writing rengeek magpie mind

July 2014



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December 18th, 2008

always winter

would you die of grieving when I leave?

Still going pretty easy on my hand, but I did two new unrated routes on the slab last night (I like smearing. I'm good at smearing) and resent two old routes and a problem. Felt like I had the juice to do another one, but five is a pretty good night, the gym was crowded, and I wanted to come home and watch Criminal Minds. (Yes, I know I'm behind on summaries. The next new ep isn't until the middle of January. I'll catch up. I seem to be writing this book right now, and don't have the ~3 hours per episode it takes me to do it properly.)

Seems like the snowpocalypse is scheduled for tomorrow and Sunday, so I am going to try to eat something and get out for a run in a minute here, since I suspect trying to drive to yoga class tomorrow morning with rush hour +snow would be pretty dumb. Otoh, maybe I can get out in the park before it gets too heavy.

Then come home and peck away at TStM until it's time for archery.

I got through the first revision pass last night/this morning around 2:30 am. So it's just one more pass through before I can hand it off to arcaedia and casacorona, and see what they see. I can tell that this is one of the books I learned to write while writing, because the third part needed much less work than the first two parts. Mostly, vacuuming out reflexive sentimentality. That stuff will creep in. The first two parts still need some structural work, especially since it's such a loosely structured novel. I can see precursor elements to The Stratford Man in here. A lot of time passes.

Also, when I wrote this, I was still firmy in the grip of the unnecessary prepositional phrase and direct article, and there was a good deal of surgical removal of linguistic scaffolding.

Oh, I cut so many words yesterday. Three whole scenes, around twenty pages, because I decided how to do those things better in the context of the narrative. Well, I still have to figure out how to do one of them, but the way I was trying to do it just wasn't working. Wolf boy, why must you be such a problem child?

Okay, now for food and exercise.

254.3 miles to Rauros. We're still paddling down a broad river under a gray sky.
writing edda of burdens fenris wolf

I think this is sort of a grand slam...

...except Kirkus, of course, because Kirkus hates everybody

Ragnarok has come and gone, and with it, the destruction of the world--except for the failed Valkyrie Muire and her valraven, Kasimir, the winged steed of the Valkyrie.  Out of their survival arises a new world, in which magic and technology combine to create something new yet achingly familiar.  Two thousand years pass, and the world is again dying, with one city remaining, ruled by the Technomancer.  Muire dwells in the last city, awaiting her doom, for she has caught sight of Mingan the Wolf, on the hunt for the first time since the Last Battle.  Bear's (A Companion to Wolves with Sarah Monette) ability to create breathtaking variations on ancient themes and make them new and brilliant is, perhaps, unparalleled in the genre.  Her lyrical style and heroically flawed characters make this a priority purchase for most libraries.  Highly recommended.

--All the Windwracked Stars, Library Journal starred review
criminal minds bad shirt brigade

in the ashes i have kept the home fires

It's been drawn to my attention that we need another spoiler thread.

Here is your spoiler thread.

If you want to comment on or ask questions about anything spoilery or otherwise about my work, this would be the place. Please just put a title on your comment mentioning what it might be spoilery for, so people can skip comment threads they would prefer not to read.
phil ochs troubador

it's all done with mirrors. have no fear.

Via oursin, medical myths exploded:

The team went on to show that contrary to popular belief, the Christmas plant poinsettia with it blood-red leaves is not toxic, and that suicides do not rise over the holiday period.
In other news, +700 words this morning and afternoon to complete one of the missing scenes. Which turned out sort of Laura Ingalls Wilder, hopefully in a good way. Now, I think I get to chill out a little before going out to get my hair cut, but cat litter and food, and then arch. At which I will suck, because I haven't shot a bow in something like a month and a half.
lion in winter dead

Farewell to the original #1.

Majel Barrett Roddenberry has died.

Thank you, ma'am.
comics bone stupid stupid rat creatures

at night i pray and clean my gun

I am irritated that both "breast" and "bosom" have come to euphemistically mean tits. Because the word I want in this scene is "bosom," as in "bared his bosom," of a male character.

And I can't use it because squeamish people have fucked up my language.

Also, I have cut a sex scene with some exposition in it, and now I need to find another sex scene to put the expo into, thus violating the rule I formulated when I first drafted this book. To wit: "Never put the exposition in the homoerotic kissing scene, because nobody will remember it later."