Category Archives: writing

More Pilgrim of the Sky Reviews!

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I’ve been very behind in providing reviews for Pilgrim of the Sky — mostly due to being insanely busy and preparing to bring the new little creature into the world (9 weeks to go, for those who are counting). However, I am grateful and thrilled that so many people have connected with the book, and offer here a few choice bits for you to read:

From Chuck Lawton at GeekDad (whose band The Vitrolum Republic you should check out, not to mention the project of his wife, Sue, The Circus and the Cyclone):

The novel is grand in scope, rich in description and full of wonderful discovery. It will take you from the present modern world to a world born of an alternate history which parallels our own to a wholly ancient and powerful realm. It has plenty of originality while echoing the elements of other authors such as Neil Gaiman and Phillip Pullman — comparisons I make with great compliment. It’s a fun adventure and one I hope you embark on yourself.

From Steampunk Canada:

All of the main characters in Natania Barron’s story have substance and their interactions are well crafted and complex. The mysteries and mythology in her tale are nicely designed and she reveals them a little at a time, always leaving a little unsaid. It made me want to sit far longer than I intended to read on and find out more.

By the story’s climax  I was, I fully admit it, bawling my eyes out. I won’t say whether through sorrow or mirth, but it was, to state it simply, amazing.

From Litstack:

All in all, it was an enjoyable read, and would be a good introduction to steampunk for someone who wants to ease in (only one of the eight worlds is steampunk, after all, even if it is the one where the most time is spent). If you enjoyed Mur Lafferty’s Heaven and Hell, wanted to follow Alice Through the Looking Glass, or thought Gaiman’s Anansi Boys could do with a few more corsets and a touch of lace, do yourself a favor and read Pilgrim of the Sky.

From Game Vortex:

Pilgrim of the Sky is a peculiar book, but an interesting one. There’s a lot of story to absorb and the characters skip about through different worlds, so it can be difficult to keep it all straight in your head. While the story did have a definite end, only Worlds One, Two, Six and Eight were truly explored and I have a feeling there may be a sequel in the works in the mind of the author to explore the other worlds.

Additionally you can hear me and my silliness on a variety of podcasts including:

Where I’m Going, Where I’ve Been

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Well, that’s a little misleading. I’m not really going very far, in terms of miles. But I do have a series of podcast interviews and a live event coming up in the next few weeks.

2/7 – SF Diner – I’ll be a guest at the SciFi Diner podcast on Tuesday, talking about geeky things and my book. I’ll share the link when it’s ready!

2/8 — 6pm — I’ll be part of a local authors panel entitled “Where Do You Get Your Ideas” at the Orange County Library in Hillsborough.

2/14 — I’ll be on Functional Nerds!

2/22 — I’ll be on Geek Radio Daily!

I’m also slated to be visiting Steampod at some point in the near future. More details on that as it happens. Suffice it to say, February will be a month filled of opportunities to listen to me blabber own about steampunk, fantasy, string theory, and a variety of other subjects.

Otherwise, I’ve been spending a bit of time working on Glassmere research. By “research” I primarily mean putting things up on Pinterest (see: Edwardian Pretties for Glassmere) while thinking of some of the primary problems that are keeping the book from moving apace (aside from, you know, falling into the pits of research… ahem). Thankfully, I figured out one of the main issues, and I am excited. Never underestimate the power of two very eccentric octogenarians, that’s all I’ve got to say.

The dress at the top of this post is one of my favorite discoveries, and Julia is most certainly going to wear it at some point in the novel.

Reading the tea leaves for 2012

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Well, hello there, readers. It’s been a while! Rather than sit here and give excuses, I’ll just apologize briefly for being not the best blogger lately. It happens. I’ve been blogging for a long time, when you look at the big picture, and well, sometimes there just isn’t a whole lot of time for sitting down and pondering the writing craft these days between family and the full time job and other things. But it’s not like nothing is happening. So here’s a bit of what’s been happening about these parts.

First and foremost, I’m currently heading into week 25 of my second pregnancy. And I’ll tell you: being pregnant does a number on your brain. Not only do you lose gray matter (like, your brain loses weight… so trippy) but hormones coursing through your body can change your personality (not to mention that your kid’s–and by extension your mate’s–DNA floats around in you permanently). For me, I’m under a nice, warm blanket of calm. If there are stresses in my life, I just seem to let them roll off my back. Oddly enough, stress tends to fuel my writing, both fiction and blogging and otherwise. I don’t feel that desperate need to create because, well, I’m creating. Right now. The little one is currently almost a foot long and weighs about a pound and a half. She’s a squirming, somersaulting, dancing little creature who, quite honestly, takes up most of my thoughts during the day. (No, I’m not writing SF right now… why do you ask?)

I’m okay with not writing a ton. Instead, I’ve been reading. As far as publishing and writing go, 2011 was not productive. Not in the output sense. But I haven’t stopped reading. In fact, I’ve read more in the last year than I’ve read in the last 5 years combined (in no small part thanks to my commute and the suggestions of my dear friend Samuel Montgomery-Blinn in the realm of audiobooks). I think of it in much the same way as I do my pregnancy: I’m feeding the creature. The best books I read this last year were Howards End by E.M. Forster (which will forever move me), The Age of Innocence  by Edith Wharton, Who Fears Death by Nnedi Okorafor and The Magician King by Lev Grossman. Yes, that’s an unusual cross-section. But each of those books spoke to me in a really important way that will, undoubtedly, impact my writing permanently.

There’s also the book release. Pilgrim of the Sky has been let out into the wild, flying like the skylark. Overall, I’ve been thrilled with the reception, and have learned (mostly) how to ignore and move on from the less enthusiastic reviewers (how on earth someone mistook my book for YA, I will never know…). Which, thankfully, have been mostly the exception. A first book out there in the real world is a scary thing, but I’m glad to have gone through the experience. I’ve got a post brewing about the book that answers, hopefully, some of the questions/misconceptions people might have. If you haven’t had a chance yet, you can check out some of the reviews posted recently! (There’s a few I know of that are waiting in the wings, and I’m trying not to be impatient!) Additionally, I was interviewed by the Outer Alliance about the queer aspects of Pilgrim of the Sky, and how Maddie’s sexuality fits into the book as a whole; you can hear the interview here. (Additionally you have until the 16th to enter the contest for a signed copy of the book by yours truly.)

Not to mention that, along with the other GeekMom editors, I’ve been working on the Geek Mom book! We sold the book to Crown Publishing a few months ago and are swiftly approaching our deadline. So I’ve been immersed in geeky child rearing, projects, and cooking. Not a bad thing, but definitely doesn’t leave a whole lot of time for even more writing.

The good news is that I’ve settled on my next project (or rather, which project to continue) when February is over and our deadlines are met. Not sure how much writing I’ll get in, what with the brain the way it is, but it’s worth trying. I’ve also started taking a look at some of my back-log of novels and considering What Next To Do. Surely I can’t keep sitting on them. That does no one good!

To everyone who’s supported Pilgrim of the Sky – thank you! I can’t say it enough. My friends, family, and beyond have helped make this experience truly memorable. And it’s just starting, y’know? Here’s to 2012 and beyond.

Where to buy Pilgrim of the Sky!

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I mentioned this over at the Pilgrim site, but forgot to do so here. I blame illness. And pregnancy! Anyway…

You can purchase the novel at the Candlemark & Gleam Website, at Amazon, and at Barnes & Noble.

And some reviews:

From Library Journal:
Maddie Angler’s lover, the brilliant and eccentric graduate student Alvin Roth, has disappeared and is presumed dead. Instead of moving on with her life, Maddie travels to Boston with Alvin’s socially challenged younger brother, Randy, to deliver a box of research papers to Alvin’s adviser, Dr. Keats. This simple action propels her into a parallel universe where she discovers through encounters with a more gregarious Randy that Alvin is not only alive but that he has discovered the secret of multidimensional travel and grown dangerously powerful.

VERDICT
Steampunk meets goddess worship in this unusual and highly original story of loves that cross the borders of time and space. Exploring the concept of multiple universes and the social, artistic, scientific, and religious differences among them, Barron’s debut is an sf adventure that mixes high action with exquisitely detailed depictions of everyday existence in these alternate worlds.

From The Steampunk Chronicle: (full review)
“Natania Barron’s first book, “Pilgrim of the Sky” from Candlemark & Gleam publishing is magical romp between worlds mundane, affluent, spectacular, primitive, and then back again.  This is a work of romantic Steampunk fiction where faces and bodies can be switched almost as quickly as fortunes and loyalties.  Behind those faces and – as she learns – behind Maddie’s own face, lie enormous power that brings the various worlds into great peril if she cannot solve the mystery of her beloved Alvin’s machinations and decide which allies she will draw close and which enemies she must draw closer.”

From Stories of My Life: (full review)
“Maddie is one of the best heroines I’ve read about. Or perhaps I should say she’s one of the best written: Natania Barron manages to take us to the deep pits of anodine life and near-depression at the beginning, when she thinks her old boyfriend is dead. She manages to confuse us with her feelings regarding the “special” brother of said boyfriend, with whom she’s forged a bond that, at times, feels uncomfortably close to love.

“Then, she blends it perfectly into the misgivings of a whole new reality, a place where she doesn’t know who to trust and where faces, familiar and alien alike, haunt her from a past that only at times belongs to her. In this world, Maddie makes mistakes and amends, and her change towards heroine begins.”

From So Many Books, So Little Time: (full review)
“Pilgrim of the Sky is a trip through the looking glass and down the rabbit hole for a new audience of readers. It is a ethereal mirage of splintered gods, improbable magic, and the threads of humanity that weave us all together. Above all it is a story about love, in each of its aspects and all of its possibilities.”

You can also check out the Goodreads page for the book, where apparently the trend is to ask for a sequel. :)

Five Ways Social Media Can Destroy Your Writing (and, Potentially, Your Career)

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Ah, social media. You can’t cross the street any more without having it cross your consciousness (I wonder if there’s a check-in here!). And as useful as social media can be for us writerly types, I guarantee you for every pro there is a serious and potentially hazardous con. Having written before on some of the reasons I love Twitter for writing, I thought I’d share five ways that social media can, you know, go all Cthulhu on your writing rather than foster it.

1) You drive yourself to distraction. This is perhaps the most obvious pitfall of social media. It’s damn distracting. There’s plenty of time to talk about writing, to meet new writers, to see and read and absorb everyone else’s processes and approaches and learn about the business and agents and publishing and… and… Wait, when was the last time you actually sat down and wrote something? And finished it? And submitted it? Yeah, I thought so. Spend too much time writing and thinking about social media, and before you know it that hard-earned writing time evaporates like wine on a hot skillet. There’s lots of time for learning the craft, and building a network is important. But the second you start spending more time broadcasting than actually creating you’ve got your priorities mixed up. (Don’t think you’re addicted: Check out the Oatmeal’s “How Addicted to Facebook Are You Quiz” for some laughs.)

Solution: Some writers use various types of software to turn off Twitter, Facebook, etc., during writing times. Others are just self-disciplined. Me? I block out hour time periods. For that hour, I’m allowed only to write. Then, I get five or ten minutes to check the wide world. Honestly, sometimes I just keep on writing because, well, there’s a lot less noise out there.

2) You broadcast too much. This is something I’ve seen from very young, fledgeling writers, to established and critically acclaimed writers. Yes, there is too much of a good thing. Over sharing. Over gloating. TMI. You know what I mean. Sure, it’s up to you to do as you will with your social media accounts. I’m not the police. I’m just saying, as a book fan and a writer myself, there’ve been many people that I’ve stopped following simply because their feeds got too, well, uncomfortable or, to turn a phrase, commercial. As much as I don’t want to hear about every single meal and migraine, I don’t want to have to endure a feed that’s nothing but self-promotion. Balance, friends.

Solution: Ask some good friends for critiques of your social media feeds if you’re worried. Write a manifesto about what you do and don’t share. If you care about that sort of thing. If you don’t, well, more power to you. Just know that your social media persona is as close as some of your fans, potential colleagues, and publishers are ever going to get to you. And if you want to make money off this writing thing, it’s probably a good idea to present yourself well. Okay, so maybe you have a huge, established audience and you couldn’t care less about what people think of you because you bathe in dollar bills. I still hold that one bad turn could ruin your career, especially if it reeks of scandal.

3) You get into arguments with other people. You know. Like, every other day. Yes, I believe that discourse is important. The only way that we progress is through understanding, which can sometimes take the form of heated discussions. But is social media the place for this? Likely not. And for a few reasons. a) it’s painfully public so everyone gets to listen to your late-night, Pabst-fueled rantings uncensored and before you have the chance to delete them b) the internet is FOREVER, man. Be a dick once, and it will haunt you for a lifetime, and c) it’s not a good place to be when you’re heated and angry and out for blood. (Penny Arcade even posits that even some folks probably aren’t in that good of a place when they sign up…)

Solution: You’re really pissed off? Good. Maybe you can do something to change the injustice. But take some time to cool off before you oust Major Jerkward Editor to the world. Be tactful. Try blog posts, mobilize your friends, prepare a response. Then you’re not a hot-head drunkard writer who comes off looking petty and jealous, you’re a well-spoken expert on the situation who added something really cool to the discussion and changed a few minds. (Also: try not to take yourself so seriously. I swear, in four years, you’ll look back at this and have a good laugh. Or a cry. Hopefully the former and not the latter.)

4) You’re very vocal about whose writing you do and don’t like. This is beyond issues of content. If you really hate a particular writer simply for the way they write or a particular choice they made in their story, trumpeting it to the social network isn’t the best idea. Why? Well, take a quick look at how many people you’re connected on, say, Facebook. You know, the other day, Facebook recommended that I friend Peter Straub, because apparently we have a whole lot of friends in common. Yeah, that whole six-degrees thing just got a whole lost closer with social media. Thankfully, I like Peter Straub. But if I ranted and raved about how much I detested him, then ran into him virtually or IRL, you know… that might be a bit awkward. And potentially damaging.

Solution: Critique, don’t simply dislike. Don’t let emotion get in the way of reading/projecting about what you’ve read. That goes beyond being a bad social media person — that’s just being a bad reader. If you’re reviewing something, you owe it to yourself and to the writing community to explain why you didn’t like it. You also owe it to everyone to actually read the book. Done well, you come across as someone who knows their stuff and you might even give insight into the writer’s own work. Remember, all writers are still in progress! (Note: some writers do believe they aren’t progressing, and others still can’t take any criticism at all. But at least if you respond intelligently, you cover yourself in the future! While not cool, IMO, I’ve still seen plenty of writers go after other writers and readers either on Twitter, Facebook, or blogs, for bad reviews… Remember that whole thing about the internet being forever? Yeah… totally goes both ways.)

5) You think you’re ready when you’re not. It’s so exciting to see other authors selling stories and doing book tours and signing book deals. But if you start comparing yourself and your career to theirs, you’re in for trouble. The truth is that there’s no magic formula. And submitting a bunch of half-thought stories and novels to publishers before they’re ready, just because you dream of the day you can Tweet: “I sold my book!” is not a good idea. I’ve been guilty myself of this, I will freely admit (while social media wasn’t the only culprit in my progress paralysis, it certainly didn’t help!). A false-sense of your own skill leads to nothing but heartbreak. Unfortunately, for the majority of writers out there, hope does nothing for actually selling a book. Also, beware promises that sound too good: vanity presses, people who want your money to publish your book. It’s hard to separate the wheat from the chaff online sometimes, but generally speaking, there is no pot of gold at the end of most promised rainbows.

Solution: Measure success with your own yardstick. Make goals that make sense for you and your experience. Maybe it’s just finishing a short story this year. Maybe it’s scoring an agent. But  framing your success in terms of other peoples’ is a recipe for disaster and, ultimately, massive disappointment. The only thing that writers have in common when it comes to success: damned hard work. To quote Jeff VanderMeer from Facebook earlier today (and to give a nod in general to Booklife, which goes into this better than I do): “If you’re not willing to put in the time and effort, if you don’t like hard work, don’t be a writer. Don’t be a writer if you don’t like to read. The world doesn’t need another punk-ass pretender.”

I’m sure there are lot of other pitfalls of social media, but these are the ones I’ve become most familiar with. Above all, practice moderation, folks. Any tool can become a distraction. Anything you say can be found again. And the only person who can truly control how you’re perceived is you. You want to be an irreverent, irate creative? Go right ahead. Just know that there are possible ramifications. You want to avoid social media altogether and go the Luddite route? Rock on. Just know that you’re also missing out on some pretty huge opportunities. (Or… maybe… in some cases, you’re not!)

How about you? Anyone fallen into any of these traps or discovered others? How do you balance social media and your writing life?

Further Reading:

Home Again, Home Again

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Home from Dragon*Con as of this Monday, but life has been, as usual, too hectic for a moment’s rest. That, and the entire house is sick one way or another here. So I’m only now just getting down to reflect on the last weekend.

General consensus is that I don’t know if I’m cut out for Dragon*Con in the long run. There are just too many people, events are too disorganized, and just getting from one hotel to another is a tour de force. The most wonderful moments I had were spending time with friends and other writers (including a very memorable nightcap atop a rotating bar with Ann and Jeff VanderMeer, the delightful Laura Anne Gilman, and my husband… we talked about publishing, licking frogs toads, and other craziness…) But my suspicion is that sort of thing can be done at other conventions where I don’t have to wade through a sea of sticky flesh to get there.

Don’t get me wrong. I love the spirit of Dragon*Con. I love that people can go and express themselves and not be judged. I just came to the conclusion that well, a) I’m not a costumer and b) I’m not that huge of a “fan” I guess. Most of my idols (if you call them that) are writers and, luckily, I’ve met quite a few of those I really, truly admire. More than anything I want to focus my convention going on writerly events, or at least conventions with a more intimate and immersive writing track (not to say I didn’t experience any good writing panels, I totally did; but the rest of the convention definitely got in the way!).

At any rate. Next year will be WorldCon for sure. I can’t pass up Chicago!

Other than the travels and the sickness there has been very little excitement in the Writing Realm save for the anticipation now that I have sent out books for blurbage. Scary. The book is out in a few months, and I’m feeling anxious. Which I’m told is totally natural, and doesn’t really go away even with subsequent publications.

I have a few posts in mind for the coming weeks including my new thoughts on steampunk, writing when it’s hard, and a revisited discussion of social media and the writer’s life. So stay tuned!

Oh! One more thing. I stumbled upon an old pile of short stories and fragments today while digging through to find “Blue Heron” (a real science fiction story I wrote… which is still hilarious to me) and discovered this little fragment I have no real recollection of writing. But I like the tone, and it has wolves. So I thought I’d share. I honestly have no idea where I was going with it, but I kind of like it. It’s titled “Meander” and is just the beginning of something.

It always starts with thunder, doesn’t it? Atmosphere. The convalescence of sight and sound, the air itself charged and everything rumbling, rumbling, away toward the mountains. Without such a backdrop the story loses some of its power, falters when the imagination cannot rightfully escape the mundane, the steely constraints of our reality.

So I start that way. I tell them about the thunder.

The littlest pups are afraid, even without mention of stranger tides. The weather is enough to frighten them, to remind them of nights huddled together in the cave, the wind and rain lashing against the rocks, light illuminating our eyes with each and every flash.

We are wolves, and we have many stories to tell. I am the wolfteller, and so I begin.

Daja buries her muzzle in her sister’s side, and Old Hide licks his teeth knowingly. He knows this story well.

I am the wolfteller, and I remember when Old Hide was just Hide, named for his propensity toward doing just that. Now his muzzle is white, and he has sired six generations.

But I am still young. The stories keep me so.

Just as I begin again, Daja interrupts. The fear has ebbed away, and she is finding her courage to speak; it will serve her well, someday.

Prosaic Analysis Paralysis

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In which I think aloud for a few paragraphs… pardon the navel gazing.

The burden of words. It’s quite something, I tell you. And at the moment I’m finding it to be on the verge of utterly overwhelming. I have all these stories, all these books and novels and ideas, and instead of a calm, steady stream (the way I’ve written for the better part of the last five years) it’s a frozen lake. A frozen lake filled with strange faces and whispers under the icy surface, all jumbled together, staring at me, challenging me.

And I’ve got analysis paralysis. I have too much to work on, so much so that I just don’t know what to write. Those ideas, all frozen there beneath the surface, they taunt me. Snippets of one story, the challenge of another, the feeling that I don’t want to abandon this one or that one. I can’t call it writer’s block, because it certainly isn’t that I have nothing to write. It’s the entire opposite. I have a glut of words and possibilities and I just don’t know what the heck to do. The noise of it all is intense.

Glassmere was supposed to be my focus. Working full time instead of freelance has changed my writing habits, but not that much; I’ve always been an evening writer, though those evenings are shorter than they used to be. Time isn’t my problem. Brain noise and the challenge of this book is. Glassmere is very personal, and for that reason it’s very hard to write, and I keep wondering if I’m just not up for the challenge of it, if it’s not yet time for me to write it. I want the story to be told, but so far it’s been something like 15,000 words of writing and rewriting, and I’m tired of trying to wrestle it into submission. It’s honestly exhausting.

Then there’s Indigo & Ink. I have to rewrite the whole thing. The. Whole. Thing. There’s just no way around it, and I have to admit my pride has been shaken in this instance. While I was writing it I really thought it was The Best Thing Ever. But now, after other eyes have seen it and I’ve had a chance to go through it, all I see is where it’s lacking, wanting.

Its cousin, The Ward of the Rose is the sequel to The Aldersgate. But this is problematic twofold. I want to revise The Aldersgate, and I can’t finish Ward until it’s revised and fixed. I wouldn’t even be considering revising The Aldersgate if it hadn’t been for a bunch of folks stumbling upon my podcast and demanding the sequel (nicely). I should have written the second book a long time ago, but well, you’ve already heard that saga.

Which is all not to mention other books prickling at the back of my mind. Heroic fantasy, Arthurian re-tellings. Finished books, in those two cases, but also in need of revision like whoa. And that’s not even to talk about Herald of the Morn, the sequel to Pilgrim of the Sky which is, basically, candy and easy to write and, in general, makes me feel guilty because I have so many unfinished things I should be working on. Or, also, The Gnome and the Necromancer which is decent for YA, and is also a candy book.

I know I’m not perfect. I’m acutely aware of my shortcomings as a writer, as I think we all must be in order to improve. But for some reason in the last few months I’ve felt as if the wind has gone out of my sails in terms of my own confidence. I’m thinking way too much about what I’m writing (whether it’s a period piece and I’m freaking out about language, fashion, and culture, or it’s a secondary world and I’m freaking out about pacing and style and magic). I wrote about confidence before, but I thought I had a handle on it. Yet the word count for the year tells me otherwise. The magic of previous years just isn’t there right now, and I know 90% of it is totally me.

So these are my questions I’ve been asking. Because at this point, I’ve got to dig deeper than prose. I’ve got to go ice fishing in this freezing lake and see what bites, what takes hold, and ultimately what ends up a meal, not a long day of sitting and waiting.

What makes most sense to work on from a “career” standpoint? Well, clearly Herald of the Morn is a book that’s a followup to something that’s actually being published. So, that sounds pretty smart. However, it’s a sequel and that assumes a certain amount of audience participation across the board, and that’s all risky. Gnome is definitely the most marketable (UF, YA), but is it me? No clear answer there.

What do I want to write the most? I keep telling myself that Glassmere is that answer, but I think the water’s too murky in this case. I’m exceptionally self-conscious as I write this. Wharton-influenced manor house “through the lookinglass” fantasy? Yes, absolutely I want to read this book. This is the sort of book I would love to read. But will anyone else give a crap? So even though the answer is clear on that count, I’m not sure it’s the best decision.

What do other people want me to write? Success wise I’ve reached more people with The Aldersgate than anything. And I keep getting reminders that people want to read it and its followup.

What makes me happy? Writing makes me happy. Falling in love makes me happy. Falling in love with the world and the characters and the story. Being so wrapped up in the story that the whole world vibrates with it, that every whisper and strain of music takes you there. I had that with Indigo & Ink, due in no small part to the fact that I’m a little in love with Ash Malcom and I do think with some restructuring he can really hold up the majority of the book.

Seriously, I’m almost at the point where I just want to chart all this crap out and CHOOSE SOMETHING. Because my approach for the last few weeks of writing 500-1000 words in any one of these projects and bouncing around is really not going to be good for the long haul.

Wondering if any of you out there have had similar experiences. Little time, lots of words. What helped you get through? What got your mojo back? A few considerations include: getting some readers for one of these projects and promising to keep up with revised/new work (read: accountability), tossing everything out and starting a new project, submitting a few things so at least I don’t think about them for a while, or possibly taking a break and just working on short stories for a while.

Looking for Lucy Pevensie

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I don’t think I can ever express just how how hard I tried to get to Narnia.

Sure, some people read books and are inspired by them; they’re influenced by them; they are changed by them. It’s normal. It’s part of the wonder of, especially I think, fantasy literature. That world just beyond the mirror, that glen just over the bend that blinks in and out of existence. It reflects the worlds we want to exist, lingering just there on the edge of what we see.

Except, for most of the fifth grade, I didn’t just like the Narnia books: I believed them. I hoped in them. I wrote strange notes to Aslan (some of which I still have) asking him to use me, to send me on missions because I was ready and willing. I knew that one couldn’t get to Narnia by thinking about it. That was one of the first rules. But I figured no one on earth had tried as hard as I did, and that had to count for something.

I remember sitting in the grass behind my house in Dalton, MA, spread-eagled, eyes closed, while the summer sun made my face warm. I remember being utterly alone, enveloping myself in the sights and sounds of the season, letting Nature swallow me whole. I believed with all my heart and soul that I was going to be taken that day. That Aslan would scoop me up and bring me out of this stupid world, full of sadness and confusing emotions and loneliness, and make me someone special.

But he never came, and I felt defeat and sadness like I never had before.

When I finally couldn’t stand it any longer, I drew my legs up under my chin and stared down at the weeping willow tree, sadly unanimated. No dryad. No magic. Nothing. I was alone in my own world with my sick father, my crumbling mother, and more feelings and frustrations than I knew how to cope with. I remember feeling, above all, that I was vastly different from everyone else (who doesn’t at that age?) and that no one really understood what I was going through. No one understood the pain my father was in (though I recall talking to our guidance counselor, I don’t remember any particularly good advice) or the stress my mother had to endure, holding up our entire family as she did. But Narnia let me escape all that, and even then it had failed me. When I needed it the most, it wasn’t there. (I think at last count I read the entire series six times over until a teacher kindly suggested I read something else; I know I read The Voyage of the Dawn Treader at least ten times.)

Time passed. I found other worlds. I followed Meg Murry into cells and across planets; I gallivanted across the Shire and Middle-Earth with the hobbits; I sought out Exalibur. But nothing ever moved me the way Narnia did. Nothing struck me, as Narnia had, had made me believe so firmly in something that wasn’t real.

Except, there’s the rub. Yes, Narnia failed me in not being a real place. But it didn’t stop me from pretending otherwise. It didn’t stop me from crossing over to my other worlds, from painting my own landscapes and passing through my own mirrors. Narnia stayed with me as the first world to which I truly escaped. It served as a point of origin for my desire to write. I’ve written plenty of secondary fantasy worlds, but Pilgrim of the Sky and most of my early work all holds a “through the wardrobe” sort of feel. And I think it’s important that this book has come first. Because, in my evolution as a storyteller, Narnia came first.

Without Narnia’s grave disappointment, I would never have tried so hard to find it again.

Maelstrom! Mayhem! (Okay, not really. But it is a good title.)

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I love the word maelstrom. I also love the word mayhem. They are related and have a certain alliterative delight, don’t they? Sure, this is just an update post and nowhere near as exciting as the last post. But yay! Updates.

At any rate. I am currently in the middle of a few fun things. I may have mentioned this on Twitter, or other places, but I’m now a fiction editor over at Bull Spec, the publication which in many ways is responsible for a great deal of the success I’ve seen in the last few years. I truly don’t know what folks do without robust writing communities like we have here in the Triangle of North Carolina. And Bull Spec has been at the center of that. I’m particularly thrilled to be working on selecting fiction, but, since I can’t ever just do one thing, I’m also helping out with web strategy and other fun things.

BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY: We’re having a Kickstarter fundraiser to keep our publication going. Did I mention we’re SFWA qualified? And if you’d like more fiction, and you’d like to see us continue to pay our writers, please consider pledging! :)

I submitted my last pass of Pilgrim of the Sky a few weeks ago and now I’m in the process of finagling a decent audio recording of the book. I’ve set up a little hole in my closet where I surround myself in foam and read into a microphone. Fascinating stuff, truly. But it’s great to be back recording again; I’ve really missed it. Of course I decided to do a book with a thousand complications (how exactly do you do a voice within someone’s head?) but I never was one to take the road more traveled. The rest of the book proceeds apace, and I even saw a glimpse of the layout of the book which, in all honesty, made me a little giddy.

I’m still trying to settle in to a book as far as writing goes, and I have a few clamoring for my attention. And by a “few” I mean four. Some days I want to lock them all up in a room and shut the door, but somehow I don’t think that would help matters, because I’d just end up with another idea. And the last thing I need right now is another idea!

For my birthday in June I bought a Kindle. I love it. End Stop. I’ve read more books in the last few months than I have in the last two years, and it’s actually becoming a habit for me. Having finished a good chunk of Edith Wharton’s oeuvre, I then finished A Dance With Dragon and am now simulreading: The Magician King on the Kindle and Glimpses by Lewis Shiner on audiobook (both suggestions from Mr. Montgomery-Blinn who astounds me with his ability to read so many amazing books.

I’ve got a short story near ready to ship. I wrote it a year ago. People laugh when I tell them it takes me longer to write short stories than novels, but it’s true. My lovely local writers group really seemed to like the story, mostly, and after I attend to some edits I’ll be putting it through the submission factory. Full disclosure: I did submit the story, once. And it was politely rejected. And I have sat on it since! Boo.

And that’s mostly it. In a few weeks we’re headed to Dragon*Con, which is always an experience. Looking forward to hanging out with friends old and new, causing trouble, and flouncing around in steampunk garb.

July July July

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Edith Wharton

Life has been spinning by at a trajectory altogether too fast for me these days, but that’s what happens when you smoosh an actual career in between being an author, a blogger, a mom, a sister, a wife, and an editor. It’s really unfair of me to complain, since it’s the bed I’ve made, but thankfully our summer beach vacation is looming just around the corner and I am looking forward to a week with as little technology as possible, and basking in the sun reading books and maybe (just maybe) doing some writing.

Which is not to say I haven’t been writing, only that the writing is slow. Instead of writing at usual breakneck pace, I’ve been reading quite a bit in preparation for writing Glassmere, and am currently about three quarters of the way through Edith Wharton’s The Age of Innocence (which won her the Pulitzer Prize in 1921 — the first time it was awarded to a woman). I’d read Wharton before, in college, during a modern novel class. We read The House of Mirth and I was rather depressed after reading it. And at the time I was pretty much opposed to anything American and modern, so I really didn’t read her as I ought to have.

But that’s the joy of growing up and continuing to read. I am absolutely besotted with Wharton at the moment, and in love with her ability to turn a phrase and move me with words. I often speak of Keats as being delicious to read — that is, his words seem to taste good when you read them. There’s a musicality to Keats, to his careful words selection, that just makes my brain vibrate. Wharton is very similar, though obviously through prose. Take this bit, for example:

“It would presently be his task to take the bandage from this young woman’s eyes, and bid her look forth on the world. But how many generations of the women who had gone to her making had descended bandaged to the family vault? He shivered a little, remembering some of the new ideas in his scientific books, and the much-cited instance of the Kentucky cave-fish, which had ceased to develop eyes because they had no use for them. What if, when he had bidden May Welland to open hers, they could only look out blankly at blankness?” — Book One, Chapter 10

The book deals with many of the same issues I’m working through on Glassmere (though it’s set in the 1870s, much still holds true). And the tone is just… well, it’s very similar to the tone I want to achieve with Glassmere. Initially I attempted a more complicated tone, hopping from character to character in that English style, but I find it doesn’t achieve what I want it to. Part of it has to do with the fact that it’s a historical book, and the readership now isn’t familiar with the setting–adding even more complication with multiple points of view just muddles it up. So, even though the book has made a decent start, I’m going to rewrite it all again strictly from Evelyn’s point of view. Wharton does this with Newland in The Age of Innocence to great success, with a narrator following him closely and revealing his innermost thoughts. However, the narrator’s voice is distant enough and strong enough to be able to zoom out on occasion to comment on the society at large, which would work far better in the context of Glassmere as well.

Glassmere needs to be smooth, especially considering where the story ends up (low, low magic, but it’s there). And Evelyn is the heroine of the story, even if entirely unconventional.

Still, what strikes me the most about writing this book is how much reading I’ve done just to make the first 10K. Between the diaries of women written at the turn of the century to the countless historical articles to the novels of the period (most notably lately The Edwardians and Howards End – two very different but marvelous books) I’ve spent the majority of my spare time these last few months ensconced with books. It even inspired me to buy a Kindle for my birthday, which has proven wonderful for reading all these public domain books (and it doesn’t cost me a penny past the purchase of the device!).

But enough about that. Additionally I have been following the creation of the book cover of Pilgrim of the Sky by my friend and astonishingly talented artist Brigid Ashwood. Her ability astounds me, and to see Maddie come to life in vivid color (down to the mille-fleur jacket!) has got to be one of the most exciting moments of my writing career to date.

The book is slated for December, but in the mean time I am also working on a bit of a novelette that will accompany pre-orders for the book, which is an epistolary addendum to the book. It’s written between two of the main characters and serves as a sort of appendix to the book, by explaining some of the more complicated magical workings of the twains, while revealing some back story. For the first time I’ve been able to slip into first person with Randall, who serves as Maddie’s love interest in the book, and I’ve got to say it’s immensely enjoyable. And easy. Some characters have such loud voices that writing them seems to take no effort at all.

And there, a post. There are many other things going on in the realm of the real, where my father is preparing for a second heart surgery (very risky) and work is eating me whole. But the written word is a solace in the storm, and even if I don’t have time to write it I’m doing as I’ve always done: reading. Just as when I was little, curled up with C.S. Lewis for the umpteenth time, so too will I weather this… clutching my Kindle.