The Wizard's Rede

I can haz new book!!

2009-04-19T08:31:02Z

Just got Jim Butcher's new book "Turn Coat". Happy camper.

We now return you to your normal bloggery.

What we have here....

2009-04-17T09:44:26Z

...is a failure to communicate.

Scene: Springfield, Missouri's LARGEST Wal Mart. Seriously, this is like those scenes in horror or monster movies, where the threat is shown in red on a screen, and the timeline shows its potential spread "unless we take action now!" This was once the smallest of the Wallie Worlds in town, situated in a sprawling, largely empty mall. Now, the mall is no more. It is now Wal-Martus of Borg. It has been assimilated. Resistance was futile. An entire freaking mall, now swallowed up into a single huge store. The aliens are among us. They wear blue vests.

It was evident from the moment we stepped inside the doors that we were out of our league...possibly our area code. There should have been maps and sherpa bearers by the doors. My girlfriend told me the place was so big she was in danger of spontaneously developing agoraphobia. We shopped for two hours, most of it travel time, and I think we saw ten percent of the place. It wasn't until we came to the checkout lines that I noticed that there was a problem.

With fifty eight checkout counters...we saw three open. Wal Mart County only had three people who could take our money? Damn!

It gets worse. Being an equitable couple (and the gf not liking checking accounts), we planned to split the cost. She paid in cash, I with my debit card. She hands over a large bill for her half, I pay the remainder with the debit card. So, when all is said and done, we're due some change because of the large bill. Simple math, right? We even made sure it was an even amount in cash, to make it even simpler.

Wanna guess how that worked out? Yeah, I blog about boring shit all the time. Change was made and we went home, right? No way.

The cashier looks at the bill in her hand, looks at the receipt, looks at the receipt some more, then at the bill in her hand, then at her open cash drawer. I even tell her the answer to this particular math quandary. Just twenty dollars, I tell her. Just make change.

No, that's too simple. That can't possibly be right. She calls for a manager. Not one, but two show up. Now I know we're doomed.

She hastily explains what she did. "They paid half in cash, half with the debit card. I put in the amount they wanted to pay, not the amount of the bill they handed me. I can't make change." All three huddle together in a conference. People start to stack up behind us. Dirty looks commence. and I'm wondering "Did I learn different math than these people? I did this in my head. My girlfriend did it without a second thought, and she is better at math than I am, and we both got the SAME ANSWER!" This isn't rocket science right?

After a few minutes, the managers move us over to a different register, and some furious tapping of keys commences as some mysterious Wal Mart math is done. Then, they hand me a receipt to sign, and I see that they just undid the WHOLE DAMN RECEIPT! They were doing a refund. Did this turn into rocket science when I wasn't looking? Then, they reach for the cart, and I ask "What am I missing here? We just overpaid by twenty bucks. Why do we have to do the whole transaction over again?"

"Her drawer will come up short." I blink, and I do the math in my head...again. Nope, still not rocket science. Then, I try to esplain.

"I paid $XX on my debit card, she paid $XX with a $Y bill. The difference is only $20. Her drawer will come out just fine if she gives us the change. As it stands, her drawer is $20 over right now." Get this. Pen and paper and a calculator are used. The managers exchange looks. They blink. Mental face palm occurs.

"You just need change?" I nod, because I am about to revert to my native tongue of sarcasm. It takes another five minutes to get the twenty dollars. Two and a half hours later, we're on our way out of the store.

Morals of the story? Use exact change. Limit the number of management staff involved to only one. And make sure they are dealing with the same problem you think they're dealing with.

I'll have what he's having....

2009-04-10T07:47:06Z

Rachelle Gardner posted an interesting entry about what your query letter says about you as an author. Made me want to go back and edit some of my queries where I touted my work as "Harry Dresden goes to Hogwarts" until I remembered I never wrote that (whew!).

But, along similar lines, it made me look at what I expect of my potential agent. Fortunately, my goals turned out to be pretty simple.

What I expect of my agent: to get me published. At least with my first book. After that, I'd like to work up to being able to write for a living. But I actually realized I wasn't expecting instant NYT best seller status the first time when I started wondering who I would give my advance copies to if the publisher could spare them (I do still daydream about some parts of being published, even if they are whimsical). I have two lists you see.

The first is the list of people who's reactions and opinion I REALLY care about. The people I want to have a copy because they are part of my writing process, and I want them to see their names in the acknowledgement section. My family, so I can have that moment of "I'm so proud of you!". These are the people I would buy copies for out of my own pocket to make sure they had one. See, some of these people are the people I work with. People I realized recently I plan to see for some time after I get published. I don't plan on quitting my day job. I daydream about it, but I don't plan on it.

Then there is the list of people (much shorter) that I'd love to put the book in front of and gloat. I suppose every writer has at least one person like this. The ones who try to stomp on other peoples' dreams. I only need one for them. They can see it, but if they want to read it...they have to buy it.

So, to my future agent, all I ask is this: get my baby out there. Yeah, I want the best deal you can get, but I know better than to expect the Pulitzer. I'll just be happy with seeing it at Barnes & Nobles. Fan girl "SQUEEE!" would be nice, but I'm a realist. I'll be happy with just having fans. Yeah, that published guy over there? I'll have what he's having. A shot of advance, and a big glass of accomplishment to chase it down with.

The least of these....

2009-03-26T03:40:21Z

This morning, I had one of the moments in my life when I am reminded that there is a Divine being, whom I call the Goddess, and that she works in subtle, wondrous ways. They're not always big, earth-shaking events. Sometimes, they're small, and breif. But they are always...beautiful.

I was running a little late morning. As I pulled up to the convenience store on the way to work, there was a little girl making her way in front of the store toward the doors. And by little, I mean toddler. By herself. "What the hell is going on here? Where are her parents?" I found myself wondering. As I came up to the door, she pointed at it and said "beh!", then pulled at it like she didnt' understand why it wasn't opening. So, being a nice person, and thinking her folks were inside, I let her in. And in she went, like the proverbial kid in a candy store. The clerk greeted me like she always does (I'm a regular there, stop by like clockwork during the week), and barely looks up. So when I try to point the little one out to her, she's shocked that I'm NOT the only person in the store.

Like any decent person, she acts...gets the manager, who finds out her name, how old she is (two years old!), and tries to find out if she lives nearby. And when I get my daily dose of caffiene set on the counter, like magic, a tiny hand pops up over the edge with a bag of skittles in it. I guess, like many children, she knew all candy had to be bought, and adults did that magic...and I was chosen for the job. That was kind of cool all by itself.

Her father showed up a few minutes later, looking all manner of put out, and scolded her from moment one. And once he had her in hand, it was like...the world started again, and I was really behind schedule.

So, how does this translate into "hand of the Goddess"? If I could put THAT into words, I wouldn't need a day job. Still, I have to try.

From the moment I saw the little girl, it was like she was being pointed out to me. Like I was being told something I didn't understand. Mostly, because I wasn't really "listening". It wasn't until after all was said and done that I got the message. It was as if I was being asked, really "Can you keep an eye on this one for a few minutes?" And it wasn't like I was rushing into a burning house to save a kitten. Hells, she may not have been in any real danger. But it felt like, for just a few moments, that I was right where I was needed, doing exactly what I needed to do. Keeping an eye on one small child until her father could find her. AndI think that was the real beauty of the moment. She may not have been in any real danger at all. But still, someone, me, was there to keep an eye on her.

I imagine moments like that happen all the time, every day. What makes me feel incredibly blessed is to be allowed to know that it happened. To see the Divine in even the smallest thing, watching over one little girl, reminds me that She's handling the Big Picture, too. and that...is cool.

Queryfail 2

2009-03-24T20:15:31Z

If you blog about it, it will happen...again.

Okay, it wasn't because I blogged about it. Colleen Lindsay is doing Queryfail 2 on April 17th.

As usual, my girlfriend, with her wisdom and magical way of cutting right to the core of things, summed up everything I had ranted about my earlier entry. A writer's query letter is like their job application and interview. A bad query letter is like showing up to an interview in jeans and a dirty t-shirt. I can't say it any better than that.

Looking forward to Queryfail2.

Queryfail Fallout

2009-03-24T08:09:48Z

Wow. Just...wow.

Back in March, FinePrint Lit agent Colleen Lindsay did a Twitter fest called Queryfail. In essence, she posted excerpts from query letters she received, showing the worst mistakes and biggest examples of people not following guidelines, or just plain good sense and common courtesy.

Some folks liked it, some folks didn't.

Some folks REALLY didn't.

Reactions, to say the least....varied. Nathan Bransford, who's insights into the publishing industry are always well received by this aspiring writer, simply chose not to participate, because he didn't want anyone to fear that by querying him, that they would end up as blog or Twitter fodder. That showed some real class. Participating or not, it was his compassionate reasoning that impressed me. The man is made of awesome. Rachelle Gardner breifly participated, then bowed out for similar reasons. My hat's off to both of them for some very author friendly acts of kindness there. Rachelle even vowed never to directly quote a bad query letter. In my humble opinion, she's built from pure cool.

However, I feel that their decision to not participate was motivated from their interpretation of their motives. They felt as if pointing out bad examples was being malicious, and did not seem to feel that it would help authors avoid making really STUPID mistakes in the querying process. So, while I respect their decision to avoid temptaiton...I don't feel that Queryfail was disrespectful.

In it's layout, Colleen distinctly and clearly said "Don't give enough info to identify anyone." The idea was to show examples of what not to do, show people where the landmines were. But I think a lot of people are under the impresson that queries are "private correspondence" and are thus sacrosanct. That somehow, querying an agent is the first step in a relationship between friends.

*** NEWS FLASH ***

Queries are business correspondence. We're not trying to make friends. Neither are agents. Think of what an agent is looking for in a potential client: someone who can MAKE MONEY FOR THEM! What is a writer looking for in an agent? Given some of the bad examples of queries I've seen and heard, I can't be sure of what many writers are looking for. I'll tell you what I'm looking for though. I want an agent who will MAKE MONEY FOR ME! (Amazing how that works the same for both sides) I want a professional who will get a publisher to to buy my book and sell it, so I can make money doing what I love. I can only presume an agent is looking for a writer they know they can trust to be equally professional. Someone who can play by the rules of the people with the money. Someone who will handle their editing and rewrites and meet their deadlines. Every damn time.

Someone who understands what it means when they send a query letter to one person who reads them by the hundred. Every day. Believe it or not, agents have submission guidelines for a reason. They get too many to have to go in a dozen different directions every time they open an email or a submission letter.

In my head, here is what I'm saying to an agent if I don't follow their submissions guidelines:

I either didn't do my research, or I don't care what you want. I think I know your job better than you do, in spite of never having done it before. And when the publisher or editor comes to me with a rewrite, or a deadline, I'm not going to come through for you, because I am eirther too lazy or disrespectful.

Which boils down to one thing: I'm not going to make you a dime when all is said and done, and be a huge waste of your time.

Seriously, if you can't write a one page letter and do some basic research, what makes you think you can handle edits and rewrites? Or deadlines? Or finishing a second book? Or a third, etc.? Getting a novel published doesn't stop for you once you write "The End". That's just the beginning.

And if you're going to have a problem with someone accurately attributing what you wrote to you, then why are you writing in the first place? No, that's the wrong question. If you're writing something for someone else to read, why are you not writing your best stuff ever? Especially in the letter that is supposed to convince this person to put their time and energy into selling your work?

As you can see, if you've made it this far, I have little pity for people who can't be bothered to take the time to follow at least the basic guidelines. They make my life more difficult. Their "innovative" letters are standing between my work and a potential agent, wasting their time and pissing them off before they even read my letter. Is it any wonder these same people fail to understand that this isn't a love note to their girlfriend, or a personal letter to a friend? This is a business letter, and we're pretty damn lucky that it's NOT just out there for anyone to see.

My advice to anyone who has issues with Queryfail: Don't send in anything you wouldn't be proud to have read out loud in Times Square.

Personally, I probably wouldn't participate if I was an agent because I wouod be afraid of my own motives, too. But it's nice to know where the landmines are.

Thank you, H Beam Piper

2009-03-15T20:30:05Z

As a kid, living in South Texas in the mid 70s to the mid 80s, I was an anomoly. I had no real interest in football, even though I played it from sixth grade through my senior year. I couldn't tell a Camaro from a Trans Am, or what year a Mustang was from it's front grill. I liked playing a strange new game called Dungeons and Dragons, and reading science fiction and fantasy. Since I read as much Conan as I did anything else, I was allowed to continue with that.

My parents, well intentioned folks that they were, feared for my future. My father kept telling me to "get my head out of Star Wars and live in the real world." My mother tried to agree with him, being a good wife and mom of the day by all the standards she'd been taught. In short, I was in mortal peril of growing up a nerd. Through much intervention from my parents, I managed to avoid that fate, and grow up as an athletic geek, instead. I learned as much about guns as I did about FTL travel, read Mack Bolan and the Destroyer alongside Tolkien, Asimov, L Sprague DeCamp and EE "Doc" Smith. And, little did I know it, sci-fi pioneer H Beam Piper.

My first acknowledged contact with Piper's work was in the late 80s, when I bought the Fuzzy Papers in a little used book store in Wichita. Little Fuzzy, and Fuzzy Sapiens. Those two are still books that belong in my permanent library, books I will not part with even under the most dire of financial straits, books I will happily reread again and again. Piper's work introduced me to science fiction with heart, to interplanetary law and the question of sentience, and how being two feet tall and furry is no impediment to being a big damn hero.

Today, I learned over on io9 that Little Fuzzy was NOT my first encounter with H Beam Piper's work. But, like Little Fuzzy, he had made a tremendous impact on my early life, with the idea that some things are, in fact, universal. The idea that, if we understand the universe, we can understand other beings. What a cool notion. The story was called Omnilingual, and I read it in an anthology I checked out of the library in junior high school, never knowing the author's name. But, now I understand something about being a good writer.

Even if they don't know who you are, even if they never know your name or write you fantabulous raving fan letters, if you're a good writer, you can make an impact on someone's life. One that lasts forever, and makes a little part of what you wrote a precious memory, a life-changing moment of wonder, for the person reading it.

Agent Jennifer Jackson once asked what writers would do if they knew they would never get published. This is why I would keep writing. Because somewhere, someone put the words down on paper that inspired me to write. A long dead author showed me a world that was outside the one I lived in, made it bigger because he colored outside the lines, and drew pictures of his own. I would be doing those writers a disservice if I didn't follow the Muse they introduced me to, and keep writing, keep trying.

So, thank you, Mr. Piper, wherever you are,

Car updatery

2009-03-14T09:13:53Z

Behold, I am a genius. Well, actually, my girlfriend's daughter's fiance' is. I finished attaching the part to the starter (car mechanics have my utmost respect. They do crap like this day in and day out, and in less than half the time it takes me.), and got in, turned the key, feeling ever so proud of me....and heard *click*.

Depression sets in pretty quickly after that kind of expenditure of energy, and all you get is a single *click*. No earth shattering ka-bewm, not even a half assed try to start. *click*. I rant, I rave, I swear vengeance on someone, anyone, I even consider a villainous monologue followed by a bout of therapeutic evil laughter. Then I call my girlfriend's daughter's fiance. The one who is good with tools. He says "Charge the battery." I respond with a few blinks, having never even thought of that. I go over, borrow the battery charger, and do just that.

The car starts.

Now, I am a freaking genius for thinking to ask him. My girlfriend is happy with me, and i have the scrapes and minor cuts from working on the car that look ever so manly.

The world is safe once again.

Fruitless activities

2009-03-11T08:02:41Z

There are days when you are the freight train, and days when you're the unlucky vermin on the tracks.

Today, I was the idiot working on his car and trying to beat a rainstorm before I got soaked.

News flash: I lost that race. Big time. I came in soaked and cold and pissed off, since I didn't finish the car in time. However, the alternative was to try to monkey around with the battery while standing in the rain. So, that plan got tossed into the basket marked "Bad", then was immediately demoted to the barrel marked "What the hell were you thinking!?"

What a day. Oh, well, back to the grindstone tomorrow. Yay....

Good agenty news

2009-03-09T06:47:50Z

Okay, granted it's not MY good news, but it makes me feel hopeful, dammit!

My crit partner, Hayley, has gotten a request for a partial, then a full on the same day from an agent. To me, this is awesome, and since we worked on query letters together a few weeks back, it gives me hope that I can get same (assuming my story is actually good, which I believe it is...but New York Times bestseller status is in the pocketbook of the reader, not me). To me, anything that is not a form rejection is a step in the right direction at this point. It means she's getting people's attention, and that means someone is going to click with her work strongly enough to be able to sell it.

Sending out wishes for all the best of luck to her today and through out the week or month it might take for the agent to get it read and decide to represent her. And now, back to her work to finish crit'ing the last two chapters and get it back to her.

As if I don't have enough to do...

2009-03-04T06:42:04Z

So, I thought my TBR pile was tall enough.

I was wrong, because evidently, there are still evil authors like myself writing very readable books, darn them and their evil ways. Well, they're like me in that they are authors. Jury is still out on whether what I write is as readable to others or not yet.

So, currently, in various states of completion on my TBR pile are the following:

Mean Streets (an anthology of Jim Butcher, Simon R Green, Kat richardson and Thomas E Sniegoski's work)
White Witch, Black Curse by Kim Harrison
Path of Honor by Di Francis (having just finished her very readable "The Black Ship" recently)
Unfallen Dead by Mark del Franco
The Vampire Agent by Patricia Rosemoor and Marc Paoletti
Uncean Spirits, by MLN Hanover
Witch High (edited by Denise Little)
The Han Solo Adventures (all three of Brian Daley's stories)
Wizards, an anthology edited by Jack Dann and Gardener Dozois

and still in the wings for the TBR list is Turn Coat by Jim Butcher, which is due out in April 7. Yeah, gonna get that one in hardback. I support my favorite authors.

Attitude, Practicality, and Gratitude

2009-03-02T09:42:08Z

Second Chance is ready for the first round of queries. I'm hopeful, since even before it was actually finished and polished, I had one nibble from an agent. So, now that it's as polished as I (with lots of input from my fellow writers over at Online Writer's workshop) can make it, I'm hopeful for some good luck.

But, I'm also trying to thicken my emotional skin to handle the inevitable rejections. I have to remember, it isn't personal. It's professional. I just have to keep trying one more time than I am rejected. Talent is wasted if it isn't accompanied by persistence and belief in a project that is stronger than the possibility of being turned down. If I don't believe in what I'm doing enough to keep trying in the face of rejection, how am I supposed to expect an agent to believe in it enough to try to sell it?

As I put the final touches on a query letter, I also begin to think about other things, planning with being published in mind. Like, how am I going to be able to help market my own book? On my own, there are a ton of ways. Some are easy. Places like livejournal, blogspot, making my own website. I already know of several local places I can reach out to for visibility. Saint Louis and Kansas City aren't too far from here, and I can make trips there and back to promote it. For that matter, I have friends near Seattle and Los Angeles, and my girlfriend's sister lives in San Francisco. So, with a little saving and scrimping, I could travel further afield, too. and all of that, is in addition to whatever the publisher might ask me to do...including staying quiet on the sidelines while people who know what the hell they're doing do things right, if I have to. You know, I'm enough of a ham that I'd hate to do that, but enoug of a realist to do it if I have to.

I have to stay realistic, too. Short of a $50K or larger advance, and a TON of marketing help from a publisher, I can't consider quitting my day job. While it's a nice dream, it doesn't happen overnight, and many times, not at all. In addition to my normal taxes, I would have to take into consideration taxes on any income I made as a writer as well, and hold back from any advance or royalties to pay those. Granted, there are other things I could take as deductions for expenses, but in the end, it's still not going to be cheap. Or easy.

My conclusion? This isn't going to be an easy road. I have to ask myself "Self, are you ready for this?" I'd be an idiot if I said "Yes!" And that, I think, is why I am as close to ready as I can get. I've done my homework, and learned enough to know that I'm going to be surprised, and that this isn't going to be all fame and glory. I know just enough to be a little scared, and more than impressed with myself in hindsight for even getting this far. In the end, if I do get published, am I ready to end up as a one book wonder? Well, I would still be published, and that would be cool. But being a single book author would only be something people could say about me when I was dead, because I would still write and still try. Another end of that road is being a midlist author, essentially selling enough to keep some contracts going and have a few hundred or thousand fans, not enough to break the New York Time bestseller list or get thebig money. And while I could deal with that, I would always keep trying to do better. But I could handle walking that road, too.

Even if I never get published, I love writing. I will always do it, until I go blind or die.

They say that writing is a lonely process. Maybe that's why there are so many people involved in it. I know I could never have gotten this far without my girlfriend's patience and encouragement. How she put up with me pacing the floor and muttering out loud, I'll never know. I'm very grateful to her for being my sounding board, and putting up with all of the hours I spent staring at the screen, wrestling with a particularly rough chapter. I had a group of friends who followed Chance's adventures along as they were written and rewritten, too. Greg, Leah, Angie, Roanen, Laura, you guys helped bring Chance and his world to life and helped me get to the part where I wrote "The End". My crit buddies on OWW deserve a shoutl too, since they were the ones who lovingly (I presume, and let me keep my delusions) ripped my work to shreds, and showed me that I really needed to rewrite the therapist scene. I'm here because of your help. Thank you.

Now, like the Fool of the tarot, I begin to take that first step.

I wanna be THIS cool

2009-03-02T06:48:35Z

We all want to change the world a little, right? Sometimes it's in big, noble ways, like ending world hunger, or curing AIDS or some such. Other times, it's in small ways that make our own little slice of reality a little easier to deal with, like seeing the idiot who cut us off on the freeway get pulled over.

That, to me, is one of the fun things about being a writer, even if I'm not a published one yet. I get to write characters who can create change in their world on some level. I may not be able to save the world, but I write characters who do. For my main character, Chance, it's all about helping the little guy, mostly his classmates, in the process of staving off doom and social Armegeddon. A little wish fulfillment for both me, and eventually, hopefully, my readers (of which I hope to one day have legions of, but for now, I'm grateful for the even dozen who support my work and my ego).

Even if I became rich and famous, I've always wondered, how much impact can I have? I don't have magic, nor super powers, and I have yet to stumble on to a powerful weapon that will enable me to destroy the minions of the Dark Lord and save the economy. For that matter, neither has anyone else, though I wish Mr Obama the best of luck on his quest to slay that dragon. I can have some impact, and I do what I can. Of course, for anyone who has ever read Batman, wealth IS a super-power. Right now, my wealth super-power is being suppressed by my age old weakness, reality. Hence my desire to become a published author. I may not become rich, or even well off, but I can be heard by a few hundred, or a few hundred thousand if I'm really, REALLY lucky.

On that quest, I discovered this on Brandon sanderson's blog. How cool is this? He's essentially letting readers "bid" on a walk on role in the latest Wheel of Time novel. Their contributions are donated to a charitable cause. The world is made a little better place. Yeah, I want to be THAT cool.

So, my solemn vow is this: When I get published, I will do something like this. I mean, honestly, it's the folks who buy a writers' books who make them what they are. It's these folks who give agents and editors and publishers a job, and who make a writer a New York Times bestseller. Why not let them have a part of that? And, in the process, help someone else out. Then, the reader also gets to save the world, right along with the main character, because they know "I made a difference" .

Like this was a big surprise

2008-12-10T09:01:52Z

Took a quiz, and this is what I got. Oh, come on, I write about a sorceror! Are you surprised?

Which creature of the night are you? Your Result: Sorceror Control is the name of your game. You are a studied tactician and scientist and you seek a kingdom where things make sense, damn the morals, even if you have to create it. You are cold, calm and calculating.
Vampire
Incubus/Succubus
Cthulu Spawn
Werewolf
Ghost
Demon
Which creature of the night are you? Quiz Created on GoToQuiz

Egad!!

2008-08-29T09:34:54Z

So, back in my early years away from home, when I was at my first and only station in the Air Force, I used to spend more money on games and comics than on food. I got lucky in the early days, and picked up some very good early stuff. I was buying TMNT before it was a popular kids cartoon, back when the only way you could tell the turtles apart was by their weapons, and before they got dumbed down for 6 year olds. I bought a few really cool games, including an obscure game called the Morrow Project, which I sitll play by email, and this funky game in another obscure genre called Space: 1899. I loved it, but I never could find anyone else interested in it. "It's too obscure, no one gets it" I heard too many times. That was before I moved out of the great state of Kansas and joined the 20th century again.

Recently, I rediscovered the genre, and found out I've been a closet steampunk fan for years, and didn't even know it. So, lately, I've been reading Phil Foglio's Girl Genius comic, and enjoying it immensely. I may need to try to write some of that genre, stretch my writing skills a little.

Another complete waste of time I've indulged in is Travian, a free online strategy and simulation game. I love running my own little village, gathering resources and training warriors to defend it. I am my own litlte warlord!

Now, it's after my bed time.

The Ripple Effect

2008-08-26T17:33:00Z

So, over on Online Writer's Workshop, I've learned a few things. Like how to effectively use critiques of your work. I've learned that when one person says something but no one else does, that it may just be their opinion, and editing your story to fit it might not be the best thing to do. But when everyone has the same reaction to the SAME passage...it's time to pull it, slap the stupid out of it, and rewrite it or delete it altogether.

Thus, the last six weeks. (A note on timing: never assume your baby is ready for submission until someone else has read it cold, all the way through). So, after I submitted to two agents, I got feedback from a test reader that finally showed me how weak a scene was, and most importantly, WHY it didn't make sense. What was crazy was that it was the same thing other people had said, but phrased differently enough that it finally got through. Here's the crazy part: I couldn't JUST pull that scene. Too many plot points revolved around that one passage to simply destroy it. It put important characters where they needed to be, introduced major characters and plot developments, and set the tone for the relationship between the protagonist and his father.

So, I rewrote it.

Now, the ripple effect. I had to introduce the character's mother again somehow. Thus, a new scene earlier in the story, this one poignant and heart wrenching as he observes her from a distance. I also had to introduce his sister fresh, because in the previous rendition, they already knew each other. Now, they meet for the first time the morning after he arrives at his mother's house. And somewhere in there, I developed his explanation for why he was there in the middle of the night, and get to show his mother's devotion to her absent son. Fifty pages, I rewrote. Because of one scene. And in the end, I just have to say...God, I'm good!!! (Cuz if I don't, I end up saying "Damn, I suck!")

And, in the midst of rewriting, I became a grandfather again. Baby Isabella Grace arrived in the world on August 15th at 3:56 AM. She is, in my estimation, the cutest child on the planet. And I'm completely unbiased in that. Yeah, that's the ticket....

Politics of E-mail redux

2008-07-15T11:54:33Z

So, I'm thinking about taking up a new hobby: collecting Barack Obama e-mails. Why? Because they go with my drapes? No, because they're so damn funny. So, here's the latest:

You are aware, probably, that Barack Obama lost his bearings recently and said that he was going to campaign in all 57 states. You heard this? And everybody chalked it up to, 'Well, he's tired.'

Barack Obama says he's gonna go out and campaign in 57 states, he was just tired, you know, it's been such a long campaign, he's been so many places, he probably thinks there are 57 states. Well, there's a website called the International Humanist and Ethical Union (http://www.iheu.org/). And here is how the second paragraph of an article (titled 'How the Islamic states dominate the UN human rights council') on that website begins:

Every year from 1999 to 2005 the Organization of the Islamic Conference, representing the 57 Islamic states, presented a resolution to the UN Commission on Human Rights, called â€œCombating Defamation of Religionsâ€

Obama said he's going to campaign in 57 states, and it turns out that there are 57 Islamic states. So did Obama just lose his bearings, or was this a more telling slip, ladies and gentlemen?

Do all Americans a favor and forward this to everyone on your email list. With our country at odds with the Muslims, what will happen if Obama becomes our next president? PLEASE think and pray before voting.

LOL...this is funny!!!! Wait, were you serious? Because there also happens to be several other ominous things the insidious Mr Obama could have been referring to in his "telling slip" as well.

For instance:

He could, in fact, be from galaxy NGC 57, an elliptical galaxy in the constellation Pisces. Maybe he's an alien, and left the obvious Islamic name thinking we'd believe that an Islamic secret agent wouldn't change his name, and would instead run for president with an OBVIOUSLY Islamic name, assuming 300 million people wouldn't get it. All the while, we're thinking we're uncovering, via the internet and e-mailed information (using the term loosely) things the CIA, NSA, Department of Homeland Security and John McCain's political strategists MISSED!!!! Oh my GOD!!! Barack Obama is really an ALIEN!!! Because a savvy political figure like John McCain isn't too stupid to see that he's really an Islamic terrorist who couldn't come up with a more American name, right? Why hasn't HE brought this up? Because he knows the truth, that Obama is secretly a Piscean...and to think, he gave it ALL away with one slip of the tongue. (Actually, Obama was born in August, so he's really a Leo.)

Orrrr.....

He could really be Agent 57...you know, the Master of Disguise from Dangermouse? Makes sense for an Islamic agent to alter his appearance and appear to be a dark skinned man with an obvious Islamic monicker. No, NO ONE would see through that disguise. Man, the CIA needs to recruit the guy who came up with this e-mail as an intelligence analyst for the President. He could have us invading Illinois as a nuclear-armed, terrorist supporting foreign power in no time.

57 is also the direct dial code for international calls to the South American country of Columbia. Maybe he's revealing his secret drug ties?

57 is also the designation of French part "Moselle" Departement part of "Lorraine" region. His French loving ways are coming to the fore!!!!

I mean, come on. But wait, here's something else....the IHEU...the International HUMANIST and Ethical Union. Who are these fact finding wizards? The IHEU is the sole world umbrella organization for Humanist, atheist, rationalist, secular, skeptical and freethought and similar organizations around the globe. What is a Republican supporter doing citing their facts? For that matter, I couldn't even verify the existence of this article without having to open an account with them. So, Humanists are okay so long as they say something that supports a "well founded" theory about Barack Obama, otherwise they can't be trusted and are going to Hell? Again, come ON!!! Cite wikipedia or something, not the IHEU. The author's credibility doesn't take so big a hit on the hypocrisy scale. I found the same info on wikipedia.

By the way, with all of these super sleuths running around, why have none of them discovered the single most important fact about Barack Obama? You know...which terrorist state actually trained this world class super secret agent/terrorist from the age of 3? I mean, seriously, if he really was a Muslim terrorist hoping to undermine us from within, wouldn't he have done a better job of hiding it? If it was me, I would have changed my name, gone to Michael Jackson's dermatologist, and become a Republican instead. My cover story would have been a LOT better, too. My father wouldn't have been from a foreign country, he would have been from Iowa, and I would have been born on a farm. And I wouldn't have married an educated black woman who could read, write or think. I would have gotten me a rich trophy bimbo with blonde hair, a pretty face and a good pedigree who could do a good sound bite.

You know, the author encourages us to think and pray before voting. But, we're supposed to take his word for it that no government law enforcement or intelligence agency has figured out what he has gleaned from the internet and pieced together. We're supposed to believe that John McCain is such an idiot that he hasn't even HEARD or thought of this, either. Neither did Senator Clinton. For that matter, the INS let Obama slip by in even getting his name on the ballot. All of these people, with hundreds of well trained, dedicated folks, including the other person we're being encouraged by default to vote for because of the "revelations" exposed by these e-mails, haven't discovered this (because no one has forwarded this to John McCain, have they?), and aren't using such an obvious flaw in Barack Obama's otherwise subtle and well-constructed plan to wipe out the United States. I mean, what is more hilarious? John McCain being that oblivious, or the secret Islamic planning session where it was decided that no single American citizen was smart enough to see through a subtle clue like the name "Barack Obama" during a presidential campaign.

This is why I vote. I get to say things like this, make political jokes, and no one comes to arrest me for disagreeing with them. Because the person who created ths e-mail gets to send it to other people who forward it on, and the worst thing they have to endure is my acidic sense of humor. Freedom of speech. Freedom of religion.

On a less humorous note, I found the last statements of this e-mail disturbing, about the US being at odds with the Muslims. Funny, I thought we were liberating the Muslims (you know, the ones in Iraq who needed more than 4000 of our soldiers to die so we could help them vote and experience true freedom for the first time, regardless of their creed or beliefs?), helping them out (those Muslims in Afghanistan who needed us to come scatter the Taliban to the four winds so they could practice their religion as freely as we do here, and let women actually go to school openly?). Exactly which Muslims is THIS person at odds with? President Bush didn't declare a war on Islam, he declared a war on terror. Our boys didn't spill their blood to oppress or destroy a religion, they made their sacrifices to free people who really needed the taste of freedom. A people who honored our soldiers sacrifices better than we do. People who came to vote under the threat of violence and death, while we forget to vote, or just can't be bothered to get off the couch, or decide it's too much trouble to get up a few minutes early, or it's raining. These Muslims we are supposedly "at odds with" left the voting stations proudly displaying the dye marker on their thumbs...the same dye marker that could get them killed. They honored our men and women in uniform by exercising their right to vote. We honor them by turning the election into a spectator sport, and slinging the worst crap we can make up about the other guy. I guess this bothers me because I used to be one of those guys in uniform. Even though my military career was nothing spectacular, I served my country. Take back your vote. Speak, and be heard.

I knew it....

2008-07-15T02:23:27Z

I'm evil. This probably explains why I'm the GM who gives my players nightmares.

It's been awhile....

2008-07-14T06:35:44Z

I'm not lazy, really. Mostly just addicted to Guild Wars. It's my guilty pleasure right now.

That, and writing Page of Swords. Yeah, I know, my first completed and polished to within an inch of its life manuscript doesn't even have representation yet, and I'm working on book two of a series that exists solely in my head so far. This is me thinking positive. After all, the folks I've let read the completed manuscript for me like it, so even if those are my only fans, I'm doing somethign at least halfway decent.

In fact, one of my friends who's been along for the ride from word one recently began dubbing certain things "Chance worthy" or "That's a Chance line." That's kinda cool...especially since he deems Dirk Benedict's version of Lt Starbuck as "Chance, all the way!" When I was a kid, watching the original BSG, I always wanted to be Starbuck. There I go, waving my geek flag.

Saw Hellboy II today. Great action flick...interesting ending. I could see some of the gags coming from a mile off, but some moments o the movie...just...wow. You never see coming, and when they get there, you sit back and think "This is the way it should be." In particular, there is a moment where the battle is won, and in the end I wondered...is the world really a better place? But hten, HB is my favorite kind of hero, the kind with the warts on. Ugly, rough around the edges, but still the nicest guy you could meet outside of "work" and all.

So, onward...I should be writing, submitting queries, etc.

Done....

2008-07-01T10:32:36Z

Wow. I just put the final polishing touches on Second Chance and got all the chapter breaks where I want them. I've been working solid on this for two weeks, and I'm afraid I've neglected my friends a bit to get this rush job done. I've got a bit of a self imposed schedule in place, and I'm happy to say I ended up getting it done a couple of days before I anticipated. Now to get the synopsis and query letter tightened up (and make the synopsis match the new draft!). I hope to get those ready to go before Friday.

Second Chance is supposed to be the first book of a series. I'm already part way through the second story, tentatively titled Page of Swords, and I have rough outlines on parts three and four, with an overall story arc that should follow Chance through high school and into the "real world." Right now, I just don't know what to call the series. I suppose I could just name it after the main character. He has a pretty cool name. The Fortunato Files does sound pretty neat. My Gypsy girl likes "Fortunate Son" as a series name, but that sounds a lot like something Orson Scott Card would write, and I'm not sure I'm up to the comparison yet, even if it's only in my own head.

Well, one thing at a time.

A wierd week

2008-06-23T09:39:47Z

Last week was wierd. It was a roller coaster of good and bad.

My best friend's father passed away, earlier this month, which was very sad. He's still grieving, and I hate to see him sad. Hard to put into words how this affects me, mostly because it affects the Big Dawg. There are very few people I care about like him. Aside from my Gypsy, he's one of a handful of people I would trust utterly, not only with my life, but to speak up for me if someone even said something bad about me. Very few people could safely say that about anyone they know. SO his loss is a loss for me, too.

My oldest friend dealt with some difficult drama last weekend, and she dealt with it well, I think. As a result, she's looking at a major improvement at work. So, good and bad there.

Then, last night, I learned that the man I called Dad died on Father's Day, of complications due to an infection.

I'm curiously unmoved by his passing, I think mostly because he changed so much after I left home. Query letter version, he succumbed to his personal demons, and to me, the man I knew, the man who raised me, ceased to exist years ago. He died in a torrent of verbal abuse. I grieved for that man years ago. On Father's Day, the stranger who was walking around in my father's body died.

And, George Carlin died yesterday. Suddenly, the world isn't quite as much fun any more.

Maybe there will be better news for the end of this week. For now, I have editing to do, and a floating deadline (self-imposed) to meet. I decided to increase a major character's presence earlier in the book, which actually allowed me to eliminate one entire scene and 2K words before I even GOT to the scene being removed. However, one of the characters I had wanted to introduce got eliminated from this story. I liked him, too. However, I think I knwo where to intro him in the third story.

Well, the sun is coming up, so I should retreat to my dark & comfy bedroom.

Happy Solstice

2008-06-21T03:12:56Z

Happy Summer Solstice, or Litha to all you pagany types. Buncha durn heathens.

Waiting....

2008-06-19T17:13:58Z

I hate waiting.....

That is all.

Unusual stuff...

2008-06-18T17:14:46Z

Yesterday was filled with fun and oddness. And ordinary things.

After fighting the third Great Flood of our basement apartment (I have a large load of gopherwood on order, and am trying to decide if a cubit is from elbow to wrist or to fingertips), we finally got out to do laundry yesterday. Left a load at the laundromat when we had to dry part of it again, so I drove back to the laudromat to pick it up, feeling like an idiot all the way.

After the Gypsy's granddaughter got home from her summer program (she's a youth leader at a summer program, isn't she awesome?), we took her to go get a hamster, and the little creature just about chewed his way out of the box on the way home. She named the little guy Oreo, he's a black bear hamster. I'm sure pictures of him will begin to appear on her Myspace page soon.

Once home from that little adventure, we sat down to have dinner, thinking our day was back to ordinary. But, then, a bird flew into our basement apartment's window and perched on the back of my Gypsy girl's chair. Both cats just looked at it like they had never seen a bird before (I've seen them dragging various of his kin about, so I know that's not the case!). After a couple of moments when it didn't take off and start flying about, we opened the door and grabbed a blanket to herd him out, and got within arm's reach of it, and it DIDN'T move. Just sat there looking at us like a couple of idiots holding a blanket up for no good reason. We were so close, I reached out and managed to get it perched on my finger and walked outside with it. And it still didn't fly off. It finally flew to the fence when I was within a foot of it, but it sat there and eyed the apartment window for twenty minutes or so before it flew off again.

There's more, but I'm waiting to see how it pans out before I say anything about it. Stay tuned.

Dreams

2008-06-11T17:30:06Z

Okay, I have 10 minutes to post an entry before I have to leave for work.

Last night, I had a "house" dream, and no, I'm not talking about the cranky doctor with a limp on TV. I'm talking about a dream where I'm in a house and exploring it. Usually, these are interesting explorations of what's going on in my head at the time. Well, this was about the coolest house I ever dreamt. It was wide open, with all kinds of cool furniture with rounded shapes and nifty little parts that turned from a table into a lounge chair, and a kitchen counter with a fridge under it. Unlike a lot of the houses in my dreams, this one had lots of open spaces, sort of like something Frank Lloyd Wright would create, and it was all "upstairs." Like there was no ground floor. I so want to live there.

What does this mean? Aside from the fact that I have too much time on my mind? I think it means my brain is in creative hyperdrive, and it's happy there.

Gods, I love being me. Maybe one day, when I'm all famous, I'll sell tickets to be me for a day. I'll give them out as prizes in a contest.