Yeah, I suck.
So I think I'm in a sufficiently centered emotional space where I'm just going to make a solemn pact with myself to read the word "slash," if it is applied to Carnival, as "rutabaga." Because really, I've gotten innured to just about everything else the internets have to say about my work, I can handle being inaccurately tagged as a derivative queer romance writer. Hmm. Or perhaps I should say, a writer of derivative queer romances?
None of these contain any rutabagas.
Some of them contain spoilers.
A cache link to an LKH forum post on Carnival. (this one spoilers many things. *g*)
The Mysterious Galaxy holiday newsletter says some nice things about both Carnival and The Chains That You Refuse.
houseboatonstyx is proof that my editors' continuing efforts to teach me to write books with an A plot that makes sense if you read it in front of the TV are, in fact, bearing fruit. Woot! Lookit that, I can learn.
Synchronistically, some discussion of the opening sentence of Carnival:
Alternative Reality Webzine here.
Lis Riba over here. Also, Lis could use some he'p, if you are or know a Windows geek.
An itty bitty nice thing about TCTYR over here. And she liked the Schrodinger story. Huzzah! Nobody ever gets the Schrodinger story.
And Fantasybookspot reviews Hammered.
See what I mean about letting them pile up?
Speaking of reviews, I just read the first book in desperance's Selling Water By The River series. And I'm starting the second one, which in your case you probably have not yet got. In any case, fabulous prose, bright reversals, intriguing characters. I begin to identify why people sometimes feel I kick them into the middle of things, though, because I would have started this book about fifty pages from the end....
Which didn't limit my enjoyment, because Chaz is a good enough writer that I'll follow along for the joy of the words sloshing around. And it's all got that stately enjoyable worldbuildy pace I just cannot write to, so I admire it when other people (like truepenny) can. You know, that immersive wandering-the-bazaar worldbuilding thing. It's just one of those things you start doing when you learn to write. You start playing the "how would I have told this story?" game.
And when you are new and shiny and wet-behind-the-ears, you mistakenly think that what you are seeing is how you would have told the story better. But that's not quite right, and after a few years and a million words or so, you realize that what your brain is doing is figuring out ways to tell the story different. Different =/= better.
I'm actually experimenting with my own reading protocols currently, because I mean to write my next Storytellersunplugged.com column on reading protocols and how they shift as one learns to write. That's something to do next week too.
I'm really in love with this icon. It's almost as much micro-flash-fictiony goodness as the "So he died" one.
Funny thing is, I tend to use my favorites really sparingly, as if I were saving them for special occasions. Isn't that odd?