A Teachable Moment

Okay, I'm getting caught up with some bloggery reading I've put off (not because I have the time, but because I get distracted by... Oh, shiny). You never know when the Black Hole of Calcutta will sneak up and devour you. But here is a teachable moment, and the lesson is, "ideas aren't yours alone." And, "just because things are similar doesn't mean they're the same." Also, "because another author writes something like your story doesn't mean you need to get a better tin-foil hat or stop writing your own take on it." Got all that? Okay, onward.

(my best Lewis Black interpretation including stabbing of arms skyward) Son of a bitch!

Here's a Genreville review about Harry Connolly's debut novel Children of Fire "melding of the sensibilities of Dashiel Hammet and fantasy novels." A starred review in Publisher's Weekly (you rat bastard). The review then goes on to talk about how this novel is refreshing because, "It's the dark side of noir fiction, where characters are grim anti-heroes, and the job they're doing is not always heroic," and, "The book is a straightforward hunt for an evil magician." Hmm, sounds awfully familiar.

(sobby voice) I was robbed!

Here's a Scalzi's Big Idea post about it. In there he says he didn't want to write a story with "dusters or trench coats... centuries-old katanas... or all the other trappings that so much of modern urban fantasy uses to signify that characters are seriously kickass-cool people." Okay, well, I guess there's some divergence there because my main character does have a centuries-old katana (although he doesn't use it, preferring a jain sword instead) and he does wear a duster, better to hide the sword with.

Actually, in all seriousness, I do wish Harry Connolly the best with the novel. It sounds seriously kick ass (yet another one on the guilt stack/Xmas list). Once I get through my own novel I'll need to read it. And I wish him the best, well, because I think every author should have a great career. Especially those that write stuff I like. This stuff is hard enough to finally get to launch only to be heralded by crickets. But I also want his novel to sell like fargin' wildfire because it'll help pave the way for mine (bwahahaha!).

And now you'll excuse me, I have to stalk another writer.

(said with my best John Cleese voice) You Bastard!

Rejection Writerly Linkee-poo

Electric Velocipede sends word they're passing on "Prince Wanted." John Klima says it's not quite what he's looking for right now. Fair cop. So we start the week off right by knocking the ego back down to human proportions. Also a part of the letter he states that they aren't providing detailed feedback on the rejections now. Again, fair cop. Finding another suitable market will have to wait for a bit. Probably until I get back form VP.

Jim Hines is running a caption contest with a great photo (and he mentions me).

Here's an interesting historical account of the modern publishing world. It's only four paragraphs and concerns the rise of the Publishing Agent.

Steven Brust's words of wisdom continue over at Words Words Words.

“Never gamble for more money than the guy with the gun can afford to lose.”
– Billy-Bob Gautama

True that.

OT Links

Hey, look, real actual (possible) vote fraud. Well, I guess if you beat enough bushes eventually a bird will drop out somewhere. Although, and you'll have to read the whole article because the end of it is interesting, it also helps if you prime the bushes with not just bird seed, but the birds themselves.

More evidence that a significant minority (one hopes it's only a minority) of the right have gone the route of the whackaloon. This is about a speaker at the "Take Back America Conference" which wasn't exactly a fringe event, having Mike Huckabee, who won a recent straw poll for president in 2012 (Value Voters Conference), Michele Bachmann (okay, well, I see your point but the party hasn't actually disavowed her) and Steve King of Iowa, again making the comparison between today's America and Nazi Germany. I think Doonesbury put it best. Also, here's a bit of family history. In my extended family tree I have a great uncle (by marriage) whose brothers were SS (he had left Germany before the war). I have two great uncles (now passed, RIP) who were prisoners of war in Germany and because of their last name (Grosenbaugh) were deemed "of questionable heritage." The family of my maternal grandfather remaining in the old world fled the Nazi's advance into the Alsace region literally ripping the photos of their silver-works from the walls of the shop as they fled (I now possess those photos, my uncle has the signet ring). We're pretty sure the majority of their work was melted down by the Nazis. I personally knew two men who were involved in the German assault on Stalingrad (one became a US Army Major after being a German then Russian officer, the other was conscripted by the Nazis as they marched through Hungary). I've known people who escaped the Nazis through Switzerland (also those who escaped Soviet dominion the same way). And I know several families whose members are listed on "In Rememberence" bulletins for Yom Kippur. So, yes, I know real life Nazis (or those that worked for the Reich) and people who dealt with them and suffered under their rule (and then the retribution of the Soviet Union). I personally think it's a part of the jealousy of the Greatest Generation. Certain individuals feel they missed out and want to grab some of that glory for themselves. What I personally think is just hilarious is that there are actual, real, American Nazis. If you're interested in knowing more about them google "stormfront" (no, I'm not providing you a link - we're all full up on crazy here this week, I don't need to add to it). I think it's safe to say that Obama isn't their champion.

Here's an interesting Gallup poll on Town Hall Meetings. The breakdown by party affiliation is interesting, especially the breakout of Question 6 ("Americans are more likely to say angry attacks against a healthcare bill are "democracy in action" rather than an "abuse of democracy." Booing members of Congress and shouting down opponents are more likely to be seen as abuses of democracy.")

"Did it take long to find me?" I ask the faithful light.

Last night I fell asleep washed in the light of the waxing Harvest Moon. It'll be full at the beginning of Viable Paradise. The song of the spheres sings strongly again. The time of winter approaches. Soon it will be story-telling season, the spice of smoke in the communal fire. Northern-blue clouds have been pilling up on their trip south, harrowing the geese in their flights of v's. Small birds gather to reforge their flocking contract and grow as one individual in flight. The land remembers, in titan's dream, that snows will soon wash over him in tidal bloom and the echoes of our ancestors will ring through the hearth fires. If you're a believer in such things, power grows as Selene rounds, wanes as she does. That week will be full power.

October is shaping up again to be Write-tober. This is the third year in a row for this event. The first week (and two weekends) is Viable Paradise. The next weekend is Hamster weekend. The weekend after that is Feral Writers Retreat. The only weekend that doesn't have a specific writing theme is Halloween.

Halloween is now referred to in polite decorations as "Harvest" and it is that. Our decorations show pumpkins, corn, apples and all the late fall has to offer. But those are symbols of Oktoberfest which celebrates the harvest of the fields. Oktoberfest, however, isn't in our present October, but late August and early September. Halloween's Harvest is a different culling. It is the animal harvest. The veil grows thin as the cross-quarter passes, further assailed by the passing of the animals until it is thinner than tissue. Now is the time the dead of the past year travel over and the world is made new.

And this wrestles in my head as a coyote chuckles outside my window. Selene's pool grows deep as the ocean whose merest tip I'll cross in five days. Words like steelhead fish swim in the dappled waters flashing their intent. Deeper shadows move down there, driving the world with powerful flukes. Their perturbations stir my thoughts.

Lit up with anticipation

Viable Paradise starts in less than a week and my confidence has fled me. The gremlins laugh in their hollow caves. I'm not near finished, I have a friends novel I need to critique and haven't started, the vagaries of modern air travel (and what if I just get fed up with the TSA security theater, a distinct possibility), keeping it all on schedule. Not to mention the over scheduled nature of the day thing for the past two weeks (and promises of it continuing this week). I've started packing things so I won't forget them. And OMG, what have I done. I'll suck, I'll be an ass, something will go wrong or I'll sabotage myself. I guess Viable Paradise will be my Rubicon, once crossed there's no going back. I didn't figure to go back, but now it's a committed thing.

This is normal for me. It's a mixture of fear of the new, fear of spending so much mullah, fear of success, fear of failure. Right before a significant event I get all wiggy, need to make sure I've got all my t's dotted and i's crossed. Once we get jump light my brain will shift into gear and I'll do what I normally do and get the job done as best I can.

Deep breaths.

On the plus side, checking the hotel's information (the Island Inn) I see that WiFi is free now. Yippie. Back when I scheduled it would be $50 for the week. The money gods smile fortune upon me. That may cover the lobster rolls I'll eat next week. Also it may mean I might be able to blog during the week. I don't know what the rules are about blogging the workshop, but at least I can do being on the Island.

Man, I've missed food on the east coast; restaurants you can find by the scent, real kosher-deli-garlic pickles... hogies? Do they have hogies on the Vineyard? Gods I hope so, it's been so long since I've had a real one (Subway and Jersey Subs just don't have it).

Am I going to be able to get everything done that week? I'm a slow writer and slow reader. We don't have our critique material and won't until we get to the island. I've already put a red pen in my bag. I'm backing up the laptop as we type (iPods are so versatile). Until then I have two committee meetings this week, I'll need to mow the lawn (it rained this weekend, which is good cause we needed it, but left the yard too wet to mow or do much work), finish packing, write reports, work early so I can leave early on Friday, help Bette get the house ready (I hope it doesn't dip into freezing while we're gone). I didn't get much reading of the instructors done (and I doubt anymore will happen this week). Also wanted to review The Tempest as I've heard that's what we read on Tuesday night. I don't think I've read it more than once back in college, and I've never seen it acted. And I never got to meet the Ferret (a fellow Hamster, jokes all around) before going there. So, I'll meet the other guy from my writing group, partner in arms, on the island.

So we spent the weekend cleaning and preparing. Didn't get much writing done since last night (and I only got about 500 words out all weekend). Prepared a cheat sheet for the trip (times, numbers, etc). Getting the camera batteries in shape (have a brand new one as a spare), so drain them out, charge them up, drain them out, etc. Should also condition the laptop battery and reset the power manager.

So, expect light blogging for the next two weeks (now watch, I'll post three times a day, that's the way these things go).

Deep breaths.

I'm not you're stepping stone

Chapter 25 is in the bag. It came out a little long at 2308 words. Three things happen, so it's sort of a big one. In the rewrite we might break it up, but I don't think so. Our protag has come to the decision he needs to protag a little more.

He pulled a tub of ointment from out of his bag. "Disrobe," he ordered.

"Shouldn't you at least get one drink in me first?"

"Be a smart-ass in pain tomorrow morning, or be a good student, do what your instructor tells you tonight, and feel better tomorrow."

Here's a question that's been bothering me for a few chapters. If I have a character named "Doraku", how many of you know whom I'm talking about without googling it? (I'm pretty sure one of you does know) It's a historical reference. Don't worry if you don't know, it's not all important to the story, just one of those gifts for people who do know (or who are reading closely).

So the widget is updated. We progress. Things are about to get bloody and come to an end. I think I've shown the bad guys to be sufficiently bad, so it's time for the Good Guys(tm) to start winning. Maybe a set back or two is still in store, but the tide should turn in the third act. They'll take small steps, but it'll lead to bigger things.

Story Bone

Misoverheard at work, "Make the effin' fairy lowercase."

And here I thought fairies we all small caps.

Random thoughts after a hard day at work.

At work I no longer log into a website to track my time. However, as the job description evolves I'm not required to track my time and send it to the receptionist for her to put into the database. The remaining daytime desktop operator is out for surgery, so I know get to cover for my old job. I have a goodly stack of vinyls (job jackets) behind my desk, some of which require "immediate" attention (these are for the "new job"). Normally I send my time twice a week. Because of the amount, I'm sending her daily reports. Today's was two pages long. Busy day.

I wonder if they make a Thomas Kinkade Magic 8-Ball? (would be perfect for an Xmas gift we need to get)

So, why aren't there Tea Party Protests at the G20? I mean, here they are, the actual government financial people working on things that will direct our fiscal policy. They're right there. Making decisions on how much intervention countries, including the USA, should do in their markets. Which industries should be supported and which ignored. All right there. Actual decision makers. Hello, tap tap, is this thing on? I see a bunch of "educational meetings" but no boots on the street.

Sam's Club already has Xmas decorations for sale. Not a lot, but the big tubes of "shatter proof" bulbs are on the floor (along with the card selection).

And thinking of Tea Party Patriots, here's something. Michael Moore agrees with you. There's too much government involvement in saving companies, or spending tax money to prop up failing businesses. And he thinks it's dangerous for the country. He said so on the Colbert Report. (sorry could only find the full episode) Of course he differs on other points, but when I saw this on TV I felt a disturbance in the Force, as if thousands of heads exploded all at once.

What I'm watching? The PBS Special Report on Healthcare Reform. Lots of good discussion and points being brought up (from the individual side, the business side, well-care programs, obesity, etc). I don't see that it's being repeated (which is a shame). I don't like all the points they bring up (there was a slight promotion of HSAs and a push of "wellness" programs at the workplace), but a pretty decent look at the issues. While you're watching, pay attention to the money sections (who is paying, how are they paying, and where are they paying).

Today's Department of Redundancy Redundant Department? "...please prepay in advance..." - actually seen today at work, I live in a Dilbert world.

While I'm thinking of healthcare reform there's been this red herring about "cost to employers", and while the economics of it I wholeheartedly agree with (again, the cost of healthcare has been leaning on the windpipe of the economy for too long), there's a side argument of "if we relieve employers of the responsibility to provide insurance, and put the costs on the employees, business could pay people more." Everybody who believes that will actually happen, stand up. See, what I see is that the cost will shift to the individual after the trade-off was made for lower salaries/pay to keep health insurance with no benefit to the individual.

US looking to deploy long-endurance hybrid airship over Afghanistan. It's a steam-punk world. Not exactly as sexy as Global Hawk or Predator, but three weeks loiter time. Man that's a long time between bathroom breaks. (tip of the tam o'shanter to Dan)

Also with healthcare, the other red herring stinking up the room, "Tort-reform." Okay, well, we have real life experiments on it. How much has tort-reform reduced the cost of health care in those states who passed it (Ohio, California, Wisconsin, Texas, etc)? Yeah, not much. When this was discussed at work the other day people were shocked to learn that Ohio has had two rounds of tort-reform in the early 2000's. Doesn't do much because it's not that much of a problem. Oh, and before we do it, instead of the doctors and politicians blathering on about it, I want to hear the insurance people say how much tort-reform will affect the cost of your health insurance. Understand in Ohio their response was, "We never said it would affect anything."

And finally, also thinking of bathroom breaks, this beats writing your name in the snow by a country mile.

I took the path mostly trodden, there were good restaurants and hotels

Worked on getting all the floating pieces of Chapter 26 in order last night. I'm not happy with the chapter, although it does some cool things, I'm not so hot on it being so late in the book. But I expect things will get hot for Gary in the near future. Like with the next cell call that will happen just around dinner time. He's bruised and battered and about to be thrown in the deep end. Santana will help, but in the end give him his lead. I wonder if people will still root for Gary when I show he's not above killing in cold blood (well, the other side is asking for it, and it's not like I haven't left a wake of at least a baker's dozen bodies so far).

Although now it comes to me that the Bad Guys(tm) aren't full characters (well, the Magician is a little). However, noir is necessarily told first person which makes it difficult to get into the heads of others, especially when they're not on stage (and the main bad guys, as in real life, like to stay in the shadows).

We've got a wave in the air

I've been a little scarce here of late, it wasn't intentional. I've been very busy getting ready for Viable Paradise and doing lots of stuff around the house. Last night was the only day I really spent too much time on the Wii (oh Wii Boxing, how I love you, actually the tennis, boxing and golf are my favs so far, I might have to get an actual Golf game so I get a variety of play).

I've been writing, but not much has come out. I have about three pages of handwritten copy and notes (sometimes instead of writing down the words I just get down the thought process). There's a big fear out there lurking. I'm in the downhill run and you'd think it would be easier as I made it past the duldrums of the middle. Well, as someone once told me, there's two ways down the mountain; the easy way and the way that lets you live at the bottom.

Fall is here. The Equanox is upon us. I love Fall. The nights cool and the blood quickens. The scent of burning leaves fills the spaces between trees and gropes out into the yard to lure in the unsuspecting. It's a time where the veil draws thin and the trickster grows restless (such as for some reason my Macs' universal spellchecker doesn't want to work at the moment).

Fall is also a time of internal self-recrimination. I go over (and over and over again) past stupidities and slights against people, revisit roads not taken, and attempt to both improve and change. However, it mostly is a function of the big D. It's a way to beat myself down. So far, however, even knowing that I haven't been able to either stop myself or forgive myself for some of my stupidities and revisit the worst ones like a classic rock station plays "Turn the Page." And so, I strive not to be as stupid as I have been. I look for opportunities to attone for past grievences. And I hide my thoughts in shame. The gremlins gibber in their dark caves of memory and I die in front of the synaptic firing-squad only to pop back up like a cartoon coyote, ready for the next depredation.

But the leaves turn from their green camoflague to brilliant fire. The scent of humus pours like ground fog. Children wear masks to hide their true souls from those who've come to take them away. Some fail. Twighlight is the new noon, and the Moon draws her curtain of stars over the world. People light candles and stoke their heart's fire. It's a time of being alive. This time it becomes a conscious choice instead of the easy life of Spring and Summer. It's the time of raging against the night.

The Danse Macabre

Happy birthday Stephen King. I was thinking lately that I should relisten to On Writing as sort of a pep talk. I'll also relisten to "Building Bridges" his acceptance speech in 2003 for the National Book Award.

(and here is my yearly plea, Dear Universe, if Mr. King is a hack, please make me just as much a hack as he is; popular, successful, generous, scribbler of stories talked about long after their publication date - there surely are worse things to be in life).

Bang bang Maxwell's Silver Hammer

Chapter 25 is in the bag at 1912 words. Some of them quite good words. I'm pretty happy with this Chapter. It's the first one where Gary gets himself out of trouble (mostly, still needs a ride), but he again ends up pretty bruised.

Clarke shuffled me out into the waiting car and drove me to the mansion to have the doctor look me over. I had enough contusions for a high school football team in a championship game and at least two cracked ribs and what would probably be a nice shiner in the morning, but other than broken I wasn't busted. Santana then grilled me for a half hour before sending me home.

Yeah, I'm liking this chapter. The action is pretty good. The words are fun. Good way to start into Act III.

I continued to haul back on the sword hilt like a mad rower attempting to leap his scull up a waterfall salmon style. I forced both of our cars over the median which jostled Maxwell enough he stopped firing wildly. An oncoming tractor-trailer took out the gun car in a flurry of jakebreaking and airhorn.

More linkages

Last night the solution of how Gary gets out of the problem I threw at him came to me. He he. Driving a taxi from the back seat using a sword. Brilliant! Of course he doesn't drive it well. And there's the various fall out of the solution (which may be worse) that needs to be worked through (at this point there's at least three car crashes, including the car Gary got into by mistake). I know how he gets out of the car, but what comes next should be interesting. I know he makes it back to his apartment by the end of the day, but not how he makes it (and who knows, maybe he might not make it back for a few days - that outline can and will change).

Google's Schmidt on the Book Settlement where he addresses the critics. Let me say up front, I'm with the crowd that says this project violates Google's Business Model of "Do no evil." Mr. Schmidt asks of his critics, after making the unbelievable statement of "they sued us, we didn't sue them" (um, yeah, that's normally how it works, but your settlement affects EVERYBODY, not just those who sued you), "I would like to hear from the critics a better solution to the problem as opposed to criticisms of the solution that we arrived at after four years of negotiation." Okay, Mr. Schmidt, here it is. Don't fucking do it. Is that succinct enough for you? Really, didn't you do any research into what you were doing. You're making a wholesale grab of copyright (no, don't try to deny it, it makes you look foolish) and you didn't think that people would be upset, including people who have a big fondness for free electronic copies? Dude, really, brain death doesn't suit you at all. Or maybe you should actually learn the publishing business before stomping on people's toes (fully investigate what happens when a book goes "out of print" - hint, it doesn't go into the public domain). Oh, and I'm not a party to that suit, I don't have anything that's covered yet, but when I do, count on me protecting my copyright to the fullest extent of the law (while I also argue to have at least part of the work available for free). But you don't get to make that decision for me. If you want to publish my stuff this way, negotiate the rights with me, I'm open. (article grokked from Jay Lake)

I've listened to Neil Gaiman's Graveyard Book a few times now (also read the hard copy). Can I just say I love Bella Fleck's Danse Macabre (which is one of my favorite pieces of music to begin with, and frankly fits a banjo to a "t").

Jeremiah Tolbert with his 5 Lies Writers Believe. Yeah. Yeah, sure, but you know he's an editor who is denying it. Just saying. :) (grokked from Anna Zanoni)

OT Links

Well, that explains some of the frieze-dried whackaloonery going around lately.