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.

Erratum

. . . speaking of words I don’t get to use nearly enough . . .

I am informed by Many Concerned Persons that almost everything I posted last night was glitchy in one way or another, so! Below is what I posted last night under the Liaden Read-Along on splinteruniverse.com. This is the whole of what I posted, and you may read it here.

So, what happened here?

Some people have noticed that the Liaden Read-Along has, to put it gently, foundered.

Some people, not necessarily the same people, have wondered what the heck is going on with that.

I will explain.

For those who are short of time and impatient with explanations, or excuses, the short form is: I was over-ambitious.

That’s it.  You may move on, as the rest of what I’m going to say past this point is an elaboration on that single fact.

Still with me?

OK.

So — over-ambitious.  I had a book to finish — not due until mid-April, but I had already missed two self-imposed deadlines for producing a draft that was complete enough that I could ask beta readers for help.  Ordinarily — ah.  Old speech forms. What I mean to say is — Previously, I would have talked out scenes, concepts and characters with Steve and he would, in essence, since I’m Lead on this book, help me catch unfruitful discursions on the fly.  I no longer have that luxury, and so find that I don’t know how long it actually takes to write a book, single-brained — thus the missed deadlines.

The alert reader will have noticed that mid-April isn’t getting any further away, so I — pushed to make it to An Ending, basically ignoring everything else in the process.

I wasn’t helped in my last minute push by the manifestation of Murphy, who decreed that I would catch a “viral something” just after the new year, so I couldn’t write for a few days.

However!  I have just achieved the Good Enough for Rock ‘n Roll Draft and will be putting out a call for Beta Readers.

Which means I’ll have a couple weeks to catch up on all that stuff I let slide.

Including commentary on the Liaden Books.

I will not be continuing in a chapter-by-chapter sort of way — for one thing, I’ve been reading in the evenings, and I’m half-way through Carpe Diem, while the commentary stalled at Chapter Six in Agent of Change — and for another, that really wasn’t working for me.

What I will be doing is commenting on the books, on things that struck me, surprises, dismays, and reflections of Real Life into fiction.

And that?  Is where we are.  Thanks to everyone for your enthusiasm for the concept of a read-along, and I hope you’ll continue to read on until the end of Diviner’s Bow.

I certainly intend to do so.