Went from 14 items out and circulating to 10, through 2 sales and 2 trunkings. Likewise, 4 rejections. No new stories submitted. I had once possessed hopes for "Sticks and Stones" but I can see that my feeling of anxiety over that story was justified.
Everything I wrote prior to 2002 is trunked, FYI. I think that was a good decision, even if it was a little bit heartbreaking in some regards.
Well, I've had a unique experience on writing "The Library Seed"-- unpleased with my first attempt at a beginning, I just gave up and started fresh. Four times. Fourth time was the charm.
That's pretty much the only time I've started something four times by choice (ie, I didn't lose the first and second and third drafts or anything), and certainly the only time I think the fourth time works better than the first. Refreshing! The difference lies in the fact that I kept starting the story at different points in the main character's life. Sure, you can start the story with the first library seed and the Librarian's long apprenticeship, but is that what the story is about? No, the story is about the Librarian's son and subverted destiny and, of course, the Seed, and the Library, too.
I don't know why, but it works now. And, I think it's given me faith to pick up "Sticks and Stones" and maybe do the same thing. Rewrite it again, until it's right. Until it sings and tells the story I want it to tell. Art is imperfect, yes, and art is where the emotion comes in... but my craft can be tweaked and tweaked again, and pushed closer to perfection. Or at least goodness.
Rewriting and I, we don't get along, and I think that's because of my impetuous nature and my non-completionist urges. I'm enthusiastic for beginnings, less so for endings, and while I've proven I can finish stories and even novels, I'm not so keen on the redrafting. (What the heck was all that stuff at the beginning then?) I think maybe I do need to reconsider my process is. Maybe I am one of those writers who needs to tweak every step of the way, rather than face the tedium of "this is the first draft, here is the second..." Something to consider.
Of course, maybe every singled durn thing I work on will happen in a different way, which is sort of how it seems to go, anyway.
Speaking of imperfect craft, I was getting antsy about Strange Horizons having my "Huntswoman" story longer than the Black Hole suggests they should. So, I reread "Huntswoman" and actually read it like I didn't know the ending already, and discovered I like it better that way. (Who knew? And when did I learn that trick?) I also found a paragraph--a whole paragraph--and about a dozen sentences that just... clunked. And cringed. And wished I was wiser and smarter and all those things. And realized I need to get back into the trick of reading my stories aloud before I send them off.
1 acceptance, 0 rejections.
I, for certain, did not expect to get that two weeks in a row.
This week, I worked a very little on "Lawncare in the Afterlife" and "The Library Seed" and "Coming Due." (sighs the sigh of the timelorn)
No Brook-book work either, and augh! Frustrating.
The only thing I did do was mend some tears in "Sticks and Stones"--which is a nice enough story, but I don't think is going to send anyone into paroxysms of happy. There's just not enough conflict. I don't know how to put any in, without writing a completely different story. Which, I suppose, I could and even should do at some point. Just... not now. Anyway, it's out with a handful of readers, and if anyone can point out just how flawed the story is, it's Jason. Yay for the Jasons of the world, for lo'--the Mers of the world certainly do need them from time to time.
I did have a break-through on "The Library Seed" on Friday, so I think I'll see how my fifth attempt at starting it goes. I have many pieces of the story, but no good beginning, and without a good beginning, there's not much point.
Now, just to figure out what children's books actually smell like... in spirit.
Who Will Take This Man? by Jacquie D'Alessandro (35)
A readable romance, with a nice combination of lightness and depth. The humor was spry, though some of the dialogue fell like chunks of paving stones (and early characterization of Meredith as a shrew rang untrue). The mystery angle was deftly handled; I was actually surprised, and yet bought it, in the end. I didn't realize until about an hour after I finished it that there was a dangling plot-thread--which, presumably, will be chased in another book. (Andrew and Catherine are so very clearly meant for each other.) Likewise, the other sub-plot romance, between the butler and the fallen woman, was extremely well-done.
My only quibble is that it delved into "mouth too wide for beauty" territory--glancingly at the beginning, but about halfway through the book (page 190, to be exact), it jumped in with both feet. The only saving grace was that it was the hero explaining it to the heroine (obliquely), but not even that overcame it...
He slowly traced his fingertips over her face... "This woman who has captured my interest... she is not a classic beauty. Her features are too stark and angular."
Ok. So far, so good. Stark, angular faces are definitely an acquired taste. But then:
"Her mouth is too wide and mobile, her lips too rosy and plump. Yet it is the sort of mouth that inspires sensual fantasies..."
Ok, yes, well. I'm well aware that the Regency era had a different standard of beauty than now, but let's face facts: she's beautiful, with her red, pouty lips. Ok? Beautiful. Also, the difference in the beauty standard is not explained in the text, ever, and so this statement that she's too blah for beauty (and yet we know she's beautiful) is unearned. He goes on:
"Her nose is a shade too wide, and her jaw far too stubborn... her smile is enchanting and illuminates her entire face. She has a a tiny dimple, just there" --he skimmed the pad of his thumb over the corner of her mouth--"that winks when she grins. Her skin is like velvet cream stained with peach that deepens and pales in the most fascinating way depending on her mood. And her eyes... her eyes are extraordinary. The same vivid aqua of the Aegean, just as deep, just as fathomless...."
Ok--stop! She's gorgeous, and we all know it!
I wish I could find Mrissa's entry on the "mouth too wide for beauty" thing. If I find it anytime soon, I'll post a link.
I dropped my laptop on my foot--or rather, I put my foot in the way of the falling laptop, feeling that I probably wasn't going to do damage to the appendage equal to the damage of dropping my main piece of equipment. I'd call it medium ouch. The laptop is fine.
The Write Clubbers are on their way to WorldCon next week, FYI. I plan to crouch at the feet of the great (metaphorically) and peck at whatever talent they drop. Rather like sparrows at an outdoor cafe in France. But less intrusive.
I made some progress on my redraft of "Sticks and Stones," and have found some readers for it. Unfortunately, on the way home from work today, I figured out that there's just not enough conflict in it. No climax. Hm. Can I even come up with a climax in such a quiet story? ...Crud.
The good news is, Miss Julie has posted stories to the Minions blog, and we shall critique her. Yayyyyy!!!
The Gunslinger by Stephen King (34)
This is the revised version. I could definitely tell where stuff had been changed, at times, but it didn't detract, no, not in the least. I thought, if anything, it strengthened things. Of course, it's been over a decade since I first read The Gunslinger, and probably five or six years since I read it last--but I read Wizard and Glass when it came out, without re-reading any of the stuff that went before it. (What's my point? My point is, I'm familiar with the world, but not over-familiar with the original book, so the revisions worked well.)
This book, to me, is hands-down Stephen King's best book. It's spare, mythic and doesn't get bogged down in the usual King book-elements. What are those usual King book-elements? That's a bit hard to pinpoint in one brief journal entry, but there is usually injected some piece of faux-realistic harshness that I just find... tiresome after a while. It's like, in an effort to make multi-dimensional characters, King falls down and makes them over-human or something. I like Roland best when he's being archetypical, relentless, super-human. Not frail and eaten by lobsters (yeah, I already started The Drawing of the Three).
King's other bad habit is also largely absent in this book: his driving need to tell you the end of the story at the beginning and at every stop along the way, which might be considered foreshadowing but mostly seems hamfisted. "What John didn't know was that death awaited him around the next corner..." Fortunately, I think King didn't know the end when he started this, and maybe not even when he revised it, and most of the foreshadowing in this book is either disguised as prophecy or actually done right.
With these two bad habits supressed, there's nothing to really get in the way of King's imagination or my enjoyment thereof. Roland is not a good man (well, maybe by his world's definitions, though his world doesn't place any premium on "good," I think), but his quest is compelling, nonetheless. Roland may actually be the pinnacle of King's achievements in characterization--in this book. Sadly, it doesn't carry through quite as clearly as it could in each of the subsequent books. I was surprised by how much more I liked Jake this time, and couldn't tell if it's because his character was expanded any, or if I just know him from future books and like him there. Or if my burgeoning maternal instincts have changed how I view boys--no longer peers, but as children who should be cared for.
Acceptance number 2 of the month: AstoundingTales.com wants "Her Kaleidoscope Eyes."
Man, that better not be all my luck used up for the year. Sure, I know... it's not all luck... but it's some luck. Enough that I should be concerned. You know, in between updating my bibliography and smiling a little smile.
And settling down with the novel, which doesn't actually know if it wants to be settled down with right now. Er, look at me, anthropomorphizing and projecting all in the same sentence. I don't want to settle down with it right now. Brain too fried. Short stories too jabbery.
(sighs) (shakes head) I really, really don't know when I became a short story writer more than a novelist. It certainly happened while I wasn't looking.
1 acceptance, 0 rejections.
Wow, that's a good week. I mean, on paper. But I like rejections, in some ways. It makes me feel like stuff is happening. Especially when I'm not really writing--cause then it's the only thing happening.
Oh, yes! Not writing (much). I hate overtime. I'm not sure I'm going to work much more of it, since it's not required. We'll see how the guilt gorilla of writing shapes up against the guilt gorilla of work. (Thing is, the writing thing isn't exactly a guilt gorilla. It's something else. Something like how runners feel when they don't run--twitchy anxiousness, fear that the skill/endurance/whatever will fade...)
Ah, well. I did write some on Friday, but it was an exercise in frustration--too scattershot.
I've been writing most of the evening, and still haven't done very much. I have these stories, and they just aren't quite coming out the way I wanted. Plus, I'm very much scattershotting it tonight: a little on this story, a little on that. That is either a problem, or I need to do more of it.
The biggest problem, though, is finding the true beginning. I don't know if anyone still reads this journal, but if you do, and you've ever done any sort of yarn-based project, you probably know the pain of finding the right end of the skein to pull from.
It's like that, yes, it is. It'll be just fine once I find the right end...
Anyway, I've worked on: "The Library Seed," "Coming Due," "Lawncare in the Afterlife" and whatever I'm going to name this marriage proposals, science fiction-Regency short story, that either is going to be steam punk or space opera--once it decides what we're going to do with atmospheric railways.
Uh, not so much with the writing. Totally gab-club. Doesn't help that Julie's all tuckered out, Lisa's just rejoining us, Lou's officially on a break, and I am not pushing myself to write due to work's pressure increasing. Eric's probably tuckered out, too.
In an ideal world, I would would look upon late August and the month of September as a writing sabbatical. Unfortunately, it kind of crept up on me, and I forgot how tiring 10+ hour days are, and didn't prep myself for feeling this way. The overtime is strictly my choice, yes. But. Eight-hour days at this pace would still be tiring. And I feel that taking time off for WorldCon must be paid for in some fashion. My boss is doing me a favor by letting me off for WorldCon; in turn, I feel like returning the favor by making sure that they get as few complaints as possible while I'm gone by having as much done as possible.
The frustrated romance novelist in me is snapping this one up:
A multipart series on writing sex at Fluid Artist.com
Story for Sale! Sold! "Shotgun", to one flashquake, forthcoming in their September issue.
Carry on.
The Wide Window by Lemony Snicket (33)
Again, read with Kayla, but this time I challenged her to read it on her own. When she was done, I read it, and we discussed it. This worked quite well, and I discovered that she's a much more careful reader than I gave her credit for, which was a delightful surprise. In turn, she discovered that no, she's not at the height of her reading powers yet (which you'd suspect she knew already, but apparently, no) when I finished the book in well under two hours, and it had taken her the better part of her free time for several weeks. We talked about how the only way to become a faster reader is to practice, and then discussed the story. A LOT. Her capacity to yak over literature may lead to great things...
Overall, I liked this installment quite well, and was not in the least surprised when the adults proved incompetent again. Maybe it just goes faster when you aren't reading it aloud a chapter at a time. Either way, I had many laugh-out-loud moments, and had the realization that it's a fairly good thing Mr. Poe doesn't become rational and helpful, lest he die horribly.
I plan on writing tonight, but ultimately, not a lot of progress on any one project this week.
One rejection, on "Dead of Winter." I will send it out again. But not for a few days. Maybe not until there's another story back in the fold. It's just as easy to send out two stories as one. It is not just as easy to send out one as none.
Plugging away at The Bitter Road. Plug, plug, plug.
Ever have one of those days where you're writing along, and then you suddenly pull back from everything in a disastrous case of jamais vu and think, "Who cares about this? It's so clearly all something I just made up, anyway!"
Dear Julie smiled knowingly at me when I said something to this effect tonight and said, "It's fiction, Mer."
Some moments aren't actually meant to be blogged, but here they are anyway.
Last week:
I made tiny progress on the novel rewrite, about eight hours less than was my goal. Well, I think I did work on it some other times, but it was in the "tweak one word and close the file" vein, and very well may have added up to the ten hours of my goal, but I'm not counting that time. Bleah.
I looked at "Sticks and Stones" and did a first run-through rewrite. Time to let it rest again for a while. The Minions are the next step--or other readers, should any appear on the horizon.
Hm. I did not rewrite anything else. (Kicks stupid goals from last week.)
Anyway. I think I have to remember that less-specific goals work better for me. That the only time I can get specific is in my lists and priorities, which are generally not shared with the reading public.
Three rejections: 2 on "Dead of Winter," one on "Sir Michael." Michael is temporarily trunked, until a market comes along. "Dead of Winter"--well, I'll keep trying, even though I think it's possible I managed to exterminate the dream-like quality that editors liked when I tried to concretize the story (which editors thought it needed).
No acceptances.
le sigh
Well, after a good night's sleep, I'm back on the resubmitting bandwagon. I can't honestly decide where that line between trying and trunking gets drawn, but I guess, like art or pornography, "I'll know it when I see it." One of the hardest lessons I learned last year was persistence. It's a fresh enough lesson that I can't just let it go.
I'd rather try too hard than not hard enough, anyway.
Rejection on "Sir Michael" as well. Not many markets left for that one. Trunking may happen sooner, rather than later.
There really was none to report yesterday. Yesterday, I was stalled. On reading and writing. It happens, this time of year with the day-job and all. I need to remember that, and not kick myself too hard when late August and the month of September look bad in the statistics.
But, vacation next week (which is actually pretty untimely for a vacation, but it needed to be taken).
And a multi-paragraph-essay rejection on "Dead of Winter," which was nicely encouraging in general even if rather down on my story... except that I let it make me feel vaguely uncomfortable with sending the story out again afterwards. It made me feel that, yes, your submissions are how people judge your worth as a writer. Yes, if you're sending out less than your best work, they're going to judge you as less than you are. It doesn't matter that it was your best work at the time. It's no longer your best.
I'm trying to figure out where the line between trunking and trying is really drawn.
Looks like "Subletter" made it past the first round at ASIM. We'll see how round 2 goes. "One Million Years" made it past the second round there and still didn't get picked for publication, alas.
Sadly, that's all the news.
I need to get more news, y'know?
I ran across my writing notes from my trip to Scotland the other day, and was surprised at how many little things I had a) noticed; b) recorded and c) since forgotten.
I had not forgotten how taken I was by the rows upon rows of conifers covering the Scottish mountains. I need a little cottage on a mountain, that looks out on other mountains; I think, after contemplating the countryside every day for five consecutive seasons, I may find enlightenment.
Well, it's nice to think that would do the trick.
I proceed on apace with rewriting The Bitter Road; I'm at one of the medium points, stuck firmly in the middle of thinking this is unpublishable tripe and being pleased with my effort.
I really wish there were a magic Objectivizer one could run over one's work (or one's self; I'm not picky), so that at the end, one could tell if one had trash or cash in one's hands, without going through the laborious process of getting other people's opinions.
Actually, it doesn't have to be magic. I'd take a technology-based Objectivizer, instead.
I maybe should probably get back on board the weekly update train, though, honestly, monthly updates would also be good.
So, a little of both.
Last week:
I made some progress on the novel rewrite again. I think I may have broken through the block, whatever said block was, and now am more or less comfortable with the deep surgery. I'm... getting a little frightened of having it beta'd, just because I think it would depress me to discover it needs more surgery after this one. But, I'm mostly pushing back the fear. Fear like this is usually a sign that something needs to change, right?
I queried two items and found out they were never rec'd, so I turned them right back out the door.
I got a really nice rejection on "Sun's East," and sent it back out.
I got a good look at "Paradise Covenant" and stopped hating it. Enough to start rewriting it, in fact.
This week, I plan to finish rewriting either "PC" or "June Mothers" (or both) and do at least ten hours of work on the novel. I can't calculate how fast I rewrite, or even can rewrite, so... I'll just have to measure by time, and trust that I actually work during said time.
Last month:
submissions: 11
rejections: 2
withdrawals: 2
new stories circulating: 3 ("The Regency and the Roman," "Shotgun" and "The Subletter of my Subletter")
July battle did not go so well.
I did not know:
feuilleton
plumply (in the vein they meant it, as "forthrightly")
conquian
balneology
Golconda
bootless (in the vein they meant it, as "useless, unprofitable")
peregrine (again, the vein, as "having a tendancy to wander" instead of small falcon) (and yet, I know perigrinations)
amphigory
minatory
conventicle (yeah, and Lou knew this one)
litotes
vespertine (if only they'd chosen crepuscular)
(sniff) That's terrible. I don't have the heart to tell you the ones I did know.