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bear by san

March 2017

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bear by san

She gets a long letter. Sends back a postcard. Times are hard.

I'm feeling pretty chipper about finishing the draft of the Tindalosi New Yorker story. It's the first short story I've finished since the General Goldfish story, back in... October or something? A good long while, in any case.

I've noticed something recently. My short stories, these days, take about as much gestation as a novel. It's kind of scary. I must be packing in the subtext more tightly than I used to, or something.

Actually, the novels are taking longer too. Some of it is the line-edit-as-I-go thing, which gets me tighter prose but does preclude those 5K days I used to get now and again. And some of it is that more complicated books write more slowly, in general--or at least they do for me.

Ah well. As long as I can keep to two a year, I'm golden.

And now I'm back on vacation until May or a book sale, whichever comes first. *dives into the Sheffield collection with guilt-free glee*

This is your spider. This is your spider on drugs.

Get me another double espresso, stat! (Hmm. This explains my plotting style)

Sarah Weinman on Serial Killers and Her --especially interesting reading for those of us who have had the forensics bug, more or less.

Charlie Stross on how he writes, but not why.

John Scalzi on why he writes, but not how.

Comments

whoa, dude. two a year? *dies* *slow*

my latest is taking forever, and I'm scared it's going to take over a year. It just keeps getting bigger. How do you know when to stop growing a novel and start reining it in?

(oh, and yay james taylor!)
How do you know when to stop growing a novel and start reining it in?

Um. I just, um, do. I mean, when I have the book in my head at the beginning, I know about how long it's likely to be. So I spend a third of that space setting up dominos, and a third of that space lining them up right in pretty patterns, and then I knock them over and record the fall.

*bang*

That's part of what I mean when I say books have shapes in my head. That shape, in part, dictates the structure, and the structure becomes a scaffolding or armature that holds up the shape.=

Damn, I can't explain this part. It's visceral.