Musical Squid

October 3

"Very occasionally, if you really pay attention, life doesn't suck." Joss Whedon, from the liner notes to the "cast album" for "Once More, with Feeling." Which is the soundtrack to the Buffy musical, if you didn't know -- we bought the actual soundtrack, which is better than the burned-off-the-'net version we had before, because the sound is cleaner, and there are self-consciously pompous liner notes. La. I'm listening to it now. And, yeah, life doesn't suck, sometimes.

So, the past couple of days. I haven't written a blessed thing, really; just some vague scribblings. I tried valiantly yesterday, but to no avail. I spent much of today and this evening thinking about why that is, and I came to a conclusion: I want to write something that isn't heavy. The novel I just finished isn't all dense-German-philosophy kind of heavy, but it is about serious emotional stuff, relationships and art and whatnot... and all the openings I wrote, and the Glass story I started at the beginning of this dare, are about heavy shit; love, sacrifice, disillusionment, redemption, making your way in a senselessly cruel world, etc. I want to write them (well, 3 out of 5 of them, at least), but I want to do something more fun, first, something with shit blowing up and asses getting kicked and so forth. A more serious note will probably creep into it -- such things generally do -- but I want to start out plot-heavy, with cool characters, nefarious villains, snappy banter, and assorted kinds of firepower.

So I'm either going to write a Marla story (the protag from "Pale Dog" and "Haruspex", both lamentably as-yet-unpublished) or a Mr. Li story (the protag from "Dr. Nefarious" and "Captain Fantasy", one published and one soon-to-be). I love both of them; I just have to decide if I'm in a sorcererpunk mood or a comic-book mood. I actually have half-formed story ideas for both characters, one about the angel of death, one about what happens when secret agents go on vacation. Maybe I'll do the Mr. Li story, since the next novel I plan to write is about Marla...

And maybe once I get some wacky ass-whipping fiction out of my system, I'll be able to write about heavier shit. I just need a change of pace, mostly.

So there's, uum, two-and-a-half weeks left on this story dare. I've got to go to a baby shower this weekend, and at least one, possibly two, parties next weekend, and the weekend after that is writers with drinks... but I think I'll get some stuff done.

More prosaically... I got my contributor's copy of Songs from Dead Singers, and it looks really damn good. I re-read my story, "Melancholy Shore", and I'm actually rather fond of it; it's in a minor key, but I think it's pretty well-crafted, and has some strong moments. Work is kicking my ass for some reason -- it's a nibbled-to-death-by-ducks situation, I feel like I'm running flat-out just to keep up, and every day another dozen little things pile up that have to be taken care of. Actually, it's not that bad; I felt a bit overwhelmed yesterday, but I was more chill today. Mostly it's a question of my perceptions, not so much the actual workload...

Went with Heather to see Secretary last night. Mmm. I'm amazed, and delighted, that this movie got made -- it actually depicts a BDSM relationship in ultimately positive terms, without sacrificing any of the weird complexity inherent in such relationships. It had flaws, sure, especially in pacing, but hell, I can forgive that -- it's a very revolutionary film, though I suspect a lot of people won't realize that, that it'll slip under people's radar... this isn't Dan Akroyd and Rosie O'Donnell in Exit to Eden, y'all; it's the real thing. I don't know how good it is objectively, really, but it's groundbreaking... like the piano-playing chicken; it's doesn't matter if the chicken's any good at playing, it's astonishing that it plays at all.

Heather and I made last night an impromptu date-night, and had a lot of fun; good connecting-with-my-lover time.

I bought some books today -- Evening's Empire by David Herter, which I've been wanting to read for months; Wizard of the Pigeons by Megan Lindholm, which I've been wanting to read for years; one of the Preacher collections, which I read tonight (I've read them all before, but didn't own any of them before now); Redshift, much of which I've read, but now I can read the rest; and Night in the Lonesome October by the late Richard Laymon, because it's s'posed to be good. Yay, good books! I was trying to read The Kappa Child, last year's Tiptree winner, but I couldn't get into it at all... I think the prose was supposed to be literary or something, but I just found it annoying, the characters were shrill and stupid, the italicized interludes were pretentious... just not my kind of book, I suppose.

I suppose that's all, for now. I've got a busy month ahead. I'll keep you posted.

Words written since February 1, 2002: 169,000

Words written since last entry:
250 (Yes. A page. A crappy page. But I will improve.)

Send me a cure for the common care.

Tim Pratt
P.O. Box 13222
Berkeley, CA 94712-4222

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