In 2002, I hadn't started keeping a blog until April. It was over at blogger.
[ Tuesday, April 23, 2002 ]
Well, The Sea thy Mistress is on post-first-draft hiatus while my brain replenishes, and All the Windwracked Stars is on pre-final-draft hiatus while I wait for my final readers to finish with the tearing it open. There are five stories and one poem out, soon to be six when "High Iron" gets off the crit list and into the envelope, and I am planning my Ceremonial Week Off.
If only I knew where I was going to be living in ten days, I might find this more relaxing. Ah well, trust in one's catlike ability to land in one's feet and anticipate the possibility of a cross-country jaunt with a blue merle Great Dane in a 13-year-old Chevy pickup truck with no radio, carrying a tape recorder on my knee to document my observations.
Actually, it DOES sound kind of nice, doesn't it?
Look out, Peter Beagle. "I see by my outfit, what I am a cowboy...."
Good news on Sea--first reader's response to the ending is positive so far, although I did lose a few in the bushes.
Suspect that I'll be losing people in the bushes for the rest of my writing career. The good news is that this gives me time to reread The Summer Tree and start on Warchild and The Ill-Made Mute.
Also good news: apparently there's a market for literary angel smut with Norse overtones in the 25-75 female readership demographic. Are you paying attention, publishers and agents? I've identified a need.
Note to aspiring writers: do not try to mainline exposition into the homoerotic kissing scene, none of your readers will remember it three pages later.
Bad news on Sea: still too short. 73,000 words. Course, it might help if it had some setting [alt/tab/INSERT SETTING] but I remain a child of the jumpcut generation, intrinsically opposed to transitions. Being an essentially lazy writer, I refuse to write anything that I would only skip over while I was reading the book anyway.
Eh, it'll grow. They always do.
Oh, and to prove that I really do channel my characters: Cathoair refuses to give up his deathgrip on my stereo. Current choice: "I'm Burning for You," Blue Öyster Cult:
" Burn out the day/burn out the night/I see no reason to put up a fight./I'm living for giving the Devil his due:/ I'm burning, I'm burning, I'm burning for you."
At least we seem to have gotten him past the unfortunate Eurotrash fixation, although that Roxette song is still haunting the back pathways of my brain.
Still no idea what I'm going to do with "The Song is the Road, the Road is the Song." I know it's a short story about songlines, whalesongs, space aliens and the Dreamtime. Characters, plot, and setting? Who needs 'em... But that's okay, because I'm on vacation. I'm between drafts! I can just.... hang out online, waste time, catch up on crits, and read, glorious read.
Somebody's words other than mine.
In 2003, I didn't post on February 28th, but here's what I said on March 1st and here's what I said on February 27th.
Not very interesting, alas.