline will help that tendency a lot. We'll see.
Thursday, September 25, 2003
It's 10 am...
I haven't started work on Exile yet this morning, but I did get two stories back out into submission, "Midsummer" (yes, you read that right) and "The Weird Sisters, 2003". Did a lot of soul searching, helped along by the Minions last night, and shelved "Girl Behind the Counter" for now. I'm starting to accept that some things I've written, no matter how well-written, or how much I enjoyed writing them, just either aren't pro-quality or aren't publishable--and that's perfectly fine. I need to stop worrying about how many stories I have in circulation, and just make sure I have the good ones out there. That said, why is "Midsummer" back out? Because I love it, for one thing. I'm trying one more 'respected' market, and if that falls through, then I'm going to go to non-paying markets. Because I want someone to read it, to enjoy it. I've done as much damage to it as I can. Rewriting isn't going to improve it at this point. I have learned so much over the past two years. I think my writing has improved in leaps and bounds. The stories I've got going around now, with the exception of "One Song Before I Go", "Weird Sisters", and "An Eye for an Eye" are all nearly two years old. It may be time to let them go and respect them for what they are: stories that taught me about writing.
Wednesday, September 24, 2003
75K
Another milestone today, 75,000 words. I can't help but wonder now if I'm going to go over 100,000 or not. We'll see, and very shortly too.
Tuesday, September 23, 2003
Back on track
I got back to work on The Exile's Daughter today after a two day break--unplanned. The rejection on Sunday shook me up pretty bad, but I responded by sitting down Sunday afternoon and writing what is arguably the best short story I've ever written. I'm letting it mellow for a little bit before I start sending it out. It's mainstream fiction, so that means I have a whole new batch of market research to do for it. The fall Minions retreat has been planned for the first weekend of October. Frighteningly enough, that may be the weekend I finish the first draft of this beast. There will be much rejoicing, believe me. In other news, I made myself cry while writing today. I think that means the scene worked.
Sunday, September 21, 2003
Another rejection this morning in my email ("The Girl Behind the Counter"). This is the first time a rejection has caused me to not write. I managed to set up my scene order for the next chapter of The Exile's Daughter (five chapters left, whee!), but that's it. I just didn't have the heart to dive into the chapter. It's not self-doubt, exactly. I'm getting a clearer picture of what my strengths and weaknesses are, I'm just still at that stage of not knowing how to fix them. Or if I can consciously fix them. Grar.
Friday, September 19, 2003
"The Weird Sisters, 2003" came back with a basic form rejection. I think tonight I'll look at it again with my nifty new editor eyes and see what I make of it. Not sure where it should go next. Hm.
Whew
No, you're not seeing things. There was a four thousand word jump between yesterday and today. I didn't work on Exile this morning because I needed to do a rewrite on "The Girl Behind the Counter". I spent a couple of hours last night, re-reading and making note of changes, using a lot of things I picked up from Self-Editing for Fiction Writers. Then today I rewrote the entire thing from scratch. In some places I was just retyping in (although even then I was making some subtle adjustments as I went), but there are two or three scenes that were either completely new or were utterly rewritten. I feel like I just ran a 100 yard dash. It was a mad extended sprint, and I'm exhilirated. I'm curious to see what the Minions will make of it. I think I'm taking the rest of the day off.
Thursday, September 18, 2003
Grar.
Shoulder still hurts. Getting tired. I've had three mornings in a row where all I've managed is about 500 words, and I keep telling myself to quit stressing about it. It'll get easier again. I just need to keep laying down one word after another and I'll get my second (or third or fourth at this point) wind. If I stop now, it'll be that much harder to start up again. It just irritates me because I'm at what should be a really exciting part of the book, and I can't focus nearly as well as I'd like.
Wednesday, September 17, 2003
Game called on account of internet
*sigh* I did close to 500 words this morning, but was completely distracted by various aspects of a new online project I'm involved in. This afternoon I'm going to go to the library and get away from the evil internet. Plus, there's Write Club tonight, which is always a good thing. I'm thinking tonight I may try and finish up the re-drafting of "Girl Behind the Counter", then give it a re-editing thanks to the interesting tips I've been picking up in A Fiction Writer's Guide to Self-Editing. Then send it to the Minions and see what they think. That almost sounds like a plan. Yikes.
Tuesday, September 16, 2003
Game called on account of injury
I dunno what I did, but my shoulder hurts like a son of a bitch this morning, so I'm knocking off early this morning. This afternoon I'm still planning to hit the library, we'll see if writing in a slightly different position is a little more bearable.
Monday, September 15, 2003
So I took a three-day weekend from writing. This wasn't entirely intentional, but it wasn't entirely a bad thing, either. I attacked things this morning, and wrote a couple of scenes that I really found pretty exciting. This is the neat thing about writing a novel. I'm finding that I'm having the same excitement about writing the scenes leading up to a climax as I would if I were reading the same scenes in someone else's book. Yeah, I said 'a' climax, because there's at least two. My September 30th deadline may not come to pass. We'll see. If I miss it, however, I shouldn't miss it by much. Not unless I'm wildly off about how much time it's going to take me to wrap up the rest of the story. Going to cross the 70K word mark this afternoon, barring catastrophe, officially making this the longest thing I've ever written. Heck, I think it already is. I think The Host topped out at about 63K. Very excited about this now. Excited to have a draft finished.
Thursday, September 11, 2003
Winding down
Weirdly, I have the sensation that The Exile's Daughter is winding down. It's not, not really. I mean, I still have at least five or six chapters to write, and those are the big climactic ones. But there's a realization that I'm honestly close to finishing it. It's an amazing feeling. I can already feel myself starting to detach from it in a way, getting ready to say goodbye maybe, starting to think about what projects might be next. While I seriously question the wisdom of diving into another novel right away, those are the only ideas I have simmering on the back burner. So what's next? I don't know for sure. I know I want to follow Stephen King's advice in On Writing and let the manuscript sit for a while before starting to edit. I'll hand the first draft out to several folks with strict instructions not to give me critiques for at least six weeks or so. After that, we'll see. I never really finished editing The Host, so this is new territory for me. Another reason to avoid starting a new novel. I'm not sure I want to wait three or four months to start editing this one--and I sure as hell don't want to try editing one novel while writing another one. I'll bet that way madness lies. Second draft, third one? Whenever, when it's ready, I'm going to quit farting around and start seriously looking for an agent. I said I was going to do it with The Host, but didn't, largely because I didn't think it was good enough. I think this one is good enough. Plus, I have considerably fewer distractions to keep me from successfully editing Exile, I think. One thing I can tell you for sure: my next big project WILL NOT be the sequel. I need something in between. I just don't know what.
Wednesday, September 10, 2003
It's a little scary how much more I'm getting done in the mornings now that I've stopped checking my email every ten minutes. It's even scarier what I had to do to make myself stop: every morning when I sit down to write, I have to unplug from the network completely and physically move my network adapter to the other side of the room. Otherwise I kept plugging it back in. But if I have to actually get up and go get it... well, that's too much work. It's amazing what we have to do break bad habits, eh? I'd fallen into the trap of popping open Outlook or IE every time I had a momentary blockage. Stopping that has nearly doubled my productivity, I think. Not a bad trade off.
Tuesday, September 09, 2003
On the path
I seem to have wandered temporarily out of that dense patch of woods in which I spent most of the past two weeks. Instead of having a path laid out in front of me, leaving me free to go merrily skipping through the forest with my little basket of goodies, stopping here and there to pick flowers, I've been forced to grab a machete and start hacking through the undergrowth until I found a way to go. Now I'm back on the path, basket in hand. Of course, now in addition to the goodies in the basket is the machete. I decided it was wise to keep it around, in case I run into another patch of undergrowth. Translation: I'm back to a section of the plot I have pretty well thought out. Writing scenes feels more like filling in the blanks than pulling teeth. Filling in the blanks creatively, of course. More like mad-libs than those stupid SAT verbal questions. Also, in case you missed it on the sidebar, I have a sequel in mind for The Exile's Daughter. I kinda fibbed. It isn't precisely untitled, but the title of the sequel might give away a little too much about the current book at the moment, so I'm keeping it to myself.
Friday, September 05, 2003
I said I'd post 'em, so here they are...
My epigraphs for The Exile's Daughter, for now. Two and three are subject to change. Part One (Chapters 1-6) Come away, O human child! To the waters and the wild With a faery, hand in hand, For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.Part Two (Chapters 7-11)--"The Stolen Child", W.B. Yeats Empty your heart of its mortal dream.Part Three (Chapters 12-?)--"The Hosting of the Sidhe", W.B. Yeats Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity.Not sure about the last two, as I've said. The first though, the first is practically carved in stone, particularly since the novel started out as a story with the title "A World More Full of Weeping". Dunno. The second one is reeeeeally starting to grow on me. Maybe for the last two, I'll mix in some other poets. Eliot's always a frontrunner.--"The Second Coming", W.B. Yeats
You knew I'd work Yeats in there somewhere...
On a whim, I divided the book up into three sections, each about six or seven chapters. Each section now has an epigraph taken from something of Yeats. The first one is perfect, I think the second one too, and not so sure about the third. I like the idea though, and am keeping my mind open about which quotations to use where. I'll post them later, cause I've got an appointment at one and have to run. Overall, excellent morning writing, almost 1500 words in one sitting. Haven't done that in a while.
Thursday, September 04, 2003
"Computer Dating"
Six day turnaround on "Computer Dating". Repackaged it to send off tomorrow morning to Analog. The problem is, I'm really not sure it's that good of a story. I like the basic idea, but the execution seems kinda naive to me now. But I don't feel like changing it right now, because changing it would mean a complete rewrite--and I'm not THAT in love with the idea. So it goes out, because hey, I might be wrong about its worth. I'll probably finish the edits on "Girl Behind the Counter" and get it sent back out by Monday. That one, at least, I'm still pleased with.
Trying again...
Write Club was a good thing last night, for several reasons. I needed a little boost of encouragement, for one, and Write Club is always excellent for that whether or not we actually manage to write. Sunday afternoon I had a brainstorm about "The Girl Behind the Counter", which I've always thought was a good story, no matter how many rejections it got. (Yeah, I'm the same way about "Midsummer".) I realized that my glee at discovering Harper-the-town as a setting when I wrote that story made it full of setting-related stuff that really had nothing to do with the story itself. While you can get away with that in a novel (to some extent), in a story, not so much. So last night while I was waiting for Julie and Mer to get there, I went through the story with my fabled pink pen of editing (it's less harsh than red!) and cut mercilessly. When I did the cuts on the Word doc, I discovered that I cut about 3000 words from a 7400 word story. I haven't reread it yet, but I have a feeling it's going to be MUCH better, especially in terms of pacing. Plus, since it's about a stumped writer, I think I neatly managed to excise all of the "oh woe is me, an unappreciated writer" stuff--which I didn't consciously put in as my own point of view, but it was definitely coming across that way. I also have yet another novel idea brewing, which also occurred to me last night. I have a hunch that Sword in the Mound is dead, and The Host, while not precisely dead, may continue in its zombie-like half-life indefinitely, having served its purpose well (got those first novel-writing jitters out of the way). That still leaves The Exile's Daughter, which is alive and growing in leaps and bounds, False Light, which still pokes through my subconscious on a regular basis, the Harper novel, wherein I will expand "Midsummer" and "Girl Behind the Counter" to my heart's content, along with some other ideas I've had for the town, and now this new one. The new one... dare I say it... isn't genre at all. It's straight, mainstream fiction. The scope of it makes me gasp a little. It takes place over four or five decades, and will track one woman's personal development using US culture and society as both a mirror and a backdrop. I think I might be a little young to write this one yet. I adore the idea though. For now, I should quit musing over future novels and get back to work writing the current one.
Tuesday, September 02, 2003
What the hell.
Why not? I submitted "The Weird Sisters, 2003" off to Strange Horizons. I was pretty happy with how it turned out, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to get it out the door while I still like it. Go me.
Slight change
I made a slight change to the sidebar, largely because I wanted to include a current page count as well. The page count is mostly there for my benefit. My Word doc got corrupted last week, including adding several pages of gibberish. If I'd been paying attention to my page count, I would have noticed it sooner, so... I'm keeping up with it now. Lucky you, you get to watch!
Sunday, August 31, 2003
Flash, ah-ah!
I've had a fragment stuck in my head since Write Club on Wednesday, and I finally sat down and extracted it this afternoon. The end result was a little 500 word bit of flash fiction currently titled "The Weird Sisters, 2003". I like the story, but I'm going to sit on it for a day or two before I look at revising.
Friday, August 29, 2003
Today
Have I written anything yet today? No. Have I been lazy? No. So far this morning I've been printing and packaging up submissions again, since everything came back from Glimmer Train with pretty much the same note on each. So, "Computer Dating" goes off to Fantasy and Science Fiction so JJA can reject it (although hope springs eternal than someday I'll get a rejection from Gordon Van Gelder instead), and "An Eye for an Eye" goes off to Cemetery Dance--I admit I have some high hopes on this one. You know you're getting the hang of this writing thing when you can rank the type of rejections you're getting. And hey, I had a handwritten note on my last F&SF rejection, so who knows!
Thursday, August 28, 2003
Quiet, but good
I'm having an awesome week in terms of writing, but there's not much to say about it other than that. The work is happening, I'm getting into another major plot point--so things have definitely picked up. At just over a thousand words today, this is the slowest day I've had all week. I blame an afternoon attack of the sleepies because I was up about an hour too late last night. Don't forget, kiddies, sleep is a valuable thing!
Tuesday, August 26, 2003
Wow.
Two insanely productive days in a row. If I make it three, I just might have to reward myself somehow. Bake cookies, or something. 2200 words yesterday, 2000 today. Go me.
Monday, August 25, 2003
Out of the house
I'd forgotten how nice it is to get out of the house to write. I spent the afternoon writing in a bookstore cafe, and got more done in two hours than I've managed in any three here at home lately. I'll have to keep this in mind. I decided to take the weekend off from writing, and I think it was one of the best things I could have done. Writing everyday is an admirable goal, and I'm definitely not giving up on that notion, but it's good to get away--to purposely get away, not miss writing through accident or laziness or whatever--every once in a while. I'm eager to see what happens tomorrow, if getting out of the house will continue to be a productive thing.
Friday, August 22, 2003
Closing in on 50,000
In the next day or so I'll cross the 50K word mark on The Exile's Daughter. It's a nice feeling, almost better than NaNoWriMo, because it hasn't felt frantic--largely because it's taken most of two months to do it instead of one. I've slowed down a lot compared to last month. I'm not sure what to think about that. I'm trying not to mind, because well, I'm still working consistently, and the story is moving along, just at a slightly slower pace. I haven't had as many exhilirated "wow, I wrote a LOT" days as I had before, and I have to admit, I kind of miss that. Still, an average of about 5,000-6,000 words a week is nothing to sneeze at, and I deserve to get kicked for thinking otherwise.
Thursday, August 21, 2003
Vocal characters
I think I've successfully conveyed, here and elsewhere, how much I enjoy writing dialogue, especially when it's crisp and snappy, but also when it's really revealing stuff. I've noticed, in this novel particularly, characters seem to give speeches and have monologues quite a bit. I'm not sure if it's good or bad, but they're usually tremendous fun to write. Today had a monologue that just made me beam for hours afterwards. I love that feeling. Love it love it love it. It's what makes me keep fighting.
Tuesday, August 19, 2003
Whew
Today was good. Today was more like the early part of the month. Crossing fingers that I'm back on track. Go me!
Monday, August 18, 2003
Slow and steady
Trying to get back into my usual routine today. I was partly successful. Which is better than last week, which was barely successful. Managed about 1100 words today, and the good news, people are talking to me again. Tomorrow should go much more smoothly than today. I was despairing of my much-vaunted newly-discovered self-discipline this morning. The afternoon was better.
Saturday, August 16, 2003
Stupid blackout!
Well, obviously, I didn't do much of anything on Thursday or Friday because of the power situation here in the northeastern corner of the country. My schedule is completely off. Next week is going to be a real struggle to get back into writing regularly and in real amounts, not bits here and there. :P This morning has been pokey, because I've mostly been doing housekeeping work--getting submissions ready and such. I ended up chopping about 10 percent of "Computer Dating". The tech wasn't so much the problem (although I really do still need to clean a bit of that up) as the writing. I'd forgotten, I started writing that story two years ago! It's not horrid, but I really have improved as a writer since then. Most of the chopping I did came from my tendency to overexplain and weigh down dialogue with lots of extraneous crap. I think it improved the story quite a bit. Once I get the technical aspects straight (I so should not write science fiction), I'm optimistic about it. It hasn't gone to F&SF yet, so that's where it's off to next, once I'm happy with it. Also did a little bit of cleanup work on "An Eye for an Eye", which also came back from Glimmer Train last night. However, since I just wrote that last summer, there didn't seem to be nearly as much to clean up. After a little bit of actual (gasp!) market research, that one will be going out to Cemetery Dance once I buy some envelopes. And finally, on a whim, I signed up for the Virtual Studio at Zoetrope Studios. While they seem to be geared towards filmmakers, there is a section for short story writers. It's the usual thing, you critique stories and in turn have yours critiqued. I submitted "Midsummer", mostly because I'm curious to see what non-genre readers think of it. I read a couple of the stories there, and was impressed. There's definitely spec-fic tinge to several of them, but some of them were fairly literary in their approach. This looks promising. Okay, I've put off starting Chapter 9 of The Exile's Daughter long enough. Back to work!
Wednesday, August 13, 2003
Submissions
Well, "Computer Dating" came back from Glimmer Train last night with just a note attached that said it wasn't right for the magazine. I kinda knew that. I'm so bad about doing magazine submissions. I sort of send them out willynilly sometimes. I really like the story, but I know my tech knowledge is weak in a couple of places in it. I should really take the time to fix it before I send it back out, but I hate taking time away from The Exile's Daughter to work on it. Also still debating if I should send "Midsummer" out somewhere again or not. In other news, I was up a little too late last night and my brain is foggy. Grar.
Tuesday, August 12, 2003
Holy cow!
Well, I successfully managed to dodge the Sims this afternoon, resulting in another 1600 words this afternoon. Yes, you read that right. I managed almost 3400 words today without even breaking a sweat. I keep rechecking my word count because that can't be right. It was too easy. The secret, of course, is that I got to another section of the story that I was really eager to write, so I blasted through it. I think it came out well, but I think it's going to mean getting rid of the prelude I originally tacked on at the beginning. Later. I'll get rid of it later. I am so psyched. I've gone from being three days behind my 1500 words a day schedule to just being two days behind. Piece of cake. I can catch up. However, taking another look at my outline to see how many chapters I've projected are left, and going by the lengths of my chapters so far, this is going to be 90,000-100,000 words. I never would've believed that I'd write something so long! You know what that means? It means I'm right about at the halfway point. Heaven help me. Half done. Woot!
Whoops...
Well, I managed to cross the 40K line today instead of yesterday. Yesterday afternoon I was hit by an attack of the Sims, and never quite managed to get back to writing yesterday afternoon. This has resulted in a new rule in my house about Sim-playing: not until after 7pm. I swear that game's a black hole, not even light can escape it. Still, an excellent morning of 1700 words. I'm still feeling very geared up as well, so I think after lunch I'll dive back in and see how much more I can do.
Monday, August 11, 2003
Goal for today
I'd like to hit 40,000 words on The Exile's Daughter by the end of the day. That's another 1700 words. I think I can do it, if I push a little. We'll see what happens after lunch.
Sunday, August 10, 2003
Lazy Sunday
Well, lazy weekend, really. I took yesterday completely off, but managed about 1700 words today. I figured out that I'm about three days behind my "1500 words a day" projection. Considering the horrific week I had last week, that's really not so bad. I'm just dealing with a little touch of frustration, because I feel like I could be pushing myself harder than I am. I mean, on the one hand, that's silly. I'm getting myself into a regular writing schedule, and I'm doing it almost every day, for at least three hours a day. I guess I feel like I could be doing MORE with that three hours, or that I have more than three hours to spare, given my uniquely open schedule at the moment. Before you all comment and smack me upside the head: I know. I know I'm probably expecting too much of myself. There're just days when five pages a day doesn't seem like a lot of output. On days like that, I end up taking too far of a step back and look at the wall I'm building, then look at the brick in my hand and get discouraged. Labor Day is looming. I really want the first draft finished by then. I have to start accepting that it may not happen, that September 30th may be a much more realistic goal, if only because this is going to run longer than the 60,000-70,000 words I'd originally envisioned. And in the long run, it's better to take longer to turn out a good quality first draft than to spend the extra time ripping my hair out over a crappy first draft. If only I could continually remain convinced of that fact...
Friday, August 08, 2003
Woot!
1500 words this morning, BAM! I'm baaaack! I'm not being cocky, really. Things just came clearer to me, and my brain was much less foggy this morning. It feels good to write again. I'm about 3000 words behind my schedule, but I can deal with that. I'm just glad to have all my characters talking to me again.
Thursday, August 07, 2003
Slow week
Grar. Tuesday and Wednesday were rough. I spent a lot of time staring aimlessly at the computer screen. I felt pretty stuck. Write Club last night was an enormous help in getting me unstuck, but today has still be kind of slow going. I'm hoping this afternoon will kick off a little faster. It's like I hit the middle of the story and just got mired in little details, details that I couldn't figure out and didn't want to gloss over. But, after a pep talk with Mer and the prudent purchase of a map of Philadelphia, I feel a little less unstuck. I swear, I think the map purchase was more symbolic than anything else. I mean, I'm really using Philadelphia more as a basis for the setting than the actual setting, but having something concrete to look at gave me a sense of security. Still at an average of about 1,000 words a day, but hoping to improve that to 1,500 before the month's out.
Monday, August 04, 2003
Presents for ME?!
The Plot Fairy visited me this morning with all sorts of goodies. She sprinkled my outline with lots of scene and conflict ideas, but unfortunately most of them had to do with the final act of the novel. The act I'm diving into right now is still pretty skeletal, but it's getting better. My characters are starting to tell me exactly what's important to them and what they want to do, which in some ways, makes plotting much much easier. I very much like the world that I've created here, but I'm finding that I need to fill in a few more basic details. However, the more I think about it, answering some of those questions (like, how does Jack's merry little band survive?) can provide a lot of scenes for the act I'm about to start working on. I seem to alternate between two states of mind when writing this. For lack of anything better to call them, they're the intuitive state and the construction state. The intuitive state is when the characters take off and I write and write and don't seem to have anything to do with what's actually going on the page, like I'm transcribing. The construction state seems to happen most often when I'm outlining or when I'm plotting out a scene, where it's much more conscious. I'm deliberately weighing bricks of plot and dialogue in my hands, trying to figure out which ones to use, arranging and rearranging them to see how things fit together. I always hated that part before. I'm finding that I'm actually really enjoying it (most of the time) on this project. I have this vision of my plot in my mind like a great big net. Right now, the space between the weave is kinda loose in places, the holes are big enough for things to slip through. When I have a day like today, where the pieces all start to click into place, I envision that net drawing up, the weave getting pulled tighter and tighter by an unseen hand. I don't know that The Exile's Daughter will ever be woven tight enough to be waterproof, but I'm thinking that even at this point, it's already starting to hold a little water.
Sunday, August 03, 2003
Aha. Writing this afternoon was much smoother. I don't know if it was the caffeine, or just that I'd had a small nap or what, but I managed to get through most of a new scene I'd been sort of dreading. All things considered, I'm still feeling wonderfully optimistic about this whole project. :)
Zzzzz...
After a very drowsy morning, I managed just under 900 words this morning, most of it finishing up Margaret's story about what happened to Jack's father. Knocking off a little bit before noon today because, heck, it's Sunday. I'm sure I'll jump back in to writing this afternoon, anyway.
Saturday, August 02, 2003
Famous last words...
That minor character is stepping up to at least supporting character, I think. She's going to tell Alex everything she needs to know about the history of Jack's little group, including what happened to Jack's father. In the meantime, she's amusing me greatly. Another 1,000 words this afternoon, putting me right back on track for my 1,500 words a day. Woohoo!
Milestones
The faerie research paid off today, if only to get an amusing anecdote about a minor character. Of course, she's minor NOW, but who knows what she'll be fifty pages from now. Speaking of pages, I crossed two big milestones today: 30,000 words and 100 pages (I average about 300 words a page). In my mind, I have the storyline divided up into thirds. I've also just crossed into the second third of the novel. I don't know yet if my 'thirds' will actually be equal in size at all, but it's nice to have some sort of concrete reference point for where I am. I didn't get to post yesterday since my site was down. Yesterday was pretty interesting. A nifty subplot or two revealed themselves, and I made myself cry while writing one scene--it was all very sad for one of the characters. Word count has been down a little bit this week, but I'm thinking I'll regain some ground this afternoon. Heck, I've already regained some ground. And speaking of milestones, yesterday was the two year anniversary for this journal. I can't believe it's been that long! Looking back through the archives, I was a little sad to see that I was still working on some of the same stories back then as I'm struggling with now. Yikes.
Thursday, July 31, 2003
Enh
Not a great morning in terms of word count, only about 300, and all of that outline. BUT, had some serious character breakthroughs, and as a result, the plot shifted a little bit if a way I hadn't foreseen. This is a very good thing. I'm off to the library to get some books on faeries for research, and then back to dive back in this afternoon, make up some of what I didn't write this morning.
Wednesday, July 30, 2003
Easy as pie
This morning was like rolling down a hill. It's funny, dialogue comes so much more easily for me than action. When my characters speak, it's like I'm just there transcribing what's going on. When they're actually doing something, it fumble for the right words to describe it. I guess that's not so weird, really. We all talk every day, but how many of us narrate exactly what we're doing to an unseen audience? Barring those of us who are film-noir characters, of course.
Tuesday, July 29, 2003
Another 2,000 word day!
Wow. I feel like I'm flying. I mean, when I'm doing the actual process, I don't. I feel like molasses. But when I look back at the end of the day, I feel completely exhilirated. Got most of the way through the big combat scene today. I think it's clear, but I don't know how exciting it is to read. As I keep saying though, that's what the second draft is for. Right now I just want to get the blocking done, so to speak, to figure out who's where and when and why and what happens. It felt really really good to cross the 29,000 word mark on the 29th. Despite the several days off I've taken this month, and the several really crappy writing days, I'm averaging over a 1,000 words a day. Yay! At this rate, I really might have a first draft by Labor Day.
Finally... fight!
I finally wrapped up all the lead-in this morning for my big combat scene, which I'm a tad nervous about writing, but it's a nervous excitement. After all, a desire to try my hand at writing combat is what got me into this particular mess. That was one on one combat though, and this is mass combat, with lots of things going on at once. We'll see how things go after lunch. Oh, I also had a character realization about Weylin that amused me. I described him to Julie and Mer "sort of Aragorn-ish, if Aragorn had much of a sense of humor at all." There are a few other major differences there too, but I won't go into those here, so as not to spoil the plot for some of you who'll be reading this later.
Monday, July 28, 2003
*flop*
Another 800 or so words, making this a 2,000 word day. Some of that was outline work, filling in details and getting them out of my head before I could work on starting the new scene. It's funny, some days the words come and they're all crystal clear and others they feel muddy and blah and when you finish you try and remember exactly what you said and can't. That's how this afternoon was. Interestingly enough, that feeling isn't always indicative of the writing being bad. Sometimes it is, but sometimes it's just that maybe I'm writing more directly from my unconscious or something. Unfortunately, I have a hunch today was not one of those days. I keep telling myself, that's what second drafts are for.
Progress once again
Back on the horse today, go me. I managed 1200 words this morning, with plans to write again after lunch. Apparently the brain dump I did yesterday really helped, because I was able to wrap up my exposition pretty painlessly. I don't know how well it's done, but it's done. Polishing it and making it something worth reading I'll leave for the second draft. The important thing is that now I know what's going on in my own world here. I went on a library ransacking last night, wandering through my local library's online catalogue and requesting a bunch of folklore and mythology books from other libraries, since the local one doesn't have much of a selection at all. It may be a case of too little too late, but it'll be entertaining reading anyway.
Sunday, July 27, 2003
Bump in the road
After not writing at all yesterday, today was a difficult day. As Mer has been prone to doing lately, I found myself resisting the urge to sing out "Exposition!" while I started today's scene. Alex, having heard some unpleasant rumors about her parents, is asking Weylin for the truth of the matter--or at least, part of the matter. What I realized today is that I haven't thought things through a lot, in terms of the faerie society that I've set up. I know some of how things are, but not why. So most of what I've done today has been to try and untangle all of my thoughts on the subject. Which has resulted in a brain dump straight into my world-building Word doc. ;) I also realized that I need more encyclopedic-type books on fairy folklore. I miss my copy of A Field Guide to the Little People. It was cheesy, but it had some useful stuff in it. My biggest fear right now is that my fae will look and feel and sound like they stepped straight from one of White Wolf's Changeling books. Or worse, that it'll seem like I tried too hard to make them UNlike White Wolf's changelings. Grar. Not thinking about that one too hard. Managed about 500 words today. Back on the horse tomorrow. Gods, I hate exposition.
Friday, July 25, 2003
New title, whee!
The new working title for the novel is The Exile's Daughter. There's some debate still whether the "The" will stay or not, but for now it's there. I like it. I'm also dangerously in love with Jack. Someone please tell me that other writers do this too. He's an absolute delight to write about, almost more so than Alex, the protagonist and title character. It's like, when I know he's about to show up in a scene, I get all excited about writing it. It's a little unsettling.
Thursday, July 24, 2003
Plugging right along...
Another 1,500 words today. It's an eminently reachable goal for me for a day. Some days I can manage more, but 1,500 is always a challenge, but not so much of one that I want to rip my hair out (usually). I may have a new title. The one I've got in mind has gotten a favorable response so far. If I still like it tomorrow, I'll make it official.
Wednesday, July 23, 2003
Woohoo!
After another slow start this morning (I'm noticing a trend here--I think I just start slow), today was an exhilirating day of writing. Not so much for the morning's word count (1396) but because of how things took off and twisted on me. What was supposed to be a lightly bantering conversation where one character asks for help from another character started out that way but morphed into an all out fight, even turning physical at one point. It was one of those scenes where I had to keep typing because I didn't know what was going to happen yet. I had to write it to see. :) It also served to bring out some nasty family secrets that had been hidden from some key people until now. You know, I wasn't going to write this afternoon, but I may have to, just to see what's going to happen next... :)
Tuesday, July 22, 2003
Afternoon writing a success
I had the same problems this afternoon in getting a jumpstart as I had this morning, but once I got going, things weren't so bad. The scenes for the rest of the chapter are slowly but surely starting to gel together in my head, and one of the characters, who was seeming sort of limp, is getting crisper--although damned if I understand what his motivations are yet. All in all, this was the most productive day I've had all month: 2500 words, with all but about 200 of that directly on the manuscript itself.
Not an entirely horrid morning...
Well, after a serious case of the blahs this morning, I managed to do fairly well. I'm going to try for another couple of hours this afternoon while I'm doing my laundry, see if I can't crack the 20,000 mark, at least for the month if not on the actual manuscript, which at this particular moment stands at just under 18,000 words. I'm rapidly approaching the point where my map goes hazy and uncertain. I may have to send ahead a few scouts to figure out the territory before I get there.
Very interesting...
"Midsummer" came back again overnight, but with some startlingly thorough comments attached. She felt a linear structure would have been better than the flashback structure I used--and ironically, I started with a linear structure. Most interesting of all, however, was this comment: "I almost wonder if it isn't trying to do too much for a short story." As I'm leaning that way myself, I'm wondering if I really shouldn't just set it aside until I finish the current novel and then go from there. Nice to see that an editor sees the same issue with it that I do.
Monday, July 21, 2003
11 days and counting!
This is the eleventh straight day I've sat myself down to write for several hours a day. GO ME! This has been therapeutic for me in so many ways. I feel like I'm really getting somewhere, not just with this novel, but with my life. I may be unemployed, but by golly, I'm writing a novel! I love my villain. He's a wonderfully villain-y villain. But as I've said, he's not pure black. I understand completely why he's doing what he's doing. Everything he's done so far, he's doing out of his own arrogance combined with a misguided sense of loyalty and love. Which, for me, makes him the best kind of villain ever. :) I spent a huge chunk of yesterday reading Betsy Lerner's Forest for the Trees: An Editor's Advice to Writers. I'm over halfway through now, and I want to own this book. And soon. There's so much information in it, not to mention a considerable amount of encouragement. I feel like I'm on the right track here. So far I've just been doing my work in the morning, then spending the afternoon goofing off or doing housework or whatever. This week I'm going to focus on spending some time in the afternoons writing as well, see if it works or if it's too much. Maybe not every day yet, but say three days a week. Not today though. Today I'm rewarding myself with a second viewing of "Pirates of the Caribbean". Whee!
Sunday, July 20, 2003
Feh
Fuck it. "Midsummer" is back out in circulation. I'll keep sending it out until I'm actually ready to start expanding it into a novel. If nothing else, maybe I'll get some helpful comments on it.
I think this is a sickness...
Back on the horse, at least as far as the novel is concerned. Did quite a bit today, including some exciting parts that made me bounce while I was writing them. After last night, this can only be a good thing. Novel word count is now over 15,000. One of my characters, who started out loud and strong and clear, is becoming increasingly murky and difficult to work with. I need to poke him until he tells me what he's up to. Decided to set aside "Midsummer" for a bit. I have absolute faith in the story I'm trying to tell, I'm just not sure I'm going about it right way at all. It occurred to me this morning that maybe the problem with it is not that it's too long, but that it's too short. There are a lot of ideas and themes I tried to sandwich in there, all important things that I wanted to say, using the selkie myth as the backdrop, but several things got cut or given just a surface run through. So as I was eating breakfast this morning, it came to me: what if it should be a novel too? Before you roll your eyes at me... it could work. Of course, it would be a completely different sort of novel from any of the others I'm tossing around. I can see it being a very small, thoughtful, dreamlike sort of novel. Maybe even a touch surreal, a la Jeanette Winterson or Toni Morrison. Hell, it's practically that sort of story already, which might explain part of the problem I'm having getting it published. It's a story where the point is not the story, so much as how it's told and what it brings up. And the markets I've been sending it too aren't so much interested in that sort of thing. So anyway, I'm going to set it aside until I finish the first draft of Alex's story (I HATE the working title at the moment--I think I need a new one) and then see what happens.
Saturday, July 19, 2003
*sigh*
Well, I just got my fifth rejection in a year on "Midsummer". The same old "liked the writing, not the story" type. A couple of times I've gotten the comment that it's too predictable. That one irks me a little, because I'm not sure how to fix it. It's the retelling of a myth. How can I make that unpredictable? :P I think I love the story too much to see any of this objectively. A little discouraged, but not entirely so. I'm just not quite sure where to go from here. Strange Horizons said it was too long. I'm inclined to agree, but I'm not sure what to cut. So... kinda stuck. I'll take a look at everything in the morning.
Day of rest
Well, sort of, anyway. I did about five hundred words today, most of which were outline and plotting-related rather than actual manuscript words. I had a few major plot revelations in the past 24 hours, which can only be a good thing. Suffice to say, things just got considerably more complicated. It's not longer completely clear who's evil and who isn't. There are protagonists and antagonists, but with a few exceptions, they're all shaded in gray. Some are just darker gray than others. While I am trying to work every day here, I think I may use weekends largely for edits and that sort of thing. I passed the pages I printed yesterday on to a friend, and reprinted the first two chapters today for myself. I went through the prelude and chapter one, marking a few changes and noticing a few questions I need to answer later. Which led to the second plot revelation I had--so I feel like I actually did get something done, even if I wasn't furiously typing. Looking over my word count spreadsheet (yes, I have one, yes it's ridiculously complex, but it makes me feel good), I noticed that I've written every single day since the 11th, and I've been working regularly all month, with only five days of absolutely no writing work at all. It feels very very good, to put it mildly. :)
Friday, July 18, 2003
It's been a distracted couple of days, but I've managed about a thousand words yesterday and today. Things are perking right along, plotwise. I've finally filled in all the holes in what I'd written up to the point I decided this was a novel instead of a story, and am now ready to move ahead with the storyline. I also printed out the prelude and the first three chapters. Partly because I wanted that sense of accomplishment, to see those forty pages of paper all in a big pile, evidence that I've been working my ass off. Also partly because I'm really tempted to hand them off to someone else, to see if they find the story so far as fascinating as I do. I'm always of two minds when it comes to showing someone an unfinished work. On the one hand, I seriously crave some validation. With a short story, it's easier, because it's finished sooner. With a novel... well, I'm in it for the long haul. And also, I'm spending so much time focused on this now, I want to be able to share it with someone who'll know what I'm talking about when I start rambling. We'll see. Maybe I'll just print it and stick it in a binder and look at it every so often until I've got more to add.
Wednesday, July 16, 2003
Music, routine, and rambling
Crossed the 10,000 word mark today on the actual novel manuscript. I'm starting to think I might actually have enough story in mind to make this thing long enough. Yay me! It was another slow start day. I stared at the screen and wriggled and growled and generally was frustrated until about 10:30 or so. Part of this is because I started a new chapter, and I hate starting new scenes and chapters cold. Even worse, it wasn't a chapter where I originally saw anything particularly exciting happening. Instead, it was supposed to be more of a "lull before the storm" chapter where we see the main characters going through their usual lives before it all gets turned upside down. Finally I got started and... whoops. One of my characters insisted on being somewhere I hadn't planned for him to be, resulting in two characters meeting that I hadn't planned to have meet yet. Yes, there is ordinary life happening here, but the world has already started its inevitable flip. It turned out well, and it feels right. Once again, my characters know better than I what should be happening in the story and when. In case I haven't mentioned it, I've become a creature of frighteningly regular habit, at least where writing is concerned. I'm usually in front of the computer ready to write by 9 or 9:30 each morning, and I try to work until at least noon, depending on how much I get done. It's almost become a ritual. There are several things I have to have to settle in and work. First and foremost, a cup of coffee at my left hand. Not just any cup of coffee, but my gigantic Starbucks ceramic mug of coffee filled with hazelnut coffee creamer and sugar. Next, music. Here's where I really get anal. I used to set up MP3 playlists for each piece I was working on and listen to the appropriate one. However, my MP3s are unavailable at the moment, so I've gone back to using the CD changer on my stereo. The list of CDs I can actually listen to while writing, however, is very limited. Each morning, I pick any three of the following, put them in, and hit random play:
Tuesday, July 15, 2003
Holy crap!
Another 2,000 word day, putting my monthly count so far over 10,000 words. I'm astounded and amazed. Today I did a pretty big chunk of fleshing out my outline, realizing that the outline I had so far was not going to be much near novel length. So one of the center sections got longer. And a subplot or two got thrown into the mix. This is so cool. It's like this weird combination of my usual freestyle writing combined with a more analytical, building block approach. The novel word count itself is approaching 10,000 as well. Yesterday I went to the library and found two books on writing I'm looking forward to reading. The first was Writing the Novel: From Plot to Print by Lawrence Block. I've read one of his writing books before, Telling Lies for Fun and Profit, and while I don't always agree with his approach, he's amusing to read and has some good insights. The other one was The Forest for the Trees: An Editor's Advice to Writers by Betsy Lerner. This one I'm really looking forward to diving into, after I finish the Block. Heh. The librarian who checked out my books said, "Oh cool, you're a writer?" I answered, "Well, I'm trying to be." Then I stopped and corrected myself. "No, I mean, I am a writer. I just haven't been paid much for it yet." Of course, she asked what I was writing, and her eyes went blank and kinda glazed when I told her it was urban fantasy. ;)
Monday, July 14, 2003
I think I'm in love...
Well, it took me forever to get focused and motivated enough to get anything done this morning, but get something done I did. About another 1100 words today, most of them focused on Jack, who, by the way, I am officially crazy about. He's a wiseass, and he's either very brave about it or very foolhardy. He's fullblooded fae, but only half what I've come to call High Court fae (i.e., sidhe). His father was some sort of cat-shifter, cait sidhe, maybe. Anyway, here's a bit that made me especially happy this morning, Jack returning 'home' after his interview with the Prince, and after playing a trick on a mortal couple. It also introduces Jenny, who I have a feeling I'm very much going to like as well. Whiskers twitching with glee, the cat moved out of earshot of the couple. Within a few minutes, it reached a dark alleyway, and bounded into it. It did not move unnoticed, however. A waifish girl with black hair done in a myriad of tiny braids, scarves and spangles hanging from her tiny body, saw the cat and followed, darting across the street on mismatched blue and purple high top sneakers. "Hey!" she called. When there was no answer, she gave an exasperated sigh. "Come on out, will ya? I know it's you." Again there was no sound, save for a rustling behind one of the rusted dumpsters. The girl grew irritated. "Fine, be an asshole." Rather than leaving, however, she folded her arms across her slender chest and stayed where she was. "Go away, Jenny." The voice, perfectly human, sounded from behind the dumpster. "We were worried about you!" Jenny shot back, patience wearing thin. "Word on the street was that you got hauled in, Jack. Nobody knew who had you, if it was the cops or..." "It was William," Jack said, sighing and stepping out from behind the dumpster reluctantly. "I'm out, Jenny. He threw me out." "About damn time too," Jenny said with an approving nod. "You've been nothing but trouble all along and now you've come to the bad end everyone always said you'd come to." "I know. Aren't you proud of me?" "So proud I'm about to bust," Jenny said, face breaking into a grin.
Sunday, July 13, 2003
Holy cow...
I've been Productive Girl this weekend. At our impromptu Write Club session yesterday, I managed about 1200 words, and today I managed over 2000. The main points of my outline are finished. I know the major plot points all the way through the ending of the novel. There's still plenty of room for improvisation and inspiration to strike (like today, for example, I realized a few things about the Prince--who did, by the way, move up in the world), but I know where I'm going approximately. Also, Resistance Boy has officially been given a name: Jack. And so far he's a pretty nifty character, I think. Right now I'm so very excited about this project. I'm trying to figure out what an appropriate deadline for a first draft would be. My first thought is October 31st. We'll see. I'll need to get a better idea of what sort of word count I'm shooting for. If I can keep up this pace though, I could have a respectable sized novel by October. Of course, all of this depends entirely on my employment situation, which is always subject to change. But hell, as long as I'm unemployed, I'm going to write like a fiend.
Friday, July 11, 2003
Outline, ho!
Or maybe that should be "outlining ho", cause that's what I've been today. I did a little bit of worldbuilding, nailing down some of the "rules" that my faeries have to cope with in their modern world setting. Then I touched up my summary a little bit, raising such valid questions as "If the faerie prince is living in an abandoned subway station, where the fuck does that put the city's fae underbelly?" The prince may end up moving up in the world, literally and figuratively. Then I actually started doing the outline itself. I have never, EVER actually done a formal outline for any work of fiction except the Tribe 8 stuff, and only then because the editor required it. So far... it's incredibly liberating. I can just blue-sky plot ideas and copy and paste them around until they fit together like a jigsaw puzzle. I'd forgotten that I sort of like this part, even though I generally detest outlining. I guess you could say I'm drawing up my travel plans and road map. Always allowing, of course, for detours. Is it bad that so far one of my brand new major characters is only referred to in my notes as "Resistance Boy"? I dunno. I know he needs a name eventually, but it's keeping me so amused...
Tuesday, July 08, 2003
Process needed badly
Now see, here's why I get grumpy when a short story idea turns into a novel idea. I know how to write short stories. I have a process to follow, and it works pretty well. I haven't figured out a good way to write a novel yet. For The Host, I followed pretty much the same procedure I use to write short stories: dive in and go, handwrite notes and journal my way through plot knots. I wound up with a big, confusing mess of a first draft that I have no real idea how to organize or edit. So when I got the idea for False Light, I decided to take a different approach. I have a notebook full of plot notes, character notes, title ideas, subplot ideas, partial outlines, setting notes... and I haven't written a single useable word of a draft yet. Then came my second attempt at NaNoWriMo, The Sword in the Mound. Now, admittedly, since I didn't really take this novel seriously when I first started, I did a rather Host-like approach, with only a few more notes than the first time. Now my problem there is that it got serious on me, and wants to be a real novel instead of an amusing bit of semi-pornographic fluff. So I'm kinda feeling stuck on it, 25,000 words in. Now I have this urban fantasy thing that I can't even seem to find a decent title for. Grar. I'm trying a combination of all the above approaches. Since I started it as a short story, I've got about 5,000 words of a draft that I really am pleased with. I have characters that interest me. I've also tried to map out the whole mess, so I at least have a vague notion of where we're all going and how we might get there. Just something to follow in case I get lost--which based on experience, I will. I wrote a 500 word summary this morning of backstory, current plot, and where I see the novel going. I've got my notebook o' doom already set up, filling out character ideas, ready for relationship maps and research ideas. It's almost like, for The Host, I just hopped in the car and started driving wildly off. I got to where I wanted to go, sort of, but now I can't find my way back home. For False Light, I've spent so much time carefully planning and mapping my destination, I've never even managed to pick up my car keys. Sword in the Mound? Hopped in the car, grabbed a random atlas, and forgot to fill up the gas tank. This time... I hope, I HOPE I've learned my lesson. I'm already in the car and driving, but I have a map with me, and am making little notes on it as I drive along, looking at the scenery so I can remember the way home. Please God, let me make it back home on this one.
Setting questions
Now that I've actually commited myself to writing this monster, I'm left with some of the same questions I've had before, particularly with Sword. How do I describe a setting I'm not completely familiar with? Writing The Host was easy in that respect. I set it in Ann Arbor, which I know pretty much like the back of my hand. NOW I completely understand why Stephen King sets everything in his little corner of Maine (with some notable exceptions--which I've noticed, are also places he's lived). The only problem with that is, I haven't lived in very many interesting places. Just Michigan and Nashville and then the hellhole that was northwest Tennessee. I don't think this story will work in any of those places. It's definitely urban in feel. I decided on Philadelphia because I've at least been there several times, but I still don't know much about it. I could probably fake my way through writing about New York, but that seems a little tired and cliche. I suppose this means setting research as well as mythological research--although, not so much of the latter. I've got a good handle on the fae side of things, I just need to figure out what take I'm using on it. And unlike with The Host, I'm not going to leave the major questions like that until I'm 50,000 words into the manuscript.
Monday, July 07, 2003
I suppose this means I need subplots now, doesn't it? And an outline of some sort. *sigh* Work, work, work. Plan for July updated to reflect this.
Fuck.
Well. "From a World More Full of Weeping" is not a short story. It is not a novella. It's a goddamn novel. Ah well. At least I realized it early enough that I can start fixing the worldbuilding holes I left and filling in details--but it's late enough that I'm well and truly sucked in by the characters and plot so I'm eager to work on it. However, it means that I really don't like the title for it, but it'll do for a working title for now. So if anyone asks me what I got for my birthday, I'm going to tell them I got a new novel to write. To quote Julie, "Happy birthday from your subconscious, Lisa!"
Friday, July 04, 2003
Excerpt
I didn't have much time to write this morning, since we're going to a cookout here shortly, but I wanted to write at least a little bit, if only to keep up my streak. ;) After finishing a pretty intense scene with my villain, I switched back to Alex and her two year old sister, introduced in an earlier scene. What came out amused me, so I thought I'd post a bit of it: "Go out?" Callie said hopefully, for what felt like the hundredth time that morning. Alex sighed, her patience wearing thin. "No, honey, we have to stay inside today because of my hurt arm." Well, it was almost true. Alex didn't dare stray too far from home with her sister, for fear that she'd run into another of the Prince's men. Callie looked at the bandage on Alex's arm with a two year old's skepticism and sounded dubious as she asked, "Alex owie?" Clearly, she wasn't buying it. Of course, she hadn't bought it the first ninety-nine times either. "That's right, Callie," Alex tried to sound as soothing as she could, recognizing the signs of an impending tantrum. "When I'm all better, we'll go to the park." That was a miscalculation. Callie wailed, "Paaaaaaaaark!" It was followed by another rousing chorus of "Go out!" as she burst into tears. Yielding to the inevitable, Alex winced slightly and kept out of the path of Hurricane Callie for a few minutes, when over the cries and whining she heard a knock on the door. Grateful for the distraction, she went to look through the peephole--but not before stopping by the kitchen and pulling a knife from the cabinet. Well, I amused myself, anyway. ;)
Thursday, July 03, 2003
Busy busy girl!
In addition to knocking out almost another 1,000 words on "World" (putting the story over the 4,000 word mark with no real middle even in sight), I also finally got off my ass and resubmitted all four stories listed in the "In Circulation" section. Technically, that hasn't been true for a bit. All four stories came back with rejections while I was in the middle of the crap I went through this spring, and I never had the energy or confidence to resend them back out. Well, they're back out now. "Girl Behind the Counter", "Eye for an Eye", and, "Computer Dating" all went to Glimmer Train, since they only do submissions a few times a year and they allow you to submit up to three stories at a time. Lazy of me, sure, but hey, I can't find my envelopes (haven't unpacked them yet, apparently) and I'm running out of e-sub markets. ;) "Midsummer", after a lot of thought (and about four or five rejections elsewhere), went to Strange Horizons. I was kind of reluctant to send that one to them next. Yes, they actually BOUGHT my last submission to them, but my last submission to them was "Rhythm of the Tides", which is also a selkie story. I was kinda hoping to send them something non-selkie-ish before sending them "Midsummer", lest they discover my obsession. But, it's a good market for it, I think, and "Rhythm" went to them over a year ago, so... I went for it. But, it feels really GOOD to have stories in circulation again!
Wednesday, July 02, 2003
Hooray for villains!
I didn't manage much actual word count today, but I do have the Prince a little more mapped out in my head. He has a name that isn't TOO screamingly Celtic, and he has a description. I also pinned down a setting for the whole thing: Philadelphia. Or, as Alex now thinks during the opening fight, "City of Brotherly Love, my ass." Have I mentioned how much I love Alex? Also figured out what I want to work on this month. I finally realized that if I just keep sticking Sword up on the list, I'm never going to work on it, so I'm being more specific. Besides which, this Beltaine scene has been a thorn in my side for months. I already know it's going to be the first seriously sexual encounter between Tiernan and Catriona (although, true to genre form, it won't end up as actual intercourse--unless the two of them overrule me on the subject *grin*). This is the stuff I've been nervous about writing ever since I started writing this damn novel. Given the encounters the two have had so far, I'm not sure this is going to be a sweet, soft-focus, Vasoline-lensed scene at all. And damn it, I WILL write it this month.
Sunday, June 29, 2003
A plot has found me!
I have the seeds of a plot for my story, which crossed the 3,002-word mark tonight. Go me! I may not be done tonight. We'll see if inspiration hits later on. For now I'm feeling the need for a nap, which given the hour, I doubt I'll take. This is definitely not a short story. 3,000 words in, and I don't think we're done meeting major characters yet. I'm thinking it probably will be novella length. Probably NOT novel (she says hopefully, two in progress and one in edits is enough!). Tentative title: "From a World More Full of Weeping". I like it, but I'm afraid it might be too wordy. Stealing from Yeats for titles again, this time "The Stolen Child".
Thursday, June 26, 2003
Write Club again, finally
I went back to Write Club last night for the first time in, well, months. Last week doesn't really count, cause that was mostly me and Julie chatting and goofing off. ;) Managed another 400 words or so on the untitled story. Max is now Alex, or, as I discovered a little bit ago, Lady Mirelle Alexandria Xavier ni Malcolm--which she doesn't accept. She's met a new ally, apparently, but she doesn't trust him. I wouldn't either, but then, I know who he is. Showed what I had so far to Mer and Julie. Mer says the new character is sexy and the story/novel/whatever the hell this is should be a romance. Julie just thinks it's probably a novella. I think she's right. And I think Mer's right about Weylin being sexy, but hey. The plot is growing slowly. It's all feeling a bit derivative of Laurell K. Hamilton, but I don't care right now. It feels too good to be writing. Because I haven't done it in ages, here's a snippet of what I wrote last night: "What happened?" Alex asked quietly. "Threw me out," Weylin muttered gruffly. "Familiar story around the Uasal Court these days. Disagree with His Highness too loudly or too often, and out you go. Why do you think he's rounding up the half-breeds? From the stories I've heard, the Court's getting awfully empty." "The goblin who attacked me said the Prince didn't care if I was alive or dead. That doesn’t sound like someone who's looking to repopulate." Weylin laughed. It wasn't a friendly sound. "Goblins have been known to be a little overzealous, Alex. You know that." "You're saying the goblin was lying?" "Oh no," Weylin replied. "I'm sure he would've killed you if he'd gotten a chance. Eaten as much of your flesh as his belly could hold and then carried your corpse to the Prince." "Thanks for the reassurance," Alex said dryly. "Hey, you asked. And when he got you there, the Prince would've executed his ass for failing to follow orders. Think, Alex. If he's resorted to sending out goblins to round up half-breeds, he's stretched thin. Normally he sends only his best for this sort of work. But his best are all tied up elsewhere. So he's sending goblins."
Friday, June 06, 2003
Progress!
I started a new story today. Hallelujah! This morning, hyped on caffeine and sleep deprivation, I was listening to "Killing in the Name Of", by Rage Against the Machine and just got in a sudden, violent, angry mindset--not that I was angry or violent, but that there was this force inside my head that was--so I started writing, and out popped Max. Reconsidering her name because of the whole Dark Angel thing, but for now, she's Max. In two and a half pages, I finished the opening scene and learned that whoever Max is, she's got a pretty powerful enemy--and that she can kick goblin ass. I've never written combat before. I think it worked pretty well. And besides, it's a great way to start a story! So very very glad to be writing again. I don't have the words.
Tuesday, June 03, 2003
Wow...
One of the best thing's anyone's said to me during this long dark teatime of the soul that I've been going through came from Mer yesterday, who said she missed reading my new stuff. (Because there hasn't been a single word in months.) It helped. I'm pondering. Gearing up. We'll see.
Wednesday, April 02, 2003
Wednesday, February 12, 2003
Gah!
Midterm season. I fully expect things here to be quiet until the end of February. :P (Of course, every time I say that, I start writing like mad.)
Sunday, February 09, 2003
Grar!
I just got a very frustrating rejection. The editor was really complimentary about my writing and said it held her attention, but was "shocked" by the ending, so she couldn't accept it. That was the point. It was supposed to be shocking and maybe a little thought provoking about the ways our society mirrors the one in the story. Maybe I'm a little off with it, I don't know. Grar.
Tuesday, February 04, 2003
Woot
Another round of stories sent out: "Midsummer" to Fortean Bureau for a theme issue, "An Eye for an Eye" to Ideomancer. Still looking for a good market for "Girl Behind the Counter". I chopped down "Midsummer" pretty substantially, from 6,000 words to 4,500. I think that made a big improvement, but I'm not sure.
Monday, February 03, 2003
Good rejection
"The Girl Behind the Counter" came back from Fantasy & Science Fiction, with a rejection letter that made me laugh out loud. Easily the best rejection note I've ever gotten. I'll quote a bit from the story first, for context: My only thread of hope was a handwritten note on the form letter from Evergreen Quarterly, a tiny magazine out in Washington State: "Good luck, Wiliam!" Misspelling and all, I kept that note tacked above my computer. On the days when the words wouldn't come and the characters wouldn't move, it reminded me that somewhere out there, a real person was wishing me well, even if they couldn't get my name right. The rejection I got, while not precisely a form letter, had, handwritten at the bottom of the letter: "Good luck, Lissa!" Who says editors don't have a sense of humor?
Saturday, February 01, 2003
Response
"An Eye for an Eye" came back today with an amazing two day response time from Flesh & Blood. The editor was very complimentary and had some useful comments, but felt the story didn't fit his magazine. Off again, I need to decide on a second market for it.
Thursday, January 30, 2003
Whoa!
Get me, I'm a crazy submitting fool! "An Eye for an Eye" just went out to Flesh & Blood, bringing my total of stories in circulation up to three--a new personal record. Now I have very little excuse to keep from working on Sword in the Mound.
Wednesday, January 29, 2003
Revision and resolution
After reading through (and making Mer read through) "An Eye for An Eye" last night at Write Club, I did a quick revision, and am pretty satisfied with the story. Heh. Mer was a little surprised at how dark it is. I'm going to pick out a market for it today, and try to get it sent out tomorrow. Whoa. Three stories out circulating. That's a record for me! I decided to give "Midsummer" to the Minions this month, in hopes that they can help me figure out what's wrong with it--or that they'll tell me, "Quit obsessing. Submit it again." Also got a few hundred words done on Sword. I kind of feel like I've been cleaning my desk of these stories that have been hanging around unresolved so I can go back to focusing completely on the novel. Well, "completely", as in outside of school and work.
Monday, January 27, 2003
It's off!
"The Girl Behind the Counter" is winging its way off to Fantasy and Science Fiction as we speak. Well, okay. It's actually sitting in the mailbox outside my apartment, but still. You get the idea. Thinking about unshelving "Midsummer", as well. I don't think it needs as much work as I originally envisioned.
Sunday, January 26, 2003
At last!
I think, after spending the last four hours working on rewriting, that I finally have a submittable draft of "The Girl Behind the Counter". I'm going to print it and look it over in the morning, but I think it's as good as it's going to get for now. The plan is to get it off in the mail bright and early Monday morning. Might as well get Fantasy & Science Fiction out of the way first, add another Adams rejection letter to the pile. ;)
Wednesday, January 22, 2003
Finished!
Despite what I said last time, I actually wrote an ending for "An Eye for an Eye". I'm not sure how I feel about the story as a whole. It's honestly the bleakest thing I've ever written, and the first piece to feature death and gore pretty prominently. I know what I wanted it to do, but I'm not sure I succeeded. Ah well, I'll give it to the Minions to decide. Whenever we meet again, that is. Well, didn't do so well with writing 5 hours last week, but I'm using the fact that I was sick as an excuse. Three hours so far this week though, including a productive hour (or more) at Write Club last night. My lit class has got me thinking a lot about the writing process (or my writing process at least), as compared to writing in the 19th century. I may post more later, but I think I'm losing out by being born in this century. (Oh yeah, there's a new section to the left, "Shelved", for stuff that I'm putting aside for now, for various reasons. Well, usually just one reason: it's driven me to distraction.)
Friday, January 10, 2003
Not bad, not bad
I'm not doing so bad so far. I've written three hours this week, although most of that has been catching up on where I am with various works, and trying to pick up the threads again. Tonight at Write Club I tried to see if I could come up with an ending for "An Eye for an Eye". I had very little luck, but I realized that the whole story could well be the beginning of a subplot for False Light, which I haven't actually started writing yet. So instead, I tried to dive back into The Sword in the Mound. I did surprisingly well, managing about 500 words tonight. The ending is starting to trouble me. I thought I had it all figured out, a standard romance novel happy ending, but the more I think about it, the less I can justify that given my main characters. It would be inconsistent for either of them to give up their lives and responsibilities for the sake of the other, and there's really no way for them to be together otherwise. Plus, I have to admit, the budding young feminist in me is having serious issues with setting up this intelligent, independent woman, only to have her give it all up and go live in someone else's kingdom for the sake of love. Just doesn't quite fit. So, I might end up going with a more bittersweet or even possibly a terribly sad ending. I just don't know if things are going to end well for poor Catriona and Tiernan...
Wednesday, January 01, 2003
2002 in review
See, this is the good thing about keeping up with my word count and such. All in all, this was a pretty remarkable year for me writing-wise. Let's recap: -Wrote a total of 82,567 words. Just think, if that'd all been on one work, I'd have a pretty sizable novel right now. -Finished the first draft of my first novel, and started editing it. -Wrote (finished, even!) four short stories, and managed to sell one. My first one! -Started world-building on the second novel -Started writing a third. I guess my biggest goal for this year is to write more often. Five hours a week sounds like a reasonable goal, no? We'll give that a try. As far as what I want to work on? I think The Host is on hold for a bit. I got way too frustrated with it this past fall. I'd like to finish the first draft of The Sword and the Mound. That's my biggie. Everything else is open. Five hours a week. I know I can do at least that.
Thursday, December 26, 2002
Confession
Okay. The 'non-titled non-SF story' that spent most of December on my to-do list was actually a Christmas present for my mom. I finished it on the 21st, did some edits on the 23rd and printed it off on some pretty Christmas paper on the 24th. I was pretty pleased at how it turned out. It was largely a non-genre Christmas story: poor single mom, trying to find a way to give her daughter a Christmas. The only slightly genre twist to it was the "Christmas miracle" at the end. :) Normally at our house we open presents Christmas morning (this was not the case when I was a kid), but I knew my mom wouldn't have much reading time on Christmas morning, so I had her open it Christmas Eve. She read it and cried, and told me it was the best Christmas present I'd ever gotten her. Can't help feeling warm and fuzzy about that. (But how am I going to top myself NEXT year?!) So, "Not too Much to Ask" is on my finished list of stories, but won't show up here, as it's neither in circulation or technically 'published'. Hm... maybe I should set up a section for 'self-published'... ;)
Thursday, December 12, 2002
Sad but true
December is turning out to be the month of No Writing, so far. I've got high hopes for my break between semesters--we'll see. Right now I'm just holding on until finals and projects are finished, six more days.
Thursday, November 28, 2002
Good news and er, good news
Well, Thanksgiving or not, I wrote nearly 1700 words today. That's the good news. However, only a couple hundred of those words were on The Sword in the Mound. What were the other 1400 words? Um (she says sheepishly), a new story? It sorta jumped into my head full born this morning while I was driving over to my parents' for dinner. So I came home from Thanksgiving dinner, outlined the entire story from beginning to end, then started writing. Five pages, boom. I was all set to write more, but I "took a break" and got sucked into the Buffy marathon on FX. Now it's about time to go to bed. (Prediction? I'm thinking I may finish this story--as yet untitled--by the end of the weekend. If I keep up at this rate, at least.)
Wednesday, November 27, 2002
Forward momentum
Aha, I finally cracked that blasted 25,000 word ceiling. We had an abbreviated and relaxed Write Club Minus One tonight--Julie and I explored the new Barnes and Noble, not realizing they were closing at 9 for the holiday. Good thing: they have a study section with huge tables and power outlets under each table. Bad thing: there aren't many tables, and you gotta be kinda quiet over there. Write Club is generally not so good at quiet. But their cafe is a Starbucks, so that's all kinds of good too. My word count for today looks pitiful--700 words--unless you factor in the pages and pages of handwritten outline I've got now. I have a detailed outline for the next several sections (they may be chapters, we'll see), and a sketchy outline of the entire rest of the novel. Go me! I think this is really going to help me write this. My biggest problem has been having to stop after each scene and go "Duhh... where to now?" It seems that now that the NaNoWriMo pressure is off my shoulders, I'm eager to start writing on this again.
See towel. See towel get tossed.
Okay, it's 4:15 on the afternoon of November 27th, and I'm still lurking just beneath 25,000 words. It's a safe bet that I'm not going to make 50,000 words by Saturday. I just had too much else going on this month in order to achieve the same sort of focus I managed last year. Yet fear not, Gentle Readers: this is not the end of The Sword in the Mound. My plans for this weekend still involve some pretty intensive writing--just cause I'm not hitting 50,000 doesn't mean I can't get as close as I can! I'm sitting here working on an outline as we speak, as a matter of fact. That was another major stumbling block this year. Sword is, in many respects, way more plot heavy than The Host is. Not that The Host doesn't have a plot, mind, but Sword is requiring far more dense plotting. This is a new thing to me. I have a hunch that once I get a plot outline, I'll be able to start really sailing along. I'm still clinging to the goal of having a working first draft by the start of winter semester at school, which is January 6th. In other news, I'm back to working at the desk instead of the couch. If the cats would just leave me alone, I'd be golden. ;)
Monday, November 25, 2002
On another note:
I am beginning to suspect the real trick to finishing a novel is to write every day. Writing every day gets you into the world, into the characters, and things start to blossom. I've been told by many people that the last third or so of The Host is much weaker than the stuff I wrote during NaNoWriMo last year. And writing The Sword in the Mound has been so hard precisely because I haven't written every day. When I do sit down to write, I have to re-establish where I am and who I'm writing about, instead of living with them in the forefront of my mind. They don't have as much room and time to grow on their own when I only give them a few hours a few times a week. I'm starting to feel frustrated with all of the other things going on in my life that help keep me from writing. Specifically school. Good thing the semester's almost over.
Need more caffeinated crack...
Well, okay. The words I wrote on Saturday morning were the only words I wrote all weekend. This does not bode well. I am beginning to suspect that I will not make my 50,000 words by Saturday. I want to make an attempt though, and at least spend some serious time Wednesday through Saturday writing. And I still want to have the first draft finished by the start of winter term in January. My biggest problem is that I have never established a writing routine in this house. At my mom's, I could sit myself in front of my computer and write for hours. I had a routine, I had a ritual, I had a mental and physical space. I've never really established my space here, which is weird, since it's MY HOUSE! I think I need to clean off my spiffy desk and set myself up over there to write my ass off. I need my ritual back, because camping on the couch with the laptop ain't it, and I can't afford to go to Starbucks every time I want to write.
Saturday, November 23, 2002
I am on fire (or at least my wrists are)
Woot! Over 4,000 words this morning at Starbucks (see? they have the special caffeinated crack there that makes me write fast). I'm shooting for a total of 10,000 new words this weekend. We'll see if I manage it. I'm almost to the half-way point with a week left to go. Most of the words I wrote this morning were answering world building questions, which are so exhaustive I needed actually less than half of them, but they served their purpose admirably. I have a new spin on what my faerie culture is like (which I'll bring out more in the second draft, although I'll start to introduce it more from here on out, since it's definitely going to have some plot impact), and I finally narrowed down what time period this thing takes place in, which is good in all sorts of ways. The whole "timelessness" thing just wasn't working out well at all. Of course, this means I'll have to actually start paying attention to historical detail, too. Second draft. Second draft. I can still do this, I think. 25,000 words in 8 days. That's slightly more than 3,000 words a day. And six of those days see me with very few other commitments to see to. I can do this.
Friday, November 22, 2002
Progress again!
Well, I had some good luck at the local NaNo meeting tonight, and started writing a scene by hand. I finished it up and found I had about another 1,000 words. Not much, but it's a start. I'm 15,000 words behind. However, if I can keep the gap to about that, I might be able to catch up Thanksgiving weekend. I'm hopeful. Marginally. I'm just glad to be writing again.
Tuesday, November 19, 2002
No progress
Okay, here's the scoop. I haven't written a darn word since Friday night. I'm 12,000 words behind. And brain dead. Hopefully I can get some writing in tomorrow at Write Club, and from there, who knows? I haven't thrown the NaNoWriMo towel in yet, but I've just been SO brain dead, between the new job and school. I think I could've handled everything fine, if the job wasn't so new that it sucks out all my brain energy. I've got this weekend, and Thanksgiving weekend, so we'll see what happens. Even if I don't make 50,000 by November 30th, I'm sticking by my goal of finishing the first draft of this novel by the start of winter semester, January 6th.
Wednesday, November 13, 2002
Finally, progress!
Decent night at Write Club tonight, aside from numerous encounters with scary men. Now I'm only about two days behind. I've promised myself that if I catch up completely this weekend, then I'll buy myself the extended version of LOTR on Sunday. Otherwise I won't have time to watch it! The plot is progressing nicely. Most (all? Dare I say it?) of the main characters have been introduced, the beginnings of the plot are in place, and it's time to rock and roll. However, I can already tell, at almost halfway to 50,000 words, this is NOT going to be finished in so short a time. Anyway, here's a brief bit from tonight: Dubric (Tiernan's second in command) is escorting Catriona home. "I was quite worried about my sister," Catriona chose her words with pointed care. Dubric remained unabashed. "As well you should have been," he agreed. "If my sister had been snatched by a rowdy group of strange men, I'd be worried as well." He paused, giving her a chance to respond. When she did not, he grinned and continued, "A good thing for her it was just Tiernan." "A good thing!" Catriona rose to the bait, her eyes flashing with anger. "Yes, Heaven forbid it couldn't be something a little more innocent, like a rabid wolf or a ravening wildcat! Instead of being devoured she is imprisoned by a man who merely looks at her as if he wished to devour her." "Have a care, my lady, you speak of my liege lord." Dubric's words did not match the slightly amused tone of his voice. "Believe me when I tell you, his only interest in the Lady Michaela lies in her potential as a wife for one of his men." "Leave her alone," Catriona begged. "Michaela is a good, virtuous girl, and she has long been very happy with her betrothed. I beg you, do not turn her head from that path. Your land may please her for a short time, but she is human, and belongs with her own kind." "She is a good girl," he agreed. "I can only swear this to you, Lady Catriona: I will never hurt your sister, and I will always respect her wishes." In other news, "Midsummer" received some very favorable comments from one of my classmates at school. It was a perfectly timed ego boost after the rejection letter yesterday. However, the "bad" news is, after talking to Brand a bit, I think I see how to fix the problems I see in it, and it involves a complete rewrite from scratch, and possibly a shift in point of view. After November. Definitely not this month.
Tuesday, November 12, 2002
Second week slump
Feh. Well, I managed about 140 words tonight, in between staring blankly at the screen and thinking I should do homework and websurfing. As of tomorrow, I'm officially three days behind schedule. Hopefully I can do lots of writing at Write Club tomorrow night and then catch up the rest this weekend. I think work today just drained my brain. Yeah, that sounds like a good excuse.
Rejection for "Midsummer"
Got a rejection slip from Realms of Fantasy on "Midsummer" today. It's affecting me more than rejection slips usually do. I think it's because I love this story so damn much, it irks me that these people can't see how awesome it is. I've got a couple places where I might send it next, but I've got two people reading it right now, and I think I'll wait to see what they say. I don't know. I adore the story, but it's not perfect yet. It doesn't quite match the vision of it I have in my head. I wonder if I'm almost too close to it to edit it at all. I've had a lot of really positive comments about The Sword in the Mound so far (of course, I've asked people not to give me negative comments, which may explain the lack there). Oddly, as weird as I felt about writing for an "audience" as I went, it's exciting. I like hearing that people have been reading along, especially when they clamor for more. :) So I guess I should go write more for them to read, huh?
Monday, November 11, 2002
Dragging...
So, so tired tonight. I managed to write another 800 words or so, which means I'm now about 1800 words behind schedule. That's not horrid. There won't be much writing tomorrow, except maybe on my lunch hour, as I have a test to study for. Wednesday, maybe. This weekend, certainly. Of course, I may do just as I did last year and not catch up completely until Thanksgiving weekend. However, as the 30th falls in the middle of Thanksgiving weekend this year, that doesn't leave me a lot of maneuvering room. I tired. I go bed now.
Sunday, November 10, 2002
Wanna see all the funny from the retreat this weekend? Go here. Maybe the quotes aren't as funny out of context, but good god, we're some funny people.
Wow. The writer's retreat for the Minions was an absolute success. Not only was it a tremendously fun time, but much writing and talking about writing was done by all. Not to even mention the vast quantities of snacks that were consumed. Anyway, here's an excerpt from this weekend: Tiernan stepped down from his throne and came to Catriona's side once again, resting a hand on her elbow and guiding her to one of the fallen logs. She found herself acutely aware of the warmth that radiated from his body, and of the clean, masculine scent of his skin and hair. Once she was seated, he sat next to her. "Now, as to the Lady Michaela: It is true; she was brought here with us yesterday evening." "And you had not the courtesy to mention that when first we spoke?" Catriona cried, partly in relief and partly in worry. "Had I revealed the girl to you then, your men would have felt compelled to fight for her, and I would have been forced to kill them all. Injuring the boy was bad enough." The absolute arrogance in his words made Catriona's fists clench. She fought to swallow her anger, instead saying, "May I see her, please?" "We have not harmed her, quite on the contrary," Tiernan said, reaching out to give her arm a comforting squeeze, a touch that was anything but comforting, sending tingling alarms up Catriona's already frayed nerves. She gently withdrew her arm. Tiernan continued unfazed, "In fact, you may be quite pleased. Dubric," he motioned to the dark-haired man, who stepped forward. To Catriona, "This is Dubric, my second-in-command. He is a good man, and true. With the events of last night, he has begun his formal courtship of your lovely sister." Catriona was thunderstruck. The man before her bore little resemblance to the man at her side. Dubric had an unassuming air, a near-meekness that one did not often find among the members of any nobility, human or fae. "B-But... she is already betrothed! The boy you unhorsed has been her intended since they were children, and they are very much in love." Tiernan shook his head sadly. "Dubric is in need of a bride, and he wishes to bestow that honor upon a mortal woman, your sister." "And if she does not wish the honor?" Catriona asked, fearing the answer. "Then we will have to find another to take her place," Tiernan answered. He sought her eyes with his own, green reflecting against gray. "However, it may be her decision to accept. You will find that my people can be quite... persuasive." Catriona's mind whirled, caught in the trap set for her within the clear drowning color of his eyes. Some small part of her mind whispered that this must be faerie glamour. "Stop it," she said weakly. Tiernan laughed, the sound soft enough to reach only her ears, an intimate caressing sound. "Stop what?" "Stop trying to bewitch me," she whispered. "I've heard how you can cloud minds." He leaned closer, until those eyes nearly filled her vision. "I use no magic, Catriona, none save that which is natural between a maid and a man." "We were discussing my sister," she protested, conscious of the weight of his hair swaying against her shoulder. "We were," he agreed, his eyes flickering over her face, lingering on her lips. "But I find you so much more interesting." "I'm not--" interesting, Catriona began to mumble, but Tiernan closed the gap between them, slipping a powerful arm around her waist to nestle her closer against him. He lowered his lips to hers, but this time it was no chaste peck surrounded by the safety of her men. His mouth was gentle but insistent, his lips caressing hers, urging them to part for him. Without thinking, seared by the wild heat flowing through her, she complied, growing faint when she felt the tip of his tongue tease against her lower lip. Dizzy, shocked by her own boldness, she leaned closer against him, beyond all reason except a desire to stand in the center of his heat. Catriona had forgotten where they were, until Dubric cleared his throat. "Tiernan, I hate to interrupt, but the lady's sister is nearing the glade." Suddenly horrified at her own actions, Catriona pushed Tiernan away, her cheeks scarlet. How could she have done such a thing? No well-bred lady would have given such a display outside her lord's bedchamber, and no unmarried lady would have given such a display at all. She stood up, straightening her gown indignantly and resisting the urge to slap the faerie lord across his well-sculpted cheek. He chuckled, rising to his own feet. "You needn't be so angry at Dubric's intrusion, Catriona. We can continue whenever you'd like." I love Tiernan. He's a stinker.
Friday, November 08, 2002
*yawn*
Up too late again. I barely managed to crack 10,011 words. Still a day behind schedule, but hopefully I'll make that up this weekend at the first ever Minions' Writers Retreat. If I weren't so darn tired, I'd tell you all about how I have two full pages of plot notes now too. I think I see the path in front of me now...
Thursday, November 07, 2002
Whoa
I'm up way way too late, but as you can see, I've been a busy little girl. Almost made it to 10,000 (which would catch me up to my quota) before my brain gave out. Our hero now has a name (well, he had one before, y'all just didn't know it), and the beginnings of a personality beyond Scary Primal Makes Women Weak in the Knees Man. A glimpse of that: With no true king to protect it, his land had suffered, and her people along with it. They faded, some leaving for friendlier homes, some vanishing like smoke, never seen again. The lands beyond the glade were fading as well, creeping slowly beyond the borders of his country and vanishing forever. He felt the loss keenly, grieving for his dying home. His grief gave the Hunt an extra urgency, made him more likely than ever to toy with the men who lived there, to bring fear if he could not inspire worship. Tiernan sat down near the bonfire, staring into the dying flames. The Hunt that evening had been as successful as it ever was. He thought Dubric would be happy enough with the girl, if he could win her affections. Fitting, since Dubric was the first to suggest finding human brides to replace the fae women who were lost. The girl was pretty enough, but too delicate to suit Tiernan's tastes. With a mixture of irritation and admiration, he thought back to the woman on the road who had claimed to be the girl's sister. Her beauty was a more mature one than her sister's, and for a moment he let his thoughts linger on the rich curves hinted at beneath her cloak and gown, the rich coils of warm brown hair. She'd had a fire to her that her sister, so far, seemed to lack. Tiernan smiled wryly, remembering how she'd dared claim part of his domain for her own. There would be no human bride for him, however. Just as the land needed a king, a king needed a queen, and such would only come from within his borders.
Wednesday, November 06, 2002
Elitism rears its ugly head
So, I'm writing merrily along (but not Merrie-ly along), enjoying myself immensely--then today at school I had not one but two people ask me about this whole NaNoWriMo thing. I'd emailed about it to the class email list, and today one of my classmates and my professor, of all people, asked me about it. I suddenly found myself immensely ashamed of what I'm writing. I found myself saying things like, "Oh, I usually write fairly literary fantasy and sci-fi, but I'm just writing this silly stuff right now..." How hypocritical is that? For all my bitching about how fantasy and sci-fi get stuck in Ursula K. LeGuin's "genre ghetto" (she had an awesome essay about this on her website, but it seems to be gone now, darn it), here I am doing the exact same thing. Well, this isn't my real writing, of course... Feh. As irritated as I am by the fact, the little elitist voice in the back of my head keeps whispering that writing this novel is somehow "beneath" me or my talents. Stop it, little voice! No value judgments, damn it! I'm heavily caffeinated right now. I think I'm going to go write my words and to hell with the genre they're in. Excerpt probably to come later.
Tuesday, November 05, 2002
Chapter One, finished!
I finished chapter one, managing about another two thousand words. I'm incredibly hyper, what a fun, FUN section to write! My hero finally made his first appearance. But what an appearance it is! Forgive the extra long excerpt, but I'm pleased with this scene. Almost posted the whole thing. :) Her first impression was that the horses were nearly twice the size of poor Alais. Her next was that none of the horses wore the slightest sign of harness or saddle, save light blankets that lay between horse and rider. As for the riders themselves, for several moments Catriona felt that she could not see them at all, blinded by the brilliance that flared, streaming from the figures on the enormous horses' backs, illuminating the immediate area and seeming to cast the surrounding forest in even darker shadow. While she and her men were blinded, a voice spoke from the light. The voice reminded her of a time she'd stolen a sip of her father's whiskey. It had a harsh bite to it, but left her feeling warm deep in the core of her being, a burning that made her feel lightheaded. "Well now. A gift for us? She's almost too fine. We've little of equal value to exchange in return." As he spoke, Catriona eyes adjusted so that she could see him. He was bare-chested despite the early spring chill in the air, and he had easily the broadest shoulders she'd ever seen. What drew her eyes though, and kept them focused on the man's chest and arms until she felt her cheeks flaming, were the endlessly swirling dark blue lines that wound around his powerful arms and across his chest. For a mad moment she wondered what it would be like to trace those lines with her fingertips, wondered if the browned skin was as weather-beaten as it looked, or if it would be smooth to touch. That last thought was enough to snap her back to the present. Still flushing, she raised her eyes to the man's. The upper half of his face was covered over with a bone mask, but from beneath it blazed eyes like green fire, eyes that promised they knew her deepest secrets, and had every intention of using them against her. From beneath the mask flowed hair the russet color of autumn leaves, a deep auburn mass that fell past the man's shoulders. Finally, from the top of the mask there rose a proud set of antlers, so large Catriona realized they would be too heavy for an ordinary man to bear standing or sitting upright. Thomas, she realized, had been absolutely right. Whatever this man was, he surely wasn't human. He smiled at her then as if he'd heard her thoughts, with even white teeth that looked just a touch too sharp, too predatory. For a moment, Catriona's body went so weak she feared she would tumble from Alais's saddle.
Monday, November 04, 2002
Alas...
The only writing I did today was 1,500 words on my English paper. I could probably do some writing right now, but I think I'm ready to go to bed. Starting the new job tomorrow so I need my beauty sleep. Maybe I can write on my lunch hour? Maybe I'll go write a paragraph or two, just to make myself feel better... Yeah. Forty words. Good enough. Night!
Oh yeah...
Almost forgot a status report for the 3rd. Still over my quota, by a couple of words. Tomorrow, though, I can guarantee I'm going to get behind tomorrow. Work in the morning, class in the afternoon, class at night, and between my two class sessions, I really need to finish the paper I didn't finish tonight. :P I may stay up a bit longer and work on it some more, but I'm sneezing so badly, maybe not. Anyway, here's an excerpt. I like it. It made me grin. (Warning: high cheese factor ahead.) Catriona spoke without thinking. "When I was fifteen years old, I spent my nights dreaming of a time when I would hear you speak those words." "You were a lovely girl then. Had not my father insisted on Anne and her dowry…" She could bear no more. Catriona stood up. "You compared me to a bony cow!" "Madam?" Alan looked confused, retreating behind the safety of formality. "I heard you," Catriona said. "You were speaking of me to a group of young men and you said I was as bony as a winter-starved cow." He had, at least, the good grace to flush, rising to stand at her side. "I beg your forgiveness, my love. I was young and foolish, and those words were never meant to reach your ears." She felt more than saw his eyes move down her body, making her cheeks go hot. "I would certainly never make such a comparison now." "Meant to reach them or no, reach them they did, and I have never forgotten. I may have been young and foolish as well, but that is certainly no reason to be old and foolish now." "Catriona, please. I beg you, do not hold the sins of my youth against me. At least give me a chance to redeem myself in your eyes." Before she could speak, Alan reached out and wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her tight against the long line of his body and lowering his mouth to hers. Aside from stolen, innocent kisses as a child, it was the first time a man had dared such a thing. Catriona felt as if she had been struck by lightning. His lips were gentle against hers, soft and teasing, as if he were daring her to be bolder. It was a practiced kiss, one that made the pit of her stomach tighten and the back of her neck tingle. The flush that heated her cheeks began to creep down her neck, threatening to engulf her entire body. Her thoughts beat against one another like frightened, caged birds and her arms remained loose and at her sides, boneless. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he moved away, a small, satisfied smile curving his mouth. Only then did her arms find their strength, and she did the first thing that came to mind. The sound of her hand smacking across his cheek was like a pistol shot in the enclosed room. "Get out."
Sunday, November 03, 2002
I need help
I think I finally crossed the line. One of my cats woke me up this morning at 6:30, and I started to get mad at her, then thought (while three-quarters asleep), "Poor thing. She's probably just stressed because she didn't get her word count in yesterday." Talk about projection--even if I did get my word count in yesterday.
Saturday, November 02, 2002
Not a bad day, considering I spent most of the afternoon working on a paper. Taking the rest of the night off, maybe to read some of my OTHER homework, feh. Here's an excerpt from yesterday and today. All the references to Alan are new today, since he just showed up. The rest of the scene was written yesterday. Catriona curtseyed mechanically, and fled past any other would-be partners, stepping into the gallery for a bit of clearer air. Chilly night air called to her from a nearby window and she went to it, letting the breeze cool her burning cheeks and lift away the candle smoke that seemed to hang about her like a pall. Perhaps she did not need to remain a spinster after all. There seemed little doubt that Alan planned to broach the topic of marriage with her tomorrow; she doubted he'd flirt so much if he were only seeking occasional grazing rights for his sheep. Leaning out the open window, Catriona tried to decide how she felt about marrying a man who was not only handsome, but from a family much older and more prominent than her own. For all of the stories of drunken brawling after the death of his first wife, Anne, he seemed to live quite respectably, and yet… Catriona frowned to herself, unable to label the reason for her unease. As she stood there musing, she heard a series of sharp cries from the woods at the edge of her lands. Despite the darkness, they sounded like nothing so much as a huntsman's cry, urging on his pack of hounds. The howl that answered the cries raised the hair on her arms, for it was a sound unlike any she had ever heard before. Once the howls died away, she heard a pulsing, pounding sound; at first she thought it might be her own heartbeat, but it was too distant, too distinct from herself. The drumbeat was too wild to come from within her walls, and it frightened her even as it called her feet to dance.
Ding-dong, asshole calling...
Well, I had a new character show up on my doorstep today. He's a gorgeous, charming widower, and he wants to marry Catriona. I think he's the villain. Alas, he needed to be introduced in a scene that I sort of summarized rather than wrote out, so today has been a process of going back and filling holes in that particular scene with Mr. Handsome. That's over with now, so I'm hoping to go on from there starting right now. You know, the last time I had a character show up unannounced like this, she damn near took over the entire book (Sara Osborne, I'm looking in your direction).
Day one recap
Not bad. Not bad at all. There was a small gathering of Ann Arbor NaNo-ites, but I forgot my second laptop battery, so I didn't get as much writing done as I would've liked. Still, ahead of the game. This is a good thing, because I have a paper to write this weekend. Still, I figure I wrote 8 pages in the last 24 hours, so five maybe won't take me so long. Spent a lot of time at Borders tonight reading about how to properly address English nobility. That turned out to be quite useful. So far the setting for the novel is vaguely English and vaguely medieval, although an argument could also be made for the Victorian era as well. My theory is that I'm writing so quickly right now because I'm in a hurry to get to the good parts. ;)
Friday, November 01, 2002
It's a start!
912 words, and I should really head off to bed. Before I go, however, I'll leave you with a small sample: Chaela sat meekly, smiling into her reflection in the glass while Enid put the last pins in place, creating smooth loops of gold that fell around the girl's delicate features. Catriona looked on with her smile tinged with wistfulness. Chaela was the picture of delicate beauty sung in the praises of all the troubadours who passed their way: fair skin so pale it nearly showed blue, fine golden hair that behaved in perfect curls, eyes of deepest violet. It was impossible for Catriona to look at their two reflections in the mirror and not find herself lacking. Where Chaela had seen seventeen summers, and was at the peak of her charm, Catriona felt every one of her twenty-two years, and bore the name 'spinster' with as much grace as she could manage. But even in her prime, she realized, she would never have competed with her younger sister. Looking in the mirror, Catriona thought her golden brown hair too dark and dim, her gray eyes too nondescript to attract notice. It was easy to lay the blame for her unmarried state on the untimely death of their father three years earlier, leaving her to manage the estate and care for Chaela, but when she looked at her sister, she felt the real truth of the matter lay in the mirror before them.
Thursday, October 31, 2002
In, damn it. in
Okay, I cave. The title of my NaNo novel is The Sword in the Mound. Why did I cave, you ask? Was the blatant sexual imagery too funny to ignore? Was it peer pressure? Maybe a little bit of yes to both, but mostly because the plot points that I have now revolve around an actual sword in an actual faerie mound, so there. It's no longer just blatant innuendo, it's now a double meaning. ;)
Gah!
I should be asleep. However, I can't sleep, because my muse decided to go into overdrive RIGHT NOW. My little idea journal is sitting next to me, covered with over a page of plot ideas for the novel. Yes, I now have a semblance of cheesy plot to go with the cheesy romance. I shall serve this novel with plenty of wine. Although actually, I think it'll come with plenty of whine on its own. God, I'm tired. Who needs a muse that's apparently all coked up?
Wednesday, October 30, 2002
24
Twenty four hours from now, I'll be sitting here with Word open, ready to start my epic, thrilling, gloriously cheesy fantasy-romance novel, The Sword and the Mound (or The Sword in the Mound, depending on who you ask or how smutty this thing gets). I learned a lot from NaNoWriMo last year. I expect this year to be every bit as exciting. This year, however, instead of posting excerpts here (which I may do as well, not sure yet), I'm posting the WHOLE DAMN THING online as I go.* As I'm clinging to the notion that I might actually write something publishable in November, it'll be up on a password protected site, here. If you'd like to follow my scary progress, email me or comment here and I'll send you the password. *I fully reserve the right to stop posting the whole thing, if the worry about y'all reading it makes me not want to write. ;)
Friday, October 25, 2002
My first reading
Today I gave my first 'public' reading. As part of my Philosophy of Art class, we had what my professor calls "Art Day". In other words, we all had a chance to bring in our art. I read a couple of excerpts from "Midsummer". All in all, it was a pretty amazing experience. It was definitely well-received, I'd say. After class, one of my classmates came up and was very complimentary, both of the story and my comments on it. I ended up getting his email address so I could send him the entire story. The best part though, was looking up while I was reading, and seeing all these eyes fixed on me, alive with interest, really into the little bit of story I gave them. The only real drawback to being an author is you usually miss that instant reaction to your work. Interestingly, getting those segments ready to read aloud resulted in some neat revisions. Maybe I should read the rest of it aloud somewhere, see how much it improves. Also, the description of the story I gave the class actually brought out some themes and ideas I hadn't really thought about being there. All in all, a really satisfying experience.
Thursday, October 24, 2002
Don't faint...
Did over a thousand words on "An Eye for an Eye" tonight. I could almost finish the first draft tonight, but I felt too impatient to finish it. Trying to finish it now would give me one of my usual rushed, deflated endings. And to be honest, I'm not quite sure HOW to end it. A really dark ending, a la Shirley Jackson's "The Lottery" is suggesting itself, but I'm not sure that's the right one. Oddly enough, I already know where this one's going to go first when it's ready: Strange Horizons. It's an odd feeling to feel like you're writing for a specific market, almost.
Black Gate, here I come!
I broke down and shipped off "Computer Dating" to Black Gate. I'm not certain I like the story at this point, and I'm not certain it's the sort of thing they want, but I dunno. What I've read in the magazine doesn't seem to match what their submission guidelines say, so I'm going with what's actually in the magazine. ;) They've got a long response time, so it's going to be a while before I hear from them. Oh, and I'm reading an excerpt from "Midsummer" aloud to my Philosophy of Art class tomorrow. Several class members are bringing in examples of their own art, and apparently my writing counts. Woo. I'm a little nervous. I've never read my stuff out loud in front of people before.
Wednesday, October 23, 2002
Progress!
Hooray! I actually WROTE NEW STUFF at Write Club tonight! I started working on "An Eye for an Eye" in earnest. I think it's going to be a fairly short story, so my goal right now is to finish it before NaNoWriMo kicks off. I did some planning for that this evening too, mostly just naming characters and the like. It's great to have a story I'm excited about it again!
Tuesday, October 22, 2002
Frustration
I'm incredibly frustrated at my lack of writing energy lately. I know it's largely because of school--apparently writing takes up the same parts of my brain as school does. I half-wonder if I'd be having this same problem if I were majoring in something other than literature. Part of the problem is also this incredible sense of malaise and lethargy that's been hanging over me for the past couple weeks. It's not so much depression as it is a constant desire to hibernate. That, I hope, should pass as I get used to the sudden shift to cool weather. So, yeah. Not writing so much. I still haven't sent out "Computer Dating". Feeling too daunted to work on False Light, tired of revising The Host. Tired of revising pretty much everything. I need a new exciting short story idea to perk me up between here and November. Still looking forward to NaNoWriMo, but starting to wonder how I'm going to pull it off this year. Feh.
Thursday, October 10, 2002
Ooh!
Look look look! I made Mer's book blog! It makes me feel all warm and gooshy inside. Thanks, Mer. :) Speaking of which, in case anyone's been away from the 'normal' journal, I've added links there to my book blog as well, in case you wanna see what I'm reading and what I think about it.
At last!
I got something accomplished! "Computer Dating" is revised. I'm going to have a few folks read it for a final check, and then start sending it out. Go me.
Thursday, October 03, 2002
Oy.
So, yeah. I haven't posted in a week, which means I really haven't written in a week. That's partly laziness, but it's also partly craziness. Getting adjusted to school and my teeny little job has been interesting to say the least. Last night at Write Club, I did actually manage to work out some things on the rewrite of "Computer Dating", which is turning into a story I'm fairly pleased with. I'm tempted to finish it up RIGHT NOW instead of doing homework. Maybe I will, damn it. Screw it. I'm in for NaNoWriMo again this year. Cheesy romance novel, here I come!
Wednesday, September 25, 2002
Well... Write Club was therapy club tonight, but it was a good thing. I feel sorta cleansed. I did actually manage to write a little bit.
Oh yeah... writing...
I desperately need Write Club this week. But at the same time, I just want to curl up in a corner and sleep for a week. No writing at all so far this week, mostly because Mondays are a pain in the ass and yesterday ended up being errand day. But I have a job, which I start this morning.
Friday, September 20, 2002
"Computer Dating"
Well, the hatchet came in handy. I chopped about 2,000 words out of "Computer Dating" tonight. I'm not quite done revising it yet, but I think it's a much, MUCH more solid narrative than it was. More action, more punch. To demonstrate what I mean, here's the original opening sentence: Sara knew even before she logged on that he'd be waiting for her. Here's the new opening sentence: Sara thought her new relationship was going very well right up until the FBI came by to question her. I already know this story is going to Black Gate first. I'm hoping to send it out by Monday at the latest, maybe Saturday.
Thursday, September 19, 2002
Progress and panic
Another 1000+ words rewritten on The Host at Write Club last night, and I finally got some comments back from Brand on "Computer Dating". He was able to put into words what was bugging me the most about it. Too much build up to the exciting stuff, and my prose is almost too smooth and polished for the story. The (hopefully) exciting, action-y stuff is written just like everything else. So I've got a direction to go in, and it's one that involves probably chopping the first third of the story. Forget the scalpel, nurse, hand me a hatchet... I've managed to finally stick to the plan of writing every weekday so far this week. No writing yet today, but I plan to. I've just been in a panicky mode due to real life unemployment issues, and every time I've sat down to write, I've felt like I should be off finding a job, never mind that I applied for five jobs today through various sources. I've almost reached a point where I'm hoping to sell stories just for the money, how sad is that?
Wednesday, September 18, 2002
I lied...
Okay, I lied. I finished up the new first interlude of The Host tonight. I'm hoping to rework the next actual story chapter and send both bits to the Minions this week. THEN I can clean off my desk. I promise.
Monday, September 16, 2002
I am officially declaring this my week to clear off my proverbial writer's desk. At least one more of the stories listed as being edited WILL go out this week, damn it. I know, I know, I promised the Minions two more chapters of The Host to edit, but this is making me nutty.
Kick me...
Grar grar grar. So I worked on cleaning up "Midsummer" this morning. Oh. My. God. Apparently, when I did my major rewrite, which included switching a lot of sections around, I didn't bother to do a lot of work cleaning up transitions, making sure the new order of events made sense, and so on. What I had on my hands was an incoherent MESS. At first I thought, okay, maybe I just rearranged sections and then submitted the wrong draft. No, no I didn't, because there were some rewrites, just not nearly enough. I was careless and a little cocky because I adore this story. What kills me is that I really thought this could be the story that was good enough for F&SF, and I already submitted to them in this state. Grar. Kicking myself. But anyway, it's coherent again, and is currently running off on my printer to send off today to Realms of Fantasy.
Saturday, September 14, 2002
Midsummer rejection
Glimmer Train rejected "Midsummer". Not terribly surprised about that, especially when I re-read the edit I'd sent them. I'm surpremely not happy with the story. I want to resubmit it, but I think it still needs some cleanup before I send it back out again. Not to mention, I'm not quite sure where to send it next. Bleh.
Thursday, September 12, 2002
Mythic retelling
I got some writing done tonight, finally starting one of the 'new' sections of The Host. I'm inserting three or four interludes that are separate from the main story, similar to the prelude with Maura. The idea is to trace how mythology changed from faeries kidnapping likely subjects to aliens doing the same. Just for kicks, since I haven't done it in ages, here's a little bit of what I wrote tonight: Long and long ago there lived a handsome young man on the shores of Lake Lough. Fiachra was the joy of his family and the pride of his clan. He excelled at all things, so much so that some gossiped that he was a child of Lugh of the Long Arm, Master of All Skills. Fiachra was a fearsome warrior, had a deft hand with a verse, but above all these things, Fiachra was blessed with a voice that made the wind herself pause to listen. When he raised his voice in song, fruit ripened in nearby orchards, in season or no. Men on the verge of bloodshed would forget their wrath and swear oaths of brotherhood to one another. Some swore their cows produced richer, sweeter milk, and in greater abundance. Many pleaded with Fiachra to sing in their fields, in hopes of a larger crop. Fiachra would always do as he was asked, for in truth, singing was a joy to him beyond any other. Nor were the cows the only ones enthralled by Fiachra's sweet voice. All the unmarried girls (and no small few of the married ones) thrilled to his singing, many of them tossing their hearts at his feet without a second thought. Alas for them, Fiachra's heart remained his own, and he loved none. The bereft maidens chided him as proud and unfeeling, and the words stung until he wept, giving their words the lie. He often wondered what flaw there was in him that made him unworthy to feel love, and he grieved. Naturally, that voice of his is what gets him in trouble. ;)
Minions!
Well, the Minions met last night and we all did our first critiques of each other. I'll concur with Julie: We're a talented bunch. :) I have so much good stuff to work on with the first several chapters of The Host now, I feel more enthused about diving in and editing again. The only problem, of course, is that I want to go back and rework the first five chapters (well, prelude and four chapters) again. I'm resisting that urge, because I feel like I should at least finish rewriting the whole thing first, then go back and tweak. The good news is, they liked it. This made me happy. They also had some great insights, both into factual details that were fuzzy or wrong (hey, the novel's set at the University of Michigan and all three of them are U of M alumni) and in the more esoteric type stuff. The bad news is, as excited as I am to get back to work, I'm also feeling remarkably lazy. Part of my head is whining, "But I don't WAAAANT to completely rework David as a character!" Which is a problem, because David's a pretty lame character as written. (I've described him as the stereotypical hero's girlfriend in your basic pulpy sort of story: decorative, exists only for the hero's purposes, doesn't do much.) That's why my first instinct was to cut him rather than flesh him out. But he needs to be there. I'm realizing, thinking over the course of the novel, that there just isn't enough conflict between A.J. and her "real life". Sure, she's got conflict, but it's largely either internal, or completely removed from her everyday life. David, as a boyfriend or at least potential boyfriend, could be excellent fodder for real world conflict. I hint at it a little, but I don't use it enough. You know, I'd tried retyping in the manuscript as a rewriting tool, thinking that would make me rethink everything I typed, but that hasn't happened as much as I had expected. When I type from a manuscript, I think part of my brain shuts off and I go into data entry mode. If I can just find a way to stop that... So yeah. I want to rewrite. But I don't want to rewrite. Geh.
Tuesday, September 10, 2002
Grar
Not doing so well with the five days a week thing, although I did write today, a little bit. I was hoping to have several chapters to pass out to the Minions tomorrow, but that's not going to happen, at this rate. I have one chapter to give them, because I absolutely was not able to keep my eyes open today. I mean, I sat here at my computer and slept, sitting up, for like four hours. Several times I'd wake up enough to go, "Damn! I need to start getting stuff done," and then I'd go back to sleep before I finished the thought. This after getting a decent night's sleep. I'm slightly concerned, this happens a lot. If nothing else, it's really cutting into my writing time.
Monday, September 09, 2002
Cross post, but I don't care!
My story "Rhythm of the Tides" is now up at Strange Horizons! *dances around*
Friday, September 06, 2002
Resolution
I'm out of the habit of writing, and this is a bad thing. Henceforth I resolve to do better, even if I do just go back to an hour a day. I got one hell of a lot done, writing an hour a day. I need to work on something new, at least part of the time, because I'm getting tired of rewriting. I miss being productive, damn it. I received the final draft of "Rhythm of the Tides" yesterday. I'm amazed. It's a much better story than the one I originally submitted. Hooray for editors! I don't have an exact publication date yet, but I'm so psyched about this.
Tuesday, August 27, 2002
Strange Horizons update
I got some indepth edits on my story this morning. According to Jed Hartman, the editor I've been working with, publication is schedule for two weeks from now. It's amazing the things he'd like for me to change, some really nitpicky wording things. But at the same time, most of them have me slapping my forehead, going, "Why didn't I catch that?" The answer, of course, is because I'm not an editor.
Sunday, August 25, 2002
"Writing is an adventure. To begin with, it is a toy and an amusement. Then it becomes a mistress, then it becomes a master, then it becomes a tyrant. The last phase is that just as you are about to be reconciled to your servitude, you kill the monster and fling him to the public." --Winston Churchill
Friday, August 23, 2002
Romance, me?
Worked on rewriting "The Girl Behind the Counter" tonight, and decided to try adding (eep) a love scene. I don't know how explicit it will turn out to be, but either way, it's a first for me. It's a little scary.
Wednesday, August 21, 2002
Progress!
I rewrote the first half of "The Girl Behind the Counter" today, and I think I've got a handle on where it needs to change now. I'm hoping to finish it tomorrow and send it off this week. Go me!
Tuesday, August 20, 2002
I HAVE to start keeping a notebook next to my bed. And carrying one with me. Twice now I've had story ideas, brilliant ones I thought. Once was at Julie's birthday party, the other came to me in the middle of the night a few nights ago. Neither time I wrote them down. Now they're both gone. The one that woke me up in the middle of the night wasn't even spec fic, but mainstream. Grar. I need something new to work on. All this editing and revising is killing me. Not that I'm getting much of it done. The new kitten's cute though.
Wednesday, August 14, 2002
Well, the good news is, I have my laptop back, FINALLY. The bad news is, class ends this week, so this week is pretty much shot as far as writing goes. Writing papers. Several of them. I WILL spend the two weeks between semesters writing. I will. Stop laughing.
Monday, August 12, 2002
WTF?
The more I think about this quote from Phillip Pullman, the more it irks me. "Fantasy and fiction in general is failing to do what it might be doing," he was reported as saying in The Guardian. "It has unlimited potential to explore all sorts of metaphysical and moral questions, but it is not doing that. "You can't leave morality out unless your work is so stupid and trivial, and so worthless that no-one would want to read it anyway."Okay, first of all, His Dark Materials wasn't good enough to warrant all that pretentiousness. Second of all -- what the fuck? I admit, I have literary aspirations beyond "just" being a genre writer. I believe that Pullman has a point when he says that fantasy has that unlimited potential to explore metaphysical questions. I'm all for that. But that is not the SOLE REASON for writing, or reading, anything. When my novels start getting published, if I start sounding like Pullman, all of you have permission to find me and smack me.
Thursday, August 08, 2002
Progress!
I finished editing Chapter 4 of The Host today, and I'll be passing out the prelude and first four chapters tonight at our first real Minions meeting. I am getting a serious case of stage fright here. I'm suddenly sure that all 37 pages of what I'm handing out are absolute crap. Geh.
Wednesday, August 07, 2002
Darn
Missed the first anniversary of this thing. I can't believe I've been writing here for a year. Wow. Still no computer. Lots of papers due for class. Very little writing time. Feh.
Sunday, August 04, 2002
Ungh!
I was reading Julie's writing journal (specifically this post), where she talked about how her characters don't take off in weird directions without her. Oddly, only my roleplaying characters seem to run off helter-skelter and do things I hadn't wanted them to do. (Jake, I'm looking in your direction, you headstrong bitch. I miss you, wake up again sometime, will ya?) My novel characters are normally well-behaved, but it seems like there comes a moment where they either wake up and start living and walking around my head on their own, or they just lie there, no matter how much electricity I blast into the cobbled-together corpse. ;) (And yes, when that happens, I've been known to cackle maniacally and crow, "It's alive! It's aliiiiiive!") I'm happy to report that the characters for novel #2 are starting to move sluggishly around my head going "Ungh! Friend!" I'm still computerless, essentially, and it's making me a little nutty. I'm itching to get back to work on The Host. I've been working on the second novel (Geh, need a real title for it, Real Soon Now) on paper, character sketches, plot ideas, questions, backgrounds, but it's not the same. I'm restless.
Sunday, July 28, 2002
Grar
Why is it whenever I start making progress, I have computer problems? The power cord on my laptop died last night, leaving me with a dead laptop battery and no way to recharge it. Yes, technically I can write without the laptop, but it just doesn't feel right. :P
Tuesday, July 23, 2002
Progress!
I rewrote a chapter and a half of The Host today, totaling over 3,000 words. I'll update the monthly total as soon as I retrieve it from the laptop, but I know my monthly total is over 5,000 now. I feel much better. I fixed some things in the very first chapter that were really bothering me. I think the relationship between A.J. and David might turn out to be slightly less gackworthy now. I hope. I also ended up sending "Midsummer" to a magazine called Glimmer Train -- not a spec fic market, but a literary one. I'm not entirely convinced that "Midsummer" will sell to a spec fic market, because it doesn't quite fit the mold. :P
Monday, July 22, 2002
Still here...
I rewrote the prelude for The Host -- and I heard back from F&SF. At least they're fast when it comes to rejecting me, right? Not sure where "Midsummer" is going to go next, possibly Black Gate.
Wednesday, July 17, 2002
Avoidance
*sigh* Avoiding starting the second draft. I keep saying I'm going to outline. I think I need to just stop putting it off and dive in, no outline. I just want some more input on the first draft, and SOME PEOPLE *coughbrandcough* can't be bothered to read the darn thing. Being in another country is no excuse, damn it! Screw it. I start rewriting tomorrow, no more putting it off. Oh, I did manage to send "Midsummer" off to F&SF on Monday.
Thursday, July 11, 2002
HOORAY!
I finished my first read through tonight! I have a pile of notes and several ideas in my head, all ready to be assimilated into a second draft. I have a lot of questions still, knowing where the problems are is only the first step to fixing them, after all. Some of my issues have me a little stumped. Overall, I think there's a lot of good stuff in this novel, but there's also a lot of crap, and a lot of weakness. Still, not bad for a first draft of a first novel, written entirely off the cuff. I'm wondering how to start the second draft. I'm debating trying to construct an outline that incorporates the new subplot ideas, then start the rewrite from there. That sounds kinda daunting right now though. Feh.
Get me, I'm a minion!
Yes, it's true, I'm officially one of Shakespeare's Minions. Really, deep down, I always have been. Still, the validation is nice. I have been working, despite the lack of posting and the low word count off to the left there. I've got about four chapters of The Host left to read through and make notes on. The plan is to wrap that up tonight at Write Club. I have a ton of notes so far, of things to change, things to fix, things to add -- I've got two subplots and several scenes for existing subplots that need to be mixed in for the second draft. I think I have my work cut out for me, but I also think I'm still well on track to have a decent second draft by September -- at which point I start looking for an agent, oh my. In other news, "All the Lonely People" came back to me from Weird Tales after about six weeks, along with a rather rude note. At least it wasn't a form, right? I've been bad though, I haven't sent either that or "Midsummer" back out yet, mostly because I've been too lazy to go buy postage. "Lonely People" needs some serious tweaking though.
Tuesday, July 02, 2002
Rejection
"Midsummer" came back today, after six weeks. I'm not surprised, but also not pleased. This was a form rejection in the truest sense of the word. Enclosed in my package was an 8 by 2 strip of paper with badly photocopied 'thanks for sending it, but it doesn't meet our needs' on it. And a blank line for comments. Ah well. Now I can just pop the manuscript (which doesn't look like it was touched at all) back in the mail tomorrow. Up next, F&SF, where I'm expecting a quick and dirty rejection from VanGelder's assistant. I could be wrong, but...
Summertime, and the livin' is easy...?
Okay, so June was a sort of vacation. Everyone takes vacations, right? I'm back in the saddle again, especially since school started last week and has given me some structure to work with. I think I have more going on right now writing-wise than is really smart, but what can I do? I can't edit ALL the time, and the only story idea I've got seriously percolating right now is the second novel. What started out as a cyberpunk-ish idea is turning into a hugely epic, socio-political novel about an unwilling religious leader. It's tentatively titled The Edge of Heaven, but you know me, tentative titles usually turn into the real thing. Right now I'm working on trying to outline the novel, but I'm also poking at part of the manuscript too, just to keep from getting bored with the outline. I have a notebook set aside for this project alone (another first for me, to do so much work longhand) that is slowly being filled with glossaries, place names, characters, and character histories. I realized yesterday (and, scared, confessed to Julie), I think I may have material for a trilogy here. A science-fiction trilogy even. Hold me, I'm scared. Still working on edits for The Host. Right now I'm still reading through the whole thing in depth, making grammar and wording changes, looking for story holes and inconsistencies. Once done with that, I'm going to start the second draft from scratch, retyping the whole thing in. That should be fun. Right? Right? And then, of course, I still have two stories I'm kicking around. Finished, but... not happy with either of them, and not sure why. They'll be simmering a little while longer, I think. Oh yeah, and did I mention I'm back in school fulltime...?
Wednesday, June 19, 2002
Still alive!
Yes, I am still here, I am still alive. I am not, however, still writing. I know, I'm an evil slacker. Can't even tell you for sure how it started, but I wound up playing EverQuest a lot instead of writing. The good news is, that although I am still unemployed, I don't have to worry about employment until at least September, because I will be playing the poor full-time student living on financial aid until then. At which point I may remain the poor full-time student living on financial aid. We'll see. Which means I should have time to write furiously, even after school starts. Still might be able to make my goals for June, if I get off my behind. Working on it, working on it...
Thursday, June 06, 2002
Gab club
Well, I managed to finish editing another five chapter section of The Host today, but Write Club was more like Gab Club. This is a good thing though. I've noticed Julie and I tend to do that once every couple of months or so -- hey, I think it's usually after we've skipped a week! Plus I haven't been talking to her as often as I did when I was working (you know, and chained to my computer for 9 hours a day -- thank god for AIM), so we had some catching up to do. I've become convinced, at almost the halfway point of The Host, that it doesn't entirely suck and is probably going to make a pretty good novel. This doesn't mean much, of course. Things went downhill in the last half. I fear there is much that is cringeworthy lying in wait for me. I realized today that I can set up character and conflict like a pro, but when it comes to resolving it, I kinda suck. This is also true of my short stories. (Heh. Brand's response to that: "You're just like Neil Gaiman!" He was a wee bit more disappointed with the endings to American Gods and Neverwhere than I was.) Anyway, at this rate, I should be retyping the draft by next week. Who knows how long that will take, especially if I toss in the extra subplot that occurred to me today. Hey, this editing thing is kinda fun!
Wednesday, June 05, 2002
So it begins...
I actually started editing The Host today, god help me. I've got a sort of system worked out, we'll see how well it works. I took a fairly sizable chunk (about 65 out of 300 pages) of it and went through it thoroughly today. I noted word changes and typos and grammar flubs on the manuscript, and made notes for questions I hadn't answered or bits that didn't make sense. Then I did an index card for each chapter, just summarizing the chapter and listing any plot or character concerns I had for that chapter. Once I've done that for the whole novel, I'm going to sit down and retype in the second draft, as opposed to just editing the original. I'm hoping to have a finished second draft by the end of the month. Hoping being the operative word there.
Tuesday, June 04, 2002
Another day, another draft
Voila! I now have a finished draft of "Computer Dating". I finished it up this morning with amusing accompaniment from my stereo, which seemed to be reading my mind as far as songs the randomizer chose to play. Yes, it's true. I've finally gotten past my block about writing at home. I've managed to find myself the perfect little corner to curl up and write in. Naturally, it's not my desk. Of course, now I want something new to work on. The new novel is slowly percolating in the back of my mind, cooking while I sleep, I imagine. I keep eyeing the massive manuscript of The Host sitting on my desk and pondering how best to start tackling it. I think I may spend the afternoon breaking it down to sections of a couple chapters apiece. Then I'll start with a careful readthrough with a red pen handy, to really pin down the problem areas. Maybe by the time I get sick of that, the other novel will have simmered long enough for me to start actually outlining it. That's what I'm hoping at least.
Monday, June 03, 2002
Yeah, I'm still around...
Today was the first morning I actually got up and wrote as planned. I didn't have any other pressing errands (you know, involving how the heck I'm going to survive until school starts this fall, that sort of thing), so I was able to sit down after breakfast and work. About two hours' worth on "Computer Dating", which I swear I will finish by the end of the week. I may spend some time writing this afternoon too. The bug bit me today, and heck, it's cold and rainy outside, what else am I going to do? Losing my job has caused a lot of restructuring of my plans, obviously. Not all of it is for the worse. In fact, most of it is for the better. I'm almost absurdly happy that I'm going to have a little more time (in the short run at least) to focus almost completely on writing, and in the long run, I'll be able to focus completely on the two most important things to me right now: school and writing. My financial situation is starting to fall into place, and I'm feeling more and more like this is the way things were supposed to happen for me.
Wednesday, May 29, 2002
Back in the saddle
I mapped out the rest of "Computer Dating" today. It's not something I've tried before, but I did a couple of paragraphs listing out the rest of the scenes and what happens in each of them. If I can keep up the pace, I should finish it by the end of the week. Heh. I guess it is almost the end of the week, huh?
Pause
I haven't written since Friday. Some bad stuff happened at work Friday afternoon, and as a result, I lost my job on Tuesday. I'm looking at this as a chance to regroup a little, reprioritize, but as a result, I haven't written this week. I'm planning to change that, maybe this afternoon, maybe tomorrow. Since I've got the time off, I may as well put it to good use, right?
Friday, May 24, 2002
More research
Still in research mode. I even broke down and, in true Julie-fashion, made a research page of all the things I'm looking into right now. It's a little bare at the moment, but I keep adding things. Some interesting ideas for global disasters. It's tricky to find a scenario that results in the destruction of civilization without completely wiping out mankind too. Then there's the question of how long it takes the survivors to rebuild. I need a timeframe that's long enough for some portions of humanity to be completely ignorant of our past, but for other portions to be at technological levels that surpass ours -- and I need the two groups to be in relatively close proximity to each other. This is the first real worldbuilding I've done -- it's a little scary. Speaking of scary, last night at Write Club, Julie and I discovered that Borders Cafe blocked off the only accessible power outlets, the ones we'd been using to power our laptops while we wrote. We were grousing about needing to find another place (because neither of our laptops are powerful enough to run on battery power for more than an hour and a half or so). Julie said, "Someone needs to open a cafe for writers." We looked at each other for a moment, and then in perfect, unplanned unison said, "No." After we stopped laughing, Julie said, "We'd never have time to do our writing, if we did." I agreed, and we shelved the idea of a writer's cafe.
Thursday, May 23, 2002
Arcologies
Been doing a lot of research today on arcologies -- it's been a slow work day. I'm having a rather mind-expanding experience here, putting together my own futuristic civilization for the cyberpunkish story mentioned below (sorry, no title yet, it's not much more than a glimmer in my eye at this point). I made some notes over lunch. I may just have the beginnings of a novel here. I know that arcologies have sort of become a standard in cyberpunk, possibly to the point of triteness. Still... the cyberpunk arcology doesn't have much in common with the theory. Did you know there is a working prototype arcology right here in the U.S.? The theory itself is fascinating. Paolo Soleri is as much philosopher as architect. I haven't decided if my world is our world in the future or not, but the question that keeps coming to my mind is this: given the events of September 11th, how likely is it that our descendants will want to build huge, enormously tall buildings with internal ecosystems within which to live? Holy cow, that gives me an idea!
Dry spell
*sigh* I am having a dry dry week as far as writing goes. I'm spending my mornings feeling drained and really tired. This hasn't been a problem before, but this week I started trying to avoid going to Starbucks every day in an effort to economize a little (as well as to try and cut out all the sugar I was eating in the morning). It's enough to make me wonder if there really IS something magical in the air there. Of course, it could also be because I've been staying up too late playing EverQuest all week. Discipline, I need discipline... I found a snippet of a cyberpunk-ish story that I wrote last summer. It's not much more than a couple hundred words, but I've got some neat ideas brewing there. I also did spend part of yesterday morning looking over "Heaven's Orphans". There's story there, I just can't figure out how to dig it out. It's highly frustrating. Write Club tonight. I really need it.
Tuesday, May 21, 2002
Magical realism, mythology, and me
I've been reading Neil Gaiman's American Gods, and I started thinking about a discussion I had with Brand not so long ago. Two 'mainstream' authors whose writing infects me with insane jealousy are Gabriel Garcia Marquez and Toni Morrison. Magical realism fascinates me, being able to see the unusual in everyday living. I'd love to write magical realism. Brand's contention was that I couldn't, simply because of who I am. Garcia and Morrison, he said, reflect the cultures from which they come. When, to use his example, Garcia wrote about a very old man with enormous wings, he approached it not from the viewpoint of "wouldn't it be neat if this happened?", but from the viewpoint of "this happened". The cultural mythos of South America has room for fallen angels. I got a similar feel from Morrison, an almost matter of fact tone. In her case, the 'magical' elements of the story are not the point of the story, they're simply a sideline. They're an accepted part of the world she's writing about. The main point of Song of Solomon is not that Milkman's ancestors could fly, but that Milkman learns who he is by learning who his family was. That, I just realized, is where the line between fantasy and magical realism lies. If Song of Solomon were a fantasy novel, the point would be that Milkman's ancestor flew back to Africa. His subsequent self-discovery would be almost tangential. Whoa. I never got that before. Anyway, Brand's argument was that my culture (white middle class America) doesn't have that same room for mysticism. I think he's right. Mainstream America does not have a mythology. We're too young. Mythology starts out as an oral tradition, often with pre-literate cultures. Look at the Greeks, the Celts, the Norse. The United States was born a literate nation. Oral traditions were already dying out in Europe when the first Europeans started landing here. As Gaiman posits, the immigrants brought their old gods and mythologies over here with them, then promptly forgot them. We have no reason to develop a mythology, because our history is all there, nice and neatly written down. No one is going to turn George Washington's life story in the Matter of America. Instead of mythology we have history and religion and folklore, not quite the same thing. So, I think I lack a clear enough perspective to do magical realism, without it seeming strained and contrived. Why would I want to? Why focus so much on the small difference between that and fantasy? Just because Morrison isn't pigeonholed in what Ursula K. LeGuin calls the genre ghetto (she pigeonholed as an African American writer, which is a whole 'nother conversation right there), she gets enormous praise and respect for a novel that, in many respects, has as much in common with Emma Bull or Charles deLint as with Saul Bellow. I want to someday be respected, I want to write really 'literary' stuff. It's extremely difficult to get that respect as a genre writer, and I guess that's part of the reason I resist the label. (Of course, on the other hand, I've noticed it's also tough to find 'literary' genre stuff in the usual genre markets, although this seems to be changing.) I guess I should quit worrying about labels and concentrate on writing what I write and doing it well. The rest is out of my hands.
Blah
Well, "Midsummer" is off to Fantastic Stories of the Imagination -- thanks everyone for the suggestions. I seem to be having a bit of a dry spell over the past few days. I didn't write much on Sunday, not at all yesterday. Today was one of those days where I managed to get some words down, but they all felt lifeless and flat. Of course, that might be because I feel pretty lifeless and flat today. I'm in "I hate this stupid story" mode on "Computer Dating" -- you know, the point where the whole story seems pointless, the plot seems contrived and trite, and the characters idiotic? It'll pass, I'm sure. I just need to keep working. In the meantime though, I need a nap. Too bad I'm at work. The good news though: I managed to get the floppy disk out of my laptop finally. Go me.
Monday, May 20, 2002
Good weekend
Well, I had a great weekend, productive and fun. I got a decent bit of writing done on Saturday, and I should be sending out "Midsummer" to its first market tomorrow. I'm undecided whether to send it to F&SF or Black Gate first. On the one hand, F&SF just rejected a selkie story from me, but on the other hand, Black Gate says its response time is about 3-4 months. :P Suggestions, ideas?
Friday, May 17, 2002
Writing humor
Heh. Overheard on Comedy Central: "Yeah, I'm working on a book. I'm really excited about it. Some writers write in first person, some write in third person, my book is in fifth person. Every sentence begins with, 'I know this guy who heard from this other guy...'"
Lisa, Inc.?
I've started really considering the implications lately of writing for profit and being a 'business'. My goal is to eventually quit the day job and write full-time, which means I need to start paying attention to the business aspects. Fortunately, it seems like working with accounting and accounting software as much as I do at the day job, I'm not quite as clueless as I thought I was. Now, however, I really do need to get my organizational skills together for things like recordkeeping, and actually plan things, instead of just doing what feels right all the time (not to knock my intuition, but a little planning can't hurt). I'd like to start taking the office-in-home credit, for starters. And to do that, I really do need to get a desk I can actually write at. Although I have this great little separate office space (which in most homes would be a dining room), my desk is too small and too low and too cramped for me to comfortably sit and write at. So first on the wish list, a new desk -- which I really can't afford right now. I'm seriously considering asking for one for my birthday, instead of the overnight trip Mom and I were going to take. If nothing else, having a good desk will save me the cost of going to Starbucks to write every morning, right? :)
It seemed appropriate...
On a whim, I sent "All the Lonely People" off to Weird Tales this morning. It hasn't been as edited to death as I'd like normally -- the only real feedback I've gotten aside from "very strange" were a few comments from Julie -- but I figured what the heck. Their submission guidelines said very specifically that they like fiction below 1000 words, so why not? Besides, it makes me feel better to have something out circulating. Another 600+ words on "Computer Dating" this morning, in which our heroine is menaced by a scary stalker-type. That was a great deal of fun to write. I've noticed that when I get to a 'good part' I write so much faster than when things are sort of directionless. I love those moments. That's when the story starts to take on its own life. Still looking into various aspects of artificial intelligence. I spent a good part of yesterday reading about Alan Turing, which was interesting in and of itself.
Thursday, May 16, 2002
Get me, I'm writin' science fiction!
I think the notes I made yesterday are actually helping out with "Computer Dating". I blew through a couple of scenes today, and I'm finally getting into the heart of the story. It's just over 2000 words long so far. At this rate, I'm thinking it'll be about 4,000-5,000 words long, making it shorter than the other stories I've done lately -- well, except for "All the Lonely People". Heh. I've had one person read it so far. The response was "strange, very strange". I don't think he liked it very much. :) All I need to do now is find a market for a very short, very strange little story. I was startled to realize this morning that "Computer Dating" is, in fact, sci-fi rather than the fantasy I normally write. That's kinda cool. I never really thought of myself as a science fiction writer before. Of course, this also means that I'm going to be doing some research over the next couple days, just to make sure that I've got all the technical stuff straight. (This would be why I don't write science fiction -- too much research!)
Wednesday, May 15, 2002
Someday...
I did something I haven't really done with a short story before. I got momentarily stuck on "Computer Dating" this morning, so I pulled out my notebook and started plotting out the rest of the story on paper. It's not quite an outline, but it's a synopsis of what I think happens from here on out. It was kinda neat. I'll be interested to see if that actually helps me get unstuck -- by the time I'd finished, it was time for me to go. I've been daydreaming a lot about quitting my day job. I keep envisioning the announcement email that gets sent around work when someone quits, you know, the one that wishes the person well. In my daydreams, it mentions that I've sold my first novel and will be writing fulltime, and all my coworkers are amazed that quiet little Lisa had something that unique and special going on all the while she was in her cube doing her job. (Well, except for those few coworkers that know I actually write.) It's a pleasant little daydream. It gives me a push to make sure it comes true someday.
Tuesday, May 14, 2002
John Denver was wrong...
Sunshine on my shoulders does not make me happy, it makes me sleepy. That was my problem this morning. I tried valiantly to work on "Computer Dating" -- and did pretty well, all things considered -- but I spent a good part of the hour dozing with my eyes open like a cat. The sun was just... so.... warm... I have a feeling I may have written utter gibberish in that last fifteen minutes or so.
Monday, May 13, 2002
Glory be, I got back to work today. And boy did I ever. I finished up "All the Lonely People" -- which turned out to be a very odd little 700 word thing. I think it's pretty funny, but that could just be me. I started another story, tentatively titled, "Computer Dating". I don't want to give too much away, of course, because it actually has a little bit of a twist to it. I'll be interesting to see how long I can stretch the story before giving it away. :) I also did a little cleanup editing on "Rhythm of the Tides", from the notes the editors at Strange Horizons gave me. I think I'm about ready to send it to them as a final draft. We'll see. I have so much editing to do right now. It's weird to have this many stories almost ready to send out. Well, almost. Some are closer than others. Oh yeah. I'm putting "Heaven's Orphans" on the back burner for now. I don't think the idea's quite done cooking yet. I can't get it to come out right.
Thursday, May 09, 2002
Oh my gosh and oh my golly, this is just a red letter writing day!! In addition to getting some good work done at Write Club tonight, I came home to find out that Strange Horizons has accepted "Rhythm of the Tides"! My first, honest to god, professional, non-RPG publication!! They're expecting to run it in September, but that isn't carved in stone yet. Oh my lord. I'm giddy.
I can't help it, I have to share. This is part of the email I got from Dawn about The Host: "OK, I just finished chapter 10 last night and I did not want to put it down. It was going on midnight, my eyes were all bleary, I was yawning, my head and shoulders hurt from trying to hold the manuscript and a flashlight at the same time, and I fought tooth and nail to keep reading instead of going to sleep."She absolutely made my day. :)
Back to work! I spent my hour this morning doing some revising of "Girl Behind the Counter" (thanks Mike, for the reading and comments!), then I started shuffling my notecards around for "Midsummer". Tonight I'll start actually picking an order and redoing the manuscript. It was fascinating though, to think about how the story's mood and theme changed depending on what order I presented the scenes in. I was surprised to discover there was more than one coherent order! In other news, I've started getting writerly spam ("We want YOUR manuscript!"). Now I feel like a REAL writer. ;)
Wednesday, May 08, 2002
Early reviews of The Host say it's a "compelling story". Of course, she's only on page 40, so hopefully it will stay compelling. My arms are mostly better, but I still haven't done any writing. I'm going to get back into it though, I swear.
Monday, May 06, 2002
No writing. Arms still hurt. Grar. If I'm not getting better here in the next couple days, I think I may have to break down and see a doctor. I'm trying to figure out why now? I've been writing constantly for a month, so why the flare up all of a sudden? Expect things to be quiet here while I save on typing. Oh, The Host is off to some first readers. So there's that done, at least.
Friday, May 03, 2002
I've definitely got tendonitis, or something like it. My wrists and fingers and shoulders just ache like mad, especially my forearms and where my right thumb meets my hand. I'm planning on spending most of the weekend away from the computer. We'll see if that helps. I started putting "Midsummer" on notecards today, one scene summarized per card. I'm planning to maybe shuffle them around, see if a structural change would perk things up, and also to see what can get cut and what needs expanding. I've got a couple of scenes already that seem unnecessary. Then I'm taking Brand's suggestion. Using the cards and the last draft, I'm going to type the whole thing over from scratch and revise as I go. Then it should be ready to start sending off.
Thursday, May 02, 2002
Diskette still stuck in my computer, but other than that things are just fine. I did a little bit of freehand writing this morning, mostly to brainstorm the new story, "All the Lonely People". This is the story idea I'm stealing from William, my main character in "The Girl Behind the Counter", who also happens to be a writer. ;) In "Girl", William describes "All the Lonely People" as "pleasantly surreal". He's not a fantasy writer, really, so I don't know if this one will be fantasy or not. So far, about a 140 words into it, it's definitely a little surreal.
Wednesday, May 01, 2002
Another story finished! Dear god, I'm giddy with all this production. "The Girl Behind the Counter" wrapped up this morning at about 5500 words, I believe. Unfortunately, my diskette got stuck in my laptop, so I can't tell for sure right now. Please god, no computer problems, not NOW...
Monday, April 29, 2002
"Girl Behind the Counter" is going nicely. Over the 4,000 word mark now, and getting into the climax of it. At this rate, I'll have a finished draft at the end of the week. I'm starting to work on some serious longterm goals as a writer. Be afraid. By the end of the year, I want to be seriously looking for an agent. We'll see.
Friday, April 26, 2002
I've hit the point on "Girl" where I know where the story's going from here. My favorite place to be. :) However, I'm frustrated with "Midsummer", still. I think it's well-written crap right about now. I'm going to try Julie's notecard trick: put all of the scenes on notecards and try rearranging them to see if changing the structure will make it more alive. Who knows, maybe I will rewrite it so the whole thing might or might not be just a fantasy born of Michael's midlife crisis. I mean, what better midlife crisis for an aging bookworm? He doesn't run out and chase younger women or buy sports cars, he imagines that he's captured a selkie! Hm. That idea might have some possibilities there...
Thursday, April 25, 2002
What would we do without AIM during the workday? Maegara: Oh yeah! Well, I don't know where to look to find out what trends were in a certain period at a certain time. With Harper, I have this image of a town that was pretty much a wide spot in the road until after the Civil War, when it became a popular tourist spot, maybe closer to Williamsburg than Myrtle Beach in feel. But I don't know if that area developed that way at all. naiadej: Hmm. Lemme do some checking. Maegara: Okay. :-) Maegara: I'm also wondering if I should try something as ambitious as drawing a map. :-) naiadej: Did you decide on a state this town is in? Maegara: Not really. I may leave it ambigious, but if I nail it down, it'll probably be North Carolina. naiadej: That night help, even if it's just a rough skecth for you to cement it in your mind. Maegara: Me, drawing maps. Scary! :-) naiadej: I was going to draw a map for Purgatory, until I realized making it at all linear and organized will ruin the whole thing :-) naiadej: To start, this site might help you get an idea of the areas history: naiadej: http://www.ah.dcr.state.nc.us/default.htm naiadej: and this: http://www.co.catawba.nc.us/otheragency/ccgs/timeline.htm naiadej: Oooh, this looks like a good one. naiadej: http://www.ncecho.org/ naiadej: Even if you never say it's NC, you have some shitorical models. naiadej: historical. Maegara: *gets the giggles* That is, without a doubt, the best typo I have ever seen.
Oh! I can't believe I forgot to mention this. "Midsummer" is up for critiquing at Critters this week. I'm hoping to get some (more) good feedback. It's pretty unanimous what I need to fix on it so far, we'll see if any other problems crop up.
"The Girl Behind the Counter" is venturing a little into the wish-fulfillment area. I mean, it's about a writer who magically starts doing very well. Not instant-superstar well, but 'wow my career is starting to pick up a little' well. I don't know if that's going to make it a stronger or weaker story in the long run. I'm afraid it's going to read like 'This is what I wish would happen to me'. Enh, I'll just write it and see. I mean, the main character is nothing like me. He's a little bit of a bastard, really. Good thing I like him anyway. Hey, they say write what you know, right?
Wednesday, April 24, 2002
Another 500 words on "The Girl Behind the Counter". I'm starting to get into the feel of this story now, but I'm still not quite sure where the storyline is leading me. Our hero is just starting to discover the oddness around the corners. Interestingly enough, and I posted about this over at the AHADD page, my hero -- who's a writer -- gave me an idea for a story. He briefly mentioned something he was working on, and it occurred to me that it was a pretty damn good idea for a story. As I've asked elsewhere, is it plagiarism if you're stealing from one of your characters? I'm thinking about what I'd like to do after I finish this story. I'm thinking maybe I'll try to outline "Heaven's Orphans" as a novel, and see how far I get into it. As far as really really long term goals go, I want to get one good draft of a novel, and -- dare I say it -- start possibly looking for an agent. The more I read, the more it seems that to get a foot in the door with a larger publishing company, you gotta have an agent. Most big houses won't even look at an unagented submission anymore. Then there's the possibility of trying a small press too... I dunno. But for the first time in my life I actually feel like I have ambitions. It's a little scary.
Tuesday, April 23, 2002
Bless me, I actually did some writing this morning. I'd missed it. I suppose it's probably normal that right after finishing The Host I'd take a few days to do more administrative stuff, like edit and research and send off a submission. I changed my goal for the rest of the month. The formerly unnamed Harper story has a title now, and I'd like to have a first draft done by the end of the month. I like it so far. It's in first person, which I haven't written in in quite a while. I've always liked first person better. Coming back to it feels like coming home.
Monday, April 22, 2002
Just got a rejection on "Rhythm of the Tides" from Fantasy and Science Fiction magazine. I was a very good girl and immediately turned around and emailed it off to Strange Horizons. The letter from F&SF may or may not have been a form letter. It was signed in what looks like real ink, and it mentions that the story was 'nicely written'. He said it didn't hold his interest though. This sounds suspiciously like the letter Julie got from them as well, so I have a feeling he may say that to all the girls. Nice turnaround time though: 13 days. I'm feeling very fidgety about my writing right now. It really bothers me that "Midsummer" doesn't seem to have the emotional punch I want it to have. That's my strong point! I know, based on the comments I've gotten so far, that it's probably because one of the characters, Natalie, isn't drawn well enough. That bothers me too -- that's my other strong point. Because emotion and character are so intuitive for me, I have no earthly idea how to consciously fix it. Grar. This probably explains why I haven't done my hour yet today. Hard to feel motivated. I feel like I'm writing more, but not necessarily writing better at this point.
Saturday, April 20, 2002
Maybe I've just got novel on the brain now. I'm not sure. I've been poking at "Heaven's Orphans" all afternoon, and it keeps coming to me, that even at nearly six thousand words, I'm nowhere near the real story. I'm tempted to sit down and start trying to outline it as a larger work, but right now that seems too big a task to take on. It feels far too large to just be a short story, but I'm not sure there's enough there to be a full novel. Maybe it's that there's not enough there yet. I'm turning it over in my head. My other source of frustration today is with the whole idea of Harper. I've never been a writer who was really into world building, unlike some people I could mention. I have bits and pieces of history coming to me, but I have absolutely no real world knowledge of how cities come into being, and history really works. Part of me suggests that since I write fantasy, why does it matter if the town I create has any basis in fact? But the other part argues that precisely because of the type of fantasy I write, the more real world details there are, the better. I think I'm balking at doing research. I want to just be able to dive in and write and have the correct details just show up where I need them. I do that to some extent with minor research, but this is big stuff. (How the hell did writers survive before the internet?) I'm toying with the idea of playing around with "Midsummer" some more, making it more magical realism than fantasy. As it is right now, it's a selkie story, a retelling of the myth. It could be something very different. It could be the story of a man's midlife crisis, really, triggered by childhood memories and what might or might not be a supernatural experience. I don't think I'm ready to do it yet, but the idea is intriguing me madly right now. I want to submit it as straight fantasy a few times first. I think I might be stalling a little. I think this is post-novel letdown. I don't want to lose momentum, but I don't feel ready to dive right back in to something else right away.
Friday, April 19, 2002
Well, I've been thinking about The Host all day (surprise, surprise), and already the enormous flaws in the manuscript are leaping out at me. However, rather than itching to dive in and fix it, I'm despairing a little. :P I started thinking about the whole process though, and I realized there are a lot of things I learned. Things I learned writing The Host:
I FINISHED THE HOST!! Ahem. Sorry to scream, but I have a feeling my coworkers would frown on me screaming for real around here. I finished the final, confrontational scene last night at Write Club, figuring I had about 1,000-2,000 words left to go to wrap everything up. Then when I was writing this morning, it all came to me and everything was wrapped in a single scene. It might be a little rushed, my endings usually are. I see the ending getting close and I start galloping like a race horse, but I don't care! That's what edits are for, right? I am an honest-to-goodness novelist, by god! Now it goes in the hypothetical trunk until at least June. At least. Final word count on the first draft: 64,987.
Wednesday, April 17, 2002
I had a wonderful day, complete with a solid hour or so working on The Host. Even though it's nearly midnight, I've an idea how I want to shift bits of "Midsummer" around, and I'm tempted to get to work. Sleep, who needs sleep?
Tuesday, April 16, 2002
Okay, this is it. I'm writing THE SCENE for The Host, the scene where our heroes face down their demons (nearly literally) and either come out the other side with heads held high or don't come out at all. I'm leaning towards the former, but you never know. I'm sensing a bittersweet victory ahead, but I'm not sure where the bitter is coming from. This is all very exciting! :)
Monday, April 15, 2002
Perfectly lovely day today, in all senses of the word. I got a lot of things done, including writing for the day. About another 800 words on The Host, and I'm still wondering, even in the midst of the final scenes, exactly how it's all going to end up. I have no idea. No, that's not true. I have a few ideas, but nothing concrete.
Sunday, April 14, 2002
Watching "Photographing Fairies" on the Sci-Fi channel tonight. This after spending the ENTIRE DAY (I'm not kidding), reading War for the Oaks by Emma Bull. Believe it or not, that's the first time I've read it. There's something vaguely unsatisifying about it, just like there was with the Charles de Lint I've read. Don't get me wrong, I really enjoyed both. I'm dying to play Changeling again after reading today. But it was like the old joke about eating Chinese food. An hour later I was hungry again. I'm starting to understand the introduction to Night Shift, where John D. McDonald talked about reading voraciously, and reading everything with either a grinding envy or a wearying contempt. He didn't say anything about feeling both. Which I do. I'm insanely envious that these authors got to this field before me, but I'm irritated too, because deep down part of me thinks I could have done more with their ideas. Is that egotistical enough for you? In other news, I obviously haven't written yet today, but I do have a new title for "Blue Lady", it's over on the left sidebar. Stolen shamelessly and paraphrased, I might add, from a quote in "Photographing Fairies".
Saturday, April 13, 2002
Spent most of this evening reworking "Midsummer", ironically, rather than going see A Midsummer Night's Dream on campus. Thanks to some of Brand's suggestions (the less esoteric ones, I think the narrative class he's taking is breaking his brain -- I had to look up some of the words he used in his notes, and I have a huge vocabulary), the beginning is a lot stronger. There's still some weak spots that need polish, though. I think by the end of the month, definitely, it'll be ready or nearly ready to start sending out.
Friday, April 12, 2002
I finished the scene! There was much rejoicing at Write Club last night. Not only were Julie and I both incredibly productive, with 1200 words each, but I finished the Scene That Would Not Die and crossed the 60,000 word mark with The Host. I'm into the climax now. I can't believe I'm getting so close to finishing this thing. I had a thought on "Blue Lady". Since my opening scenes are so enthralling to me... maybe that's where the story is. Maybe that should be the ending. Considering tearing it all apart and rebuilding.
Thursday, April 11, 2002
*sings* This is the scene that doesn't end, it just goes on and on, my friend. Well I started writing it not knowing what it was, now I'll continue writing it forever just because this is the scene that doesn't end, it just goes on and on, my friend... *repeat ad infinitum* Still writing. Still thinking it sucks. It's getting a little better. I spent as much time revising today and backtracking to fix continuity as I did anything else. It still feels clunky, but at least it's moving forward. I have to keep telling myself that.
Wednesday, April 10, 2002
Today's writing was not fun. I managed 800+ words on The Host, but I hated almost every one of them. At one point I stopped and scribbled in my writing notebook: "I am barfing up huge indigestible chunks of exposition in this scene." Maybe I'm not. I've gotten to the point where questions have to be answered by someone other than the main characters, and it's coming out as a Twenty Questions session with the guy who has the answers. Part of me wants to sit and stew over it to find another way to do it, but if I do, it will never get written. So I forge on. My internal editor is having a fit. This is a new kind of frustrating for me. I'm at the point where I pretty much know where I'm headed from here to the end, but I can't see a way to get there except by crappy, trite, boring writing. Which isn't fun. Grar.
Today's writing was not fun. I managed 800+ words on The Host, but I hated almost every one of them. At one point I stopped and scribbled in my writing notebook: "I am barfing up huge indigestible chunks of exposition in this scene." Maybe I'm not. I've gotten to the point where questions have to be answered by someone other than the main characters, and it's coming out as a Twenty Questions session with the guy who has the answers. Part of me wants to sit and stew over it to find another way to do it, but if I do, it will never get written. So I forge on. My internal editor is having a fit. This is a new kind of frustrating for me. I'm at the point where I pretty much know where I'm headed from here to the end, but I can't see a way to get there except by crappy, trite, boring writing. Which isn't fun. Grar.
Monday, April 08, 2002
I stumbled a bit over the weekend. I only wrote a half an hour on Saturday (for reasons not entirely my fault), and not at all yesterday (for reasons entirely my fault). This morning I didn't manage to drag myself out of bed in time to go write before work, but I made up for it tonight, picking up some threads on The Host again. I've learned to delibrately stop myself in the middle of a scene. That way when I go to sit down again, it's easier to build up momentum instead of staring at a finished scene and going, "What now?" Answered a few more unanswered questions I had about my own plot. The answers were the obvious ones that had been sitting patiently in the front row with their hands raised, waiting for me to call on them. I really missed my hour of writing this morning. I felt off all day because I'd missed it. I think this is a good sign.
Friday, April 05, 2002
Stalled on "Blue Lady". Utterly, utterly stalled. I know who the protagonists are, I know who the antagonist is, but I have no idea why they're opposed or how they'll act on it. So it's getting shelved for now. On the up end of things, though, I started a new story today based on an idea I had back in November. In the process of starting it, I realized that this story was set in the same coastal city as "Midsummer". Now, I liked the city I vaguely described in that story, it had a real shape in my head, one that made me happy. I thought about using one of the characters in other stories. Then when I started work on this story this morning (which has no title yet), I realized where it was set, and the city just started to come to life. The city's name is Harper, and it's set somewhere in the southeast, possibly North Carolina or South Carolina. It's a midsized sort of place, with maybe a small college. A favorite tourist spot, too. And there's all sorts of quirky little things going on behind the scenes that most ordinary people never see. :) Like selkies dancing on the shores. And muses brewing up ideas in coffeeshops. And gnomes printing quaint tomes of curious lore. I think I like it here.
Wednesday, April 03, 2002
The Dare continues. I've managed my hour everyday so far, and I'm actually enjoying my hour each morning. Did I say I thought I'd hit a wall on "Blue Lady"? Ha! And again I say, ha! No no. Today I hit a wall on it. I've reached a point where I have to decide what the final confrontation is and what it means. No more writing to stall. I think I'm going to have to wait and let my subconscious stew on it a bit more, because I'm not sure where it's going. So, I started reading over The Host, trying to remember where I was. This is really the first time I've read huge chunks of it, not counting when it was being written. I'm pleasantly surprised. The story seems to flow pretty well, and I still like my characters (what a relief!). I'm looking forward to diving back in, which I plan to do starting tomorrow morning. I also rejoined Critters today, partly on a whim. I sent in one critique, and dropped "Midsummer" into their queue of stories to be critiqued. I think doing more critiques will be good for me, analyzing what makes something work or not work. We'll see.
Monday, April 01, 2002
Well, I got the first day of the Dare off to a decent start. I wrote for an hour in Starbucks this morning, managing a slow 500+ words on "Blue Lady". The title is becoming more and more tentative, but I think the story is starting to take on a life of its own, maybe. Hopefully. I'm at the point where I'm hitting a wall on it, which probably means I'm about to have a breakthrough, but still... this is where the writing stops being fun. :P I'm giving it until the end of the week. If I'm not coasting by then, I'm switching to working on The Host again.
Friday, March 29, 2002
I've been thinking about my history as a writer. I've got more of one than I realized. I remember trying to write plays in elementary school, mostly because I wanted to stage them with my friends. I wrote my first 'real' story at the age of 11, a 20+ page handwritten tale about a high school band called Phoenix (imagine my pleasure when, many years later, I discovered a marvelous filk group called Phoenyx). It took me nine months to write, because even then I had horrific writing habits. My story was probably about on par with the Sweet Valley High books (which hadn't made their debut yet). It was trite, silly, and was written for the express purpose of having my heroine (who was an idealized version of how I wanted to be at 16) live a marvelous life where she had a great band, a great boyfriend, and got to sing for my idols, the rock band Journey. (Shut up.) Still, I finished it, and even envisioned a trilogy where things did not remain so idealistic. The first story, which was called "As the Nightingale Sings" (again: shut up), was all about how Phoenix got discovered and released their first hit. The second story, which mercifully remained untitled, was going to be about their rise to superstardom (Britney Spears eat your heart out), and third story was going to be about the perils of being a rock band. I planned to use some gritty subject matter in that one: one of the band members was going to develop a drug habit. When I finished the first story I was in seventh grade, and I did what any seventh grade brain would do with a finished story: I gave it to my English teacher to read. She was enthusiastic and encouraging and my need for approval was fed. A few other stories followed, including a science fiction story about a man with telekinetic powers who lived on a world where science was god, and so was exiled for the crime of having ESP. It was a pretty dark story for a 12 year old, complete with stoic heroes, dead girlfriends, rigged trials, prison planets, and a galactic uprising. Lest you think I was some sort of prodigy (cause I still think the idea was pretty cool), our hero died near the end, only to discover that it was (say it with me) "all just a dream!", after which he walked out his front door into a world where everybody had ESP. That one I gave to my eighth grade English teacher, and ran into my first experience with a real critique. I realize now that I didn't want a real critique, I wanted someone to fawn. Needless to say, I didn't take well to the perfectly valid criticism, and I never rewrote the story. (It wasn't until adulthood that I'd develop my tendency to edit to death.) I stopped writing fiction shortly after that. I'm not sure why. Too busy, I suppose, being a teenager and growing up. I still wrote poetry, usually angsty with all sorts of theatre metaphors, because I was a theatre geek. I had a few of them published in the annual high school "literary" magazine, which I think I still have somewhere. I remember them being pretty cringeworthy. It wasn't until I got seriously into RPGs that I started writing fiction again. I even startled myself and wrote a poem here not so long ago. I don't think I'm ready to share that one yet. It's funny, when I was a kid, I'd show my poetry to anyone in the world, but didn't even want to admit to writing stories. Now it's the other way around.
Right. "Rhythm of the Tides" is printed, packaged, and all set to be shipped off to Fantasy & Science Fiction. All it's waiting for is the correct postage. Yay me. Although, I just realized that I sealed the envelope and didn't stamp the SASE. D'oh. Good thing I have extra 9x12 envelopes.
Of course, to counterbalance all of the good writing vibes lately, I got a rejection this morning from Elysian Fiction. It was one of the good ones though, very personal and complimentary with an invitation to submit again. Now I'm not sure what to do with "Rhythm" though. Common sense tells me not to sit on it for long, because I'll end up not submitting it anywhere. However, the perfectionist in me wants to pull it back for another round of fine-tuning, or at least a round of making everybody read it again and tell me if it works. Huh. I'd submit it to Strange Horizons, but I already submitted "Ocean's Edge" to them originally, and I've got them on my list for "Midsummer" -- I'd hate to reveal the depths of my selkie obsession quite so soon, especially since I think with "Midsummer" I'm done with selkie stories for a while. Decisions, decisions... Maybe I'll bluesky it and send it off to one of the "great big" names...
Thursday, March 28, 2002
I finished it! I finished my first draft of "Midsummer" this morning! I'm very geeked about this. I think it's very good. Desperately in need of editing and revision, but good. I'm feeling very pleased with myself this morning. :)
Wednesday, March 27, 2002
I'm a little awed. There are currently eighteen people signed up for the April Hour-A-Day Dare. I think that's more people than I have on my journal notify list, for goodness sake. It's not like there's going to be much (or any) maintenance work on my part once we get started, so I'm not feeling all stressed or anything, I'm just amazed that I was part of an idea that that many people thought was a good one. It's very cool to read what folks have had to say on the blog so far. I love hearing from other writers about what they do and how they do it. I managed to get up and out of the house to write again this morning. To my surprise, my best writing happens in the morning! Odd, since I never considered myself a morning person. Maybe I'm not a morning person because my head isn't fully in touch with the outside world in the morning -- but since I'm still dreaming awake, that makes my morning writing better? In any case, it's a very pleasant way to start the day. I'd like to keep this up. I should have a finished first draft of "Midsummer" here in the next day or so.
Tuesday, March 26, 2002
I said something extremely telling to Julie this morning. First of all, I'm all geeked at myself. As a precursor to April, I wrote for an hour when I got home from work last night, and was amazed at how much I got done. Then, I managed to get myself up and out and at Starbucks with my laptop by 7:30, which gave me about half an hour or so to write, and again, I was amazed at my productivity. Now, as to the aforementioned comment. Last Thursday at Write Club, I randomly created a supporting character for "Midsummer" and threw her in there, just to give one of the main characters someone to play off. She was supposed to just be an outside witness to the events of the story. Then this morning, the REAL ending of the story hit me, and I realized how everything ties together -- I cannot express how much I adore that moment. That moment is what keeps me writing. It's a high I can't describe, this great big glowing feeling of RIGHT that sits and shimmers in the center of my brain. The real ending, of course, makes my random supporting character a central figure and a symbol that fits right into the myth I'm working with in the story. While telling Julie about this, I said, "I should have known better. My subconscious knows what it's doing." Julie called it a writer's mantra. I think she's right.
Monday, March 25, 2002
Well, we really did it. Things are getting downright official for the Hour-A-Day Dare. Don't believe me? Go here. Interested in joining us? Then comment here or email me. :)
Thursday, March 21, 2002
Not much writing happened at Write Club tonight, but then, after not seeing Julie for about three weeks, and being too busy to chat much at work, is it any wonder we spent most of the evening gabbing? Still, she finished some edits and I kickstarted myself again on "Midsummer". And we made a deal, a deal that scares the crap out of me. I was telling her about how my friend Eric (former co-worker and aspiring horror writer) writes for an hour in the morning before work and then another hour in the evenings. We oohed and aahed over his dedication, then both wished we could do the same. "Tell you what," said Julie, in a voice that should have caused me to flee right there, "how about we make a deal to write for an hour every day in April." I wavered. But agreed. We shook on it. So, every day in April, I will write for one hour a day. No word count requirements, but if I'm honest with myself, I know the difference between writing for an hour and staring at a computer for an hour. One hour a day. No excuses, no skipping one day and writing two hours the next, but one hour a day. If anybody else would like to join in this little pledge, let me know. Maybe we can give it a spiffy title, or at least offer support to each other. :) And if nothing else, I can reassure myself that Julie and I are not utterly insane.
Monday, March 18, 2002
Timetable of shame: 6:30: I get home from work, planning to eat dinner and then spend the evening working on "Midsummer". 7:00: I finish eating, but Buffy's on. Okay, I'll write at 8. 8:00: Right. Time to get to work. Now, I'll just surf my way out to one of my spiffy digital music channels for some background music... oh wait. Ooh, E! True Hollywood Story is all about the Cosby Kids. I'll just watch part of it... 9:00: E! True Hollywood Story: The Facts of Life Girls. Oh, I am so gone. Is it so wrong that I loved that show? *sigh* Maybe at 10? Or maybe tomorrow? Oy, TV is evil. Maybe I'll go somewhere after work tomorrow and write. Or I'll leave the TV off completely. Excuse me, I'm going to go hide my face for shame...
Yesterday, while I was sitting at home doing absolutely nothing, I managed to catch the last hour of The Secret of Roan Inish, one of my most favorite movies ever. Now, I own it on videotape, but it's always cool to see movies you love being broadcast. Anyway, it's a movie about a little girl in Ireland in the 1940s, trying to find out the truth about her family history. She learns, to no one's surprise who's read anything about the movie, that family legend says they are descended from selkies. The rest of the movie is spent determining the truth of the legend. (Aha, I hear you all saying, now we know Lisa's interest in this movie!) One of the absolute best parts of the movie -- and what I tuned in just in time to see -- is a retelling of the family legend to Fiona (the little girl) by Tadhg, one of the odd members of the family. With Tadhg's voiceover, we see their ancestor first spying on and then stealing the skin from a selkie. It's a breathtaking sequence, following the main selkie legend (man steals skin, marries selkie, selkie's child tells mother where skin is hidden, selkie returns to the sea) completely and fitting it into the story of this family. The casting here is perfect, and combined with the poetic voiceover, got me inspired to pick up "Midsummer" again, yet another one of my selkie stories -- this one not inspired in any way by any roleplaying character I've had. I'm stuck with it. Parts of it are lovely, but I have several lovely passages with nothing connecting them. I can't decide what the real point to the story is. I'm debating shelving The Host again, to finish this story; heck, to finish something.
Friday, March 15, 2002
Well, it's official. I am no longer working on Stirring the Shadows for Tribe 8. It's a dead project. At first I felt guilty for resigning, now I'm hearing all sorts of rumors and signs that it might not have ever seen print anyway. Time to move on to another project. As soon as I'm over this death plague that has me in its foul, congested grasp, I plan to go back to finishing up The Host.
Friday, March 08, 2002
Alas, no Write Club (hee, that cracks me up) this week. Julie and I were both half-dead after work yesterday. Not much writing, either. Not enough, anyway. I celebrated my new deadline by slacking up a storm. Of course, having a new cat in the house isn't helping either. This weekend though. This weekend I will write, a lot! In very very sad news, my editor from DP9, Hilary, resigned. It's still undecided if she'll stay on and freelance edit Shadows, but I sure hope she does. I want to work with her one more time.
Friday, March 01, 2002
So I'm wondering, are there rules for Writing Club? ;) Writing Club was a good thing for me tonight, cause I got a kick in the butt to get back to work. :) It's worth noting that I have an extension on my deadline -- it's now March 25th, which means I won't die trying to finish this thing. Whew.
Saturday, February 23, 2002
I'm blasting along today. I seem to have found the mental equivalent of prune juice, cause baby I am no longer blocked. About 4,000 words so far today, and I'm not done yet. I'm shooting for 10,000 this weekend, and it's within my reach, if I don't let up now.
Thursday, February 21, 2002
There's a reason the word count hasn't been updated in days. It's not a pretty one. Every night I go home, ready and eager to write, and then I sit down and stare at the screen. And stare. And write a few words. Then delete half of them. And stare some more until frustration takes over and I think, "Oh hell with it. I'm done for tonight." My deadline is in nineteen days. I still have approximately 40,000 words to do. That scares me to death, and that fear is what is making it nigh-impossible to write. With NaNoWriMo, I could just blast out words, because I could tell myself that no one else was going to read it, so it didn't matter if it sucked. Well, here it matters if it sucks. I mean yeah, it can be edited, but still. Argh. I gotta quit psyching myself out.
Monday, February 18, 2002
Chapter one is finished! That's the good news. The bad news is that I'm about 10,000 words behind projected word count right now. My original idea was to shoot for 3,000 words a night for the rest of the week to stay caught up (butbutbut, the women's figure skating events are this week, wah!), but I dunno if that will work. I'll be happy with 2,000, and I'll make up the rest on the weekend. Oh yeah, the other good news is that I like where things are going right now. Unfortunately, since I'm not writing this entirely for me (and since my contract includes various non-disclosure stuff), I can't go into any more detail than that.
Wednesday, February 13, 2002
Yes, I know. The word count is pitiful. Julie and I got started swapping gaming stories tonight, so neither of us got a whole lot of writing done, I'm afraid. Um, it was fun though?
Tuesday, February 12, 2002
Well, the final title for Memory's Price is Stirring the Shadows. And I'm already waaaay behind on the manuscript -- but the outline is finally done! Blame figure skating, I swear.
Friday, February 08, 2002
I have another tentative title for Memory, but I'm going to wait and see if the editor okays it before posting it here. I do not, however, have a completed outline at this point. I have everything finished but for the last chapter, which is in skeleton form. I think I'm going to have to wait until tonight after work to clothe said skeleton. My brain died about 30 minutes ago, and I have to be at work in 5 hours. Time for me to sleep.
Thursday, February 07, 2002
Wow. I managed a thousand words on the outline tonight, without even breaking a sweat and while alternating writing with chatting with Julie. That sounds promising! The fiction bit of the outline is nearly finished. I have two chapters left to outline, then the real fun begins.
Wednesday, February 06, 2002
I am SUCH a freaking loon. Due to a serious miscalculation on my part (i.e., 80 pages does NOT equal 80,000 words!), it turns out I only have to do 1500 words per day to make my deadline. My editor now thinks I'm a lunatic, I know it.
Tuesday, February 05, 2002
Well, I got the contract today for Memory's Price. Still no definite title. The deadline for the first draft is March 11. What this means, is that if I finish the outline by Friday, I'll have to write 2500 words a day to make the deadline. NaNoWriMo II. I'm more than a little nervous about making this one, but I'm going to do my damnedest.
Sunday, February 03, 2002
I spent a good part of the weekend working on my outline, but at this point I'm still only about halfway done, due to a conspiracy between Mother Nature and a migraine this morning. (Mother Nature, it should be noted, had it in for my car, and dropped a tree on it on Thursday night.) I'm feeling a little frustrated and overwhelmed at this point, thinking about going to bed.
Wednesday, January 30, 2002
I could have posted this, stolen from Julie, here, under the title "The Same Thing Happens Every Night". It's so, so true.
Monday, January 28, 2002
Ugh! I am such a slacker! Slack, slack, slack, that's me. Did I do any outlining this weekend? No, of course not. As I told Julie, on Saturday I got ambushed by housework and my new DVD player (I got it for Christmas, and just got it working on Friday) -- well okay, and a little bit of EverQuest, too. Then on Sunday, when I was going to chain myself to my computer, I woke up with a migraine that wouldn't go away all day, so I ended up lying on the couch and whimpering a little -- although I did get my laundry done too. On the good side of things, "The 10th Kingdom" was better than I thought it was going to be. Well, the first disk, at least. I won't have the second disk until next week sometime. I think NetFlix will be the death of me. Tonight, writing!
Friday, January 25, 2002
After a burst of common sense, I took The Host off my list of projects for Jan/Feb. There's just no way I'll have time to do more than one project.
Well, it's safe to say that neither Julie nor I got much writing done last night, but she helped me brainstorm huge portions of Memory's Price (and hey, that might even be the title after all). I have a roadmap by which I might be able to outline the darn thing this weekend. Whee! The only cruddy thing about getting together with Julie last night was that Starbucks closed at 10. How crappy is that?
Thursday, January 24, 2002
Ah, it's good to be back. Excerpts from an AIM conversation: naiad: I just want to do something. I've been so slack on my writing, and I don't even have a good excuse like you do! lisa: Heh. The good excuse doesn't hold a lot of water. Just a couple of ounces. ;-) naiad: Better than that ring left behind by evaporation. :-)First writing meeting with Julie tonight. Yay!
Monday, December 17, 2001
I have to steal this quote from Holly Lisle's weblog: "English doesn't borrow from other languages - English follows other languages down dark alleys, knocks them over and goes through their pockets for loose grammar." Holly is apparently a professional novelist who's worked with the likes of Marion Zimmer Bradley and Mercedes Lackey. And somehow I've managed to overlook her. Go read her blog though. It's fun to see how a professional goes through the writing process too. I'm glad I'm not the only one focusing on word counts!
Saturday, December 15, 2001
Aha! Finally a decent writing day. I've done about 2500 words today on various projects, and hope to do more this evening. I was starting to get a little worried there. There's been another major plot development in The Host, and this may be the one that lets me wrap up all the loose ends. Whee!
Monday, December 10, 2001
Well, the phones were down all day at work so I got another 1,400 words or so done on The Host. I admit, I crashed and burned last week. I was suffering from severe burnout and probably a small case of post-NaNo blues to go with it. I'm a little better now. I'll be better still once this semester is over and not hanging over my head anymore. Bleah.
Wednesday, December 05, 2001
Okay, so I'm not doing so great with the average word count right now. It's been a long, difficult week. (Yes, I know it's only Wednesday.) I did, however, finally bite the bullet and submit "Rhythm of the Tides" to Elysian Fiction magazine. Go me. (I also managed to get my final paper for one of my lit classes thought out and outlined too -- good thing too, it's due on Saturday.)
Sunday, December 02, 2001
I got to meet Julie tonight. She introduced me to sushi and we had a great time chatting. I love it when someone who's great to talk to online turns out to be great in real life too. But, be afraid when two writers get together. I have to admit, it kicked all the ass to be able to sit in a sushi bar in Ann Arbor and talk about our novels. :) It turns out we'd both brought our written manuscripts with us. As I said, it didn't feel right to celebrate their existence without having them there. Neither of us really read them, they just sat on the table so we could see them. So, for December, I've changed my goals a bit. I want to write an average of 1,000 words a day. Ideally, I'd like to write that much everyday, but I'm a realist, so I figure the average will work. Keeping track of how much writing I'd done in November was a good motivator, so I'm going to keep doing it. It was kinda like having a personal trainer. "C'mon! You can do another five hundred words! Keep working! Feel the burn!" Lots of stuff to edit this month too. Ideally, I want to have all of the manuscripts on that list edited and submitted by the end of the month.
Friday, November 30, 2001
Go take a look at the NaNoWriMo winners. Go on. I'll wait here. There are some great titles there. I think my favorites are "The Undeleted Email of Joan of Arc", "A Happy Tale of World Conquest and Band Nerds" (a novel about band nerds! That rocks!), and "A Length of Chain, a Jug of Ale, and Thou". I'm still glowing. :) I took the night off last night and just sorta futzed around on the computer. To my surprise, I found that I missed writing. Alas, tonight is a homework night.
Thursday, November 29, 2001
I DID IT! 50,020 If you heard a piercing shriek coming from southeastern Michigan, that was me. The story's not done yet, but I will have a first draft finished before the end of December.
Wednesday, November 28, 2001
Scream with me, children. I'm now 1774 words away from crossing the finish line. I may actually manage it tonight. If not tonight, then definitely tomorrow night.
Inspiration came and smacked me upside the head while I was trying to sleep. All the loose ends of my story neatly tied themselves up and presented themselves to me as a wrapped package inside my head, so I'm going to try and capture some of that.
Tuesday, November 27, 2001
Not a lot done tonight, but I'm still ahead of the game. At this rate, I think I'll finish on Thursday. Well, finish as in reach 50K.
Natalie Goldberg to the rescue: "Anything we fully do is an alone journey. No matter how happy your friends may be for you, how much they support you, you can't expect anyone to match the intensity of your emotions or to completely understand what you went through. This is not sour grapes. You are alone when you write a book. Accept that and take in any love and support that is given to you, but don't have expectations of how it is supposed to be." I do love my friends, new and old, writing and non-writing, NaNo-ing and non-NaNo-ing. Y'all are a patient bunch and I appreciate every scrap of good feeling that's come my way this month.
I got email from a friend this morning gently pointing out that I've been a self-absorbed brat all month. And he's right, I have. I've acted as if this book is not only the most important thing in my world, but in the world, and frankly I'm surprised that my non-Nano friends haven't kicked me in the teeth before now. I made the mistake of thinking that absolutely everybody gave a shit whether I wrote a novel or not. Now I feel a little at sea, recognizing the truth. I feel like I owe an enormous apology to anyone who knows me. Suddenly whether or not I reach 50,000 by Friday doesn't seem to matter nearly as much as whether or not I'll still have some of my friends by then as well. I'm sorry, guys.
Monday, November 26, 2001
Another 2,000 words. I am now officially a full day ahead of schedule. Woohoo! This generic "Arthricream" stuff is the only reason I was able to write tonight, I think. My hands and arms are aching. I'm about to go fall into bed, but here's tonight's excerpt. Is it love, or stalking? David still sounded strange as he settled onto the grass next to her. "So what'd you do last night?" "Not much," A.J. said. "I did some homework, then went to bed early." "Ah," David said, still speaking with someone else's voice. "David? Is something wrong?" "Oh no," David said. "Nothing at all. I was just worried about you." "Worried about me? Why?" "I came by at about nine and you didn't answer the door. I figured you weren't there." "Oh," said A.J. "I was probably asleep." David didn't say anything for a moment, then he sighed. "A.J., you don't have to lie to me. I mean, we didn't really have anything going on. It was just one kiss and--" "David, what on earth are you talking about?" He raised his eyes to meet hers. "I was worried about you last night. I was afraid it might have been like that day you slept all day. So I… climbed the tree outside your bedroom window." "You what?" It took A.J. a moment to move from puzzled to incredulous. "I was worried," David repeated. "So I climbed the tree outside your window. A.J., I know you weren't there. You weren't in your bed."
Sunday, November 25, 2001
I wrote over 7,000 words today. I'm a little awed by that. Not only am I now caught up, but I'm about a thousand words ahead of schedule. This is a good thing, because starting tomorrow I'm working ten hour days. The scary thing is to realize that in another 7,000 words, the amount I wrote today, I'll have reached 50,000! Sara and A.J. met each other tonight, and what an eventful meeting it was! I couldn't type fast enough to keep up with them. Of course, now my fingers feel like they're going to fall off. Here's an excerpt from earlier today, Sara again. She's just more interesting to excerpt than anyone else, apparently. Once back in her room, Sara fell into a deep sleep almost immediately, a combined result of the long day and the beer she'd had. For the first time since leaving the Institute she dreamed of the crying baby that always showed up in her pictures. She was washing dishes at the truck stop, and above the noise of the cooks and truckers outside, she heard the sound of a baby. At first she just figured it was one of the customers' children, but the sound went on and on, and grew in intensity until the cries were drilling into her skull. Sara stopped washing dishes and started looking for the child. When she looked into the dining room, there were no children to be seen at all, and the sound seemed to get fainter, coming from behind her. Turning back to the kitchen, the angry cries grew louder, as if the child was impatient for Sara to find it. In the confused manner of dreams, Sara began looking in the cupboards, pushing aside institutional-sized cans of green beans and tomatoes. Part of her mind went back to her drawings of the infant and his often surreal surroundings. Finally after looking in all of the cupboards and under all of the sinks, Sara made her way back to the walk-in refrigerator on the other side of the kitchen. She swung open the door, expecting a cold rush of air to wash over her in a wave of white frost. Instead the scent of loam and green life filled her nostrils. Sara looked closer, and where shelves of salad vegetables and defrosting meat and open cans of ketchup and mayonnaise should be was instead a deep, growing forest framed by the stainless steel doorway. From the depths of the forest, she could hear the infant crying louder, as if letting her know she was getting closer. "Sara, Sara, Sara," Eochaid's cold voice sounded behind her, gently reproachful. "There's nothing there for you." Sara whirled to find her surroundings changed once more. Instead of the truck stop of her dream, she was standing in the white room with Eochaid towering before her. She glanced behind her, but the doorway to the forest was gone.
Julie made it to 50,000! Go, writing buddy, go! Now I'm truly inspired. Time to dive back into my own manuscript! Wright and his partner are off looking for Sara, in hopes that she can help them solve a missing persons case. She can, but she doesn't know it yet. :)
FORTY THOUSAND WORDS! Even with the turkey and the nap, I am rocking and rolling today. I have an offer for a date tonight. I'm tempted to take it, but I'm afraid to give up the momentum I've got going on now. This is how much of a writer geek I am. Note: Expect more exclamation points and words in all caps as I get closer and closer to 50K and finished (which, I have a feeling, will not be one and the same). I am now just one day behind in my word count, but I want to get ahead as much as I can tonight, because this week will be the week from hell. Mandatory OT starts at work this week, gearing up for busy season.
I gotta stop eating turkey sandwiches for lunch. Turkey for lunch, then I sit back down to write and end up taking a two hour nap instead. Gah!
My god. I see the light at the end of the tunnel. Literally. I have about 14,000 more words to write, and as of this morning I have two handwritten pages of notes that contain the end of my novel. I now know how the story ends! This is such a rush. I'm about ready to go bouncing out of my chair. Everything has fallen into place and makes an almost coherent picture! I'm already recognizing flaws in what I've already written, and things I will need to rewrite or elaborate on, but that's for the edit. For now, this story is almost complete in my mind and on my screen, and all that remain after that are finishing touches and decoration. HALLELUJAH!
Saturday, November 24, 2001
After managing 2500 words last night, and 4000 words today, I'm only about 4000 words behind schedule. I should be able to catch that up this weekend. I think I'm actually going to make this! Another excerpt of Sara again, talking to the same one of the Host as before. He has a name now, but I think I'll keep that information to myself for now. The silver-haired one chuckled. "It is interesting, is it not, that your own kind shut you away from the world when you told them about us. Why do you suppose that is?" "They didn't believe me," Sara said. "They thought I was insane. People who believe in aliens usually are considered a little insane. People who say they've met them are considered a little more insane." "Yet you were telling the truth, and I doubt you are insane. Why do you think they did not believe you?" Sara glanced down at her bound feet and hands. "Look, this conversation would be a lot easier to have if I could sit up, maybe?" The silver-haired one watched her for a moment with amusement. "I do not believe you will harm anything if you are free." He pressed a few buttons in a console set into the wall, and her bonds fell away. Sara sat up, rubbing her wrists gingerly. "There," he said. "That's much better, isn't it? Much more civilized, I think." "Well, as civilized as kidnapping and torture can be, sure," Sara retorted, and then felt a moment of fear after she spoke. "One does what one can," her captor smiled. "Now. I believe we were speaking of your people's lack of belief."
Thursday, November 22, 2001
This Thanksgiving I am grateful for two very important things: having a four day weekend in which to write, and reaching 30,000 words! Yay!
Wednesday, November 21, 2001
Tuesday, November 20, 2001
Hanging in there. Waiting for this weekend. The words are coming out of me one at a time; I'm dragging them out with a winch and chain at times, it feels like. I'm about 6,000 words behind, but I can still catch up. I wrote my way past my block tonight, and started tossing in some notes about the next couple of chapters.
Not a whole lot going on last night. I managed something like 200 words. For the first time, I got stuck. The words I did write were mostly chapter synopses of chapters to come. I'm starting to get a little overwhelmed by the wholeness of my story. It might just be because I'm tired, I don't know. I did, however, start editing some other pieces. I worked on "Rhythm" some last night, trying to get it ready for a new submission. I also started editing some personal essays, for submission to a book about "generation X". Hey, if I'm going to procrastinate, I may as well procrastinate by writing, right?
Sunday, November 18, 2001
Aha. The plot thickens -- literally! Two of my plotlines finally started to converge of their own free will. This excerpt is linked to the one below: As Sara watched, the wall in front of her dissolved into transparency. There she saw another table similar to the one to which she was strapped. Writhing on the table was another girl, maybe about her age. Horrified and confused, Sara watched the girl scream as the needles and electrodes extracted whatever it was the Host "needed" from their victims. Why were they showing her this? She tried to close her eyes, but the screams still filled her head, and that was somehow worse. So she watched while the nameless victim, pale and a little plump, with dark hair that fell into her face, twitched and cried. Finally she saw the silver-haired one step forward and she heard him say, "Enough." The girl fell limp and the wall darkened and solidified once more. "What is different about that girl?" The words came in the coldest voice Sara had ever heard, a voice that threatened to frost her veins and freeze her heart. She looked over and saw one of the Host, this one with radiant golden hair and a cruelly beautiful smile. With the gray pallor of his skin, he looked like nothing so much as an exquisite corpse. "Wh-What?" He gave a patient smile and spoke again, as if speaking to a child. "That girl. There is something different about her. What is it?" I only managed about 1,000 words tonight. I'm still 4,000 words behind schedule, but there's still Thanksgiving weekend!
Halfway there! I just crossed the halfway point of 25,000 words. I ended up spending Friday on my own, away from everyone and everything, taking a much needed sanity day -- a sanity day in the truest sense of the word. It did wonders, and Saturday did even more. I didn't write anything yesterday, but I went to class, went and saw Harry Potter, and then went to a concert that completely re-energized me mentally and spiritually. So today, I'm writing. It feels good to be back.
Friday, November 16, 2001
I am bone-tired today. I woke up at 5:30 and got a little bit of writing done, but not enough. As of right now, I'm about 3,600 words behind. I don't know how much writing I'll get done today, because I have a metric shitload of homework to do tonight. Tomorrow is mostly shot as well, since I'm going to see Harry Potter after class, then going to see Sweet Honey in the Rock tomorrow night. Sunday. I'm clinging to the idea of spending all of Sunday writing. Then there's always Thanksgiving weekend. I'm locking myself in my room for at least two days of that weekend (or maybe locking myself out of my room, depending on where the vibe feels best). I can still catch up, I know I can, but god, am I tired. I spent a good part of last night (after I got home) in weepy mode. I felt confined and angry and a little lost -- normally, I'd say this belonged in my other journal, but it was writing-related. I seriously resented my job last night, because I felt like it was taking away the best of me and leaving me with little to spend on the best parts of my life. I want nothing more than to blow off work for about a week and retreat somewhere with a laptop, some music, and a food supply. And maybe a bathroom. Feh. Okay, so, an excerpt. This is from this morning's writing: The room was empty. Directly overhead, however, was a brilliant light shining from something that looked vaguely like a dentist's lamp. It was angled just precisely to keep from blinding her, but instead held her in a circle of light surrounded by shadow. There was a short humming from above, and the worlds crashed through her once more. She felt a deep pulling sensation within her, as if her veins were being slowly drained dry, but she could see no needles in her skin. She received a glimpse of each of the worlds that slammed through her mind: a green forest, remarkably like the one from her dreams of the infant; a dimly lit cavern, filled with humanoid creatures perhaps about three feet tall -- her first thought was of goblins; a windswept hill where tall, exotic figures dressed in colors brilliant beyond describing danced in a circle around a fire; a rocky beach where beautiful dark-eyed women, wearing only their milk-white skins, chased one another and laughed like children. Then the visions grew stranger still, showing her scenes similar to the first ones, but regularly interspersed with images of frightening creatures: tall, thin, gray creatures with empty black eyes, many-tentacled horrors menacing a small village, a hulking brute with what looked like blood running down the sides of its face gnawing what looked sickeningly like a human leg -- each vision took a part of her, pulling it away like prying treasure from cold, dead fingers. She screamed and screamed until a voice somewhere overhead said, "Enough." When she opened her eyes, she realized she was no longer alone in the room. Just outside of the circle of light, there stood a tall, slender figure whose face she could not see. It reached for her with a hand that was mind-bendingly wrong. The fingers were too long, too slender, had too many joints. It looked more like a pale spider than a hand. She shrank back from the hand, her body trembling violently.
Thursday, November 15, 2001
How not to spend the evening writing: First, after work, go straight to the bookstore. Browse for about an hour. Buy a couple books on writing. Then, go out to dinner. Stuff yourself silly. Don't go home until 9pm, and then bitterly rant at yourself all the way home, because you know you're too stuffed and too tired to think about writing. Come home and feel like a slug and whine a lot online. Voila! Follow those steps, and I guarantee you will not write word one that evening!
Well. If you're visiting from the Meet the Wrimo page (and my god, there's a lot of you!), hello and welcome! There's more substantial stuff at my journal section. Stick around! ;)
Just looking over the NaNoWriMo word count pages, I see that there are already a handful of people who have reached 50,000 words. Jeez, talk about your overachievers!
Wednesday, November 14, 2001
Okay, so not so much with the writing today. I'm really tired tonight for some reason (SOME reason, like maybe staying up until midnight all the time lately), so I'm going to crash early tonight and start fresh tomorrow!
Quick! Today only, I'm the Wrimo of the Day! Hurry! Or if you're visiting after the 14th, go here and look up November 14th.
Tuesday, November 13, 2001
Still on track, barely. I wrote pages and pages of banal, banal crap today, including the geekiest conversation in existence. I think it fits the characters though. Here are David and A.J., the day after a very tentative and hesitant first kiss: Then there was silence, broken only by the icemaker dropping an ice cube now and then, and the sound of Persephone eating a very late breakfast. The silence stretched and bloated until it filled the room. Finally David broke it. "Look, A.J., about last night--" At the same time, A.J. started, "David, I wanted to--" She smiled. "You first." David looked intensely uncomfortable, but cleared his throat and tried again. "Well, I didn't want you to be upset or anything about last night." "Oh! No, I wasn't," A.J. said. "Good, cause you know, I didn't want you to be mad at me or anything." "I'm not," A.J. said. "Honestly." "Good," David said. There was another moment of silence. "What were you going to say?" A.J. smiled sheepishly. "Just that I didn't want you to be upset about last night." David laughed, and some of the tension melted away. "We're really pitiful, aren't we?" A.J. nodded. "I think so." "Want to go get dinner?"
Monday, November 12, 2001
I am finally caught up! I passed the 20,000 word mark tonight, and am currently about 200 words ahead of schedule. Woohoo! Still writing about Sara, although I think this chapter is the last we'll see of her for a while. Here's an excerpt from your average, everyday party at a mental institution: "So Sara," Mrs. Carey, an elegant, pulled-together older version of her daughter, smiled, "Suzanne tells us you're an artist." Sara was caught with a mouthful of fruit salad. She quickly swallowed and wiped her mouth, "Well no, not exactly. I mean, I draw a little bit, but I don't know if I'd call myself an artist, exactly." "Bullshit," interjected Suzanne. "I've seen those baby pictures you're always doing. Those are really good." "Baby pictures?" Janet had a faintly acquisitive gleam in her eye, one that made Sara infinitely glad she was leaving that afternoon. "Yeah," continued Suzanne. "She draws these really surreal pictures of babies, sort of hiding in all sorts of places. It's neat." "It's… a hobby, I guess," said Sara lamely. "I imagine you have time for a lot of hobbies," began Mr. Carey, and then he stopped, just short of making a faux pas. Sara made it for him. "You mean since we're in a nut house?" She was grinning. If her plans for the day were going to get rained out, she may as well enjoy herself while she could. Suzanne and Janet laughed, but their families looked slightly scandalized and intensely uncomfortable. "Well no," stumbled Mr. Carey, "that wasn't what I meant at all…" "It's okay, Mr. Carey," piped up Janet. "We know we're crazy. It doesn't bother us, really."
Sunday, November 11, 2001
My wrists hurt, my brain hurts, and my fingers hurt, but by god, I'm now up over 18,000 words. I wrote nearly 7,000 words in the last two days, about 5,100 of that today. I feel damn GOOD. Lara (one of my MUSH buddies and another Nano'er) and I have been comparing notes today, even to the point of exchanging manuscripts. She liked it! It was good to know that I'm managing to get across what I want to get across. I think I'm going to go fall into bed now. Another short excerpt from this evening's writing. Sara again. She's really taking off in my mind, and I like her a hell of a lot. Here she's been taken by the Host, and is demanding to be released: "Why should we?" He spoke in perfect, unaccented English, his voice clear and reasonable-sounding, even pleasant. Sara was taken aback and couldn't answer at first. They'd never spoken directly to her before. "Because! This… this isn't right." "On the contrary, it suits our needs more than adequately." "Your needs?" Sara could feel the anger rising up in her again. "I've been a prisoner for two years! Everyone who knows me thinks I'm crazy and that you're just a figment of my diseased imagination. Fuck your needs!" He stood watching her for a moment, his head tilted slightly to one side. "Interesting," was his only comment. He turned away from Sara and went back to the group. There was a quiet buzzing conversation punctuated by the waving of hands and blinking of eyes. "Interesting?! Interesting?!" Sara's anger was quickly growing to outrage. "Look, just let me go. Come back and get me tomorrow night. Stick me with needles, whatever. I promise I'll be properly terrified." The orange haired one turned around to face her again. "You still haven't explained why we should disrupt our plans to suit you." Sara thought for a long moment. "Because otherwise I'll die," she said finally. "If I stay in that place much longer, I'll wither and die, and then I won't be of any use to you or anyone else." "Possible," he said, "but a bit melodramatic, don't you think?" "No, it's not," Sara said. This was quite possibly the most surreal moment of her life. A creature from another planet just called her melodramatic.
Whew. I've written something like 5200 words this weekend, but I'm still about 1900 behind. I'm going to try and catch up tonight. I think I can do it, or at least I can come damn close. Here's an excerpt, written last night: The pair stood on the top of the small hill. Crowning the hill was an almost perfect circle of pine trees, leaving a needle-covered clearing in the center about ten feet in diameter. The moonlight shone down into the clearing like sunlight streaming through cathedral windows, light touching holy ground. That sense of the sacred was strong here; many who visited the place noticed it. Some called it peaceful, others called it spiritual, still others said it was otherworldly. Very few saw it for what it really was. The circle of pines was something of an oddity, its shape almost perfect enough to have been designed. A.J. somewhat abashedly let go of David's hand, and crossed the circle, the moonlight silvering her hair and silhouetting her figure as she moved. Here she moved with a grace she would have thought herself incapable of, and would have laughed had she been told of it. She turned and grinned at David. "Well? Was I right?" David nodded. "You were right. It's amazing." "You're not just humoring me?" "No. No, absolutely not," David answered distractedly, caught up in looking around. Although there had been no wind all evening, the breeze on top of the hill was gentle and constant, whispering with the pines in a language A.J. could almost understand. The last time she'd been here she'd been alone, and the quiet sanctity of the circle had both thrilled and unnerved her. Now with David here, the unnerving aspects were gone. "...find this place?" David was asking. "Hm?" A.J. glanced away from the full moon overhead and back to David. "How'd you find this place?" "Oh. I dunno, I just went for a walk one night last month and wound up here. It was like..." A.J. stopped. "Like what?" David pressed. "Never mind, it's stupid." "No, what?" "Well," A.J. sighed, "it almost felt like I was drawn here."
Saturday, November 10, 2001
"Critics have argued that too close attention to style was harmful to the sweep necessary to fiction: they have contended that many of the greatest novelists, such as Dickens, Balzac, Dostoyevsky, and Zola at times wrote badly; assuredly, they treated language carelessly more than once." Brand showed me the above quote, but didn't have a source. It makes me feel all kinds of better. No, I didn't write a word yesterday, but I'm gearing up for some serious writing this weekend.
Friday, November 09, 2001
Couldn't get to Blogger last night, hence, no post. Yesterday was another low word count day, but the good news is I did some homework and got a good night's sleep for a change. I have a lot of writing to catch up this weekend. :P Another short excerpt about Sara, who's seems to be going from minor character to major character. Mealtimes were one time when the Retreat's real mission was most apparent. Meals were never perfectly ordinary times. The residents either ate in stultifying silence, or there was some outburst or another to remind everyone there that they were among the Unwell. And even when there were no outbursts, there were always the little plastic cups with their bright, colorful pills. When she first came to the Retreat, Sara had managed to palm her pills for the first several weeks, then Eleanor had caught her flushing them down the toilet, and the staff had watched her close ever since. After swallowing a bowlful of thick, sweet oatmeal with cream (and not tasting a bite in the process), Sara gulped her morning medication under the orderly's watchful eye and hurried back to her room. An hour. An hour before the quiet drowsy hum overtook her mind. Pulling her sketchbook and pencils from under her bed, Sara flopped to the mattress, pushing her pillows behind her to use as a backrest. The images came, as they always did. A fat baby boy, mouth open in an angry wail, cheeks red and wet. His tiny fists were balled in his fury, the curves flowing from the tips of her pencils. Sara had seen him in her mind's eye a thousand times, and drawn him dozens of times. What her psychiatrists made of her drawings of this single unknown infant she sometimes wondered. Expressing her wounded inner child, they probably told each other. While the infant was the constant, his surroundings in the pictures were constantly in flux. The settings for these portraits varied from the mundane to the surreal, a playpen one time, the top of a bell tower the next. What mattered to Sara was not so much the pictures themselves, but the sense of connection she felt when drawing them. With her pencils in hand, she felt a part of the whole, a piece in a larger puzzle. That connected feeling never lasted long enough though, and while she was shading the background of the picture (this time the setting was a flower vendor's pushcart, angry infant perched in among roses and daisies like an Anne Geddes portrait gone horribly wrong), Sara felt the connection snap, the shift so sudden it was almost audible. With that change, any sense of purpose, any sense of the rightness of holding a pencil in hand, was gone. This crying baby keeps showing up, in dreams and in Sara's pictures. I know who he is, but I have no earthly idea why he keeps showing up. Guess I'll have to keep writing to see! :)
Thursday, November 08, 2001
Okay, so I didn't get much done last night. There's always today! Julie reminded me of the other thing I did last night: organize my NaNoWriMo playlist. Mine's divided up into two categories, music that just makes me feel happy so I write faster, and music that reminds me of various aspects of my story. Songs marked with a * are songs that are definitely plot/character related already. Happy music: Asia: "Heat of the Moment" Culture Club: "Church of the Poison Mind" Donnie Iris: "Ah! Leah!" Harry Belafonte: "Jump in The Line" Indigo Girls: "Tangled Up In Blue", "Closer To Fine" Les Miserables: "Do You Hear The People Sing?", "One Day More" Once On This Island: "Why We Tell The Story" Rent: "Seasons of Love", "What you Own", "La Vie Boheme" REO Speedwagon: "Time For Me To Fly" Styx: "Too Much Time on my Hands", "Show Me the Way" Story/mood music: Heather Alexander: "Creature of the Wood"*, "Something Dark", "Stolen Child"*, "Faerie Queen" Cure: "Burn"* Indigo Girls: "Blood And Fire" Journey: "Wheel In The Sky" KMFDM: "Juke-Joint Jezebel" Mission UK: "Serpent's Kiss", "Deliverance"*, "Butterfly on a Wheel" Mozart Requiem: "Rex tremendae", "Confutatis", "Lacrimosa" Nields: "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry" Nine Inch Nails: "Terrible Lie", "Down In It", "Something I Can Never Have", "The Only Time" Ozzy Osbourne: "No More Tears" Phoenyx: "Voices of the Sea", "Black Unicorn", "King of Elfland's Daughter"* Prince of Egypt: "When You Believe" Rage Against The Machine: "Killing in the Name Of", "Sleep Now In The Fire", "Know Your Enemy" Sisters of Mercy: "Lucretia My Reflection", "This Corrosion", "Temple of Love" Tori Amos: "Muhammad My Friend"
Wednesday, November 07, 2001
What a busy night this has been! I've balanced my checkbook, drawn up an extremely complex spreadsheet for keeping track of my word count (I may post it at some point so you can see the depths of my obsession), and pulled together a list of the MP3 playlist I listen to when writing this so I can share that later too... Writing? Well, no, not so much. There's just been so much else to do... I've managed 483 words so far today. I tried to write in Starbucks tonight, but apparently my muse wasn't there or something. (This concept has given me a short story idea -- making a note of it...) I think I am actually not capable of writing while wearing work clothes and makeup -- unless I'm actually at work, that is. (Superstitious much? Why yes!) Right now it's about quarter to 11, and I'm debating trying to dive in at this late hour, or just to go to bed. Feh.
Tuesday, November 06, 2001
10,006 words! I have never, ever written a single story this long. Even Harvest was made up of several different stories. Tonight another thread in the plot came to me, complete with a new character. Well, sort of new. We've seen her mentioned before... Now the Host came to her almost every night. In a way, she looked forward to their visits, and even looked forward to the nights they took her away from her room in the Retreat. When she came back screaming, at least she felt something. On those nights, the pain and fear and humiliation cut through the thick haze of Thorazine and Haldol that kept her soul dead during the daylight hours. Even while she was shrieking and fighting the orderlies, something in her was alive, and for those few moments she was herself again. In the moments before the sedatives took effect, Sara Osborne dreamed of escape. Maybe one night the Host would neglect to return her to her narrow hospital bed. Maybe one night one of the night nurses would find her bed empty during a room check while she was gone. Maybe one night her stories would be proven true and she could go free. Sara realized she could never go home, but maybe, just maybe, if she were given the chance, she could find her own way in the world, find her own home. I suppose it's worth mentioning that when writing about Sara Osborne, I had "Burn" by The Cure on repeat endlessly...
Monday, November 05, 2001
Now I understand why my friend Eric spent so much time writing in coffeeshops. In just about three hours, sitting in a Starbucks with my Palm and keyboard, I managed to write about 2,800 words. Something about the corporate-trendy atmosphere was highly stimulating, or maybe it was the caffeine, I don't know. In any case, I enjoyed it. I might have to do this more often. Current word count is at 6,880. To reach the 1,667 words a day goal, I'll need to have 8,335 by the end of the day. To reach my own 2,000 words a day goal, I'll need 10,000. Neither seems completely out of the realm of possibility right now. Here's the excerpt o' the day, introducing yet another major character: Later, determined to get the truth from the girl, Wright questioned her alone. With his slightly hangdog face and boyish features, he had a knack for winning the trust of people, and the Osborne girl was no different. In a hitching, quavering voice, she told him about taking a walk the night she disappeared in the very same woods she was found in. Then there was what seemed like thousands of lights overhead "just like in that Close Encounters movie". Wright managed to keep from wincing, and kept a carefully concerned look on his face. While he listened, the girl began her tale of lights in the sky and little gray men, complete with strange scientific experiments and unpleasant probing. Wright had heard more than his share of UFO stories, and found they were usually related by the same sort of person who could be seen on the evening news in the summer, telling the newsman all about what the tornado sounded like before it struck the trailer park. This was different. The Osbornes lived in a wealthy suburb of D.C., and the girl was one of the brightest students at one of the area's best private schools. It was unlikely she would ever see the inside of a trailer park at all, much less during a tornado. Furthermore, between her fear and her eloquence, she was just damned convincing. Further psychological testing revealed minimal neuroses, except for the persistent belief that she had been kidnapped by a UFO. Then Wright made his fatal mistake. During a staff meeting on the case, he suggested that they at least try to look into the UFO angle. See if anyone else had reported lights in the sky that night. See if there was any evidence to back the girl's story up. After the laughter died down, one of his buddies snickered, "Okay Mulder. You work the little green men angle, we'll track down the ex-boyfriend." Three days later he came in to find his office covered in posters that read, "The Truth is Out There". Three months later, he was transferred to the butt-end of Chicago, in a small satellite office that spent most of its time waiting for something to happen or for something to get passed down from the main field office.
Sunday, November 04, 2001
Oh yeah. Lemme post a sizeable excerpt, to make up for 1) not posting one yesterday and 2) already being behind. I should explain that making fun of Wordsworth is a long-standing tradition with some of my friends... A.J. spent the next forty-five minutes back in the Diag. The dew was dry by now, but the atmosphere was much less peaceful. Chattering students walked from class to class, some walking alone and chatting on cell phones, others in groups, moving with the instinct of long-time herd animals. A.J. was one of many sitting beneath the trees, reading (or in the case of some, sleeping or making out). While she was never one to believe in the power of cramming, it surely couldn't hurt to read a little more Wordsworth, could it? Well, aside from the usual pain that accompanied reading Wordsworth. So passed the last few moments before A.J. headed back across State Street once more towards the LSA building. A.J. arrived outside the dreaded examination room as one of her classmates was leaving. "How bad is it?" A.J. asked. The girl, a slender pixie of a thing with the short hair and freckles to prove it, shook her head. "Don't ask. Old Man Lindsay is in there. I don't think I've ever seen him look sourer." "God," A.J. made a face in sympathy. "I'm dead. He's hated me ever since I called Shelley an overblown idealist." The girl grinned. "Well, at least they didn't ask me about Shelley. It was mostly Wordsworth, thank God." A.J. just groaned, then took a deep breath and headed into the classroom. Waiting for her were a slender woman with short silver hair, a dour-faced man who looked old enough to have taught British Literature to Queen Elizabeth (the First), and graduate assistant who didn't look much older than A.J. herself. "Good morning, Amanda," said the silver-haired woman, a crisp British accent behind her words. "Good morning, Miss Woodson," added the ancient one, in a tone to match his face. The GA just nodded. "Good morning, Dr. Blackledge, Dr. Lindsay," A.J. replied, hoping the quaver in her voice wasn't too obvious yet. "As you know," Dr. Blackledge began, "this examination will last for two hours, with two ten minute breaks. Do you have any questions before we begin?" A.J. shook her head. "No, thank you." "All right then. Dr. Lindsay?" Dr. Blackledge glanced over at the man. "Miss Woodson," harrumphed the old man, "please explain the cultural significance of Wordsworth's 'Lines Composed a Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey' as it relates to beginnings of the Romantic Movement in Britain..." I will get to the genre stuff eventually. I promise.
Well. The good news is, I had a wonderful weekend. I got to spend time with friends, had a date, skipped class, spent time with the world's two most adorable children, and started running a new RPG. The bad news is, I'm behind on my word count. Up to 3646 -- I'd wanted to be at about 8,000 by today. So I have some catching up to do this week.
Friday, November 02, 2001
I woke up, for some unknown reason, at 5:00 this morning, completely wide awake. Did I gripe about not being able to go back to sleep? No. I sat down and wrote another 637 words. I like A.J., but she's starting to show some disturbingly auto-biographical elements.
Thursday, November 01, 2001
It was a good night. Did about another thousand words, and wrapped up the prelude with the aforementioned Maura. And our heroine made her first appearance: The scent of lilacs drifted through the flimsy lace curtains that framed the dirty window of the tiny bedroom. There was only one window in the bedroom, just as there was only one window in the living room/dining room area, a large doorwall that opened onto a postage stamp of a balcony, a balcony reserved during this time of year for bike parking and Christmas tree storage. The apartment was tiny and crowded, with its sole human occupant currently snoring inelegantly in the narrow bed in the bedroom. The scent of lilacs did not wake the girl, nor did the quietly persistent burring of an alarm clock that began moments later. The girl, A.J. to her friends and professors, was nothing more than a glimpse of wild mouse-brown hair beneath the pile of quilts as the alarm began to burr more insistently, growing more strident with each moment. Finally a fat orange tabby leapt onto the bed and started pacing at her mistress's head, yowling in hideous dissonance with the alarm. A round arm, complete with freckled hand, appeared from under the covers to swat at both alarm and cat. "Up," a voice murmured beneath the blankets. "M'up already." The tabby seemed to accept this as a coherent response, and strutted from the room, tail high in the air.
I woke up this morning, and I faced a real struggle. I desperately wanted to call in sick to work and stay home and write. Well okay. Sleep a little more, then write. I did not, however. I'm proud of that. The idea here is to write the 50,000 words while I'm following my usual routine. The idea is to prove to myself that I can write that much in my normal schedule. I'm still a little staggered at my pace last night. I don't think I've ever written that fast before. And the simple difference between last night and every other time I've sat down to write was this: I didn't care if it sucked. That's it. No agonizing fifteen minute pauses while I tried to figure out what word to use, what phrase to use next. No agonizing fifteen minute pauses getting stretched to two hour breaks while I got distracted and went off surfing the web rather than writing. I just wrote. Nonstop. That's what I need to learn to do. That's what this whole project is for. This is going to be an interesting month.
I'll be periodically posting bits of what I've written for the day. For now, the opening sentence, such as it is: On the morning of Maura Kilpatrick's wedding to Joseph Flaherty, the last thing anyone expected was for the bride to return to her mother's house at dawn with twigs and leaves in her hair and terrified exhaustion written all over her face.
Wednesday, October 31, 2001
On your mark... get set.. As I write this, it's 10:41 pm. 1 hour and 19 minutes to go before November 1. I'm sitting here thinking I should hurry up and finish reading "The Cherry Orchard" for drama class, but I don't wanna! I'm on one MUSH where there are several NaNoWriMoers, and all of us are anxious to get started. I'm also trading emails furiously with Julie. If I can't start writing now, then I want to talk about it, damn it! I have butterflies in my stomach. I should just go to bed and then get up early to write. But I may, like Julie, stay up until midnight, write a ceremonial opening paragraph, then go to bed. We'll see. Grar!
Tuesday, October 30, 2001
Yes I know. It's not November yet. I'm just getting this place ready. The idea is to keep the word count updated daily or almost daily. I think Julie and I are shooting for 12,500 words a week. Personally, I'm shooting for 2,000 words a day. I can do this. I can do this.
Monday, October 29, 2001
Whoa! I got the coolest email this morning from Chris Baty, the guy who started this whole NaNoWriMo thing: Congratulations! You've been picked at random to be one of the 30 people profiled on our "Meet the Wrimos" page. Each day during November, we'll put up a 200-word profile of a different participant.He goes on to say that I'll be getting email shortly asking me some questions about myself. Whee! So... I guess now I have to finish this thing, huh? ;)
Wednesday, October 24, 2001
The Palm keyboard passed its first test with almost flying colors. Our power went out last night and I ended up having to write a paper for school on the Palm, complete with keyboard. Not bad. Not bad at all. Editing is a bit of a pain, but that's a good thing, in this case, because I need to shut down my internal editor to write that 50K. Yay, technology makes me happy!
Sunday, October 21, 2001
New subplots, arriving daily! I dreamt about The Host this morning, when I woke up, I jumped up and grabbed my Palm and started taking notes. I (literally) dreamt up a whole new subplot. This can only be a good sign. Now I've officially told enough people about my participation in NaNoWriMo that it will be a little embarrassing if I don't pull through. So, there's some extra incentive, there.
Wednesday, October 17, 2001
Well who needs a laptop?! I found a nifty mini word processing program for my Palm that synchronizes with Word. Now I'm eyeing one of those collapsible keyboards from Palm as well. If I get that, I should be good to go to write just about anywhere. And that would just be cool! Heh, I was listening to my NaNoWriMo MP3 playlist last night while I was finishing up Liberation. I discovered that KMFDM makes damn good writing music if one is trying to write quickly. This I will definitely need to keep in mind for next month.
Finished, by god! I finally wrapped up my Liberation stuff a few minutes ago. I'll still keep it on the list under "Editing", because I'm sure I'll have to edit a bit, but the worst is OVER! Now I'm going to go to bed and collapse, thank you.
Tuesday, October 16, 2001
I edited the manuscript for Liberation today. Thank GODS. All I have left to do is to finish polishing my puny section. And lest I jinx myself, I think I FINALLY have a handle on the damned beast. Tonight or tomorrow it'll be done. I had one hell of a scare earlier tonight. It's easier to explain it this way: Cinderella says "Aw, fuck." Cinderella can't open the Liberation doc she spent ALL DAY editing. Paige hms. That's not a good thing. Cinderella says "OH FUCK ME." Cinderella gets the following message during scandisk: "ScanDisk could not properly read from or write to cluster 2772, which contains some or all of the 'A:Liberation 2.rtf' file. The contents of this cluster are probably already lost." Paige says "Well." Paige says "That's some great big bitch, right there. :P Is it only on the disk, or saved on your work computer/could email it to yourself tomorrow?" Cinderella /thinks/ she saved it on her work computer. Cinderella says "Motherfucking son of a bitch. This is just the cursed project from hell."(Cinderella = me, Paige = Laura) Luckily, scandisk also managed to salvage everything on the disk. I was about to commit hari-kari with a ballpoint pen. And last but not least, I found a Palm program that lets you store and edit Word docs on your handheld. Who needs a laptop? I'm playing around with the demo right now.
Monday, October 15, 2001
Did I finish Liberation this weekend? What do you think? Of COURSE I didn't! To steal from the old children's song, "This is the book that never ends, it just goes on and on, my friends. Some people started writing it, not knowing what it was, and they'll continue writing it forever just because this is the book that never ends... etc." I hate this book with a flaming purple passion right now. This is worse than Revanche. I didn't have time to hate Revanche. I just feel bad because it's worse for Brand, who's the head writer on this one. Once I'm done, I absolutely cannot jump right into Memory. I'm feeling burnt out with the whole Tribe 8 thing right now. NaNoWriMo feels like a welcome break, right now. How sick is that?
Sunday, October 14, 2001
Ah. I have sound back on my computer. I can write again. See, when I write, I have to have music playing. And it has to be from my computer. If I play my stereo, I get distracted by getting up to change CDs or skipping tracks. If I use MP3 playlists, on the other hand, I just click a button to restart it or set it to loop infinitely (until I think I'll puke if I hear anything from Carmina Burana ever again). What do I listen to? That depends on what I'm writing. I wrote all of Harvest of Thorns listening to a combination of Dead Can Dance, Tannahill Weavers, and the Prince of Egypt soundtrack -- so that playlist has become my default for writing anything for Tribe 8. Sometimes, if I'm feeling really pressured, I'll put just one or two songs on a playlist and repeat them endlessly. I wrote my bits of Revanche listening to "Deliver Us" from the Prince of Egypt soundtrack and "Burn" by the Cure, I think. Right now my Tribe 8 list is playing, but I've added classical bits and Enigma and some Loreena McKennitt -- it's almost too long to be practical. And yes, I'm already pondering what to listen to while I write The Host, my November novel. ;)
Saturday, October 13, 2001
In a flash during school this morning, the title of my November novel came to me, along with themes and an ending. I have a couple of quotes that I need to print out and tape all over my desk for inspiration. I'm geeked about this. I have a title. I have character names. I have a plot. I have themes, ferchrissakes. The only problem is that I want to start writing on it NOW. Not happening, of course. This weekend is dedicated to editing and wrapping up Liberation. Stay tuned. This may be the only journal of mine that gets any play during November.
Gods help me. Now I know what I'm doing in November. Okay, about this writing buddy thing... The good news is, I've had a novel idea stewing in my head for over a year now. The bad news is, instead of 30,000 words in 30 days, it's 50,000 words. Ack.
Friday, October 12, 2001
I officially resigned from writing on Capal last week. It was a hard decision to make, and I still feel pretty crappy about it. I'm also still struggling along with Liberation, and wondering how in the hell I'm going to work out Memory. And that being said, now I'm completely tempted by National Novel Writing Month. (Thanks a lot, Julie. ;)) When will I have TIME? But if I don't make time, I'll never have time, right? Arrrrgh. Writing has taken such a backseat lately. Maybe NaNoWriMo might shake me out of that. (Well, that or completely dishearten me. :P)
Friday, October 05, 2001
Well at least I updated the page, right? Writing has so definitely taken a backseat to everything else right now. It bothers me. Quite a lot. I'm just not sure what to do about it right now.
Wednesday, September 26, 2001
Writing papers instead of T8 stuff. Instead of fiction. Instead of journal entries. Instead of anything. The scary thing is, I sort of enjoy writing papers. It's just a little frustrating. I haven't sat down and honestly concentrated on fiction in so long I'm almost afraid to try again. Which, of course, means that I should sit down and write some fiction, ASAP. Times like this are when I miss my old job, for the time I had on the job to write. Writing time is the only thing I miss about that job.
Monday, September 24, 2001
I'm still alive, and occasionally writing. Due to a huge number of reasons, deadlines were (thankfully) pushed back on both Liberation and Capal. So they're still on the "To Do" list. Maybe I can get more accomplished next month. :P
Friday, August 31, 2001
I've rounded the corner, THANK GOD! Not in terms of word count, which is still pitifully low, but after lots of thinking yesterday and a long conversation with Brand last night, I know exactly where I'm going with my Liberation stuff. Good thing, too, cause I've stretched the deadline about as far as I can. Now it's just a question of writing it.
Thursday, August 30, 2001
I'm writing, I'm writing already! This has been a tough, tough project. I'm so far behind schedule it's scary. I think I'm going to miss even my extended deadline, but damn it, I'm writing! Bad news is, Capal stuff is due on the 10th. Good news is, I don't have much to write for Capal. But then after Liberation and Capal I've got to dive into Memory, or whatever the hell I'm going to call it. After that? I think after that I stop with the T8 projects for a bit and concentrate on more fiction. Sure, my fiction's not a guaranteed publication, but I think it'll be better for me in the long run. |
