Books I'd Like to Live In For a While:
1) My Family and Other Animals series by Gerald Durrell. These are some of my most beloved books from childhood, and my frequent comfort reads. I would love to live for a while in the daffodil-colored villa on the Greek island of Corfu in the 1930's, having breakfast on the veranda with the charmingly eccentric English expatriate Durrell family and their never-ending parade of kooky houseguests, and marveling at Gerry's menagerie.
2) The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern. I ask you: who would pass up a chance to visit Le Cirque des Reves? No one I want to hang out with, that's who.
3) Elemental Blessings series by Sharon Shinn. The belief system and magic in this world are just gorgeous. I want to pull my own blessing coins!
4) "A Fisherman of the Inland Sea" by Ursula K. LeGuin. Slightly cheating since it's a novella and not a novel? Whatever, it's LeGuin, so chyeah I want to live in one of her worlds. Planet O is a fascinating place: agrarian yet devoted to education, clannish yet pacifist, with foursome marriages and a religion with no gods. I'd want to live among them and produce the definitive anthropological study of their culture.
5) Castle Waiting by Linda Medley. For real, I could bring my family here and live happily for the rest of my life.
Thursday, March 31, 2016
Monday, March 28, 2016
State of the Writing
So. Writing. Yeah.
This past fall I was actually writing a lot, but suffering from commitment issues. I kept switching between three different projects, and dithering over which was the "real" one to focus on. I see now that I was feeling a little gun-shy. Now that I've finished a novel, I know what a long, hard haul it's going to be. I see people going through something similar when they're deciding to have a second child.
In January my life fell apart a little bit and for a while there writing was the last thing on my mind. I won't bore you with all the details, but suffice it to say that the following shit all happened within a two-month span:
*long-estranged family member re-entered my life
*The Husband's illness flared, he went on disability for a month, and contracted c.diff
*The Son had strep
*my car died and we had to buy a new one
*the first floor of our house flooded in a freak winter rainstorm
*our sewer line stopped functioning and we had serious water issues for over a month, leading to laundry and personal hygiene issues that are best glossed over
*more family drama
The upside is that in the middle of all this I was pretty much desperate to escape the stress/disease/filth, so dove back into writing head-first. I've been working away on Mender for the last two weeks. I have 7,500 words so far, and (fingers crossed, knock wood) I'm pretty stoked about how it's unfolding so far. I'm definitely writing the exact book I'd like to be reading right now, which is never a bad thing.
I'm not setting word count goals at the moment. For one thing, I'm still dicking around with the outline and making changes. As usual, the first 1/3 or so of the story just poured out of me when the idea for the book solidified; if past experience is any indictor, this chunk of the book won't change much in future drafts. But, also as usual, I'm floundering around trying to figure out the rest of the story. I tend to jam way too many events into my plots, I think because I'm nervous about Not Enough Happening, which can lead to sagging middle syndrome. But instead, I wind up with Too Much Happening, which leads to not having the space to fully develop all my story threads. In the case of Mender, this is further complicated by the fact that it's the first book in a quartet. If I manage to sell this one, I'll have to live with the consequences of plot decisions I make now for three more books. And I recently figured out that I'd stuffed a whole story line into this book that really belongs in the next one, which means I've had to dismantle the plot yet again and try to put the pieces back together into something that's a gripping, action-packed yarn, yet fits into a book of 100-120 K.
The other reason I'm not rushing at the moment is that I'm trying to get the tone right. The tone of Mender is quite different from the tone of The Owl Bearer. I recently read 2K to 10K by Rachel Aaron, and she says that one of the things she has to have nailed before she begins the book is the voice of it. "Nothing is more pervasive than tone," she writes, and oh my dog is that ever the truth. The approach I took with TOB-- just getting the story down and worrying about making it "sound good" later-- was fine in theory but in practice led to more extensive revisions than I ever want to do again. So I'm fussing over the opening chapters of M, trying to make sure I've nailed the sorta-historical Fantasy tone I'm going for.
And that is the State of the Writing. Peace out.
This past fall I was actually writing a lot, but suffering from commitment issues. I kept switching between three different projects, and dithering over which was the "real" one to focus on. I see now that I was feeling a little gun-shy. Now that I've finished a novel, I know what a long, hard haul it's going to be. I see people going through something similar when they're deciding to have a second child.
In January my life fell apart a little bit and for a while there writing was the last thing on my mind. I won't bore you with all the details, but suffice it to say that the following shit all happened within a two-month span:
*long-estranged family member re-entered my life
*The Husband's illness flared, he went on disability for a month, and contracted c.diff
*The Son had strep
*my car died and we had to buy a new one
*the first floor of our house flooded in a freak winter rainstorm
*our sewer line stopped functioning and we had serious water issues for over a month, leading to laundry and personal hygiene issues that are best glossed over
*more family drama
The upside is that in the middle of all this I was pretty much desperate to escape the stress/disease/filth, so dove back into writing head-first. I've been working away on Mender for the last two weeks. I have 7,500 words so far, and (fingers crossed, knock wood) I'm pretty stoked about how it's unfolding so far. I'm definitely writing the exact book I'd like to be reading right now, which is never a bad thing.
I'm not setting word count goals at the moment. For one thing, I'm still dicking around with the outline and making changes. As usual, the first 1/3 or so of the story just poured out of me when the idea for the book solidified; if past experience is any indictor, this chunk of the book won't change much in future drafts. But, also as usual, I'm floundering around trying to figure out the rest of the story. I tend to jam way too many events into my plots, I think because I'm nervous about Not Enough Happening, which can lead to sagging middle syndrome. But instead, I wind up with Too Much Happening, which leads to not having the space to fully develop all my story threads. In the case of Mender, this is further complicated by the fact that it's the first book in a quartet. If I manage to sell this one, I'll have to live with the consequences of plot decisions I make now for three more books. And I recently figured out that I'd stuffed a whole story line into this book that really belongs in the next one, which means I've had to dismantle the plot yet again and try to put the pieces back together into something that's a gripping, action-packed yarn, yet fits into a book of 100-120 K.
The other reason I'm not rushing at the moment is that I'm trying to get the tone right. The tone of Mender is quite different from the tone of The Owl Bearer. I recently read 2K to 10K by Rachel Aaron, and she says that one of the things she has to have nailed before she begins the book is the voice of it. "Nothing is more pervasive than tone," she writes, and oh my dog is that ever the truth. The approach I took with TOB-- just getting the story down and worrying about making it "sound good" later-- was fine in theory but in practice led to more extensive revisions than I ever want to do again. So I'm fussing over the opening chapters of M, trying to make sure I've nailed the sorta-historical Fantasy tone I'm going for.
And that is the State of the Writing. Peace out.
Thursday, March 24, 2016
Slinking Back
Lord, I've been terrible with keeping up with the blog this year.
So I'm writing a new book! Mender. I should say some stuff about that.
Continuing to query The Owl Bearer. I should say some stuff about that, too.
But for today, I will return to blogging by participating in this "list" challenge. I think it's meant to go on instagram, or some other Mybook/Facespace nonsense I am too old and cranky to learn about. So I'm doing it here!
Week 1: Spring for me is...
1) Inevitable late-March/early-April snowstorms.
2) Dirt roads turned to mud.
3) Pails hanging on sugar maples, and smoke curling up from sugar shacks in backyards.
4) Crocuses pushing up through dead leaves.
5) Fawns left to nap in our ferns.
6) Easter egg hunts in the woods.
7) Waking up one day to a haze of green buds on all the trees.
8) College students sunbathing in bikinis on the green in 60-degree F weather.
9) Tulips in the window boxes in town.
10) Having to worry about bears.
So I'm writing a new book! Mender. I should say some stuff about that.
Continuing to query The Owl Bearer. I should say some stuff about that, too.
But for today, I will return to blogging by participating in this "list" challenge. I think it's meant to go on instagram, or some other Mybook/Facespace nonsense I am too old and cranky to learn about. So I'm doing it here!
Week 1: Spring for me is...
1) Inevitable late-March/early-April snowstorms.
2) Dirt roads turned to mud.
3) Pails hanging on sugar maples, and smoke curling up from sugar shacks in backyards.
4) Crocuses pushing up through dead leaves.
5) Fawns left to nap in our ferns.
6) Easter egg hunts in the woods.
7) Waking up one day to a haze of green buds on all the trees.
8) College students sunbathing in bikinis on the green in 60-degree F weather.
9) Tulips in the window boxes in town.
10) Having to worry about bears.
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