Gwenda

Monday Hangovers

  • Happy Monday! As you can see (unless you're reading this in a feed reader), I did a little simplification makeover on the site over the weekend. This is because I'm all caught up on everything, have nothing to do…or the opposite of that, really. At some point I probably need to undertake a more elaborate spruce, but for now: Voila!
  •  Haven't seen Prometheus yet, but very much enjoyed Chuck Wendig's analysis of its story lessons
  • Stephanie Perkins with links to all the best commencement addresses. Motivational fuel.
  • If you're in the Seattle area this June and July, you'll want to catch the Clarion West reading series. Here's the full schedule, featuring Connie Willis, GRRM, Kelly Link and Gavin Grant, and others.
  • I suspect everyone has already seen the divine Beth Revis's wonderful, smart post on responding to negative reviews, but just in case. Snippet: "If there are people in the world who hate puppies, Harry Potter, chocolate, and/or bacon, then there are people in the world who hate your book. Put in that perspective, things aren't so bad, huh?"
  • The fascinating story of Dorothy Parker's ashes at the Rumpus.
  • My editor pointed me to this little primer post on Roanoke (and other mysterious things) at The History Girls, "Lost Colonies and Phantom Towns," inspired by the recent finding in one of John White's maps. I continue to be nerdily happy about that. (I'm telling you, people, alchemy is next.)
  • And, finally, the Summer Blog Blast Tour author interview bonanza is just kicking off. I'm putting the full schedule behind the cut. Check them out or be sorry.

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Page 77 Tease & A Giveaway

There's a w-i-p meme going around, and so far I've seen it from Steph Burgis, Nora Jemisin, and Martha Wells, so hey, why not? The rules are:

1. Go to page 77 (or 7th) of your current ms
2. Go to line 7
3. Copy down the next 7 lines – sentences or paragraphs – and post them as they’re written. No cheating.

So, herewith, a little unedited taste of the gods book:

The tails of his suit jacket flapped in a gusty wind that ruffled the brown leaves above him. He swung his metal and bone cane in a slow circle, like he was out for a jaunt. But the casual air was fleeting. Gone entirely when he shook his head at her with forbidding disapproval, and stepped over so he stood in the center of the path, directly below the tip of the not-so-distant pyramid. His red eyes glimmered in the sun. He was blocking the way to Egypt House.

Kyra blinked, opening her mouth to alert Bree and Tam—

Oh, how I want to cheat and include the next line (and start rewriting!), but rules are rules.

I've also been remiss in not pointing out here that there's a supercool giveaway of a Blackwood pre-order being run by Candace at Lovey Dovey Books (who also did this great review of the book that made me grin like an idiot). If it gets up to 2,000 entries (!!!) she's going to throw in something extra special, so spread the word.

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Whirlwinded (AKA, The Official Research-A-Palooza And BEA Report)

We set out late-ish Friday on the open road, or at least the interstate, armed with more books than we'd need and a big bag of snacks from the coop (dried mango, sesame sticks, trail mixy stuff, granola bars–you never know when you might have to trade organic food for gas or your life, so we were well-prepared) and several sets of maquest directions for the Epic Road Trip, June Edition. Such an epic drive seems to demand an epic post filled with parenthetical asides.

The first leg of the trip, of course, was Washington, D.C. ::pause during which we all sing the Magnetic Fields song, yet again:: And that's well photo-documented, because I was taking lots of reference photos. The ones on Flickr mostly aren't those, because I'm thinking tile patterns and trim would be…boring. Although they were fun to take. For example, I kept getting trapped on elevators at the Library of Congress photographing the detail above the doors. Many strange looks were given, including several from Christopher, who had to stand waiting for me to make the return trips. But at least I wasn't being mocked by this guy:

Pan

Anyway, I can't go into specifics just yet, but all this relates to the book that's due next month, which is set in an alternate version of D.C. More details on that coming, including a title…as soon as we settle on a good one. (Non-breaking news: Titles are HARD.) And we managed to see writer friends who live in the area–Craig Gidney and Jess Leader–which is always an excellent thing.

Then it was on to NYC–or, in reality, to New Jersey, where our hotel was–for BEA. We got in on Monday night, schlepped over to Penn Station and headed into town for the evening. Our first stop was meeting up with Genevieve Valentine, who we really can't ever see enough of, for drinks and dinner. Well, Christopher and Genevieve had dinner, and tempted me to eat bites of their delicious foodstuffs. Then we got The Best Cupcakes at Kyotofu, after Genevieve convinced me I could get mine in a container for later. Cupcake-for-Later = GENIUS when you have to take a train back out to New Jersey late at night. Super city-navigatrix Genevieve and Christopher then escorted me to my other dinner, and headed off to the Bookrageous party, followed by an exodus to a bar where they saw an actual fight. Literary fisticuffs were in the air, people. (Actually, the fighters weren't lit types. But still.)

Meanwhile I got to have the most fabulous dinner with Best Agent Ever Jennifer Laughran (alias: Literaticat) and a few of her other clients, Fiona Paul (aka Paula Stokes), Jo Whittemore, and Kate Messner. Here's a photo Jo had the waiter–who turned out to be a comic book fan, with good taste no less (Grant Morrison's run on Doom Patrol!)–take of us, in which it becomes apparent that I must have supernatural eye laser powers:

Dinner
(Alas, I ditched the camera for the New York leg, so I have no pictures of my own.)

This was so much fun, I can't even. I'd have dinner with this group of ladies every night of the week. We closed the place down.

And then it was Tuesday, the first day of BEA.

Here's the thing about BEA: It can be soul–and feet–crushing if you let it…because it's a trade show. And trade shows are innately depressing. It is best looked at sideways and traversed quickly with an eye toward finding the people you want to see. I also pick up as little swag as possible (in fact, this time around nothing), because books are heavy and my bag already weighs a bazillion pounds. (Though I do wish Chronicle still gave away those great notepads from lo many BEAs ago, because I finally ran out.) (See also: Emily Gould's account for the Awl, which is both funny and accurate.) What saves BEA, of course, and makes it still fun is that while it's (yes) a trade show, it's a trade show for books. Which means there are lots of book people there–booksellers, publicists, editors, agents, sales reps, authors, bloggers, industry reporters–and book people really are the loveliest people. Plus, they understand that the grimness of a trade show is directly proportional to the amount of free booze (and parties) on offer.

And so while I understand the complaints about BEA and, oh boy, the terrible awfulness of the Javits Center, I also enjoy it. This year was my best time to date, although I missed seeing and meeting a bunch of people I'd have liked to because I was rarely on the floor and lower level cell service should be studied by black hole experts. But I did get to spend decent chunks of time with several people–Micol Ostow and Melissa Walker, Laura Miller (even better in person), and my PW editor Dick Donahue (who I'd never met, though we've been working together for years now). Sheila Ruth kindly invited me to grab post-show drinks with a group of bloggers; it was nice to hang out with people I've 'known' for so long online, like Sheila and Pam Coughlan.

Because I'd already bumped into my editor Amanda Rutter (who is ABSOLUTELY WONDERFUL AND AMAZING–more on that in a moment), I knew that Osprey's most excellent product manager John Tintera had a Blackwood ARC for me…and so I was prepared and didn't burst into tears when he produced it at drinks.

BARC

You really can't see the beautiful shine to it in this photo, so I'll try to take a better shot later for proper admiration. (I hear the UK ARCs are matte, btw. I'm glad my book is getting the best of both ARC worlds.)

This was all followed by some of the best Korean bbq (or Korean/Japanese fusion bbq, actually) I've EVER ever had with Amanda and John, who I could go on and on about the sheer wonderfulness of. Just let me say, I can't imagine better folks to be working with. *happy sigh* (Christopher was off at a Liberty game, having his own fun.)

The next morning was meetings at Javits, and while "meetings at Javits" may sound like a circle of hell, in practice it was lovely, because aforementioned book people were involved in them. I was lucky enough to meet several of the sales team for Strange Chemistry here in the U.S.; a truly engaged, sharp, and delightful group. It was also the first time I've really gotten to talk about Blackwood with people who've read it (who I don't know, at least), and that was fun too. And I got to hear Amanda describe all the TERRIFIC-SOUNDING books on the list and the imprint's grand plans and bask in her savvy and clear passion for YA in general and Strange Chemistry in specific. *happy sigh dieux*

Also, the pirates from Bridge Publications randomly sat down at our table, mere moments after Olivia the Pig walked by. These two things would really only ever happen at BEA.

Christopher and I had a final lunch with Amanda and John, said our farewells, and returned to the open road, feeling a bit kamikaze about the eleven-hour drive ahead. It was mainly through beautiful mountain country, though–Maryland and West Virginia–and there was a spectacular sunset. We made it home around 3 a.m., having listened to what feels in retrospect like a thousand episodes of This American Life, Studio 360, Stephen Fry's Podgrams, and RadioLab. There are worse ways to spend eleven hours. There are definitely worse ways to spend six days.

And now I have a book to finish.

Final mapquest tally: 23 hrs 47 mins / 1453.25 miles.

Whirlwinded (AKA, The Official Research-A-Palooza And BEA Report) Read More »

Washington, D.C., Baby!

Did all the research (which meant hithering and thithering to doublecheck this and that, mostly), and this trip deserves a proper entry, but probably not until tonight…and maybe not until the end of the week. Tomorrow we head out for BEA in NYC, and a slam-and-jam-packed couple of days. In the meantime, have some goofing off (more SERIOUS photos–and goofing around–at the flickr account):

In Which Our Heroine Rides a Glittery Fantastical Beast

See you in New York? I can't wait.

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Excuse-Making!

Yes, this is one of those posts where I make the Whoops, I Disappeared admission and then admit that I'm probably going to be mostly MIA this week too. And that I'm still behind on email. Deep into this first draft, and juggling all the other things as well.

Also, I really need to get extra words written, because deadline swiftly approacheth and we decided to tack a couple of days of New York and BEA onto next weekend's quick research trip to D.C. for the aforementioned draft-in-progress, because, hey, why not? My editor is coming over from England, so it just makes sense.

Anyway, the plan is to be in NYC Monday and Tuesday, coming back home to rescue the dogs from Dog Jail on Wednesday. So if you're BEA-bound, hope to bump into you there.

And I'll try to manage some actual posts here next week. In the meantime, have a lovely holiday weekend.

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Tuesday Hangovers

(*crawls slowly back into writer cave* Behind on email, but hoping to catch up soon!)

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You Gotta Have Faith

I was honored to be polled by io9 on the following:

Everbody loves a good dark, horrible fantasy. A misanthopic adventure, in which everybody is morally compromised, and we all live and die in the dirt. But every now and then, it's nice to read a fantasy novel in which people are, you know… good.

So we decided to contact some of our favorite fantasy writers and editors, to get some recommendations for fantasy novels that are not just optimistic — but optimistic about human nature. This is just the first installment — we might have some more recommendations for you next week.

Go forth and read the first set of picks. (Spoiler: Mine was Bitterblue, and I say why over there.)

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Friday Hangovers

Let's close some tabs, shall we?

The-full-moon-rises-behin-010
Happy weekend, everybody.

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R.I.P.

The great, cranky genius Maurice Sendak has died at age 83.

Excerpt from a letter by Sendak's editor Ursula Nordstrom to a writer at the New Yorker on Where the Wild Things Are in 1964:

You asked me how "revolutionary" Where the Wild Things Are is. There have been a good many fine picture books in the past. (Some by Margaret Wise Brown, and illustrated by one of two or three or four talented artists.) But I think Wild Things is the first complete work of art in the picture book field, conceived, written, illustrated, executed in entirety by one person of authentic genius. Most books are written from the outside in. But Wild Things comes from the inside out, if you know what I mean. And I think Maurice's book is the first picture book to recognize the fact that children have powerful emotions, anger and love and hate and only after all that passion, the wanting to be "where someone loved him best of all."

And another from her letter responding to a librarian angry about The Night Kitchen's nudity in 1972:

I am indeed distressed to hear that in the year 1972 you burned a copy of a book. We are truly distressed that you think it is not a book for elementary school children. I assume it is the little boy's nudity which bothers you. But truly, it does not disturb children! Mr. Sendak is a creative artist, a true genius, and he is able to speak to children directly. For children—at least up to the age of 12 or 13—are usually tremendously creative themselves. Should not those of us who stand between the creative artist and the child be very careful not to sift our reactions to such books through our own adult prejudices and neuroses? To me as editor and publisher of books for children, that is one of my greatest and most difficult duties. Believe me, we do not take our responsibilities lightly! I think young children will always react with delight to such a book as In the Night Kitchen, and that they will react creatively and wholesomely. It is only adults who ever feel threatened by Sendak's work.

And, finally, some words from Sendak himself in a 2011 NPR interview:

"I have nothing now but praise for my life. I'm not unhappy. I cry a lot because I miss people. They die and I can't stop them. They leave me and I love them more. … What I dread is the isolation. … There are so many beautiful things in the world which I will have to leave when I die, but I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready."

CH25-image1
May we all be so lucky.

R.I.P. Read More »

Organization Fu

Sometimes I need a weekend that's about putting things back into their boxes, about cleaning and prepping and, yes, organization. I think organization may be my superpower these days, or at least the only difference between feeling like things are under control and manageable or are off the rails and spinning into chaos. (Of course, my brand of organization likes to leave a little room for chaos. Things tend to get stale fast without it.)

This is a summer of writing, both for me and Christopher. I don't know about you, but whenever I'm entering a big push on a project or starting a new phase on one, I go on a cleaning jag. This weekend involved major league office tidying, as well as starting new scrivener files so I wouldn't have visual "clutter" in the ones I'm working in, and some major shelving of TBR stacks. Christopher kindly spent all day yesterday assembling two new bookshelves (the leftmost one below, and another just like it) and we managed to get almost everything off the piano in the front room, the office shelf that's supposed to be for research only, and the guest room floor. Oh, the guest room floor piles, aka my hostess shame.

But now the guest room is looking good. No more piles, see? Come, friends.

Guest Room After 1

And despite all this busywork, I managed to get a good chunk of writing done on the projects I'm working on, one drafting and the other revising. I am hoping this pattern can hold for the next month or two. And I ran all the errands ever. Today started my getting back to early morning wake-up writing, at 6 a.m., which blessedly isn't pitch black at this time of year. Oh, sun, never leave.

Here's hoping you had a nice weekend, too.*

*We did not, however, manage to see The Avengers. And I still haven't seen The Hunger Games movie. Woe. WOE. Maybe next weekend.

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