Category Archives: Writing

In Which I Confess My Lack of Love for the Pen

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WRITING 02I’m forever without a pen. The ink kind. I almost never seem to be carrying one when I need it. I have read that is simply not acceptable. Writers should always carry pens. What if inspiration suddenly hits? What if you need to make notes on a scene? What if…?

If inspiration really hits, I’ll remember it long enough to get to my keyboard. If I need to make notes about a scene, I make them in my head and likewise remember them long enough to get to a keyboard. If I don’t remember, then they’re better off forgotten if they’re so forgettable in the first place. I’ve made notes before, when I was away from the computer for days on end. Then when I got back I tried to read said notes. Carol looks over my shoulder. “Can you read that?” Me: “No, but I vaguely remember what it was about.”

I do have lousy penmanship, especially when the pen is trying to keep up with what my brain is telling me, and failing miserably. Which may be why I just don’t associate an ink pen or even a pencil with writing and never really have–it was only after I learned how to type that I was able to get serious about writing in the first place. So I don’t feel the need to carry an ink pen around. Which means, of course, that I never have one when I need one. Which is mostly to mark “not at this address” to the letters addressed to the student who had this PO box before I did, has been out of school for, oh, 10 years now, and still has mail being sent to this box.

I know pens are useful. I even know that there are still writers who compose in long hand and couldn’t work any other way. I do know that. I just don’t understand it. When I’m stalled and mulling, a pen is useless, and when I’m on fire, it can’t keep up. Yet I do really like and appreciate a fine pen. They look classy on a desk. Just don’t ask me to write with the darn thing.

Power’s Shadow: Chapter 13, Part 1

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Chapter 13—Well Begun, Half Undone

“I’ve never been a monster, but I’ve had friends who were considered such. I don’t necessarily disagree with the assessment and nor would they, but I’ve always found that, in the body of every monster, there always beats a human heart.” – Seb of the Alerian Order

“All is prepared,” Prince Dolan said when he met Marta and Sela at the north gate of the city. Bonetapper rode serenely on Marta’s shoulder.

“All” appeared to be something of an understatement. There were two covered wagons packed to the brim, three horsemen aside from Prince Dolan himself, plus extra mounts and a pack train of four other horses led by another man.

“This seems a bit much,” Sela, now again dressed in her mailshirt and padded gambeson rather than court dress, said as she surveyed the caravan.

“Does it? Let me see…yes. As the escort is not at my discretion, that makes three armed men to equip and feed, plus the attendant to handle the pack horses who carry the extra fodder, plus our own supplies, plus a generous cargo of gifts for the monastery, as the monks are not likely to look kindly on our intrusion without the appropriate offerings—“

Sela held up her hand. “Enough. I see your point, Highness. I’m just used to traveling lighter.”

“For some journeys, ‘lighter’ does not mean ‘better.’ I judge this to be one such. If events prove me incorrect, please feel free to remind me of the fact.”

“I will take that under advisement,” Sela said, smiling.

“Lady Marta, I hate to ask, but I understand you can drive a wagon. Would you be willing to handle one of these? The escort and the mule train attendant will take turns manning the others.”

“Hmmm? Oh, certainly. I’d rather ride in the wagon anyway.”

“Pardon my saying, Lady, but you appear distracted this morning,” Prince Dolan said.

“Something’s on my mind,” Marta said. “But it won’t prevent me from keeping the wagon on the road.”

“Splendid. We’re ready then. Let’s get going.” Prince Dolan strode over to where one of the escorts held his mount and he climbed into the saddle.

“I’ll ride with you, Lady Marta. If you don’t mind. Never had the knack of horses,” Sela said.

“As you wish,” Marta said. “Though I’m sure Prince Dolan would be glad to instruct you.”

Sela blushed a little, and shook her head. “I do wish you wouldn’t do that.”

Marta frowned. “What did I do?”

Sela just sighed. “Never mind. Let’s be off.” Continue reading →

In Which We Make Mistakes

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WRITING 02A couple of days ago I got an email from Rich Horton, editor of The Year’s Best Science Fiction and Fantasy 2015, pointing out that I’d made a slight error in a previous post when I said it was the first time I’d made it into one of his year’s best compilations. Quite true. I did have stories in his 2005 and 2007 books, but in my defense I’ll say that I wasn’t completely wrong, either. This is the first time I’ve been included in one of his combined sf & fantasy editions, since for many years the fantasy and sf volumes were separate. The two previous times I’d been reprinted by Rich were in his exclusively fantasy volumes. Yet I did misspeak (mistype?) and Rich was right to bring that to my attention.

Just as it was right for the reader yesterday to point out I’d included a physical impossibility in one of my scenes from Power’s Shadow. That’s also the reason I was hesitant about this experiment in the first place. See, this is the first time I’ve let anyone other than First Reader see one of my rough drafts, and there are good and solid reasons for that. What the reader has a right to expect when they pick up one of my books is that I’m not going to waste their time with sloppy work. Yet here’s the thing—this is a first draft. Almost by definition it’s going to be a little ragged around the edges. First drafts are the perfect place for mistakes, and don’t they know it. They show up and settle in with deep sighs of contentment. First drafts are made for them. Or as I’ve pointed out in the writer’s groups I’ve belonged to and elsewhere when a colleague was complaining that they get bogged down in this or that piece of minutiae when trying to get a project done, here is your mantra:

“It is not the job of a first draft to be perfect. It is the job of a first draft to get DONE.” Continue reading →

Blatant Commercial – Hereafter, and After

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Hereafter, and After2Hereafter, and After

 

 

 

 

 

This is a heads up for anyone who might be interested. If not, feel free to ignore, as I’m sure you would. For the next few days, my afterlife (?) novella Hereafter, and After, will be avalable on Kindle for 99 cents, then it’s back to the regular price of $2.99.

The image on the right is of the original hardcover chapbook issued by PS Publishing some years ago and long since sold out. The image on the left is my cover redesign. I probably should have used the original image since its long been in the public domain, but I felt like a change. That could have been a mistake but, if so, it is my own. The novella itself remains a favorite of mine, so much so that I’ve resisted the urge to expand it to novel length. Some things are just best the way they are. Besides, it’s only Amazon review says it would be a “decent 3 star short story if it was cheaper.” Now it is. No excuses.

“When a man carelessly steps in front of a speeding garbage truck, that’s usually the end of his story. For Jake Hallman, that’s just the beginning. He awakens on a metaphorical stretch of the Afterlife called the Golden Road, where the angel Brendan comes to escort him to Heaven. But Jake isn’t having any:

“Heaven sounds like a good thing in theory, but what is it really? What will I do there? Can I leave if I don’t like it? Under what circumstances? Can you force me to go?”

Brendan scratched his head. “I don’t think this has come up before.”

With that simple exchange Jake becomes one of the rarest and most valuable commodities in the Afterlife — a free soul. What’s a free soul to do? That is, if he wants to remain that way?

If you’re Jake Hallman you team up with a disgruntled ex-valkyrie named Freya and hit the Golden Road, the mystic path that links the Heavens and Hells of every mythos, plus a few places even the gods forgot. The unlikely pair join forces on a quest to discover if there really is any place in the cosmos where a spirit can be truly free.”

Thing One and Thing Two

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Time for another update, since things have happened. Things don’t always happen, you know. It’s that whole “Feast or Famine” situation I’ve mentioned before. Most days the only update would be, “Wrote XXXX number of words today. Can’t think straight. It all looks like garbage right now.” I mean, can you imagine 360 blog posts exactly like that, with maybe five about something else? No one would read that. Heck, *I* wouldn’t read that.

Ahem. Getting off course a little bit. The things: First of all Rich Horton has picked up “The Manor of Lost Time” from Beneath Ceaseless Skies #150 for his Year’s Best Science Fiction & Fantasy 2015. This will be the first time I’ve had work in one of Rich’s YBs, so I’m pleased.

The other thing goes a little beyond a reprint fee and an ego boost: Both books in the Yamada Monogatari series, Demon Hunter and To Break the Demon Gate are “Out of Stock.” Now, this does not mean that there are none left. Amazon and B&N still have a few of Demon Hunter and a few more of To Break the Demon Gate, but the book’s distributor does not have any more. Which means that the distributor cannot fulfill new orders and there is a backlog of orders waiting, especially with the second book. As a result, TBTDG is going back to press for an extra 1500 copies, which brings the total run up to 4500. Bear in mind, Prime Books is a relatively small publisher, so this is a big deal. It’s even possible that DH will get a reprint as well, though that has not been determined.

Now it’s likely that the next in the series, The War God’s Son, will get a larger initial run. I’m happy, the publisher is happy (astonished, but happy), though with larger runs comes larger expectations. We’ll see how it goes, but for now at least it’s a Good Thing.