November 22nd, 2011

me at wfc

i stand with the sons of cain

At WFC, immediately after the banquet, scott_lynch and I were interviewed by Adventures in Sci Fi Publishing, and now that interview is live on their Very Special World Fantasy Convention episode (#152). We're at ~22:30, being kind of obnoxiously cute.


(The dress in the icon is the one referenced in the interview.)


(photo credit: Shelly Rae Clift)




Speaking of very special episodes, SF Squeecast #6, The Very Special Thanksgiving Episode, is live... and due to Very Special Guest grrm, we've apparently neilwebfailed ourselves. But you can still pick the episode up at the archive site! (We also had some sound problems recording the episode, for which we apologize.)



(This Very Special  Episode of the SF Squeecast was recorded with Squeecast regulars Catherynne M. Valente, Elizabeth Bear, Lynne M. Thomas,  Seanan McGuire, and Paul Cornell.)

In this episode we talked about:

    The film Dark City (shared by Elizabeth Bear)
    The works of author Jack Vance (shared by George R.R. Martin)
    The television mini-series The 10th Kingdom (shared by Seanan McGuire)
    Medea the Sorceress by Diane Wakoski (shared by Catherynne M. Valente)
    The television series The Outer Limits (shared by Paul Cornell)

We also asked George our silly questions.

writing steles burning

the sky is big and my life is small

Another paragraph as she was built.

The bearers were a matched set, bronzed almost as dark as Aezin by the relentless light of the sun.

One of the bearers stood with a canted ankle bronzed dark as Aezin by the relentless light of the sun.


The bearer on the front stood with a canted ankle bronzed dark as Aezin by the relentless light of the sun.


The bearer on the near front quarter stood with a canted ankle. It must have been he who stumbled. Red dust palled them to thighs bronzed dark as Aezin by the relentless light of the sun.


The bearer on the near front quarter stood with a canted ankle. It must have been he who stumbled. Red dust palled them to thighs bronzed dark as Aezin; their sweat had dried too quickly even to leave streaks.


The bearer on the near front quarter stood with a canted ankle. It must have been he who stumbled. Red dust palled them to thighs bronzed dark as old metal; their sweat had dried too quickly to leave streaks.


The bearer on the near front quarter stood with a canted ankle. It must have been he who stumbled. Red dust palled them to thighs bronzed dark as old metal; their sweat had dried too quickly to streak.

The bearer on the near front quarter stood with a canted ankle. It must have been he who stumbled. Red dust palled all of them to thighs bronzed dark as old metal; their sweat had dried too quickly to streak.
iggy pop chairman of the bored

blame it on my a.d.d. baby

Oh, I crack me up.

I have reached the point in working on Shattered Pillars where nothing else holds my attention, but I am still avoidant and catwaxy and can't focus on it for more than half an hour at a time, and it often takes three or five tries to get myself into a scene and writing it.

Still, I'm chipping away. Interesting things are happening, and plot development, and character stuff. Skipped parts of two scenes (I know what the scenes do in terms of structure, but what actually happens and changes in them is still an open question.)

Eventually, this thing has to gather up some momentum and start rolling downhill, crushing all obstacles, right? Although I'm already into that part where I start nervously looking at the remaining page count and how much more stuff I have to fit in... and rocking worriedly on my seat bones.

You'd think the chipping chipping chipping and the head full of ideas would be mutually exclusive, but they're not. Instead it's painstaking, like drystone work, getting these odd shaped bits to fit in the tightest and most durable and shapely fashion.

Ah well. It gets there when it gets there.