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Cats, hands, and words
We’ve been looking for a new furry friend for the family since our beloved Minerva (the cat) passed away. We went back and forth between wanting to get a dog and a cat, and after every attempt to get a dog was foiled, we opted for the feline variety instead. I love dogs, and I love cats. But I know dogs are much more work. Our Calliope is a wonderful, special, marvelous dog. But she was a ton of work. I trained her from a puppy and it was exhausting–it was also before I had a puppy of my own (i.e. my son)! I just don’t think we’re up for…
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ConTemporal Bound!
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Needles and other unpleasantries
With the help of an ergonomic keyboard, it’s been typing as usual here. However, that doesn’t mean the wrist pain has gone away entirely. There are still days where it’s intolerable (note the post about pain killers, etc.). So today I went the hand doctor, a specialist sort whose office is covered with lots and lots and lots of hands. He looked, he prodded, he asked questions. Definitely carpal tunnel. I had symptoms I didn’t even notice until he showed me (like loss of sensation on some of the fingers). Then, he gave me the rundown: shots, therapy and a steroid patch, or surgery. The good news is that he…
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You’ve got a messed up conception of happy.
More writing has been done, and I eked over the 30K mark this afternoon. This is good.( I apologize if some of these posts are a little repetitive, but currently I’m trying to track my output and want to be a little more book-centric during the process.) Stuff accomplished in Ardesia, where it’s spring and it’s still snowing, bombs have been falling, knights have been descending from airships and Marna is searching for Dev while Sievert searches for Marna, while Dev is traversing the seven hells, etc., ad nauseum: Almost killed someone, which I totally did not plan to have happen. Out of nowhere. Almost dead–not really dead yet–but now…
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Movin’ right along… footloose and fancy free…
Finally had a chance to do a little bit of writing today. The weekend was horrible, and writing was not an option. I had an epically bad reaction to medication on Saturday (I am a lightweight of unparalleled proportions) and was in no shape to be writing. I mean, I do have a drug addict in the book, and maybe (just maybe) I could have mustered something insightful or interesting. But honestly, just looking at the computer made me feel ill. So, none of that. However, progress is continuing. Not a huge day for output, but just under 4K for the day and I’m not complaining at all. I had…
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Progressy progress, and knee deep in weird…
Oddly enough, Paul Jessup is having a conversation at his blog right now about the (re)emergence of weird, and I happen to be knee deep in it. It wasn’t expected. At its heart, Dustman is certainly Neo-Victorian, with occasional splashes of steampunk–but more and more I’m seeing how much weird it has to offer. Granted, there’s room for it, as one of the main POVs is journeying seven hells for reasons yet unknown to him (but known to me… oh muah ha ha ha ah). So far he’s encountered coffins made out of blood, blood sucking sand, and visions of his ex-love as a teenager. Yesterday things got even weirder.…
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The Novel’s Life
I have said it before: novels have lives of their own. Maybe I should expect it by now, but it still amazes me how a book can simply do things that I didn’t anticipate–often without my permission. Case in point, my current work in progress Dustman. The idea for this book was simple: girl loves boy, boy goes mad, girl gets married to man who promises to care for boy, man loses boy, girl goes on quest to find boy. (Okay, not simple simple, but you know.) For me it’s even simpler, since I’m using a pre-developed world. It just started out with three characters, and three points of view.…
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First Failure
Facebook is constantly trying to connect me to people it thinks I want to know, and most days I ignore it. However, I happened to glance up at the little suggestion box and see author Jane Yolen’s name the other day. Apparently we have quite a few friends in common. But, odd as it is, that Facebook connection goes back a long way, and reminded me of my spectacular first failure as a writer. And, even, technically I suppose, as a spec fic writer. … 1993. I am in the sixth grade. I have just moved from a big school district, where I was in a Middle School where kids…
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The Long and Short of It: A Cowardly Writer
I never started out writing short stories. Or even poems. In my mind, when I sat down to write at the ripe old age of twelve (spiral bound notebook and pen in hand) I was writing a frakking novel. It’s always been novels. Not to say that they’ve always been good novels, of course; simply, this is how my brain thinks. And that’s not surprising, really. I read more novels than anything else. I am a very choosy reader, but when a book takes hold of me I am in for the long haul. I know characters that have changed me for life; I have seen landscapes in print that…
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Fiddling in short form.
Last night I finally wrote* a synopsis of The Aldersgate. I’m not sure why I hadn’t done this before, since I’d queried it and submitted it to a publisher–but somehow, there it was, un-synopsized (which, I’m aware, is not a word). Normally I kind of dig doing synopses–I did three of them in one weekend a few months ago, and it was almost refreshing. But, those three novels were not multi POV. The problems with writing multi POV synopses is that clarity cracks. You have so many details, intertwined–and if you forget a minor detail, you have to back if that minor detail turns into a major plot point. Plus,…
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Writing is happening!
Well, at last! It looks like I’m able to dictate pretty easily right in to WordPress. That means I can get posts out much quicker, without having to put strain on my wrists. I suppose it goes without saying, but young writers: take care of your wrists. Sure, some of it has to do with genetics. Some of it has to do with wear and tear. But if you’re at risk in any way — or in both ways, as in my case — you could end up in the same boat as me by the time you’re 30. I’ve got to admit, it’s going to take a little getting…
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Rewiring the writing approach
So, it’s been over a month and I’m still the gimpy writer. The wrists have certainly improved, but 99% of that has to do with, you know, not typing. I would be lying to say it hasn’t been beyond frustrating, especially considering the move and the many other things I won’t bore you with. Suffice it to say, I’m having to change just about everything I thought I knew about writing. I had the formula down; I had the drive, the determination, the schedule. I was a writing writer, someone who sat down and just wrote, no matter what, every day. A huge accomplishment. Then, my wrists gave out. 1,000…
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Friendship is a sheltering tree.
Things have been a little toward the crappy side lately, and while I’m not going to get into the details, one of the most pressing and irritating issues is that I’ve got some pretty severe carpal tunnel going on. I’ve had to resort to using dorky looking braces, taking lots of Aleve, and not typing. The not typing thing is particularly maddening since, well, writing’s what I do (not to mention what I get paid for). To add insult to injury (literally!) since I’ve been stressed out a bit lately, my brain’s first response is to be all OMG HERE’S 20 IDEAS FOR NOVELS YOU MUST WRITE THEM DOWN NOW.…
