Deborah J. Ross's Blog, page 155

Today's blog... Connections — convention panels, knitting, and Afghanistan

is over at Book View Cafe here. An excerpt:



Now comes the interesting part. At breakfast, I noticed a group of
women wearing hijabs (head-scarves) sitting together at a table.
Clearly, they were not attending the convention. I greeted them,
explaining that I was to moderate a panel on Islamic fantasy and asking
if they had opinions about how Muslims are portrayed in contemporary
literature, who gets it right, what they find offensive. Only one of the
women spoke English, and she referred me to their (male) translator,
who was quite willing to speak with me, but only about the purpose of
the group. 






It turns out that this was a group of Afghan women, traveling in the
United States to heighten consciousness of the plight of women under the
resurgent Taliban. "Do not forget Afghanistan," he told me. "Do not
forget these brave women," and went on to describe how they had, at
great cost and danger to themselves, set up schools and businesses.




It turns out that one of my charitable causes is afghans for Afghans,
which sends hand-knit and crocheted blankets and sweaters, vests, hats,
mittens, and socks to the beleaguered people of Afghanistan.

Delicious lines

The Spangled Pandemonium
Is missing from the zoo.
He bent the bars the barest bit,
And slithered glibly through.



from the poem by that name by Palmer Brown



Why didn't I think of "Spangled Pandemonium"? It's so wonderful!

Twitterview tomorrow!

Monday, November 7th, at 10 am PST, I'll be interviewed on Twitter. Just follow the hashtag #twitterview and join in!

World Fantasy Convention - Re-entry

H. Bosch, c. 1480

I don't know if the 12-hour drive home was a good thing or a bad thing. Certainly, it was tiring when we were already saturated with meetings and ideas, too many parallel tracks of sensory input, too much intellectual and creative stimulation and not nearly enough sleep. But also, it gave us time to make the transition from con-world to mundane-world. Via Denny's, which is neither here nor there except that we know the senior menu by heart, so it requires no functioning neurons to order.



It can be jarring, to say the least, to go from a community in which it's okay/expected to meet the eyes of anyone else wearing a badge, to smile, to feel free to introduce yourself, to assume that you have something in common, to discover that not only you do but that it's deeper and more delightful complex than you anticipated. Etc., etc., all the reasons we love conventions. We go from there to the world of freeway road rage, to knowing ourselves to be isolated geeks, and environments in which it is definitely unsafe to make eye contact with strangers, especially if we are female.




I always feel this wrenching as a loss. It doesn't matter how tired I am or how homesick, how much I long for my own bed (or if I've gone alone, to sleep beside my husband and wake up to his smile), my own kitchen, my pets, the redwoods. I know we can't always live at the intensity of a good convention -- we'd collapse in short order. But those weekends nourish me. The rest of the time, I hang out with friends and colleagues on the internet and I try to get together with those within driving range (and I live with another writer). The people in my small town are friendly, neighborly, even if they have no comprehension of why I love fantasy and science fiction. I'm part of many other communities, some of them very dear to me. But that doesn't change the feeling of -- is it relief? -- when I walk into a room and feel like I'm with "my people."



(Conventions aren't for everyone, and if they're not something you enjoy -- first of all, there's nothing either right or wrong about your preference, and second, please don't let anyone pressure you into attending.)



Even if we are saying, "See you soon," instead of, "Farewell," parting is or should not be instantaneous. Moving from one world to another takes energy, and that means time and mindfulness. Being fully present with the discrepancies, the changes in rhythms and expectations, and our own internal emotional landscape.



I think I've about arrived home now. Except for the back rooms in my mind, where the most amazing people are hanging out and talking about imaginary things that matter more than real ones...

Q & A On NaNoWri Mo (borrowed from Jim C. Hines)

Horace Scudder, 1903

Jim C. Hines posted an interview with himself on the national write-a-novel-in-a-month challenge, with such wonderful questions I've borrowed them and supplied my own answers. 



What are you doing National Novel Writing Month this year, Deborah?

Cheering on my friends. I'll be starting the first round of editorial revisions for my fantasy trilogy, The Seven-Petaled Shield. Revising is a very different process from drafting. I find that drafting goes better when I do it quickly, so I don't get caught in second-guessing myself or editing as I write. Both are recipes for disaster and paralysis. Revising, on the other hand, does not reliably produce any measurable result in terms of pages or words. I dive into it and call it quits every day when my brain won't function any longer.



How does NaNoWriMo compare to real writing?


Writing is writing, as Jim pointed out (you have read his post, haven't you?) Every writer does it a little differently, and I think most of us change from project to project and also over the course of our careers. Challenges, whether novel-length or short-length, can be fun or oppressive, pointless or a marvelous way to jump-start a new story.




Doesn't it bother you when hundreds of thousands of people
every year turn your career, the dream job you've worked at for 16
years, into some kind of game?


You say "game" as if it's a bad thing. If some aspect of writing isn't fun -- and there are wonderful professional writers who hate to write but love to have written -- then why do it? The community-building that happens during NaNoWriMo is one of its more attractive aspects. Writing is a solitary activity, so it's wonderful to have those "hundreds of thousands" of compadres cheering you on.




Sorry. Do you think it's possible to write a good novel in 30 days?


Yes and no. Some writers can produce a solid first draft in a month, so that's the yes part.On the other hand, I'm skeptical of any first draft, no matter how long it takes, being "a good novel." I suppose some writers do so much planning and so much reflection on each sentence that their first drafts-on-paper are really third-drafts-in-the-mind. In the end, though, the goal is not to produce a good novel but to write quickly and and consistently and to push through to the end.




Isn't the emphasis on quantity over quality a bad thing, teaching participants to write crap?


Most writers don't need to be taught how to write crap. We do that very nicely all on our own, thank you. However, writing challenges can teach us to get the story down on paper (or phosphors), which is a necessary first step to a polished final draft. The rewards of actually finishing a novel draft, no matter how much revision it will need, should not be underestimated. Even if that novel is indeed crap, it is finished -- the writer now knows that he or she is capable of completing it. That in itself is worth celebrating.



Another thought on crap. If you aren't writing it and you never have, you aren't doing your job. You aren't taking chances or pushing edges or just splatting out what's in the back of your semi-conscious mind. You are allowing your inner critic to silence your creative spirit.




Eric Rosenfield says NaNoWriMo's whole attitude is "repugnant,
and pollutes the world with volumes upon volumes of one-off novels by
people who don't really care about novel writing."

I seriously doubt that what is wrong with this world is the surfeit of aspiring novelists. And I can't imagine why anyone would put herself through NaNoWriMo if she didn't 'care about novel writing.' Good grief, if you want to be irate about Bad Things In The World, there are plenty of issues out there, things that actually impact people's health, liberty, and lives. Too many one-off novels is not one of them.
 
Well, what about Keith DeCandido's post,
wherein he says NaNoWriMo has nothing to do with storytelling; it
teaches professionalism and deadlines, and the importance of butt in
chair?


Can storytelling be taught? I'm not sure. Yep to the other parts.




Fine, what do you think NaNoWriMo is about?


Why is it about anything than a community of people hell-bent on crash'n'burning their way through a short novel in a month? That makes more sense than it being a nefarious conspiracy.




Any last words of advice, Ms. Very Important Author?

I'd love there to be a parallel track for those of us who have other deadlines, such as revisions or finishing in-progress novels. Certainly FiMyDaNo (Finish My Damned Novel) fits the bill, and I encourage anyone in mid-draft to jump in. Revisions, at least mine, mean taking notes, cogitating, making flow charts of structure, correcting maps, ripping out chunks and shoving them around, not to mention generating piles of new prose. These all count. The thing with revisions is that sometimes a lot of thinking and a small amount of actual wordage change -- if it's the right change -- counts for a solid day's work. It's exhausting, too. So maybe the goal is, "I will think about my revisions every day this month." 




Okay, Ms. Interviewer, if you're not doing NaNoWriMo, what are your goals for this month?

World Fantasy Convention, Part the Fourth - Immortality and Fangirl Squee!

"Aften ved kysten" by Amaldus Nielsen

I've found that attending a convention alone and attending as part of a couple are quite different experiences. Although I relax and socialize, I'm mostly there as a working author. I interact with fans, network with writers and booksellers, and -- depending on the size of the convention -- meet with editors or those writers I edit. Some of this is scheduled, but other parts arise spontaneously. This makes it difficult to plan ahead -- mealtimes or panels I'm not on, for instance -- or to take into account anyone else's daily rhythms but my own. Over the years, my husband -- writer Dave Trowbridge -- and I have figured out some strategies, given the differences in our tolerance for crowds and our needs for meals, when and what kind. It is an amazing pleasure to touch base during a hectic day with someone who understands you well, someone in whom you find a haven of peace. It is also a delight to sit in the audience and bask in your spouse's participation in a panel.

For me, this was doubly true because I'd finished with my own panel and was just beginning to "wind down" from moderator-hood and also from lunch-with-editor. Dave's panel was on Immortality. I took a few notes, but make no claim for their accuracy.


Immortality isn't necessarily the same thing as agelessness;


How will we limit who becomes immortal? Do we need to control population growth? If we download consciousness, does this encourage risk-taking -- you can experience the most extreme hazards if you know you can be restored to the last "save" point. Does immortality involve reversal of aging (rejuvenation) or simply pausing as you are? If we separate mind from body, how do we get new bodies -- clones? salvaged bodies of the deceased? dispossession of the living from their bodies? What about classical reincarnation? What do each of these do to our ethics, morals?

If only some people become immortal, does this create an adversarial relationship with "normal" humans? Or will "normals" become essential and integrated with immortals? Will a class system arise, since immortality means more time in which to accumulate wealth? How would art be affected? Would it become a matter for private creation and enjoyment? Or would it become temporary, like sand paintings?

As you can see, the discussion was wide-ranging and lively. And I got to sit back and enjoy what a fascinating, articulate person I'm married to.

Speaking of enjoyment, I don't often drop names in my convention reports (unless there's a good reason). I don't like to claim credit for having met this famous writer or that one, as if that makes me a better writer or a more "important" person. I've been around long enough so I've met a whole bunch of "big names" and I think it's important to focus on the friendships and professional relationships, not the fame. However, this convention brought me a couple of moments of utter fangirl delirium. One took place at the launch party for Madeleine E. Robins's newest "Sarah Tolerance" novel (see, that's a good reason for name-mentioning -- promoting a friend's new book!); I'm standing on the patio, talking with Peter S. Beagle about writing and plumbing -- and how plumbers use tools that work the same way every time, and we writers never know how things are going to turn out -- and had a moment of total OMG-I-can't-believe-this-is-happening.

The second happened right before lunch, when I got to chat with Charlaine Harris about her work -- and how I appreciated the layers of themes and the "underneath" story, not to mention loving her librarian detective -- and she gave me a big smile and said that mean a lot, coming from another writer. Worth the price of admission, that was.

Doesn't that make you want to attend World Fantasy Convention next year? It certainly keeps me coming back for more!

World Fantasy Convention Report, Part the Third - Showtime!

Painting by Hendrik Vroom, 1628

Saturday was my "scheduled" day, meaning I had made commitments of various kinds. Of course, they all happened on the same day.

Dawn -- or as close thereto as made no functional difference -- found me trying to find the room in which the SFWA (Science Fiction/Fantasy Writers of America) Business Meeting was to be held. The convention center, where the panels and other official events were held, was closed up, and the few bleary-eyed souls there had no idea. I found out later that there indeed had been "signage" -- in 12 point font. The con suite offered me orange juice but no information, and this is a good place to say what a splendid job those folks did in supplying real food -- tasty and sustaining -- on a regular basis. Eventually, someone suggested I check out the building aptly named "Meeting House" and indeed this proved to be the right place. I arrived in time for tea, yogurt, fresh fruit, and various business stuff. If you're a SFWA member, you can read about it in the official report; if you're not, I'm not supposed to divulge the secret handshake. I hung around afterwards for g/o/s/s/i/p professional conversation. The reason the meeting had to be so early was that under the rules of World Fantasy conventions, "outside" organizations may use the facilities only "outside" convention hours, which meant we had to be done by 10.

Then came the high point of the convention for me -- lunch with my editor! It's always lovely to be treated to a nice meal and even nicer to hear that the person into whose care you have entrusted the precious child of your creative spirit is as excited about it as you are. Mutual appreciation ensued.


Next came my one panel, which I was moderating: The Lands Of Islam (to fit in with the overall theme of "Sailing the Seas of Imagination"). The panel included Howard Jones, Na'amen Tilahun and Sandra Kasturi.

Here's the description: Islamic lore is one of the world's richest stores of fantastic premises, as illustrated by Burton's 1001 Arabian Knights [sic] and its sequel. A look at the legends and lore from this fascinating cultural source, as well as other Middle and Near Eastern stories and myths. Are there specific dos and don't for writing Muslim characters with authenticity? And what are the considerations about using Muslim characters in the current political climate?

I felt, with a moderator's prerogative, that it was important to tackle the panel description and point out how it conflates Arab culture and Islam. Many of the story elements we find in the 1001 Nights are not in fact "Islamic," but are derive from pre-Islamic folk traditions that span not only the Middle East but Northern Africa through India and beyond. More than that, I wanted to point out the issues of "Orientalism" and "othering." I was disturbed that none of the panelists were Muslim, so I invited Saladin Ahmed as a "ghost panelist" and read from his essay, "Muslims in My Monitor" (The Escapist, 31 August 2010):

In Orientalism (1978), his landmark study of Western attitudes toward the Arab and Muslim worlds, the late Columbia English professor Edward Said defined "Orientalism" as Western culture's tendency to depict the Middle East through "a series of crude, essentialized caricatures." Some of these caricatures "present [the Islamic world] in such a way as to make that world vulnerable to military aggression." Others are more positive, but still treat the Middle East as an exotic land perpetually stuck in the past.

(In addition, I'd obtained a [very gorgeous] cover flat of Saladin's upcoming novel, Throne of the Crescent Moon, to wave about. There are distinct benefits from sharing an editor!)

We talked about Amin Maalouf's The Crusades Through Arab Eyes and other resources, and Judith Tarr joined us as another ghost panelist. Howard Jones, one of the panelists, furnished a great deal of historical background.

At some point, my brain stopped taking notes and I just followed along with the conversation. Once I'd anchored the panel with the points I thought were crucial, I threw it open to "Who does it right?" and "Where do we go for accurate information?" And the discussion was wonderful. I wish we'd had more time, as I often had to choose whether to interrupt a lively panelist conversation or ask the audience to wait just a little longer with their own questions and comments.

We came up with a few titles and authors -- significant that there were only a few -- but I wonder if it would be of value to start compiling such a list.

A couple of comments from the audience troubled me, although not overwhelmingly so. One was the comment that if we don't have Muslim friends, we are somehow not paying attention or are deliberately isolating ourselves. The response was that there are many areas in North America that have few or no Muslims, but the internet allows us to create a wider community. I think that's worth paying attention to.

The second question was why should we worry about getting Arab culture or Islam right when we're making up fantasy worlds. This troubled me more. No matter how "made-up" our stories are, they reflect our own experience and prejudices, and have resonances of the real world. We don't have to represent current cultures but we do need to be aware that any time we depict "people of the desert" or a monotheistic religion that in any way resembles Islam (accurately or based on the worst stereotypes), those resonances will be present in the minds of our readers.

Next installment: Immortality panel, publisher dinner, and fan-girl-go-squee highlights.
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World Fantasy Convention Report Part The Second - First Daze

Sailing the Seas of Imagination

(A Disclaimer: Part of me is kicking the other part for not having taken better notes, but the other part insists that Friday, my first day of convention participation, was so saturated in conversation, in meetings and greetings and reunions, that it wouldn't have mattered anyway.)

World Fantasy Convention differs from smaller regional cons in several important ways. For one thing, everyone pays for their membership (this is true for WorldCon as well), and this has the effect of placing readers and writers, newbies and big names alike on an equal footing. Second, participants get one panel or a reading. This nicely gets around the "he got 12 panels and I got only 2" hierarchies and resentments. The exceptions, of course, are the Guests of Honor, Toastmaster, etc. As a consequence, perhaps, panelists really focus on doing a good job. (Another difference is that publishers and sometimes authors donate piles of books, which are stuffed into bookbags for each attender.) There's no masquerade and I didn't see a single costume, Klingon, brass bikini or otherwise. This is a serious reader/writer gathering. And the conversations and informal gatherings are glorious!

When I studied the program, I kept going, "I want to hear this! And this! And this!" And made it to only a few, because whenever I tried to walk anywhere (and the venue this year was a sprawling "resort" with many mini-environments and long distances Between Things), I'd meet so many old friends, writers I desperately wanted to meet, or people who desperately wanted to meet me. I've long since given up any expectations that I will actually make it to any panel besides the one I'm on.


One such encounter -- I can't remember exactly when in the day it was, but probably the reason I didn't get to much morning scheduling, was a lovely chat with two Romance/paranormal/urban-fantasy writers Dave and I had met some years ago at ConDor. One also teaches, the other writes full time, and the full-time writer shared a very different experience of deadlines from mine. I typically take a year to a year and a half to write a book. She gets three-book contracts with three month deadlines between each one. Now, they're not as long -- 75,000 words as opposed to my usual 100,000-140,000 -- but I'm curious how she manages this. I think we have a lot to learn from one another. So we talked. And talked. Sitting around a table under a sunshade in the beautiful bright San Diego morning, with a clear blue sky overhead.

At another of these conversations, a newer writer asked, "What advice would you give yourself at the beginning of your career?" Learn to revise, don't take things too seriously, a career is a long time, don't hang on to old projects that don't work. There was a lot more, all of it as applicable to seasoned pros as to aspiring writers.

And so it went, although I did make it to the last half of the villainy panel. Kay Kenyon, who is one of my favorite writers-talking-craft people, was on it. Alas, I did not take notes. I remember some bits about the difference between a villain and an antagonist (someone whose goals or even existence poses an obstacle to the hero achieving his goal -- or should we say protagonist). And the usual, no one gets up in the morning and says, "I think I'll be evil today." Well, maybe not.

I love hearing Connie Willis speak, particularly when she's rambling on about everything and nothing, which pretty much describes her Toastmaster speech. It is so heartening to hear a writer of her caliber talk about taking years to plot a novel. I always want to rip through it and as a consequence keep stumbling over the things I haven't thought out well. It occurs to me that the plotting, if done carefully and deeply, might well take longer than the actual putting words on page or phosphor. (She's also a huge fan of the British series Primeval, and explained why in the most entertaining fashion.) She also related the moment when several young people came up to her and said, "Are you Connie Willis?" "Why yes, I am." "Hey, everyone, it's Cordelia's mom!" So the generational torch passeth.

I actually got to hear most of the panel on "The Crystal Ceiling," with Kate Elliott, Charlaine Harris, Nancy Kilpatrick, Jane Kindred, and Malinda Lo. Oh, what a treat that was! It wouldn't have mattered to me what those writers talked about, I would have sat and basked in their conversation! As it was, I'm quite interested in thoughts on how the male science fiction and fantasy community is dismissive of "women's writing" and what we can do about it. I had not realized that books written by women get reviewed (and hence bought by places like libraries that depend on those reviews) so much less frequently than those by men (the statistic I wrote down was 30%/70%, which I find horrendous). Vidaweb tracks statistics. Urban fantasy, written predominantly by women, has helped a little. Someone quoted Susan Loyal as saying that men's work can be flawed and important, but for women's work to be important, it must be perfect. Kate Elliott talked about  "men's gaze,"how men's preferences and perceptual biases, have become the norm; girls absorb these, even when they don't correspond to their own experiences. On the phenomenon of Twilight, Charlaine Harris suggested that the book is about obsession; she said she gets lots of requests to review books, but review only those she likes, not wishing to be a "blurb whore." Our notions of what a writer is like (hard-drinking, smoking, poker-playing, etc.) are male images.

In between panels, I also found out about these folks at Author! Author. "If you're traditionally published and Ingram carries your book for a standard discount, please contact us for an author purchase quote. We can offer you your own books at a deep discount and with a 50 copy order (mixed titles are fine), we can give you free freight." So the books you order (and sell or give away) count towards your royalty and sales figures.

I missed two conversations I would dearly have loved to have heard: Shawna McCarthy and Gordon Van Gelder; and Neil Gaiman and Connie Willis. Sigh.

But the evening included dinner -- a feast served up by the con suite and eaten picnic-style on tables on the lawn outside -- and more wonderful conversation. Shop talk, ideas, news of the field. Whether agents who typically represent adult sf/f can effectively market YA. Story ideas. Reinventing careers.

Friday ended with a mass autographing session. We didn't have to compete with Neil Gaiman, as they gave him a room all of his own. We took our name cards and assembled ourselves along long tables. I grabbed a seat with Dave and Sherwood (Smith) on one side, and Nina Kiriki Hoffman on the other. Nina is one of the most fun people to share an autographing table with. She brought Hallowe'en stickersto share and had multi-colored pens on hand. Such events are like gambling -- sometimes I get a flood of attention, and others, I might as well be invisible and unread, so I try not to take them seriously. I put myself next to writers I enjoy (or strike up a conversation and make a new friend), and if anyone comes by to say hello or ask for my autograph, it's quite wonderful. (This evening was wonderful.)
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World Fantasy Report, Part The First - Getting There

Friday October 27, 2011 was a travel day. It's a long drive to San Diego, even if we don't get caught in traffic passing through or around Los Angeles. "We" are husband Dave Trowbridge and me. This leads me to some thoughts on packing for conventions. You'd think that after all these years of con-going -- going on 30 -- that most of it would be rote. And it is, at least when it comes to what to throw in my suitcase. One nice outfit if there's a publisher's dinner, underwear for n days plus one, layers to cope with the vagaries of hotel air conditioning, that sort of thing. I've got a travel kit of teas, packets of instant oatmeal, sweetener, spoons and immersion heater. I could throw together toiletries and prescriptions in my sleep. Then there are things I sometimes forget, like gold stickers that say, "Autographed Copy" (left at home this time), old cover flats and bookplates for autograph freebies (also left at home), and copies of the collection of my short fiction that I published through Anthology Builder and offer for sale at cost (also left at home). Mostly, these "left at homes" are not a big deal. I'm better and more organized some times than others, and I'm pretty relaxed about it.

Then there are the moments of sheer panic.


Sometimes I think these doubts are a bizarre form of performance anxiety. I often feel I'm "on" at a convention, and I get all tangled up in "doing it right." I've said my share of unbelievably idiotic things at conventions, and have been duly tolerated and forgiven by the friends to whom I've said them. Resolving to speak only when I have something brilliant to say has not produced any noticeable improvement.

At other times, I think it's a displacement of all my insecurities. Just about every writer I know has these, all the lapses in self-confidence, the fears that our current book is sure to flop disastrously and everyone will find out what imposters we are, yadda yadda. Or maybe it's just that I'm excited and I'll be away from home, in a strange environment over which I have considerably less control.

So I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing that we arrived late and exhausted, and I simply had to read several chapters of a C. S. Forester "Horatio Hornblower" novel in order to fall asleep. At least, the shower was hot and the bed was comfortable. And now that Dave uses a CPAP, he doesn't snore.



Next up, First Daze.

Off to World Fantasy Convention...

and will be either offline or too blitzed to make sense for the next few days.



Be patient, all, and a report shall be forthcoming!