A Meerkat's Bolthole

Work progresses. With everything else that's going on [oy, don't ask], I'm only 'requiring' 500 words a day. So far I'm averaging about 900. That'll do, especially since a lot of the descriptions are "fill in once I've seen it" and "need to test this against X wine." Yes, really. Weaving some traditional High Fantasy Tropes around quirkier bits, and trying to determine exactly how much is too much detail for people getting et....

Also finding time to do some reading. For reasons that are politic, I only blog about the stuff I enjoyed.

Lynn Flewelling's Shadows Return. (Disclaimer: I'm a fangirl. Worse, I'm a fangirl with direct phone access so I can call her up and bug her about when the next book is coming out. *heee*) After finally acquiring a copy, I sat down just to read a little bit during a break. Ended up losing the entire damn day to finish it. Is it a perfect book? Nope -- you can tell it's been a while for author and readers alike, returning to this world, and there were some bits I thought weren't needed and some bits I would have liked to see more done... but it still sucked me in and reminded me why I love these characters, and feel for them and came to the end of the book thinking "more please, ma'am, now?" (it's a cliffhanger, but a natural cliffhanger, and so long as we do get the next book on schedule I won't cry foul)

John Scalzi's Old Man's War. I now know why it sat on my TBR shelf for so long -- a very good book in a style that I admire more than I enjoy. Heinlein-style space opera without the sexism but with the self-aware stylistic twitches that made me keep thinking "this isn't military, this is Hollywood with accurate technical details." because, really, that level of snark to a superior officer, no matter how brave or useful they may think you are? Will not be rewarded. Also, the main character felt like a bit of a Marty-Stu [brave, strong, smart, loyal, loving, witty, even though he wasn't as handsome as the rest of his cohort, he was still a Damn Good Looking Man with no known flaws, etc etc.] and I wanted to kick him to see if any actual flaws or hang-ups fell out. And yet, I kept reading all the way to the end. Final decision: was satisfied, but in no rush to read the next one.

Still working my way through Decantations by Frank Prial and Tasting Pleasure by Jancis Robinson. Highly recommended for anyone with an interest in the wine industry, rather than 'just' wine iteself (one of my favorite bits from Decantations: "A typical wine writer was once described as someone with a typewriter who was looking for his name in print, a free lunch, and a way to write off his wine cellar. It's a dated view. Wine writers now use computers.")


And now, off to the post awful, and maybe a walk around the neighborhood to masquerade as actual exercise...

Today I got, and read over, the contracts from Pocket for the VINEART WAR books. No matter how good your agent, and how much you trust him/her you always read through your contract. Yes, every line. It's your name that gets signed, not your agent's. Make sure you agree with it all.

The contract, for those who've never seen such a beast, covers every damn thing you could imagine and a few things you might not. The rights being transferred, natch, and the compensation thereof (advance [sums and payout details], royalties, subsidiary rights percentages, etc), but also option clause (what the publisher gets right-of-first-refusal on, and how long they are allowed to take before it's open season), what happens if author and publisher can't agree on the manuscript's "satisfactory form," who gets how much time to do what during production, legal decision-making (what state all trials would be in -- by default it's almost always NYS because most major US publishers are based there, therefore it is assumed that the courts have a better understanding of the industry standards), and a dozen other details

The only thing I found to change was where they had two "book 2" instead of a "book 3." (Oops). I also got to go over a few clauses that were new to me, some because New Publisher has different boilerplate, and some because there were issues of "Suri haz Two Publishers" to deal with. Is it terrible to admit that those clauses were both thrilling, and terrifying? Because they were.

So now I sign all the copies and send them back to the agency, where they will be passed on to the publisher for countersigning, and then -- and only then -- is this officially a Done Deal.

Needless to say, you don't wait for that to start writing. First book's due in January!

-----------------
Amusement: For those who read kradical's journal, you will have seen the "conversations we really have" post. Here's a second edition; same location, yesterday afternoon:

"I need a name."
"For what?"
"A hospital."
"Our Lady of Significant Mercy?"
*a Look*
"Our Lady of Insignificant Mercy?"
*a better Look*
"Our Lady of Moderate Mercy?"
*a snort*

(he went with "Significant Mercy," I believe. I'm keeping "Moderate Mercy" for my own future use. If you want to use it, send me a quarter.)

Work: Woke up this morning with the thought that "Mad Cats and Englishmen" really wants to expand into a novel. Possibly YA. Either I need to beat that idea into submission, or someone better perfect that "out-of-the-vat work-capable clone" thing PDQ.

Am head-down in HARD MAGIC, meanwhile, and can almost see the light at the end of the (very)rough draft. Almost. Hopefully, it's not another rock-dragon. Once the draft is done, then I can go back and do my graphite edit, finding all the plot-faults and dropped threads that are endemic (for me) to the first mad rush of storytelling. I have always envied people who can think a story out all the way through and then just write it -- me, even working from an outline it still comes in layers, one on top of the other, and then folded together with a (hopefully) subtle hand.

So long as I don't get sick again (avert!) I should make deadline without panic. Having said that, however...

Play: Riding, week Nine: Back on CD. I love my sweet Sancho, but the truth is I enjoy riding CD a lot more. He has more of a jounce to his movement, true, but he's also not quite so barrel-girthed, making it easier for me to keep my leg steady. He's also more of a challenge -- if Sancho teaches me how I should be doing something, CD teaches me how to tell my horse to do something with me.

Anyway, I was allowed back into my stirrups, and seem to have internalized last week's lesson, because when I used a little too much leg and CD went from "nice canter" to "hyperdrive!canter" rather than losing my balance I leaned back and went along for the wheee. And it was very much whee -- I think C. expected me to be freaked out but I had a blast*. And it was my decision to pull back to a trot, not his; that's important.

Still having some trouble with my cornering, and there's stuff C. hasn't even touched on that I know I need to dig into...have to trust C. that she'll know when I should start focusing on it.

No lesson next week. Already I'm in withdrawal. What I'm going to do over the summer, when C. and I seem to be alternating Time Away, I don't know....

Research: I'm not sure if this should fall under the category of work or play, so I'm breaking it out on its own. I am compiling a stack (okay, a leaning tower) of materal, but not letting myself delve into it until the rough draft of HM is done. Talk about a carrot! Politics and geography and cartography and chemical analysis and that's even before I get to the wine-making stuff! *has her geek on*




*there is a woman who takes her lesson the same time I do, and she's a pretty good beginning rider except that I get the feeling she's got this inner OMG HORSE! fear going on. So when CD decided to make like the racehorse he ain't, my main concern was not for me, but that she'd get spooked. Thankfully, she seemd a little unnerved ("is my horse gonna do that?") but okay.

Note icon.

Seriously. The past week's been a blur of me quietly flailing and freaking behind the scenes, while Best Agent Evah Jenn did her thing. Her thing done, I can now -- with great glee -- announce that the project formerly known as "The Project Eating my Brain" has et an editor's brain* as well.

Henceforth, it shall be known as The Vineart Wars 1-3, and they will be coming from Pocket Books (via the amazingly talented and most-excellent judge of books, Jen Heddle).

Because, really, a second-world fantasy based on wine-magic? Totally me, yes. :-)

Now I get to move from "hopefully someone will want this" to "OMG they want it when?" Eeeep.


I think I'm still slightly in (delighted) shock. Wheeeee!

(and no, I haven't forgotten about/lost any love for the Cosa Nostradamus books. Like any parent with more than one child, they're ALL my favorite. Just more on some days than others...)

EtA: and yes, fakefrenchie, this means what you think it means. Dust off that guest room! ;-)


*two editors, actually, hence the flailing and freaking

Few things are more pitiful than a Boomer denied ginger-and-teryaki tilapia fillets. He even tried to make an end-run through the green salad. Silly kitty. Pandora, disdaining people food, has spent the time trying to claim ownership of the laptop, as usual. I'm pretty sure she thinks of it as a strange but useful bed-warmer rather than as a means to take over the e-world, but I'm not letting her get any ideas. Mine, fur-face. Go back to sleeping on the pillow.

Today was spent creating religious myths for TPEMB. It may never appear in the story proper, but the structural origin myth informs the actions of several characters, so it had to be mapped out -- and then obscured and attacked over the generations.

I'm quite pleased with it, actually. L. Ron had the right of it -- invented religions are far more enjoyable than inherited ones. ;-)

Meanwhile, a few beta-readers have been heard from. First four chapters don't suck, apparently.

Most of the winter so far we've gotten "Ooh noes! teh terribuhl snows is coming!" from the weather critters, and woken up to a measly inch or three on the ground and yawns all around. Last night, the news critters started saying "hrm, looks like we're going to get a nor'easter. Might be up to a foot of snow in your area. And today in politics..." Went to the supermarket this morning to pick up some oj, and the lines were normal, the crowd was actually a little light, and no sense at all of panic or even "do we have bread and milk?" worry.

Yep. The swamp Yankees are mellow. All the signs point to a major nor'easter hitting Connecticut tonight. (for those of you who aren't from eastern US coastline, a nor'easter is [very roughly] when the storm comes in off the ocean [south and east of us], slams into cold air held by the mountains to the north and west, and hammers us with high winds, sideways precipitation, and dangerous tide surges. Think a lake effect storm on steroids. It doesn't always involve snow -- ice storms are the really scary ones, actually). Stay warm, dry, and inside, if you're within the NYC-Boston coastal corridor!

Meanwhile, I had to pull an entire half-chapter from TPEMB yesterday. Well-written, with some nice character development and world-building detail...and it pushed the story in a direction I wasn't happy with. Grrr. (for those of you who knit, this is akin to having to unravel an entire row because you realize you dropped a stitch somewhere). Time to pause and do some research to make sure I get a detail right before plowing on. 20,000 words to-date, which is a little light on where I wanted to be but still respectable, about 1200 words a day. Once I start getting feedback from the beta-readers [that was a hint, guys], we'll know how well it's working...

And speaking of which -- back I go.

(hey, has anyone here ever done any stone-working or brick-laying?)


ETA: we've been downgraded to "6-8 inches of total snow accumulation." Still respectable. Pity New Haven's so damn flat, otherwise I'd haul the sled out...

Have I mentioned recently that I am having far too much fun with this project? Two plot twists occured to me in the course of one scene, and oh dear, my characters are going to be most upset with me by the end...

Pity. I quite liked them.

Pity the characters the author likes. We play rough with our favorites.

Now, time for second breakfast. And then I have to go out and acquire more caffeine.

Oh shit. I have to create a map.


I guess I are a fantasy writer now for sure.



EtA: I lurrrve research. I especially lurrrve research I can mess with.

It is 10 degrees outside. Jack Frost has been to visit, lacing my windows with wings of glittering ice. The furnace is kicking out warm air, and the felines are playful. I am filled with excellent food, good wine, and damn good company after dinner with marinarusalka. I wrote 2000+ words on TPEMB, and David Letterman is back, complete with a kick line of dancing girls bearing WGA strike signs.

(and OMG what IS that on Letterman's face?)

"Without writers and caffeine, I would have no personality whatsoever."


ETA: OMG! They are so not pulling punches, are they? *chortles* Not great joke-writing, but pointy like Mr. Pointy, ayuh.

ETA2: The top ten list was a work of genius, especially #1. How long before it's on YouTu--betcha it already is.

Support the WGA strike -- watch Letterman!

We all want to be brilliant right off the bat. The truth is, very few of us are. Madame Agent got back to me last night with the bit of TPEMB with some pointy comments [not bad ones, just pointy and not-brilliant-yet]. I snarled, poked back. Went away and sulked. Poked at it some with the comment-stick. Decided to come at it from another angle. Wrote 2,000 words of a new scene in an hour. Went to bed, woke up and thought the words were still okay. Not brilliant yet, but maybe getting there.

Absent an AWOL muse [I suspect eggnog abuse], a stick-pokey agent is a wonderful thing to have.

Fortunately, I am writing TPEMB for my own satisfaction right now, so I can take the time to get it right. Come February, when I start Bonnie #1 [currently churning in the back with the lizard brain], my writing-life will be a bit more frantic.

I can write two or more things at once. In fact, I prefer to multi-task, because that's how my brain is set up. It needs the constant feedback to keep going, and gets very bored when all the input is of the same type [learning this was very important to my survival, yes]. I just wish I could jigger the schedule so that they're at staggered production schedules. This year, writing two contemporaries [even if one was fantasy and one was paranormal romance and they ARE different critters] at the same time pretty much made my brain into flat gray paste.

And, having said that, I'm probably going to get wonked with some hot short story idea now, and have it competing for space with TPEMB, and make myself nuts [more nuts. Nutsier] over my 'vacation.' Wheee.

And in the meanwhile, Boomer is fascinated with the lump under the covers that happens to be Pandora. The fact that the lump growls every time he pats at it disuades him not at all. I think I may have to chase a cat around the apartment, soon...