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Lingering in Londinium; or, Monasteries of the Imagination
My imagination is a monastery and I am its monk. — John Keats It occurs to me that it’s not just characters who choose us, but it’s places that choose us, too. When it comes to Watcher of the Skies, I had a great many plans. I thought that the first part of the book would take place in Britannia (England), an alternate history version where the Romans never left and the Angles, Frisians, Jutes, Saxons, etc., were assimilated as a servant class (those that didn’t ally with the Welsh and eventually end up part of the monarchy, that is). Then I was going to travel to the New World, to…
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Where is my mind…
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Spring cleaning, and making sense of nonsense
I am buried in boxes. Literally. The view from the laptop is approximately 80% box. We’re moving. To a very cool house. And we’re throwing crap away. And, predictably, I’ve decided to tidy up the blog a bit. Why change, you ask? Sure, the last design wasn’t so bad. It had a nifty slidey feature thingie (technical term). But it was a bit too noisy. Functionality is fine so long as it does something, but I’m not a news blog. I’m some writer gal who talks about food and mythology and rock music. I wanted something that was more content-centric, and after trying about fifty different templates on for side,…
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Wordsworth, to his wife & from “The Fountain”
“Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.” — William Wordsworth, Letter to his Wife (April 29 1812). My eyes are dim with childish tears, My heart is idly stirred, For the same sound is in my ears Which in those days I heard. Thus fares it still in our decay: And yet the wiser mind Mourns less for what age takes away Than what it leaves behind. — William Wordsworth, “The Fountain,” st. 8 & 9 (1799).
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Albatross
From the WIP: There was a time where I could change back and forth to a fish as easily as passing wind, but the years had left me rusty. And I was afraid. Still afraid, after so many years, that I would lose control. And it wasn’t just fear, really, it was temptation. That’s the problem more than anything—it wasn’t that I hated being uncontrollable. There was a dark, welcome power there that would lurk with me always, part of my true self, my ancient self, that craved blood and destruction and death. Knowing that my friend was in danger threw me into action. But I kept turning into a…
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Perception, Imagination, and Experience: “Stairway to Heaven” and Melodies Unheard
What do John Keats and Led Zeppelin have in common? More than you think, if you're me.
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A quick one while I’m away… 2012 to 2013
Not a year-end in review. On to 2013, and don't let the door hit your arse on the way out.
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Welcoming Winter, Gravely
It was in the 70s today here in North Carolina. After a few weeks of absolutely amazing weather–chilly and in the 50s during the day, scooping down into the 20s at night–we’re in a bit of a mini heatwave. The flannel sheets seem rather preemptive. But I guess that makes sense. This week has been a study of contrasts, and not just seasonal ones. My husband was laid off on Monday last, his entire department vanishing into “we’ll give you some contractor hours” and that’s that. I’m trying to stave off the panic and dread (and fury; I assure you there is plenty of fury, considering everything we’ve been going…
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And that’s that. Farewell, NaNoWriMo 2012.
Even though I honestly had no intention of doing NaNoWriMo, as of this evening it appears I have “won” said writing frenzy. I have brought Joss Raddick from a little tadpole of a man to a Kraken. He is currently on an island, about to enter a Synod with a few other godlings, and he has a big wedge of iron lodged in his skull. He went on a rampage as a Kraken, he met another crazy Kraken, he sired a poet, and he was swindled more than once. He also made some friends. And more than anything, I’ve had such pleasure writing this. Joss has always been one of my…
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A Room of Their Own: A Look at Characters and the Spaces They Inhabit
The last few days I’ve been thinking about some interesting aspects of the writing process, particularly in line with writing this follow-up (not really quite a sequel) to Pilgrim of the Sky. And a great deal of it has to do with space. So, in the first book, Maddie leaves her space (her apartment she shared with Alvin) and spends the rest of the book going to other places. But she most certainly doesn’t make a space of her own. As this book begins, she’s half in the process of doing that. But, as is the habit of many of my characters (when I think upon it) she doesn’t have a lot…
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blog, editing, fantasy, fiction, nanowrimo, pilgrim of the sky, poetry, watcher of the skies, WIP, writing
Watcher of the Skies and Thoughts on NaNoWriMo
So, my last post really did make it sound like I wasn’t doing NaNoWriMo, mostly likely. And apparently that’s the thing that got me going. Or something. I’m not going to try and explain it in too much details, but it goes something like this. I screwed up my back. I had to take medicine. I found out my kid does, in fact, have Asperger’s. My brain was mushy, I was in need of escape in the form of writing therapy that wasn’t going to require much editing (see: medicine), and my best friend Karen started talking to me about Joss Raddick. Readers of Pilgrim of the Sky know Mr.…
