Let it be known that on this day, 12/12/12, I am back in the novel selling business! Wild Children is out, published by Curiosity Quills, and for those who want a copy here is their web page with links to order, or the US Amazon page if you want to skip straight to that. The process has been one disaster after another as my cursed luck tried to stop me from being published, but victory is mine at last. I want to thank my publisher Curiosity Quills, in fact. They soldiered on despite multiple hospitalizations, real life threatening stuff. Right now only the ereader version is out, but they do paper copies so that should be on the way. Heck, I've seen the interior .pdfs and this book is SO GORGEOUS.
Oh, and they set up a Facebook author page for me! It will be a mix of theirs and mine. We're getting me linked up as one of its administrators right now.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Saturday, December 8, 2012
A New Doll House Story
So, I've been hard at work doing Authory Stuff, which is basically writing. I just finished another Doll House story, Doll House: Amethyst, which I will link to below this paragraph! As far as I know, Curiosity Quills only wants my books, but I'll run it past them before publishing it online. A short story gave me a nice break between books, clearing my head enough that I will likely do the major edits on Please Don't Tell My Parents I'm A Supervillain next. My 'ol buddy Albert Berg said he thinks the later fights need to be more tense, and he's right, so I gotta fix that. You can't be good at something if you're not willing to do it right.
For your enjoyment: The draft version of Doll House: Amethyst.
On a side note, I finally changed my blog photo. If current publishing dates hold, I may soon be selling enough books to matter. While I was absolutely a nobody, random internet art was fine. I can't use art I don't own if it's even kinda helping make money. It might be illegal, and it's for damn sure rude. Fortunately, I have old cover art that I legally own to take samples from!
For your enjoyment: The draft version of Doll House: Amethyst.
On a side note, I finally changed my blog photo. If current publishing dates hold, I may soon be selling enough books to matter. While I was absolutely a nobody, random internet art was fine. I can't use art I don't own if it's even kinda helping make money. It might be illegal, and it's for damn sure rude. Fortunately, I have old cover art that I legally own to take samples from!
Monday, October 29, 2012
And That's #4!
Ladies and gentlemen and mysterious future beings who will read this blog to learn what an unsavory person their favorite author is, I finished the book! Please Don't Tell My Parents I'm A Supervillain is written! I just shopped the manuscript around to a bunch of friends of various levels of friendliness. What they do and don't like will be very instructive, here. I'm far less confident that this book is any good than I have been with others. I wanted to write a light-hearted, gentle book, and this is as pleasant as I can get. The problem is, I don't know if I have the skills to write a gripping narrative that doesn't involve misery and death!
Soon, I shall know if the book is any good. After that, once my head is clear I'll need to do a proofreading run on my own - tying up loose ends, making sure references from the end of the book match the beginning, tightening language, correcting typos, all that sort of jazz. Then, unless I've learned it's an utter failure, I offer it to my publisher and see if they're interested!
Presumably I'll be writing other things some time in the interim. I'd like to do some short stories, but I'll have to see how fast Metal, Candy, Flesh takes over my brain. I'm still reeling and it hasn't entirely penetrated this book is finished, so I can't predict.
Oh, and I wrote the last twelve thousand words in one day. THAT was CRAZY.
Soon, I shall know if the book is any good. After that, once my head is clear I'll need to do a proofreading run on my own - tying up loose ends, making sure references from the end of the book match the beginning, tightening language, correcting typos, all that sort of jazz. Then, unless I've learned it's an utter failure, I offer it to my publisher and see if they're interested!
Presumably I'll be writing other things some time in the interim. I'd like to do some short stories, but I'll have to see how fast Metal, Candy, Flesh takes over my brain. I'm still reeling and it hasn't entirely penetrated this book is finished, so I can't predict.
Oh, and I wrote the last twelve thousand words in one day. THAT was CRAZY.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
So Close
Moments ago I finished writing the second to last chapter of Please Don't Tell My Parents I'm A Supervillain. One left. It will be a big chapter and may be broken up into multiples later, but structurally it makes sense to write it as one.
I hope my sanity holds up. I get very obsessive and impatient this close to the end. That resulted in the last chapter of Quite Contrary being very sub-par and needing to be rewritten entirely. I do not intend for that to happen again.
Soon, book four will be complete, and I'll shop around copies to my writer friends to find out if it's any good.
I hope my sanity holds up. I get very obsessive and impatient this close to the end. That resulted in the last chapter of Quite Contrary being very sub-par and needing to be rewritten entirely. I do not intend for that to happen again.
Soon, book four will be complete, and I'll shop around copies to my writer friends to find out if it's any good.
Monday, September 10, 2012
And Then It Did
Good news! Verity is out of the hospital and on track for a full recovery. We finished up the editing on Wild Children. I am now officially done with my responsibilities for all three books, and publishing can move ahead! I can also clear my head of those books and focus on writing new ones.
Apropos of nothing, here are three quotes I really like:
"There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed." - Ernest Hemingway
"When you stand before me and look at me, what do you know of the pain in me, and what I do I know of yours? And if I threw myself to the ground before you and cried and told you, what would you know more of me than of hell, if somebody told you that it is hot and terrible? For that reason alone we humans should should face each other so reverent, so thoughtful, so loving as if facing the gates of hell." - Franz Kafka
“Critics who treat 'adult' as a term of approval, instead of as a merely descriptive term, cannot be adult themselves. To be concerned about being grown up, to admire the grown up because it is grown up, to blush at the suspicion of being childish; these things are the marks of childhood and adolescence. And in childhood and adolescence they are, in moderation, healthy symptoms. Young things ought to want to grow. But to carry on into middle life or even into early manhood this concern about being adult is a mark of really arrested development. When I was ten, I read fairy tales in secret and would have been ashamed if I had been found doing so. Now that I am fifty I read them openly. When I became a man I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up. - C. S. Lewis
Apropos of nothing, here are three quotes I really like:
"There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed." - Ernest Hemingway
"When you stand before me and look at me, what do you know of the pain in me, and what I do I know of yours? And if I threw myself to the ground before you and cried and told you, what would you know more of me than of hell, if somebody told you that it is hot and terrible? For that reason alone we humans should should face each other so reverent, so thoughtful, so loving as if facing the gates of hell." - Franz Kafka
“Critics who treat 'adult' as a term of approval, instead of as a merely descriptive term, cannot be adult themselves. To be concerned about being grown up, to admire the grown up because it is grown up, to blush at the suspicion of being childish; these things are the marks of childhood and adolescence. And in childhood and adolescence they are, in moderation, healthy symptoms. Young things ought to want to grow. But to carry on into middle life or even into early manhood this concern about being adult is a mark of really arrested development. When I was ten, I read fairy tales in secret and would have been ashamed if I had been found doing so. Now that I am fifty I read them openly. When I became a man I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up. - C. S. Lewis
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Well, That Didn't Happen
TOPIC #1
Okay, so I've been engaging in one of mankind's most predictable stupidities, holding off on anything else until the great project in front of me is over. That was book editing, and the editing of Wild Children dragged on and on, and I am only free now because it has been semi-sorta-canceled. My editor is in the hospital again, and this time it's serious and I am crossing my fingers for her, even the evil fingers. I hope everyone else will, too.
TOPIC #2
Please Don't Tell My Parents I'm A Supervillain has actually continued apace during this entire process. I think I just finished chapter 14? The problem there is that I can't post the WHOLE book online if I intend to get it published. I've reached the point where I reluctantly decided I should stop putting chapters on my blog.
TOPIC #3
I think I need a nap.
Okay, so I've been engaging in one of mankind's most predictable stupidities, holding off on anything else until the great project in front of me is over. That was book editing, and the editing of Wild Children dragged on and on, and I am only free now because it has been semi-sorta-canceled. My editor is in the hospital again, and this time it's serious and I am crossing my fingers for her, even the evil fingers. I hope everyone else will, too.
TOPIC #2
Please Don't Tell My Parents I'm A Supervillain has actually continued apace during this entire process. I think I just finished chapter 14? The problem there is that I can't post the WHOLE book online if I intend to get it published. I've reached the point where I reluctantly decided I should stop putting chapters on my blog.
TOPIC #3
I think I need a nap.
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Snow White And The Betrayed Writer
I have just returned from seeing Snow White And The Huntsman at the movie theater, and I felt compelled, even obligated by duty to blog about it. Not because movie reviews are in any way my job, but because I have an opinion on this movie specifically as a writer.
First, I didn't like the movie. I hated the movie. It angered me. I still liked seeing it once for the thinking it provoked. I was struck very early on while watching it by a disconnect. I was idly evaluating the writing, because even in a bad movie there are lessons to be learned. What I noticed was that the dialog and events did not seem to belong to the actual movie I watched. As the movie went on, my opinion crystalized. Snow White And The Huntsman is a well written movie directed horribly. The story is a classic fairy tale, padded with lots of new fairy tale stuff to make it movie length. It has monsters and birds that lead the innocent girl to a snowy white horse, and a dark forest, and a wicked enchantress. The story is grand and fantastic, as in 'a fantasy', wholly unrealistic and aiming at dramatic and archtypal instead.
The movie is directed like Braveheart. Actually, the director seems to have seen a number of movies he liked, and scenes that as written could be depicted any number of ways became eerily reminiscent of LOTR, the Narnia movies, and a very blatant rip from Mononoke Hime. But mostly he arranged costumes, music, makeup, and directed the acting to be gritty and realistic. Lots of dirty, tangled hair, very little background music, stuttering performances where people stop to have moments of weakness. This does not combine well with a fairy tale story. The most fantastic and magical moments, with the troll and the White Hart, and the fairies, and so on, and a fair amount more so on, look utterly ridiculous and out of place. Similarly, you can't get interested in or process the human drama of the actors' portrayals, because every once in awhile someone will give a ridiculously hokey speech, or do something as unlikely and stylized as finding a white horse waiting for her outside the castle.
In some cases the directing and writing didn't just clash, the director didn't seem to know what he was reading. When a dwarf dies, he's all gasping and panicking. A single tear falls from Snow White's cheek onto his, and he calms down. He still dies, but he dies bravely and at peace. Except the director didn't get the memo, and while it happened, I had to be looking for it. I was looking for it, because they'd just had a scene where the originally surly and almost evil dwarfs warm up to Snow White around a campfire. The scene as written was one where Snow White's beauty and purity compelled them to love her, as it does everyone in the movie. It came off as a random and squalid dwarf party, made worse by one dwarf being really stalkery and pressing his face to her breasts. And how do I know what it was supposed to be like? Because, after sitting there noticing all this, a couple of scenes later the blind prophet dwarf explains specifically that Snow White has this effect on people. It had been going on all through the movie, it was just hard to see because the director either didn't figure it out, or his determination to make the actors behave like vulnerable and realistic human beings obscured it.
When Snow White rises from the dead after being poisoned, the blind dwarf turns to look before she walks out the door of the church. Except the director already had background people moving around, and the process goes so fast it looks like she's already left the building. Then she gives a grand and symbolic speech that's wildly out of character that everyone acts like is totally wise and moving even though it's glaringly weird. She mentions in passing in the speech that when the evil enchantress killed her she learned all about her magic and destiny and stuff, but it disappears in this speech that seems awkward because Snow White delivers it in a mud-colored courtyard, in the rain, surrounded by filthy and haggard people, in a cracking voice. If the director had so much as added a white glow or cleaned her up to her white dress, it would have been delivered wisdom from beyond the grave.
To sum up: A well written movie ruined by an incompetent director who seemed to want to make a different movie. Actually, several different specific movies. As a writer, this interested me, so I am sharing my reaction.
First, I didn't like the movie. I hated the movie. It angered me. I still liked seeing it once for the thinking it provoked. I was struck very early on while watching it by a disconnect. I was idly evaluating the writing, because even in a bad movie there are lessons to be learned. What I noticed was that the dialog and events did not seem to belong to the actual movie I watched. As the movie went on, my opinion crystalized. Snow White And The Huntsman is a well written movie directed horribly. The story is a classic fairy tale, padded with lots of new fairy tale stuff to make it movie length. It has monsters and birds that lead the innocent girl to a snowy white horse, and a dark forest, and a wicked enchantress. The story is grand and fantastic, as in 'a fantasy', wholly unrealistic and aiming at dramatic and archtypal instead.
The movie is directed like Braveheart. Actually, the director seems to have seen a number of movies he liked, and scenes that as written could be depicted any number of ways became eerily reminiscent of LOTR, the Narnia movies, and a very blatant rip from Mononoke Hime. But mostly he arranged costumes, music, makeup, and directed the acting to be gritty and realistic. Lots of dirty, tangled hair, very little background music, stuttering performances where people stop to have moments of weakness. This does not combine well with a fairy tale story. The most fantastic and magical moments, with the troll and the White Hart, and the fairies, and so on, and a fair amount more so on, look utterly ridiculous and out of place. Similarly, you can't get interested in or process the human drama of the actors' portrayals, because every once in awhile someone will give a ridiculously hokey speech, or do something as unlikely and stylized as finding a white horse waiting for her outside the castle.
In some cases the directing and writing didn't just clash, the director didn't seem to know what he was reading. When a dwarf dies, he's all gasping and panicking. A single tear falls from Snow White's cheek onto his, and he calms down. He still dies, but he dies bravely and at peace. Except the director didn't get the memo, and while it happened, I had to be looking for it. I was looking for it, because they'd just had a scene where the originally surly and almost evil dwarfs warm up to Snow White around a campfire. The scene as written was one where Snow White's beauty and purity compelled them to love her, as it does everyone in the movie. It came off as a random and squalid dwarf party, made worse by one dwarf being really stalkery and pressing his face to her breasts. And how do I know what it was supposed to be like? Because, after sitting there noticing all this, a couple of scenes later the blind prophet dwarf explains specifically that Snow White has this effect on people. It had been going on all through the movie, it was just hard to see because the director either didn't figure it out, or his determination to make the actors behave like vulnerable and realistic human beings obscured it.
When Snow White rises from the dead after being poisoned, the blind dwarf turns to look before she walks out the door of the church. Except the director already had background people moving around, and the process goes so fast it looks like she's already left the building. Then she gives a grand and symbolic speech that's wildly out of character that everyone acts like is totally wise and moving even though it's glaringly weird. She mentions in passing in the speech that when the evil enchantress killed her she learned all about her magic and destiny and stuff, but it disappears in this speech that seems awkward because Snow White delivers it in a mud-colored courtyard, in the rain, surrounded by filthy and haggard people, in a cracking voice. If the director had so much as added a white glow or cleaned her up to her white dress, it would have been delivered wisdom from beyond the grave.
To sum up: A well written movie ruined by an incompetent director who seemed to want to make a different movie. Actually, several different specific movies. As a writer, this interested me, so I am sharing my reaction.
Monday, June 11, 2012
As For My Writing
BLOOOOOOG!
Every time life goes 'pbbbt' on me, I stop blogging for awhile. Tres bad habit. I'm tryin', folks. I had a particularly bad week there where every friend I've got had an emotional meltdown, and while it's a good thing I was feeling just fine and able to support them, boy did it tire me out.
Finished editing Quite Contrary, I don't know, about a week ago? I'm so bad at time. The line edits took very little time on my part. I did the first round, the biggest round where the book came back covered in little yellow and red notes, in a single day. Curiosity Quills' editors remain friendly and easy to work with. Vicki, it was truly a pleasure, but I confess you did not beat out Verity for the title of 'favorite editor ever'. Still, 'it was a pleasure to work with you' is not a compliment many editors deserve, and you should feel truly chuffed. Quite Contrary was much more raw than Sweet Dreams. I'd only proofread it once myself. Much more needed fixing up, and Vicki and I went back and forth several rounds on some issues until one of us convinced the other. To my fellow writers out there, if that sounds distinctly un-terrifying, it was distinctly un-terrifying.
So Quite Contrary is done. I haven't gotten the 'official' manuscript back, but since the last email consisted of 'remove this one entire page and we're through' I've bloody well got the unofficial manuscript, if you know what I mean. I haven't heard about Wild Children yet. I insisted on no story level edits, but I'm sure the line editor is even now wreaking havoc on the stilted language and incomprehensible comma strategy of three books ago. I haven't heard much of anything from Curiosity Quills, but this is no surprise or worry to me. It's been strongly hinted that I'm well ahead of the normal editing schedule, so they might have nothing TO say to me for a month. That would be a month to get back into Please Don't Tell My Parents I'm A Supervillain, which would be a relief.
Speaking of Please Don't Tell My Parents I'm A Supervillain, editing blows the spoot out of my inspiration, but my brain is back on track and I'm loving it. Have another chapter!
Chapter 9: Welcome To The Community
Every time life goes 'pbbbt' on me, I stop blogging for awhile. Tres bad habit. I'm tryin', folks. I had a particularly bad week there where every friend I've got had an emotional meltdown, and while it's a good thing I was feeling just fine and able to support them, boy did it tire me out.
Finished editing Quite Contrary, I don't know, about a week ago? I'm so bad at time. The line edits took very little time on my part. I did the first round, the biggest round where the book came back covered in little yellow and red notes, in a single day. Curiosity Quills' editors remain friendly and easy to work with. Vicki, it was truly a pleasure, but I confess you did not beat out Verity for the title of 'favorite editor ever'. Still, 'it was a pleasure to work with you' is not a compliment many editors deserve, and you should feel truly chuffed. Quite Contrary was much more raw than Sweet Dreams. I'd only proofread it once myself. Much more needed fixing up, and Vicki and I went back and forth several rounds on some issues until one of us convinced the other. To my fellow writers out there, if that sounds distinctly un-terrifying, it was distinctly un-terrifying.
So Quite Contrary is done. I haven't gotten the 'official' manuscript back, but since the last email consisted of 'remove this one entire page and we're through' I've bloody well got the unofficial manuscript, if you know what I mean. I haven't heard about Wild Children yet. I insisted on no story level edits, but I'm sure the line editor is even now wreaking havoc on the stilted language and incomprehensible comma strategy of three books ago. I haven't heard much of anything from Curiosity Quills, but this is no surprise or worry to me. It's been strongly hinted that I'm well ahead of the normal editing schedule, so they might have nothing TO say to me for a month. That would be a month to get back into Please Don't Tell My Parents I'm A Supervillain, which would be a relief.
Speaking of Please Don't Tell My Parents I'm A Supervillain, editing blows the spoot out of my inspiration, but my brain is back on track and I'm loving it. Have another chapter!
Chapter 9: Welcome To The Community
Review: Whitechapel Gods
So, as a writer, apparently it behooves me to review the books I read! Of course, the hooves are specifically for the dark horse independent books, but what's good for the pony is good for the clydesdale and if I review independents, I should review mainstreams.
Which leaves me having just (for a given value of 'just') read Whitechapel Gods by S.M.Peters. I'm going to give it five stars on Amazon, no question. My enjoyment was fulsome and invigorating.
For those wondering if they should read it, I'll summarize the theme, but not the story: Victorian Whitechapel is in the grip of two mechanical gods, Mama Engine and Grandfather Clock. These steampunk deities are not fanciful or pretty. They are corrupting, merciless, and alien, grinding up humanity in the gears of the new world they're creating or, worse, loving us to death. The story follows British Crown spies, mutated revolutionaries, a psychotic ex-whore, and an Oliver Twist Fagin figure of diabolic evil. It is, as it sounds, a moderately dark book with few survivors and much blood and oil spilled. On the other hand, it nowhere tries to be depressing, just rough. That fit very well with me.
Technically, I was very pleased and mildly impressed. This is relevant, because my professional standards are brutally high. The bizarro world of steampunk Whitechapel is immersive and believable. You are dropped straight into it with damn few explanations of anything and forced to cope, which puts you well into the mindset of the main characters. The PoV switches around at a carefully measured pace, giving you empathy with all the major characters without being disruptive to immersion. Descriptive text is vivid without being purple, and just specific enough to make you fill in the details in your imagination. The story was tight, and I was particularly impressed how Peters included several points where the good guys seem to fail, but keeps the story dragging by immediately switching PoVs to show that the fight is not over and move you straight into the tension of the next plot arc. Good stuff.
I have one single complaint, and it's quite minor. The descriptive text, so excellent in Whitechapel itself, is too nonspecific in what I will call the 'mystical' sections of the book. Those are very brief, but I found the action hard to follow during those scenes.
All in all, a great book, and one of a very unusual style that suits me well. S. M. Peters is a skilled author and I'm now making a note to see what else he's written.
Which leaves me having just (for a given value of 'just') read Whitechapel Gods by S.M.Peters. I'm going to give it five stars on Amazon, no question. My enjoyment was fulsome and invigorating.
For those wondering if they should read it, I'll summarize the theme, but not the story: Victorian Whitechapel is in the grip of two mechanical gods, Mama Engine and Grandfather Clock. These steampunk deities are not fanciful or pretty. They are corrupting, merciless, and alien, grinding up humanity in the gears of the new world they're creating or, worse, loving us to death. The story follows British Crown spies, mutated revolutionaries, a psychotic ex-whore, and an Oliver Twist Fagin figure of diabolic evil. It is, as it sounds, a moderately dark book with few survivors and much blood and oil spilled. On the other hand, it nowhere tries to be depressing, just rough. That fit very well with me.
Technically, I was very pleased and mildly impressed. This is relevant, because my professional standards are brutally high. The bizarro world of steampunk Whitechapel is immersive and believable. You are dropped straight into it with damn few explanations of anything and forced to cope, which puts you well into the mindset of the main characters. The PoV switches around at a carefully measured pace, giving you empathy with all the major characters without being disruptive to immersion. Descriptive text is vivid without being purple, and just specific enough to make you fill in the details in your imagination. The story was tight, and I was particularly impressed how Peters included several points where the good guys seem to fail, but keeps the story dragging by immediately switching PoVs to show that the fight is not over and move you straight into the tension of the next plot arc. Good stuff.
I have one single complaint, and it's quite minor. The descriptive text, so excellent in Whitechapel itself, is too nonspecific in what I will call the 'mystical' sections of the book. Those are very brief, but I found the action hard to follow during those scenes.
All in all, a great book, and one of a very unusual style that suits me well. S. M. Peters is a skilled author and I'm now making a note to see what else he's written.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Duck Update
He's still there. Driving down the lane towards my driveway, the mallard stepped out into the middle of the road and watched me as I swerved around him. I just lost some kind of contest.
Also, editing notes for Quite Contrary just arrived. I have a busy weekend ahead.
Also, editing notes for Quite Contrary just arrived. I have a busy weekend ahead.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Sorry To Have Left You Hanging
Getting published and editing and whatnot may have slowed me down, but there's no way I'm abandoning Please Don't Tell My Parents I'm A Supervillain. I'm in a hurry today, so here's quick links to the latest chapters. I also gotta figure out when to stop posting, especially since publication is almost guaranteed.
Chapter 7, Wherein Claire Will Fix Everything
Chapter 8, Wherein Names Are Named
Chapter 7, Wherein Claire Will Fix Everything
Chapter 8, Wherein Names Are Named
Thursday, May 10, 2012
The Editing Experience
I just (yesterday) finished the editing process for Sweet Dreams Are Made Of Teeth with my new publisher, Curiosity Quills. It finished off with a long Google Chat session with my editor for that book, and I thought it would be neat to discuss how it all went!
First, there are two levels of editing at CQ. They have an intake editor who decides what books are accepted, and she does the first round. These are 'story edits', things that need to be changed to make the book publishable. In my case, this went very smoothly. Wild Children I insisted on no story edits to, but I'm not sure they wanted any. Sweet Dreams got no story edits at all. Quite Contrary, a book I wrote knowing it would be hard for any market to swallow, got only three. She asked for the swearing to be reduced (not eliminated). I didn't mind that. She asked for the fairy tale at the end to be updated... enough that I had to rewrite it from scratch. I knew I'd have to do that already. It just wasn't as good as the rest of the book, and was too important to leave feeling out of place. She asked for Mary's age to be changed from nine to twelve. I didn't like that, but it's an easy change to make and I trusted her judgment that from the reader's perspective Mary can't pass as nine. Once I made the change, it reads very well to me, so I no longer mind at all. The rewritten chapter took about a week. The other edits... maybe three hours total.
The second level of editing is 'line editing', which is what I just finished. I swear, I have never worked with such a nice editor, professionally or unprofessionally. She was herself a very competent writer with a feel for sentence flow, so most of her offered corrections I could accept without change. She sent me a copy of the manuscript with things that needed changing marked yellow, and her suggested changes or comments in red. All I had to do was mail back a separate file listing any of her changes I didn't accept. Her comments on what was wrong were very simple, like (comma) or (split infinitive) or (tense not consistent). That took the sting out. Being edited is terrifying and painful by nature. A creative work you poured your soul into is being judged and found wanting, over and over. Still, I hadn't gotten too far before it felt less like that and more like discussing touch ups with a friendly co-writer.
Each book gets a different line editor. I am praying the other two are as nice to work with. YOU HEAR ME, CQ?!?! Especially since I expect the Quite Contrary line edits to drop in my lap any minute now.
At the very end, and I don't think this is standard, I had a Google Chat conversation with Sweet Dreams' editor. Some of it was discussing how we felt about the book. I suspect the book is so weird she was probing for marketing copy, but I don't know. A lot of it was just friendly chat. Some of it was making sure I would be available for advertising activities up to and including book signings and tours. I doubt those two will happen any time soon, but the mere suggestion blew me away. One thing I learned is that they publish most novels three months after receiving them, and a few novels like Sweet Dreams six months after. It's based entirely on how much time they think they should spend on prep work like advertising, getting reviews, scheduling events, and making sure the paper(!) versions are ready.
Oh, and she suggested they'd love bonus material for all three books they can include with special sales copies.
So, that's how my week has been! Before that conversation I was editing - and editing, and editing, semi-nonstop for three days.
First, there are two levels of editing at CQ. They have an intake editor who decides what books are accepted, and she does the first round. These are 'story edits', things that need to be changed to make the book publishable. In my case, this went very smoothly. Wild Children I insisted on no story edits to, but I'm not sure they wanted any. Sweet Dreams got no story edits at all. Quite Contrary, a book I wrote knowing it would be hard for any market to swallow, got only three. She asked for the swearing to be reduced (not eliminated). I didn't mind that. She asked for the fairy tale at the end to be updated... enough that I had to rewrite it from scratch. I knew I'd have to do that already. It just wasn't as good as the rest of the book, and was too important to leave feeling out of place. She asked for Mary's age to be changed from nine to twelve. I didn't like that, but it's an easy change to make and I trusted her judgment that from the reader's perspective Mary can't pass as nine. Once I made the change, it reads very well to me, so I no longer mind at all. The rewritten chapter took about a week. The other edits... maybe three hours total.
The second level of editing is 'line editing', which is what I just finished. I swear, I have never worked with such a nice editor, professionally or unprofessionally. She was herself a very competent writer with a feel for sentence flow, so most of her offered corrections I could accept without change. She sent me a copy of the manuscript with things that needed changing marked yellow, and her suggested changes or comments in red. All I had to do was mail back a separate file listing any of her changes I didn't accept. Her comments on what was wrong were very simple, like (comma) or (split infinitive) or (tense not consistent). That took the sting out. Being edited is terrifying and painful by nature. A creative work you poured your soul into is being judged and found wanting, over and over. Still, I hadn't gotten too far before it felt less like that and more like discussing touch ups with a friendly co-writer.
Each book gets a different line editor. I am praying the other two are as nice to work with. YOU HEAR ME, CQ?!?! Especially since I expect the Quite Contrary line edits to drop in my lap any minute now.
At the very end, and I don't think this is standard, I had a Google Chat conversation with Sweet Dreams' editor. Some of it was discussing how we felt about the book. I suspect the book is so weird she was probing for marketing copy, but I don't know. A lot of it was just friendly chat. Some of it was making sure I would be available for advertising activities up to and including book signings and tours. I doubt those two will happen any time soon, but the mere suggestion blew me away. One thing I learned is that they publish most novels three months after receiving them, and a few novels like Sweet Dreams six months after. It's based entirely on how much time they think they should spend on prep work like advertising, getting reviews, scheduling events, and making sure the paper(!) versions are ready.
Oh, and she suggested they'd love bonus material for all three books they can include with special sales copies.
So, that's how my week has been! Before that conversation I was editing - and editing, and editing, semi-nonstop for three days.
Saturday, April 28, 2012
A Pause To Reflect On Nature
I've finished the (admittedly draft) rewrite of the last chapter of Quite Contrary. I've been assigned a new, official editor, and I'm waiting for her to contact me. The one thing I'm absolutely sure she'll want to keep from the temporary editor's requests is a rewrite of the last chapter, so that's no waste of time. It just plain needed fixing. I'm considering revving up my inspiration to resume Please Don't Tell My Parents I'm A Supervillain, but I expect to be hip deep in editing before the week is up. So until then, I have a break. I don't give them to myself, so it's a pleasant feeling.
So this leaves me walking around in the neighborhood, enjoying the sunshine and fresh air and green growing things, when the robin equivalent of Kill Bill breaks out in front of me. There's multiples of these little buggers swooping and tweeting and going after each other. I wish I could have gotten a picture, but it lasted for about three seconds. Three seconds of hardcore avian violence that will scar my innocent mind forever. It was awesome.
In other avian news, I think ducks read my blog, and they're not happy about my descriptions of their demeanor. The fellow pictured below now lives on my front lawn. I look out the window, and there's this duck, watching me. Front lawns are not normal nesting sites for mallards that I'm aware, but he's sticking around.
So this leaves me walking around in the neighborhood, enjoying the sunshine and fresh air and green growing things, when the robin equivalent of Kill Bill breaks out in front of me. There's multiples of these little buggers swooping and tweeting and going after each other. I wish I could have gotten a picture, but it lasted for about three seconds. Three seconds of hardcore avian violence that will scar my innocent mind forever. It was awesome.
In other avian news, I think ducks read my blog, and they're not happy about my descriptions of their demeanor. The fellow pictured below now lives on my front lawn. I look out the window, and there's this duck, watching me. Front lawns are not normal nesting sites for mallards that I'm aware, but he's sticking around.
Friday, April 20, 2012
Let Us Celebrate!
Now that the contracts are signed and they're stuck with me, I would like to thank the good folks at Curiosity Quills for choosing to publish Sweet Dreams Are Made Of Teeth and Quite Contrary! I was totally stunned that they want Quite Contrary. Yes, it's more publishable than Princess Knives And Her Many Fantastic Adventures In Hell, but it's still some harsh little girl stuff. Apparently they like that sort of thing!
Boy, did they sign the right person.
The fuss and the mass of editing involved is slowing down The Inscrutable Machine (which I am definitely going to call Please Don't Tell My Parents I'm A Supervillain from now on) considerably. Right now I'm throwing around inspirations because an entire chapter of Quite Contrary has to be rewritten. In the long term, it means I'll have more to say, more reason to say it, and incentive to write like a fiend!
For those of you following along at home, 'a fiend' is definitely what I write like.
Boy, did they sign the right person.
The fuss and the mass of editing involved is slowing down The Inscrutable Machine (which I am definitely going to call Please Don't Tell My Parents I'm A Supervillain from now on) considerably. Right now I'm throwing around inspirations because an entire chapter of Quite Contrary has to be rewritten. In the long term, it means I'll have more to say, more reason to say it, and incentive to write like a fiend!
For those of you following along at home, 'a fiend' is definitely what I write like.
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Let The Evil Laughter Begin!
I wanted to make this its own chapter. It is a moment I've long awaited - the debut battle for the premier middle school supervillain team, The Inscrutable Machine!
Chapter Six
Chapter Six
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Less Scrutable By The Minute
And now, the dominos begin to fall. I hope the next chapter will be available soon, because it is the end of one part of the book and the beginning of the next. This is, after all, the story of a 13 year old middle school girl supervillain.
Chapter Five!
Chapter Five!
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Anecdotes (Duck Edition)
So, we're going to skip over my unpleasant weekend to talk about the thing that happened just before it all descended into pain and fury. It was a bright and pretty Saturday morning, although quite gusty. I had a big bag of homemade bread that for miscellaneous reasons nobody was going to eat. I thought I'd go feed the ducks.
There's a duck pond nearby, a big cement thing behind an apartment complex. The walk is nice exercise if I go the long way, and I can bring my iSpud and pump myself full of music to inspire me for a day of writing. When I got there I couldn't see any ducks, only the two huge swans who swam right up to the edge of the pond and glared at me because I held food, might hold food, or might be made into food if I didn't pony up some bread. I tossed them a couple of crusts, and while they were busy I found that the duck flock was hidden around the corner of the building. They don't like getting near the swans, but the swans had food and would stay out of the way for awhile. The ducks saw a sucker and beelined for me. It looked like a great day of duck feeding.
Then duck nature took over. Ducks are, basically, feathered bags of spite. I threw out the first piece of bread, and every duck in the pond turned and attacked its neighbor. One single hen or duckess or whatever you call it had her eye on the prize, but in doing so she earned the ire of two mallards, who chased her relentlessly around the pond until I left. It might have been a mating thing, because 'consent' is a concept mallards leave to lesser avians, but none of the other mallards cared. These two just had an obsession. She'd fly to the other side of the pond, and they'd swim right through the flock, setting off more fights among anyone who'd settled down to feed, to attack her again.
Then the wind picked up, and thrashing waves - in a duck pond - swept the entire flock to the far side of the pond. The waves tipped the swans far enough over for me to learn that swans have huge, hideously mottled legs. I decided to go home, my faith in Nature restored.
There's a duck pond nearby, a big cement thing behind an apartment complex. The walk is nice exercise if I go the long way, and I can bring my iSpud and pump myself full of music to inspire me for a day of writing. When I got there I couldn't see any ducks, only the two huge swans who swam right up to the edge of the pond and glared at me because I held food, might hold food, or might be made into food if I didn't pony up some bread. I tossed them a couple of crusts, and while they were busy I found that the duck flock was hidden around the corner of the building. They don't like getting near the swans, but the swans had food and would stay out of the way for awhile. The ducks saw a sucker and beelined for me. It looked like a great day of duck feeding.
Then duck nature took over. Ducks are, basically, feathered bags of spite. I threw out the first piece of bread, and every duck in the pond turned and attacked its neighbor. One single hen or duckess or whatever you call it had her eye on the prize, but in doing so she earned the ire of two mallards, who chased her relentlessly around the pond until I left. It might have been a mating thing, because 'consent' is a concept mallards leave to lesser avians, but none of the other mallards cared. These two just had an obsession. She'd fly to the other side of the pond, and they'd swim right through the flock, setting off more fights among anyone who'd settled down to feed, to attack her again.
Then the wind picked up, and thrashing waves - in a duck pond - swept the entire flock to the far side of the pond. The waves tipped the swans far enough over for me to learn that swans have huge, hideously mottled legs. I decided to go home, my faith in Nature restored.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Another Interruption Over
This will be short, because I need to fall on my face.
It's time to clean up Quite Contrary and start thinking about publishing. I got through the first editing pass on about a quarter of it, then went into writing starvation. So I wrote the next chapter of The Inscrutable Machine in a fit of madness.
Enjoy.
I will fall on my face now.
It's time to clean up Quite Contrary and start thinking about publishing. I got through the first editing pass on about a quarter of it, then went into writing starvation. So I wrote the next chapter of The Inscrutable Machine in a fit of madness.
Enjoy.
I will fall on my face now.
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Back To The Machine!
Sometimes a writer stops and goes 'Where did those five thousand words come from?' I was worried that interrupting The Inscrutable Machine to write a short story would kill my mojo. Apparently not.
Here's Chapter Three!
And now I leave you to it. I'm getting that post-writing collapse, and I have a terrible headache and blah blah blah. Chapter 4 is already plotted out. I could theoretically begin writing it tomorrow.
Here's Chapter Three!
And now I leave you to it. I'm getting that post-writing collapse, and I have a terrible headache and blah blah blah. Chapter 4 is already plotted out. I could theoretically begin writing it tomorrow.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Above The Clouds
So, I got into the last Kindle All Stars anthology, and I want to get into this one coming up. It's young adult, which is right up my alley. Alas, I got all inspired and the story I wrote is too long. Oops.
But that means I can post it here!
It's a Xeno Romeo and Juliet, set in steampunk. I'm really proud of it, and I hope everyone enjoys. I intend to publish it as a free sample of my work in the near future.
But that means I can post it here!
It's a Xeno Romeo and Juliet, set in steampunk. I'm really proud of it, and I hope everyone enjoys. I intend to publish it as a free sample of my work in the near future.
Monday, January 16, 2012
Oh
And yeah, also I finished chapter two.
I'm not needing as much in the way of breaks between chapters as I used to. Not sure what that means and if it will persist.
I'm not needing as much in the way of breaks between chapters as I used to. Not sure what that means and if it will persist.
The Intermediate Lost Boy
Someone quoted Peter Pan online again, recently. This always blows me away, because I have read Peter Pan. I have to wonder if they have, but I don't want to just be rude.
See, Peter Pan is messed up.
I mean, MESSED UP. I write about abused children, I like gothy dark stuff like cannibal serial killer pastel ponies, and 'how many main characters are going to die?' is a good question to ask before picking up anything I write. Peter Pan makes my skin crawl.
It's not the acts that are portrayed. There's a fair amount of murder and spiteful cruelty in Peter Pan, but kids like dramatic tension as much as adults do. What's messed up about Peter Pan is the attitude. Peter Pan is nothing short of a psychopath. Other people's happiness is something he can only barely comprehend. Friendships are entirely about what someone can do for him. He really, really enjoys killing people, and looks forward to his Lost Boys growing up so that he can force them out of his club and make them become pirates and he can butcher them. Morally, he and Captain Hook are not an eyelash apart.
This is presented as the magic of childhood. The good part. Not the wonder of strange things around every corner, or boundless imagination, or the ability to love freely. The book Peter Pan presents Peter as the perfect child and his life as the perfect childhood because it is filled with absolute selfishness and gleeful cruelty. One of the examples of Peter Pan's personality (SPOILER) the book uses is that at the very end Tinkerbell dies, and he doesn't notice or care. Other people have no value to Peter Pan, and again, he's held up as the very model of what childhood should be.
Reading a book saturated with that attitude gave me the heebie-jeebies. Oh, and the passages about how grown women naturally have the hots for Peter because he has all his baby teeth - that was messed up, too.
See, Peter Pan is messed up.
I mean, MESSED UP. I write about abused children, I like gothy dark stuff like cannibal serial killer pastel ponies, and 'how many main characters are going to die?' is a good question to ask before picking up anything I write. Peter Pan makes my skin crawl.
It's not the acts that are portrayed. There's a fair amount of murder and spiteful cruelty in Peter Pan, but kids like dramatic tension as much as adults do. What's messed up about Peter Pan is the attitude. Peter Pan is nothing short of a psychopath. Other people's happiness is something he can only barely comprehend. Friendships are entirely about what someone can do for him. He really, really enjoys killing people, and looks forward to his Lost Boys growing up so that he can force them out of his club and make them become pirates and he can butcher them. Morally, he and Captain Hook are not an eyelash apart.
This is presented as the magic of childhood. The good part. Not the wonder of strange things around every corner, or boundless imagination, or the ability to love freely. The book Peter Pan presents Peter as the perfect child and his life as the perfect childhood because it is filled with absolute selfishness and gleeful cruelty. One of the examples of Peter Pan's personality (SPOILER) the book uses is that at the very end Tinkerbell dies, and he doesn't notice or care. Other people have no value to Peter Pan, and again, he's held up as the very model of what childhood should be.
Reading a book saturated with that attitude gave me the heebie-jeebies. Oh, and the passages about how grown women naturally have the hots for Peter because he has all his baby teeth - that was messed up, too.
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Where Did The Time Go?
Needless to say, since all of my characters are crazy, so am I. The special neural chemistry that produces angry, abused Little Red Riding Hoods and dreamland paper streamer goldfish relies heavily on good 'ol bipolar disorder.
One of bipolar's fun little quirks is 'manic related insomnia.' Sleep requires relaxation. It's quite hard to relax when you're manic, even a little manic. You tend to stay up late, or wake up and have trouble getting back to sleep. This has an interesting side effect. In order to remain functional when you're low on sleep, you get more manic! And that increased mania makes it harder to sleep. This cycle is quite capable of proceeding until you're bouncing off the walls and have to be hospitalized. I've watched it happen.
Thankfully, my bipolar's fairly mild. The insomnia's not going to rev up until I'm hospitalized. Instead, it'll rev up until, like Thursday, I've had less than four hours of sleep and I'm incapable of doing anything that requires thought that day. Then, in desperation, I take a magical drug called 'seroquel' for a few days. Seroquel is very, very strong. The first day, like yesterday, I'm usually so tired and doped up I'm incapable of doing anything that requires thought. Fortunately, I adapt quickly. Today I'm mostly functional, which means I should probably increase the dose (I'm taking really tiny amounts) tonight.
So what I'm sayin' is, I'm in the middle of Chapter 2, but I didn't get any writing done the last couple of days. Hopefully some today!
One of bipolar's fun little quirks is 'manic related insomnia.' Sleep requires relaxation. It's quite hard to relax when you're manic, even a little manic. You tend to stay up late, or wake up and have trouble getting back to sleep. This has an interesting side effect. In order to remain functional when you're low on sleep, you get more manic! And that increased mania makes it harder to sleep. This cycle is quite capable of proceeding until you're bouncing off the walls and have to be hospitalized. I've watched it happen.
Thankfully, my bipolar's fairly mild. The insomnia's not going to rev up until I'm hospitalized. Instead, it'll rev up until, like Thursday, I've had less than four hours of sleep and I'm incapable of doing anything that requires thought that day. Then, in desperation, I take a magical drug called 'seroquel' for a few days. Seroquel is very, very strong. The first day, like yesterday, I'm usually so tired and doped up I'm incapable of doing anything that requires thought. Fortunately, I adapt quickly. Today I'm mostly functional, which means I should probably increase the dose (I'm taking really tiny amounts) tonight.
So what I'm sayin' is, I'm in the middle of Chapter 2, but I didn't get any writing done the last couple of days. Hopefully some today!
Sunday, January 8, 2012
You Can't Scrute The Machine!
Oh, writing feels SO GOOD. Okay, long break over. It ended the way writing breaks should, with me desperately writing something because my brain was about to explode and I couldn't sleep at night for the ideas.
Here, have Chapter One!
In case I haven't mentioned it fifty times, this is the beginning of The Inscrutable Machine, a book about a middle school girl supervillain. Quite Contrary filled me with a burning passion, but it was dark. It kept getting darker, and by the end it just wrung me completely dry of darkness for awhile. I'm going to try to keep The Inscrutable Machine light and frothy.
Yeah, good luck with that.
As an interesting note, I kept feeling that I wasn't ready to start writing it. I had too many unanswered questions about the story. Then I absolutely had to write, so I started it. After that first page, everything began falling into line. I understood the context, and was able to finish my outlines and plan for what comes next. That layered 'theory, then practice, then more theory, then more practice' approach is pretty common in my life. Didn't expect to see it in writing.
Here, have Chapter One!
In case I haven't mentioned it fifty times, this is the beginning of The Inscrutable Machine, a book about a middle school girl supervillain. Quite Contrary filled me with a burning passion, but it was dark. It kept getting darker, and by the end it just wrung me completely dry of darkness for awhile. I'm going to try to keep The Inscrutable Machine light and frothy.
Yeah, good luck with that.
As an interesting note, I kept feeling that I wasn't ready to start writing it. I had too many unanswered questions about the story. Then I absolutely had to write, so I started it. After that first page, everything began falling into line. I understood the context, and was able to finish my outlines and plan for what comes next. That layered 'theory, then practice, then more theory, then more practice' approach is pretty common in my life. Didn't expect to see it in writing.
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