Tag: Liaden read-along

. . .that followed, followed after

What went before: Well. I finished Crystal Dragon last night. When it comes time, I’ll be talking about Soldier and Dragon as one work, which they are (much as The Queen of Attolia and The King of Attolia are one book, IMHO). I do remember thinking that we ought to have included “The Hound of Heaven” (Francis Thompson) previous to the text. Steve argued that it would confuse more than illuminate, though, in my head at least, Dragon has its (very deep and complex) root system there. He was probably right, though. Nobody reads the classics anymore.

In any case.

Saturday! Sunny; rained overnight, looks like. Not going to be nearly so warm as yesterday. I’ve got The! Studio! warming up, and will today remember to turn OFF the heaters before I turn ON the grinder.

My first cup of tea has just finished brewing and Firefly is stamping her tiny slippered foot — ahem. Her large, furry foot, wanting me to get into the chair so we can have our morning chat.

Later.
#
End of Saturday report.

The day was partially taken up with This Old House stuff — circuit breakers that wouldn’t unbreak, toilet that wouldn’t behave. I fixed all of it, eventually, and spent a little time with my glass project, cut out pattern stars for another project, and shared some lying-on-the-bed time with Rook (who took over my stomach) and Tali (who found a corner of folded-over blanket (Tali prefers blanket, God She knows what we’ll do when summer finally arrives). Since the reason I was lying down in the bed was to do my PT exercises, this was, as you might imagine, Vastly Convenient. But very comforting. Apparently, I’m on the lists as needing comfort.

I’m having some doubts about stained glass as an art that I’ll want to be pursuing, it taking more dedication than I’m free to give it, given the press of my primary art. Also, I’m having some serious trouble (1) scoring a line and (2) making it straight. I’ll visit The! Studio! again tomorrow and do some more grinding; there’s no rush, after all.

I started reading Duainfey at lunch (taking a break from the Liaden re-read; it strikes me that Crystal Dragon is a good place to pause), since I’m looking to republish it and Longeye.

Is there any interest in me discussing those books after I read them?

Other than that, I am not bouncing back as quickly as I feel that I should from having finished the book. OTOH, the absence of Steve was acute after I turned in the manuscript, and then the news of eluki’s passing.

Oh, and genocidal maniacs who have access to the means to make their threats good. That, too.

Rough month, all of a sudden, and it’s only the 11th.

Well.

I hope everyone’s doing as well as possible. Stiff upper lip, and a stiff drink, too, if it will help.

Stay safe. I’ll check in tomorrow.

Today’s blog post title taken, in fact, from “The Hound of Heaven,” by Francis Thompson, which includes a very specific flight along shifting ley lines.

Crystal Soldier and Fey History

Tuesday. Sunny and still cool. Trash and recycling are at the curb.

Today is Straighten Up The Office Day followed by an hour with the crafters at the library.

I am reading Crystal Soldier for the first time in 20 years and I am glued to the page. Good Ghod, what a great story! The characters are awesome! The world building is great and so far, at about the halfway point, I have no complaints at all.

I was thinking that I would skip the Crystal books, because so very many people have disliked them. Not nearly as many people as disliked the Fey Duology, and not approaching the level of vitriol, but still — a lot of people really, really disliked these books, and they were not shy of saying so.

I go on record now as saying the critics are wrong.

Firefly is being keeping very close, and is taking every opportunity to climb on my lap to purr and knead and head butt. Her tail is back to normal, and I?

Need to go find breakfast.

How’s everybody doing today?
#
A Brief History of the Fey Duology

Back in the early 2000s, Steve and I were writing Liaden books for Meisha Merlin and having a pretty good time, except that our paychecks were getting more irregular than we liked. We talked to our agent, who shared the Industry Wisdom that most writers did not put all of their eggs into one literary basket, but branched out, starting one, or even two, other series, under a (or several) pen names. They key was not to compete with yourself, because the intention of the secondary line was to smooth out the cashflow, not to supplant the primary work.

So, we brainstormed, we three, and we came up with an idea that was Nothing At All like Liad (saving a Regency-like setting for the human settlers), a Deeply Dark SF-grounded Fantasy which would be marketed under a pseudonym.

It was a good plan, and it might even have worked.

Except Other Events Overtook Meisha Merlin, and we were not only out of a job, but we were out a $ignificant amount of Back Royalties Owed. The sequel to The Tomorrow Log was a victim of this cataclysm. Fledgling-on-the-web was a benefit. Sharon re-entered the mundane world and took up the melant’i of departmental secretary at the local Little Ivy.

For a Period of Time, we didn’t know if we would retain our rights in the Liaden Universe, or if they would become part of the assets of Meisha Merlin sold to satisfy its creditors.

Our agent therefore had one thing in hand to try to sell for us, so that our cats wouldn’t have to go live under a bridge — the proposal for two dark “fantasies.”

And — all honor to her — she sold them. To Baen. Under the condition that they be published under the Lee and Miller byline.

Money talks. We took the deal. We shouldn’t have taken the deal, but we were, frankly, afraid. I don’t wish to paint Baen as a villain; in fact, they threw us a much-needed lifeline, and the fact that we’ve been publishing with them since 2008 tells its own tale.

But the Fey books — written against, as you might say, the Liaden books — the reaction to those books nearly finished me as a writer. Wow, did people hate those books, and they wrote to us, and they were Betrayed, and Horrified, and one woman said she had Thrown Away all of her Liaden books and — my ghod, what a mess.

And I was still working as a secretary at the college. Not my finest hour.

But! A happy ending. Meisha Merlin returned the copyrights to all of its authors; we resold ours to Baen, who, as I mentioned above, we’ve been working with ever since.

And we never tried to establish a second series again.

Reading Past to Present

Tuesday. Sunny and cold. I should get the trash and recycling to the curb — and I will! But right now it’s too cold for your friendly neighborhood author to move. Also the driveway is a sheet of ice, so I’ll have to put the ice grippers on my shoes.

Right now, I’m talking to you and drinking chocolate chai tea with half-and-half.

Early question from last night’s post! “Haven’t those guys ever read anything but SF?”

SHORT ANSWER: Dunno, but — it’s possible.

LONG ANSWER: I’ve talked about this before, and I’ll preface the following iteration by saying that I’m not trying to police anyone’s reading habits. Reading fiction is a relaxation. I’m not gonna tell you what beer to drink, either.

That said, and recalling that Local Custom, Scout’s Progress, and Mouse and Dragon file under SF — back when I was an eggling, It. Was. Not. Possible. to only read SF. Even someone who reads slower than I do had to read in a variety of genres, and while that doesn’t mean that people not so inclined had to read romance books (which, BTW, did not exist in today’s form), they did have to stretch their minds somewhat to encompass the protocols demanded by other genres. Maybe not by much, if they stuck to SF, and SF’s first cousin, pornography; action novels, war stories — but still broader than some people read today.

Because today, it is not only possible to only read SF, it’s also possible to only read the teensy, tiny subgenre that you prefer above all others. You never have to read fiction that makes you even the smallest bit uncomfortable, or offers you the opportunity to think a New Thought, or to practice a confusing scenario that that you might well face in RL.

Back in The Day, we were also taught to read. That is, we weren’t just taught the words and cut loose. We read out loud in school and answered questions. Now, I learned to read in a Catholic School, (an inaccuracy of its kind, but bear with me) and our primers chronicled the adventures of … Ann and David, I believe. They were teaching stories and had rather heavy-handed morals. And after we read each little adventure, Sister would ask us — Why did Ann do That Thing? Why was David worried? What did Mother say that you should all remember?

And I very much fear that the kind of reading lesson where children are taught to engage with the text, with the characters, and think about what the words mean, is a thing of the past, as well.

So! My tea’s gone. I think I’ll go rustle up some oatmeal.

Everybody have a good day.

Write like a girl

Monday. Full moon shining down through the clerestory window in my office.

It has been a long, strange day. I wrote, broke for lunch, and did a few chores, then when back and wrote some more. Ghod this is easier with two brains. Ahem. Having said that, I’m not precisely sure where the day went.

It must have been the Gala Celebrations that put me on the wrong foot.

Now I know that my tax rate has increased from 12% to 21%, and what that means in actual dollar$, I was able to write the check to pay off the installation of the sliding doors in Steve’s office. And there will be no more of that sort of frivolity in my life going forward, ref 21% above.

Tomorrow is All Errands All The Time. Wednesday and Thursday, most of Friday and Saturday, Sunday, and Monday are cleared for writing. Also, I really wish my brain was on my side, rather than the chancy ally it is. Flogging myself into a lather is really counterproductive, but all I can do is work around it.

I am, for those who have not given up on the whole Liaden Read-along, currently reading Scout’s Progress, which, every time I read it, I think “Yanno? This is my favorite Liaden novel.” It, with Local Custom, are of course the two Liaden novels Most Vilified by the Real Man Chapter of Real SF Readers.

Steve got not one, not two, not six, but many letters from chapter members urging him to “take control of his wife,” “clear all that relationship crap out,” and “write ‘real’ stories”. It would have been comical if they hadn’t been so angry.

I’m reminded of … Hawthorne? “That damned mob of scribbling women?” — I’m pretty sure it was Hawthorne. Local Custom and Scout’s Progress are worldbuilding masterpieces, though I say it of my own work. In addition, they are subversive, as all “real” fiction should be, and SF most of all. The characterization is flawless, the dialog is lovely, and — I’m just really proud of them, right?

But because they show the differences between cultures in terms of relationships, and families; in terms of the welfare of a child, and a woman who isn’t safe in her home — they were, as several chapter members who probably had never read one opined — “Mills and Boon garbage.” As well as “a disgrace,” and “not SF at all.”

Well. Rant off, I suppose. I should get something to eat, and a glass of wine seems to be in order.

I hope everyone had a good day. Yes, I’ve seen the news.

Stay safe. I’ll check in tomorrow.

May your days be brighter

And a blessed Imbolc to all who celebrate.

I celebrated by changing out the cat boxes, and vacuuming the basement.

Because my roommates are not good with telephones, nor, frankly, with understanding when I might need them to use the telephone, a couple years ago, I upped the population of Google Nests in this house, making sure I had one in more or less every room.

I have at last count 7 Nests, and when asked all will give me the current weather in the city in which I live.

Except for the Nest in the bathroom — you know, the room in the house where people are most likely to fall?  Yeah.  Well, for the past two years the Nest in the bathroom has operated under the persistent illusion that I live in Portland. Or at least that the bathroom is in Portland.

I have today — I believe — repaired that delusion. I will of course test this multiple times, but just now, after the fix and the reboot, when I asked it what the weather was, it gave me local conditions in this, my own, city. And when I asked it where I was located, it gave me the correct zipcode.

Other things accomplished today — books pulled and boxed and ready to go to the bookstore, where they will be entered into The System, and brought to the library on the day of my event.

The aforesaid changing out of the cat boxes and vacuuming of the basement, moving clean dishes from the washer to the various cabinets where they belong. I still have to wash the pots and pans and then? It will be Coon Cat Happy Hour.

So, yanno, not an earthshaking kind of day by any means, but I got through it, and that counts.

Tomorrow, PT first thing, then I have to stop at the bank for the first time in at least a year, then home again for work on the WIP and revising the Remarks. Oh, and I should write my wrap-up for Conflict of Honors, seeing as I’m halfway through Plan B.

Everybody have a good evening; stay safe.

I’ll check in tomorrow.