Cultural Genetics

Monday. Cloudy and damp. Bed’s been stripped, towels are drying, eggs on to be boiled hard, submitted news of LUC6’s imminent publication to MWPA’s newsletter. Sea Shanties streaming. Apparently the week’s theme is Sea Shanties.

Waiting for a friend to come by and pick up a thing, after which I b’lieve I’ll wander out into the day and perform this list of errands.

Many thanks to all (on FB) who weighed in on yesterday’s discussions regarding cultural relativity.

I’m a little past the half-way point in Duainfey. Altimere’s invention has been proved, and I haven’t seen any porn yet. I do see that we were very subtle on the SF underpinings, which is to say, I knew it was a First Contact novel, and Steve knew it was a First Contact novel, but we might’ve been the only ones. Though one of course must feel for poor Charlie Mason, taken up by the Purity League for building his steam carriage. Also, Points to the authors for that very telling discussion of duty in which Altimere likens his care for Becca to her care for her horse.

What else? Not much. Oh. I’m feeling some sharper today, which tells me that not only is writing a book much more wearing using only one brain, but recovery takes longer. Information, I suppose.

How’s everybody holding up?

One of the other things roused up out of muck at the bottom of my brain relative to yesterday’s conversation — there had used to be what were called “racy” or “naughty” novels. The Night Life of the Gods by Thorne Smith is my benchmark “naughty” novel, though Topper will do in a pinch (I adore Topper; I’d read it again, if I wasn’t afraid the book will fall apart on me). It seems to me that there are no more “naughty” novels, though I’d be pleased to be proved wrong (titles, anybody?), that we have various kinds of Romances — sweet, sexy, hot, and so on — and of course we have porn, but nothing that’s just … bawdily flirtatious.

Someone in yesterday’s discussions mentioned Nick and Nora Charles, who were more flirtatious than naughty; they teased each other: elegantly, wittily, playfully, sexually. It was play, and illustrated that they each felt safe in their partnership and with each other.

One of the things that continually startles me, in my Brave New World, is how carefree (“carefree” meaning “free of care”) and playful I was able to feel, knowing that I had backup, and genuine affection in my life.

Anyhoots! The eggs are cooling, and I need to get the towels out of the dryer.

 

. . .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.
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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.

Big Brown Truck delivers

A few minutes ago, a Big Brown Truck arrived in the driveway and offloaded a box of shiny, brand-new Liaden Universe Constellation Volume 6.

Proof of books:

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Despite a general feeling that I’ve been wandering around aimlessly for the last two days, I note that Steve’s office has been cleared of the Detritus of Creativity, surfaces dusted and rugs vacuumed.

This, mine own, desk sports two small, tidy piles to be dealt with in an on-going fashion. I need to fill out my To-Do pad for next week, but otherwise?
We’re good.

I think that tomorrow I will go visit My! Studio! reintroduce myself to my project and set up the grinder. That sounds like a good use of my time.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe.

I’ll check in tomorrow.

Finishing up the Fey

It is, by the way, snowing here in Central Maine.

From the mailbag: Why didn’t you stop writing?

And the answer to that is — you know this, surely? — Steve.

Possibly missing fact: I was lead on the Fey books; Steve was writing the chapter-a-week for Fledgling and then Saltation.

Continuing the story of why I didn’t quit writing:

I was in moderate hysterics, having come home from a bad day of secretarying, to find my mailbox full of mail hating on the Fey. Steve had hauled me to the kitchen table, poured the wine and said, “Tell me.”

And I told him: I told him that I loved to write but I couldn’t take the hate and the screaming and people telling me I was a pervert who wrote bad porn, and how dare I sully their eyes —

And he said. “So, are they bad books? Did you cheat? Did you deliberately write badly?”

And I kinda laughed right there and said, “Honestly? What bugs me the most about the porn comment is that it’s bad porn. If I’m gonna write porn, it’s going to be the best porn you ever read. And no, I didn’t cheat. They were hard — you know how hard they were — but I did my best by them.”

“OK,” said Steve, “so what’s bothering you is the hate mail. Don’t read it.”

“But we always answer mail from our readers.”

“Forward it to me. I’ll deal with it.”

“OK…”

“Anything else?”

“Well . . . I’m afraid I won’t be able to write anything, because I’ll be afraid of being screamed at.”

At this point, I believe the glasses were refreshed.

“We got into this because we wrote for each other,” Steve said. “And we said we’d stop, if it wasn’t fun any more. If it’s not fun any more, tell me. We don’t have to do this.”

And I said, “Let me think about it.”

We finished the bottle, as one does, and a couple days later, I started to write a story for the next SRM chapbook, and forwarded all my reader mail to Steve, who probably had written a script to send them immediately to trash-and-delete, and — here we are.

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?
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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.

Sunday evening report

So, another restful-ish day. I was, I admit, a little nervous of this activity, but Tali spotted me, and I’m pleased to say that I took a nap! Wow. I could get used to that.

As noted elsewhere, I ripped the guts out of korval.com and crammed the site into a new, very simple template. I still need help with the PHP issue, but I have help on-hand.

I have drafted, but have not mailed an InfoDump — that will likely go out tomorrow before I leave on my perambulations.

And that?

Is all I’ve got.

Everybody stay safe. I’ll check in tomorrow.

You really know how to dance

Saturday Evening: Well. That was a non-exhausting day! I even got to exercise, and work on the layout for the cover for the projected Fey Duology ebook release Many, many people are going to be confused, but I figure I’d better start as I mean to go on, so the cover will say!

The Fey Duology
Duainfey & Longeye

AARONA ZETO
writing as
SHARON LEE & STEVE MILLER

. . . since I’m gonna hafta write an Explanatory Introduction anyway.

Why “Aarona Zeto,” you ask? Steve and I were kicking around pseuds for those very novels ‘way back before we sold them to Baen under our own byline (probably the worst career mistake we made). I of course wanted “January Storm” (I always want “January Storm”) and Steve wanted “Aarona Zeto.” All things considered, I can probably let him have this one.

Other than that, yet still related — it’s awfully fulfilling to Do An Art that isn’t your Usual Art — in the case of the above, layout/design. So that’s fun, too, even if I haven’t gotten the exact results I want yet.

And in line with relaxing and all like that, I b’lieve I will pour a glass of wine and go see if there’s anything watchable on Netflix.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll check in tomorrow.
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Sunday. Rainy and cool. Gloomy. I have all the lights on.

Breakfast was Swiss cheese onna onion roll with a Peelz. Lunch will be bean soup.

Firefly’s tail is back to normal. I’ve been trying to get photographic evidence, but, frankly, she’s fed up with the Unreasonable and Embarrassing Attention being paid to her tail and is about to throw the paparazzi out on her ear.

Today, I have stuff to do, none of it urgent, some of it pleasurable. I have Formed a Plan for tomorrow, which is to drive to Michael’s in Augusta (obligatory Joann plaint here), and space around, thence to Belfast where I shall visit the co-op and the harbor, and maybe do a smol stroll along the harborwalk, if the weather cooperates. After that? Who knows. The Plan is for a small, friendly outing.

So, that’s what’s going on hereabouts.

What’s going on thereabouts?

Today’s blog post brought to you by The Romantics, “What I Like About You

The music make her want to be the story

Important Stuff First:  I saw Firefly’s tail at Full Upward Extension last night.  This morning, she’s preferring half-mast, which may mean it’s hurting her still.  I can give her the pain meds at noon, and will be doing so.  She did come to snuggle with me when I thought I was going to get up this morning, so we stayed in bed a little longer, talking about how scary That Whole Thing was and how was she feeling now, and articles I’d read about dogs who’d broken their tails and had to get them amputated before there was Serious Damage gone to their spines, and how I’d been really, really scared that she’d gotten cancer wrapped around her spine like her Aunt Sprite, and — well.  We promised each other not to do this again.

A little later, she joined me for our sitting-in-the-sunlight session.

Yesterday afternoon, I made an appointment to walk an alpaca at Northern Solstice Farm in a couple weeks. There will be a meet ‘n greet with the alpaca who agreed to walk with me that day, who will already have donned halter and lead, then an approximately 30 minute stroll either around the farm, or, if conditions aren’t too squishy, on a trail through the woods.  Now I remember why I have hiking boots.  I’m really looking forward to this, and glad I didn’t let myself talk myself out of it.

Other than that, and actually related to the alpaca walk, I’m trying to unfold myself — which is to say, to find the way back out of my head after the Intense Concentration required to finish Kin Right on time and correctly.  Steve would have had us out and about, walking up and down the world, breathing the air, taking photographs, eating out, and striking up conversations with strangers chance-met on beaches, in train stations, or in stores.

I . . . am not that ambitious, left to myself, and the timing’s a little unfortunate, as I find it’s Easter weekend (how did that happen?).  So, unfolding will take the shape of puttering around, straightening up, making hummus, blowing the dust off of my poor, abandoned glass project, maybe finding another movie/tv show to lightly binge, and planning a ride for next Wednesday or Thursday, when the weather is expected to be warmer and sunny.

The secret of writing is that you can’t write all the time.  So — aside an infodump, and blog posts, no Writing here at the Confusion Factory for the next bit.

Reading, though . . . I’ve finished reading Balance of Trade, and also Theo of Golden.  I’m about half-way through Seeking Persephone, and after that?  Crystal Soldier.  Speaking of literary whiplash.

And I think that catches us up.

Here’s a picture of Firefly, from this morning’s sunshine session:

Today’s blog post title brought to you by Dire Straits, “Skateaway

And THAT’S off my desk

Kin Right by Sharon Lee & Steve Miller, the 28th novel set in their Liaden Universe®, has been submitted. Final weight +/- 141,000 words, including a brief intro, the book itself, and the cast of characters.

Kin Right is the direct sequel to Salvage Right and a sort-of sequel to Diviner’s Bow, since Shan is crossing storylines.

Baen believes this title will be published in Spring 2027.

Now I need to put away the laundry.

I’ll say goodnight, now, I think. It’s been a long day and I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to be in a vertical position.

Everybody stay safe.

Prank-Free Zone

Today is April 1. This is an April Fool Prank-free Zone. Thank you for your attention to this detail.

This is also the anniversary of Steve Miller, Sharon Lee, Arwen de’Gray, and Archie McGee setting up their first household together.

Wednesday. Damp and grey. Oil delivery first thing, which I guess proves the algorithm, since the tank gauge was a squeak above 1/4 tank yesterday afternoon when I checked in.

Breakfast will be cottage cheese and an oatmeal cookie. OK. Two oatmeal cookies. I hope to decide if I’m doing errands first or getting with the Cast of Characters. I’m thinking errands first.  After, I can get as caught up in work as I please without having to keep an eye out for a good place to stop and go do the necessary.

Firefly gave my lap a good, hard workout under the Happy Lite and pronounces me in good shape for somebody in the shape I’m in. Tali is napping in Trooper’s box on the corner of my desk and Rook is on the cat tree in Steve’s office, overlooking the Long Back Yard.

What’re you doing today?