Friday Hangovers

  • Max’s Year in Reading series has been outstanding on the whole, but I am absolutely delighted by today’s installment: Freddy Krueger.
  • J.L. Bell has begun a series of thoughtful posts in reaction to the New Yorker’s "Twilight of the Books" article. So far, there are two: "Next Slide Please" and "Twilight of the Bard?"
  • Erin’s Year of Links.
  • Covetable wallpaper.
  • The pleasures of fantasy languages. I wish my mind worked that way.
  • Laini Taylor on The Golden Compass movie vs. book and her disappointment with the adaptation (which is worth reading regardless of your feelings for her typically fabulous write porn commentary). I must confess–and I realize this completely jettisons my credibility on a number of levels–that I hadn’t read the Pullman trilogy and waited to do so until after seeing the movie on purpose. Not having read the book(s), the movie worked pretty well for me–and, yes, I immediately read it. And loved it.* (Now I’m reading The Subtle Knife. And Peter Cameron’s excellent Someday This Pain Will Be Useful to You.) Anyway, the thing I think is made so clear in contrasting the film and the book with each other is the difference between novel logic and movie logic. Movie logic is never going to truly work for a story as complex as The Golden Compass, because that’s not its nature. So, they have to simplify things–little things, big things, almost EVERYTHING–and there’s a lot that’s lost with a story like this, in that simplification. But GREAT eye candy and I enjoyed the hell out of it while watching (and wasn’t confused by it at all). I want an armored bear!
  • Steve Erickson interviewed at Bookslut.
  • Matt Cheney has a question for the hive mind about kids and reading that I think you guys can help him out on: A couple of parents asked me for recommendations of places where their kids could find out about books they might like. No answer came to mind, because I’ve never looked at the sorts of websites or resources that kids might look at, and I honestly wouldn’t even know where to begin. … I’d particularly love to know if there are any teen-oriented blogs out there that ever talk about books, particularly blogs by teens themselves. If you were (or are) a teenager, what sorts of resources would help you discover books you might like?
  • Glowing kitties! (Via Maud.)
  • I’m feeling antsy and too plugged in lately, so I have no idea what the future holds for this space. It’ll probably pass though, so, likely, more of the same.

*On our flight into Austin there was this really awkward moment where the incredibly blond, incredibly tidy flight attendant–who had already been supermean to the poor guy next to me when he wanted more ice–leaned over and said, "What do you think of the book? Let me see how far you’re in." I showed her. "Oh, you’re almost done. So, what do you think about all the things people are saying about it?" I couldn’t tell where she was going, but was deadly afraid it was the whole anti-religion thing. "Um, I think it’s a cracking good fantasy adventure story," I said, and yes, it’s more, but I was walking the fine line here. "Exactly! I loved all three and they are wonderful fantasies. That’s what I’ve been telling all the parents on my flights–let your kids make up their own minds!" Sometimes, humanity still has the capacity to surprise in the good way.

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Catch-up

I have a cold. It comes and goes. For Christopher, it just stays, so I’m not complaining (too loudly). And we haven’t even begun to Xmas shop yet. But a post on recent writing stuff, anyway…

Spring_turkey_bwTurkey City 2007.
For those of you who don’t know, the Turkey City Writer’s Workshop is, to quote the home page, "a long-running Texas science fiction institution," held in Austin. It is, of course, the genesis of the infamous Turkey City Lexicon. When Chris Nakashima-Brown graciously invited Christopher and me to attend this year’s incarnation as guest workshoppers, we immediately said yes. (Or it would have been immediate, were I better at keeping up with the e-mail.) Plus, any excuse to impose on Maureen’s hospitality is thoroughly welcome.

The thing that makes Turkey City a bit different than the usual workshop is that it takes place over one day. The format involves spending the hours up to lunch reading everyone’s stories (we had 12, I believe, a few of which came a day or two in advance via e-mail), grabbing lunch, then indulging in the standard Milford-style critique circle until every last story’s been given the royal treatment. It’s kind of like Survivor: Workshop. Sounds brutal and hellish, I know, and, well, it is brutal, but thankfully not so much with the fiery torture. We didn’t see a whole lot of TC’s legendary acid and scrappy critique stylings, for which I’m grateful. Instead, we read a bunch of really good stories and had very cogenial discussions about how to make them better. I got some excellent feedback on my novel’s opening. Afterward, there’s a party, which was fun (if sort of a blur due to the complete and utter exhaustingness of the day). (C-Nak’s house, btw, is basically the coolest pad in the world.)

The next day we slept in, then went for a delicious lunch at local staple Las Manitas Avenue Cafe. After that, we paid a visit to the extremely excellent Harry Ransom Center to see the current exhibits; one was about the trend for costumes and staging in Victorian photography (including a whole bunch of Lewis Carroll’s stuff that I’ve loved for ages), the other about Arthur Miller’s theater and featuring some amazing letters written during the McCarthy era about his refusal to name names. Christopher and I both had our pictures snapped in the interactive part of the Victorian exhibit and they can be seen at those links–we’d have done something more interesting if we hadn’t been so wiped. Then on to Book People, where I overindulged in the stupendously wonderful children’s and teen section. (Seriously, best staff recommendations and selection EVER. What a great bookstore.) Airport, ice cream, hellish flying experience that at least involved free booze from the flight attendant, and home home home. Needless to say after this report, Maureen and Chris are the best hosts around.

ScrivenertitleRevision. & Again.
Yes, we all love Scrivener. I’m finding it’s really and truly worth its weight in gold (or more, actually, because it probably doesn’t have a weight in gold) as I go into revision mode. Not that it’s not wonderful during composition, but it seems there are so many functions I’m only discovering now.

Which is a short way of saying that things will probably continue to be sporadic around these parts until next year. My intention is to turn around the major revision of Monster Nation in the next month or so (I leave for my next MFA residency January 13, and more on the First Year of the MFA soon), which will be lots of work. I’m working on my revision outline the rest of this week and then will dive into it. Luckily, as I said, Scrivener makes rearranging and tweaking your story spine and managing the overall task of stuff so much more intuitive. This is a very good thing. Then, I’ll circulate it to some people and see what they think. (And start something else.)

Oh, revision, my favorite favorite part of the writing process. The part when you get to make stuff good.

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Tiptree-Worthy

Jamestiptree_2

A report on the lovely (& exhausting) time at Turkey City to come tomorrow, but for now I want to remind and ask you all to pleeease nominate works you feel might be worthy for this year’s Tiptree award* in the next couple of weeks. It’s very easy; just go here and/or send an e-mail to:

nominate07ATtiptreeDOTorg

Nominate now, nominate as much as you want. (And if you work for a publisher or magazine, please don’t forget to send us your books by the end of the year.) My fellow jurors and I thank you.

*If you don’t know the drill that’s "a science fiction or fantasy story or novel that expands or explores our understanding of gender."

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Random Hangovers

To close tabs… And as someone who just sent 90 incredibly rough pages of fiction, two essays, an annotated bibliography and a letter via the e-mail to close out the semester, I can truly say: Boy, my arms are tired and I need a drink. This MFA stuff is not for wimps, I’m telling you. (And, please, for the love of all that exists, don’t start about how much harder real physical labor is. Please. That’s a different kind of hard.) And now we go to a workshop! (But there’s an after-party!)

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Just So You Know

If you are a Scrivener user and your dog accidentally (one hopes) deletes the climactic chapter of your much-slaved-over novel while you’re revising by hitting her big old nose on the delete button, all is not lost. It’s in the Trash folder. Along with everything else you’ve ever deleted. Do not empty the trash.

Ever.

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Some Hangovers

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First Lines

Every year I do this meme, and every year I forget entirely how boring my first sentences of each month turn out to be. (Via Maureen, this year, whose blog is awesome no matter what she says.) To mix things up, I’m also going to add the last sentence of the last entry for each month (except this one, natch).

January:
(first) Y’all light up my life and I hope 2007 has only the best in store for you (and me).
(last) Raise hell. Now that’s a legacy.

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Ear(gasm*)

While we were in Jamaica, I thought of the Banana Boat Song not at all, which is odd since it’s classic and Jamaican and we indulged in more than a drink of rum. (We were also doing quite a bit of the work all day — Holly has tallied the group result at two novels, plotting and outlining for two more, a short story written, and several other short stories started — plus, a proposal thing was finished in addition to all that, I believe.)

But, beginning at the airport, I now can think of no other song. I hum it, and sing a few bars, and I’m pretty sure it’s holed up deep in my ear canal, like seawater in some other people‘s. I guess the only thing to be done is add Beetlejuice to the Netflix queue.

*With apologies to Maureen; I just couldn’t help myself.

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Happily

It seems that the Old Hag (aka Lizzie Skurnick, for you whippersnappers) has kicked off Jezebel’s new column Fine Lines on beloved* children’s and YA titles with "Are You There, Crazy Psychic Muse? It’s Me, Lois Duncan." The result is fabulous, but not for the faint-hearted or overly reverent.

Oh, oh, oh and Literaticat has interviewed Daniel Pinkwater.

Thank you Internets for not disappointing me upon the return to the land of wireless.

*Presumably for a couple different values of beloved, including "it seemed like a good idea at the time."

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