Magen Cubed's Blog, page 44
July 21, 2011
Summer Sessions 2011: Session Nine
SESSION NINE: REBECCA BLAIN, INTERVIEWED BY J.A. PAKWith a love of nature, animals and tea, fantasy author Rebecca Blain shares with us a little bit about her work, her world, and her thoughts on coffee-drinkers. You can find more on Rebecca at her website and writing blog.
If you could change one thing about your own writing, what would it be?
This is a hard question. There are so many ways that I could improve my writing. If I had to pick one, however, I would pick my tendency to repeat myself when I describe things. That, and my flaw of forgetting to write down some important details I know but the reader doesn't!
You are a passionate tea drinker. Now V.S. Naipaul claims that he can tell whether a writer is male or female by just reading a paragraph. Can you tell if a writer is a tea drinker or coffee drinker? What are the tell-tale signs?
Oh my. If I had to give a knee-jerk reaction, you can tell the tea drinker as the person who stares at the mugs and cups as if analyzing them. Cups make a difference with tea. Not so much with coffee. I also identify the coffee drinkers as those who look glassy-eyed and ready to quit existence after not having a hit in an hour. The more zombie they look, the likelier they drink coffee, in my opinion!
If you could distill your writing into tea, what kind of tea would it be? And what time of day would you drink it?
I think my writing would be a flavored white — I think the type of white would be really determined by the day of the week. Sometimes I'm a smooth cup of white coconut creme, smooth finish and a great start. Others, I'm a white mixed with chamomile, a rough start and leaves an interesting aftertaste on the tongue. As for the time of day, I would definitely be an afternoon tea. Mornings are for chai and a swift kick in the rump. Or a nice breakfast tea.
You concentrate your fiction in the fantasy realm. If you were given the chance to fashion the world you would be born into next, what would that world look like? Can you write a paragraph for us as if it were a novel, knowing you would be an inhabitant? And who would you be? What role would you play?
Oooh ho. This is a tricky question. I'll start with the who I would be and what role I would play. I don't think I would really want to change who I am right now — I like what I do, and I like my dreams. Even my fantasy worlds steal from the real world. It is the hardships of our life and world that make us who we are.
That said, I would rig things so that people were more considerate to the planet. It makes me sound like a hippy (I'm not, really), but I enjoy blue skies, mild sunsets and clean waters.
How does one put into words the perfect world? It is my own, but fewer cities, cleaner cities, nicer people and fresh air not tainted with smog. If I had to make one change, it would be to encourage people to be more understanding of other cultures, religions and skin color, however lame that sounds.
(Who am I kidding? I would be Queen of the Universe and everyone would be my minion. Go, slave, fetch me some tea — and don't screw it up!)
July 20, 2011
New fiction coming from Post Mortem-Press
Mon Cœur Mort from Post Morterm-Press
You all know how I feel about anything that sparkles, dazzles, or otherwise glitters in the sunlight. As far as I'm concerned, the only supernatural romance I care about comes from the Dean/Castiel fanfiction community on Livejournal, and that's where it stays. (Although I am more of Crowley/Castiel girl these days, but my unresolvable feelings for Mark A. Sheppard are another story for another day….) However, for Post Mortem-Press and their upcoming anthology, I decided to make an exception.
In the era of sparkling vampires, love lorn werewolves and fallen guardian angels, the idea of romance and fear has gotten a little muddy. Mon Cœur Mort aims to clear the water some. Twenty-seven international authors bring us tales that range from humorous to horrifying, lyrical to lurid, touching to terrorizing. Regardless of tone, they all have one thing in common, they deal with the theme of otherworldly fear associated with love.
In Mon Cœur Mort the vampires do not sparkle and the werewolves wear shirts in public. Each story speaks to our core emotions of love and fear. A chance encounter with the perfect girl. A walk down memory lane on a wedding anniversary. The final moments of life unraveling in time and reality. Revenge is served and the ultimate sacrifice is made, all in the name of love.
But be warned, just as the stories may touch your heart, they might just rip it out of your chest.
My short story At the Heart of Mina Jones closes the book, about a minimum-wage burnout named Jason, in the throes of his quarter-life crisis. Jason has a crush on a customer named Mina, a cool, put-together girl that he knows he has no chance with, having lost his corporate job to downsizing and living on the hope that he can keep a roof over his head amid piling student loans and debt. When Mina approaches Jason with an offer he can't refuse — $10,000 in exchange for one night of his company, no strings attached — she might very well be the answer he's looking for.
But the night he spends in Mina's too-hot apartment, handcuffed in her bed and held there under her too-cold hands, opens the door to questions that Jason can't answer and an obsession that threatens to consume him.
"Hey," I said, and stood stone-dumb as she came up to me, my breath catching between us like smoke. She didn't smile this time.
"Are you free?" She sounded like she already had an answer in mind.
"Yeah, I'm just heading home for the night." I didn't want to look like I cared, but it was hard to fake. "Why?"
She walked on, I followed.
"I've seen where you live, Jason. I don't mean to overstep my boundaries, but I can see you don't have a lot of money."
"You've been to my apartment?" I bristled. "Why did you go to my place?"
"I don't want to make you uncomfortable." She wasn't looking at me, taking long steps that I had to try to keep up with. I couldn't see her breath like I could mine. "But I can help you, if you want. All I ask in return is a favor."
"What are you talking about?"
"How much do you want?"
"What? No, I don't want anything."
Mina stopped, grabbed my arm. "How much?"
I shuffled in place. "I don't want anything, okay?"
Her eyes looked wider in the dark. "Five thousand dollars? Ten? Would that be enough to help you?"
"Mina—"
She squeezed my arm. "I will give you ten thousand dollars, Jason. Free, clear and in cash. All you have to do is agree to my terms."
I regretted the question before I even asked. "What do you want me to do?"
"You come home with me, Jason, just for one night. You do everything I ask of you when I ask it, you don't question any of my requirements, and you don't tell anyone else about it. That's all."
"Mina." I looked at her hand, the boniness of her bare fingers digging into my jacket. Sighed and shrugged it away. "I can't do that. I'm sorry."
"I'm offering you a lot of money, Jason. All I'm asking from you is one simple favor, and then you never have to see me again."
"I'm sorry."
She retrieved a pen and a notepad from her purse, tearing out a slip of paper and writing something down. "This is my home number. When you change your mind, call me."
Mina held up the paper. I didn't take it. Reaching out she pulled my fingers open, placed it in my hand and folded my fingers shut again, holding them there. Her hands were freezing to the touch. It made the whole thing seem sadder somehow.
"You will call me," she said, like she already knew.
I watched her walk away, disappearing down the street and into a car parked outside the coffee shop. I couldn't help but look at her note, the roundness of her letters and numbers, assuring myself that I'd done the right thing. Walking home alone and crawling into bed under cold sheets, I wasn't so sure I had.
It's a love story. It's a quarter-life crisis story. It's a slow-burn chiller about people who aren't what they appear to be. Most of all, nobody sparkles, and at the end of the day, that's what counts. You can pre-order Mon Cœur Mort today.
New fiction coming from Post Mortem-Press
Mon Cœur Mort from Post Morterm-Press
You all know how I feel about anything that sparkles, dazzles, or otherwise glitters in the sunlight. As far as I'm concerned, the only supernatural romance I care about comes from the Dean/Castiel fanfiction community on Livejournal, and that's where it stays. (Although I am more of Crowley/Castiel girl these days, but my unresolvable feelings for Mark A. Sheppard are another story for another day….) However, for Post Mortem-Press and their upcoming anthology, I decided to make an exception.
In the era of sparkling vampires, love lorn werewolves and fallen guardian angels, the idea of romance and fear has gotten a little muddy. Mon Cœur Mort aims to clear the water some. Twenty-seven international authors bring us tales that range from humorous to horrifying, lyrical to lurid, touching to terrorizing. Regardless of tone, they all have one thing in common, they deal with the theme of otherworldly fear associated with love.
In Mon Cœur Mort the vampires do not sparkle and the werewolves wear shirts in public. Each story speaks to our core emotions of love and fear. A chance encounter with the perfect girl. A walk down memory lane on a wedding anniversary. The final moments of life unraveling in time and reality. Revenge is served and the ultimate sacrifice is made, all in the name of love.
But be warned, just as the stories may touch your heart, they might just rip it out of your chest.
My short story At the Heart of Mina Jones closes the book, about a minimum-wage burnout named Jason, in the throes of his quarter-life crisis. Jason has a crush on a customer named Mina, a cool, put-together girl that he knows he has no chance with, having lost his corporate job to downsizing and living on the hope that he can keep a roof over his head amid piling student loans and debt. When Mina approaches Jason with an offer he can't refuse — $10,000 in exchange for one night of his company, no strings attached — she might very well be the answer he's looking for.
But the night he spends in Mina's too-hot apartment, handcuffed in her bed and held there under her too-cold hands, opens the door to questions that Jason can't answer and an obsession that threatens to consume him.
"Hey," I said, and stood stone-dumb as she came up to me, my breath catching between us like smoke. She didn't smile this time.
"Are you free?" She sounded like she already had an answer in mind.
"Yeah, I'm just heading home for the night." I didn't want to look like I cared, but it was hard to fake. "Why?"
She walked on, I followed.
"I've seen where you live, Jason. I don't mean to overstep my boundaries, but I can see you don't have a lot of money."
"You've been to my apartment?" I bristled. "Why did you go to my place?"
"I don't want to make you uncomfortable." She wasn't looking at me, taking long steps that I had to try to keep up with. I couldn't see her breath like I could mine. "But I can help you, if you want. All I ask in return is a favor."
"What are you talking about?"
"How much do you want?"
"What? No, I don't want anything."
Mina stopped, grabbed my arm. "How much?"
I shuffled in place. "I don't want anything, okay?"
Her eyes looked wider in the dark. "Five thousand dollars? Ten? Would that be enough to help you?"
"Mina—"
She squeezed my arm. "I will give you ten thousand dollars, Jason. Free, clear and in cash. All you have to do is agree to my terms."
I regretted the question before I even asked. "What do you want me to do?"
"You come home with me, Jason, just for one night. You do everything I ask of you when I ask it, you don't question any of my requirements, and you don't tell anyone else about it. That's all."
"Mina." I looked at her hand, the boniness of her bare fingers digging into my jacket. Sighed and shrugged it away. "I can't do that. I'm sorry."
"I'm offering you a lot of money, Jason. All I'm asking from you is one simple favor, and then you never have to see me again."
"I'm sorry."
She retrieved a pen and a notepad from her purse, tearing out a slip of paper and writing something down. "This is my home number. When you change your mind, call me."
Mina held up the paper. I didn't take it. Reaching out she pulled my fingers open, placed it in my hand and folded my fingers shut again, holding them there. Her hands were freezing to the touch. It made the whole thing seem sadder somehow.
"You will call me," she said, like she already knew.
I watched her walk away, disappearing down the street and into a car parked outside the coffee shop. I couldn't help but look at her note, the roundness of her letters and numbers, assuring myself that I'd done the right thing. Walking home alone and crawling into bed under cold sheets, I wasn't so sure I had.
It's a love story. It's a quarter-life crisis story. It's a slow-burn chiller about people who aren't what they appear to be. Most of all, nobody sparkles, and at the end of the day, that's what counts. You can pre-order Mon Cœur Mort today.
Summer Sessions 2011: Session Eight
SESSION EIGHT: M. RAOULEE, INTERVIEWED BY CHRISTINE DANSEFull of wit and practical wisdom, science fiction writer M. Raoulee takes some time to discuss her work, her dolls, her beading, and everything else in between. You can find more about M. at her Livejournal.
1. What, primarily, do you write?
Trashy science fiction and fantasy, often with a side of porn and/or snark.
1A. Science fiction and fantasy! There's a large genre. Any favorite subgenres?
Well, right now I have an interest in slice-of-life science fiction, which I would like to take a moment to blame on Hitoshi Ashinano. I've written a lot of adventures the past few years, and I guess I felt like something a little more mellow. I say adventure, but I'm not much of an epic person. There's just something that burns my toast about "YOU ARE THE ONE WHO MUST DO A THING, YO." I've always wondered about what the lives of ordinary people in extraordinary worlds are like. In my hands, the answer appears to be "ridiculous", but I'll take that.
As for what I'm doing writing non-epics in the most epic-prone genres ever, I've never been accused of doing things the easy way. And I'm fine with other people writing epics and such. Can you imagine a world with no high fantasy battlefests? I don't WANT to.
2. Where, primarily, do you write it?
In the fearsome hell-dimension which exists in the back of my sock drawer! Well, I wish. I have an antique vanity facing a window and one of those laptops that's so huge as to be thoroughly UN-portable. Oh, and all this stuff is in the room I rent, to the right of a shelf full of dolls and a painting of the human incarnation of fluorite.
3. The question I hate to answer, but love to ask: are you a pantser…or plotter?
Why? That is a good question! I used to be a hardcore pantser. Genius of spontaneity and all that. And sometimes, if I have a deadline, I will still pants the everyloving crap out individual scenes. But, as a pantser, it wasn't very often I saw the ends of stories and I much too gradually came to realize I was never going to get anything done without something resembling an outline.
I have to be able to physically move plot points around which results in these OneNote tabs that look like QED worksheets. For very long, complex stories, sometimes I resort to taping colored notecards to my closet door.
4. Who are your primary inspirations for writing?
I am going to take a moment to excerpt a conversation I had with GreenJudy about that very thing.
> Corny as it may be, things come to me in dreams. Often, I'm dimly aware
> that I'm dreaming and have the some say in what's going on. I can ring
> room service for a movie, but I only get to pick the genre.
> Or, I'll overhear a thing. "That is a phone that has seen better days".
> What of this phone? I beheld not the phone. But, my brain wanted to know
> about the phone and filled in some info on it's own. This is where my
> most nonsensical notes hail from.
> But, more and more, I find myself engineering scenes. I want to
> accomplish X. What is the best way to do this? Oddly enough, this is
> where a lot of my jokes come from, [when I'm not pantsing them].
> All three of these states have to balance out for a good scene (and I do
> outline by scene).
> Say, the T-rex story. I was dreaming about doppelgangers and soldiers and
> Umi no Aria, only things went horribly wrong, as tings are wont to do.
> This stuck itself to some of my notes that had been otherwise
> languishing. And then I thought: this is a great excuse to write about
> miniature dinosaurs as pets. How would I work one in? You know what would
> be funny? If one SAT on the main character and made T. Rex noises in his
> face. Wait, what noise does a T. Rex make? And then, I posted in LJ [posing that question].
> Plotting and writing work like this for me.
> Plotting makes more stuff / writing walls off the new stuff / revising
> purifies the stuff.
> I think it's like making vodka and being hopelessly bad at it.
4A. I think I'm going to frame "Plotting makes … purifies the stuff" and hang it on my wall! That's the essence of writing for me, right there. And what about literary role models–who are yours?
Well, I already ended up name-dropping one before you asked. Oopsie. I want to disclaim before I say anything else that I think there's a difference between liking a book and looking up to the author. Meaning I dig a whole lot more books by a whole lot more writers than I'm about to list.
-Umberto Eco: "I felt like killing a monk". Is there ever any better reason to turn out a massive tome of a novel? Plus, he writes what he damn well pleases, which is what he knows, which may well be everything awesome ever.
-Mark Danielewski: Supreme lord and master of fucking with the audience.
-Hagio Moto: Created to shonen-ai genre in comics and otherwise made a career of filling women's comic magazines with hard sci-fi and comics about ballerinas if she damnwell felt like it.
-Tanith Lee: has written more imminently readable books in her life than most companies put out over their entire existences.
5. Can you tell us a bit about your current work-in-progress? (Or works-in-progress, whatever the case may be.)
Let me see. I have a novel I keep meaning to revise with some modicum of seriousness, but it weighs about ten pounds and I have, in fact, killed scorpions with it. In the drafting department, the T. rex story ate a bunch of my other outlines, so I have this cute little soft sci-fi slice-of-life tangle of stories going on and very little desire to move on at this point. Oh, and there are two pet ideas which follow me around: the serious one and the not serious one. The serious one I did try to write once and botched. I have no idea how to even outline the not serious one due to a certain prevalence of lying and alcohol.
5A. Well, if you're going to make us wait that long for literary goodness…do you at least have a prize snippet you're willing to share?
Is it Tuesday? No? Well, here's one anyway.
Later that evening while he waited for some bread to rise, Nel emailed Tasso at his "best for social agendas" address, to see if there was anything he absolutely wouldn't eat. He would never have the chance to do as much with a restaurant patron, but he figured: now, while he could. Now, before he'd mentally assembled a menu.
Tasso wrote back almost at once, and it was then that doubt crept up on Nel. Just a little doubt, no more harmful than a dropped fork, but well-founded just the same.
I like: black olives, green olives, red olives, items which contain any of the aforementioned olives.
I don't like: bran; things that taste how grass smells; breakfast cereal; foodstuffs produced by members of the Musa genus.
And here where Nel had bet himself that likes would be all about pizza, Chinese and Bereit lunchboxes (Bereit still flinging its cheese-drenched cuisine across the galaxy despite a heavy backlash in the culinary world).
Musa turned out to bananas.
That, and the request he'd started out with? Not much to go on.
What really threw him though was the part about grass. Nel knew how grass smelled: he lived in the middle of some pretty serious grass. But, he couldn't translate that aroma into a taste. He'd been trying to work on that skill. In fact, he'd probably been working on it when he should have been studying for algebra. It got to annoy him that while he knew what Tasso was getting at, he couldn't have expressed it better than Tasso already had.
So, he clattered down the outside steps of his apartment complex and made his way across the parking lot to the communal yard where he got down on his hands and knees, and shoved his face in the grass for a big, gushing smell of the stuff.
His tongue reacted to the scent. Stirred, though there was no taste per se.
The grass smelled remarkably like grass.
"Nel?" came Ms. Chicklace's voice, and Ms. Chicklace's pink and black flats intruding on the grass he had engaged. "Are you alright?"
"It's for school," he sighed. "I got this hypothetical client who doesn't like the taste of suburbia."
"Ohhh. In that case, I would make sure not to hypothetically serve him macaroni out of a box. That's about the most suburban thing ever," and she laughed a little, one shoe brushing the other. "Not that you'd dream of it."
"I gotta start somewhere. Hey, did anybody loose their keys?"
6. What is your goal or dream for writing?
I've wanted to be published since I was nine. Failing that, I would at least like to leave behind a readable version of the not serious pet outline above. Why? Because heroic atheist lesbians, that's why.
7. Well, that's a great reason! Your profile says you write in the nude. Is this a metaphor for baring yourself to the world through your writing? Or am I just looking too far into that?
Even as I type this, my pants are on the other side of the bedroom! It's hot here. I don't have much of a choice. But, I do have a problem expressing myself verbally. The mind and the mouth do not sync up for me. It's not as bad as it used to be since I've had people INSIST on getting to know me lately. I still get a hell of a lot more across in writing.
8. Ya know, we Floridians believe in something called "A/C"… Besides writing, you seem to have quite a few other creative pursuits. Can you share some of these with us?
I absolutely cannot stand to do nothing. I go stir crazy if I can't be making or doing something. But, I only have so much space, so miniatures work for me. Well, I have been beading more human-sized items lately, but I still sew around 1/4 scale most of the time. Also, I was raised in a family where everyone cooked, so I love-love-love to cook. My favorite thing to make is literal soup du jour where I grab whatever we've got and try to turn it into tasty soup. I also make killer risotto. Seriously- it's got about a half pound of butter in it. Don't eat it and then got get a blood test.
Some other media I've messed around with include Friendly Plastic, Angelina Film and plastic canvas. If I get in the mood or there's a special occasion I will do cartonnage, which is those fabric-covered boxes from your grandmother's bathroom. Great results, but you will trash daylights out of your workspace.
8A. Friendly Plastic, Angelina Film, and plastic canvas? These sound like great band names…but something tells me they're not musical groups.
I would listen the hell out of a band called Angelina Film.
Friendly Plastic, also known as Polycaprolactone, is a plastic that's moldable at 140F. Fantastic Plastic from back in the 80′s was similar, but everyone may rest assured the newer version is less carcinogenic. In fact, it may have medical applications. Anyway, you can dye it, get ink all over yourself and use it to make miniatures or cabochons.
Angelina Film similar to cellophane. You heat it, it sticks to itself and gets all iridescent. The fun part comes when you glue it to an armature first. Oh, but there's lacquer involved too. Lots of lacquer. Everywhere. Still fun though.
Plastic canvas works up like gigantic scale cross stitch, but you can make three-dimension things out of it too. Say, doll furniture. I know that particular application had some fans in the late 80′s, early 90′s. This material in particular may be dismissed as tacky, but anything's tacky in the wrong hands.
8B. Do you find that any of these other pursuits fuel your writing? Do any killer soups du jour show up in your stories?
I did actually end up writing a character who beaded into one of my Halloween porn fests. Very sparkly bonking ensued. And I THINK The Soup That We Don't Talk About in one of my more current projects may be a relative of one that got all weird on me the other day. Protip: frozen pork and frozen giant chicken breasts may be indistinguishable in the depths of the freezer.
9. Tell us a little bit about your dolls. Do you build them? Just their accessories? Both?
I have a collection of Asian Ball-Joint Dolls, otherwise known as those overpriced resin things. I do not have a theme for my collection. Oh, you know, now that I think of it, I know what my pantsing went into. Anyway, I do like fantasy-themed dolls, but I don't buy those exclusively. Also, a lot of writers will get dolls to represent their characters. I have two out of two dozen, and one is actually a reverse character doll- I based the way the character looks on the doll. The rest? They don't need refining and motives and backstories. They just need tiny dashikis and to be hung in palo verde trees for pictures. I did try to build one at one point, but it went badly.
10. And I need to know about these beading kits you're putting together.
Oh, my goodness. I should get you some coffee or something. Long story alert.
These people who have INSISTED on getting to know me are all regulars from my local bead shop. I had not had any corporeal friends in years before I met them. Originally, I would just stop into this shop occasionally for doll props, but they wore me down and got me having conversations and making human-sized things.
The economy still being made of suck and fail, we decided we would invent some kits for our bead store to sell online so it can stick around. And we would do it with Tila beads, which are square, have two holes and make for a pain in the ass 99% of the time. I had this idea that I would use them to make bigger, ornate square units that could be assembled in different ways. This went over way better than I ever thought it would. I ended up teaching it to a bunch of people, who did their own takes on it.
Two months later, we're tentatively expecting three design variations in five colorways each once we get the directions finished and the materials together. I have learned so much. I mean, everything from how to write good directions to the fact French Brittany's turn into balls when they lie down. It's really been an wonderful, though occasionally frustrating, experience and you had better believe I am going to pimp the living daylights out of these things once we have them to sell.
Oh, and I got put in charge of naming the different colors, which has been LOLerous because everything I know about naming fashion items I gleaned from 80′s Avon catalogues.
CD: M., thank you for joining me! It's been a real pleasure! And greatest of luck with those bead kits. Is there a link we'll be able to find them at when they're available?
Oh, thank YOU. I've really enjoyed this exchange myself. And goodness knows I need some luck. Anyway, the kits should be available online at http://www.cosmopolitanbeads.com/ . I'm trying to set it up that people who order online and mention Shipwreck Light get at least a special thank you note. Lynda kinda shot down my free porn idea.
Summer Sessions 2011: Session Eight
SESSION EIGHT: M. RAOULEE, INTERVIEWED BY CHRISTINE DANSEFull of wit and practical wisdom, science fiction writer M. Raoulee takes some time to discuss her work, her dolls, her beading, and everything else in between. You can find more about M. at her Livejournal.
1. What, primarily, do you write?
Trashy science fiction and fantasy, often with a side of porn and/or snark.
1A. Science fiction and fantasy! There's a large genre. Any favorite subgenres?
Well, right now I have an interest in slice-of-life science fiction, which I would like to take a moment to blame on Hitoshi Ashinano. I've written a lot of adventures the past few years, and I guess I felt like something a little more mellow. I say adventure, but I'm not much of an epic person. There's just something that burns my toast about "YOU ARE THE ONE WHO MUST DO A THING, YO." I've always wondered about what the lives of ordinary people in extraordinary worlds are like. In my hands, the answer appears to be "ridiculous", but I'll take that.
As for what I'm doing writing non-epics in the most epic-prone genres ever, I've never been accused of doing things the easy way. And I'm fine with other people writing epics and such. Can you imagine a world with no high fantasy battlefests? I don't WANT to.
2. Where, primarily, do you write it?
In the fearsome hell-dimension which exists in the back of my sock drawer! Well, I wish. I have an antique vanity facing a window and one of those laptops that's so huge as to be thoroughly UN-portable. Oh, and all this stuff is in the room I rent, to the right of a shelf full of dolls and a painting of the human incarnation of fluorite.
3. The question I hate to answer, but love to ask: are you a pantser…or plotter?
Why? That is a good question! I used to be a hardcore pantser. Genius of spontaneity and all that. And sometimes, if I have a deadline, I will still pants the everyloving crap out individual scenes. But, as a pantser, it wasn't very often I saw the ends of stories and I much too gradually came to realize I was never going to get anything done without something resembling an outline.
I have to be able to physically move plot points around which results in these OneNote tabs that look like QED worksheets. For very long, complex stories, sometimes I resort to taping colored notecards to my closet door.
4. Who are your primary inspirations for writing?
I am going to take a moment to excerpt a conversation I had with GreenJudy about that very thing.
> Corny as it may be, things come to me in dreams. Often, I'm dimly aware
> that I'm dreaming and have the some say in what's going on. I can ring
> room service for a movie, but I only get to pick the genre.
> Or, I'll overhear a thing. "That is a phone that has seen better days".
> What of this phone? I beheld not the phone. But, my brain wanted to know
> about the phone and filled in some info on it's own. This is where my
> most nonsensical notes hail from.
> But, more and more, I find myself engineering scenes. I want to
> accomplish X. What is the best way to do this? Oddly enough, this is
> where a lot of my jokes come from, [when I'm not pantsing them].
> All three of these states have to balance out for a good scene (and I do
> outline by scene).
> Say, the T-rex story. I was dreaming about doppelgangers and soldiers and
> Umi no Aria, only things went horribly wrong, as tings are wont to do.
> This stuck itself to some of my notes that had been otherwise
> languishing. And then I thought: this is a great excuse to write about
> miniature dinosaurs as pets. How would I work one in? You know what would
> be funny? If one SAT on the main character and made T. Rex noises in his
> face. Wait, what noise does a T. Rex make? And then, I posted in LJ [posing that question].
> Plotting and writing work like this for me.
> Plotting makes more stuff / writing walls off the new stuff / revising
> purifies the stuff.
> I think it's like making vodka and being hopelessly bad at it.
4A. I think I'm going to frame "Plotting makes … purifies the stuff" and hang it on my wall! That's the essence of writing for me, right there. And what about literary role models–who are yours?
Well, I already ended up name-dropping one before you asked. Oopsie. I want to disclaim before I say anything else that I think there's a difference between liking a book and looking up to the author. Meaning I dig a whole lot more books by a whole lot more writers than I'm about to list.
-Umberto Eco: "I felt like killing a monk". Is there ever any better reason to turn out a massive tome of a novel? Plus, he writes what he damn well pleases, which is what he knows, which may well be everything awesome ever.
-Mark Danielewski: Supreme lord and master of fucking with the audience.
-Hagio Moto: Created to shonen-ai genre in comics and otherwise made a career of filling women's comic magazines with hard sci-fi and comics about ballerinas if she damnwell felt like it.
-Tanith Lee: has written more imminently readable books in her life than most companies put out over their entire existences.
5. Can you tell us a bit about your current work-in-progress? (Or works-in-progress, whatever the case may be.)
Let me see. I have a novel I keep meaning to revise with some modicum of seriousness, but it weighs about ten pounds and I have, in fact, killed scorpions with it. In the drafting department, the T. rex story ate a bunch of my other outlines, so I have this cute little soft sci-fi slice-of-life tangle of stories going on and very little desire to move on at this point. Oh, and there are two pet ideas which follow me around: the serious one and the not serious one. The serious one I did try to write once and botched. I have no idea how to even outline the not serious one due to a certain prevalence of lying and alcohol.
5A. Well, if you're going to make us wait that long for literary goodness…do you at least have a prize snippet you're willing to share?
Is it Tuesday? No? Well, here's one anyway.
Later that evening while he waited for some bread to rise, Nel emailed Tasso at his "best for social agendas" address, to see if there was anything he absolutely wouldn't eat. He would never have the chance to do as much with a restaurant patron, but he figured: now, while he could. Now, before he'd mentally assembled a menu.
Tasso wrote back almost at once, and it was then that doubt crept up on Nel. Just a little doubt, no more harmful than a dropped fork, but well-founded just the same.
I like: black olives, green olives, red olives, items which contain any of the aforementioned olives.
I don't like: bran; things that taste how grass smells; breakfast cereal; foodstuffs produced by members of the Musa genus.
And here where Nel had bet himself that likes would be all about pizza, Chinese and Bereit lunchboxes (Bereit still flinging its cheese-drenched cuisine across the galaxy despite a heavy backlash in the culinary world).
Musa turned out to bananas.
That, and the request he'd started out with? Not much to go on.
What really threw him though was the part about grass. Nel knew how grass smelled: he lived in the middle of some pretty serious grass. But, he couldn't translate that aroma into a taste. He'd been trying to work on that skill. In fact, he'd probably been working on it when he should have been studying for algebra. It got to annoy him that while he knew what Tasso was getting at, he couldn't have expressed it better than Tasso already had.
So, he clattered down the outside steps of his apartment complex and made his way across the parking lot to the communal yard where he got down on his hands and knees, and shoved his face in the grass for a big, gushing smell of the stuff.
His tongue reacted to the scent. Stirred, though there was no taste per se.
The grass smelled remarkably like grass.
"Nel?" came Ms. Chicklace's voice, and Ms. Chicklace's pink and black flats intruding on the grass he had engaged. "Are you alright?"
"It's for school," he sighed. "I got this hypothetical client who doesn't like the taste of suburbia."
"Ohhh. In that case, I would make sure not to hypothetically serve him macaroni out of a box. That's about the most suburban thing ever," and she laughed a little, one shoe brushing the other. "Not that you'd dream of it."
"I gotta start somewhere. Hey, did anybody loose their keys?"
6. What is your goal or dream for writing?
I've wanted to be published since I was nine. Failing that, I would at least like to leave behind a readable version of the not serious pet outline above. Why? Because heroic atheist lesbians, that's why.
7. Well, that's a great reason! Your profile says you write in the nude. Is this a metaphor for baring yourself to the world through your writing? Or am I just looking too far into that?
Even as I type this, my pants are on the other side of the bedroom! It's hot here. I don't have much of a choice. But, I do have a problem expressing myself verbally. The mind and the mouth do not sync up for me. It's not as bad as it used to be since I've had people INSIST on getting to know me lately. I still get a hell of a lot more across in writing.
8. Ya know, we Floridians believe in something called "A/C"… Besides writing, you seem to have quite a few other creative pursuits. Can you share some of these with us?
I absolutely cannot stand to do nothing. I go stir crazy if I can't be making or doing something. But, I only have so much space, so miniatures work for me. Well, I have been beading more human-sized items lately, but I still sew around 1/4 scale most of the time. Also, I was raised in a family where everyone cooked, so I love-love-love to cook. My favorite thing to make is literal soup du jour where I grab whatever we've got and try to turn it into tasty soup. I also make killer risotto. Seriously- it's got about a half pound of butter in it. Don't eat it and then got get a blood test.
Some other media I've messed around with include Friendly Plastic, Angelina Film and plastic canvas. If I get in the mood or there's a special occasion I will do cartonnage, which is those fabric-covered boxes from your grandmother's bathroom. Great results, but you will trash daylights out of your workspace.
8A. Friendly Plastic, Angelina Film, and plastic canvas? These sound like great band names…but something tells me they're not musical groups.
I would listen the hell out of a band called Angelina Film.
Friendly Plastic, also known as Polycaprolactone, is a plastic that's moldable at 140F. Fantastic Plastic from back in the 80′s was similar, but everyone may rest assured the newer version is less carcinogenic. In fact, it may have medical applications. Anyway, you can dye it, get ink all over yourself and use it to make miniatures or cabochons.
Angelina Film similar to cellophane. You heat it, it sticks to itself and gets all iridescent. The fun part comes when you glue it to an armature first. Oh, but there's lacquer involved too. Lots of lacquer. Everywhere. Still fun though.
Plastic canvas works up like gigantic scale cross stitch, but you can make three-dimension things out of it too. Say, doll furniture. I know that particular application had some fans in the late 80′s, early 90′s. This material in particular may be dismissed as tacky, but anything's tacky in the wrong hands.
8B. Do you find that any of these other pursuits fuel your writing? Do any killer soups du jour show up in your stories?
I did actually end up writing a character who beaded into one of my Halloween porn fests. Very sparkly bonking ensued. And I THINK The Soup That We Don't Talk About in one of my more current projects may be a relative of one that got all weird on me the other day. Protip: frozen pork and frozen giant chicken breasts may be indistinguishable in the depths of the freezer.
9. Tell us a little bit about your dolls. Do you build them? Just their accessories? Both?
I have a collection of Asian Ball-Joint Dolls, otherwise known as those overpriced resin things. I do not have a theme for my collection. Oh, you know, now that I think of it, I know what my pantsing went into. Anyway, I do like fantasy-themed dolls, but I don't buy those exclusively. Also, a lot of writers will get dolls to represent their characters. I have two out of two dozen, and one is actually a reverse character doll- I based the way the character looks on the doll. The rest? They don't need refining and motives and backstories. They just need tiny dashikis and to be hung in palo verde trees for pictures. I did try to build one at one point, but it went badly.
10. And I need to know about these beading kits you're putting together.
Oh, my goodness. I should get you some coffee or something. Long story alert.
These people who have INSISTED on getting to know me are all regulars from my local bead shop. I had not had any corporeal friends in years before I met them. Originally, I would just stop into this shop occasionally for doll props, but they wore me down and got me having conversations and making human-sized things.
The economy still being made of suck and fail, we decided we would invent some kits for our bead store to sell online so it can stick around. And we would do it with Tila beads, which are square, have two holes and make for a pain in the ass 99% of the time. I had this idea that I would use them to make bigger, ornate square units that could be assembled in different ways. This went over way better than I ever thought it would. I ended up teaching it to a bunch of people, who did their own takes on it.
Two months later, we're tentatively expecting three design variations in five colorways each once we get the directions finished and the materials together. I have learned so much. I mean, everything from how to write good directions to the fact French Brittany's turn into balls when they lie down. It's really been an wonderful, though occasionally frustrating, experience and you had better believe I am going to pimp the living daylights out of these things once we have them to sell.
Oh, and I got put in charge of naming the different colors, which has been LOLerous because everything I know about naming fashion items I gleaned from 80′s Avon catalogues.
CD: M., thank you for joining me! It's been a real pleasure! And greatest of luck with those bead kits. Is there a link we'll be able to find them at when they're available?
Oh, thank YOU. I've really enjoyed this exchange myself. And goodness knows I need some luck. Anyway, the kits should be available online at http://www.cosmopolitanbeads.com/ . I'm trying to set it up that people who order online and mention Shipwreck Light get at least a special thank you note. Lynda kinda shot down my free porn idea.
July 19, 2011
Mourn the memories later
Image by Alexander Alekseenko
After a long drought of (even vaguely) meaningful stories while I slaved over novel revisions, it appears I'm full of piss and vinegar and bad ideas.
I want to write about death's head moths and women in white with teeth and scales inside them. I want to write about the reanimated skeleton of a shaman with a hand-stitched suit, made from the flesh of those he's helped (but only for a price). I want to write about the Four Horsemen walking barefoot across Alamogordo, New Mexico during the Trinity atomic tests. I want to write about a girl who sells her soul. I want to write about a Real Doll who drinks blood to come to life. I want to write about a man whose medical fetishism spirals into violent obsession. I want to write about cicadas and centipedes and children living in crawl-spaces. I want to write about angels who breathe smoke. I want to write about carnival side-shows and beast-men and dandy rhinoceroses. I want to write about people with gateways to other places living inside them. I want to write about octopuses. Because I always want to write about octopuses.
Now let's see if anything good actually comes of this.
Mourn the memories later
Image by Alexander Alekseenko
After a long drought of (even vaguely) meaningful stories while I slaved over novel revisions, it appears I'm full of piss and vinegar and bad ideas.
I want to write about death's head moths and women in white with teeth and scales inside them. I want to write about the reanimated skeleton of a shaman with a hand-stitched suit, made from the flesh of those he's helped (but only for a price). I want to write about the Four Horsemen walking barefoot across Alamogordo, New Mexico during the Trinity atomic tests. I want to write about a girl who sells her soul. I want to write about a Real Doll who drinks blood to come to life. I want to write about a man whose medical fetishism spirals into violent obsession. I want to write about cicadas and centipedes and children living in crawl-spaces. I want to write about angels who breathe smoke. I want to write about carnival side-shows and beast-men and dandy rhinoceroses. I want to write about people with gateways to other places living inside them. I want to write about octopuses. Because I always want to write about octopuses.
Now let's see if anything good actually comes of this.
Summer Sessions 2011: Session Seven
SESSION SEVEN: JOLENE FRANCES, INTERVIEWED BY SHILO COULTER
As an artist, journal-keeper and poet, Jolene Frances uses this range of interests and mediums to share some stories about her work, her family and her processes. You can find more on Jolene at her website, Her Coffin.
1. Do you look to learn anything from your art? Similarly, do you look to teach anything with it?
Whether I previously realised it or not, I think I've always been making art in an attempt to simply learn about myself. I'm always questioning, "Who am I really?" Art is my way of figuring that out. As for teaching with my art, I really don't know. I'm not sure what's in it for other people to learn. I'm mostly hoping to inspire others with my art. And to conjure emotion from them.
2. Describe a real life situation that inspired one of your works.
The first thing that comes to mind is one of my art-poems. In February, I made a collage and wrote a poem each day of the month. My very last art-poem of the month, on the 28th, I found out I was pregnant. The poem and image I created are about that experience. My feelings of both awe and terror, knowing that there is a life inside of me. It's the strangest and most beautiful thing I've ever known thusfar.
3. What is your favourite medium to work in?
Though making paper collages will always have a special place in my heart, I must say that I like the digital medium best. Making collages solely with Photoshop is absolutely the most satisfying for me. I think it's probably because you can make your image as perfect as possible when you're doing it digitally. With paper, it can be scary. I always find myself having to take a deep breath and saying, "Ok! Just glue that picture down. Now!" when I'm working with paper. I'm always afraid of the imperfections. But with Photoshop, I can fix anything.
4. Do you ever have trouble finding inspiration or motivation, and if so, do you have any tricks to regain it?
Oh, absolutely. I could show you tons and tons of my written journal entries, that are nothing but me bitching about how I can't find the inspiration or motivation to create anything. Haha .. I'm still looking for tricks to regain it. If I really knew, I would be a much more prolific artist. The only thing I know for sure is – you have to force yourself to create, even if you're not feeling creative. It's hard to do, but I think that's really the only way to regain the inspiration. You have to force it.
5. Do you see your art as a career or hobby?
I see it as a passion, or a compulsion. More than anything, I do it because I just feel compelled to. I feel like I have to do it or I'd go insane. I'd love to make a career out of it, but I'm quite bad at business sense, self-promotion, and networking. All of which are necessary to make a career, I believe.
6. What are some of your other interests?
Scrabble, journalling, writing poetry, and eating cake.
7. What is something you wish other artists would understand?
I wish that other artists would understand that I'm awesome, and let me into their social circles. Haha
8. Decor-wise, do you surround yourself with your own art, or the work of others?
Definitely the work of others! I like to call myself a "collector of beauty." I like to surround myself with things that inspire me. I take bits and pieces of the things I love to create something new and beautiful.
9. On average, how long does it take to complete an art piece?
I usually like to create things in one day. I'm not really one to go back and revise my work or add to it in any way. I tell myself when it's done, it's done. Imperfections and all. I usually start working when it's dark out and end up finishing when the birds start chirping.
10. Do you listen to music (and do you have certain playlists) or do you need silence while you're working?
Music, music, music! Absolutely. Really, I'm not sure if I could even work without music. I think that music, more than anything, is what inspires my pieces. I base what I listen to on what sort of mood I want to conjure up. My art is always about emotion. And music is a natural part of emotion, for me.
11. Finally, because it should be asked of all artists if only to drive them crazy, what's your favourite colour?
If this counts as a colour, then my favourite is silver. If not, then I don't reckon I have a favourite colour! I used to always say black, but that's not true anymore. I'm quite fond of Easter pastels. And the colour scheme of black, white, and red.
July 18, 2011
Summer Sessions 2011: Session Six
SESSION SIX: J.A. PAK, INTERVIEWED BY REBECCA BLAIN
Known for her extensive blogging and off-beat style, poet and author J.A. Pak takes a moment to discuss self-publishing, her recent anthology and future projects. You can find on her at her website, JA-PAK.com.
When many people think of creative writing, novels, books and short stories come to mind. You have dipped your hands into these things, and have added a special flare of humor to almost everything you do. Your website shows your creative ability with humor, and your stories have a depth (not just in humor, but more serious subjects as well!) that practically ooze inspiration and creativity.
What inspires you to be so creative with both your writing and your website?
Thank you—I'm so glad you found the humor. That's a tough question. With my website, I just wanted it to be fun. And my stories just tend to come that way from my muse.
Have you always had a flare with such creativity? If not, how did you learn to be so creative?
I'm not really sure. I always had a different way of thinking and I suppose that could be termed as creativity.
You have released an anthology called Act of Creation & Other Stories. What was the defining moment that made you realize that you wanted to take your stories and create a book with them?
I'd wanted to do a collection of food-inspired short stories for quite a while. At one point I had about eight stories, but most of them didn't really fit in with the theme or didn't stand the test of time. When I decided to explore self-publishing with ebooks, a mini food collection just seemed to make sense. Act is really a test drive for me.
What work was involved in preparing Act of Creation for publication?
Luckily, since all the stories had been previously published, there wasn't a great deal to do in terms of editing. I just did some last-minute proofreading. From there on, it was really all technical, like ebook formatting, finding out about distributors, etc. And of course, creating a cover for the ebook.
There are many people who are undecided over self-publication versus traditional publication. What have your experiences been?
Traditional publication takes a lot of time. After writing the book, you'll probably need to find an agent. That can take a year, several years, or never. Even with an agent, you may or may not find a publisher. If you find a publisher, it'll take anywhere from a year to a couple of years for your book to find its way into a bookstore—sometimes never, as book contracts do get canceled. Self-publication, if you go the ebook route, is about a month (two weeks for Act because it was a mini collection). Of course, you'll handle all the publicity work yourself, but you know, you'll do a good deal of that even with a publisher unless you're already famous.
The other thing is that you have a lot more freedom doing it yourself. Like big trade publishers don't print individual stories or even novellas. You can do both with your own ebooks.
Do you regret the decisions that you have made?
Self-publishing my collection? No, not at all. I plan to self-publish many more stories in the next year or so. In fact, I'm getting ready to release my novella Seal Skin. In prep, an excerpt is already up at Fictionaut.
If you could change anything about how you approach your writing, what would you change and why?
I would love to be able to write on demand. Wouldn't it be fantastic if you could just sit down and say, "Okay, will write the first draft of x story in the next four hours" and have it happen?
July 17, 2011
Summer Sessions 2011: Session Five
SESSION FIVE: MELISSA DOMINIC, INTERVIEWED BY NOEL GAYLE
With a flair for the post-apocalyptic, author Melissa Dominic discusses her mix-and-match sense of minimalism, her love for the complex dynamics of cities, and just what it means to be a Data Gypsy. You can find more about Melissa at her website, Broken Nerves.
1. Where did you get the green dia de los muertos skull featured in
the sandwich pic currently at the top of your page of bloggage?
In Miami, there's a little bit of awesome that is known as The Miami
Book Fair International. Last year, there was a large push in the
culture of Mexico as part of the theme. I picked up one of the Dia De
Los Muertos skulls because I'm quite a fan of the holiday, especially
because my birthday falls on November 2nd – All Soul's Day, one of the
days of the celebration. The little skull was cheap, in one of my
favourite colours and I leave it on my desk like it's my little friend
or something.
2. Being well aware that asking a writer about the source(s) of their
inspiration is about as useful as greasing oneself up and trying to
slide to China…would or could you at least attempt to relate the
mindset and the circumstances surrounding the writing of A
Contortionists Love Story? Pretty please?
Since you picked such an easy one to talk about, I can do that! Last
November was my lucky month, it seems. I also got a chance to go see
Cirque de Soliel's "Kooza" under the big top in Miami. They usually
have a contortionist trio that does a sequence, but, this time one of
them wasn't performing, so it was just two women. After I got back,
the way they twisted and folded into one another had me thinking for a
few days on end. A pinch of creepiness and I was able to write the
story in one shot. It comes across a whole lot less glamorous then the
end result does, I'm sure.
3. When I read Ithica and the Pack of Wolves I immediately got
flashbacks to Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome (the one time I saw the ending), Midgar City from FFVII and the city that is the backdrop and focus of Kakurenbo, an anime short film. Having explored the various online locales that you have and maintain, I have come to recognize your fascination for cities, a fascination that comes across in your description of the blackened city in Ithica. Could you tell us a little bit about this city, how it got this way and how the people within it survive from day to day?
The Black City is a city I am still working on and it sometimes goes
by several names, but, it is the major area in the story set known as
Cartography, existing just outside the only normal funtioning city in
nation it's a part of. It's the backdrop to my collection of gypsys,
mapmakers and gypsy mapmakers who roam the battered landscape trying
to remap what is left of the nation after a deadly virus and war had
ravaged it. While I still don't have all the perfect answers, I can
say that the Black City is mostly run community style – everyone
helping one another where they can, importing and exporting goods and
using barter systems between them. Without the people, there would be
no city. It is probably the largest of the areas of it's type in what
is left of the nation at the start of Cartography, but it isn't the
only one of its kind.
4. "It left the outer cities in dirt and dark, left them not really
cities at all, but loose groupings of buildings and people." This is a
beautiful turn of phrase. At the end of reading this, I can see the
shattered cities and broken skyscrapers. What do you draw on to find the emotional resonance with which you infuse your words? Is your writing mainly stream of consciousness (which I suspect) or more crafty and word for word?
I actually am extremely meticulous when it comes to chosing my words
and I can spend forever tweaking a sentence until it is just right for
me. Before I properly began in fiction, I studied and wrote poetry
almost exclusively. I think, because of this, I am really detail
oriented when it comes to my fiction work and I like to make sure each
and every single word, phrase, sentence, paragraph (etc, etc, etc…)
is the best it can be, said in the most concise way and also has a
particular sound when read outloud. You can always find me at the
computer, re-reading my work outloud, just to make sure it has the
right sound.
5. What is it about cities that fascinate you so?
The short answer would be everything. From the way they function, to
the histories in the people that have passed through them, to the ways
they've evolved over time. Every single thing you can imagine about a
city facinates me. I think, though, I've sort of pinned down why I am
so facinated with cities. I'm a girl who grew up in a smaller-type
town in northern New Jersey, just across from New York City itself. I
spent seventeen years of my life trying to escape it – never
completely happy with where I lived, but I was always observant of the
place, even if it was only in an effort to explain how much I disliked
it, and eventually, when I packed up and moved to Miami in 2001, after
two months or so I was homesick. Disgustingly homesick. To the point
that some days, I am still homesick. While I learned to love Miami and
I was and am still in awe by it daily, I realized you can leave a
place, but you can never really leave it and as a person, you become
the places you live. You are your enviroment.
People, to me, are a sum of what is around them. Once I started
looking at it that way, that was when I became even more obsessed with
cities and places and really developing them in my stories. It seemed
to be where my best work came from. It seemed to be what I enjoyed in
other novels the most. Things like Dark Dark Cities and Places We've
Never Been sprung up in my mind and they were all cenetered around the
world that can develop when you just try to populate a piece of land.
For me, a city is another character in the story. It reflects
everything: the plot, the theme, the characters, the emotion. I try to
make my stories unable to exist anywhere else other than where they
exist. The city and the person, the story, the idea, can't be pulled
from one another.
6. The short piece Cartography, combined with the concept of Dark Dark Cities paints a picture of desolate cities dotting the landscape of broken nations, inhabited with those that survive and adapt and those that don't and are preyed on; the places that Dark Dark Cities was set up to map out and explore. Do you plan to do anything else with this concept/digital domain in the future? If no, why not?
I have quite a few plans for Dark Dark Cities! Once I realized that I
cared about having really specialized cities for my stories to exist
in, I began to pare them down and combine stories, trying to get to
the core of the places I want to talk about. Each city itself has a
certain type of story to be told in it: some of them are more focused
on being post-apocalyptic (Cartography), cyberpunk/speculative
futurist/magical realistic (District Heights) and even bubble-gum
coloured future noir (Stereoport). My plan is to have this place be
their home, to express all these different stories through one main
channel. The idea is, at it's heart, every city is dark, but we live
in them and love in them every single day.
Right now I am working on a story for District Heights that I hope to
be able to seralize on Dark Dark Cities once it is complete.
7. The term Data Gypsy brings to mind a dancer on the seas of
information, or in them, slipping from stream to stream, stopping only to save a rare bit of info or shake the accumulated digital flotsam from her skirts. Do you take the name seriously? What does it invoke in your mind?
In my own way, I definately do take the term seriously. The
terminology mostly comes from me trying to describe Ithica (from
Ithica and the Pack of Wolves and Cartography), who is probably the
closest representation of myself I've ever put down to paper. My own
personal style itself is very cyberpunk/data gypsy mixed with a bit of
mori girl and most people don't expect it of me. After reading my
stories and even seeing some images of me online, they expect a
constantly goggled girl who is always wearing slick black and
razorblades and while I totally would love to be a Gibsoneque
Razorgirl, it isn't in me. I'm all flowing layers and I think the
image you've got going on right there is spot on. I'm a data gypsy,
wearing too many layers of light fabric, old boots and torn up
tanktops, surverying the land for information and collecting it in my
side pouch for later use.
8. Have you ever wanted to live in one of the fictional cities that
your characters inhabit? (Of course). Which one and why?
Oh yes! Once I got thinking about it though, the answer slighty
surprised me. While I love the dirt and dank of most of my cities, I'd
actually love to live in Stereoport, where everything is blazing
bright and art-fueled. I guess the idea of a city where I can shove
away responsibility for a little while and dodge criminals and become
a gang member and have it mean more like being part of family than
anything dangerous seems sort of… fun. Soccer matches every Sunday
morning and all-hours maid cafe styled diners where I can eat taco
rice at 3am? While the city in Steam Gutterwork entices me like you
wouldn't believe, I'd make my home in Stereoport, for sure.
9. You speak of the loss of internet community, and more specifically, the loss of your LJ community, as a heart breaking loss; a loss I can very well understand. How did this affect your writing? How did it colour its ongoing mood and tone, if any at all?
Above all, I had to learn to write alone. It's tough and it still is
tough when you come from a background that involved a lot of
community-based literature and instant gratification. It can be rough
in the way that I no longer know for certain if something works or
not, but, you find the people whose opinion you begin to value and
they open up their own stories to you in the same way you open up your
stories to them and at some point, you can go to them with one hundred
questions and they will have one hundred answers. Finding those people
is hard. I still don't have all the people I can carry in my pocket
and I still am always looking for more.
It does hurt, still, but, I think by being vocal about it, I've found
more people who are suffering through similar types of loss and that
brings me more people to discuss stuff with. Which I like. A lot.
10. I find your writing to be in the vein of Steampunk/Dark
Sci-Fantasy; Steam Gutterwork is a fine example of this (and another example of a world I wish you would explore more. :P). This has clearly developed over the years you've been writing. Stop and think about whether or not I am right in my assessment of your style, and share some of the influences that you are certain led to your development of this style.
I find your assessment of my style to be very interesting. It's not
really for me to say if it is right or if it is wrong, but, I can tell
you I view my own work slightly differently. I've jokingly referred to
my own work as post-post on occasion. I have post/cyberpunk sentiments
and post-apocalyptic leanings and I've spend a lot of time crafting
speculative futures and dabbling in magical realism (or at the very
least, total-belief-suspension-on-really-weird-crap) and I've wrapped
it all up with a extra-heavy dose of minimalism.
There are things I know for certain fact have lead to my style,
though, I am unsure if they're the sort of things people expected.
While I love William Gibson as an author and yes, I am completely
inspired by him and everyone always throws that name out first, I
didn't discover any of his work until I was twenty-one, after I had
already been writing for some time. I'm more heavily influenced by the
things I see and the things I hear other than things I've read.
You've mentioned both anime and video games and I have to admit that
Midgar from FFVII was totally an early influence of mine. It was one
of the few things I've seen, visually, that sort of expressed all the
things I wanted to say before saying it. Also, Cannabis Works by
Tatsuyuki Tanaka is one of the art books I am constantly going back
to, trying to squeeze it for all it's inspiration. I spent a lot of my
youth pillaging anything that came out of Japan, anything from Akira
to Cooking Master Boy to Suikoden and even every day street culture.
Just random things. I pull from everywhere.
Other than that, I'm also extremely influenced by music – post-rock to
be exact and rap music when I'm feeling amusing. I can easily say I've
penned most of Stereoport while listening to Drake's "Thank Me Later"
on repeat and the entire Stereoport idea came from seeing Major Lazer
play ULTRA 2010. Music on long busrides or while sitting in the
backseat of someone's car is probably the most inspiring to me.
Also, I should mention, there'll be a sequel to Steam Gutterwork being
published soon, so, I haven't totally abandoned you on that!
