Lian Tanner's Blog, page 17

First US review of ‘Icebreaker’

One of the odder things about being an author (and there are quite a few odd things) is that I am almost invariably working on one book and publicising another – usually one that I haven’t looked at for some time. So it can get quite confusing. But every now and then it can also be inspiring.

Like this week.

Liz Szabla from Feiwel & Friends emailed me the following STARRED review from Kirkus, who she says are ‘notoriously tough’:

‘This new trilogy will bait readers with its intriguing premise, hook them with its starkly beautiful setting, and reel them in with its fascinating characters. While others look toward the revival of technology to save them, Petrel’s humanity in the face of brutal ideology makes her the perfect heroine. Two talking ship’s rats make splendid companions for Petrel; Tanner’s knack with vivid names and textured dialect help to complete the intriguing worldbuilding. An artfully crafted adventure that’s equal parts thought-provoking and thrilling.’

As Liz said, ‘What a wonderful debut for ICEBREAKER!!’

So I’m really pleased about the review, but it also has the effect of getting me excited all over again about ‘Fetcher’s Song’, which I’ve been working on for months and months and months. That bit of encouragement was all that was needed.

And as August (which is when Icebreaker will be published in the US) draws closer, I’ve set up a giveaway on Goodreads for North American readers. You can find it here.

Lists

I am a list maker. Always have been. There are countless lists all over my house, some of them crossed off, some of them not. On backs of envelopes, mostly. Sometimes I make lists to remind myself, other times I make them for the sheer pleasure of crossing stuff off.

But I realised this morning (as I was making a list) that there’s one thing I never write down.

‘Read.’

That’d be like adding ‘breathe’ or ‘eat’ to the list. The reading happens in the gaps, or if there are no gaps I chuck a couple of things off the list to make time for it.

Yesterday I read one of the best prologues I’ve ever read. It comes at the beginning of Scrivener’s Moon by Philip Reeve, and when I came to the end of the prologue I sat back and said ‘Wow!’ Too hard to explain why – go and read it for yourself.

Philip Reeve has also written one of the best opening lines of all time: ‘It was a dark, blustery afternoon in spring, and the city of London was chasing a small mining town across the dried-out bed of the old North Sea.’ (from Mortal Engines)

How could you not sit down straight away and read a book like that? Forget those stupid lists – there’s important reading to be done!

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Getting stuck, getting unstuck

There comes a point, in every draft of every book, when I get stuck. The energy seems to drain out of the writing, the characters sag into a pathetic, whimpering heap, and I’ve got no idea what comes next.

That’s what happened this week.

A few books ago, I would’ve pressed on, telling myself not to be a wimp. Now I stop, go right back to the beginning of the book and start reading. Because what I’ve discovered is that if the story grinds to a halt, the problem isn’t right there – it’s some way back. And I have to go back and find it.

It’s usually something to do with motivation – I haven’t got the main character quite right, her motives aren’t strong enough or clear enough to drive the story through to the end. It’s like trying to build a house on a shaky foundation. So I have to dig deep into the foundation until I find out what’s wrong, then I get out the bricks and mortar, and a sledgehammer, and I fix it. Or at least I try. Sometimes I have to have a couple of goes. Sometimes I change a whole lot of stuff, then change it back again. Sometimes I only have to change ONE paragraph to fix it. (That’s fairly rare.)

This time, after reading from the beginning, I found the problem three chapters back from the sticking point. I think I’ve fixed it. I HOPE I’ve fixed. I’ll find out tomorrow, when I keep writing.

Meanwhile, I have it on good authority that Harry has almost come to the end of the first volume of his ‘memoirs’. I gather there will be a break before he starts on the second volume. If you haven’t caught up with them yet, you’ll find his first post here.

And here’s today’s photo: when I was a kid there was a song called ‘The Road to Mandalay’, with words taken from a poem by Rudyard Kipling. One of the lines that I always remember is ‘And the dawn comes up like thunder out of China, ‘cross the bay.’

Well the dawn came up like thunder this morning. Only it was Carlton Beach across the bay, not China.

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Aurealis Awards

I sat up long enough last night to catch the announcement of the Aurealis Award for Children’s Fiction.

I didn’t win.

Which didn’t surprise me, given who I shared the shortlist with.

The winner was Carole Wilkinson, author of the Dragonkeeper series. And the winning book was Shadow Sister, which is #5 in the series. I haven’t read it yet, but I loved the first couple in the series, so must catch up. She is such a good writer.

I don’t know yet who won the other categories – I suspect everyone is sleeping in, and websites will be updated later today.

Harry, meanwhile, is living dangerously – on his blog, at least. I hate to think what’s going to happen when he discovers the truth about emus …

Blood moon

There was a blood moon last night, and I meant to stay up late and take photos, but was way too involved in my crime novel and forgot. So instead I took a photo of it early this morning, when I went for a walk.

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Unfortunately, it was no longer the slightest bit bloody.

But as I was walking along the canal, thinking about it, it struck me how ominous it must have seemed to pre-science civilisations. I mean, if you didn’t know anything about lunar eclipses, and the moon suddenly turned blood red, you would HAVE to see it as a sign of something. Probably something pretty awful. And if you believed in witchcraft and stuff like that, you’d probably start looking for someone to blame.

Judging from history, there’s an excellent chance that you’d fix on a woman living by herself with her cat.

This is one of the things I really like about living in the age of science. It has its problems, of course. And I love writing about non-scientific societies, and magic, and all the things that no longer have a place in our belief systems. But then I think about the terrible things that happened (and that still happen in some countries) when our ancestors DID believe in witches, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

So – stories about witchcraft = good. A genuine belief in witchcraft = bad.

There’s no blood moon in Fetcher’s Song. But I think I might have to have one in the next book.

 

 

The book I’m not writing

Working from home is all about self-discipline. So is being a writer. No one’s making me do it. No one’s standing at my shoulder saying, ‘Finish that book or you won’t get any chocolate.’ It’s just me. And Harry, of course, but he’s no help. As far as he’s concerned, I should be lying on the sofa with him purring on my lap.

So this past week has been a spectacularly bad one as far as self-discipline is concerned. All I really wanted to do was start working on the book I’m not writing – and that’s the trap. The next book always looks so appealing. I have a notebook for it sitting on the sofa in my office, and every now and again some of the characters in that notebook crawl off the sofa and whisper in my ear, saying that they are so much nicer than the Fetcher characters, and if I’d only give them a chance, the words would flow so much more easily, and the ideas would come so quickly, and I could probably write the whole thing in three weeks.

Ha. I am not fooled.

‘You’re lying,’ I say. ‘As soon as I let you up here on the screen you’ll be just as difficult as the characters I’m wrestling with at the moment. You might even be worse. Go away. Be quiet. Vamoose. Let me get on with the edit of Fetcher.’

That went on all week. In between fierce arguments with non-existent people I did manage to get a bit done, but not as much as I had hoped. So I’ll have to work over Easter. And I am going to be very self-disciplined. No arguments. No (ahem) checking my email. Or Facebook. Or any of the other traps. Head down, bum up. And write.

Except it won’t be head down, bum up, because I now have a standing desk. I’ve been wanting one for a while, but have only just got around to doing something about it. And oh, the elegance of my new standing desk! The beauty! The style!

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It’s the perfect height for me. I’m wondering if I should patent it …

 

 

Notebook on my bedside table

One of the best pieces of writing advice I ever received was to keep a notebook and pen on my bedside table. I write in the mornings – from fairly early up until lunch time. In the afternoons I do business stuff, as well as planning workshops and talks, and researching material for whatever I’m writing.

But what I’ve discovered over the years is that, although I think I’ve stopped working on the novel at about 1.00 pm, there’s a part of me that just keeps going. It ticks away all afternoon, mulling over the problems I’ve come up against, working out better solutions and better wording and better outcomes to whatever situations I’ve put my characters into. I don’t actually notice any of this – I’m too busy sending emails and planning workshops (with bits of gardening in between).

But once I get into bed and turn the light off, those solutions and outcomes start popping up into my conscious mind. So my typical bedtime goes like this:

1. Turn off the light and close my eyes.

2. Start to drift towards sleep.

3. Suddenly have a BRILLIANT idea about the main character and why she’s doing what she’s doing.

4. Turn on the light, grab the notebook and pen from my bedside table and scribble it down before I forget about it.

5. Turn off the light and close my eyes.

6. Start to drift towards sleep.

7. Suddenly realise how to fix that bit of Chapter 7 that I’ve been sweating over for the last three days.

8. Turn on the light, grab the notebook and pen from my bedside table and scribble it down.

9. Turn off the light and close my eyes.

10. Start to drift towards sleep …

Sometimes it goes on for far too long.

Apart from this grab-the-notebook business, it’s been a fairly uneventful week as far as writing is concerned. The editing of Fetcher’s Song continues. Will I get it finished by the deadline (mid-May)? I certainly hope so, because I’ve been invited to visit some schools in Alice Springs at the end of May, and I want to have the edit well out of the way by then. I’ve never been to Central Australia, so I’m a wee bit excited.  I’ve just booked flights and accommodation to go and see Uluru and Kata-Tjuta while I’m there.

What else?

Nothing much. Harry’s well, the chooks are well – Dolly having made a dramatic recovery from what appeared to be a terminal illness. And today is March 21st, which makes it the equinox. For the next six months in the southern hemisphere, the nights will be longer than the days. As you can see below, Harry is already snuggling in for winter.

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Fierce competition, ice breakers … and some editing

My cat Harry and I are in fierce competition this weekend to see who can get their blog up first. And I WIN! Harry is still sorting through his photos, looking for a flattering one. He hasn’t even realised that I’ve beaten him to the computer.

*sighs with satisfaction*

I COULD just rest on my laurels now. After all, I have a headline and a first paragraph. Maybe that’s enough … But no. The headline promised ice breakers and editing, so ice breakers and editing there must be.

The ice breakers first! Grade 5/6S at Kangaroo Valley Public School are reading Ice Breaker as their class novel. They’ve got a cross section of a real icebreaker, and they are colour coding and labeling it according to what they know from the story so far. Their teacher sent me some pics.

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What I find interesting about these (apart from the fact that I LOVE getting drawings, photos etc from my readers) is that this is pretty much what I did when I was writing the novel, to keep track of what was happening on different parts of the ship, and where people were.

Oh, and I understand they are finding the book ‘very intriguing’.

Now for the editing. Some people hate editing, but I love it. That’s what I’m doing with Fetcher (The Hidden #3) at the moment, going through the notes that my publisher sent me, and fixing the things that weren’t working. Some of it’s really straightforward, e.g. ‘p.21. Even though they are numb with tiredness, I think they should be a bit more astonished by what happens here.’

*inserts more astonishment*

Other bits are more complicated, and I have to poke at them and tweak and rewrite and then tweak some more, and then because I’ve changed THAT bit, I have to go back and change five other bits as well, so that the story makes sense.

So why do I like it so much? Because I can feel the book coming together, and getting better all the time. And also because I tend to write in layers. My first drafts are always very bare bones, and the people aren’t very convincing. It’s not until later drafts that I start rounding out the characters and making them more like real people. So as well as fixing things that the publisher wants me to fix, I’m playing with the characters and discovering a bit more about who they are, and finding better solutions for some of the problems, and realising that the pigeon, Scroll, from Sunker’s Deep, really should appear in this book (though she’s not there at the moment) and that I know exactly how to use her.

I also like the way the book occupies a certain part of my mind, day and night, so that at some level I’m always thinking about it and working through those problems.

Anything else, before I go and snigger at Harry?

Not really. Apart from the fact that I have just re-started my very early morning walks on the beach. It’s pretty deserted at that time of day – just a few people going about their business. We always stop and chat for a bit …

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I’m back … with an Aurealis shortlisting

About a week ago, one of my readers gently reminded me that I hadn’t posted on my blog for a couple of months. I was just about to head off to the west coast (of Tasmania) to talk to kids in various schools, so I promised I’d take up my blog again as soon as I returned.

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Driving towards Queenstown on a wet, rainforesty day.

It wasn’t just laziness that stopped me blogging. (Well, a bit.) I’ve been on holiday, and it felt as if the only thing I had to say was: Still on holiday. Yep, still on holiday. STILL on holiday.

But now the year seems to have clicked into gear and I am busy busy busy, even though I’m not starting a new book until July 1st. I’ve got the notes on Fetcher’s Song (#3 in The Hidden series) back from my editor at last, so I’m working away on the next draft, trying to cut huge chunks so that the action moves along a little more quickly, and at the same time make the main character a little more sympathetic.

I’m also helping Harry with his blog, of course. He SAYS he doesn’t need any help, but the next moment he looks up from the keyboard (he’s getting quite nifty with his toes) and asks me how to spell words like ‘slaughter’ and ‘brimstone’ and ‘incredibly handsome’. So I do my best to humour him.

Now, some news about Sunker’s Deep. I may have mentioned that Ice Breaker is coming out in the US and Canada this August, with an amazingly cool cover. Which means that Sunker will be out a year later. Over summer my agent sent the manuscript to Liz Szabla, who is my American editor at Feiwel & Friends (MacMillan). And I had an extremely nice email from her where she said:

Oh. My. Goodness.

As you know, I started reading Sunker’s Deep while I was on vacation, and could not put it down – even on vacation!! I am in awe of Sharkey and his crew, of how you’ve woven Petrel and Fin and the rats back into the story, and of the intense yet subtle ways this world mirrors our own, for better or for worse. And the action is phenomenal.

What’s more, two days later I heard that Sunker has been shortlisted for the 2014 Aurealis Award for Children’s Fiction. This is Australia’s top fantasy award, and I’ve won it twice before, for Museum of Thieves and City of Lies. Ice Breaker was shortlisted in its turn, but didn’t win, and now Sunker is shortlisted. So I’m currently feeling very pleased with Sharkey and his friends.

As I said, I’ve been on the west coast for the last week, and visited schools in Queenstown, Strahan, Zeehan and Rosebery. The schools are small – in both Strahan and Zeehan I spoke to about 18 kids, and that was the WHOLE of Grades 4, 5 and 6. And in Rosebery, at St Joseph’s Primary School, they gave me chocolates and asked if they could come and visit me for morning tea when they are in Hobart later this year. (They promised to bring cake.)

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The mountains on the west coast are utterly beautiful. I took LOTS of mountain photos. :)

The whole trip was hugely interesting – the west coast of Tassie is VERY different from the rest of the state, very dramatic and wild and beautiful. I went on a boat out to Hell’s Gates (which is the horribly narrow entrance to Macquarie Harbour) and was amazed that sailing ships used to get through safely. (Though when the Roaring Forties were blowing hard, and the waves were 60 feet high, they didn’t bother trying.) I went on a tour of Sarah Island, which was once one of the most brutal prisons in the world. I went up the Gordon River, and also up the abt railway to a little mining town called Dubbil Barril.

And now of course I’m home, and Harry hasn’t stopped purring since I got here and neither have I. And now that I’m back at work, I’ll do my best to update my blog every week. After all, if Harry can do it, so can I!

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If possible, one should always finish with a goat. Luckily I found this one in Queenstown, when I was out walking.

Merry Christmas!

Harry and I are getting into the Christmas spirit in our usual fashion. He’s wrapping parcels …

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‘Um, this IS how you wrap parcels, right?’

And I’m reading.

For Dolly, Floss and Clara it’s their first Christmas at Lauderdale and they’re not quite sure what to make of it. They seem to be enjoying themselves so far, and they took a few Christmas selfies when I left my phone lying around …

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‘Do I look gorgeous, or do I look gorgeous?’

But I notice they flinch whenever someone says ‘wishbone’. And who can blame them.

So from all of us to all of you, we hope you have a splendidly Merry Christmas, surrounded by love and laughter, but with quiet moments whenever you need them. Harry hopes you will find at least one mouse among your presents, alive or dead, and the chooks have put in a request that any leftover Christmas pudding be sent to them. They don’t mind if it’s a bit mouldy.

And Harry wants me to remind you about his ‘memoirs’. [Yes, Harry, I was going to. Shut up, okay?] *sigh* Here they are.

Merry Christmas!