WordPlay

Every time I start first draft on a hefty project, my brain sprints for the gate.  There begins a long process of negotiation: the muse vs. real life.

Really, the brain wants nothing to do with it.  “Noooo,” it whines.  “Why can’t I have it aaaalll?”

Because it apparently just doesn’t work that way.

So after a certain amount of struggle, the muse will give a little ground–just enough to keep certain critical real life activity from imploding–and Real Life will give a little ground.  Or maybe a lot of ground.  Eventually, a lopsided balance of sorts will be struck.

But on this first day?  The brain is not interested in coming out to write a blog.  On this particular first day, the brain is a lot more interested in a proper opening for the story so many readers requested–Ruger’s story in my Nocturne Sentinel series.  The classic background character who sparkled on screen and demanded some time of his own, that’s Ruger.

Not that I’m complaining.  Neither is my muse.  My brain, as usual, is still trying to find the balance.

(Someone tell me I’m not the only one.)

Meanwhile, I think “A Bitch in Time “is still lingering as a freebie–that’s still a gone-any-minute thing–and Wolverine’s Daughter is on a 30% sale at ARe  until the 27th.  They’re both clickable from my Backlist eBooks page.  Happy reading!

DART BEAGLE!

It’s happened AGAIN.

That would be the way my work with critters habitually turns into metaphor for my writing.

While I could be talking about the incredible icy poo-fest that is the barn frontage this particular winter (in fact, given the state of the industry, I probably should be talking about the incredible icy poo-fest that is the barn frontage this particular winter), I’m somehow not.

It’s about tracking, really.  And how being on the end of the tracking line is a whole lot like wrangling the muse.

Every dog has a different style when tracking, but staying on the track is the only way to get the job done.  Enticing crosstracks won’t do it.  Following that just-flushed jackrabbit won’t do it, either.  Following blown scent instead of the actual track isn’t going to get you there, or getting stuck in scent pools won’t get you anywhere at all.

It’s up to the handler to question the dog, create a thoughtful process, and not follow blindly where the dog leads.  After all, if you step out confidently when the dog is merely pondering a crosstrack, then the dog may well rightfully think, “Ah HA!  She wants me to go this way!”

And yes, a writer needs to stay on track.  Both with editorial expectations (some publishers more than others) and with storytelling needs.  As in, there are certain necessary elements for a good story, no matter how many individual ways there are to approach those elements.

At the same time, the handler has to trust the dog.  No human can detect the scent the dog follows; only the dog can say where the track goes.  And while the handler employs an understanding of scent behavior and dog body language to know when to follow freely and when to wait and watch and stay out of the way and when to say, “Are you sure?”, at some point you simply have to trust.  And if you don’t–if you start questioning and hesitating in that moment you should be trusting…then the dog loses confidence.  Shuts down.  Quits.

It’s just the same with writers, right?  A writer needs to follow her muse.  Restrain the muse, and she shuts down.  Tell her no too many times and she flips you a rude gesture.  Ignore her insight, and go down a duller, well-trodden path instead of managing a bright new track through unexplored territory.

Add it all up and it becomes a dance.  Knowing enough about the territory and conditions and expectations–not to mention the muse or the dog–to provide the necessary guidance.  And then, knowing when to just plain trust, even if the track goes in an unexpected direction.

See?  Is that totally a tracking as writing metaphor, or what?

The muse rules.

My muse doesn’t have a name, which is kind of odd because my research muse certainly does (it’s Spike, which should give you an idea of the pushy nature of said research muse).

But she rules, regardless.

That means I write.  I write regardless of whether or not I have a contract.  I started writing in 7th grade (the first book, modest as it was) and I wrote through junior high, high school, and two different colleges.  Once I was living on that beloved mountainside in Eastern Kentucky, I wrote even more.  I wrote my way through Virginia, through Ohio, back to Western New York–and there, I finally sold the first book.

The point being…I write.  Regardless.

When I don’t write, the world is askew.  The pressure of that need builds inside, rather like the onset of a spastic tick.  Or the pressure of a big pending burp.  Or something more glamorous than that, if I could only think of it.

These past months, I’ve been involved in a lot of projects, and a lot of things that aren’t necessarily first draft, even when they’re part of the writing process.  It hasn’t escaped me that with each passing day, my little frantic undernote of being off-balance grows greater and greater.  Or that these other things, having forced their way in to eat my life, are really, truly eating away at the thing that keeps me whole.

The challenge is getting back to that whole–that pattern of basing the day around the writing.  Once you’ve fallen into that frenetic, off-balance place, finding the balance again isn’t always easy–especially when you have to say “no” to people to do it.  (And especially when real life isn’t cooperating, with weather chaos, wrecked van chaos, injured dog chaos, publishing industry chaos…oh, you just name it.)

So this week, I’m practicing.  Writing FIRST, other things second.  (This is complicated by my natural pattern of writing in the evenings, but I’m working on it…)  Because the muse is staging a rebellion, and in this case it doesn’t mean refusing to write…it means demanding to write.

I mean, it’s not healthy to hold in a burp that big, right?

Dear HuluPlus: I’ve already ditched satellite for doing what you’re doing.  Don’t think I won’t ditch you.

For years I’ve been impatient with satellite and cable services–you pay a bazillion bucks for a bazillion channels you don’t want, and watch four of them.  And if they offer a basic service, it’s either not really basic at all, or it very carefully excludes that one Very Important Channel so you have to bump up the service to get it.

Well, the roofers broke our satellite dish last February, and rather than have it fixed, we decided to explore other options.  In the end–after eight months or so of pondering–we recently decided to get a little Roku box.

We opened a HuluPlus account to go with it.  I admit it–we were lured by the promises of fewer episode limits on the available shows, more shows, and various perks.  I really like just being able to go to the shows I want, too.

Yeaaahhhh….not so much.  It turns out that the episode limits still apply to current shows.  And I still have to go to CBS to watch my CBS shows, etc.  And all that additional touted content comes from obscure stations/obscure shows that might be of interest to a collector, but for me just clutters up the options.  My shortlist is no more available with HuluPlus than it is with plain old Hulu.

And finally, there are still commercials every 7-8 minutes.  (Yes.  I found them so annoying that I timed them.)  They’re not long breaks, but they also don’t have any work-arounds.  Hulu gives you the option of indicating whether the commercial is relevant to you, which I stopped bothering with when I realized NONE of them were relevant to me.

This past weekend, we were trialing, and we took along a KindleFire.  This was initially awesome, as I was way behind in one of my favorites–Covert Affairs.  In fact, because of the Hulu limit on episodes, we purchased the first batch of season 2 episodes from Amazon, and by golly, I watched TV in bed while resting up from the intensity of the agility days.

Then it was time to move on to the more Hulu episodes, but…oh, woe.  Hulu couldn’t offer this show to a device.  So I checked out my other shows, all of which I’m behind in watching and would have been glad for a little catch-up during this rare opportunity.  Oh, woe–they were CBS shows, and not available.  Or they just didn’t show up on the search.  Or…or…OR!

I read a book.  (Bound by Suggestion, L.L. Bartlett)

So…yeah.  We’d had HuluPlus for only ten days before it became obvious that we were essentially paying to see the same content under the same terms.

You know, Hulu people, I’m not stupid.  I was bound to figure it out.  Did you really think not?

The main reason we opted in to the service was because it takes a Plus account to connect with the Roku.  But there are other options for the Roku.  And I would rather ditch a service that isn’t offering me anything and use that money to buy individual episodes of the exact shows I want.

I tend to think this is the lesson of the decade for entertainment providers--for publishers, stores, and media folks.  We have more options than we used to–we can choose the all-in-one package, but we can demand more flexibility, also.  We can go to the traditional source, or we can find niche options that more closely suit our needs.  It isn’t all-or-nothing any longer–and at last, surley and ineffective customer service will have consequences.

Yes, we have *monster truck announcer voice* Choice Power-er-er!!

I kinda like it.

It’s my own fault.  I waited a couple weeks, and then I put that new book release schedule on the blog this past Monday morning.  Right out there for the world to see.

And lo, Monday afternoon, I exchanged a few words with my editor, in which we counted on our fingers, looked at what remained to be done, and decided that July for Tiger Bound was just a leeetle too optimistic.

So that book is now an August baby, and my editor and I get to keep our sanity.

Except for the part where I run around my web site, blog, FaceBook, newsgroup, and Twitter, cleaning up after that July thing!

The Sentinels

Night of the Tiger (Bite): Dec ’11
TIGER BOUND: Aug ’12
KODIAK CHAINED: Dec ’12

Demon Blade
Demon Touch (Bite): Sept ’11
DEMON BLADE: ’13
DARK BLADE: ’13:

No, really.  I MEAN IT!

Late last week I “picked up” a new ebook from a small press.  I read only a short way into it and realized it didn’t meet my standards for craft, storytelling, or character presentation.  Bummer.

So I “picked up” another ebook, this one a sample.  Not from a small press, but the prose was dull and the bones of the plot showed through.  Still, there was something about the concept that caught my interest, so I told Nookita to check it out at the store.  Oh, wow, really?  Almost ten dollars for this ebook?

Yeahhhhhh…. 

No.

There’s a reason some of my ebooks are priced at 99c–it’s a Try Me strategy.  The first book mentioned above was  a Try Me priced book, and I was okay with taking that chance even when it didn’t pan out.

There’s a reason the rest of my works are priced reasonably--and why we have that philosophy over at Backlist eBooks, too.  Mine are 99c for the stories, $1.49 for the novella, and $3.99 for the full-priced books–because I think ebooks should cost a reasonable amount.  That second book’s price isn’t one I’ll pay for my favorite authors, never mind a casual read.

So after an evening like I had last week, what’s a reader to do?

Go back to Little Women, that’s what.  Luxuriate in the tried-and-true, and retreat, for the moment, from the combat shopping experience ebooks sometimes offer.   Besides, I first read this book so very long ago (as in, when I could still count my age on both hands), so I don’t remember the details.  And Jo is up to something–!

I’ll poke my head out again bye-and-bye.  Read any good, reasonably priced ebooks lately?

What’s that, you say?  Aren’t you keeping us up to date any longer here on WordPlay?

Just as soon as I get back from twelve hours of agility trialing for two days with the Beagles.  

#FreeDLJ!
And writers, take a look before submitting your work.  Knowledge is power…

======================
This is a vastly updated version of Q&A #1.  It’s lots different, though–I just didn’t want to stick a second post in this space to clutter things up.

If you haven’t seen the BoingBoing post—or read Cory Doctorow’s wonderfully concise and clear comments regarding the nature of regular trade channels—you might find it of some interest. Not everyone there thinks I’ve got my head screwed on straight, of course.

In response to the most common point I see being addressed in comments here and there:

Yes, in a perfect world, the contract reversion clause would have been more tightly negotiated–but we had to fight tooth and nail to get what we got.  Going forward on those terms was a decision I made on the basis of significant mitigating circumstances–my agent responds with a little more detail in the original post comments. By all means, learn from this situation.  But the main point here is how this publisher has behaved for the past eighteen months.  Learn from that, too.

The Original Post
The Timeline
The BoingBoing Post
The Writer Beware Post
WriterBeware Comments Further (scroll down!)
Twitter #FreeDLJ

Regarding my awareness that this is a Canadian publisher—yes, I know that.  It’s been taken into account with regards to the distribution conversation, as has the industry standard meaning for “regular trade channels.”

But delayed, limited online availability doesn’t constitute regular trade channels.  And even this (Tuesday) evening, a search on Indigo.ca of all the Chapters, Coles, and Indigo bookstores in Victoria, Calgary, Edmonton, Saskatoon, Winnipeg, and Toronto has revealed DLJ to have one copy on the shelves at one store.

I’ve said elsewhere (I haven’t the faintest idea where.  It’s been a crazy couple of days) that I have no delusions that this book should be a best-seller.  It’s a 17yo title which sold modestly the first time.  The first edition copies are regularly priced at sums that startle me, but it can also sometimes be found at your basic used-book price (note:  it’s easier to find a used copy of the first edition than it is to find the reprint under discussion–I signed three of them at the last convention, after which they went back in their plastic protective sleeves).  To some extent, conversational threads that go in that direction–my unreasonable expectations or some failure to understand the modest nature of the book–are only misdirection.  To the contrary, I have a very good (and realistic!) idea of what this book could be selling.

Meanwhile, I’ve left a comment here and there, but I haven’t engaged in any significant conversations outside this blog.  I’m aware of what’s being said about me, and…well, I disagree.  Let’s leave it at that.

I admit it. This is not my strength. I’m not someone who enjoys a good rousing argument or is invigorated by social conflict. Mainly, I’m doing my best with something I feel needs to be done. Probably that means it could be done better, but you know…here I am, and here it is, and so be it.  I mainly hope the word of this publisher’s behavior over the past 18 months is reaching agents and authors who are considering submission plans.

PS: First-time posters on this blog pass through moderation before posting, and always have.  This is a Zone of Thoughtful Discourse, whether you agree or disagree with me.  Visitors here should feel safe to post, either way.  Visitors of Virulence will receive the Mighty Click of Moderation.

Ready for some Wednesday Goodies?

Here’s a goodie to start with…for those of you who read Monday’s Barking Dog Blog (which was written late Sunday)…Monday was the first real test of the Barking Dog Response…that is, would Neighbor listen to the request in the note I wrote?

Monday, I am pleased to say, was quiet.

Tuesday, I am pleased to say, it rained most of the day–so basically, who knows if it would have been quiet or not.  But the rain was a major boon (and it came without the massive hailstorm that ripped apart this area last year at just this time), so either way…definite Goody.

Why, I might even risk riding Duncan on our north flat today!  (But, hmm…I think I’ll have earplugs, just in case.)

Otherwise, on the Goody front?  I got another short story out in the backlist offerings!

$.99
First Published: 2004, DAW: ReVisions
BACKLIST EBOOKS: ALL FORMATS

In Neil’s world, there are miniature seeing-eye horses, service pigs, stock-guarding llamas, and bred-up Siamese guard cats—because in Neil’s world, dogs were never domesticated, and never will be. But it seems no one’s asked the dogs what they think…

Originally published in the DAW anthology, ReVisions—an anthology of alternate history stories that consider what would have happened if scientific and technological breakthroughs–and challenges–occurred long before they did in real history.

[included in THE HEART OF DOG]

Definite GoodieFest day.  Got any to share?

That’s me.  Evil Overlord of my characters.

Evil Overlord:  Plans to interfere with his targets’ lives.

Me:  Plan to interfere with my characters’ lives.

Evil Overlord:  Is constantly thinking, “What can I do to cause trouble for these people?”

Me:  “What can I do next to cause trouble for these characters?

Evil Overlord:  “In fact, what can I do to tear them to shreds?”

Me:  In fact, what can I do to make things as difficult as possible?

Evil Overlord:  “HOW SHALL I KILL THEM?”

Me:  HOW SHALL I–

No, no no.  Wait a minute.  Here’s where we part ways.

For me, it’s How will they get out of it?

What new depths of themselves will they plumb to climb out of this personal disaster I’ve created, possibly while also saving the world?

(Possibly.)

Because the thing is, as the author, I don’t usually have any idea how they’re going to get out of what I put them into.  I’m so focused on getting them to the point of ultimate internal and external disaster (because, you know, that’s just the way I am) that when I reach it, I often go…

Me:  Uh, durrrr… NOW what are they gonna do?

The fun thing is how well it often works out.  If you read Storm of Reckoning, you’ll reach a point shortly before the end where…well, where things happen.  Go on, read it.  You’ll know where I mean.  Well, confession:  I didn’t know that was coming until about two pages before I reached it.  It was all, “Ahhhh!  What’s Garrie gonna do?!  How’s Trevarr going to get out of this one?!”  Complete with melodramatic punctuation.

And yet oddly, looking back on it…I don’t know how that scene could have turned out any other way.  Or that I would have wanted it to.

(The very end?  Well, I knew THAT was coming.)

It’s not all just a random power trip, by the way.  It’s not doing unto for the sake of doing unto–

Evil Overlord:  What are you talking about?  Of course it is!  And what a power trip it is!  Mwah ha ha!

*stuffs Evil Overlord into a gunnysack*

It’s NOT.  By pushing my characters to the limit, I’m exploring who they really are…and in a way, I’m showing myself what can be done.  Paving the way for that mindset, so when I reach my own roadblocks in life (an overly-profound phrase if I ever heard one), I don’t buckle or fold.  I don’t exactly think, “What would Garrie/Trevarr do?”–that would maybe be kinda creepy.  But I do fall back into the awareness that how I deal with difficulties–what I envision for myself–has a huge impact on the resolution of those difficulties.

Muffled Evil Overlord:  You are full of crap!  It’s all about the POWER!

Yeah, yeah.  Move over.  My people have a world to save.  Just don’t ask me how.

*wrote this one for my agent’s blog this spring; saved it up for a day that needed a good snicker

There’s always some woo in my books.  As in, woo-woo.  I suppose also as in “wooing,” but I swear I wasn’t trying to be punny when I started this sentence.

(Was that convincing?)

Anyway, I’ve been thinking about the Reckoners a lot lately, as I begin the preliminary work for the third Reckoners book.  (The first two were THE RECKONERS and STORM OF RECKONING, in case anyone’s lost track, along with partner story, “Deep River Reckoning.”  So I’m taking another look at those books–at the things I did in those books.

And I realize it was bound to happen–that I’ve finally set a book in Sedona.  I mean, take one writer of things fantastical living only an hour away from the red rocks, canyons, and vortexes.  Give her a decade of exposure.

The inevitability of it is clear.

Seriously!  Only an hour away from the woo-woo!

Not that my characters were as enthused.

Lucia Reyes:  Shopping?  In tourist Trap World?  I don’t think so.
Lisa McGarrity:  Reckoning?  In Faux Woo-Woo World?  I don’t think so.
Trevarr: [    ]

Oh, right.  Trevarr.  He’s like that.

Sklayne:  Me.  You forgot about me.

Sklayne.  He’s like that, too.

Sedona has to be both the most over-appreciated and under-appreciated place in the world.  Think SEDONA and you get crystals and vortexes, mantras and spiritual retreats.  Because, sure… there’s a lot of that going around.

But drive to Sedona from Flagstaff, and you end up winding through a canyon with dizzying hairpin turns, dropping a couple thousand feet in short order.  Ponderosa pines and scrub oak cling thickly along the red rocks in a stark green and bluff-red contrast, and rushing creek and riparian water habitat thrives below.  It’s alive and it’s stunning and it’s unlike anywhere else you’ve ever been.  Suddenly you look at it all much differently.  You look beyond the woo.

You think, “This is a place where I’d like to sit.  I’d like to spend time.  I’d like to write about.  I’d like to help preserve.”

Sklayne:  Vortexes.  Tasty.

Right.  That’s the thing, isn’t it?  So alluring, the temptation of the woo-woo.   Sometimes I think it shadows the amazing nature of what’s already there.  Because right there in Sedona, the world changes.

Sedona sits at the Mogollon Rim, the profound natural dividing line between the Colorado Plateau and the lower Basin & Range country.  Spend a few winters in the higher northlands, and you know right where the snow line lays:  Above Sedona, it’s chains and closed roads.  Below it, the fog clears out and suddenly you’re driving clear and free.

Above Sedona, the land is all silent volcanoes and cinder fields supporting skiing and ponderosa pines growing thick and deep; the amazing San Francisco Peaks were formed by your classic hot-n-heavy volcano, topped by the classic dome explosion.

Below Sedona, it’s a quick descent through juniper scrub desert to the broad sloping valley bowl of classic hot, hot desert.  Saguaro, prickly pear, cholla spring up, while grasses grow sparser by the moment.  Picture your cowboy hero, crawling along the ground with his tongue hanging out, a rattler coiled up not far away.

And there in Sedona, you have it all, both above and below.  North Sedona is full of canyons, swirling wind-formed rocks, Vultee Arch, and a plethora of stunning trails and views.  As if I could resist taking the reckoning action out into those settings!

Lucia:  I’m pretty sure you could have.  Or warned me to pack hiking shoes.  And, the way things turned out, a bulk pack of sanitary wipes.
Garrie:  Bring it on!  I’ve got ghostie vibes to hike out.
Sklayne:  Squirrels!  Tasteee!
Trevarr: [   ]

South of Sedona’s main road, the land plunges down into the red rocks–striking red bluffs in formations so distinctive they all have names (Snoopy, Lucy, Chimney Rock, The Mittens, The Cow Pies, the Rabbit Ears….).  It looks like someone turned the Earth’s crust upside down and left us all gazing at the roots of the rock.

Truth is, I enjoy the woo-woo.  The vortexes, both male and female in essence; the crammed, tight little shops along Highway 89.  There you can get crystals, furs, a plethora of T-shirts bearing eagles, wolves, and largely misrepresented Indians, and–if you look in the right place–maybe a badger skull to add to the collection at home.  (Ask me how I know.)   Geodes, vortex tours,  and any little thing with a whiff of New Age magic…this is the place!  It’s all worth a little wallow.

Sklayne:  Tingles!

But for me, the rich treasure of the area comes in the land, which carries a woo-woo all of its own–just because it is.  And in the end, even if it was crystals and vortexes that tickled my idea generator, it was the land that drew me, and which helped drive this story.  What the land and its creatures deserve.

Lucia:  Let’s just sit on Sterling Ridge and look down on the pass for a while.
Garrie:  Non-ethereal woo-woo.  Want me some of this.
Trevarr:  *just happens to be standing close to Garrie*

…Sklayne:  When can I eat it?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

first appeared more or less in this form, in the Tor newsletter