Thursday, August 31, 2006

Quick post with pics

I don't have the mental energy for a real post today, but I do have a bunch of pics I've been meaning to put up here, sort of a follow up to the whole series of patio posts. The first one is a bit gruesome (once you know what you're looking at). The deck was very spongy when Quin tore it apart (although that's not why we pulled it out - the reason was to improve the water drainage so it would flow out into the yard and not into the house). Once it was gone, the carpenter ants that had been infiltrating it for years moved into the house. About a week after the Orkin guy came the ants started falling out of the overhang under the sliding glass door. I'm glad they went outside to die in great twitching piles, and I'm not thinking about how many corpses are stacked up in my walls. *shudder*




For this one, you need to compare to the before picture I took (the third one I posted here). I told you we had mutant grass; those tracks are completely gone. (Well there was some seeding involved, but not much, really).


The last pic is of the patio itself, plus the patch that used to be patio but is now dirt. Do you see the diagonal line in the dirt? Everything on the house-side of that line is actually dirt mixed with concrete and angled to drain away from the house. That's going to stay dirt with paving stones and some sort of rock garden type thing. Perhaps you can tell by my vagueness, this is my husband's project. But I've been promised a bench under the arbor vitae so I can sit in the shade and write.




Wednesday, August 23, 2006

The bake sale was a success!

I told you all a week or so ago about my fellow writer EJ and his quest to sell stories to get his car back from the bank. Now the good news is in: he made his deadline with some cash to spare (which will come in handy for the other hoops they're making him jump through - sheesh, bureaucrats). Anyway, click over to his web page and check out the big grin on his face. That just makes it all worthwhile, doesn't it?

And special thanks to those of you who bought some of my stories (which, as it turns out, was more than just my Mom)!

Now I'm back to work. I'm on a run of 2000+ words a day, which is huge for me. I hope I don't jinx it by mentioning it.

EDIT: I updated my Zokuto meter over on the sidebar there, and since I was already messing with the template I updated all my links. There are a lot of cool blogs there; I invite you to click around a little.



Tuesday, August 15, 2006

I Gave my Daughter Movie Fame

ROBERT: What kind of stories have you been writing lately? Adventure? Romance? Teaching school?
NOVALYNE: I write down conversations I hear in my journal for practice. Sometimes I try a confession.
ROBERT: You got a lot to confess?
NOVALYNE: It depends, whether I write about what I do or what I think about doing. You know what, though? It still all gets sent back.
ROBERT: What was your last one about?
NOVALYNE: It’s a little hard to explain. It was called “I Gave my Daughter Movie Fame”.
ROBERT: (laughs too loudly) What’d you say?
NOVALYNE: It’s for the confessions. Aren’t those stories always a little bizarre?
ROBERT: (laughs) What’s it called?
NOVALYNE: “I Gave my Daughter Movie Fame”.
ROBERT: Really? And what’s it about? (laughs)
NOVALYNE: I’m not going to tell you until you stop laughing at me.
ROBERT: (stops laughing, motions for her to go on)
NOVALYNE: A woman has an illegitimate child, a daughter. The child is adopted by her aunt, but the mother can’t give her up, so she keeps helping her in secret, and…
ROBERT: (laughs softly) What? (keeps laughing)
NOVALYNE: Eventually she helps her become a movie star.
ROBERT: (laughs softly)
NOVALYNE: Very famous.
ROBERT: (laughs louder)
NOVALYNE: (laughing too) Stop laughing. It’s not that silly, is it?
ROBERT: Don’t pay attention to me. I don’t know a thing about illegitimate daughters or movie fame.
NOVALYNE: Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Well, I haven’t seen any giant snakes or big-busted naked women frolicking through the West Texas hills lately.
ROBERT: Oh, but I have. You look more closely next time.

(later)

NOVALYNE: I try to write about people with ordinary problems. Real people.
ROBERT: Now that’s where we’re different. I write about another age. Another way of life. Man struggling to survive. That’s my formula.
NOVALYNE: Well, you know those tiny farmhouses we passed on the way out? Those are the people I want to write about.
ROBERT: Not me. I can’t write about men who toil long on a farm, get drunk, beat up a wife who can’t fight back. Uh-uh, I can’t write about hate like that.
NOVALYNE: Well just cause you’re poor and you work hard don’t mean you’re hateful.
ROBERT: You’ve lived a sheltered life. You don’t know these people out here; I do.
NOVALYNE: Well, your stories sell, so people must want to read about muscle men who wrestle monsters and girls in skimpy dresses who don’t do a darn thing but sit around and watch.
ROBERT: (scoffs) You stick with me, girl. I’ll teach you about writing. And men.



Raise your hand if you know what that's from. Anyone? Anyone? It's from a criminally underappreciated film called The Whole Wide World. The ROBERT in question is Robert E. Howard, creator of Conan and Red Sonja (played to perfection by Vincent D'Onofrio). NOVALYNE is Novalyne Price, a schoolteacher who wants to be a writer (Renee Zellwegger, after her splash in Jerry Maguire but well before Bridget Jones).

This movie should be required viewing for any spec-fic writer that ever has to mix with the other kind of writer, the kind that writes about ordinary people with ordinary problems. There's a huge gap in understanding there, and it's for me the toughest part of dealing with other writers. They can't understand why you feel compelled to write about things that are impossible, and you can't understand why they feel compelled to write about things that are so implausible. "I Gave my Daughter Movie Fame" actually sounds readable to me. No child abuse or domestic strife or brave struggles against diseases. For me, those are the sorts of things I'm reading to get away from.

I took a creative writing class in high school with a friend of mine who only read books if they were based on a true story, so I became aware of this gulf between writers fairly early on. We would trade what we were working on, and neither of us could come up with anything to say. She couldn't grasp my need to create entire worlds that don't exist, and I couldn't see her need to write about things that didn't show me anything new. We made lousy critique partners, that's for sure.

I still occasionally have to read and comment on stories like these. I still never know what to say. I have a few more social skills than Robert E. Howard, I know I can't just laugh my ass off (especially since I'm writing these comments. LOL with a grinning smiley? Don't think so). And I know the writing is good, there is really nothing I can point at to the writer and say "fix this". It's a conundrum, not at all relieved when I read their comments on my work; clearly they struggle with the same inability to find anything to say. It's worse for me; there are more of them and they all enthuse over each other's work. I'm the only one scratching my head, moaning to myself that it wasn't really about anything.

All I can say is thank god for my spec-fic writing group. Finally I get to critique the cool stuff.

Saturday, August 12, 2006

Yeah, what he said

George R. R. Martin has been taking flack for some things he said on his LiveJournal (things which I mostly agreed with). Now he's come back with more words that just ring really true with me. Like:

I want the right to do stupid, hazardous, self-destructive stuff as well; to drink absinthe, smoke pot, smoke tobacco, drive my car without the seatbelt, bungee jump off bridges, watch porn, order my eggs sunny-side up and my hamburgers rare, have unprotected sex, drink unpasteurized milk. I have only done a few of those things, actually (I will leave it to you to figure out which ones), and most I would never consider -- but I SHOULD have the right to do all of them. The choice should be mine, not yours, and not the government's. Giving individuals a CHOICE in how we live is our lives is the essence of freedom, I think.

And shouldn't ordinary law-abiding people have the basic, fundamental right not to be treated like goddamned criminals everywhere they go?

It's all worth a read. Click here.

Friday, August 11, 2006

Two master writers talking shop

Worked way too late last night. Stayed up even later reading this really cool thing in the Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction. There is a new biography coming out on the writer James Tiptree, Jr., one of my sci-fi faves. For those not in the know, James Tiptree, Jr. was a sci-fi writer who won many Hugos and Nebulas but was a complete recluse. No one ever saw him. The reason for this was that Tiptree was actually a pseudonym used by Alice Sheldon. She was no ordinary woman, either. If she had never been a writer, hers would still be a biography I'd want to read (here's a Wikipedia article about her to give you a taste of what I mean, although it doesn't say as much as it ought to about her pre-writing life).

Now Ursula K. LeGuin is my absolute fave sci-fi writer, and I knew she had corresponded with Tiptree for many years thinking he was a man. To tie in with the release of the biography, FSF has printed a selection of their correspondence. If you're like me, nothing is cooler than two writers talking shop, especially two writers like these. I couldn't stop reading. If you're remotely into either of these writers, you really should check it out.

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

What's up with SFWA?

So, RWA (Romance Writers of America) just had their annual convention a few weeks ago. It's always a huge event, and many writers I know were there and had a terrific time. But do you know what makes RWA great in my eyes? It's not the convention (no one has more conventions than sci-fi, after all); it's their inclusiveness.

Pop quiz: How many publications do you need to join RWA? 1? 3? How do they define a "qualified market" for these publications? Well, let's check their website:

RWA welcomes new members. You need not be a published author to join Romance Writers of America; only seriously pursuing a career in the romance fiction.


Well, isn't that interesting? But maybe that's just RWA, though, that makes the commitment to culitvating new talent, to helping people get their start. Maybe it's a chick thing. Women helping women, in that Ya-Ya sisterhood kind of way. I mean, surely the Horror Writers Assocation (HWA) isn't so open to the unwashed masses:

HWA's active (voting) members are all published professional writers of horror. But you needn't be an established professional writer to join HWA. Your demonstrated intention to become a professional writer is all that's required to join HWA at the Affiliate level, because we know the first professional-level sale is often the hardest.

Oh. You can see where I'm going with, but here's MWA, Mystery Writers of America:

Affiliate members are writers of crime/mystery/suspense fiction who are not yet professionally published, and others with an interest in the genre, including unpaid reviewers.

Or SCBWI (Society of Childrens Books Writers and Illustrators):

Associate Membership is open to unpublished writers and illustrators of children’s literature or media, and those with a general enthusiasm for the field. Writers or illustrators who have been published in markets other than children's literature (but not in children's literature) would be considered Associate Members.

Some call it associate, some call it affiliate, but all these groups reach out to include new writers. Which is cool. But SFWA doesn't do this. Oh, they have an associate level. It's this:

To become an Associate member of SFWA, applicants must demonstrate:
One Paid Sale
of prose fiction (such as short stories) to a Qualifying Professional Market
, paid at the rate of 5c/word or higher (3c/word before 1/1/2004), minimum $75.

And those key phrases "Paid Sale" and "Qualifying Professional Market" are very stringently defined. You can't publish just anywhere, they have a short list of what markets count. I read most of those magazines. With the exception of the Writers of the Future anthology, which is by definition all new writers, you'll be lucky to find more than one story by a new writer in any of them. Not that I blame the magazines; I'd rather read the new Gene Wolfe short than something from a writer I've never heard of. But why does SFWA set the bar so discouragingly high?

This juicy quote comes from elsewhere on their website:

If you don't have enough sf/f fiction credits to get you into SFWA, SFWA membership would be of very little (if any) value to you.

Which frankly sounds a little elitist and snotty. How does SFWA differ from every other writers' organization, that there is no place for newbies? I don't know.

I've heard talk that sci-fi sales are declining and have been for more than a decade. Most booksellers when asked to name their favorite sci-fi novels name books that are all 15+ years old. Are these two things related? Maybe not. But what if they are?

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

My new addiction

When I decided to take this whole writing thing seriously, I needed to find ways to carve out the time to write every day. The first thing I gave up was television. Not much loss there. I still watch episodes of shows like Buffy, Angel, or Lost when they come out on DVD while I'm treading the mill, but aside from that it's just an hour of Adult Swim on Sunday nights and basketball when it's on (and I usually do something else like knit at the same time).

The second thing I gave up was video games. This one was actually harder, and it's the thing that still calls to me when I'm struggling with the words. Lara Croft beckons. I remember that I never did play Final Fantasy Tactics all the way to the end. Or Baldur's Gate, for that matter. Then I hear about cool games like the Sims, and I long for more hours in the day.

But mostly I keep those urges under control. Until last week...

As you all know, I homeschool my boys. I'm currently in a tricky phase where Oliver has started doing real school, but Aidan is not quite capable of working independently. I feel like Aidan is missing out on things I'd like to be doing with him but can't because there isn't enough time in the day. I wish he could do things without me, but how I can I make sure he's progressing with something if I'm not monitoring him?

Enter Rosetta Stone. This is the foreign language program that's pretty much universally hailed to be the best in homeschooling circles. To actually buy the program is over $200, but I recently found out that with a library card you can get it for free from the library's web page. It's considered a reference material. Now, Aidan has been learning Latin, which he loves but which happens to be very time consuming and is generally the thing we are most likely not to get to on a given day. It's a shame because he loves it, and yet it's not likely to appear on his standardized tests, hence the leaving it for last if at all. I decided to check out the Rosetta Stone Latin, to see if it was at a level he could do on his own.

First I did a few lessons in Latin, and they were perfect for Aidan. But I soon forgot that's what I was even there for. It was so addictive, just clicking on pictures, saying things out loud to yourself, and before you know it you've learned a bunch of Latin. It was like a video game, really. But I've already taught myself enough Latin to already know everything that Rosetta Stone has to offer. Not much fun there for me.

But look, there's Chinese! I never progressed far with Chinese. I tried an audio tape series that worked the same way as Rosetta Stone, no phrases to memorize, you learn words by figuring out what's being said just like a child learns his native language, etc. It was good, but I'm not an audio learner, I'm a visual learner. Rosetta Stone, with the added visual element of seeing the words written, is perfect for me.

After four lessons in Chinese I remember that I don't really have a reason to learn Chinese (aside from it's just cool). So I looked at what other languages they offer. I've been working on Icelandic lately since it's the closest to Old Norse (see how cleverly I disguise my addiction as "novel research"?). No Icelandic on Rosetta Stone. No Norwegian either. But they do have Swedish, which is a lot like Icelandic (kind of like French is a lot like Spanish).

So it's a week later and I've done about fifteen lessons in Swedish. Which I don't really need, since I decided not to use foreign phrases in the novel, and I'll most likely never travel to Sweden. And yet I can't stop. But there is an upside. It's become my writing reward. My goal for a long time has been to write at least 1000 words a day. Now, when I get my 1000 words done, I let myself learn some Swedish.

Yep, I'm one sad little puppy.

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Like a bake sale, but with stories!

My fellow Backspacer EJ is going through some tough times. As he says on his blog:

Hunter S. Thompson said that when the going gets weird, the weird turn pro. Well, I’m not sure how pro this is but trying to sell 1500 stories in 20 days is probably a pretty weird thing to try.
Let me explain.
Stress kills. It’s pretty good at knocking you on your ass, too. I hit the stress wall a year ago and it wasn’t pretty. I ended up losing my job and going on disability. Since then I’ve been struggling to keep things afloat, juggling credit card payments, a mortgage on a house that refuses to sell, rent and a car payment. The credit cards are long gone and by now my credit rating is sub-zero. My retirement account is gone. The house will likely be lost. And five days ago Exchange Bank took my car.
I can’t be without a car. I have doctors to see, therapy to go to, shopping to do and the transit system in this town is all but non-existent.
My first reaction was to roll over, give it up. I’ve been struggling for a year now, why keep it up? I’m tired. I can’t go on. Then I decided no, I’m not going to do that. I’m a writer. Writing is a struggle. I’m damned if I’m going to let them beat me without some kind of fight. So I came up with an idea. A weird idea. Maybe an idea that won’t work. But at least it was something. I decided I would try and sell 1500 stories at $2.00 a piece. Why 1500? Because I need to raise $3000.00 to get my car back. I may not be able to find 1500 stories but that’s what I’m aiming for. I hope to have a paypal account set up by the end of the day for story purchases.
But I don’t have, and couldn’t possibly write, 1500 stories in time. So I ran the idea by my friends at
Backspace, the best damn writers group on the Internet and the response, I have to be honest, made me cry. I’ve been receiving stories all day and hope to start posting them by the end of the day.
I need the help of bloggers as well to make this happen. I need the word to spread. Please, mention what I’m trying to do on your blog with a link back to this post.
And thank you. Win or lose, at least I’ve tried.


So if you're a writer, send EJ a story. I know you have one or two in a drawer; we all do.

I've been without a car once myself, for a blessedly short period of time, but that short time was enough to show me how impossible it is to get by without one. You may not know EJ but I do, and the man deserves the helping hand. I'm giving him three of my stories myself. And he's not just asking for a handout; he's selling something worth having. I like to think of it as a bake sale without all the fattening cake (although one of the stories I'm contributing just happens to be about a cake...). And I know the other writers contributing to this project. Take it from me, $2 a story from writers like these is a steal.

For more info, click over to his blog: Only on Sunday.

Update: The stories are going up here: 1500 stories - 20 days.