Kristin Cashore's Blog, page 48

Stockholm Public Library

In case you're wondering why I haven't even been in Stockholm for two whole days and am already posting more pictures of the city than I did on my entire domestic tour combined, it has to do with time, space, opportunity, and breathing room. On my domestic tour, the pace was hard-core, I was leaving for a new destination almost every day, and I spent every free moment resting. There was only one city where I had true hanging out time. If you remember my photos from then, you can guess which city it was: Seattle. That's just the way domestic tours are; it's the nature of the beast. In contrast, no one is going to expect you to come to Sweden for one day. Overseas, and when you're crossing a lot of international borders, the pace just naturally slows down a bit. Also, it's an opportunity to spend time with the people at your publisher, hang out with them, eat with them, get to know them, get to know a little about their country, so these things are built into your schedule. That's a very different objective from a domestic tour!

Today, between interviews, Matilda, my lovely PR representative at Semic, walked around with me and took me into the Stockholm Public Library. There's this very pretty round room that's hard to photograph – big, round things are hard to photograph! – but I did my best. (That's Matilda in the last picture. ^_^)

Tomorrow I fly early to Kristianstad.

Beautiful Stockholm

I haven't been taking many photos of Stockholm, because I realized quickly that my photos weren't doing this beautiful city justice. But here are a few, including some amazing skies yesterday evening. The blogger app doesn't let me organize the pictures, so they might be in a weird order.

The Blog, Jetlag Edition: Somewhere in the Air Between Amsterdam andStockholm

Delicious hot drink, get me through this day.

In Which I Pontificate in No Particular Direction

Last spring, while exploring Melbourne together, Rebecca Stead and I determined that we both have the same sense of direction. Namely, none. At one point, we stood on a street corner for some time, trying to figure out where we were and where we were going. Finally, satisfied that we'd worked it out and pleased to be in agreement, we both set off, all enthusiasm -- and crashed straight into each other.

This is a post about trying to find what you're looking for. And stuff like that.

I live in a city, and most of the places I travel to these days are cities. But I grew up in the Pennsylvania countryside, in the middle of nowhere. I went on long walks through uninhabited spaces and I saw strange things. A coyote crossed my path. A snake chased me once! One foggy morning I was walking down my own road and a gray horse suddenly appeared on the road before me, riderless, unsaddled and unbridled, completely alone. Of course it wasn't a wild horse – it had escaped its pen – people's cows and pigs got out now and then, but this was the first time I'd ever encountered someone's horse this way.

My parents don't live in my childhood town anymore. This means that I don't have my default middle-of-nowhere place to go to anymore, and it's only occurred to me recently how antsy it makes me never to go to the middle of nowhere. In a book-release year, I don't have a lot of time for middle-of-nowhere trips. Therefore, I asked a friend recently for recommendations of nature-ish places that are an easy drive from Boston, and a couple weeks ago, I perused the list, then decided to go to the DeCordova in Lincoln.

The DeCordova is a museum with an outside, tree-filled sculpture park, plus lots of woods nearby with unmarked and unadvertised entries and paths. I'd been there once before, years ago, with a couple of friends, K and J; K went for a run in the woods while J and I visited the museum. So I knew there was a way to get into the woods. But I couldn't remember how, and for some reason, it didn't occur to me that there were probably 30 people I could've e-mailed or called to ask, NO, I was determined to be self-reliant, which means that I arrived at the museum in a slightly unsettled state of mind, suspicious about this sculpture park and prepared to be mutinous – mutinous! – if it was the sort of thing where they were going to try to convince me I was in a natural space when actually the nature was human-designed. Orderly trees, the way they are when humans plant them. Orderly stones, the way they are when humans place them. I wanted real nature, I wanted chaos. I am from the middle of nowhere! I know the difference between pretend chaos and real chaos! DAMN THE DECORDOVA! IT WASN'T GOING TO WORK ON ME!

Then I walked into a forest where knights had died in a battle and understood that I'd had it all wrong.


Click on any pic to enbiggen.
The DeCordova is not trying to pretend that their human-designed nature isn't human-designed. The DeCordova is asking me to pretend.



I can do that.

Of course, it wasn't what I'd come looking for. But at least it made me less antagonistic about the likelihood of finding it.

Still uncertain how to find the trails into the woods, and still forgetting how easy it would be to call a friend and ask, I approached a staff member and asked the staff member instead. This person informed me that: the staff members of the DeCordova have no information about wooded trails; it would, of course, be irresponsible for staff members of the DeCordova to send patrons randomly traipsing into the woods; staff members of the DeCordova could get themselves into trouble with their supervisors if they did such a thing; nor could staff members of the DeCordova advise patrons as to how to find such information, should it exist.

Understanding this person perfectly, I pulled out my phone and did some googling. And I'm glad I did, because for your information, the trails start immediately at the back of the DeCordova parking lot. And in case the big bosses at the DeCordova want to know which staff person they should be punishing for his or her excellent nonverbal communication, here is a photo of the illustrious person who so guided me:



I was probably in the woods for three hours. I didn't see another soul -- astonishing for a city dweller, and such a blessed relief. Trees, dirt, fungus, rocks, water, birds, bugs: It was JUST what I'd been needing.

Though I still didn't find what I was looking for.

A few things happened in the woods. One is that I forgot to pay attention and got totally and utterly lost. This is fairly typical for me, but it wasn't worrying; if getting lost had been likely to create worry, I would've been more careful not to get lost; this is Eastern Massachusetts, not Maine, I had my phone, for goodness sake, I can walk forever, plus, I knew my ultimate goal was a point southwest. I was letting my thoughts wander. That's why I got lost. I was following my thoughts, instead of the afternoon sun.

That's the other thing that happened in the woods: lost, unconcerned about where I was, my thoughts and intentions wandered free. I became a finder and an observer.



I became a noticer. I noticed that even this most natural patch of woods showed signs of prior civilization.


I became a rememberer. I remembered that when I'm in Rome, which has absolutely no logic to its streets, I am never, ever lost; I always know where everything is. It's grid streets that confuse me; it's navigating by a map, instead of by a Sense of Where Things Are. I don't have a bad sense of direction. I have a different sense of direction. (RS, that's what we're going to tell people from now on. ^_^)

I became a realizer. I realized that of course I wasn't going to find what I was looking for in the woods. I don't even know what that is. What I'm looking for is the answer to the question, "What am I looking for?" It's a relief to realize you've been asking the wrong question.

Finally, the world synthesized itself around me, and instead of a middle-of-nowhere person chafing at the order of the city or a city person yearning for the chaos of the middle of nowhere, I became a person in the world. Because I remembered that cities have their own kind of chaos. And I remembered -- I saw all around me -- that nature has its own kind of order.





What are you looking for?

To send you on your way: here's some sunlight dancing on a spider web.

Fall Events in Europe and the US

This fall (starting next week! ACK!! Where is Bunter to pack for me!), I'm doing public events in Stockholm, Kristianstad, Madrid, and Paris. (I'll also be in Amsterdam, but I don't believe I'll have any public events there -- I'll come back and let you know if I do.)

I'll also be in Arlington, VA for NAIBA, in Austin for the Texas Book Festival, and at NCTE-ALAN in Vegas, yes, NCTE-ALAN is in VEGAS this year.

Dates and details:

STOCKHOLM, SWEDEN 
Thursday, 6 September, 17.00
I'll be signing at SF-Bokhandeln.
Address: Västerlånggatan 48.
http://www.sfbok.se

KRISTIANSTAD, SWEDEN
Saturday, 8 September, 11.00
I'll be a guest at the Bokfestival in Kristianstad and will be talking about fantasy-writing, answering questions from the audience, maybe doing a short reading from Bitterblue if there is time...
http://www.kristianstad.se/bokfestivalen

MADRID, SPAIN
Tuesday, 11 September, 19.30
I'll be meeting readers at Casa del Libro Gran Vía.
Address: Gran Vía 29, 28013 Madrid

PARIS, FRANCE
Friday, 14 September, 17.00-18.00
Book-signing at « Le Dernier Bar avant la Fin du Monde » with Deborah Harkness, author of A Discovery of Witches.
19 avenue Victoria 75001 Paris
01 53 00 98 95
http://www.facebook.com/DernierBar
There's more info (en français) about the Paris event here, including a contest for readers to win tickets to another event with Deborah, me, booksellers, bloggers, and journalists -- see the link.

ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA
Saturday, September 29
NAIBA Fall Conference
I will accept a Book of the Year Award for Bitterblue at the awards banquet.
Hyatt Regency Crystal City
2799 Jefferson Davis Highway
Arlington, VA 22202
http://www.newatlanticbooks.com/fall_conference.html

AUSTIN, TEXAS
October 27-28
I'll be at the Texas Book Festival in the State Capitol building. Details to follow.
http://www.texasbookfestival.org/index.php

LAS VEGAS, NEVADA
November 16-20
NCTE-ALAN Annual Conference
I'm on a fantasy panel with Todd Strasser (Kill You Last), Maggie Stiefvater (The Raven Boys), and Amy Gordon (The Shadow Collector’s Apprentice) on Monday, November 19 at 8:40AM. I'll also be doing a signing in the Penguin booth at some point -- details to follow.
http://www.ncte.org/annual

Bic For Her Ballpoint Pens

You guys, Bic has designed some pens just for women (attractive barrel design made in pink and purple), and the reviews (and tags) are really funny. My favorite so far is the "most helpful critical review," which is by a lumberjack who tried to use one by accident and met with disaster.

Thanks, Jess :)

On Setting Things Free

I've been playing chess on my phone during work hours. Initially, I started to do this because the writing I'm doing is kicking my heart around the room and I can only bear to work on it in small doses; a game of chess every 90 minutes or so stabilizes me and brings me back to base one, so that I can work on another small section of the book. But now I'm also playing chess because it's become fun. I've named my computer opponent HAL, of course, and set him to his easiest setting. By now I've practiced enough that I beat him pretty quickly every time, but I'm not content to increase his difficulty until I get to the point where I can understand every move he's making, and see the game unfolding a few more steps ahead of what I'm currently seeing.

It's weirdly like writing a book. Even when things are going okay, I feel like I'm trying to catch up, straining to understand, trying to contain something that's out of my control.

I've realized one of the reasons I love the Bourne narratives. It's because of that wonderful story we like to tell over and over in different ways: Man creates a machine (literal or metaphorical) in his image for the purpose of doing what man can do, but doing it better. Then man realizes the machine has gotten too powerful or has become a liability. Man decides to shut down the machine -- but man has created the machine too well. The machine is smarter and faster than man; like man, the machine wants more than anything to survive and was, in fact, made to survive; and though man created it, man can't destroy it. It's the most wonderful narrative paradox -- the HAL computer, the Cylons, the agents of Treadstone, Outcome and Larx -- we give things life, then expect that since we created them, we'll be able to control them. We're wrong.

And that's also like writing a book. Every time I set out to create a book, I convince myself that I know its parameters, challenges, capabilities, and heartaches. "I will be in charge," I tell myself. Then it gets a taste of what it means to be alive, grabs at life and roars into autonomy, and, when I try to cage it, kicks my ass forwards, backwards, and sideways.

Rather than trying to shut it down, I've decided to open myself to the heartache, be its facilitator, and see if I can't help us both get to a better place. But it's hard.

In the meantime, I'm keeping myself grounded by playing lots of chess with HAL.

Somehow, thinking of it that way is not comforting :).

Life is scary.

Carry on.

More Randutiae (Extra-Random Edition)

I'm proud to report that Bitterblue is a New Atlantic Independent Booksellers Association Book of the Year, along with Rules of Civility by Amor Towles (for fiction), Behind the Beautiful Forevers: Life, Death, and Hope in a Mumbai Undercity by Katherine Boo (for nonfiction), I, Too, Am America by Langston Hughes and illustrated by Bryan Collier (for picture book), and Wonder by R. J. Palacio (for middle readers). I'll be at the NAIBA Awards Banquet on September 29, as will artist Ian Schoenherr, who did the beautiful maps and illustrations.
With apologies for throwing this in with other things -- I wanted to be sure to blog the link, but am too depressed to say much -- writer David Rakoff died way too young on August 9. I'm going to miss his voice on This American Life so, so much. The show put together a beautiful episode in his honor. It aired last week. Warning: it's really sad.Laurie Halse Anderson is doing Write Five Minutes a Day this month -- with frequent (excellent) writing advice and prompts. Check it out.If the Vatican keeps up its usual crap, someday they're going to wake up and discover they're talking to an empty room.Beck's new album is unrecorded sheet music.Have you seen this deeeelightful performance of "Clap Hands" by Beck on SNL? The percussion is performed by a bunch of guys at a dinner table and there's a simultaneous marionette version. (Thanks, J, for the Beck stuff ^_^) The word "marionette" cannot appear on this blog without a plug for The Cashore Marionettes. Check the performance schedule and see if they're coming anywhere near you. And watch the excerpts; you won't believe them. (That's my dad's cousin Joe.) A recent favorite Scrabble word: "borty." Bort is a low-quality diamond used for cutting and drilling or as an industrial abrasive. This makes "borty" the adjectival form. I imagine it being used thus: "Have you seen her engagement ring? Is it fabulous?" "Hell, no. It's totally borty."

Advice to New Writers: Green Triangles Should Be Both Triangular and Green

Advice to new writers: don't worry too much about reader reactions that don't seem to be connected to what you were actually trying to do.

What do I mean by that? Well, say you produce a yellow square and put it out in the world and the reactions are like, "Oh my goodness! As yellow squares go, this is a lovely yellow square! Look at that gorgeous shade of yellow! Look at those four even sides! What a success this yellow square is!"

In the meantime, you're at work on your next project, and because it doesn't interest you to do the same thing over and over, this time you're creating a green triangle. You work really hard. When you can see that it has become a lovely green triangle, you put it out in the world.

The reactions you start to receive are along the lines of, "Oh NO! This is the WORST YELLOW SQUARE EVER! This writer tried to produce another yellow square but the result was failure."

People will confuse their expectations with your intentions and with the quality of your work. This will happen. So you need to keep hold of what your own expectations/goals were. And there will always be people who know how to judge a book for what it is, not what they were hoping it would be; comfort yourself with those responses. There will also be people who, despite expressing disappointment that you went in a different direction (which is a perfectly fair reaction!), will know better than to assume you missed your mark -- people who won't conflate their disappointment with your failure -- people who are conscious of what they themselves are bringing to a reading. These responses can be comforting, too.

In the end -- and I mean this 100% -- what matters is what you think of your book. Don't get me wrong, this can change based on the intelligent commentary of others. Speaking personally, criticism by others has absolutely helped me to see my own books more clearly, in all their flaws. But don't forget that some of the people who express reactions to your books will actually be judging a green triangle as if it is a failed attempt at a yellow square. Those criticisms hurt, but they're not actually relevant to your process. It's safe to let them go.

By the way, when I showed this post to a few friends, one of them asked me if it was spurred by a criticism she's seen about Bitterblue, namely, that it fails as a romance. It wasn't. I don't think I could get worked up enough about criticism of my own books to write a blog post about it (plus, I think it's kind of tacky when authors do that). No, what spurred this post was a dreadful review I read of a wonderful book by someone else, a review that was completely off the mark and seemed to reveal a lot more about the reviewer than it did about the book. But I suppose this blog post could have been about Bitterblue. I would have to agree that it fails as a romance. Here are some other things it fails as: Historical fiction. True crime. Poetry. Time travel. Cook book. Instruction manual for flying a helicopter. Seriously, it's like the worst helicopter instruction manual EVER.

Confident that I've beaten my point into the ground, I'll stop now :)

Jason Who? Give Me Aaron Cross

This post contains spoilers for the Bourne movies, including the most recent.

So. I don't know what they're lacing these Bourne movies with, but (with the exception of that godawful, boring, too-long car chase in the second movie) I never want these movies to end. It turns out that the drug is not in fact Matt Damon, because The Bourne Legacy (out now), which doesn't even have Matt Damon in it, has the same effect on me. Aaron Cross, you are the genetically-modified assassin OF MY HEART. But why, why? WHY do I love these movies? They are chock-full of ideological problems. (In TBL, we get to see some kickass operatives who are people of color and even one who's a woman, and then, three minutes later, they're all dead. Producers, you have a captive audience. Make your main star in one of these movies someone who is not a white man.) Also, the plots are absurd. (Aaron Cross is a genetically modified/enhanced black-ops assassin for the US government, but he's run out of his daily genetic-modification medication, and if he doesn't break free of the US government, escape being murdered by same, and, with the help of the Beautiful Scientist Lady, find a way to solve his medication problem, he will revert to the low-IQ, less-kickass person he was before. THAT IS THE ACTUAL PLOT). Nonetheless, I am thinking of canceling the rest of my life so that I can keep going back to see this movie.

I will say that what the writers did with the romantic interest in this one is, IMO, world's above the situation with Marie Kreutz in the earlier movies, Jason's movies. Dr Marta Shearing, played by Rachel Weisz, is more than an accessory + plot device. In fact, she even saves Aaron's ass various times in ways that are human and believable. Whereas he, of course, saves hers in numerous ways that are superhuman and unbelievable. This interplay -- the regular person and the superhero taking care of each other -- becomes one of the foundations of what feels like a surprisingly almost-even friendship. This is SO much more interesting to me than the same old crap over and over. I have a glimmer of hope that if there are future movies, Dr Shearing might actually be allowed to live. Let's not get into what a sad state of affairs it is that that would be a victory... it would be particularly awesome if she were not only allowed to live, but allowed to continue being actively important to the proceedings.

Getting back to the enchantment these movies have cast over me... I think the music is partly to blame.

Have y'all seen the Vivaldi/Bourne mashup by The Piano Guys?