Poll #1427383
This poll is closed.
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All
What kind of scene would you like to hear?
View Answers
Ilse being devious
0 (0.0%)
Raul being arrogant 0 (0.0%)
Gerek on a spy mission 0 (0.0%)
Valara robbing dead bodies 2 (40.0%)
Miro contemplating treason 1 (20.0%)
How should I know? I haven't read the book yet. 1 (20.0%)
Ticky! 3 (60.0%)
No guarantees that the scene will contain all your choices, of course.
ETA: So clearly I need to read a scene with Valara robbing dead bodies, whilst muttering, "Ticky, ticky, ticky." This might require a rewrite.
...for Ars Memoriae to be released. PS Publishing recently updated the entry for AM with jacket copy and cover art. On the other hand, I haven't yet received the signing sheets. The last date I heard was early August. This is my favorite story so far from the Éireann series, and I can hardly wait to hold a copy in my hands. I hope readers like it too.
...and just I started waiting for my editor's reaction to QUEEN'S HUNT. She intends to get notes back to me by the end of the month, mid-August at the latest. Predictably, I'm in the post novel slump and convinced the story, characters, and writing are utter crap. (Ask me next month how I feel.)
...and of course there's waiting for PASSION PLAY to come out, the film company that asked about various stories plus the novel, and various anthologies that might and maybe will come out later this year, but you get the idea. Lots of waiting.
So what do I do with all this waiting? Right now I'm prepping for Readercon. After that, I might noodle away at an outline for ALLEGIANCE. The first couple chapters are fairly clear, and I have a vague notion where it should end, but the middle parts are a complete blank.
Or maybe I could write a short story...
The Radical Rewrite. Catherine Asaro, Beth Bernobich, Victoria Blake (M),
Barry B. Longyear, Eugene Mirabelli, Sarah Smith
Some time after beginning the first draft, the author changes a major
structural component: the setting, the relationships of the characters, or
even the genre ("this would be so much better with a vampire," as Justine
Larbalestier puts it). This phenomenon poses interesting questions about
the nature of storytelling. For example, if you can write a horror novel
that becomes better when turned into a YA novel, does that mean you were
writing a YA novel in the first place but just didn't know it consciously?
What other surprising metamorphoses have our panelists grappled with?
Sunday 10:00 AM
Reading. An excerpt from Queen's Hunt.
*runs off yelping into the dark*
(Why yes, I *am* close to finishing the second draft. Why do you ask?)
four languages taught. over four hundred students, including 111 girls in the french program, and only 33 boys. m has lots of snacks, two dictionaries, one week's worth of clothes, a roll of quarters for the laundromat, and one very large case of diet coke.
we pick him up in four weeks.
You can't control editors or agents or what readers like. You can't control publication dates, no matter how much you want to. Or other publishers, who are getting (spiffy! shiny!) books out in half the time yours is taking.
You know all that. You aren't an idiot.
And yet, you can't quite control your brain from visiting you with nightmares about canceled contracts, or books languishing on your hard drive, or all the other vaguaries of publishing. So you vent to a couple trusted friends. (And hope they have time and patience, because this is certainly NOT the first time you've done this.) Or you post something innocuous/silly/off-the-wall to take your mind off the nattering from your inner critic.
Eventually, the gibbering dies down. You find enough space to figure out what you really must do next. You read a few pages from the latest draft. Yeah, you cringe a few times. Maybe lots of times. But you trudge on and you find a couple pages where you go, Hmmmmmmm.
Then your critic goes quiet. And you remember how much you love these characters and their story. And you think, okay, you can squeeze in a good writing session this weekend in spite of other obligations.
And the small strong warrior inside you says, You can.
M has finished his finals for the year, and is preparing for a month-long language immersion program in Vermont. (He's in the French section.) He will be without his computer, his cell phone, and his iPod. Also, no air conditioning. This should be interesting.
Revisions continue with QUEEN'S HUNT. I've edited through chapter 13. Ten more to go. (The ones that need the most work, alas.)
Three weeks to Readercon. Will you be there?
No, I'm talking personalities. Those are the writers editors and agents don't want to work with. Writers that other writers don't want to deal with, whether it's one-on-one interactions or in a regular workshops. Writers who poison group dynamics and lead newbies astray into a swamp of bitterness.
You know them. They're the ones that rant forever about how no one recognizes their genius. How it's EVERYONE ELSE's fault they aren't published. That there's something evil about editors, or agents, or even other writers, that prevents them from achieving the recognition they deserve.
But that's just the outer surface of their poison. After all, we all know a writer or two who talks about the evils of publishing and how no one loves their precious work. We call them Speshul Snowflakes, and mostly we shake our heads and ignore their patented excuses. They might mislead a few newbies, but only for a while, and besides, they aren't actually vicious, mostly sad.
The poisonous ones, however, go far beyond that.
They play mind games with others in the group. They pull rank. (Though they only have some minor credits from decades ago.) Or they pull genre. (Oh, fantasy, they sigh. Oh, *commercial* fiction.) Or they pretend to ask for feedback, then lash out with passive aggressive comments that make your brain cramp. (As in, what dark damp place did you pull that interpretation of my feedback from?)
And if you try to engage them honestly, they talk about your anger, or they condescend. They twist everything around to make themselves the wronged party, and you some poor, deluded, dysfunctional fool.
They do this because you didn't give them the validation they obviously deserve, so you must have something wrong with you. You aren't as educated. Or you write trash. Or you just don't have the right credentials. Though you have to wonder why they asked for your feedback in the first place.
Pretty soon, the workshop falls to pieces, because the new writers think they have to worship Ms. Precious or they will suffer her passive-aggressive wrath. And the ones who know better are just too annoyed or disgusted by her idiocy. The worse scenario is online, when a lone new writer comes across Ms. Poison and thinks they've found an expert. Those who know publishing aren't fooled. But those who don't? They lose time. They lose opportunities. They sometimes lose confidence.
And that's something I can't forgive.
A fascinating combination of alternate history and gritty spy tale, Ars Memoriae will compel you to follow its hero through the twists and turns of its complex plot and leave you hoping to see more of its world. Ms. Bernobich has intuitively picked up on one of the most entertaining elements in alternate history: giving you enough throwaway clues to keep you speculating on where exactly this alternate world branched away from our own. Is Adrian Dee a descendant of the Elizabethan scholar and mystic John Dee, for example? And the red haired queen, Áine Lasairíona Devereaux—is she a descendant of Robert Devereaux, Earl of Essex? Ill-fated in the world we know, did his rebellion succeed in some other timeline, supplanting the Tudor/ Stuart monarchy for a dynasty based in Ireland? This is only guesswork, of course; for other hints, read Ms. Bernobich’s further fine balloon-flights into her elegant universe.
Jacket copy from the lovely and talented Nick Gevers:
In this richly woven, highly dramatic, and in the end warmly romantic novella, Beth Bernobich paints an alternate Earth of Ruritanian atmosphere and suspenseful high danger. Here, Ireland, called Éireann, is the seat of a powerful empire, having resisted English rule and its infinite tragedies; here, Europe is split into many contending states, always intriguing, always fencing; here, savants are investigating methods of altering the current of Time, threatening the fabric of history itself. As reality quivers at its roots, as a deadly conspiracy seeks to plunge the continent into war, Éireann’s best agent is dispatched to the Balkans, to probe a network of treachery and murder that could evolve into something far worse.
For those playing along, this is a follow-up story to my Asimov's and Postscripts novelettes, "A Flight of Numbers Fantastique Strange" and "The Golden Octopus." Fred-the-Plot-Guy has kindly shared with me the information that there will be one more story to the Éireann series.
He turned it in yesterday. (24 pages.)
His grade was 97, with many compliments from the teacher written in the margin.
I'm pleased, not just with the grade and the paper itself (which I read), but with how he handled the research, writing, and editing. Also, how he planned out his work to finish on time. This bodes well for his college years.
** Odd, but Nick didn't even mention the scene where Adrian Dee gets barefoot and shirtless. I would think this is a major selling point, no?
ARS MEMORIAE (PS Publishing) should be available July/August. Alas, I won't have a copy in time for Readercon, but I might have a cover flat to show off.
FOX & PHOENIX is going out on submission Real Soon, my agent assures me. Once it does, I can shift to a different level of worry.
Am currently printing out the opening chapters for QUEEN'S HUNT. Readers report they are almost done reading, so I should have their comments soon.
This algorithm performs a calculation for peak areas. Areas for singlet regions are calculated using the summation method (i.e., S = G - B) wherease multiplet region areas are calculated using a non-linear least squares fit.
Usually they send the text to one of the German offices, but they decided it would be quicker to keep the work in-house. We have lots of fluent French speakers and a number of native Russian speakers, but apparently I'm the only one with any German at all.
This should be interesting.
Time for backups and sending copies out to the kind readers who volunteered.
*falls over ded*
1. a current of air, often caused by faulty construction or other unperceived opening(s) in a closed space. See drafty.
2. a particular version of a manuscript, as in She is working on the first draft of her latest novel; also, a document containing numerous plot holes, thus exposing the story to the reader's disbelief.
Her first warning was the sight of two armed soldiers outside her door.
Both men immediately glanced in her direction. Faint light from an open door at the opposite end of the corridor cast their faces in shadows. Then one man rested his hand his sword. The movement sent a ripple of sunlight over the metals studs of his leather glove.
Ilse continued forward, her heart skipping to a faster beat as she took in more details. Royal insignias. Full armor despite the heat. Someone important, then. Given a few moments, she could probably guess the identity of her visitor. She laid a hand on the latch to her door, felt the warmth of recent magic, the hint of a signature she almost recognized, and entered.
Inside a tall man dressed in a dusty drab cloak stood behind her desk. He held a paper in one hand. A dozen more were scattered over the floor, as if he'd tossed them to one side. A wide-brimmed hat shaded the man's face, but Ilse felt a faint stir of fear. Something about his height, the dismissive manner with which he flicked aside the paper. and took up another.
Markus Khandarr, King's Mage and chief councilor, glanced up. "Mistress Ilse Zhalina. Formerly Mistress Therez of Melnek. Good day."
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