Andy Duncan has a shiny new blog. Sure to be high-larious, if his personality and his entry about the Maryland state song are any indication. (Via Jeff Ford.)
And psst: check out the online classroom discussion for his class on 21st century fantasy.
People talk about voice and style, and I have no clue what they’re talking about. “Find your voice!” they say.
Screw that. I’m working on my secret code.
Today the postal service brought a galley of Elizabeth Hand‘s Saffron and Brimstone: strange stories from M Press, which made me very, very, very happy. (This is an expansion of her award-winning collection from PS Publishing, Bibliomancy, which we were never quite able to get our hands on, so double yay.)
Earlier this week, Gwyneth Jones sent along copies of Bold As Love and Castles Made of Sand, which also made me very, very, very happy. Both these packages were the best kind of suprises.
And we went to the bookstore, with me whining, but I don’t want any more books, I really feel ill about it, but I have too many great books sitting at home, I don’t even want to buy any more today. So, I picked up Rachel Cohn & David Levithan’s Nick & Nora’s Infinite Playlist the moment I saw it, bought it immediately, without thought, and started it right away. Oh, you know how most people write about music and it’s just cringe-inducing? It’s just dancing about architecture? This book just nails it; starts out with the titular Nick playing bass in a club and SELLS it. The antithesis of cringing. (And I’m now obessed with tracking down everything Levithan’s ever written — if someone sent me a copy of Wide Awake I would pledge undying devotion. Or something.)
(I also almost bought Annette Kurtis Clause’s Freaks: Alive on the Inside! (title – eh, but freaks! and Blood and Chocolate is fab). But we have an ER bill coming. So maybe next time.)
And I’ve been reading The King’s Last Song. So so so good. There are few writers whose work, no matter what it is, instantly makes me fall in love. Geoff Ryman’s one of them. (Karen Fowler and Kelly Link are two others. Christopher, of course. Eduardo Galeano. I should probably make a real list. But suffice to say there are a very few that don’t seem capable of disappointing me.)
Happy reading.
ps Finished this entry after drinking wine and soaking in pollen outside. Important to note in case of incoherence. ‘Night.
I don’t often give out writing advice here, becasue I doubt anyone wants to hear it, but here’s some: choose honesty over cleverness and coolness. Cleverness and coolness are quicksand that will kill you and your writing. There is always someone more clever, someone more cool, but there is no one who can be honest exactly like you can becasue there is no one who’s seen exactly what you’ve seen. Don’t be so scared of being a schmuck, or of making you characters schmucks. Don’t have people "lament" or "bemoan" when really, they’re whining. Never let your characters "inhale the smell of a fine book," and don’t even think about telling me you’ve done it yourself. Old books smell dirty and sweaty; it’s not something you want to inhale. You don’t stop loving old books, you just start describing them as what they are: dirty and smelly. Instead of trying to be clever and smart, you try to be honest. If you choose honesty, you will succeed even if you fail; but if your goal is to be clever and cool, you will fail at having done anything worthwhile even if you succeed.
Drag me away. There are some beautiful photos from photographer John Hockensmith’s new book Gypsy Horses and the Travelers’ Way: The Road to Appleby Fair up online accompanying this article. (I can’t vouch for the writing, but I’ll probably go hear his talk this weekend.)
Wednesday Hangovers Read More »
So, over the past few days I’ve been slowly unsubscribing to LJ feeds on bloglines and friending people so I can read all the LJs I track on the so-called "Friends" page on the account I started over there awhile back to be able to comment on people’s entries. Mostly, this started because my number of feeds in bloglines was getting too huge; it’s quicker to read you guys this way AND, more importantly, I can see how many comments an entry has. If you’re wondering why I suddenly friended you, that’s why. (And there will be more friending to come!)
Now I need help. I’ve set an arbitrary deadline of the last day of summer to get a first draft done of Aztec Dance Tunes. And I want to keep a progress diary over there at the LJ annex, because I don’t want to do it here. It’ll only be a couple of times a week, maybe three, but what I must, must, must have is one of those little progress bars you LJ lot are always showing off. But I am clueless as to where one gets the code for this and googling has turned up nada. So help me. There or here.
Updated: Got it! That was fast. Thanks, Jason!
Help Me LJers (Updated) Read More »
Thanks to all who have called, written and commented with good thoughts — Mr. Rowe says thanks muchly (from his hugely swollen mouth area); it’s more cheering than you know. He’s now settled down on the couch doing what the convalescing should. No, not singing "Convalescing in Spain" ("Perhaps this is the best part"): watching movies (you could probably guess, but yes, it’s LOTR). Tomorrow he has finals. Keep your fingers crossed for upright test-takingness.
Meanwhile, four happier things:
Well, we spent seven hours at the ER last night (Saturday night at the ER — we saw a guy get a three inch knife taken out of his chest right in front of us!) waiting for Mr. Rowe to get treated for the results of a pretty nasty bicycle crash. He is not, as they say, resting comfortably, but he is pain-medicated and resting and will be fine. He has new stitches, will get a trip to the dentist tomorrow (not in the Veronica Mars sense), and has a hugely awful amount of soft tissue swelling around his throat. Pray for gentle billing; welcome to the world of uninsured students. And it’s finals week!
Needless to say, there’s a helluva lot of busy going on here, so expect radio silence.
Accidental Saturday Read More »
