I would like to write a novel in each of the major genres (or has at least one foot in said genre). Just to see if I can. It seemed like one of those far-fetched and ridiculous ideas, but I finally had an idea for a horror novel, so you know, maybe. (I actually have had the mystery novel idea for about five years now, which is amazing to me on many levels, except it's not when I remember the idea is basically Anne Brontë Had a Double Life, which should surprise no one who has read The Tenant of Wildfell Hall. No, not the abusive drunk husband parts, either, or not just them; we know her model for those started with her brother Branwell. The nearly Austenesque comedy of the neighborhood sketches is what I'm talking about.)

---

The weather has finally turned cloudy and glowering. This is good. I was beginning to go a little crazy. All that sunshine seemed unnatural. Glowering matches my feelings about fall much more appropriately.

---

Fall and I have not gotten along since I dropped out of college. At the time, I blamed it on how much I hated being out of school against my will, and autumn became emblematic of that time. (I loved school so very much. Before I even went, I loved it. I used to cry because I couldn't get on the bus with my cousins, or so they tell me.) Fall was a time of renewal when I had school to look forward to. The true start of the year. I enjoyed autumn a bit when I went back to college.... but I don't think I've ever gotten over it. Even though I very passionately don't want to go to library school at this point, I still feel all this regret and angst in the autumn.

---

Also, I dread winter--the dry, the cold cold cold, the snow-slog, the dark, the everything--well, then. I liked winter when I was in college. I liked winter in North Carolina. But even a small daily commute in winter is soul-deadening. If I could work at home, and go out and enjoy the weather as I chose, it would be different.

---

I have been rather testy of late. And other people's short tempers only shorten my own further.

---

I found out that the local Whole Foods (maybe all of them, for all I know) has a line directly into Tree-mendous Farms, a heirloom apple farm on the west side of the state. I picked up five different types of apple I've never had before. I look forward to trying them. There's also going to be an heirloom apple tasting at Zingerman's in a couple of weeks. I grew up in the midst of the Red Delicious/Golden Delicious supermarket domination, where it was a wonderful thing to lay hands on a Granny Smith or whatever that one apple is with the snow-white flesh and the creepy pink veins. The apples we stole from roadside windfall were far better than anything you could buy. When the Galas and Braeburns and Fujis started pouring in from overseas, it was a revelation. The last few years, I've been trying to only buy local apples, because Michigan is a huge apple-producer, and duh. I've enjoyed Spies and Macintoshes and a variety of other things, but other than Honeycrisp, I've not found one I loved.

It's a hell of a beautiful day out there. High 70s/low 80s, sun-sun-sun, bright fall colors betwixt here and Gladwin, low humidity, busy bees and birds...

I spent the weekend visiting my aunt and mother. We had lunch outside today (venison steaks, onions, and gravy, mashed potatoes, loads of beets) while chickadees whirred past us, popping in and out and in and out of the bird feeders, and bees nosed around trying to decide if beets were sweet enough to suit them.

I drove home with a cache of Washington state giftees (most notably, poison oak honey), and the requisite Thing or Two from auntie's stores (in this case, a couple containers of strawberry freezer jam). I stopped at the outlet stores on the way down and did some seriously belated shoe shopping. And yet, I liked nothing enough to buy it, except at the Nike store, where I got some discounted running shoes (yays!). Still no new black or brown shoes for work, though.

Yesterday, Mom and I sat in the sun for about three hours on the riverbank, and talked and watched the river slide by--until a laughing bird-call alerted us to the presence of a very large woodpecker indeed. We got up to see, across the river, a pileated woodpecker decimating the neighbor's woodpile. Woodchips flew everywhere. I took about thirty good pictures of the girl (on Mom's camera, alas), and maybe fifty bad ones. This morning we walked over and investigated the buggy logs with deep holes filled with sawdust, but the woodpecker was nowhere to be seen.

Not quite a cure for my discontent, but it's a start. If I thought the weather might last...

Quantum Kiss has put up "The Wedding Dress Tea Parties of 2443," my Regency-in-space, my somewhat-screwball, very-comedy-of-manners novelette.

Much as I'd love to do a good old-fashioned con report on ConClave 33, I cannot. I attended a whopping one panel, led by my buds daveamongous (Dave Klecha for his fans) and Steve Buccheit (bee-YOU-hite, she repeats softly to herself), who made his first story sale at the con, you go, Steve.

AND, I forgot (read: couldn't find) my con notebook. I feel I've done something tragically smart like put it away in my con bag, and no longer know what my con bag should be, so it's lost until I find it again.

Anyway. I did learn a fair amount from other panelists, though the most most most MOST excellent piece of advice was from msagara (Michelle Sagara West) in the "What I wish some pro had told me when I was starting out..." panel: "I wish I'd known it was okay to be myself."

( Which percolated. )

Beyond hanging out with my Con-Spouse, splash_the_cat, and my Karmic Revenge, Mary Lou Klecha / Dave's sis / vidensadastra, and the aforementioned Dave and Steve, I got to hang with jeffreyab a leetle bit, as well as the super-awesome fan GoH's, Anne Brett and Lee Carroll; Sarah Zettel (fearless leader of my writing group-Sarah); the new-met and totally awesome, whiskey-voiced Anne Harris; Anne Zanoni, who I think does more by 10AM than I do all night, or something cleverer than I can come up with right now (she's got a lot of energy, alright?)....

And I had so many panels I didn't know what to do. Like the old woman who lived in a shoe... I had ten panels! I couldn't even tell you everyone I was on panels with. Well, I could if I looked through the con book. Most notably, Tiffany Aaron and I managed to hold down the whole panel on settings by our lonesome, as did Freon and I for most of "Research is an Art." I did get to panel with jimhines, twice I think, and that was great. He's such a cool, nice guy. Uhm. Also. We (we being the Klecha Clutch and Jim) did not not make up a new movement called noodlepunk. Because that would be absurd.

If I think of more substantive content than Who I Saw Eating Granola Bars, I will plonk it down later. Right now, I am le tired.

I had Excelsior crit "Zebulon Vance." I made some changes; other than rearranging the first bit of the story so it's more obvious what's going on, I'm not sure my changes were great, but nonetheless, it's off to Writers of the Future, because I am still eligible and I may as well not waste my eligibility, neh?

I'm working on a rewrite/revamp of "The Library Seed." New title, new viewpoint character, same conceit, and the good lines remain. It's an issue of perspective, I guess. I hope. Anyway, the story has been through every major market and some minor ones, and I'm not entirely sure I ever did the story justice.

I should probably send out "Baking for the Apocalypse." I don't know how I feel about "Lawncare in the Afterlife" anymore. "The Spring at Spellwinter Inn" is clearly a baby novel, but I don't know when I want to write it. There are noisier novels clomping around on the second floor and being all passive-aggressive. ("Oh, were you sleeping?")

I've still not taken a second stab at a query letter, and I've taken no stabs whatsoever at a synopsis. I realize I'm not supposed to enjoy synopsizing, but I was also expecting sort of a rancid panic over it, and it's just... apathy that I feel. It's gotta get written. Other things want to get writ more. I will write it when I have to. I will probably not enjoy it. I will probably not go crazy, either. The end. Boring synopsis story over.

I finally had a real idea for how to finish up "Breakfast at Antigone's." Nope, I don't know when I'll write it, or if I will. It's a great title. It could be a great story. I think it's not really the kind of story I want to write, though, not anymore. It is a story of the past. I don't know the person that felt it was such an important story to tell anymore.

I think that's it...

On my Duotrope control panel page:

Your Overview
Pending responses: 5
Submissions sent last 12 months: 34
Submissions sent this month: 1
Acceptance ratio: 11.00 % (Your overall acceptance ratio is higher than the average for all users over the past 12 months. Congratulations!)'

I don't track things this way (a rolling 12 months? Wha?), but this amused me.

My take on post-novel ennui is a distinct feeling of Lack of Purpose. Instead of rolling around in my free(r) time, I'm vaguely grumpy and unsettledownable. Much like at the end of a semester of higher education, it's not that I spent every waking moment attending to the project at hand, but every second of free time taken away from the project was weighted with import.

The easy and obvious answer is to fill up the time with other projects, but somehow, the gravity of those things is not anchoring me to them.

In other news, I went to the North concert last night, and it was so very much fun. A large part of the fun was simply basking in the family-esque glow of _earthshine_ and mcniadh's effort. It was their CD release party/concert, and it's so very, very different than how any event that I will ever throw, should I be so lucky as to have a book release to celebrate.

Of course, it's in our natures to be jealous, even of such mundane things as "your art is more fun than my art." (Or: "Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope..." thanks, Will. You always know what I'm thinking four hundred years before I think it.) Pretty much, no matter what I do in the writing world, I will not be a rockstar. People will not join in on the chorus of my songs. This is how it is, but that doesn't mean I don't regret that I don't have a moment in the dark to give to people. If for no other reason that novels, mostly, needs must be enjoyed with good lighting.

At the same time, my performances will (she hopes) be bound and sit on people's shelves for a long time.

So, maybe I'll get over it. Maybe I already am.

Quantum Kiss has bravely bought my excessively long story "The Wedding Dress Tea Parties of 2443," which is:

• the story I worked on while I was at Milford in Wales and having a most wonderful time
  
• the first (and so far only) story title I plucked from my spam filter
  
• more or less a Regency romance in space, plus a little screwball comedy, plus a little science fiction of manners
  
• loooooong

So! Uhm. Sale! *eyes inventory* That's getting a leeetle low, you know?

---

And I just happened to notice that Tangent Online has been offline for a year today. *tear*

---

And okay, my ConClave 33 schedule. Read it and weep! For me! Preferably, weep tears of Red Bull.

Friday:

Fri 6:00 PM Br 7 Michelle Sagara, Merrie Haskell, Jim Hines
Things I Wish Some Pro had told me when I was starting out: No-nonsense professional advice on how to build your career as a professional writer, what to do after you have sold your first story or novel, details on contracts, editors, etc.

Fri 7:00 PM Br 7 Michelle Sagara, Merrie Haskell
Why write under a pseudonym? What are the advantages and disadvantages of using a pseudonym?


Saturday:

Sat 10:00 AM Atlantis M. Keaton, Merrie Haskell, Dave Klecha, Jim Hines, Steve Buchheit, Ferrel "Rick" Moore
Writer's Workshop: Open Writer Q&A

Sat 11:00 AM Br 7 Tiffany Aaron, Steven Climer, Michelle Sagara, Merrie Haskell
Creating Settings: How are they created? How can they be used to fill out the background of the story giving texture and detail without overwhelming the plot? The writers will talk about where the settings came from and how they were developed. At the end of the discussion the audience can choose a picture, list words describing a setting based on it and write a paragraph putting the words together and voila: a setting is created.

Sat 12:00 PM Atlantis Merrie Haskell, Wanda DeAngelo, M. Keaton
Who are the Aliens? We will take a detailed look at aliens of SF/F. Are they simply a modified extension of our own cultures and species? Does exploring aliens help us understand ourselves? Would we understand a truly alien species and culture?


Sat 1:00 PM Br 6 Steven Climer, Merrie Haskell, Wanda DeAngelo
Research is an Art: How is research done? What is the best way to research? How much is too much? How much is to little?


Sat 4:00 PM Br 8 Tiffany Aaron, Merrie Haskell, Daniel J. Hogan, Steve Buchheit
Gee, I wish I thought of that. Where do writers get their ideas?


Sat 5:00 PM Apollo Merrie Haskel, Christie Halle Devlin, Dave Klecha

Christianity in SF&F: How has Christianity influenced and been used(and misused) in science fiction and fantasy? Where did the Lords of Kobol, Klaatu, exorcists, and anime nuns come from?

Sat 7:00 PM Atlantis Merrie Haskell, Daniel J. Hogan, Michael LaFlamme, Michael Poe, Jim Hines, Lucy Synder
Humor in Science Fiction and Fantasy: Where has the laughter gone? Isn't laughter as important as technical wonders in Science Fiction?

Sunday
Sun 2:00 PM Br 7 Michelle Sagara, Tracy Chowdhury, Merrie Haskell
From Idea to Story: How do I take my great idea and write a great story. In this panel we will discuss the process from your mental idea to the written form. What are the techniques you need to use to make your idea come to life and flesh.

I feel like I just finished a semester of college, what with the novel being done. Time seems luxuriously available.

It's all a lie, of course. I have other things to do. Things with deadlines. Self-imposed, but just as liney.

Oh, and if anyone is curious, the contest admin for Writers of the Future feels that Escape Pod and its ilk do not add in the count out for ineligibility. So, while I'm not eligible for SFWA, I can still send stories to WoTF. In case anyone out there was wondering a similar thing.

I have crossed 2 things off my 13 item writing to-do list.

Gone are:

#1: Finish The Herbalist's Apprentice
#3: Read for writing group

Right now I'm doing:

#6: rewrite "Zebulon Vance Sings the Alphabet Songs of Love" & sub
#9: make master agent list and their guidelines/requirements

Holy crap.

Does that "holy crap" make sense to you?

I'll never be less than grateful for my opportunities, both the ones I've been given and the ones I've carved out for myself. I'll never be less than grateful for my luck, both past and future. And doing this, right now and right here, the writing, and the agent hunting, and the all of it... it's what I want to be doing. There's no whining, no griping, no moping, no slogging. This is what I want to be doing.

Complete at 80,000ish words (when you do the 250 X #pp calculation), or 64,615 by word processor count. A very solid YA length, which is good, since this is YA.

Questions of consistency of character, eye-color, skin-color, personal smell, and the invented names of rivers will be left for another day. For now, I has novel. I has manuscript. I is done. I cannot brain any further.

To bed.

Book's not done. Two more scenes of vital importance revealed themselves to me this evening. I had two half scenes to write when I sat down tonight. I now have a scene and two halves to write.

I pushed through the 10:30 wall, but the 11:30 wall is insurmountable, unbreakable and untunnelunderable. I gotta sleep.

Stupid book not being done. I hope you're happy with your two more scenes, book!

We'll see what I get done in the morning.

In completely other news, Darling Laptop came back from the repair shop and she has hinges as stiff as the day she was born. STIFFER, even. My last glimpse of her was with black cords falling out the bottom of the screenal area due to broken hinge. Life is good!

dannimal, who happens to be the local repair center guy as well as my husband, told me that there was a whole cat inside my laptop. But apparently, not the cuddly or pettable kind. Just the loose hairs kind.

And not a few crumbs, too.

Shocking.

stephanieburgis posted the pictures of her morning out. She got tea and sat outside a cottage and stared at Bolton Abbey while brainstorming Kat by Ghostlight. *jealous*



But then I looked up from my chocolate chip cookie and diet Pepsi (ew on the latter, but oh well) and realized I was doing okay:



It was kind of a gray day, but there was water and there were trees.

I'm making my big push to finish The Herbalist's Apprentice today. (Or possibly it will be called The Herbarian's Apprentice. If you have an opinion on that, do share it.) Yes, the novelette I posted on IPSTPW day is now a novel, and is about 2,000-4,000 words shy of being finished. I'm finally sure that announcing that's what I've been working on won't jinx it. This novel wants to be DONE. I wrote 6,000 words this weekend. There aren't many left.

Oh, and earlier I did that instant picture meme, you know the one--when you see this picture, take a picture of yourself, don't stop to put on clothes or makeup, don't edit the picture at all.... This was what I got. And, as you can see, it's TOTALLY unedited. I didn't even rotate it. :) (And Flickr resizes automatically.)

On Thursday, I bounced around in my chair at the Brown Jug and explained to splash_the_cat how excited I am by the polarized reactions Reparations has been getting. People are angry! People are enthused! Accusations of white liberal guilt are being bandied about! And the questions of paradox--!

Being a writer, for me, is a bit like being a neglected child. ANY attention is GOOD attention.

Plus, I'm really good at paying attention to the comments that are complimentary, and ignoring the ones that aren't.

And then, my story went reallytruly live at Coyote Wild. Check out The Girl-Prince. (Or not. I mean, obviously, based on previous, even if you don't read and then come tell me you hate it, I'll like what you say.) sartorias and her crew did a fantastic job picking stories. Some rich financier needs to hire sartorias as editor of a YA spec fic magazine and then let me buy a subscription. Anyway, lots of nice comments from folks. It's as good as writing fic.

And then, Surreal Botany got reviewed at io9, and that was extremely cool. (Even cooler is when I realize patrons at my library are buying it, and they don't even know their local ILL circulation supervisor and shipping manager is involved.)

And then, Dunesteef Audio Fiction purchased (or rather, is in the process of purchasing, but I anticipate seeing the contract soon) "Rampion in the Belltower" for podcasting reprinty goodness. Which makes 3 podcast reprints this year. Fan-awesome-tastic!

Not a bad week.

( Read more... )

No, I don't think we are on the same page, dude.

Poll #1263078 living places
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All

What's the primary reason you live in the area that you do?

When/if the primary reason goes away, are you leaving?

And where's your ideal place to live?

So. If anyone knew where I could find an overlay sort of map of the real world and the Greco-Roman underworld, I would love you.

Right now, I'm going on evidence from shakily written web-pages (srsly, "Prosperina" and not Proserpina? This is not your drunken spellcheck's fault), a map of Europe, and some random person's interpretation of the underworld.

"Some say that Elysium, was not located in the Underworld, but on earth. Most who wrote about it, says Elysium was situated on the White Island, which was called Leuke, near the mouth of the Danube River, in the Black Sea." Hm. Okay. Plotting the mouth of the Danube as Elysium... (map of the Danube; Ancient map of the underworld, and more random map of the underworld... Factor in where Odysseus entered the underworld...)

So, basically, in the fictional country of Sylvania (bordered by Moldova, Transylvania and old Ukraine, whatever that was called back then, I should really probably look that up), their underworld is northwest of Elysium, and probably directly north of Tartarus. "Barbarian country," Hades and Persephone would no doubt consider it.

Since I'm actually trying to finish this novel and not cat-wax--and I've already spent 33 minutes on this nonsense--I'll have to figure out the details later. (And if there's not already some crazy overlay for free on the internet, you know I'm going to make one. Eventually.) But for now, I'll be content with my vaguely educated guess.

( My schedule as it is: )

Seriously. The first person who figures out what I'm doing wrong gets a prize.

...is without cynicism
...is wildly romantical without being romance-focused
...is entanglingly character-driven
...has characters with swords
...has mysterious religions
...is written with transparent prose so I don't have to fight my way through it going, "Wait, this is what I wanted, but it's not."
...has assassins. Good assassins.
...and gruff old men with hearts of gold
...and lost heirs in disguise
...and is basically all wish-fulfillment fantasy, all the time, but for girls who used to like unicorns but don't anymore
...and maybe there's a desert. And if there's no desert, there's a mountain fastness. And if there's no mountain fastness, there's a some other fancy, dominating landscape.

I want, basically, The Blue Sword again for the first time. Plus a little Seven Daughters for Seven Sons and a lot of Crown Duel, and maybe even a tiny bit of Dragonsong, with a dash of David Eddings and Mercedes Lackey (no really). And little tiny bit of I Capture the Castle, but only in the voice.

Anyone know where I can find that?

So much rain. Cranky old hurricanes don't quite know what to do with themselves in Michigan, but rain they can do. (Just as I typed that, a big ol' gust of wind howled outside my window. "I do too know what to do! I'll blow yer house down!")

I've been sopping wet twice this weekend, though all by choice. I probably didn't pick the best time to go to the grocery store today--in fact, I had this brainstorm that I should try grocery shopping in Milan (little town to the south of us), which has a Kroger (unlike Saline, my town, which has Country Creek Market where I've thrice gotten buggy food, and Busch's, which is too expensive). Four miles further away than the closest Kroger in Ann Arbor, but straight down a pleasant country road. Plus, I thought it distinctly possible that small-town Kroger might have lower prices than big-town Kroger.

Straight down a very wet country road, so I didn't save a darned thing in terms of time, because it was go slowly or die hydroplaning.

The Kroger in Milan proved to have all the things I like to buy at the Kroger in Ann Arbor (technically Ypsilanti), plus tortilla strips for salads at the original and proper price of $1.99 instead of $2.99 that I've been seeing on offer at Busch's. So.... yes, good. The sales were very sale-ish, better than Ann Arbor, but the regular prices weren't any lower. So... we'll see. Eight miles of country road added to grocery shopping certainly won't break the bank--it's less than a dollar in gas involved--and possibly it reduces wear and tear on the car? Maybe.

But: smaller store equals faster shopping. I won't shop at Meijer because it takes an hour to get through it on even a brief grocery run. And my old Kroger just keeps expanding, and takes way too long to get through, too. So, there's that.

The lines were better in Milan, too. That may have been a function of ol' man hurricane, though.