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Because everyone is doing it, like some kind of meme or something:
Kate finished her breakfast as quickly as possible, hoping she’d be able to get out of the house without yet another replay of the Anxious Conversation.
( The Weaverfields Heir, Paranormal Romance, out on submission)
I curled up on the floor and listened to rats scratching in the darkness high above me. At least, I hoped it was rats.
(Quarter Square, Urban Fantasy WIP)
A jug of strong coffee in my hand and distant church bells on the air: war's a-comin'.
(As-yet-untitled sequel to Quarter Square)
On my one-to-ten scale of Rude Awakenings, a leprechaun standing on my bedside table and urinating loudly into my ear is a definite Nine.
(Rude Awakenings, a short story, stalled because I don't really do shorts, but I love the first line enough to use it as my bio on Twitter)
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I was talking with my crit partner about Quarter Square. In particular, about my MC Joe and the love of his life (of his many lives) Min. She was saying that sometimes this seems more like Min's story than Joe's.
I'm grateful to her for this conversation, because, although I've known this stuff since before I started writing about Joe and Min, this is the first time I've put the big picture into words.
I'm not giving anything away if I explain upfront that QS is about an immortal (Min), her reincarnated lover (Joe) and the werewolf who hunts them through time. That's pretty much the tagline.
I'm big on character growth in this story. I aim to do a fair bit in this novel and a lot of it over the series. Joe starts off bewildered, at the mercy of events (and, to a lesser degree, of strong personalities) and gains power and control increasingly as he moves through the various experiences. Every time he conquers a small mountain he is more capable of tackling the next bigger one, although I hope it won't look as linear as this to the reader.
Joe adores Min and at the beginning is totally in her thrall. She knows this. It's always the same. Her job is to guide and protect him while he learns (re-learns) and gains (regains) his power, until he can resume his natural position as her protector. At that point, they will become equals and joint-leaders of a community.
So, anyway, that's why I start Joe off as more of a follower than a leader, in order to let his character grow visibly in the story.
But my CP's comments have me wondering if Bewildered Joe can hold a reader's attention and affection long enough for him to develop into Strong Joe. Should I beef him up a little at the beginning? Or should I stick with the program for the readers who will stay onboard for strong character growth?
Have you wrestled with this one? How did you play it and how did it turn out?
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I love Maggie's lyrical voice, and her music and artwork are none too shabby! She's created her own trailer for SHIVER. Go see!
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Last Friday was Janette's birthday. A big round number birthday is always a good event in our family, but Janette's serious health concerns since February made this one extra special. Our daughters and their blokes were all here, of course, and friends and neighbours got involved too. Our nuclear family may be small but the love spreads wide.
We started preparing weeks ago, but things really moved into overdrive on Wednesday, when we moved my 'office' from our living room into my new study and let the living room stretch back into its proper size and shape. Furniture/computer/electrical equipment removals weren't enough, of course. At such times and in such circumstances: the presence of women = house cleaning.
Friday was a great day. Janette says it was the happiest birthday she's ever had, and that's more than good enough for me. The feeling lasted all weekend, in fact. We watched a lot of Wimbledon, and received some more visitors, and it was lovely. Bittersweet for me, I admit, because I'm scared about Janette, but very lovely.
She got her surgery date through, btw. 12th August. More pre-surgery procedures and tests before then, but that's a firm date. At last.
So, writing-wise, not a lot happened last week. It was a holiday.
This week, I'm back. Quarter Square is going very well and I'm still enjoying the story, which is always a good sign. I aim to complete this 2nd draft before Janette goes into hospital. |
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I think I mentioned a while back that since November 2007, when #1 daughter and her partner moved back in with us following her back injury, I've been working on the computer in our living room. It's a lovely room, a big open-plan space with a picture window and a beautiful view across our wooded valley. But trying to write in the same space as a big, active, loud family, plus TV and/or music, right next to the landline and only twenty feet away from the front door to the house, has been... difficult.
Hence my occasional crack-of-dawn or middle-of-the-night posts. That's been pretty much the only time when I've been able to write, especially since I've been using voice recognition for my drafting work.
Until today. When #2 daughter moved into her own place a few weeks ago, #3 daughter started decorating #2's newly vacant bedroom. She moved in there last week, leaving the coast clear for me to convert her old bedroom into a study. And here I am, this evening, talking to you from my new workspace.
It's a lovely quiet little room at the back of the house, almost dug into the steep hillside behind us but getting a pleasant glow of afternoon sun. No landline. No family TV (although #1 daughter's #2TV is in here, stored for when they move back out again and need two sets) and a solid wooden door I can close on the hustle and bustle of family life.
Happy David.
:) |
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I've observed a pattern over the past few weeks. I make it through (kind of) from Monday to about Thursday, nursing Janette day and night except for a few hours for my writing each evening. And then, as the girls come home Friday evening to help take the strain, my strength and energy give out on me and it takes me the whole writingless weekend to recover.
It's interesting that I'm managing to write on the days I'm under most pressure. I think that's partly because weekday evenings tend to be very quiet at the moment (while at weekends the house is family-filled), but I guess it's mostly that the tiredness is cumulative. I can work through it on a daily basis, until it all gets too heavy for me - which coincides with the cavalry arriving - and I flop.
I'll use this. I'll stick to my 500-words per evening minimum goal, but only from Monday to Thursday. More will be good, but if that's all I can do then it won't be a failure.
Also: I have a new critique partner, ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) brimfire. We're exchanging single chapters at a time, and only as frequently as we can both manage without feeling pressured. It's working well and I'm enjoying her story. |
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No special reason for showing you these photos, other than that the early morning sun made me smile today... ( and I want to share the happiness. ) |
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After several weeks of frustration (and lots of Gahhhh!-ing) following the failure of the registrar OnlineNic to renew my domain, my site is back online!
This thing of beauty: let me show you.
Happy David. :) |
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Today we're in limbo, waiting for Janette's consultation at 3.15 this afternoon and hoping we will soon see a light at the end of this long tunnel. The best possible scenario (in the absence of a miraculous and instant healing) would be for them to keep her in overnight and perform the surgery tomorrow - and for it to work. The worst scenario would be if her conoloscopy results were to show something scary that would postone or prevent the surgery.
She's in agony today, barely able to walk, curled up on the sofa with This Morning on the telly, crying when the pain breaks through her strong will power. After three months of it we've learned which days to attempt bathing and stuff and which days to forget it. Today is a 'forget it' day, but she'll have to go through it. We'll get her bathed and dressed in a clean nightie in a while, then it'll be a wheelchair through the hospital to the consultant's office.
Meanwhile, I've changed my Twitter background to a Da Vinci theme, similar to the one I use here on LJ. A small thing to distract an anxious mind. |
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Are you frightened of clowns?
I plan to write a couple into my WIP as secondary characters, but I don't get the fear. What's scary about them? Can anyone explain it to me?
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We have new neighbours. They're a frosty couple in their early thirties, I estimate. These are the fourth or fifth occupants in the sixteen years we've lived here, so we're used to people coming and going, but this couple's standoffishness feels very unfriendly. And they park their cars very inconsiderately.
They've started fixing the place up already, which is nice. But I'm uncomfortable about whatever it is they're doing in the back garden.
We put up a high wooden fence a few years ago, which gives me a gorgeous suntrap in one area of our garden with total privacy for nude sunbathing. They're building something in breezeblock just on the other side of this fence, and I fear it's going to be a platform for a deck. This would be understandable, as it'll give them a great view over the wall between our houses and out across the valley. But it'll seriously bugger up my sunbathing.
I've been so looking forward to getting a decent summer this year, too. |
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After three months of nursing Janette full time, I'm trying to get back to work on Quarter Square. She's still on morphine and I'm still nursing her, but most evenings there's a tired hour or two of quiet time when I should be able to do a few hundred words if I push through the fog.
I've signed up to Inkygirl's Challenge...
...and I started this evening with an 839-word re-write of a scene in Chapter 8. It used to be the first love scene, but I'm pushing that back to a later point in the story so I can build up to it better.
I'm not sure whether to call this one Quarter Square's 2nd or 3rd draft, since I wrote a very detailed outline for this novel that I could get away with calling the 1st draft, making the rapid draft I wrote before Janette got ill my 2nd draft, probably. What I'm doing now is re-writing and editing, mostly, although there are two or three chapters that still remain in detailed outline form and I've two pages of ideas for new material that I'll write during this draft.
So this is me, back on the trail and very happy to be here.
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The domain transfer has stalled because Tucows (the international dot com transfer authority) requires an authorisation code from the existing registrar before they will allow a transfer to go ahead - and lo and behold: I can't get an authorisation code from OnlineNic.
123-reg (whose customer service has been wonderful, btw) has contacted Tucows to ask if they will access the OnlineNic system on my behalf to retrieve the code, or if there is some other procedure we have to follow.
I've now heard that other people are having similar troubles with OnlineNic, and it seems a fair guess that the business is failing. Anyone whose domain is still registered with them needs to get the hell out of there.
Edit to add: I've received the auth code from onlinenic. Don't understand why they respond to some emails and leave others unanswered. Anyhow, Tucows can now continue with the transfer process, which they say will take up to 7 days. |
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This has been one of those fast weeks.
Been struggling for two months to renew my domain name (due to expire June 1st) in the face of an automated system that wouldn't accept payment from PayPal or my credit card and a support system that wouldn't reply to any of my several emails of increasing shoutiness. Onlinenic.com sucks. Last weekend I gave up on onlinenic and paid a British registrar (123-reg.co.uk) to transfer the domain to them. Rang them Tuesday to check everything was going okay, and it wasn't. Onlinenic had the domain locked and 123-reg wouldn't be able to effect the transfer until it'd been unlocked. They recommended I contact Tucows, who, apparently, have authority to go in and unlock domains in such circumstances.
Except that suddenly (after what, eight or nine emails from me?) onlinenic decided to open their inbox and do some admin, and they finally responded to my shot into the dark requesting they unlock the thing. Their email was breezily friendly, appeared to be written by someone whose first language isn't English, and, frankly, made me wonder if they're actually running a business over there.
Anyway! The domain is now unlocked and 123-reg can do their thing. Site should be back up in a few days.
Janette's had a bad week. Too much pain for one person to hold. I wish they'd hurry up with her surgery date. I wish she'd let me ring the renal department and chase them up. I wish I could take her pain.
Yesterday was the European Election here. I voted with my heart: Green. It wasn't a protest vote against corruption in our Parliament - I think only determined prosecutions and jail time for all offenders will fix that, not silly protest votes.
Yesterday evening I wrote my first ever flash fiction, for a competition in Litopia. A very dark 900 words. Finished at 1am and loved every minute of it.
Bring on the weekend. The girls will all be busy tomorrow, helping prepare for a family friend's 50th birthday party. But they'll be here Sunday to take the weight for a few hours, so I can recharge ready for another week. |
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The sun is out this weekend and it feels like summer for the first time since about 2006. No, hang on: we had a good week in September 2007, didn't we? Anyhow, it's been a long winter and I'm ready for it to end.
( Behind the curtain... ) |
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To celebrate the forthcoming release of The Cold Kiss of Death (Spellcrackers.com Book 2), Suzanne McLeod is hosting a giveaway competition she calls Getting Furry with Kitty.
Go see!
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It's a mid-teens memory of a tea-break during one of our fledgling rock band rehearsals in a church hall, when I started playing Albatross while the others messed around in the kitchen, and Johnny, who was a gifted guitarist and a very cool kid, picked up someone's bass guitar and played along with me, and the rest of the band and our girlfriends came back out into the hall to listen, and there was a quiet chorus of bloody hells when we finished.
It didn’t change any of our lives, or even our musical direction, but I treasure the memory as one of those 'moment of grace' things and I've been smiling all morning. |
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I've joined the Fair Reading group on Facebook. This is what the group creator, children's author Nicola Morgan says:
What is Fair Reading?
"It's a bit like the idea of Fair Trade. Just as Fair Trade is about allowing a producer to benefit properly, Fair Reading is about allowing authors (and publishers) to earn fairly from their work. When people are enlightened about the consequences of “unfair” reading, they often change their purchasing and borrowing habits. So, here is the message - do spread the word if you agree:
"The premise: author income is increasingly undermined by several factors which threaten the quality and range of future books. The factors are:
• untenably high discounts and promotions, incurring minuscule royalties
• the rise of second-hand selling of good-as-new books, (for example on Amazon Marketplace), so that authors and publishers are bypassed from the earning cycle. Secondhand book-selling has its place, but needs to be kept in its place. And often the books aren't genuinely secondhand.
• abuse of copyright by illegal photocopying or printing
• potentially, abuse of copyright by illegal free downloading of ebooks
"The problem: as author/publisher income falls, authors and publishers become less able to survive by producing writing of depth, quality or innovation. The consequence of cheapening and devaluing books is therefore the diminution of literature’s range. This is “unfair” reading, reading which puts no value on the work of the creator and simply scavenges, greedily and carelessly.
"The conclusion: Fair Reading. Fair Reading means, where possible, buying a book at a fair price that brings reward to the creator and protects the value of the written word, or borrowing within the PLR scheme (ie from a public library). Each time we choose to buy a cheapened book or acquire an author’s work for nothing, there is a small negative effect on the writer. Small effects add up to major consequences. A fair price protects future books. It matters.
"Even if many people ignore the message, others will hear it and there are people who care enough to change their practices, once they understand. I now find people apologising to me for having bought a book at high discount and that sense of guilt warms my heart! I don’t expect miracles, and I perfectly well respect that readers can’t always afford to ignore high discounts: all I want is that each reader should make an informed choice. At the moment, readers are not informed and if we don’t inform them, who will? Who should care more than we do?
"Authors are earning less and less; fewer and fewer of us are able to survive by our writing. These are facts, based on surveys by the Society of Authors, which consists of published authors. As we enter the digital age, it's particularly essential that the general public realise the consequences of not paying for what we read.
"Do you agree? If so, spread the word!"
Join the Facebook group here.
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This isn't my joke. It rings true, though. The title is mine. Don't hate me. :)
WOMAN'S DIARY
Saturday 28 July
Saw him in the evening and he was acting really strangely. I'd been shopping in the afternoon with the girls and was a bit late meeting him, thought it might be that... The bar was really crowded and loud, so I suggested we go somewhere quieter to talk. He was still very subdued and distracted so I suggested we went somewhere nice to eat. All through dinner he just didn't seem himself - he hardly laughed and didn't seem to be paying any attention to me or to what I was saying, I just knew that something was wrong. He dropped me back home and I wondered if he was going to come in. He hesitated but followed. I asked him what was wrong, but he just half shook his head and turned the television on. After about ten minutes of silence I said that I was going upstairs to bed. I put my arms around him and told him that I loved him deeply. He just gave a sigh and a sad sort of smile. He didn't follow me up immediately but came up later and, to my surprise, we made love - but he still seemed distant and a bit cold. I cried myself to sleep. I think he's planning to leave me. Maybe he's found someone else.
MAN'S DIARY
Saturday 28 July
England lost the football. Gutted. Got a shag though. |
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I'm blearily awake and still feel battered and bruised, but:
the sun is shining;
the birds are singing;
we're all still alive;
last night in the garden a friendly bat buzzed me; and
I don't know any politicians in real life.
And this week the youngest fruit of our loins arrived home with her new car. A lovely pale yellow Beetle, nine years old but very shiny and in excellent condition. Smells gorgeous inside, too.
She won't let me call him George in honour of my favourite Beatle, though. She's calling him Bugsy Ballou. I have no idea why. (He's still George to me.)
We helped her get the old banger she's been driving while at uni, but she did this one all by herself. Arranged the bank loan, chose the car, negotiated the price down and bagged some good extras, and sorted out new insurance while cancelling the old policy and requesting a rebate for the unused six months.
The car's lovely (and we're relieved to see her driving it more carefully than the way she used to throw the banger around) but it was even lovelier to see how proud she was of doing it all.
"I'm grown up now," she beamed at us.
And she is. |
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