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Category: Writing

Nominatory

Hugo nominations are open! I’m not gonna do one of those “Here’s my eligible stuff!” lists because, you know, I already got a Hugo, so I don’t really worry about it anymore. (Very liberating.) And the time I got one? I didn’t do a thing to promote my story or encourage people to nominate me or anything. (I cast no aspersions on those who do indulge in such efforts, but they never did me any good, so I excuse myself.)

But because getting a Hugo is awesome, I encourage you (if you’re eligible) to go nominate works you love, so other people can have that awesome feeling too. (But don’t nominate anyone born after 1975; I enjoy my weird distinction of being the only person born after 1975 to win a fiction Hugo. At least, as far as I know I still am. It’s a distinction that’s destined to fall, of course, and soon, I would imagine, looking at some of these amazing new writers coming along…)

Christmas Stories

Are you unable to cope with the fact that Xmas is over? I can help you prolong that holiday feeling. Or something.

My story “Rangifer Volans: A Very Cryptozoological Christmas” is up at the Drabblecast. (Along with a Lovecraftian version of “Twas the Night Before Christmas” and an excellent flash piece by Mur Lafferty, “Zuzu’s Bell” — she worked wonders with exactly 100 words.)

If you missed it last week, you should know Podcastle did an amazingly good audio version of “The Christmas Mummy” by me and Heather Shaw, read by Rish Outfield.

Though of course, my own favorite SFnal Xmas story is still and always Greg van Eekhout’s “In the Late December”. (Also available in audio form.)

Listen, and/or read, and recapture some glimmer of that holiday feeling before 2010 leaves us forever and always.

100…ish

I sold my 100th story! (Including collaborations, audio originals, stories original to my own collections, and a couple of pieces self-published in Christmas chapbooks — but still! 100!)

Initially I thought I’d only sold 99, then realized I’d left a story off my bibliography and declared my story “Rangifer Volans: A Very Cryptozoological Christmas” (upcoming on Drabblecast for the holidays) as #100.

But then I discovered that I’d forgotten to put another story on my bibliography, so my 100th story was actually either “Luminous” or “D is for De Gustibus”, both flash pieces sold to Podcastle on the same day. So I’ve actually got 101 stories published or pending. Unless I forgot another one on my bibliography. Which is admittedly possible. Oh well. There was an arbitrary numerical milestone in there somewhere.

It only occurred to me to count at all because I was looking at The Complete Stories of J.G. Ballard and noticed that it had only 98 stories. But I can admit that Ballard had, shall we say, a rather better ratio of quality to quantity than I do.

The other realization I had is that I’ve got another collection’s worth of stories — even excluding flash, Marla Mason stories (I’m saving those for a dedicated collection someday), and a few minor pieces. I may start putting together a story collection manuscript to shop around in the coming months, though I’d want to write a substantial original piece for it, so it won’t happen soon. I’m leaning toward Antiquities and Tangibles: Stories as a title, after a novelette I have upcoming in Subterranean. I do love assembling collections.

The Deep Woods

I managed to sneak in some writing time here and there yesterday, in among Toddler Story Hour and putting puzzles together and taking walks and doing other kid-centric activities. I finished my draft of The Deep Woods, my middle grade contemporary fantasy. It’s 44,000 words, and I wrote it in 18 days. (And I would have been done in an even two weeks if I hadn’t taken some days off from writing, mostly due to Halloween festivities and my kid’s birthday.)

Of course, it needs some revising — I already snipped out a minor subplot that seemed neat but ultimately went nowhere, and some of the scenes are little more than streams of unattributed dialogue — but I think it’s structurally sound. I hope to have it revised and in good shape by Thanksgiving.

I’m so glad I found time to squeeze in a fun exciting personal project in between contract jobs and tie-in work.

But, as always, now that I’ve finished writing a novel, I find myself wondering… what do I do with my evenings and weekends now? (Actually, the answer is simple: generate some paying work. Maybe some short stories…)

Xeno’s Paragraph

My novel The Deep Woods is nearing the end — I’ve written about 39,000 words since starting the project on October 23. My initial goal was to have a draft done by yesterday, but I took three days off last week when life intervened (I got busy cleaning and cooking for the kid’s birthday party, among other things), so I fell a bit behind. I could finish today, or possibly tomorrow. Though the end keeps receding even as I approach, which puts me in mind of Xeno’s Paradoxes of motion — except in this case, it’s Xeno’s Paragraph. I always have to write a few more paragraphs, and if that’s the case, how can I ever reach the end?

***

I sorta got the okay to announce the nature of the last project I was working on (the one I called the Snake book): I wrote it for Wizards of the Coast. They’d prefer I not say anything about the exact nature of the book — my editor hasn’t even read it yet — but if you know the sort of things they publish, you can probably make an educated guess. My 14-year-old self would be delighted; and my nearly 34-year-old self enjoyed it a lot too.

***

My son had a great birthday weekend. We had a party on Saturday with many of his friends, and cupcakes, and banana/chocolate chip muffins, and even some gluten-free vegan no-soy corn muffins I made for a couple of guests with dietary restrictions. The kids ran around, the adults chatted, and a good time was had by all. On Sunday we put together his big gift, a play kitchen with lots of cabinets that open — he aspires to be a tiny chef, so that delights him. On his actual birthday Monday we had to take him to preschool, but they celebrated for him there. When we picked him up he was wearing a paper crown and saying, matter-of-factly, “I king.” We gave him a couple of last presents, and a final celebratory cupcake, and made him the dinner of his choice: hot dogs. We think we’ll pool his birthday money and take him to pick out a tricycle, which he’s been wanting. Hard to believe he’s already three.

Mostly Treats

Trick-or-treating with the kid was great fun. We went to Piedmont Ave. on Saturday in the rain for daytime trick-or-treating and bouncehouse fun, and on Hallowe’en proper we went to Russell Street in Berkeley, which goes all-out for the holiday. Here’s a picture of River in his monkey costume with me. I’m a druid, or something. I dunno. I just threw on a cloak and made a wand with some fake foliage and the snapped-off handle of a toy golf club.

***

Last night I had a dream where I was talking to a fifty-something car salesman (though later he was a postal worker), who was complaining about how miserable he was: he hated his job, his house, his city, and his whole life. So I told him to change his life, if he didn’t like it — what was he waiting for? To get even older first? He was resistant, and sneered at me, and basically said, “I don’t see you changing your life.”

And in the dream I replied, “Why would I change my life? I get paid to write books, I have a great kid, a hot wife, I love my apartment and my neighborhood, and I even like my day job. My life is already where I want it to be.”

I woke up thinking, Well, yeah, okay. A message from my unconscious mind to quit my bitching? At the very least, it was a reminder that, despite the fact that I have some problems, most of the important things are exactly how I’d wish them to be. So I’m in a better mood this morning than I have been for ages.

***

I’m about 26,000 words into my new kid novel, which I’m calling The Deep Woods for now. More than halfway done! I just dealt a rather crushing blow to my characters, which they’ll spend the rest of the novel coping with. I should finish in a week or ten days. I’m having great fun.

***

Good luck to all you NaNoWriMoers. I’m not doing NaNo — as I mentioned, I’m halfway through a book, and after I finish that, I’ll probably be lazy for a week or two — but I wish you well. It’s fun to throw yourself into a project, isn’t it?

***

No toddler story hour at the library today, as the space has been taken over for election day polling, so I’ll have to entertain the boy some other way. The weather’s nice, so it’ll probably be a long morning of parks, parks, parks. Not such a bad life at all.

Pumpkin Hallowe’en

My story “Shark’s Teeth”, a Marla Mason story which immediately follows the events of Broken Mirrors (but stands alone), will appear in a future edition of Daily Science Fiction. Yay! (I did a chapbook version of this story for some people who donated to the Broken Mirrors serial, but I wanted more than 75 people to read it, so I’m glad it will be made generally available.) Subscribe to DSF (it’s free) so you can read it right there in your very own e-mail.

My story “From Around Here” will, I’m told, be translated for publication in major Japanese SF magazine Hayakawa SF in the future. (Interestingly, the main character of that story has a role to play in my 6th Marla Mason novel, which I’m hoping to write next year.)

I’m now about 17,000 words into the new kid’s fantasy novel I started last weekend. I’m having such a wonderful time. I’ve written so much death and tragedy and misery in recent months, it’s nice to write a fun adventure. (Though bad stuff still happens — in fact, my characters are about to suffer a particularly devastating setback, which will set up for the back half of the book.) But mostly the book is dedicated to winning by running and thinking faster than the people out to hurt you, and that’s what life is all about.

I’m also having lots of those wonderful writerly experiences, where a throwaway line near the beginning turns out to be the perfect solution to an unexpected problem later in the book. And I keep stumbling over things in my research that are absolutely perfect for stuff I want to do in the book. Like, spooky perfect. Stephen King says sometimes writing can be less like creating and more like excavating something that already exists — that’s how I feel now. Like I’m meant to be writing this book. (And those who know me know I don’t believe I was meant to do anything; there is no fate or destiny — hell, some days I’m dubious about the existence of cause-and-effect, too.) Seems like a good sign. Then again, I felt the same way about The Nex, and nobody wanted to publish that, so who knows?

In life news: It’s nearly Hallowe’en! (Or “Pumpkin Halloween!” as my son calls it.) Pumpkins will be carved. We’ll take the kid trick-or-treating in his monkey costume. I’ll read my wife a scary story. (I usually read Glen Hirshberg’s “Mr. Dark’s Carnival”, but this year I’m thinking maybe “The Crawl” by Stephen Laws — not strictly a Hallowe’en story, but it does have a scarecrow in it, sort of.) Should be great fun.

Reasons to be *****ful

I have reasons to be stressful, but I’m trying to overcome them. Or, at least, my response to them. Some things are beyond my control, but I’m also screwing up things that are within my control, which is counter-productive, to say the least.

For instance, my toddler’s insane screaming refusal to go to bed — which has become traditional over the past few weeks, after years of him being a relatively unproblematic sleeper. My wife talked to a friend about coping strategies for this behavior (since our strategy of threats, bribery, bargaining, exhausted begging, etc. wasn’t really working), and we decided to try an incredibly calm approach. When he gets up, we just silently take his hand and lead him back to bed, put a blanket over him, and walk away. Don’t engage, don’t give him the feedback he’s looking for — which is any feedback at all.

He got up seven times, but after the seventh time, he stayed in bed, and it took much less time than usual to go from “It’s bedtime!” to actual sleep.

So I’m trying to be more relaxed about kid stuff in general. In the grand scheme of things, potty accidents are no big deal. Dirty hands can get washed. Usually when he does crazy break-the-world stuff, he’s just feeling lonely and needy, and giving him a little attention will calm him down. And when he’s truly crazy tantruming… well, there’s no rule that says I have to stand there and watch him bang his tiny fists on the carpet. I can wander off until he gets over it.

I’m also trying to eat better, since that’ll improve my energy levels. And I’m generally going to try and roll with the punches instead of allowing myself to be battered and shattered quite so easily. Life is long, and most of my current and seemingly insurmountable problems will fade into irrelevance in weeks or months. So, yeah. Trying to live in the moment AND take the long view. Should be easy!

At the very least, I can remember that I also have reasons to be thankful and cheerful, as well as full of stress.

Goats. Monkeys. The Usual.

We took River to a pumpkin patch over the weekend, which also had a petting zoo and a bounce house. Here’s a picture of River squealing delightedly over a goat. Good times.

I did a story for that Monkeypunk online charity project I mentioned, so you can go read “At the Monkey Party” free right now. (And play “spot the fictional simian!”) If you like it (heck, even if you hate it, or find yourself utterly indifferent), please donate to help provide clean water to people who need it.

Chapter 8 of The Nex is up, with much running, and chasing, and other adventuresome things.

I gave in to a whim and started writing a new book, a contemporary fantasy adventure for kids. I don’t have a ton of time to work on a novel, since I have some other projects with actual deadlines pressing in, and as a result, I’m going to try and get a draft of this done quickly. Managed around 6,000 words over the weekend, and since the whole book will only be 45-50,000 words long, it’s a solid start.

On Sunday, it poured rain endlessly in an enchanting patter patter patter down the windows. Fall has come to the Bay Area. I welcome it… though in three months I’ll be begging for the sun to return, I’m sure.

Lake Monkey

How exotic and unfamiliar: I seem to have a moment to catch my breath.

I joked on twitter recently about doing an anthology called Monkeypunk collecting simian SF stories (of which there are many). Now there’s going to be an online monkeypunk anthology, running simian stories to support charity: water, which brings drinking water to developing countries. Send ’em your monkey stories! I’m gonna try to do something for them myself.

My story A Lake of Spaces is up at Cast Macabre for your listening pleasure. Warning: contains f-bombs and cowardice.

I finished revising the Snake novel. Now Heather’s reading it, and will tell me if I missed anything. If so, I’ll fix it. If not, I’ll send it off to the editor in a week or so. Because I finished that book, and because I’m waiting for feedback on an extensive outline from another editor, I’m temporarily between big projects, which is leaving me feeling weirdly adrift and with way too much free time. Why, I’ve gone to see movies this week! One movie, anyway. The Social Network. I don’t know or much care how closely it hews to reality, but I thought the writing was sharp, the characters interesting (if almost none entirely sympathetic), and the use of unreliable narration with the frame story was very clever. (The entire movie is composed of flashbacks, with people relating stories from two separate “present” moments at legal depositions, and since characters in the “presents” openly disagree with and contradict some of those flashbacks, I think it’s fair to say nothing onscreen in the “past” is meant to be particularly reliable.)

I also watched some horror vignettes and old Alfred Hitchcock Presents episodes and forgettable action flicks via the wonder of streaming Netflix. But I’m getting itchy to work again, and may have to commit short fiction soon.

My kid is doing wonderfully. He’s taken to wearing his lion costume from last Halloween around the house, like it’s a smoking jacket or something. It’s too small for him — the “feet” reach halfway down his shins — but super cute nonetheless. He’s chosen to be a monkey this year (the first time he’s really had a say in the matter). In past years he’s been a caterpillar and a lion, so we’re continuing with our animal (perhaps even jungle?) theme.

I can’t remember if I mentioned that our cat Marzi (named after the protag of Rangergirl, not vice-versa) was missing, but she’s been found, holed up in the neighbor’s shed, so that’s one potential tragedy averted.

We went to press at work this week, so I didn’t get my usual Tuesday off — I’m home today instead. So it’s time to finish my coffee, shower, and load up the kid for an epic journey to Trader Joe’s, the playground, and the hospital to get his new glasses. The life of a globetrotting fantasist like myself is one of unending excitement.