11. The Red Hot Empress, Meredith Blevins
10. Hogfather, Terry Pratchett
9. Black Widow: The Name of the Rose, Marjorie Liu, Daniel Acuna
8. Agent of Change, Sharon Lee and Steve Miller (e)
7. The Emperor’s Agent, Jo Graham (e)
6. Eternity and a Day, Aline Hunter (e)
5. Kindred Rites, Katharine Eliska Kimbriel (e)
4. Billy the Kid, the Endless Ride, Michael Wallis
3. The Steerswoman, Rosemary Kirstein (e)
2. Uncovered, Jordan Matter
1. Dancers Among Us, Jordan Matter
Blog Without A Name
Bros, with string
Photo by Sharon Lee
String theory
So, when Trooper first came to us, he was a Twizler Champeen. He would play with some of the other toys we have in our sparse(!) collection of Feline Entertainment Items, notably the Floofy Ball, and Turtle. He would also do some serious kickhat with the springs, but we couldn’t interest him in the old braided leather cord that had been a favorite with. . .several generations of Cat Farm Cats.
When Sprite arrived, she fell upon the leather cord with high-pitched squeaks of Coon Cat Gladness and dragged it around with her everywhere, insisting, whenever she found an idle person of the Thumbs persuasion (which, in this house, is often) that we Make The String Work. Such was her enthusiasm that she won Trooper over to String Play.
Well, upon inspection earlier in the week, it was revealed that the old leather cord really was old, and brittle and just plain worn out, so I remembered to stop at Tractor Supply to take on rawhide boot laces, in order to make a new cord.
In order to braid the strings together, I tied a knot in one end, and closed it into the top drawer of the file cabinet, then I stepped back, keeping tension on the cords, and began to braid.
Trooper was in his box. He kind of glanced at me, decided I was Being Funny Like I Did, and went back to sleep. Sprite, of course, came to sit on my feet and bat at the dangling ends.
. . .at least, she did until the braid was about half-done, when she looked up — and saw what I was doing. She squeaked, went over to the box and woke Trooper up. He still didn’t Get It — and then he did, and jumped out of the box to sit and watch the progress of the braid.
When the last knot was tied, I couldn’t get it out of the file cabinet fast enough; Sprite wanted it NOW; it was hers; I had made it for her, and by Bast, she wanted it.
The old leather cord went the way of such things, and here’s Trooper and Sprite and the new string:
Photo by Sharon Lee
In which progress is made
I’ve been working. Monday was one of those fragmented days where I couldn’t get my hours-together to focus, though I did some, um, deconstruction work on the third iteration of this novel, and realized that part of what was making things more difficult than they needed to be was the structure, and! for Extra Writer Bonus Points! if I restructured the third iteration, I could actually rescue words from the two iterations I had set aside.
Win!
So, yesterday morning, I pulled the chapter-by-chapter files for each of the three iterations (as I said on Facebook, thank ghod that the person who writes my books takes the time to keep a running chapter-by-chapter summary of each book-in-process. They’re a huge help in identifying which chapters/scenes can be rescued and where they are.
Having identified the words which could be folded into the WIP with good effect, I spent the afternoon unbraiding the (very lightly braided) narrative threads of the third book, and cut-n-pasting the rescued scenes into the (hopefully) correct order. That was a little harrowing, and in the end, I couldn’t rescue anywhere near 50,000 words. I did, however, get 13,000 words in several nice, chewy scenes that will definitely improve the final story, so the work was worth doing.
This morning, I compiled the book in its Pretty New Structure, and printed it out. Tomorrow, probably (since today is another chopped-up day), I’ll sit down with the compiled manuscript and do a continuity edit. I’m feeling good about the new structure; and while I’m doubtless up for some Serious Work in building bridges, and switching scenes/viewpoints around so characters don’t know about certain events before they happen, that’s just — work.
Over on Facebook, someone commented that this novel had gotten very messy, which is certainly true. There are a bunch of reasons for that. Part of it’s depression, as I mentioned. It’s hard to think when you’re (when I’m) depressed; especially, it’s hard to do the kind of free-flow, instinct-level thinking which is the Very Best Space from which to write a novel (IMHO). Which means I’ve got to Figure Things Out by the Numbers, which is no fun, and I have to do it when I have the Stupids.
Another thing that played into this novel becoming quite so messy is — given that there are a lot of choices open to us in terms of where to start, where to go, where to end, and who to include in the party, it stands to reason that no matter what we decide to do, someone(s) will be angry and disappointed, and therefore conclude that we can no longer write, and will feel compelled to tell us so, and. . .I really, really, really don’t right now have the spoons to deal with that. Odds are good that I will have the spoons to deal with it once the book is in a position for people to be disappointed in it, but right now, that future Angry Reader is kinda hanging over my head like a machete. I’m trying to ignore him/her/it/they, and write the story that’s true, which, some days, is easier said than done.
The result of all these choices and other situations is that we have three starts to this novel, two of which petered out at around 25,000 words (for a total of 50,000 words), including about — eh? 20,000 words? — detailing the adventures of a group of characters who (among all the characters who do) Don’t Actually Belong in this book. It’s not Bad Stuff, it just doesn’t belong in *this* book, and is being preserved (as writers do) against the future book in which they do belong.
We’ve written messy books in the past (by which I mean, we wrote them messily. I have. . .perhaps fond isn’t the word I want. . .memories of laying all the chapters of Conflict of Honors out on the living room floor and literally cutting pages apart and Scotch-taping the scenes together, until we had a novel that Actually Made Sense), but this is the messiest I’ve been lead on in a long time. Of course, I was off writing Carousel books for a little while there, which are, compared to the Liaden books, really pretty straightforward.
. . . and that’s where we stand
For those playing along at home, we’re +/- 46,000 words into a firm draft of a book that is obstinately remaining nameless, and construction is continuing, with deliberation.
In other news — Tomorrow is the first day of Spring! . . .and the weather predictions for us here in Central Maine is for one to three inches of snow tonight.
Sunday To-Do, With Commentary
1. Coon cat grooming
2. Clean cat boxes
3. Clean humidifier
4. Do dishes
5. Write a novel
I don’t actually think I’ll accomplish Number 5 today, but I need a buncha hours in a row, which, with One Thing and Another Thing and That Other Thing* Too, I haven’t been getting. In general, I’m not a believer in Ivory Towers, but if I could rent one for a couple weeks, along with the Invisible Staff, including the Staffer whose sole job is to answer annoying — and even non-annoying — emails politely — I’d be there in a heartbeat.
Lacking that, it looks like Tuesdays and Thursdays and Saturdays are going to have to get blocked out as Compleat Writing Days, and One Thing and Another Thing are just going to have to Go Fish.
One of the things I do in the morning, after Mozart has been Served Breakfast, is that I’ll play string with the kids. Sprite especially enjoys the play, and, if I’ve somehow forgotten, she will pursue me around the house, dragging the string and exclaiming until I Make It Work. Trooper’s willing to play if play is on the table, but he doesn’t like to make a fuss.
This morning, after play, and after Mozart had finished with breakfast, Sprite was still demanding more! string! So I knelt down on the floor on my elbows and my knees, and put one hand on the string. She blinked, backed up, and meebled at Trooper. Who sighed, and hooted what I assume was, “Oh, all right, let me look at it.” And came over to sniff my hair, and my hand, and the string. . .
. . .and then laid down across from me, and put his paw on the string.
I squinted my eyes at him; he squinted his eyes at me. Sprite meebled, pushed against Trooper; he hooted. She meebled again, and he sighed. Veeeerrrrrry slowly, she skooched down next to him, put her paw tentatively on the string, and huffed her little hello huff.
And there we all sat for a few minutes, communing with the string and each other.
So, that was nice.
Hope everyone is having a pleasant Sunday.
______
*Frequent readers of this blog will have noticed that I’m one of those folks who has mood swings, of which, in case there is any doubt, the High is much preferred to the Low. Unfortunately at the moment, I’m stuck in a pretty low Low, which it took some time to identify, because (in my experience, at least) depression hurts, and this thing right here. . .doesn’t, though it has all the other trimmings, in spades, including the Stupids. What this means for y’all is that I’m going to be somewhat scarce — see the proposed Tuesday/Thursday/Saturday schedule, and if an Ivory Tower rental comes up, I’m there — because life and contracts go on, and if it’s going take me four times longer to write a book than normal, because I’ve got to piece in every damn word, then I’d better lean in hard.
So, that. Thank you for your understanding.
And she survived but now she’s gone forever
1. Today’s Baen Free Radio Hour features an interview with Dave Seeley, and! an audiocast of my short story “The Gift of Music.” Here’s your link.
2. This link takes you to a page featuring thumbnails of various pieces of art by Anne Lemanski. OPHIOPHOBES TAKE NOTE: There are snakes involved. They’re quite attractive snakes, and they’re made out of copper and paper, but snakes they are. Here’s your link.
3. Waterville area folks — Dragon Egg Hunt in preparation for the Waterville Opera House presentation of SHREK. Here’s that link.
4. The Hugo Nomination Period ends on March 31. If you were a member of last year’s WorldCon, in San Antonio; if you’re a member of this year’s WorldCon, in London; if you’re a member of next year’s WorldCon, in Spokane, you are eligible to nominate for the Hugos. Here’s the link to the rules. On the left hand side of that page, you’ll find links to the 2014 nomination form and the Retro Hugo nomination form, and instructions for the whole batch.
4a. Lee and Miller have several works eligible for nomination. They are:
Novels: Necessity’s Child, Trade Secret
Novelettes: Eleutherios, Moon’s Honor
Short Story: Out of True
5. Between Wednesday and Thursday here in Central Maine, we had a Lot of Snow. (oh, OK; somewhere between 10.5 and 15 inches, it says here.) I can’t find any official numbers, so we’ll just leave it there. Today is sunny and cold. Tomorrow, we have an ice storm on the schedule.
Winter can get over itself Any Time Now.
Today’s blog post title comes from “Steel River,” by Chris Rea. Here’s a link. Warning: This is a song that always makes me cry, so possibly NSFW.
In which Rolanni is cranky
So, over here at Tor.com, there are at this writing 19 reviews and one interview on display on the first page. Three of those 19 reviews are for Baen books; the rest by Publishers Divers.
The three Baen books under review are: Cauldron of Ghosts, by Weber and Flint, The Sea Without a Shore, by David Drake, and Carousel Sun, by Sharon Lee.
There’s a reason I’m telling you this.
Of the three Baen books reviewed, two are held up and mocked for their covers, before the review is even engaged. Full disclosure: One of those is Carousel Sun, which has a rooster on the cover. Which is apparently hilarious. Especially since, yanno, there’s a rooster in the book. The other book so mocked is Cauldron of Ghosts. David Drake’s book, I am actually relieved to report, received a respectful and affectionate review, with no mention of the cover.
Now, ‘way back before the rocks cooled, I reviewed professionally. And what I reviewed was the stuff between the covers — the story arc, the characters, the structure, the theme. The cover was understood to be a sales piece, and I, the reviewer, was understood not to be an artist, an art reviewer, or an art director. The only time I might mention the cover would be to point out that the author’s name was spelled wrong.
While I do very much understand that Baen covers are considered highly mockable in the wider SF community, I question that mocking when it appears on the site of a competitor, and when the only two covers mentioned at all are Baen covers. This strikes me as dishonest at best, and agenda-driven at worst.
Back in the day, had I suddenly made it my mandate to include cover art in my reviews, I would have reviewed all the covers, in order to provide my readers with a balanced opinion of all the books. Because that was, after all, my job.
Books read in 2014
10. Hogfather, Terry Pratchett
9. Black Widow: The Name of the Rose, Marjorie Liu, Daniel Acuna
8. Agent of Change, Sharon Lee and Steve Miller (e)
7. The Emperor’s Agent, Jo Graham (e)
6. Eternity and a Day, Aline Hunter (e)
5. Kindred Rites, Katharine Eliska Kimbriel (e)
4. Billy the Kid, the Endless Ride, Michael Wallis
3. The Steerswoman, Rosemary Kirstein (e)
2. Uncovered, Jordan Matter
1. Dancers Among Us, Jordan Matter
Progress and not-so report
So, Illisidi is not yet perfect, but hopefully workable. The one biggest concern remains an outflowing of error messages the first time I open any file in LibreOffice. Once past the error messages, though, I can open files with impunity, and they seem not to be changing into oak leaves in the morning, so I guess I’m going to have to put up with what I can’t fix. Certainly, I’m very tired, at this point, of uninstalling and reinstalling LibreOffice, and a writer must write with something.
Fans of Mozart will wish to hear that he has good days and bad days. He’s a fan, currently, of Friskies gravy lovers with a liberal handful of Fancy Feast dry food on top, like jimmies. He eats the crunchies and licks up the gravy. If I could figure out a way to just put gravy over crunchies, I’d do that, but I’m afraid of feeding him the salt bomb that is canned gravy meant for consumption by Thumbs.
Fans of Sprite will wish to know that, for all her giddy ways, she takes her royal duties seriously. The other day, Mozart suddenly gave out with the Kitty in Trouble yell, from the living room. I got up to see what the problem was, to find that Sprite had arrived ahead of me and was vigorously washing his ears (See there, Grandpa? Everybody feels better when they have clean ears.), which really did seem to solve the problem/break the cycle of distress.
In other news, today is Monday, which, being as I’m a freelance, shouldn’t matter, but somehow does. Perhaps because I was woken up by a nightmare, and took some time to settle again. Perhaps because it’s a greyish morning, and we’re under threat of Snowpocalypse. Again.
Whatever.
In a few minutes, I’ll head out to town, errands, and the gym, and this afternoon, it’s back to work.
How’s the start of your week going?
In which the Aiji-Dowager arrives
So, the Win7 machine is up and running. I still haven’t solved the HDMI conundrum; but I have all of my files, and, after a little bit of noodling ’round the web, all of my programs, including my Firefox bookmarks. Ten years’ of old wires have been (by Steve’s good offices) cleaned out from beneath my desk and the old Oki printer has been cleared off the top of my desk, thereby opening Vistas Untold.
So, yanno; It’s All Good.
Advertent readers will have noticed that the new computer’s name is Illisidi; in part due to the fact that she is smaller, lighter, and much more powerful than Jack the Giant Killer. And if you have No Clue who Illisidi, the Aiji-Dowager is, start here and go through to here. You can thank me later.
Next up, is the re-ordering of my office, which had to be Completely Torn Apart in order to swap out the computers, and do all the rest of the things that needed doing. After that, it’s date night, and a fitting end of a week that was, um, more vigorous than predicted.
Hope everybody is having a lovely Saturday.