Tim Akers's Blog, page 5
April 4, 2011
It is also my way to be awesome
I'm not even going to apologize for not posting since January. You read this blog, you know full well that I'm going to disappear for months at a time. It is my way.
I have been busy. I present this, not as an excuse for my absence, but merely as a note to mark the time. Our office moved, I finished Dead of Veridon, I did a lot of pondering about my writing career. These things have taken a lot of my attention. And I've begun a new writing project, about which I am alternately thrilled and terrified. I really don't know what to think about it yet; I just know how to do it. Anyway.
I'm reading a very curious book right now, about sword fighting. Medieval sword fighting, specifically, or at least the recreation of same. I will tell you one thing about this subject: It is *contentious*. The first half of the book is essentially a vitriolic screed against various other factions in the HEMA (Historic European Martial Arts) community, and their clearly uninformed opinions on such matters as the validity of parrying, the effect of a sword cut on the human leg, and the proper value of "cut training". Cut training is the practice of using high quality medieval reproduction swords to slice open various objects. The purpose is to learn the proper way to strike a limb, or jab a torso, or hack a skull. It's interesting. He even goes into some detail about how to set up mail clad targets, and the proper way to strike with a sword to sunder the mail.
There are two thoughts that come to mind. It seems to me that most of the people in this community like to play at swords, and to them gently tapping your biceps with a length of foam wrapped plastic pipe is sufficient. To the author of this book, the goal is to learn the martial art of Medieval Europe. I can understand his frustration with the former group. Completely. And they are two entirely different mindsets, so different, in fact, that proponents of one group are probably incapable of understanding the reasoning behind the other group's belief structure.
For example, some sparring groups disallow leg strikes. Others require that you go to your knees when struck in the leg. There are established teams whose fighting style actually improves once they've acquired the "ground position". Please, for one second, consider the idiocy of this. Even a glancing blow to, say, your calf with the kind of weapons we're talking about is going to nick bone. Imagine the meat damage of that. Now, imagine that you're an actual knight whose livelihood and, for that matter, life is dependent on being able to "hew" various things in "twain". I imagine actual knights performed a bit of cut training, don't you think? And, when called upon, would be more than capable of putting steel through meat, bone and mail. Now. Get on your knees and keep fighting.
You see the kind of vitriol this book contains. I like it, because I'm trying to get at the legitimate feel of medieval combat. A lot of the demonstrations I've seen have revolved around points and tapping. And you can't write about that.
I have been busy. I present this, not as an excuse for my absence, but merely as a note to mark the time. Our office moved, I finished Dead of Veridon, I did a lot of pondering about my writing career. These things have taken a lot of my attention. And I've begun a new writing project, about which I am alternately thrilled and terrified. I really don't know what to think about it yet; I just know how to do it. Anyway.
I'm reading a very curious book right now, about sword fighting. Medieval sword fighting, specifically, or at least the recreation of same. I will tell you one thing about this subject: It is *contentious*. The first half of the book is essentially a vitriolic screed against various other factions in the HEMA (Historic European Martial Arts) community, and their clearly uninformed opinions on such matters as the validity of parrying, the effect of a sword cut on the human leg, and the proper value of "cut training". Cut training is the practice of using high quality medieval reproduction swords to slice open various objects. The purpose is to learn the proper way to strike a limb, or jab a torso, or hack a skull. It's interesting. He even goes into some detail about how to set up mail clad targets, and the proper way to strike with a sword to sunder the mail.
There are two thoughts that come to mind. It seems to me that most of the people in this community like to play at swords, and to them gently tapping your biceps with a length of foam wrapped plastic pipe is sufficient. To the author of this book, the goal is to learn the martial art of Medieval Europe. I can understand his frustration with the former group. Completely. And they are two entirely different mindsets, so different, in fact, that proponents of one group are probably incapable of understanding the reasoning behind the other group's belief structure.
For example, some sparring groups disallow leg strikes. Others require that you go to your knees when struck in the leg. There are established teams whose fighting style actually improves once they've acquired the "ground position". Please, for one second, consider the idiocy of this. Even a glancing blow to, say, your calf with the kind of weapons we're talking about is going to nick bone. Imagine the meat damage of that. Now, imagine that you're an actual knight whose livelihood and, for that matter, life is dependent on being able to "hew" various things in "twain". I imagine actual knights performed a bit of cut training, don't you think? And, when called upon, would be more than capable of putting steel through meat, bone and mail. Now. Get on your knees and keep fighting.
You see the kind of vitriol this book contains. I like it, because I'm trying to get at the legitimate feel of medieval combat. A lot of the demonstrations I've seen have revolved around points and tapping. And you can't write about that.
Published on April 04, 2011 08:06
January 21, 2011
A task of light
It's amazingly cold today. The sky is that clear blue that makes you feel like the atmosphere has been scraped clean off the earth, and there's nothing above you but the stars and the moon and that deep, deep cold.
On the way to work this morning I heard an interview with a virtuoso violinist who is performing locally this weekend. Well. Most of an interview. The interviewer kept talking over him, and babbling on about how fascinating the things he was saying were, and then she'd play a "snippet" of his music which just served to remind you how much you'd rather be listening to him play, rather than her talk. And talk. Can you tell I've been working on my patience? Because I have.
Here's the important part: she finally got around to asking him 'what advice do you have for young musicians and their parents, just starting out?' And his answer kind of shocked me, and got me to thinking about writing.
He said "Enjoy it." I mean, that's a paraphrase. His long answer was something like "Do it because you're passionate about it, because it speaks to you and lets you speak to other people. Do it because it makes you a fuller person." And then he talked some about how there was a tiny bit of discipline involved to get over the initial unpleasant stuff, those first few years of learning to play and practicing while your family cringes politely around you, but once you're beyond that point it's just a matter of doing what you would naturally do.
At first I thought he was expressing typical British (because he's a Brit) understatement when he said "a tiny bit of discipline" but later I realized he was dead serious. That if you're having to apply huge sums of discipline to the task, if you're forcing yourself to do this every night, then what the hell are you doing? At least that's what he said to me.
That's contrary to a lot of what I've learned about writing in the last few years. Mostly because I'm not just writing, I have the day job and a busy social calendar (ha!) and I have to squeeze my writing time out increasingly smaller parts of my day. So until I'm able to more fully form my life around my writing, there will always be some element of discipline to the process. But that discipline needs to be supplemented by joy. Joy in the process, joy in the product, joy in the belief that what we're doing is making us better people. I did not enjoy writing the book I am writing right now, and I'm afraid that will show up in the final product. I'm sure it will. Whatever light there was in that work, I lost it in the scheduling.
So. I guess I'm rededicating myself to the joy of writing. Because otherwise, what the hell am I doing?
On the way to work this morning I heard an interview with a virtuoso violinist who is performing locally this weekend. Well. Most of an interview. The interviewer kept talking over him, and babbling on about how fascinating the things he was saying were, and then she'd play a "snippet" of his music which just served to remind you how much you'd rather be listening to him play, rather than her talk. And talk. Can you tell I've been working on my patience? Because I have.
Here's the important part: she finally got around to asking him 'what advice do you have for young musicians and their parents, just starting out?' And his answer kind of shocked me, and got me to thinking about writing.
He said "Enjoy it." I mean, that's a paraphrase. His long answer was something like "Do it because you're passionate about it, because it speaks to you and lets you speak to other people. Do it because it makes you a fuller person." And then he talked some about how there was a tiny bit of discipline involved to get over the initial unpleasant stuff, those first few years of learning to play and practicing while your family cringes politely around you, but once you're beyond that point it's just a matter of doing what you would naturally do.
At first I thought he was expressing typical British (because he's a Brit) understatement when he said "a tiny bit of discipline" but later I realized he was dead serious. That if you're having to apply huge sums of discipline to the task, if you're forcing yourself to do this every night, then what the hell are you doing? At least that's what he said to me.
That's contrary to a lot of what I've learned about writing in the last few years. Mostly because I'm not just writing, I have the day job and a busy social calendar (ha!) and I have to squeeze my writing time out increasingly smaller parts of my day. So until I'm able to more fully form my life around my writing, there will always be some element of discipline to the process. But that discipline needs to be supplemented by joy. Joy in the process, joy in the product, joy in the belief that what we're doing is making us better people. I did not enjoy writing the book I am writing right now, and I'm afraid that will show up in the final product. I'm sure it will. Whatever light there was in that work, I lost it in the scheduling.
So. I guess I'm rededicating myself to the joy of writing. Because otherwise, what the hell am I doing?
Published on January 21, 2011 06:29
January 10, 2011
Sealing up 2010
You may or may not have noticed this, but I haven't been posting much lately. This is mostly because of deadlines. 2010 was a complicated year, and we're well lodged into 2011, but I wanted to give a little meditation on the year that's passed and try to come up with some idea of what I'm going to carry over into the new year. Right.
Mostly, 2010 was about complications. Jen and I quite suddenly decided that we were going to build a house. We've been tossing around the next stage of our lives for years now, whether we were going to stay in the area or move somewhere else. Once we decided to stay locally, it was clear that we didn't want to stay in our current house. So, in the middle of one of the worst housing markets in recent memory, we sold our house and built a new one. Kind of like how, in 2009, I quit my long standing job and jumped to another company where I had no guarantee of long term success, right in the middle of the worst job crash in my lifetime. That's how I roll.
Part of the complication with the house stuff (other than building a house, writing the three largest checks of my life in quick succession, etc) was that we had to move twice. Blessedly, our house sold very quickly. Two and a half weeks quickly. And the new house wasn't going to be available for a long time, so we had to get a rental. Not just a rental, but a rental that would take an elderly dog and didn't mind that we were only going to be there for, like, four months. Those sorts of situations just fall out of the trees around here. Yeah.
But we found the right place. It was small, and we had to keep all of our furniture in it with the majority of our possessions stuffed into a storage unit. It was crowded, but we found a sort of simple peace in living there.
In the middle of all this, that company I jumped to began to disintegrate. Things are straightened out now, according to finance, but I have trouble believing it. I blogged about some of it then, but the easy summary is that my department lost about a third of its staff, and there were serious questions about whether the company would survive at all. I'm not convinced that we're out of it, because I still see a lot of the underpinnings in my daily job, and things haven't improved. We've just changed the way we accrue debt, and if the fundamentals are flawed then all you're doing is moving the disaster to another day. Anyway. Today I have job. Tomorrow, probably as well.
I think the last complicated thing that happened was I had a friendship collapse in fairly dramatic fashion near the end of the summer. It knocked me for a loop, especially on top of the strange living conditions and the job madness. I lost most of August and September to this kind of depressive static in my head, where I just couldn't produce anything of value, either creatively or socially. WFC was pretty much the final kick that got me out of it.
The real product of all of this is the writing schedule for Dead of Veridon went to hell. I was already having trouble writing the book, just thematically. I wrote Heart of Veridon almost three years ago, and I'm at the stage of my career where my ability and my style are still solidifying. I made a lot of decisions in the Veridon series about style and point of view that I wouldn't make today. I chose the noir style to clamp down on my usual florid wordiness, and the first person because I was having trouble getting into Jacob's head. Also, I wrote the early Veridon stuff while I was at a pretty consistently dark place. Considering the litany of trouble I've just unfolded for you, you'd think that would feed this kind of writing, but it didn't turn out that way. I'm just not as moribund as I used to be. I wouldn't call me a cheerful guy, but I'm different enough that getting into Veridon takes a mental shift that I'm not as good at, and frankly don't want to make on a regular basis. I'm happy that that isn't my natural state of mind anymore, and don't want to tour the old stomping grounds if I can avoid it. So I did a lot of avoiding. And then that depressive static kicked in, and I was hopeless.
The real upshot of all this is that while I wrote a lot of words on Dead of Veridon this year, I kept starting over because I wasn't writing something that I liked, or something that I thought was any good. I finally had to go head-down and just write, regardless of my schedule. So, uh, I've kind of written almost the entire book in the last two months. It's not done yet, but I got an extension and think I can finish it by the new date. Which is this weekend. And of course that's just a first draft, and there are some revisions in the early chapters that I already know need to be done, but it'll be "finished".
And see, in all this chaos I haven't even mentioned that I finished The Horns of Ruin in March, did edits while moving to the rental house, and it came out to much fanfare in November. Well. Fanfare in my head. And general fanfare. People seem to like it.
So the year ended. We're in our new house, I'm working like a maniac to finish Dead of Veridon, and I'm thinking about this new year. Here's what I'm thinking.
I want to have an uncomplicated year. Whatever that means. And I know we don't control the things that come into our lives, so I guess I'm just not going to intentionally do anything complicated. Not going to put off deadlines and make excuses because I have a lot of time, not going to worry about whatever happens in my job. Not going to build a new house, or ruin any friendships, take on any tasks that I don't think I can accomplish. This might be a year of reflection. Reflection, and writing.
So, happy new year to you. Live well.
Mostly, 2010 was about complications. Jen and I quite suddenly decided that we were going to build a house. We've been tossing around the next stage of our lives for years now, whether we were going to stay in the area or move somewhere else. Once we decided to stay locally, it was clear that we didn't want to stay in our current house. So, in the middle of one of the worst housing markets in recent memory, we sold our house and built a new one. Kind of like how, in 2009, I quit my long standing job and jumped to another company where I had no guarantee of long term success, right in the middle of the worst job crash in my lifetime. That's how I roll.
Part of the complication with the house stuff (other than building a house, writing the three largest checks of my life in quick succession, etc) was that we had to move twice. Blessedly, our house sold very quickly. Two and a half weeks quickly. And the new house wasn't going to be available for a long time, so we had to get a rental. Not just a rental, but a rental that would take an elderly dog and didn't mind that we were only going to be there for, like, four months. Those sorts of situations just fall out of the trees around here. Yeah.
But we found the right place. It was small, and we had to keep all of our furniture in it with the majority of our possessions stuffed into a storage unit. It was crowded, but we found a sort of simple peace in living there.
In the middle of all this, that company I jumped to began to disintegrate. Things are straightened out now, according to finance, but I have trouble believing it. I blogged about some of it then, but the easy summary is that my department lost about a third of its staff, and there were serious questions about whether the company would survive at all. I'm not convinced that we're out of it, because I still see a lot of the underpinnings in my daily job, and things haven't improved. We've just changed the way we accrue debt, and if the fundamentals are flawed then all you're doing is moving the disaster to another day. Anyway. Today I have job. Tomorrow, probably as well.
I think the last complicated thing that happened was I had a friendship collapse in fairly dramatic fashion near the end of the summer. It knocked me for a loop, especially on top of the strange living conditions and the job madness. I lost most of August and September to this kind of depressive static in my head, where I just couldn't produce anything of value, either creatively or socially. WFC was pretty much the final kick that got me out of it.
The real product of all of this is the writing schedule for Dead of Veridon went to hell. I was already having trouble writing the book, just thematically. I wrote Heart of Veridon almost three years ago, and I'm at the stage of my career where my ability and my style are still solidifying. I made a lot of decisions in the Veridon series about style and point of view that I wouldn't make today. I chose the noir style to clamp down on my usual florid wordiness, and the first person because I was having trouble getting into Jacob's head. Also, I wrote the early Veridon stuff while I was at a pretty consistently dark place. Considering the litany of trouble I've just unfolded for you, you'd think that would feed this kind of writing, but it didn't turn out that way. I'm just not as moribund as I used to be. I wouldn't call me a cheerful guy, but I'm different enough that getting into Veridon takes a mental shift that I'm not as good at, and frankly don't want to make on a regular basis. I'm happy that that isn't my natural state of mind anymore, and don't want to tour the old stomping grounds if I can avoid it. So I did a lot of avoiding. And then that depressive static kicked in, and I was hopeless.
The real upshot of all this is that while I wrote a lot of words on Dead of Veridon this year, I kept starting over because I wasn't writing something that I liked, or something that I thought was any good. I finally had to go head-down and just write, regardless of my schedule. So, uh, I've kind of written almost the entire book in the last two months. It's not done yet, but I got an extension and think I can finish it by the new date. Which is this weekend. And of course that's just a first draft, and there are some revisions in the early chapters that I already know need to be done, but it'll be "finished".
And see, in all this chaos I haven't even mentioned that I finished The Horns of Ruin in March, did edits while moving to the rental house, and it came out to much fanfare in November. Well. Fanfare in my head. And general fanfare. People seem to like it.
So the year ended. We're in our new house, I'm working like a maniac to finish Dead of Veridon, and I'm thinking about this new year. Here's what I'm thinking.
I want to have an uncomplicated year. Whatever that means. And I know we don't control the things that come into our lives, so I guess I'm just not going to intentionally do anything complicated. Not going to put off deadlines and make excuses because I have a lot of time, not going to worry about whatever happens in my job. Not going to build a new house, or ruin any friendships, take on any tasks that I don't think I can accomplish. This might be a year of reflection. Reflection, and writing.
So, happy new year to you. Live well.
Published on January 10, 2011 06:39
December 1, 2010
We call it the Meat Truck
There are a lot of nice things about my new house. One of those things is that, while we're right next to a light industrial park, the building directly across from us is a sausage manufacture. We are often greeted by the smell of smoking meat and spices when we step outside. It's pleasant.
But it has a cost. Every Wednesday morning at around 7:30, an unmarked tan garbage truck drives up to the back of the building and loads the slop. That is, all the stuff that is technically meat, but can't be made into sausage. Think about that. And it loads it by hauling the slop bin over its cab and dumping it into the back of the truck. This is what we watch, every Wednesday.
And we watch. Man, I wouldn't miss it. It's horrifying and disgusting and just...awful. But it's also fascinating. We can't hear it or smell it, but I have a sufficiently vile imagination that I can populate my own internal soundtrack of smacking and schlupping and slithering. And when it's done, there are still strips of the stuff that didn't quite land in the bin, hanging like meaty confetti off the cross bar of the truck.
You're welcome. Enjoy your lunch.
But it has a cost. Every Wednesday morning at around 7:30, an unmarked tan garbage truck drives up to the back of the building and loads the slop. That is, all the stuff that is technically meat, but can't be made into sausage. Think about that. And it loads it by hauling the slop bin over its cab and dumping it into the back of the truck. This is what we watch, every Wednesday.
And we watch. Man, I wouldn't miss it. It's horrifying and disgusting and just...awful. But it's also fascinating. We can't hear it or smell it, but I have a sufficiently vile imagination that I can populate my own internal soundtrack of smacking and schlupping and slithering. And when it's done, there are still strips of the stuff that didn't quite land in the bin, hanging like meaty confetti off the cross bar of the truck.
You're welcome. Enjoy your lunch.
Published on December 01, 2010 09:47
November 15, 2010
Now Serving
Amazon has The Horns of Ruin in stock. This is very exciting to me, for obvious reasons.
Published on November 15, 2010 11:40
November 14, 2010
This is a con. Where is the bar.
My WindyCon experience this year was kind of perfunctory. My only scheduled events were on Saturday, but I didn't know that until I already had Friday off. This is good, because I have a lot of writing to do, so I stayed home Friday and wrote. Unfortunately, that went terribly and I'll probably have to throw out the lot, but that's not the point. Sometimes you have bad writing days.
On to the Con!
I was able to convince Jen to attend with me this year, which was fun. She doesn't usually come out to these things, but we haven't seen much of each other recently because of my writing schedule, so it was nice. Plus she got to see me be an author.
My first event was a reading at 11am. In the past my readings have been poorly attended, simply because no one knows who I am and I always get an early slot. These things go hand in hand. But my usual retinue of people came out (four or five folks who come out to a lot of my stuff because they know me. If just they show up I have trouble getting the reading off, because we just sit and talk. It's weird to just read to your friends) and we had two others show up. After the reading one of these two had me sign a shirt from last year's convention (It was a steampunk theme. Jason Blaylock had signed. Scary.) and the other gentleman had a copy of Heart of Veridon to sign.
I think that's the first time someone has gone out of their way to get a signature on HoV. I mean, people brought copies to my signing last year, but again those were people I know. People I refuse to think of as fans.
Readings are tricky. It's the one time authors actually perform their work, and I don't think most authors put enough thought into it. I'm not the best at it yet (next year I will read while standing) but I do what I can. Rather than just present a chapter and then take questions, I pulled three selections from the first three chapters and read them, with some explication and packaging in between. I hadn't practiced the in between bits, though, so I kept remembering things I meant to say before, or explaining the bit I just read after I read it. Imperfect. But I think the form is good and I'm going to stick to it, probably with some more practice ahead of time. I was worried about the clock and then ended up with all sorts of time. There was Q&A, and then it was off to lunch.
Sat in the bar for a couple hours, ate lunch, drank with some friends. Emptiest con bar ever.
Second event was a panel called "Writing Despite the Day Job." I am qualified to be on this panel. I don't know what to say about it, other than it went well, I feel that the audience was engaged and entertained. Some difference of opinion on how to go about getting better. I think that you need to write your way out of writing groups, but that's something I've come to later in my career. Also, none of us are Thomas Wolfe or Stephen King. That doesn't make sense unless you were there. So be there next time.
Other stuff. Uh, there's a worldcon bid for London in 2014. I find that exciting, but in a very distant sort of way. And I had corn beef hash, scrambled eggs and hash browns for breakfast, then came home and took a long nap. Still recovering.
On to the Con!
I was able to convince Jen to attend with me this year, which was fun. She doesn't usually come out to these things, but we haven't seen much of each other recently because of my writing schedule, so it was nice. Plus she got to see me be an author.
My first event was a reading at 11am. In the past my readings have been poorly attended, simply because no one knows who I am and I always get an early slot. These things go hand in hand. But my usual retinue of people came out (four or five folks who come out to a lot of my stuff because they know me. If just they show up I have trouble getting the reading off, because we just sit and talk. It's weird to just read to your friends) and we had two others show up. After the reading one of these two had me sign a shirt from last year's convention (It was a steampunk theme. Jason Blaylock had signed. Scary.) and the other gentleman had a copy of Heart of Veridon to sign.
I think that's the first time someone has gone out of their way to get a signature on HoV. I mean, people brought copies to my signing last year, but again those were people I know. People I refuse to think of as fans.
Readings are tricky. It's the one time authors actually perform their work, and I don't think most authors put enough thought into it. I'm not the best at it yet (next year I will read while standing) but I do what I can. Rather than just present a chapter and then take questions, I pulled three selections from the first three chapters and read them, with some explication and packaging in between. I hadn't practiced the in between bits, though, so I kept remembering things I meant to say before, or explaining the bit I just read after I read it. Imperfect. But I think the form is good and I'm going to stick to it, probably with some more practice ahead of time. I was worried about the clock and then ended up with all sorts of time. There was Q&A, and then it was off to lunch.
Sat in the bar for a couple hours, ate lunch, drank with some friends. Emptiest con bar ever.
Second event was a panel called "Writing Despite the Day Job." I am qualified to be on this panel. I don't know what to say about it, other than it went well, I feel that the audience was engaged and entertained. Some difference of opinion on how to go about getting better. I think that you need to write your way out of writing groups, but that's something I've come to later in my career. Also, none of us are Thomas Wolfe or Stephen King. That doesn't make sense unless you were there. So be there next time.
Other stuff. Uh, there's a worldcon bid for London in 2014. I find that exciting, but in a very distant sort of way. And I had corn beef hash, scrambled eggs and hash browns for breakfast, then came home and took a long nap. Still recovering.
Published on November 14, 2010 13:20
November 9, 2010
Windycon is set
Windycon is this weekend, and I finally have my schedule. It's light:
1) I'll be reading from The Horns of Ruin on Saturday at 11am, in the Walnut Room
2) Writing Despite the Day Job - Saturday at 4pm, in Lilac D
So it's a light weekend. Which is good, because re: item #2 up there, I have a book to write. And a day job.
Published on November 09, 2010 08:44
November 5, 2010
I will be Old + 1
A quick post to let you know that The Horns of Ruin will be part of a front of store promotion in Barnes & Noble facilities across the country from November 30th through December 13th. It is also important to note that one of those days is my birthday.
Buy me a present. Specifically, buy a copy of the book on one of those days. Pretend that whatever day you pick is my birthday. If you already have a copy (OMG THANK YOU!) then buy a second copy and give it to a friend. Or you could just archive the second copy, and when I come to your pathetic town on my eventual world tour (dates pending and largely imaginary) you can have me sign this pristine first edition of The Horns of Ruin, and tell me Happy Birthday. You may even sing Happy Birthday, if you feel it is necessary.
Bringing me cake might be taking it too far. But I will allow it.
Buy me a present. Specifically, buy a copy of the book on one of those days. Pretend that whatever day you pick is my birthday. If you already have a copy (OMG THANK YOU!) then buy a second copy and give it to a friend. Or you could just archive the second copy, and when I come to your pathetic town on my eventual world tour (dates pending and largely imaginary) you can have me sign this pristine first edition of The Horns of Ruin, and tell me Happy Birthday. You may even sing Happy Birthday, if you feel it is necessary.
Bringing me cake might be taking it too far. But I will allow it.
Published on November 05, 2010 08:01
November 2, 2010
Kind of a Roundup
Do you like my random capitalizing in the titles of these things? I do what feels good, man.
Apparently I'm all over the internet. I didn't realize it until I tried to compile all the guest posts I've done. I have two more coming, maybe three if I can think of something clever to say in the next week or so. But I thought I'd take this opportunity to direct you to the wise things I've said online in the last couple weeks. Also, there have been reviews of the book, and I might as well point you to those as well. Work those tabs.
Guest Posts:
Literary Escapism
TorDotCom
Madhatter Interview
The interview is actually with Eva Forge, the main character from The Horns of Ruin, but I had to write it, so I'm comfortable calling that a guest post.
Like I said, there are two or three others coming up in the next few months, but I'll point you to those as they become relevant.
Excerpt:
The Horns of Ruin
Reviews:
Rob Will Review
Alternative Worlds
Madhatter
Goodreads (which includes both positive and negative reviews)
New Jedi Order
There are probably more, but that's what I've been able to find. Most are good, some are so-so, at least one is openly dismissive. And that's okay. I can't please everyone.
Anyway. That's what I've been up to. If I missed your review or post about the book, let me know in the comments and I'll add it. Even if it's negative. These things don't offend me, which was something it took a while to develop, but I've learned.
**edited to add**
Check out the Banner ad!
Apparently I'm all over the internet. I didn't realize it until I tried to compile all the guest posts I've done. I have two more coming, maybe three if I can think of something clever to say in the next week or so. But I thought I'd take this opportunity to direct you to the wise things I've said online in the last couple weeks. Also, there have been reviews of the book, and I might as well point you to those as well. Work those tabs.
Guest Posts:
Literary Escapism
TorDotCom
Madhatter Interview
The interview is actually with Eva Forge, the main character from The Horns of Ruin, but I had to write it, so I'm comfortable calling that a guest post.
Like I said, there are two or three others coming up in the next few months, but I'll point you to those as they become relevant.
Excerpt:
The Horns of Ruin
Reviews:
Rob Will Review
Alternative Worlds
Madhatter
Goodreads (which includes both positive and negative reviews)
New Jedi Order
There are probably more, but that's what I've been able to find. Most are good, some are so-so, at least one is openly dismissive. And that's okay. I can't please everyone.
Anyway. That's what I've been up to. If I missed your review or post about the book, let me know in the comments and I'll add it. Even if it's negative. These things don't offend me, which was something it took a while to develop, but I've learned.
**edited to add**
Check out the Banner ad!
Published on November 02, 2010 08:55
November 1, 2010
Columbus is where the cool girls sing all night
So. WFC 2010. Good time.
I'm not going to give your typical con report, listing names and panels and whatnot. Mostly because I'm terrified of leaving people off, but also because I wasn't keeping a running checklist in my head and I'm kind of tired. Not firing on all cylinders. But I'm worried that if I don't get this report out there I'm going to start forgetting things. It took me forever last night to remember what I did on Saturday night for dinner, not because it wasn't an interesting meal, but because I had just gotten out of my car and was just pacing around the house trying to remember how to be a normal person. (Dinner was with Amy and Yonni and Richard, at the brewpub. I did remember eventually.)
I nearly didn't go this year. Horrible idea, not going. I've finally figured out that WFC isn't a business con for me anymore. There was stage where, professionally, WFC was the only convention that mattered. No longer true. But socially? Vital. Without WFC I'd be a hermit all year long, rather than all year minus four days. And those four days matter. Tremendously.
So, generally speaking, it was a great con. There are ways in which it was my best WFC yet, in the sense that I think I'm finally getting into the mode of being a writer. This is the first con in which people recognized me. Not just people whose job it is to know who I am, but completely random attendees stopping me in the hallway to ask questions about Heart of Veridon. This doesn't happen to me. Only, now it does.
On top of that, I feel like I'm getting to a point of recognition among the professionals in the industry. Two different people stopped me in parties to ask if they could take my picture, including Liza from Locus magazine. LOCUS. It's surreal. While walking through the Dealer Room, a lady from the next Worldcon handed me an invitation. It had my name on it? I realize it's just a sticker and a database, but it's a database that I'm in. It's all very strange.
People who know me know that I maintain a pretty low level of respect for my own work. It has something to do with standards, or just pushing myself to get better, but someone asked me to read something from the book that I liked, and I did, and my god. I liked doing that. I liked thinking, even briefly, that I was good at what I do. I'm not looking for compliments or affirmations or anything. I'm just saying. It was important to me.
So that's your con report. There were meetings in bars and at parties. I went to two panels and walked out of both of them because I would rather be talking to my friends. I have a bruise from shaking too many hands. I drank enough to not freak out socially, and little enough to not freak out socially, and never had a hangover. Every night I was up until 3:30.
And now I'm home, and I'm feeling pretty good. So thank you, everyone. And see you next year. In a bar.
I'm not going to give your typical con report, listing names and panels and whatnot. Mostly because I'm terrified of leaving people off, but also because I wasn't keeping a running checklist in my head and I'm kind of tired. Not firing on all cylinders. But I'm worried that if I don't get this report out there I'm going to start forgetting things. It took me forever last night to remember what I did on Saturday night for dinner, not because it wasn't an interesting meal, but because I had just gotten out of my car and was just pacing around the house trying to remember how to be a normal person. (Dinner was with Amy and Yonni and Richard, at the brewpub. I did remember eventually.)
I nearly didn't go this year. Horrible idea, not going. I've finally figured out that WFC isn't a business con for me anymore. There was stage where, professionally, WFC was the only convention that mattered. No longer true. But socially? Vital. Without WFC I'd be a hermit all year long, rather than all year minus four days. And those four days matter. Tremendously.
So, generally speaking, it was a great con. There are ways in which it was my best WFC yet, in the sense that I think I'm finally getting into the mode of being a writer. This is the first con in which people recognized me. Not just people whose job it is to know who I am, but completely random attendees stopping me in the hallway to ask questions about Heart of Veridon. This doesn't happen to me. Only, now it does.
On top of that, I feel like I'm getting to a point of recognition among the professionals in the industry. Two different people stopped me in parties to ask if they could take my picture, including Liza from Locus magazine. LOCUS. It's surreal. While walking through the Dealer Room, a lady from the next Worldcon handed me an invitation. It had my name on it? I realize it's just a sticker and a database, but it's a database that I'm in. It's all very strange.
People who know me know that I maintain a pretty low level of respect for my own work. It has something to do with standards, or just pushing myself to get better, but someone asked me to read something from the book that I liked, and I did, and my god. I liked doing that. I liked thinking, even briefly, that I was good at what I do. I'm not looking for compliments or affirmations or anything. I'm just saying. It was important to me.
So that's your con report. There were meetings in bars and at parties. I went to two panels and walked out of both of them because I would rather be talking to my friends. I have a bruise from shaking too many hands. I drank enough to not freak out socially, and little enough to not freak out socially, and never had a hangover. Every night I was up until 3:30.
And now I'm home, and I'm feeling pretty good. So thank you, everyone. And see you next year. In a bar.
Published on November 01, 2010 10:07


