Category: Writing

One of my friends reminded me that Labor Day is a day when we don’t work.

But, yanno?

Historically, Labor Day has been a day when I do work, if by “working” we mean “writing,” because the day-job was closed, which meant I had all day to write.

So, I’m a little sorry that I slept the whole Labor Day aspect of the weekend, because it’s good to celebrate our own history, and the times that made us who we are.

In writing news, no the penultimate draft is not yet done.  Today, perhaps.

And, apropos of nothing much, save something, somewhere flashed across my radar, and I believe we ought to talk about these things, and not hide them in the corner. . .

A couple weeks ago, Robin Williams died after a long battle with a deadly disease, depression.

Think about that for a minute.  If that last word had been “cancer” or “diabetes” or “ALS” or Insert Your Favorite Killer Disease Here, people would have been praising his life, calling him a “fighter” and “courageous” and “an inspiration.”  But the commentary about Williams’ death is (mostly) about how he wimped out, how he had “wasted” those years still on his dance card, how he had somehow failed to seek the help that would have saved his life, accompanied by exhortations to those of us who also suffer from the same long-term disease to “get help.”

Now, here’s the thing.  As I understand it, Robin Williams did seek help for his disease.  He stopped self-medicating with alcohol and drugs; he entered rehabilitation; he sought therapy — and by these methods he managed to control his disease, until, in the way of Killer Diseases, one day it was stronger than he was, and he died.

To say that Robin Williams “failed” because he finally, after a long fight, succumbed to his disease is like blaming a cancer patient for dying after the tumors outrun the radiation.

So, that.

Here today at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory, on September 1, which is simultaneously Scrabble’s twelfth birthday, and Labor Day —  it is hot and humid, almost a Baltimore day.  We have closed up the windows and turned on the portable air conditioner and the ceiling fans.  The cats have melted in various tried and tested melting spots, most of them on top of things — file cabinets; bookcase; cat tree — and the writers are at their desks.

It would be a nice day for a picnic at the lake — and I hope that at least some of y’all are enjoying that gift.

* * *

Progress on Dragon in Exile

116,600/100,000 OR 116.6% complete

“What,” he asked, staring at the screens, “is that?”

“Looks like a cruise ship to me,” second board said, which he might have known she would do. 

“Yes, he said patiently, “but what is it doing in orbit around Surebleak?”

“Maybe they need ice.”

 

 

Yeah, still writing, here.  We did take Friday morning off to explore the renovated base housing in Brunswick (these would be the houses that came empty when the Gummint shut down the Brunswick Naval Air Force Base; they’re being renovated in sections by a local company and released for sale).  Let us say that renovated base housing is still. . .base housing.  However! If you’re interested in living in Brunswick, Maine, it is indeed true that the most inexpensive houses in Brunswick are at what is now styled McKeen Landing.

I’ve been so focused that I forgot that this is Labor Day weekend, which, all things considered, is just as well.  Monday is also Scrabble’s twelfth birthday, so that’s, like, two holidays rolled into one.

Speaking of holiday celebrations, Audible has kindly given me coupon codes good for free copies of the Audible edition of Carousel Sun.  As soon as this dragon is out of my hair, I’ll be holding a contest to get those codes into good hands.

For those keeping track at home, Dragon in Exile now stands at 113,640 words, more or less.  There are three-and-one-half scenes left to be written.  To the best of my knowledge. Still hoping to finish the penultimate draft today, so, I’ll, ummmm, see you later.

Today’s blog post title is brought to you by the B52’s “Love Shack.”  Here’s your link.

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Progress on Dragon in Exile

113,640/100,000 OR 113.64% complete

“You are clanless!  Avert your face!”

So, this morning, Steve and I were sitting at the kitchen table over our second cups of coffee, talking over the tasks unto the day and enjoying the company of sleepy cats in the sun, when there came a SHRIEK! from outside.  All the birds at the bird feeder flew into the air with a great crashing of wings and the SHRIEK! came again, followed by outraged clucking, and we got out on the deck in time to see three turkeys — one standing his ground, one in the air and flying for the apple tree on our neighbor’s land, and the third running through the briars and the brambles for the safety of the back woods.

One of the three lost a feather in the altercation, about 14 inches/37centimeters in length.  Here’s a picture:

The guy who had not run or flown off, spent some time walking up and down the road, clucking and calling.  My theory is that he lost track of his lady-friend, who was, as far as I know, still in the apple tree.  Here’s a picture of the victor, taken from the safety of our deck.  You can also see a fallen apple.  The apples are the reason the turkey’s particularly like our little piece of Maine.  The gore on which our house (and our neighbors’ houses) are situated used to be an apple orchard, and there are old apple trees everywhere.

In other news, Dragon in Exile (the penultimate draft) cracked 90,000 words yesterday.  This morning before I start work, the Official Word Count is 91,995.  I had a brief moment of frenzy in which I declared I would be free in only 10,000 more words, but I think that’s. . .optimistic.  However, the end is in sight.

* * *

Progress on Dragon in Exile: GOOD/Author Satisfied

“Certainly, the philosophical aspects of our situation are piquant,” she said seriously. “We must, the two of us, sit down and discuss them thoroughly, some day soon.”

 

What on earth has the woman been doing? you ask.

Well, in-between getting thrown out of our house on a semi-regular basis in order to allow strangers to come through and upset the cats, and compiling a list of houses that we think might be possible to shift to, when the Time for Shifting is upon us. . .

Allow me to digress for a moment — we have a list of houses from low-cost to what we consider to be the highest mortgage payment we can afford (which is still manymanyMANY dollar$ below what the bank, in its financial wisdom, says it believes we can afford).  Houses keep coming onto and being voted off of the island, with the exception of. . .two, I believe, which have been there from the beginning.  Sadly, both are at the top of what we can afford.

The low-cost houses are generally in edgy neighborhoods and tend, as a class, to be ugly.  The high-end houses sure are pretty, but there is perhaps something to be said for not buying a house that our furniture will embarrass.  One of the things in common with all the houses, however, is the presence, in the kitchen, of a dishwasher.   This is particularly poignant as one of my early morning tasks today was to wash the dishes I didn’t do yesterday because I was writing.  I have never in my life owned, or used, a dishwasher, and I do wonder how I’ll know that I’m working without the validation of that sink full of dishes.

Well. . .changes.

So — back on topic — mostly what I’ve been doing is writing.  Dragon in Exile is due at Baen on September 15.  We sent a partial — about 71,000 words — to the cover artist, and I’m pleased to let you know that David Mattingly will be doing the cover.  We’re now up to, oh, 76-ish,000 words in the “final” pile.  I still have some stuff to write, in addition to having about 15,000 pre-written words in the bag, so we’re on track, even though the hood’s still up, there are pieces strewn all over the floor, and it all looks a fright.

I took a break yesterday to watch the stream of the Hugo Awards Ceremony from LonCon 3.  The stream was flawless (there was some crankiness because the film clips were not available to the stream, but, given last year’s bot-driven fiasco, I think the LonCon committee made the right choice).  For those who did not attend, or watch the ceremony, the final Hugo Award List is here.  Congratulations to all the winners!

And, now, having caught y’all up; I need to go Serve Feline Kind by cleaning the cat fountain, and then?  I need to do some writing.

What’ve you been doing that’s fun and interesting?

* * *

Progress on Dragon in Exile:  GOOD/Author satisfied

“I must sleep more often,” Val Con said.  “Only see what prodigies I inspire.”

I took all of my clothes that don’t fit me out of the closet, stripped them off the hangers and stuffed the clothes into bags to go to Goodwill.  This is the follow-up act to last week’s giving away of the coats that no longer fit.

Yeah, it’s a thrill a minute around here.

I also washed yesterday’s dishes, edited the chunk of stuff I wrote yesterday, did research on bolas, and will soon make the internet vanish so I can write New Things today.

The cats. . .are all sleeping as dangerously as possible.

And that?  Is all I’ve got.

No, wait.

I’ve got a snippet.

* * *

Progress on Dragon in Exile:  GOOD/Author satisfied

“Is there any thing that I might find for you?”

“A wise man who has lost nothing.”

“I do not think that such a man exists,” he said, coming to his feet. “Yet, if he does, I dare not bring him to you.”

“Why not?” she demanded.

“For then he would lose his heart, and that would be cruel.”

You may not know this, but authors come with warning labels, just like non-author people.  In Real Life, we usually scope out the warning labels attached to our friends and colleagues through a series of interactions.  After a while, you know that Jilly’s warning is Contents Under Pressure; Gabe’s is Runs with Scissors; and Lynn’s warning is Sees No Evil.

On the internet, it’s a little harder to figure out warning labels; and especially the warning labels for authors, because there’s this free-floating cloud of Assumption regarding How Authors Are that kind of fogs up perceptions.

That being the case, I’m going to make it easy for everyone and throw my warning label right out there where everybody can see it.

Ready?

Here it is; Sharon Lee’s warning label:

Sharp edges; handle with care

Please commit this to memory; it’s not long; it’s not hard, and it can quite possibly save a life.  Or, at least, hurt feelings.

Among other things, the above means that I don’t tend to respond. . .well. . .to people who insist that I must fit into their box, or Do It (whatever It may be) in Some Way That They Personally Prefer, rather than the Way I Personally Prefer.  I especially don’t respond well to Rule-Giving regarding stuff that I happen to be doing mostly for myself.

Allow me to provide context.

Over the last. . .week?  I’ve been on the receiving end of an email scolding me for wasting time writing blog posts, and hanging on social media, when I ought (Note:  Please don’t use the word OUGHT to me when critiquing my life.  Unless you’re my spouse, or a close personal friend who has earned the right, you have no business critiquing my life, and OUGHT is not yours to throw around like confetti.  Thank you.) to be writing more Liaden books.  The letter-writer then wanted me to answer a question, though they were decent enough to acknowledge the irony of that.  And, no, I haven’t answered, because there was nothing civil I could think of to say.

Also, recently, I posted a snippet in a blog post.  Someone in another part of the internet, having this brought to their attention, gave as the Rule that the snippet was too short, that real snippets followed the form used by Author X.

Now. . .here’s the thing.  I share what I’m writing with y’all because I want to.  In fact, let’s back up a couple steps. . .

I write because I want to.

I don’t write For You.

No, really, that’s the truth.  I don’t write For You.

I write, first, and foremost, For Me. I write because writing (for the most part) gives me pleasure.

I do realize that we are extremely fortunate to have a publisher who backs our work.  And I do realize that there are people Out There who buy our books and read our stories, and we’re all thereby embarked on a similar — but not an identical — journey.  We know the same people, though not in the same way; we’ve been to the same places, though we noticed different things.  We can talk about our shared experiences, and learn from, and entertain, each other.  And all of that is Incredibly Cool.

But, the fact remains, that I write For Me.  During our years Wandering the Literary Desert, I still wrote stories and novels, though it took me a while to dare again, after being cut loose from our first publisher.  I’m guessing, based on my established behavior, that I’m going to continue to write, for me.

You, my fellow travelers, are certainly free to critique the story; to argue the route; and even to get off the train.

But you are not allowed to dictate Rules,  and OUGHTs to me on any subject I can bring to mind.

Everybody clear on this?

Thank you.

Now! Fans of Dragon in Exile will be pleased to know that work continues apace.  It’s all bridge-building and braiding and pointing up characterization, and thus not quantifiable by word counts.  We will, therefore, have to go with the Authors’ Gut Feeling Index, which is that we’re doing some good stuff, here.

I am now going to post what I call “a snippet.”  It is short. If short offends you, or if snippets in general offend you, please, please, for the love of ghod, I beg of you — don’t read it.

* * *

Progress on Dragon in Exile:  GOOD/Author Satisfied

At this hour, the shadows sheltered only one habitant — another shadow, slightly darker than themselves. It had for some while stood motionless, listening to the sounds of the sleeping nursery. Now, it moved, black against black, resolving briefly into a gray silhouette as he crossed lighted path, melting once more into the darkness beyond.

So, yesterday was a Day of Scrutiny, and the Dealing of Realities.  In a word, yesterday kinda sucked.  It was, however, a beautiful day to be out and about.

Today promises also to be a beautiful day; I considered working on the deck, but the bugs would have at me, so I’ll set up to work in the office window instead, where I have a nice view of the trees and wildflowers.

For those playing along at home, One of Five has achieved An Official Title, and is henceforthly to be known as: Dragon in Exile.  The manuscript is due to Madame the Editor on September 15.  We fully expect to make that deadline, which means I need to beat feet with the braiding and bridge-building.

ADVERTISEMENT:  If anyone is interested — or knows someone who is interested — in purchasing a comfortable house in the beautiful Maine countryside (and I mean that sincerely), please write to me at sharonleeATkorvalDOTcom, and I will send the listing. Serious inquiries only, please. The house is what’s called hereabouts a “raised ranch” (which means a ranch house with a daylight, walk-out, basement), 3 bedrooms, one bath, half-finished basement with built-in bookshelves and a working All-Nighter woodstove, on 1.74 acres of mostly wooded land.  It has a newish roof with ice and water shields dams, newish vinyl windows, heating provided by oil via hot water baseboard units.  The house is situated about 6 miles out of town, and has its own well and septic system.  As an extra bonus, the property enjoys direct access to the local snowmobile club trail, which leads to ITS 85.  Listing price is $109,000.

And now, the promise to the real estate agent fulfilled, I’m going to work.

I hope everybody has a delightful weekend!

* * *

Progress on Dragon in Exile
83,077/100,000 OR 83% complete

“I find him dear, all right,” she said. “And the clan ain’t never let go of him, Mr. Dragon; don’t you bat them pretty green eyes at me.”