Deborah J. Ross's Blog, page 124

Ambient Music: Conni St. Pierre’s “Spirits” Albums

I’m always in search of music to write by. Everyone’s needs (not to mention tastes!) are different. Added to this, I’m like many writers in having a fairly narrow set of requirements for “writing music,” but when I play the same pieces over and over again, they might as well be white noise. It’s downright depressing to find that an old favorite has been drained of joy by excessive repetition (not to mention becoming emotionally contaminated by stories that just won’t come together!)
I came across Conni St. Pierre’s work through an amazing community serendipity. She calls her music “meditations, tone poems, and ambient improvisations.” As I understand it, “ambient music” provides atmosphere and flexible structure to some other activity — in this case, writing. 
The three albums I have are Mountain Spirits, Forest Spirits, and Beyond the Sky: Legends of the Starry Night. She plays native flute, shakuhachi (Japanese bamboo flute), and alto flute, as well as keyboards and other instruments. The flutes give the pieces a haunting quality, but not in the way so much “New Age” music ends up being emotionally manipulative. Listening to many of the tracks, I felt as if I had wandered into a borderland between ordinary and dream realities. There’s just enough melody to create a sense of movement, but not so much as to be distracting. I found that I could wander between the story I was writing and listening to the music with seamless ease and without any sense of losing my place in either. I found myself setting my CD player on endless repeat but never feeling that the music was taking me around in circles, as it were.
You can listen to her music on her website here. The piece on the upper left, “Crossing the Never Summer,” is from Mountain Spirits. You can click through to get more samples. My favorite of the three albums was Beyond the Sky: Legends of the Starry Night, with such pieces as “Message in a Dream” and “Darkness Before Creation.” I found the albums to be uniform enough to have no jarring surprises and varied enough to not get monotonous.
What are your current favorite pieces of music for writing?

Guest Post: Elizabeth Moon's "Chainsaw of Correction"

The Chainsaw of Correction Is Being Applied to Scenes of Great
Beauty and No Particular Utility.

There was snarling from the Chainsaw
And weeping from the words
As whole paragraphs broke open
and stray letters flew like birds.
There was savagery and violence
beneath the Chainsaw's roar
And the velvet curtains shredded
In a whirlwind of rose gore.

For the Writer had decreed
from her throne and keyboard fine,
"There has got to be some cutting!
I must draw a thick black line!
Though this character is charming
Though her face is very fair
She must earn her place in this book
Or I'll yank her out of there!"

"But" the fair-faced character pleaded
"I'm a queen, you know that well!
I am gracious, I am stately
And I fight so very well."
"Then advance the plot," cried Writer
As the Chainsaw snarled its song,
"Or like all this other rubbish
You'll be gone by midnight's gong."

Though it's vivid, no description
Can escape the Chainsaw's bite
Without being more plot-relevant
Than a tourist's pretty sight.
Conversations too are falling
One by one and two by two
And as branches crash around them
Story's real road comes in view.

Weighty ponderings of nobles,
Clever backchat from a child,
Long and boring dissertations:
Their death sentences are filed.
Does it matter who dismounted first?
Not a bit...then cut it out.
Does it matter what they ate for lunch
or what they talked about?

Ever onward through the undergrowth
The Chainsaw snarls its way...
(But writing verse will not get done
What must be done today.)


Elizabeth Moon, a Texas native, is a Marine Corps veteran with degrees in history and biology. She began writing stories in childhood but did not make her first fiction sale until age forty. She has published twenty-three novels, including Nebula Award winner The Speed of Dark, three short-fiction collections including Moon Flights in 2007, and over thirty short-fiction pieces in anthologies and magazines. Her latest book is Kings of the North (second book of Paladin's Legacy) a return to the world of The Deed of Paksenarrion, and the third in that group, Crisis of Vison, is due out in 2012.  The first book of Paladin's Legacy, Oath of Fealty, is now in paperback also.
In non-writing hours, she enjoys nature photography, gardening, cooking, Renaissance style fencing, messing about with horses, and music, including singing in a church choir. And wasting time online, of course...

Thunderlord snippet - In The Mountains

Please remember that this is a work in progress and drafts have a habit of changing drastically from inception to finished book.

From Thunderlord Chapter 6





They paused now and again, mostly to give the horses a breather after a steep climb. When the slope was not severe, they went on slowly, at a pace everyone could manage. The humans ate when they could, but there was nothing for the horses. Past midday, Francisco called for the men, Edric included, to dismount to ease the burden on the beasts. Dom Francisco protested, but weakly, as if he realized the wisdom of saving his breath for the climb. Although the captain pointedly excluded the women, Kyria got off and insisted she was strong enough to lead her horse.
“That way,” she explained to Francisco, as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world, “if  Alayna’s horse needs a rest, she can ride mine.” With those words, she took the reins and headed uphill, taking her place behind Timas.
Edric led his horse beside her, for the trail here was wide enough for two animals to walk abreast. “That was a kind thought, but hardly necessary. Neither you nor your sister are stout enough to pose much of a burden.”
“That is as it may be,” she replied with a hint of tartness, as if she were quoting someone else, “but is hardly the point.”
“What is the point, then?”
“Can you not guess?” She glanced at him, mischief hovering at the corners of her eyes. “I have not been waited on and pampered all my life, and I do not intend to begin now.”
My promised husband –Edric, caught off his guard, heard her thought in his mind – will doubtless try to turn me into a beribboned plaything, but he will not succeed!
“I – excuse me, damisela,” Edric stammered, quickly slamming his laranbarriers closed.
“Why, whatever for?” She gave him a curious look, as if she too had sensed the moment of their rapport, but had not known what to make of it.
Thinking fast, he replied, “For joining ranks with those who would pamper you.”
She laughed, a sound that rang through him like silvery bells. “You have not offended me, or if you have, it is not for that!”
“How have I offended you, lady?”
“By asking too many questions.”

The Tajji Diaries: More Progress

Tajji dreamingIt’s been a few months since I’ve posted our adventures in rehabilitating our retired service dog. Tajji, a 10 ½ year old German Shepherd Dog, could no longer perform seeing eye work due to extreme reactivity to other dogs and sometimes strange people. We’ve had her a year now, and most of that time has been spent working on making her retirement calm and happy.
When Tajji came to live with us, she was not accustomed to cats, although we suspect she had been exposed to them in her pre-training foster home. Our two dog-savvy cats, black male Shakir and brown-tabby-and-white Gayatri, patiently taught her “cat manners.” She in turn taught them fun games. Shakir in particular will invite play with her and the two of them romp about the house. Tajji will gently place a paw on Shakir’s back and he must not mind terribly, because he never hisses or lays his ears back. We haven’t found them curled up together yet, but they often sleep within inches of each other. On the few occasions that Gayatri has escaped the house, Tajji has happily “herded” her back. (Since our neighborhood is also home to coyotes, bobcats, and the occasional mountain lion, we keep our cats indoors.)
One source of stress for Tajji was the entrance of human visitors into our yard. We put up a sign on the back gate, asking folks to ring the hanging bell or call us so that we could settle Tajji in her crate before letting them in. After some practice, Tajji became comfortable just being in the house. Recently, we have found her sitting inside the gate when a friend (or sometimes she’s never met) comes to call, politely waiting to be introduced. Her greeting skills have improved, too. Since she knows “touch,” we ask the visitor to hold one hand at their side, palm out. We tell Tajji, “Touch,” and the moment she does, we call her back for a treat. She now understands that it is not okay to jump on people, although if she gets excited, she will jump sideways in front of them.
By far, Tajji’s biggest challenge remains other dogs. After a break of about a month from her Playing fetch“reactive rover” practice sessions, we expected some backsliding when exposed to a strange dog in the class setting. Our teacher paired her with a fairly relaxed young female Golden Retriever, who had a short threshold for dog reactivity. She placed the Golden outside a round wire pen used for agility training, and Tajji outside on the opposite side. At first, they walked parallel to one another, then one would stay still while the other moved, since movement increases reactivity, and gradually the distance was lessened. Somewhat to our surprise, Tajji sailed through the session without a single bark. In fact, when it was her turn to remain still, she lay down with her back to the Golden, a sign of relaxation. Clearly, she has continued to process and integrate the training of other dogs = good things, no danger.

Tajji has had particular difficulty with small dogs. One day, while Dave was walking her, a small terrier mix got free from its yard and charged her, yapping away. Tajji went into bark/lunge arousal. Since we know she has excellent bite inhibition, he dropped the leash; dogs who are restrained — on a leash or, worse yet, tied up — are much more reactive than dogs who are free to take care of themselves. Tajji rushed up to the terrier who turned tail for home. When called, Tajji returned to Dave with a big happy doggie-grin and much less arousal. In fact, she has been less excited by small dogs ever since.
We have worked with Tajji on recall (coming when called) since we’ve had her. We did this using highest-value treats (like freeze dried liver or lamb lungs) and settings when there were no overwhelming distractions, until she was solid. By solid, I mean that within a second or two, she runs full speed back to us. Most of the time, she will come to a sit right in front of us. This training was put to a test a couple of weeks ago when we tried her out on deer. Deer are a perennial pest to all gardeners, of course, but the drought has driven them down from the hills in search of water. The mountain lions follow the deer (and one has been seen near the elementary school, so this is not a good thing). A small herd of deer hang out in the meadow adjacent to our property and they have gotten very bold. Noticing three of them, I waved my arms and yelled, “Shoo!” but they just stared at me. As an experiment, we let Tajji off leash. It took her a moment to focus on the deer as she does not have the high prey drive of most German Shepherd Dogs, high prey drive not being desirable in a guide dog. She lunged, the deer took off, and she got the idea. She chased them out of the meadow at a full-out run. Just as they were heading up the hill on the other side of the street, Dave called Tajji. She whirled around and raced back to him, tail wagging. The deer may be a good game, but making her people happy is even better.

Thunderlord snippet - Caring For Horses

Please remember that this is a work in progress and drafts have a habit of changing drastically from inception to finished book.


From Thunderlord, Chapter 5



Francisco chuckled. “You seem to have some skill in healing, my friend. Can I presume upon you further to make sure none of our horses has taken hurt from hard travel in the snow? One of them was moving stiffly for some hours, although the rider can find nothing amiss with its hooves.” Here, as throughout Darkover, men tended to the needs of their beasts before seeing to their own comfort.
Edric answered that he would be glad to help. He pulled on his jacket and thick woolen cloak from where they hung on pegs beside the door. Geraldo, a silent man who took charge of the animals, had found a lantern, and the two of them went out to the lean-to. The body heat of the animals had already warmed the air, and the place smelled of the grain that had been stored there as fodder. The guards had already performed the basic, essential care of picking out hooves and rubbing salve on withers rubbed bare.
After a few minutes, Edric relaxed his laran barriers. He had no special empathy with animals, as the Ridenow and MacArans were said to possess, but his early training as a monitor allowed him to sense disruptions in the energy flow of living things. When he bent to inspect the legs and feet of the horse that Francisco indicated, he reached out with his psychic senses as well, probing for deeper injuries that might not yet manifest, even to a trained horseman. One of the horses, better suited to pack work than carrying a grown man, which it clearly had, and over long distances, flinched very slightly when he pressed hard along its back. If he had been alone or with a group of leroni, trained in Tower ways, Edric would have used his starstone to sharpen his senses and amplify the power of his mind. But he didn’t know these people or their purposes. While trail truce might hold while they were snowbound, that did not compel their silence. A single, ordinary traveler might pass with little remark, but a trained telepath, wielding a matrix with skill…no, he dared not draw that kind of attention to himself. Aldaran was still a long way off.
“I think this fellow’s a bit saddle-sore,” Edric remarked, giving the horse a pat on the neck. The horse swung its bony head around, regarding him with a dark, liquid eye, as if to say, You can’t fool me. I know what you are.
“There’s a supply of herbs in the shelter,” Edric went on. “I’ll make up a heating mixture.” When Francisco raised an eyebrow skeptically, as if to ask how a poultice was going to remain on the horse’s back for any length of time, Edric elaborated, “I’ll massage it in every couple of hours.”
“Surely one of my men can do that…sir.”
“I’ll move my gear out here and sleep above the hay rick. It’ll be warm enough.” Edric kept his tone light.  The unspoken fact hung between them, that Dom Ruyven would be more comfortable without his presence.  As for himself, the less time he spent in the company of strangers, the less chance he would be remarked upon and his identity revealed.

Behold, The Ruby Seadragon!

2015 is shaping up to be an amazing year for paleontological discoveries, but also of new contemporary species. This one is just too glorious to miss. It's a new species of seadragon, which look like seahorses but are larger. Until now, only two species were known -- now there is a third, a delight to the fantasy lover as well as the marine biologist.






The photo was taken by the Scripps Institution of Oceanography. You can read more about the discovery here.

Middle Earth's Calligrapher

Daniel Reeve, who did the beautiful maps and calligraphy for Peter Jackson's adaptation of The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit, displays his work on his website.

If you click under Fonts, you will find not only samples but one you can purchase.

Calligraphy by Daniel Reeve
Enjoy!

Auntie Deborah Advises…Dating Advice

 Dear Auntie,
After way too many experiencse dating angsty, unemployed vampires, I finally met a nice, soft-spoken, polite man. He even has a fairly normal name, Norman. He even has a job, working at a motel. Things were going very well when I realized something was a little “off.” I wonder if that’s my own projection from my past romantic relationships. How do I know what’s normal? Anyway, he’s invited me to meet his mother. What should I bring?— Buffy
Dear Buffy,
You are wise to trust your instincts, for they have served you well through many perils. All too often, women are trained to ignore our gut feelings about a person or situation.  We allow ourselves to be persuaded into dangerous circumstances instead of standing up for ourselves. Norman may be what he seems, but he may harbor a darker side that your intuition is warning you about.

My advice is to come prepared for anything. Never mind flowers or a bottle of wine! Bring your slayer arsenal — stakes, spears, swords, the works — and keep your wits about you. Make sure you have an exit strategy if things go sour. And whatever you do, do not get into the shower.

— Auntie Deborah

Colliding galaxies

The universe is filled with glorious objects, and understanding the science adds to their fascination. In this image from the Hubble Space Telescope two galaxies collide.






"The stars in the two galaxies, cataloged as NGC 4038 and NGC 4039, very rarely collide in the course of the ponderous cataclysm, lasting hundreds of millions of years. But their large clouds of molecular gas and dust often do, triggering furious episodes of star formation near the center of the cosmic wreckage."

Read more here.

Thunderlord snippet - Snowstorm

Please remember that this is a work in progress and drafts have a habit of changing drastically from inception to finished book.


From Thunderlord  Chapter4

With a start, Kyria realized that the snow in front of them was not smooth. A set of tracks marked the center of trail, although the edges were blurred with new snow and the whipping of the wind. Even so, she thought they had been made by a one animal or several, traveling single file.
The captain, who had been riding point, called out, “There it is!” 
Kyria looked up from the blurred tracks, her spirits rising, to see a snug stone house at the end of the glen. Even at this distance, it appeared to have been constructed from the same gray stone as the ridge. The roof slanted sharply, extending past the house itself to form the top of a livestock paddock. Two animals moved in the shadows there  – horses she thought, for they looked too large to be chervines. And smoke arose from the chimney on the opposite side.
The smoke terrified Kyria, and her terror confused and embarrassed her. She had gone out to check her traps a hundred times and never felt this vulnerable. But then she had been on her father’s lands. Thenshe had not been the promised wife of a great lord, one whose enemies might seek to harm him through her.
I’m surrounded by armed men, sworn to protect me.
I’m in the middle of nowhere, and I have no idea who that is in the shelter. He might be a perfectly innocent fellow traveler. Or a powerful sorcerer, who would think nothing of disposing of anyone who got in his way.
“Why have we stopped?” came Alayna’s plaintive voice. She sounded as chilled, hungry, and exhausted as Kyria felt.
“There’s someone already there!” Kyria called back. Then she saw the captain coming toward them.
“Is it safe?” DomRuyven shouted.
If it weren’t, Kyria had no idea what they would do. Whoever was in the shelter might not have noticed their approach yet. They could still turn back – and go where? Alayna could not withstand the cold much longer.