[redacted pending review elsewhere]
#52.) Sherman Alexie, The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven.
Brilliant. Go read it now.
Lovely evening today stacking wood and eating food with friends and family. Mmm, food.
- Mood:
sick
But I just can't bring myself to put down some details of my own life. Memoir writing requires amazing fearlessness. I admit that part of my block is around talking about people I know -- even if I disguised relatives and childhood friends so well that no one else could recognize them, they would almost certainly recognize themselves. But part of the block is just me and my own cowardice. This piece would demand an honesty from me that I can't bear to give. Not right now, at least.
All right everybody — I’m about to go quasi-radio-silent for a bit. Tomorrow at the butt-crack of dawn I’ll be leaving for Kentucky, to spend Christmas with my dad (et. al.); so although I’ll have internet access once I get there, you may reasonably expect that my internet appearances will be intermittent at best.
Of course, I’ll probably Tweet.
Because it’s easy, and I’m lazy (and busy).
Anyway, have excellent and happy holidays — everybody, everywhere. Best wishes, good luck, and a superlative New Year to all. I’ll catch up with you when I can.
:)
[Crossposted to/from my website. If you'd like to comment, you can do so either here or there.]
On Thursday our housesitter at the office (which is actually a house, because life is complicated) was packing her things for her imminent departure. She'll be missed. We took a pause in the middle of the day to have some champagne and say our farewells. In the late afternoon a local writer came over -- bearing pizza and wine! -- to say her own farewells, so at least the long day ended happily.
After that, I joined my wife, son, and mother-in-law to drive up to my sister-in-law's house on the horse ranch to celebrate my nephew's seventh birthday. He chose the menu: hot dogs, tacos, broccoli, salad, and plain pasta. An eclectic but sufficiently satisfying meal. Gifts were opened, songs were sung, candles were blown out, cake was consumed, and everyone was merry. We didn't get to stay long, since our kid's bedtime is 7:30, so we headed home and did the sleepytime ritual.
After which I collapsed into an exhausted heap on the couch. We watched some more Jekyll and some Criminal Minds. Eventually I roused myself from my torpor, thinking I should try to write, so I dragged myself over to my computer and put on my headphones.
Everything clicked nicely, and 40 minutes later I had 2,000 words written, putting me past the 40,000 word mark, and concluding part 1 of my work-for-hire novel (Part 2 should be about 20K long, and part 3 another 40K, for a reasonable 100,000 word total). My usual cruising speed is about 2,000 words an hour -- assuming I know what I'm supposed to be writing, and what happens in the scenes, and etc.; otherwise it's, ahem, rather slower -- so I'm pleased to be zipping along at such unusual velocity. The book has a definite and distinctive voice, which helps. If I can get into the voice, it tends to flow.
Unlike yesterday, when I wrote about 5,000 words of news at the day job, and also did some layout work, and came home pretty much exhausted, and didn't write a lick of new fiction, because typing was mine enemy. But perhaps I'll accomplish more this weekend.
And it brought a friend!
Thank you,
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
thatpotteryguy! Did you make the mug? I am assuming. It's lovely! Now to find some fiber.....
- Mood:
cheerful - Music:Wait Wait Don't Tell Me
tea today: peppermintteacup today: the little orange and white Chinese teacup I got at a Chinese grocery in Ann Arbor.
Up too late last night and awoke too early this morning for somebody who's supposed to be sleeping off a sore throat, but I kind of forgot to eat dinner yesterday (yeah, swallowing when your throat hurts sucks) so I got woken up by being hungry. Leftover oatmeal is becoming blueberry oatcakes as we speak, though, never fear, and I am unlikely to waste away.
Tonight, we expect a great big snowdump (It's currently beating up my friends in Maryland and Virginia) and I plan to spend today on more reading. Didn't get as much done yesterday on that front as I wanted--got distracted with side projects, Shadow Unit-related work, and talking to friends about Major Life Issues. Like you do sometimes.
Also made the last December Non-Denominational Gift-Giving Day presents, which I need to package up today and mail out on Monday. Or maybe next Monday, because the nice thing about DNDGGD is that it's not any particular day at all, so as long as you get it done in December, you're all good!
I did read a wonderful very short story yesterday, though. Sherman Alexie's "Distances," which is science fiction and four pages long and one the best after-the-bomb stories I have ever read. Simply amazing. I wish I'd known of its existence when I was writing my comments on my story in JJA's Wastelands anthology, because it would have affected what I said.
But now you know, so you have no excuses. (I've read Alexie's YA fiction, but this is my first time through The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven, and it's just as good as everybody says it is. Not that he needs my hard sell)
I read it, told everybody on twitter how much I loved it, and promptly went back and read it again. It reminds me of, oh. "The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas." Except different and wonderful. But it hits me in the same place, and it's as tiny and perfect and beautifully made.
Got thirty farm fresh eggs at the agricultural co-op on the corner when I went in to see if they carry Ace's dog food (they don't) so I suspect lunch is going to be an omelette. *g*
And now breakfast is ready, so it's time to microwave my beloved barley neck pillow and start that reading. Who would have thought I'd choose a career that was nothing but homework?
- Mood:
lethargic - Music: (WNPR - Live Stream)
Anyway, if you haven't heard "Hark! The Herald Angels Sing" done with guitars and synthesizers, then you haven't really experienced Christmas. And when we showed up at the concert, we discovered we weren't the only ones who felt that way. We were, however, the youngest people who felt that way. There was a considerable age difference between us and the majority of the concert-goers, which turned out to be a bonus since it meant I could easily outrun all of them to the restrooms at intermission.
My review of the concert is mixed. Now, it's the woe of concert-goers everywhere that when you see a singer or band, you usually want to hear your old favorites. But, of course, performers always want to promote their new stuff. With a Christmas concert, you kind of feel safe because let's face it, all the songs are old favorites, right? Well, not exactly. Mannheim Steamroller has composed some 'new' songs and also pulled out some obscure Medieval jaunty type stuff. I don't mind the minstrel stuff, but I was a bit surprised that it took up the majority of the second half of the concert. It was also set to a backdrop of a screen showing a film of a Renaissance feast.
Again, I have no quarrel with that style, but going into this concert, I was ready to rock it out. I wanted the heavy synthesizer-guitar-bass drum stuff that characterizes their older albums. I expected it to be like Journey and Slayer going on tour together and suddenly bursting out playing "Jingle Bells." MS did certainly rock some stuff out, and "Carol of the Bells" was the show-stealer. But, I wish there had been more of that. I also wish there had been more lasers (okay, any lasers), which I just somehow assumed would be part of a New Age rock band Christmas concert. So, I was a little disappointed by the song list.
I will say that they did a synth-tastic job on "Good King Wenceslas," a song that's now convinced me I should write a script for "Buck Rogers Saves Christmas." I know it's only a matter of time before Buck Rogers is remade, and I want to catch that wave.
lolcatz says what I'm proposing is actually fan fiction, but I think it's the next big thing. New York Times Bestselling Author Richelle Mead might not be able to get Vampire Academy turned into a movie, but surely she can convince someone to make a made-for-TV movie in which Buck Rogers (played by Joe Flanigan) uses synthesizers to teach those 25th century heathens the real meaning of Christmas. And also fights robots with lasers.
In closing, I'll give you a glimpse of those enjoying the magic with us. In the row in front of us was a couple who were actually younger than us, and when they weren't cheering at the songs, they were on each other and making out. Meanwhile, sitting next to my illustrious husband was an elderly gentleman with binoculars. During intermission,
lolcatz got up and then couldn't sit down again because the elderly guy was blocking the aisle, standing with his back to us. Oh, yeah. Said elderly gentleman was also busy massaging a woman's shoulders. And that woman was massaging another woman's shoulders. Yes, that's right. There was a three-way massage train going on in our our row. There wasn't much we could do until intermission ended except exchange astonished looks. I had a better line of sight on the massage a trois and wasn't sure if lolcatz understood the wackiness of the situation, so I held up three fingers--just to make sure it was clear. Then the young couple in front of us started making out again.So, my snarky review aside, I would still heartily recommend MS's early albums, A Fresh Aire Christmas and Mannheim Steamroller Christmas. They've got some awesome stuff on them if you like Christmas music and need something for your holiday get-togethers. Most of it is that rockin' out guitar and synth stuff, with a few of the jaunty tunes thrown in as a nice touch. I can't speak to the newer albums, since I don't own them, but I'm sure there's good stuff there too.
So, thank you, Mannheim Steamroller, for an entertaining night. You are kind and talented people. Your fans have a lot of love for you--and apparently for each other, too. And to quote your own expression, keep on steamrollin' for future Christmases to come.
- Location:Living room
- Mood:
chipper
# of partials/manuscripts requested: 0
As I mentioned last week, I am currently closed to new queries until January 15th.
However, I am still continuing to review, albeit somewhat slowly with my sprained wrist and reduced typing speed, those that were already in the queue. I've appreciated people's support and will, no doubt, continue to be thankful for their patience.
I'm seeing many of my colleagues mention that today is their last day officially at work until the New Year. Our agency is closed from December 24th until January 4th to celebrate the holidays (and probably get in some reading). In January there will be the now-annual query stats of the year, among other things.
Happy holidays.... And in the spirit of the season.....
I keep hoping someday I'll write something that captures how that universe really looks and feels to me. I imagine if I ever swing it, it will be excoriated, but I still think it's a worthy goal. It's awfully neat out there, even if we don't, in the face of it, matter. (Am I unique in not finding that particularly bleak prospect? Sometimes, I think I am. The vast indifference of heaven feels rather inevitable, to me.)
Recently, I've been exposed to two pieces of art that capture that scale, in some regard.
One is here. It's called The Known Universe.
It's a planetarium show from the American Museum of Natural History.
Another is a spoken-word piece by Peter Mulvey, entitled Vlad the Astrophysicist. You can listen to a live recording here. Right-click to download, and crank the volume: it's soft.
I wonder, sometimes, if that is why so many people cling to what they cling to, even when it's patently cruel or ridiculous. Because we are so small, and the universe is so very large, and we matter so little to it. And we are not adapted to deal with that. We are very, inherently, biologically, solipsistic.
But I kind of think all that emptiness is beautiful.
- Mood:
touched - Music:Peter Mulvey - Vlad the Astrophysicist
morning temperature: -1 (with wind chill), 8 withouttea today: bancha. I awoke headache-free this morning, and am declaring myself sufficiently detoxed, though I'm going to stay off the hard stuff for a while.
teacup today: a very pretty brown Chinese-style tea bowl my dad sent me from North Carolina. It's slightly larger than a cannonical Chinese teacup, but smaller (though deeper) than a custard cup.
Still no fever, but the sore throat persists. I believe it to be the source of the cough rather than otherwise. No fever (99 degrees fresh out of a hot shower this morning) and no swollen tonsils. I did have a lymph node that was a bit poky-outy on Monday; suspect it was fighting a rearguard action against the virus. Poor noble lymph node. You will be recollected in the annals. (Mentioned In Dispatches. *g*)
Today, I still have no brain for storytelling, so I am going to work on my book review columns, which means trying to find something to read in this pile of somewhat scary books with naked backs and slave collar imagery that doesn't bounce off the nearest available wall inside of ten pages. Wish me luck.
In other news, a little link salad for a Friday morning:
Monster fireball dominates Geminid sky--a really spectacular APOD today. One of the few things I miss about Nevada is the stargazing. It's pretty much a wash out here. You can find places that are dark enough, but... actually getting a clear night in Winter?
via
jaylakeTitan has lakes! eeeeeee!
One of my earliest memories is reading National Geographic with my maternal grandfather. He was a plumber and an immigrant, self-educated, and passionately interested in science and the natural world. I got my habit of reading encyclopedias from him. he never thought it was weird.
When I was just about knee-sitting sized, the Voyagers were passing the gas giants. And NG was full of amazing photos. I know this stuff is everyday, now. But back then... we'd never seen anything like it.
It still gives me a little tight feeling in my chest to see something like a lake on another goddamned planet.
We are tidal beings. In this case, that tide is galactic....
and via
hominysnark:...I'm kind of in love.
And this? This is hysterical. And so NSFW:
- Mood:
cold - Music:NPR - Morning Edition
I'm not managing daily updates, but it's nice to be back in the habit of semi-regular updating anyway.
Spent some time yesterday evening on making rather boring customer service calls, which ate into my writing time, alas. I only managed to scribble a couple hundred words, which, for me, is barely the equivalent to throat-clearing; I need a few hundred words just to get up to cruising speed. Still, any forward momentum is good. I need to average about 6,000 words a week on this book to meet my March deadline (I also have a short story, about one-sixth written so far, that's due in February), which is certainly doable. I just have to, you know. DO it.
Of course, I could have refrained from playing so many video games last night and gotten much more writing done, but let's not wander into the dangerous realms of personal accountability and responsibility, all right?
My wife and I watched the first episode of Steven Moffat's BBC show Jekyll and really liked it; I quite enjoy Moffat's writing, and it's cool to see what he does on his own, rather than playing in the Doctor Who universe. Plus: Paterson Joseph! Always a joy to watch, especially as a villain, even when putting on an American accent.
Reading Blitz by Ken Bruen, first one of the Brant books I've tried, and it's not particularly grabbing me so far; seems more formulaic than most of his books, though I'm not very far along, so it might well surprise me.
The magazine is busy, busy, busy. Lots of obituaries this time, lots of interesting news, lots of writing to do, and a short schedule because of the holidays. Nothing like a little neurochemical burn and deadline pressure to remind you you're working for a magazine. But it'll all be over end of day Monday, and then I've got two short weeks (three days next week, only two the week after that), so that's some relaxation to look forward to. And a chance to catch up on that writing I should do.
- Mood:
fortified
So … this morning I awoke to learn that the Czech company Triton is picking up rights on Boneshaker. This means I’ve made my first foreign rights sale! Ever! Folks, that means I have leveled up as an author. It also means that someday, people in the Czech Republic will be reading Boneshaker and that just tickles me pink :)
* No, I don’t know what they’ll call it; no, I don’t know if they’ll keep the cover art; no, I don’t know if they’ll keep the brown text; no, I don’t know when it’ll be available, etcetera.
[Crossposted to/from my website. If you'd like to comment, you can do so either here or there.]
Via Kyle Cassidy - (beware of heartwarming ahead) - a 7-year-old boy named Evan saved up his allowance and donated all of it ($46.75) to the animal shelter from whence he adopted his cat. Get the whole story (plus a cute shot of his letter) right here at Kyle’s blog.
Thusly inspired, I went and looked up the shelter from whence we adopted Spain the Cat, nearly eight years ago now. The Pet Placement Center in Red Bank, Tennessee, is the oldest no-kill shelter in Hamilton County* — and like all shelters pretty much everywhere, it’s kept afloat by volunteers and donations.
So in honor of Evan, seven years old in Philadelphia, I put the exact same money into the paypal pot — on behalf of Spain the Cat, who was adopted as “Jeannie” in 2002. If you’ve enjoyed the exploits and photos of Spainy over the years, you are, of course, encouraged to drop a few pence into the bucket yourself.
Or, heck, throw some change at the shelter nearest and dearest your own heart.
‘Tis the season, after all.
* And at the time we adopted Spainy, I think they were the only one.
[Crossposted to/from my website. If you'd like to comment, you can do so either here or there.]
This amuses me because "turd-polishing" is a common phrase bandied around SFF workshops, meaning the act of fiddling with the sentences and commas in an essentially broken narrative.
Even if you succeed, well. What you have is a high-gloss turd.
- Mood:
braindead
Cures what ails ya.
Or at least distracts you.
- Mood:sick
- Music:NPR- Morning Edition
so far this morning: contracts and tax paperwork printed (4); epic battles with printer and TBRE's... idiosyncratic... wiring structures (6); epic battles with my own piles of office clutter (2); epic battles with kjitten over just who exactly gets to stand on the printer while it's printing (umpteen).The printer router the beloved
netcurmudgeon set up for me appears to have died the death (I wonder, somehow, if cats are responsible) so I had to crawl around under the desk and hook the printer up directly to the desktop, and then port files, and then--And all this while not feeling so hot, and in the throes of PMI (Premenstrual incompetence. Hormones give me brain fog.). And then the dog decided that it wasn't too cold to go chase the ball for a VERY LONG TIME before doing his business, which meant somebody had to throw that ball. Somebody inadequately dressed, with cold hands, because see above brain fog.
So that was my morning.
Is it too early to start drinking?
temperature this morning: 15 wonderful degrees (-2 with windchill (F, not C: I'm an American barbarian.)
tea today: orange passionfruit
teacup today: asian (Japanese? it's kind of borderline in size and design) teacup from San Francisco
I'm in the midst of a caffeine detox, just in case the weird fits of anxiety I've been having are triggered by the buzz. (I suspect it's more deadlines and incoming! baby and deadlines and slow-paying publishing industry and deadlines and coming to terms with my spinsterhood and deadlines. But the caffeine is something I can control.) While I don't consume a lot of caffeine (I drink a lot of tea, mostly green, and occasional black tea or coffee) I've noticed in the past few months that black tea or coffee in the evening will actually mess up my sleep cycle, which is new and unexciting. And I did NOT react well to the chai I had on Monday, or the coffee Sunday afternoon.
Anyway, after 72 hours without my drug of choice, I am feeling the effects--those headaches, I tell ya. Stuff is vicious. And I appear to be coming down with something, given my absolute failure to perform at the climbing gym yesterday (
hawkwing_lb had all my mojo. Don't ask.), the pain in my neck, and the occasional slight productive cough. No fever, though--I'm right on the money a degree low, just as I always am. Given all this, the fact that Grail is sitting at 185 pages, and the Impending Hoolidays, I have decided to take an advance on my Time Off as sick leave cum lazing about. Today I will read contracts and make some notes on Grail because I was brilliant in the shower this morning. And I am going to cuddle up with a peppermint-and-lavender-soaked barley pillow. And if any writing gets done, well, it gets done. And if it doesn't, well, that's okay too.
Basically, I'm going to putter and not set any goals. And hope my headache eases up a little. (Today's tea is an herbal blend with a little bit of green tea in it, so there is some caffeine, but not so much I would drink it for the energy boost. But it will probably take the edge off the discomfort, anyway.)
- Mood: sick
- Music:NPR- Morning Edition
No. Grass. It all appeared to be very hard packed mulch. I thought this was some new development, but my husband told me today it's always been that way. He actually thought it was some kind of deck material instead of mulch. Naturally, the only way to figure out this mystery was to take neighbor snooping to the ultimate level and look at their house via satellite on Bing Maps. Sure enough: their grassless backyard stood out in our neighborhood, but we're still not sure what it's made of or what its purpose is. We're also still not sure why the van is here, but if someone's there to take care of the house, I really hope they hang up Christmas lights. Red ones.
Okay, here's the other news in the world, and it's good. Remember the poll where people voted on where my next book signings would be? The tour that got postponed from November? Well, it's officially booked for January, and here's the itinerary.
Saturday, January 16 - 5pm - New Orleans, LA
Octavia Books
513 Octavia St.
New Orleans, LA 70115
(504) 899-7323
Sunday, January 17 - 5pm - Miami, FL
Coral Gables Congregational Church
3010 De Soto Blvd.
Miami, FL
*Event is being run by Books and Books but is being held at the church because of space. The store will be there selling books, and questions should be directed to them: (305) 442-4408
Monday, January 18 - 7pm - New York, NY
Barnes and Noble Tribeca
97 Warren St.
New York, NY 10007
(212) 587-5389
Tuesday, January 19 - 7pm - Long Island, NY
Borders Westbury
1260 Old Country Road
Westbury, NY 11590
(516) 683-8700
Rules about signings and book limits are listed over at my calendar page. As always, whenever I post appearances, I get people asking why I can't come to their cities. The answer's the same, I'm afraid: I can't be everywhere. My publisher is the one who arranges my tour schedule, and they try to get me around where they can. We're limited, though, and remember--when I'm out touring, I'm not writing. :) There'll be a big tour for Spirit Bound in May, so I'll be in more places then.
Last note: I'll be autographing mail orders at University Bookstore again tomorrow (Friday), which is probably the last chance people will have to get signed books delivered before Christmas. So, get your order in ASAP if you want holiday books. Instructions are here, and remember, you have to tell them you want books signed. It doesn't happen automatically.
Phew, lots of news today. Let's hope the KGB neighbors do put up some lights so that I have news for tomorrow! I think some reindeer would look great on their lawn. Er, lack of lawn.
- Location:Living room
- Mood: excited
( How long can you keep us safe? )
( The size of your honor guard determines your status in Hell. )
- Mood:
contemplative
Page Summary
- matociquala : Bet this is the second to the last time I use this tag.... [+0]
- rachel_swirsky : Argh. [+4]
- cmpriest : Happy Holidays! [+3]
- tim_pratt : Birthday, Boy [+1]
- matociquala : turn, turn, turn [+39]
- matociquala : nothing but net [+14]
- blue_succubus : The only thing better than watching Mannheim Steamroller is blogging about them [+19]
- arcaedia : letters from the query wars - holiday edition [+5]
- matociquala : the problems of three little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world [+54]
- matociquala : and in the morning when i wake up [+14]
- tim_pratt : Blitz(en) [+0]
- drchuck1968 : Tweet, tweet... [+0]
- matociquala : (working for the black gas) [+12]
- cmpriest : Real quick, why today is a day of squee [+23]
- cmpriest : Thanks, Evan [+1]
- matociquala : (no subject) [+27]
- matociquala : what can't be cured must be endured.... [+28]
- matociquala : i guess i picked the wrong week to quit sniffing glue [+18]
- blue_succubus : Neighbor news and tour date news! [+17]
- matociquala : "She's arguing with the doctors." "That's good." [+72]