Category Archives: Writing

Editors and Writers

Ceri has been talking about submitting short fiction to magazines, and I’ve been talking about pitching this non-fic anthology series to my publisher, and I’ve only just had the realisation dawn upon me.

If this goes through, I’ll be the one sending rejection letters.

Ouch.

Also on the subject of selecting stories: I’ve been having trouble nailing down the specific selection criteria in this proposal. Stories must feel sincere; check. Stories must involve original, out-of-the-ordinary situations; check. Stories must have appeal; check. Stories must be in sympathy with the theme of the anthology in question; check. My publisher wants me to expand upon the criteria I already have.

Other than that, what do I say? How am I going to choose the stories? Honestly, writing down that I’m basically going to be using the Force and trusting my intuition in the process of story selection and approval is going to get me and my proposal laughed out of the office.

So help me out, dear readers. When you read an anthology, and one story or chapter sticks out (for positive or negative reasons), can you describe why? How do you put that je ne sais quoi into words? What makes a certain piece of writing special, and the others flat? Why does one succeed, and others fail?

Deja Vu

After another hour-long marathon conversation with my publisher, during which we discussed my late-February/early-March trip down to pitch this anthology series, I made a startling connection.

I’ve done this before. It was my thesis defence.

You write something, people read it, and have their own opinions. You show up in person before a scary panel of those stony-faced people, re-present your arguments with confidence and style, and then field questions in order to convince them that your conclusions are sound, and they should not only give you a degree, but hail you as a new light in the academic sky.

In this case, the only difference is that the something I’m writing is a six-page detailed proposal for an anthology series, and that they won’t give me a piece of paper to hang on my wall if I convince them; they’ll give me a contract and money instead. (You know – all those things that a degree doesn’t automatically do, but we all wish they did.)

So no, it’s not a glitch in the Matrix. It’s one of those moments where I’m relieved, because I now have an experience to which I can equate the current situation; I’m no longer working in a vacuum. It’s also a moment where I now can have genuine mini-nervous-breakdowns, because now I have a memory to build on and make even bigger and scarier when I envision delivering the pitch in a boardroom south of Boston.

Kind of good; kind of bad.

Mind you, I did kick ass during my thesis defence. I take comfort from this fact.

Foiled!

The high-speed package arrived. Yay! said I.

There were a couple of issues. Namely, the fact that all the manuals were in French, and that even though the salesguy had been told that we already had Sympatico service and wished to keep our e-mail address, we were assigned a new address, and a new user ID. I know how bureaucracy works. We’re likely to lose our current e-mail for a time, if not forever, while they sort things out.

Despite all this, I tried to install it this morning.

The operative word being “tried”, of course.

I wasn’t home when the salesperson originally came to our door. My husband therefore handled the transaction, with the best of intentions. The salesguy took a look at the back of our computer and checked off certain things on the contract, like the fact that we have a USB port.

“We don’t have a USB port,” I said when my husband told me this.

“Sure we do!” HRH said. “The salesguy checked!”

Yeah, well, guess what. The installation software ran a diagnostic on the computer and told me that I couldn’t install my new high speed kit because of two reasons: my hard drive wasn’t big enough, and I had no USB port.

The software doesn’t allow you to choose what hard drive to direct it to. My C drive was partitioned when Skippy constructed my machine, so of course it says it’s smaller than it actually is. I use my new second hard drive for programs now.

So: Sympatico gets called tomorrow. The high speed thing gets cancelled, and I’ll return this useless kit. When I’m ready, I’ll call and upgrade my service myself. I have been promised a new/old computer by the end of February (thank you, Ceri and Scott!); I’ll try again then.

My technical frustration has been assuaged by the production of an entire short story (which means I can take one of my story assignment postcards off my bulletin board), and eleven hundred words of a second new story. And a new version of the anthology proposal. And a glass of champagne celebrating t!‘s 100,000th word of Baker’s 12.

Plus t! said that the whole idea of being a gutsy author was nonsensical, since he had solid support from fellow writing-type friends which filled him with confidence.

Still, I’m vaguely frustrated, for some reason. There’s a warm bath in my future.

Yeah

I just stopped by Ye Olde NaNo Montreal Discussion Board to see if any recent news or announcements were up. t! had left a new message regarding the final hand-out of stickers. His sig moved me immensely:

NaNoWriMo Winner two years running (and screaming)
Ringleader of the finest group of writers anywhere, at any time

Heck, yeah.

Shiny!

Ye gods – I’ve been online for four hours. I finished my editing a couple of hours ago, and have since been gaming in a Changeling chat room for the very first time, instead of lurking and getting a feel for who and what and how. And I really, really ought to sign off and go to bed!

Curse you, Roo, for introducing this to me! (And I mean cursing in the nicest way, of course…)

Pushing The B12 Envelope

I love Baker’s 12. I really, really do.

Case in point:

meanwhile…
“I told you so.”
“Shut up.”

meanwhile…

It takes a talented and gutsy author to attempt a section of narrative like that. It takes an even rarer author to make it work. (Did I say gutsy? Maybe I mean arrogant. Gutsy just doesn’t describe t! very well. Neither does daring. If I use the word arrogant, I mean it with all respect, of course. And he has every right to be arrogant. He’s good.)

t! is one of those authors who pushes boundaries, limits, and envelopes. I’m using this particular example of his work because Ceri and I were in the room when he created it, and I loved it. (I’d link him here, but I know his site address is about to change, so why increase my update work? Look for the Teddybear Sawdust Show in the links bar to the right.)

How to describe Baker’s 12?

Well, the first thing I’d tell a potential reader is that it’s an exciting, challenging, experimental narrative. It involves the concepts of time travel, and situational ethics, two of my favourites. It’s character-driven as well as plot-driven, and it assumes that you have intelligence. That means it doesn’t cater to the lowest common denominator; I used the word challenging on purpose. It employs elements such as humour, gritty action, historical settings, assumptions, group politics, and red herrings, handling them all with aplomb.

What keeps me reading it? The fact that I can see a pattern emerging. Why did I keep plugging away at it, even though it wasn’t a linear story? The storytelling style, and the characters. I love that I can tell what character is in a particular situation just by the style of dialogue. The older I get, the more impatient I become with description-laden narrative. B12 takes the opposite tack, allowing you, the reader, to co-create the world with the author.

As I hate reading large amounts of text on-line, I recently printed all of B12 out and put it in a binder. I sat up until two in the morning in bed reading by candlelight while my husband slept, because I couldn’t put the damned thing down. What I discovered is that as much fun as reading the weekly installment is, the true patterns don’t emerge until you can read the whole thing in one shot. That’s another part of the author’s genius: accomplishing small entertaining bite-size bits, while simultaneously creating something larger.

So yes. Baker’s 12. Read it. Challenge your preconceived expectations of linear narrative, and discover that you’re actually smarter than you thought you were. And enjoy some darned fine fiction while you’re at it.

Update January 27 2004: t! has now officially moved his site. Click through to read the Teddybear Sawdust Show! and Baker’s 12. What are you waiting for?

In the dead of winter…

At this time of year, my husband and I get restless because we’re housebound so much due to the extreme cold. So naturally, we begin to think of ways to make the house more pleasant.

I went out for three hours on Saturday to do administrative teacher-type stuff, and came back to a cheery yellow kitchen. The transformation was literally that simple; I was present for practically none of the emptying of the room, the preparation for painting, the actual application of colour, and the replacement of the removed items. I left one boring kitchen, and came home to a different, bright one.

Yesterday, the bathroom was painted sage green and white. It looks fabulous. HRH even went so far as to paint the outside of the claw-foot bathtub sage green, which looks very cool. I was here for half of this particular endeavour, but I was away at the Beethoven rehearsal for the latter half.

It was, in fact, a very busy day. I had a three-hour rehearsal for the Beethoven, then came home to study group already in progress (in which time flew, making us late for…), then a Changeling game (which also went late thanks to our belated arrival, plus various things like dinner and bookkeeping and the first combat session of the story!).

The Beethoven: It never ceases to amaze me that I can sight-read brilliantly, but fall apart at simple passages that are played really fast. The symphony already sounds phenomenal; I can’t wait to hear the choir with it. I’m incredibly fortunate to be able to play with this ensemble.

The study group: Ah, the joys of discussing deity concepts, and the balance of male and female energies. Always fun. The nice thing about this group is that it’s made up of experienced people, so the discussion is very different from the discussions I usually have with students, for example.

The game: It’s been so long since I’ve made a character for a new game that I’d almost forgotten how much I hate it. Unless I have a very clear concept that pops into my head, I have to slowly try out bits and pieces that either work or don’t. This is the third session of world-building and intro games, and I’m still not settled on who this character actually is. It’s been frustrating because I’ve really missed gaming, and to struggle with a new character when I so desperately want to dive right in has been so maddening. Last night was as close as I’ve been able to come to feeling comfortable with her; dropping her age from eighteen to eleven has really helped nail it down and free me up to enjoy the game and explore her personality. I know that part of my problem is derived from my habit of firming up a character’s personality through gaming; it’s hard to know what a character is like until you’ve put him/her through some paces in context. I’m lucky to have an understanding group who chose to play a couple of experimental sessions to introduce the system and the world, which gave me a chance to stretch my muscles a bit and discover the character’s actual personality.

On today’s agenda: fleshing out the anthology series proposal for my publisher; working out a couple of brick-wall type passages in the Beethoven; and refilling my black ink cartridge with the ink that just arrived in the mail. Of course it leaked, so I have to email the company and ask for a new instruction sheet. Not much ink was lost, but as anyone who has ever had a leaky fountain pen knows, even a small amount of ink creates a disaster of epic proportions! And tonight, my CD-ROM drive gets replaced by the burner drive! Hurrah!