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A post above the skies
From yesterday: I’m somewhere high above the earth, writing a blog post, on my way to Santa Ana/Orange County airport to visit my little sister. You may have heard me mention in other posts, but she is currently undergoing chemotherapy for Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. After spending four days with her, I’m going to be visiting my great aunt in San Francisco, who’s also been diagnosed with cancer. It’s a bittersweet “vacation”–I found it very difficult to leave my two and a half year old this morning. But as usual, he seemed more besotted with my mom than worried about his Mommy going on a trip across the country. Someday he will…
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A Tuesday short story WIP excerpt
But Alice was practically obsessed with exposing the truth and making a name for herself as a journalist, one who plunged into the deepest, darkest corners of the city to expose the maggot-ridden underbelly. She would grab opportunity by the scrotum, and direct it where she wanted to go, never relenting in her pursuit of cold, hard, facts. Of course, first she’d write a few fluff pieces, just to get the papers interested in her work, but then she’d go for the jugular. The instruction card was hand-written, and stamped with a government-issued seal of authenticity. Alice turned it over again in her hands and read the opening paragraph: Congratulations…
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The draft of None is done
I was going to save this until tomorrow when, I hope, I’m a little cheerier. But, hey, it’s not every day you finish a book. I mean, writing one. Since the beginning of the year I have implemented a no whining, no complaining, work-only approach to writing. I decided I will no longer sit around watching TV and wait for inspiration to hit me on the head, or to simply “feel like writing”. I’m just writing. Period. Add to that a myriad of stresses family wise, and my inherent ability to escape into writing with the going gets tough, and you make for a rather magic mix (or, as I…
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Confessions of a newbie novelist.
I have embarked on a new adventure as of late: contemplating publication, putting together a query, trying my best to keep my head above water, and sell, sell, sell. As I research the publishing industry, and all that goes into it, I can’t help but feel a little overwhelmed; okay, a lot overwhelmed (you get how many queries a day?!). I read an article recently by J. A. Konrath called Confident or Delusional? and it certainly made me contemplate a bit. I’ve never considered myself either confident or delusional, in all honesty. I’ve written about the confidence issue at length. Most of it stems from growing up in an environment…
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Judge a book by its title
Having somewhere around four titled works, I often feel like a total newbie. Hell, I feel like a total newbie most of the time with the whole publishing thing. I was once told I could sell anything, and that would help me in life, yet for the life of me I can’t figure out why trying to “sell” my own novel is like getting splinters shoved under my fingernails. Now that you have that image, let me get back to what I was talking about. We toil in the dark, writing our novels and minor opuses. We think we’re doing amazing things, powerful things, and maybe we are. But we’re…
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Reading writers of influence: the importance of reading and writing
If you don’t have the time to read, you don’t have the time or the tools to write. – Stephen King, On Writing I read Stephen King’s On Writing sometime around 2003 or so, before my husband and I were married. I was working at Starbucks, and getting ready to enter my MA program after having been wait listed for an MFA. At the time, I didn’t know what the hell I was doing with my life; I had relocated 800 miles south, was living in an old, drafty, flea-infested one-bedroom apartment in a crumbling Victorian, and I was adrift on the sea, as it were. I had about five…
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The Lady of the Lake is a blacksmith: an excerpt from Queen of None
From Queen of None. I wanted to find a spoiler-free section, but that’s almost impossible. But here’s a bit of description I rather liked, as Anna and Lanceloch (who have just been married…) approach the Lake, after Anna has struck a deal to visit her imprisoned Aunt Viviane. A note: this is not an attempt at a historical take (technically, this world is not our own). I decided, after consideration, to take Malory’s approach: tell a story with the threads that are there, but warp them as I like. From the dark sandy bank, I could just make out the island, a wisp of smoke rising from the center—a chimney,…
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I haven’t lost to February.
And February was so long that it lasted into March And found us walking a path alone together. You stopped and pointed and you said, “That’s a crocus,” And I said, “What’s a crocus?” and you said, “Its a flower,” I tried to remember, but I said, “Whats a flower?” You said, “I still love you.” – Dar Williams, “February” I usually hate February. I drown in this sunless, useless, brown month quicker than Jimmy Hoffa in concrete shoes. At least, up until this year, that’s how the game’s gone. While I’m sure it’s seasonal depression, I’ve never done much about it except get through it. And eat chocolate. That…
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Gender and fantasy: a missed opportunity
Because fantasy literature is derived from a mythological tradition steeped in masculine strength and honor, it is often cited as one of the worst offenses when it comes to gender biases. I mean, heck, you don’t have to look much further than SF/F aisle to know that boobs and bodices are really one of the hallmarks of the genre. I’ve talked about this at length before, from a feminist perspective, but the last few days I’ve been thinking about this in a much broader sense. I mean, it was hard enough for me as a woman to find characters to identify with in fantasy. By and large, even in adult…
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On a hobbity note.
Two days ago I clicked on one of agent Colleen Lindsay’s blog posts, mentioning opinions on Tolkien. I read, and ended up entrenched in a rather heated debate stemming from an essay by Richard K. Morgan. After two really long posts, and kind of working myself up about this, I came to a few conclusions. If you’ve read either of my blogs, you know I often cite Tolkien as an influence–lots of fantasy writers do that. It’s a common link for a lot of us, and I find that I climg more to the texts since the movies (not that I don’t love the movies). So, in a nutshell, here’s…
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Writing from where?
It used to be, at least in America, that writers often wrote from their heritage. If you were Irish, you tended to go that direction; if you were Jewish, that was important. And it made sense, especially in early 20th century America: everyone was struggling to define themselves as new, yet familiar. Hence, everyone is a (something)-American. What’s weird about me (and, I think, quite a few people of my generation) is that I have very little in the way of cultural identification. My mom grew up in Quebec, but she’s a mix of French, German, and First Nation (the Innu tribe). Most people think she’s Spanish, or Greek, or…
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You’re not special, you’re just stubborn.
I labored under a delusion for years that writing was precious, unique, and important. That my worlds were somehow glimpses into something Great and Beyond, and that my abilities as a writer would someday inspire awe and adoration. In those years, I didn’t write very well, and I didn’t write very much; I also never considered all that went in to actually getting a book published. I had a kind of distant understanding that eventually I’d have to actually share what I did, and that likely to get something to the masses, that would require, you know, time and publicity and all that (something I’m just starting to consider now).…
