Or to be a tad less flamboyant: Bad Guy--BG, hurts Main Character--MC, but how?
Okay, lets take it from the top:
1. stabbed with what:
knife, pencil, sword, ice pick, toasting fork, etc.
A thin blade--like a stiletto or rapier will leave a smaller wound though deep, a scimitar leaves a wide one, broken glass from a bottle can slice and dice like a scalpel.
Which era is the MC in, what type of weapon is the BG likely to use?
2. MC stabbed where:
A: clean area--chest with heart, lungs, liver
B: dirty area--stomach, intestines, bladder, kidneys--any perforations here and waste matter gets out for a secondary infection
C: head--face, eyes, cheeks, neck
D: limbs--clipping the femoral artery inside the thigh--as thick as your thumb, and you'll bleed out in 2-3 minutes.
How long does the fight last? Quick means a fast chest stab may hit a rib and deflect worse injury. Prolonged means the BG can strike multiple times and do serious damage.
How proficient is the BG? Is s/he a pro? Drunk? On drugs? In a rage?
What about the MC? Knows self-defense? Carries a weapon too? Knows of the impending attack? Is clueless?
How does the fight play out? Both standing, one stands and one sits, BG dives from a roof onto MC below, BG cuts from under the basement stairs across MC's Achilles' tendon?
What's the MC wearing--depends on personal taste, weather, social class, job, etc. A heavy coat can take longer to stab through. Add an inner pocket with something to deflect or slow a blade and your MC is lucky.
Size and shape of BG to MC matters as well: a small person attacking a larger one would have less force.
Unconsciousness can come from the impact of a fall after an assault, or a choke hold from behind while being stabbed. If the MC goes unconscious from a bleedout, survival isn't assured.
If the victim is not quite human--werebeast, alien, etc, the organs could regenerate faster or even be missing, in different places, etc.
Yes, miracles do happen, but keep it real or the reader will wish that all the characters kick off ASAP and quit wasting time.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Saturday, November 24, 2007
The Power of Words Saturday, Nov. 24, 2007
I'm not talking abracadabra, but effective communication.
Free speech has been replaced by responsible speech: You don't yell 'FIRE' in a crowded place, nor should you call out a simple greeting to your friend John in the airport, 'HI JACK!'
Ripped from the headlines, as many crime/detective etc. shows and books claim, many unthinking (to be charitable) and deliberately cruel examples show up all the time.
How many times do perpetrators say to the victims or witnesses, 'Tell anyone and I'll kill them, then I'll come after you.' Messages of retribution are left in the guise of body parts or dead pets.
Talk shows are notorious for pitting neighbor vs. neighbor, or exploiting internecine family agnst for ratings. Murders have occurred, notably after the Jenny Jones show of a few years ago in which a man was brought on as the object of affection by a secret admirer--another man--to his shock. The reaction some time later came as a gunshot from the one loved to the one he had no interest in whatsoever. Recently, another revelation on a makeover show had the shamed and humiliated recipient killing herself.
A new Megan's law is trying to stop cyber-bullying but it doesn't work retroactively. In 2006, a 13 year old girl named Megan was on medication for manic-depression. She had a falling out with a girlfriend down the street whom she'd known for years. The mother of the friend went on line acting as a teen boy 'Josh', saying nice things for weeks then slamming Megan saying 'the world would be better off if she was dead.' Less than an hour after that text message, Megan had indeed killed herself. The world is not better off.
Is this woman who pretended to be Josh guilty of murder? Or merely an accessory? Deliberately causing emotional damage knowing the unstable nature of the recipient--is this a crime or an 'unfortunate series of events'. The communication was effective. The message was clear.
Words do indeed have power.
Free speech has been replaced by responsible speech: You don't yell 'FIRE' in a crowded place, nor should you call out a simple greeting to your friend John in the airport, 'HI JACK!'
Ripped from the headlines, as many crime/detective etc. shows and books claim, many unthinking (to be charitable) and deliberately cruel examples show up all the time.
How many times do perpetrators say to the victims or witnesses, 'Tell anyone and I'll kill them, then I'll come after you.' Messages of retribution are left in the guise of body parts or dead pets.
Talk shows are notorious for pitting neighbor vs. neighbor, or exploiting internecine family agnst for ratings. Murders have occurred, notably after the Jenny Jones show of a few years ago in which a man was brought on as the object of affection by a secret admirer--another man--to his shock. The reaction some time later came as a gunshot from the one loved to the one he had no interest in whatsoever. Recently, another revelation on a makeover show had the shamed and humiliated recipient killing herself.
A new Megan's law is trying to stop cyber-bullying but it doesn't work retroactively. In 2006, a 13 year old girl named Megan was on medication for manic-depression. She had a falling out with a girlfriend down the street whom she'd known for years. The mother of the friend went on line acting as a teen boy 'Josh', saying nice things for weeks then slamming Megan saying 'the world would be better off if she was dead.' Less than an hour after that text message, Megan had indeed killed herself. The world is not better off.
Is this woman who pretended to be Josh guilty of murder? Or merely an accessory? Deliberately causing emotional damage knowing the unstable nature of the recipient--is this a crime or an 'unfortunate series of events'. The communication was effective. The message was clear.
Words do indeed have power.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Critiques and Rejections August 25, 2007
Writers, like everyone else, need approval and pats, and we also need good critics--ones who will point out the flaws as well as the diamonds.
Writing scares me because I need to do it, and if I'm not doing it, I'm thinking of doing it. Isn't that the definition of obsession or addiction? Then I'm in good company with millions of others.
Writing scares others because it is isolating, it's retreating into your world, whether the sky is green and the sand red, or you're doing a technical manual on how to use Vista (which I abhor but that's a rant for another site).
I've been with Critters, a critiquing group for f/h/sf for nearly a decade. I cringe whenever I put something up, then I see the dreck--that's old-fashioned Yiddish for crap/refuse/garbage (as an American living in Israel I do understand that)--from others. I see seeds of roses in them that a great story can be built around. I have seeds too.
We're all trying to get better at our craft, we flinch when someone reads and hates it, or worse when they don't want to read it at all. I know I've done crap but it's also nourishing seeds for another time.
When a fellow writer or editor rejects us, who are they really rejecting? Muses willing, it's the writing that needs the improvement. If they reject you, the writing isn't and has never been the issue, no matter what the other person says. Losing a friendship over it is hard, they lash out at your literary children and we as the penning parents defend our offspring. That's on the top, the underlying issue is different. Often it's jealousy that they like your writing better, or they think they're doing 'serious' writing and you with the fantasy are just copying a genre. What someone says negatively needs a hardlook: do I mix tenses, lack continuity, ramble on? If so, I need to go in and fix it. If the person doesn't like me, f--k 'em.
All writing is valid, no matter if it's the daily journal no one sees or the blog thousands read. We're reaching out to communicate, to entertain, to inform, to soothe, to touch, and hope the reader gets our message.
The writer must be his/her first and best audience. Do it for love and hope someone else loves it enough to pay for it. Find a support person or 3 who listen and feedback, and you support them in their love of photography or gardening or whatever.
Call them and say: 'send me good vibes, I'm going to submerge myself in my book for 2 hours and write'. Call them back after and thank them. Letting someone know not only gives you the push, it gives you a place to start from and a place to end without guilt.
We write for many reasons, and we can not write for as many more.
When I need a push and or validation, I turn to writers I trust and read Natalie Goldberg's books: Writing Down the Bones, Wild Mind, Thunder and Lightning, Long Quiet Highway. I read Julia Cameron's Walking in This World, Vein of Gold, The Right to Write.
I may still be writing dreck, but I am writing. Fertilizer is never wasted.
Writing scares me because I need to do it, and if I'm not doing it, I'm thinking of doing it. Isn't that the definition of obsession or addiction? Then I'm in good company with millions of others.
Writing scares others because it is isolating, it's retreating into your world, whether the sky is green and the sand red, or you're doing a technical manual on how to use Vista (which I abhor but that's a rant for another site).
I've been with Critters, a critiquing group for f/h/sf for nearly a decade. I cringe whenever I put something up, then I see the dreck--that's old-fashioned Yiddish for crap/refuse/garbage (as an American living in Israel I do understand that)--from others. I see seeds of roses in them that a great story can be built around. I have seeds too.
We're all trying to get better at our craft, we flinch when someone reads and hates it, or worse when they don't want to read it at all. I know I've done crap but it's also nourishing seeds for another time.
When a fellow writer or editor rejects us, who are they really rejecting? Muses willing, it's the writing that needs the improvement. If they reject you, the writing isn't and has never been the issue, no matter what the other person says. Losing a friendship over it is hard, they lash out at your literary children and we as the penning parents defend our offspring. That's on the top, the underlying issue is different. Often it's jealousy that they like your writing better, or they think they're doing 'serious' writing and you with the fantasy are just copying a genre. What someone says negatively needs a hardlook: do I mix tenses, lack continuity, ramble on? If so, I need to go in and fix it. If the person doesn't like me, f--k 'em.
All writing is valid, no matter if it's the daily journal no one sees or the blog thousands read. We're reaching out to communicate, to entertain, to inform, to soothe, to touch, and hope the reader gets our message.
The writer must be his/her first and best audience. Do it for love and hope someone else loves it enough to pay for it. Find a support person or 3 who listen and feedback, and you support them in their love of photography or gardening or whatever.
Call them and say: 'send me good vibes, I'm going to submerge myself in my book for 2 hours and write'. Call them back after and thank them. Letting someone know not only gives you the push, it gives you a place to start from and a place to end without guilt.
We write for many reasons, and we can not write for as many more.
When I need a push and or validation, I turn to writers I trust and read Natalie Goldberg's books: Writing Down the Bones, Wild Mind, Thunder and Lightning, Long Quiet Highway. I read Julia Cameron's Walking in This World, Vein of Gold, The Right to Write.
I may still be writing dreck, but I am writing. Fertilizer is never wasted.
The Naming of Names May 27, 2007
Ikarias Book 4 official name: 'Labyrinth's Edge', up to 3 chapters 5K+ word count.
How do names for books get chosen? What makes a good name?
My books are a series: 'Ikarias, Tales from the Worlds of the Half-Dragon'. That describes a name, that there's several things going on, that it encompasses more than one geographical area, and what my main character is.
For series name, it's longish, but the most important character is first so asking for the 'latest Ikarias novel' (wishing really hard that happens soon! lol) is easy. The name may be difficult to pronounce. Some people will think of Icarus, the flyboy, Daedelus' rash son, but that's one story, roughly 2000 years old so the competition isn't new.
What about secondary titles? Since the first is long, keeping the rest to two words is important. The shorter the name the easier it is for people to remember, also, puns, slang, assonance (vowel repetition), and alliteration (consonant repetition) help people to recall. Think 'Centaur Isle'-pun, 'How Stella Got her Groove Back' -slang, 'Angela's Ashes'-assonance, 'Pride and Prejudice'-alliteration.
In Ikarias Book 1: 'Sorceress' Game' describes what is going on: A 15 going on 5000 year old sorceress plays with the lives of Ikarias and her friends.
Ikarias Book 2: 'Soul Teind' focuses on what the debt of a soul is for, who has it, why the young woman Cephira who pays it is threatened, where it is paid, to whom, and how she copes with the bargain made in exchange for her life and that of her sisters. Ikarias and friends come to the rescue.
Ikarias Book 3: 'Balanced Scales' is Ikarias' search to bring her two halves into synch. She tries to find justice for who/what she is when drastic changes take over. Balanced also refers to her frame of mind, and of course scales are what dragons and Half-Dragons have. Scales are also associated with justice.
Coming up to 'Labyrinth's Edge', Ikarias Book 4. The edge does not mean the end, or the beginning, it's a place where one must leave in order to escape.
This brings us back to Daedalus who was the architect of the greatest and most deadly labyrinth. The name comes from the duo-headed axe with curves edges, labrys, Ikarias' favorite weapon. Pasiphae, the wife of Minos, the king of Crete was cursed to fall in love with a bull. This bull had been a gift from the sea god, Poseidon, to Minos. Minos was to sacrifice the bull to Poseidon, but he didn't. The bull was huge, it was without blemish. Minos didn't want to slay and burn the magnificent animal. You do not disobey a god. In revenge upon Minos, of course the god hit on his wife--gods prefer the anguish of suffering by a family member of the prime offender rather than smack the one who did the wrong. Gods are like that.
Pasiphae fell madly in love with the bull. This was before anyone knew of DNA so the laws of genetic matching didn't exist. He impregnated her, no one knows whether the bull brought her flowers and dinner first, if he did bring a bouquet he probably ate it.
Minos himself was the son of the god Zeus who in bull-shape seduced and boffed Europa. Hera found out and turned Europa into a cow pestered by flies. (Again the god doesn't punish the instigator. Zeus was notorious for skirt-chasing. Poor Hera had to be satisfied with making the damsels' lives a living hell. She wasn't too kind to her step-children either, as if children are cursed for the sins of their parents.) Europa swam across the sea landing far from Hera's wrath and the name of the place stuck. She gave birth there though I'm not sure in which form.
When Pasiphae gave birth, her son was bull from the head or waist up. Unable or unwilling to kill this monster, and certainly in no mood to coddle it, King Minos had the world's leading architect design a place where the bull-boy grew up to be a bull-man, the Minotaur, away from any contact. Meat or criminals were thrown in the labyrinth to feed him, until the war with Athens.
Androgeus was Minos' son, all human, a sterling fellow who visited Athens and King Aegeus. Androgeus and other young men went hunting for a dangerous bull. (Any one see a theme developing here? ) The bull killed him. Mad with grief, Minos invaded Athens and agreed to spare the city only if seven maidens and seven youths came to him every nine years. They were put into the labyrinth where the minotaur found them and ate them.
Theseus, visiting Athens, offered to take the place of one youth and kill the bull beast that was eating the best of the Athenian population. Aegeus made him promise when he sailed back, if the sails were white--victory that the minotaur was dead, or black for failure, as they were on the sorrowful voyage out.
Ariadne was the daughter of Minos and Pasiphae. Seeing Theseus, she fell in love and gave him a string to maneuver through the labyrinth to safety. He came upon the sleeping minotaur and beat him to death with his fists.
Scratching head--if this bull beast was so fearsome how could a mere man kill it with his bare hands? That's where stretching the fictional tale gets thin enough to read through.
Taking Ariadne and the thirteen other teens, Theseus sailed for home. Ariadne was abandoned on the isle of Naxos where the god Dionysus ruled. He's not only the god of wine but the god of beasts. Perhaps Ariadne felt guilty at having been the instrument of her half-brother's death. Exuberant with escape and freedom, Theseus forgot to change the black sails to white. Seeing the dark sails, in grief, Aegeus threw himself from the cliffs into the sea now bearing his name, the Aegean.
Like fate, labyrinths have many edges. The edges are often the most dangerous place to be.
How do names for books get chosen? What makes a good name?
My books are a series: 'Ikarias, Tales from the Worlds of the Half-Dragon'. That describes a name, that there's several things going on, that it encompasses more than one geographical area, and what my main character is.
For series name, it's longish, but the most important character is first so asking for the 'latest Ikarias novel' (wishing really hard that happens soon! lol) is easy. The name may be difficult to pronounce. Some people will think of Icarus, the flyboy, Daedelus' rash son, but that's one story, roughly 2000 years old so the competition isn't new.
What about secondary titles? Since the first is long, keeping the rest to two words is important. The shorter the name the easier it is for people to remember, also, puns, slang, assonance (vowel repetition), and alliteration (consonant repetition) help people to recall. Think 'Centaur Isle'-pun, 'How Stella Got her Groove Back' -slang, 'Angela's Ashes'-assonance, 'Pride and Prejudice'-alliteration.
In Ikarias Book 1: 'Sorceress' Game' describes what is going on: A 15 going on 5000 year old sorceress plays with the lives of Ikarias and her friends.
Ikarias Book 2: 'Soul Teind' focuses on what the debt of a soul is for, who has it, why the young woman Cephira who pays it is threatened, where it is paid, to whom, and how she copes with the bargain made in exchange for her life and that of her sisters. Ikarias and friends come to the rescue.
Ikarias Book 3: 'Balanced Scales' is Ikarias' search to bring her two halves into synch. She tries to find justice for who/what she is when drastic changes take over. Balanced also refers to her frame of mind, and of course scales are what dragons and Half-Dragons have. Scales are also associated with justice.
Coming up to 'Labyrinth's Edge', Ikarias Book 4. The edge does not mean the end, or the beginning, it's a place where one must leave in order to escape.
This brings us back to Daedalus who was the architect of the greatest and most deadly labyrinth. The name comes from the duo-headed axe with curves edges, labrys, Ikarias' favorite weapon. Pasiphae, the wife of Minos, the king of Crete was cursed to fall in love with a bull. This bull had been a gift from the sea god, Poseidon, to Minos. Minos was to sacrifice the bull to Poseidon, but he didn't. The bull was huge, it was without blemish. Minos didn't want to slay and burn the magnificent animal. You do not disobey a god. In revenge upon Minos, of course the god hit on his wife--gods prefer the anguish of suffering by a family member of the prime offender rather than smack the one who did the wrong. Gods are like that.
Pasiphae fell madly in love with the bull. This was before anyone knew of DNA so the laws of genetic matching didn't exist. He impregnated her, no one knows whether the bull brought her flowers and dinner first, if he did bring a bouquet he probably ate it.
Minos himself was the son of the god Zeus who in bull-shape seduced and boffed Europa. Hera found out and turned Europa into a cow pestered by flies. (Again the god doesn't punish the instigator. Zeus was notorious for skirt-chasing. Poor Hera had to be satisfied with making the damsels' lives a living hell. She wasn't too kind to her step-children either, as if children are cursed for the sins of their parents.) Europa swam across the sea landing far from Hera's wrath and the name of the place stuck. She gave birth there though I'm not sure in which form.
When Pasiphae gave birth, her son was bull from the head or waist up. Unable or unwilling to kill this monster, and certainly in no mood to coddle it, King Minos had the world's leading architect design a place where the bull-boy grew up to be a bull-man, the Minotaur, away from any contact. Meat or criminals were thrown in the labyrinth to feed him, until the war with Athens.
Androgeus was Minos' son, all human, a sterling fellow who visited Athens and King Aegeus. Androgeus and other young men went hunting for a dangerous bull. (Any one see a theme developing here? ) The bull killed him. Mad with grief, Minos invaded Athens and agreed to spare the city only if seven maidens and seven youths came to him every nine years. They were put into the labyrinth where the minotaur found them and ate them.
Theseus, visiting Athens, offered to take the place of one youth and kill the bull beast that was eating the best of the Athenian population. Aegeus made him promise when he sailed back, if the sails were white--victory that the minotaur was dead, or black for failure, as they were on the sorrowful voyage out.
Ariadne was the daughter of Minos and Pasiphae. Seeing Theseus, she fell in love and gave him a string to maneuver through the labyrinth to safety. He came upon the sleeping minotaur and beat him to death with his fists.
Scratching head--if this bull beast was so fearsome how could a mere man kill it with his bare hands? That's where stretching the fictional tale gets thin enough to read through.
Taking Ariadne and the thirteen other teens, Theseus sailed for home. Ariadne was abandoned on the isle of Naxos where the god Dionysus ruled. He's not only the god of wine but the god of beasts. Perhaps Ariadne felt guilty at having been the instrument of her half-brother's death. Exuberant with escape and freedom, Theseus forgot to change the black sails to white. Seeing the dark sails, in grief, Aegeus threw himself from the cliffs into the sea now bearing his name, the Aegean.
Like fate, labyrinths have many edges. The edges are often the most dangerous place to be.
Publish or Perish--Literary Children May 18, 2007
That's a well-known chestnut for the world of academia: you either make a place with the two-dimensional effort of writing an article/argument/thesis et. al. on paper or you are invisible to the rest of the world.
I've had a short tale accepted for the Sept '08 issue of Aoife's Kiss, one of several hard copy/ezines part of http://samsdotpublishing.com/aoife/main.htm. My 6th publishing credit.
'Sin Twister' came as a gift from the Muse in complete opposite of what I had planned. Which is why it's better. It's not the tale of revenge and hate I'd planned--that's too easy, but a tale of redemption by increments. I wrote it in 3 days, it's short and one of the best things I've ever done.
I still need to get Ikarias 1, to a publisher. 25 querys to lit agents have gone over 2 months with maybe 12 'no thanks' and as many non-answers. In this case no news means no interest. Agents have far too many queries to respond with even a form letter. I do think it's rude but I also understand time constraints.
http://agentinthemiddle.blogspot.com/ is by an agent describing her full day/life and the crap she endures because writers don't follow simple rules.
I've 3500 words started on book 4 of Ikarias, either titled 'Keramin Heights' or 'Demons' Dreams'. Titles are tricky. Make them out of whole cloth with no reference: those who've read the previous books will know of Keramin Heights but those who don't will think of heights as mountains and maybe Keramin as a name. This will be a darker book. 'Demons' Dreams' can cover a lot of ground with alliteration, the darkness of several characters, the darkness discussions and delved into depravity, the demonic activities, etc.
Back to the title: if publishers see credits they know someone wants/wanted you, making you more attractive to them. The more credits, the more you're visible with your efforts, showing off your literary children like a proud parent should. If you don't act and feel like they're worth it, no one else will give a shite, as the British say.
You have to love them, and in return the world may just want more.
Publishing credits to date:
*'Sin Twister' to be in the ezine: Aoife's Kiss, Fall '08 as P. Lord
*'Jura the Wanderer' --Tavern Tales Anthology by ComStar Media, Nov. '05 as H. Winterthorne
*'Suits' -- ezine: ATSOISE, Oct. '04 as H. Winterthorne
*'Blind Boys of Bogen's Run' -- ezine: Nocturnal Ooze, Oct. '04 as P. Lord
*'Strains of Wagner' --ezine: Twilight Times, May '03 as P. Lord
*'I'm The Last One' -- literary magazine: Gotta Write Network, Fall '92 as P. Lord
I've had a short tale accepted for the Sept '08 issue of Aoife's Kiss, one of several hard copy/ezines part of http://samsdotpublishing.com/aoife/main.htm. My 6th publishing credit.
'Sin Twister' came as a gift from the Muse in complete opposite of what I had planned. Which is why it's better. It's not the tale of revenge and hate I'd planned--that's too easy, but a tale of redemption by increments. I wrote it in 3 days, it's short and one of the best things I've ever done.
I still need to get Ikarias 1, to a publisher. 25 querys to lit agents have gone over 2 months with maybe 12 'no thanks' and as many non-answers. In this case no news means no interest. Agents have far too many queries to respond with even a form letter. I do think it's rude but I also understand time constraints.
http://agentinthemiddle.blogspot.com/ is by an agent describing her full day/life and the crap she endures because writers don't follow simple rules.
I've 3500 words started on book 4 of Ikarias, either titled 'Keramin Heights' or 'Demons' Dreams'. Titles are tricky. Make them out of whole cloth with no reference: those who've read the previous books will know of Keramin Heights but those who don't will think of heights as mountains and maybe Keramin as a name. This will be a darker book. 'Demons' Dreams' can cover a lot of ground with alliteration, the darkness of several characters, the darkness discussions and delved into depravity, the demonic activities, etc.
Back to the title: if publishers see credits they know someone wants/wanted you, making you more attractive to them. The more credits, the more you're visible with your efforts, showing off your literary children like a proud parent should. If you don't act and feel like they're worth it, no one else will give a shite, as the British say.
You have to love them, and in return the world may just want more.
Publishing credits to date:
*'Sin Twister' to be in the ezine: Aoife's Kiss, Fall '08 as P. Lord
*'Jura the Wanderer' --Tavern Tales Anthology by ComStar Media, Nov. '05 as H. Winterthorne
*'Suits' -- ezine: ATSOISE, Oct. '04 as H. Winterthorne
*'Blind Boys of Bogen's Run' -- ezine: Nocturnal Ooze, Oct. '04 as P. Lord
*'Strains of Wagner' --ezine: Twilight Times, May '03 as P. Lord
*'I'm The Last One' -- literary magazine: Gotta Write Network, Fall '92 as P. Lord
Bad Publishers March 25, 2007
ComStar Media is out of my life, except for the first Jura story stuck in Tavern Tales anthology. (The whole is full of typos per a friend with a discerning eye for copy-editing but apparently they don't have one at CSM either).
Eighteen months was the contract time for 'Ikarias, Tales from the Worlds of the Half-Dragon, Book 1: The Sorceress' Game'. Despite reassurances of interest that's all I received, reassurances. There were no edits, nothing. I wrote emails which took weeks to get replies, tel. calls were picked up by an anonymous machine and not returned. Took CSM 9 months to do a company update. The October '06 sales report came out as a notice 5 months later in their yahoo site that there hadn't been enough sales on the Tavern Tales anthology. The contract for a second anthology never materialized though I'd sent my signed copy back 3 months ago. I pointed out typos on their website--ALWAYS A BAD SIGN WHEN THERE ARE TYPOS ON A PUBLISHING WEB SITE! Run do not walk in the opposite direction if you see that.
18 months is industry standard. Yes, there were problems with distributors, the owner's health, etc, yes it's a family-owned company, small and new, and there's the rub.
New means they're beginners.
Small means they pay after the book gets published--no advance.
New means they have a shoestring budget.
Small means if things don't get off the ground they just don't get anywhere.
If they also do games, and CSM does, then literary efforts will come second to pandering to the gamers.
The publisher-editor is also a writer, I have no problem with that. The fact that the publishing business had to come second or third after she needed to get a 'real' job to support the publishing business speaks volumes. I still needed to wait until the contract time was legally up to get out--that incident was a few months into the contract. I kept hoping, kept asking 'Are you interested?' 'What about the story sent for the sci-fi anthology?' 'How about an artist?' 'Should I edit now and send you the revised shorter version to fit the budget?' I was willing to do anything I could at my end but my end wasn't the issue.
On the good side, the time wasn't wasted. I have become a better writer. I have three complete novels in a series to offer someone who is reliable--a stronger case to present to prospective agents/publishers. It's been a learning experience. It's been frustrating, disappointing, and pissed me off as well.
Eighteen months was the contract time for 'Ikarias, Tales from the Worlds of the Half-Dragon, Book 1: The Sorceress' Game'. Despite reassurances of interest that's all I received, reassurances. There were no edits, nothing. I wrote emails which took weeks to get replies, tel. calls were picked up by an anonymous machine and not returned. Took CSM 9 months to do a company update. The October '06 sales report came out as a notice 5 months later in their yahoo site that there hadn't been enough sales on the Tavern Tales anthology. The contract for a second anthology never materialized though I'd sent my signed copy back 3 months ago. I pointed out typos on their website--ALWAYS A BAD SIGN WHEN THERE ARE TYPOS ON A PUBLISHING WEB SITE! Run do not walk in the opposite direction if you see that.
18 months is industry standard. Yes, there were problems with distributors, the owner's health, etc, yes it's a family-owned company, small and new, and there's the rub.
New means they're beginners.
Small means they pay after the book gets published--no advance.
New means they have a shoestring budget.
Small means if things don't get off the ground they just don't get anywhere.
If they also do games, and CSM does, then literary efforts will come second to pandering to the gamers.
The publisher-editor is also a writer, I have no problem with that. The fact that the publishing business had to come second or third after she needed to get a 'real' job to support the publishing business speaks volumes. I still needed to wait until the contract time was legally up to get out--that incident was a few months into the contract. I kept hoping, kept asking 'Are you interested?' 'What about the story sent for the sci-fi anthology?' 'How about an artist?' 'Should I edit now and send you the revised shorter version to fit the budget?' I was willing to do anything I could at my end but my end wasn't the issue.
On the good side, the time wasn't wasted. I have become a better writer. I have three complete novels in a series to offer someone who is reliable--a stronger case to present to prospective agents/publishers. It's been a learning experience. It's been frustrating, disappointing, and pissed me off as well.
Lies, Lies, Tell Me Sweet Little Lies December 25, 2006
According to the clock here in Israel, it's past Christmas by a few minutes, a week to New Years, several days past Yule--the real end of the year if you're going to be accurate. Shortest day, longest night, that sort of end of the year...
Who gets to decide which is true?
What is truth? You can lie to your characters, you can have your characters lie to themselves and to each other factually, provocatively, or without meaning too, just like in life.
What makes the truth? Is it perception or is it something more emotional, more visceral?
There was an actual geographical event causing the collapse of Sodom aka (Bab edh-Dhra) and Gomorrah. Then someone says a deity did the destruction, and that's backed up by some writing for this event that occurred 4000 years ago to an establishment with maybe 1000 people, a city by those times' standards.
The tectonic plates don't lie, well, they do, on top of each other like dinnerware and if the shelf support drops on one side you'll need to buy a new set and eat off of paper plates till then. The Dead Sea area, within a donkey's ride of Sodom, had a 160+ feet change in elevation on that day.
To primitive peoples that's a major catastrophe, they may have had minor temblors, then the big one hit. Lot and company left before that but Mrs Lot looked back and was turned to a pillar of salt.
Aside from the fact that people have salt in them but don't become pillars is that line, 'literary license'? Third parties point to Mrs Lot's assumed guilty pleasures and regrets in leaving them. Isn't that blaming the victim?
Happens all the time. No one blames Lot for being a whoremonger and incipient child-abuser for offering his two virgin daughters to two men visiting him whom he knew were angels.
That poses the questions, A: Why would angels have need of sex? B: Would they have sex with children? If so, they're no angels. C: If Lot offered the children--is it a custom of the place he was following? D: If it was custom then he is as guilty as the rest of the Sodomites for their licentiousness. E: If it wasn't a custom then he is more guilty of the sacrifice of his precious daughters to rape by strangers. F: It's a lie, falsehood, fiction, and artistic license to explain away the 'difference' between 'good' Lot and 'evil' Sodom dwellers who wanted to see these men and speak to them. New guys in town can be trouble, they can be scouts for an invading army, have signs of illness that could infect everyone else, be provocateurs sowing dissent and causing trouble among people. It's not an unlikely scenario.
Does this make sense? No, no one said it had to, BUT, it does make for interesting reading doesn't it? And discussions on theology, ethics, boundaries 'good' parents should follow, etc.
What if Lot was making money off his girls? Whores get better pay than shepherds. What if the girls were promiscuous teenagers and, asked "Hey Dad, let's f--k the new guys to welcome them into the town?" Or it was something Lot did all the time and they were used to being abused? What if they were in love with local boys and had to 'service' Dad's old buddies for a welcome? What if Mrs Lot had to do the same?
Why did she look back? She'd found a way out, she was going to leave with her daughters and start a new life away from Daddy Dearest when he said 'pack it in we're out of here'--and her chance is gone. She's doomed to watch the endless parade of male visitors in another location say 'hello' up close and personal with her underage daughters and there is no escape but death.
The old term for salt is also used for vapor. Lot's wife wasn't turned to sodium chloride, she went pouf by the actions of an angry planet. Lot and his daughters took refuge in a cave and, we're told, the girls, 'thinking it was the end of the world lay with their father to regenerate the world'. Or per usual with child abuse cases in which Dad gives his daughters' bodies to his buddies, the daughters have sexual relations with their dad, again, still.
What's true? What's real? What's fact? What makes good reading?
Who gets to decide which is true?
What is truth? You can lie to your characters, you can have your characters lie to themselves and to each other factually, provocatively, or without meaning too, just like in life.
What makes the truth? Is it perception or is it something more emotional, more visceral?
There was an actual geographical event causing the collapse of Sodom aka (Bab edh-Dhra) and Gomorrah. Then someone says a deity did the destruction, and that's backed up by some writing for this event that occurred 4000 years ago to an establishment with maybe 1000 people, a city by those times' standards.
The tectonic plates don't lie, well, they do, on top of each other like dinnerware and if the shelf support drops on one side you'll need to buy a new set and eat off of paper plates till then. The Dead Sea area, within a donkey's ride of Sodom, had a 160+ feet change in elevation on that day.
To primitive peoples that's a major catastrophe, they may have had minor temblors, then the big one hit. Lot and company left before that but Mrs Lot looked back and was turned to a pillar of salt.
Aside from the fact that people have salt in them but don't become pillars is that line, 'literary license'? Third parties point to Mrs Lot's assumed guilty pleasures and regrets in leaving them. Isn't that blaming the victim?
Happens all the time. No one blames Lot for being a whoremonger and incipient child-abuser for offering his two virgin daughters to two men visiting him whom he knew were angels.
That poses the questions, A: Why would angels have need of sex? B: Would they have sex with children? If so, they're no angels. C: If Lot offered the children--is it a custom of the place he was following? D: If it was custom then he is as guilty as the rest of the Sodomites for their licentiousness. E: If it wasn't a custom then he is more guilty of the sacrifice of his precious daughters to rape by strangers. F: It's a lie, falsehood, fiction, and artistic license to explain away the 'difference' between 'good' Lot and 'evil' Sodom dwellers who wanted to see these men and speak to them. New guys in town can be trouble, they can be scouts for an invading army, have signs of illness that could infect everyone else, be provocateurs sowing dissent and causing trouble among people. It's not an unlikely scenario.
Does this make sense? No, no one said it had to, BUT, it does make for interesting reading doesn't it? And discussions on theology, ethics, boundaries 'good' parents should follow, etc.
What if Lot was making money off his girls? Whores get better pay than shepherds. What if the girls were promiscuous teenagers and, asked "Hey Dad, let's f--k the new guys to welcome them into the town?" Or it was something Lot did all the time and they were used to being abused? What if they were in love with local boys and had to 'service' Dad's old buddies for a welcome? What if Mrs Lot had to do the same?
Why did she look back? She'd found a way out, she was going to leave with her daughters and start a new life away from Daddy Dearest when he said 'pack it in we're out of here'--and her chance is gone. She's doomed to watch the endless parade of male visitors in another location say 'hello' up close and personal with her underage daughters and there is no escape but death.
The old term for salt is also used for vapor. Lot's wife wasn't turned to sodium chloride, she went pouf by the actions of an angry planet. Lot and his daughters took refuge in a cave and, we're told, the girls, 'thinking it was the end of the world lay with their father to regenerate the world'. Or per usual with child abuse cases in which Dad gives his daughters' bodies to his buddies, the daughters have sexual relations with their dad, again, still.
What's true? What's real? What's fact? What makes good reading?
Are We There Yet? December 06, 2006
Ikarias 3 is finished. Close to 92K. I need to go over it, tighten things up, edit and nitpick, and get beta readers to help me see what works, what doesn't.
God is in the details, and the Devil is in the details. That's how we get drawn in: not to the whole game but to that one shot that makes the game memorable, not to the mass and riot of color in the florist's shop but to those three exotic, alien, bird of paradise flowers with orange petals and the little violet tongues tasting the air.
Here's an exercise that's fun--and that's what this must be, fun, else why do it? Tape a movie you've never seen before, color, b&w, doesn't matter. It's best if you don't know it--pick a genre you don't usually watch. Alternately, rent a video you've never seen. Mute the TV or the comp with your DVD player, go fast forward and stop where there's 2-4 people. No sound, that's important.
Look at them: Where are they? What's the time period? Roughly? Who are they? Do they look rich or poor? What are they doing? How are they dressed? What's the surroundings like? Outside? Inside? What do their expressions tell us?
Example: An old woman sits in a rocker with a cat in her lap. She wears a long black dress as if she's in mourning. A cameo rests at the high neck, off center. She's tall, you can see that even as she sits. Her pale grey hair is wound about her head in an old fashioned way that looks European. Her cream stockings are thick and pulled tight, her feet are tucked into sensible black shoes. The rocker's arms are pale, the varnish worn from years of sitting. The old woman's eyes are open, they're opaque, echoing the wooden arms. She smiles but it's not a kind smile.
The tabby cat's hissing at someone to the left. He's not agitated enough to jump from the lap of his owner. Her hand rests on his hips and he could run if he wanted to.
Behind her, the wallpaper has a Victorian look of pale flowers, slightly yellowed but not peeling.
To the right, her hand on the old woman's shoulder is a woman, younger by at least forty years. They might be related, or at least friends. She looks stern, concerned. Her features are aristocratic: high cheekbones, plucked eyebrows, lipstick applied with art. She's dressed stylish but almost as severe as the old lady, in a dark suit with a single strand of pearls.
The above is details, but not heart.
Making up a story with both catches the reader. I'll taking the old lady's line, her thoughts:
Emma stroked old Mr Tabbs. He hissed at Steven, he never liked that boy even when he was a kit. Steven, known as Stevie then, tried to take the young tom on a ride in his Arrow wagon down Thompson Street. He got all scratched up and blamed Mr. Tabbs for him whanging the wagon into the old maple at the corner lot where the old Foster house used to be. Mr. Tabbs hated the boy ever since then. He didn't get hurt, except for his dignity, and for a cat, that's unforgivable.
Steven's looking for his share of Emmet's will. Looking to take Cassie's share too, though she's been more kin to me than my own blood. Adopted don't mean nothing when she's been here through Emmet's cancer and my failing eyes. Maybe my walking's not as spry, nor my joints as limber, but my mind is sharper than that boy'll ever know.
Where was he when Emmet called for him as the damned thing was eating him up like a wolf tearing at a lamb? Drinking, whoring, gambling, spending his life as a wastrel. Emmet took him out of jail so many times it was a joke. Dignity, my family's dignity lost to a bad seed. He's not getting the money, oh no.
Now the reader wants to know more.
God is in the details, and the Devil is in the details. That's how we get drawn in: not to the whole game but to that one shot that makes the game memorable, not to the mass and riot of color in the florist's shop but to those three exotic, alien, bird of paradise flowers with orange petals and the little violet tongues tasting the air.
Here's an exercise that's fun--and that's what this must be, fun, else why do it? Tape a movie you've never seen before, color, b&w, doesn't matter. It's best if you don't know it--pick a genre you don't usually watch. Alternately, rent a video you've never seen. Mute the TV or the comp with your DVD player, go fast forward and stop where there's 2-4 people. No sound, that's important.
Look at them: Where are they? What's the time period? Roughly? Who are they? Do they look rich or poor? What are they doing? How are they dressed? What's the surroundings like? Outside? Inside? What do their expressions tell us?
Example: An old woman sits in a rocker with a cat in her lap. She wears a long black dress as if she's in mourning. A cameo rests at the high neck, off center. She's tall, you can see that even as she sits. Her pale grey hair is wound about her head in an old fashioned way that looks European. Her cream stockings are thick and pulled tight, her feet are tucked into sensible black shoes. The rocker's arms are pale, the varnish worn from years of sitting. The old woman's eyes are open, they're opaque, echoing the wooden arms. She smiles but it's not a kind smile.
The tabby cat's hissing at someone to the left. He's not agitated enough to jump from the lap of his owner. Her hand rests on his hips and he could run if he wanted to.
Behind her, the wallpaper has a Victorian look of pale flowers, slightly yellowed but not peeling.
To the right, her hand on the old woman's shoulder is a woman, younger by at least forty years. They might be related, or at least friends. She looks stern, concerned. Her features are aristocratic: high cheekbones, plucked eyebrows, lipstick applied with art. She's dressed stylish but almost as severe as the old lady, in a dark suit with a single strand of pearls.
The above is details, but not heart.
Making up a story with both catches the reader. I'll taking the old lady's line, her thoughts:
Emma stroked old Mr Tabbs. He hissed at Steven, he never liked that boy even when he was a kit. Steven, known as Stevie then, tried to take the young tom on a ride in his Arrow wagon down Thompson Street. He got all scratched up and blamed Mr. Tabbs for him whanging the wagon into the old maple at the corner lot where the old Foster house used to be. Mr. Tabbs hated the boy ever since then. He didn't get hurt, except for his dignity, and for a cat, that's unforgivable.
Steven's looking for his share of Emmet's will. Looking to take Cassie's share too, though she's been more kin to me than my own blood. Adopted don't mean nothing when she's been here through Emmet's cancer and my failing eyes. Maybe my walking's not as spry, nor my joints as limber, but my mind is sharper than that boy'll ever know.
Where was he when Emmet called for him as the damned thing was eating him up like a wolf tearing at a lamb? Drinking, whoring, gambling, spending his life as a wastrel. Emmet took him out of jail so many times it was a joke. Dignity, my family's dignity lost to a bad seed. He's not getting the money, oh no.
Now the reader wants to know more.
To the Bitter End December 02, 2006
Up to 88K on Ikarias 3, Balanced Scales. Wrapping up the third of the series is kind of a disenchantment, a loss. I know how it turns out, I've ideas for the 4th in the series, it's like the E ticket ride is over... this adventure, this year-long trek with old friends and new enemies is almost at an end. I will see them again but we'll all be older, a little more chary, a bit rougher and less shiny.
Writers make characters, and they, in turn, influence the writer. Ask any author and they will defend their literary children, no matter if they're good, evil, dull-witted, ugly, pathetic, psychotic, or even non-human, i.e. the old homestead that factors in a flashback, or the little town that sets the pace for the book, or that bite of pecan pie and a quarter cup of hazelnut coffee that waits for someone who's not coming back.
Characters do things I didn't plan on, they have a life and mind and heart of their own. 'They're just fiction, fantasy, not real, in your mind' people say, but then, am I not the creation of a greater mind? What am I doing this for? Me first, it's something I need to do, it's what I do.
The idea of knowing a writer is glamorous, the reality isn't. They have imaginary friends most of the non-writers have dropped by the time they enter puberty. Writers have other worlds that often prove vastly preferable to the real one.
Writers do need to balance their time. Most of us have other jobs we do so we have the luxury of doing what we love in the intersticies of our day. Only the top 1% of published writers can do that and live from it alone. The rest of us need to cook, clean, take care of the important people in our lives, get an oil change for the car, shop for groceries, change the litterbox, get a haircut, sleep.
The siren song of stories needing to be told, creeps back. We're tied to the mast, straining for more while those around us put their back into the oars, stuff wax in their ears, and pull us away.
We may never hear again, but we do remember, and we will write them down.
Writers make characters, and they, in turn, influence the writer. Ask any author and they will defend their literary children, no matter if they're good, evil, dull-witted, ugly, pathetic, psychotic, or even non-human, i.e. the old homestead that factors in a flashback, or the little town that sets the pace for the book, or that bite of pecan pie and a quarter cup of hazelnut coffee that waits for someone who's not coming back.
Characters do things I didn't plan on, they have a life and mind and heart of their own. 'They're just fiction, fantasy, not real, in your mind' people say, but then, am I not the creation of a greater mind? What am I doing this for? Me first, it's something I need to do, it's what I do.
The idea of knowing a writer is glamorous, the reality isn't. They have imaginary friends most of the non-writers have dropped by the time they enter puberty. Writers have other worlds that often prove vastly preferable to the real one.
Writers do need to balance their time. Most of us have other jobs we do so we have the luxury of doing what we love in the intersticies of our day. Only the top 1% of published writers can do that and live from it alone. The rest of us need to cook, clean, take care of the important people in our lives, get an oil change for the car, shop for groceries, change the litterbox, get a haircut, sleep.
The siren song of stories needing to be told, creeps back. We're tied to the mast, straining for more while those around us put their back into the oars, stuff wax in their ears, and pull us away.
We may never hear again, but we do remember, and we will write them down.
Drama? Say What? October 02, 2006
Chasing through the tunnel, the enemy somewhere, sensing without seeing... there!
Wrapping around the monster, struggling as they tear into each other. Tired but unable to give up, he gets a burst of energy and the foe collapses.
That could be two fighters in a darkened city or a white blood cell in a vein going after a virus.
Keeping some things unknown either to yourself, to the audience, or to other characters in the tale creates drama. Tension between characters is drama--one wants one thing, another wants something different or the same thing at another time, or no action at all.
It's all about asking questions and asking more questions. The eternal 'what ifs' that drives the character drives the reader too.
James Michener has a tendency to start his books from the first amoeba struggling in the primordial stew: ala Hawaii, Alaska, Chesapeake, Iberia, then he tells of the epic struggle of mountain chains and river meanderings.
By the time some caveman is sucking his finger from cutting himself with a flint knife it's like--with the geological upheavals and titanic storms, what difference can one little Neanderthal make?
Michener's a good storyteller but he's formulaic. I stopped reading his stuff in my teens because it was always the same beginning and end: Let there be light, separating the waters from the earth, ooze becomes sentient, a two-legged pre-man bops another and climbs the evolutionary ladder. A bunch of character sketches later, cities and civilizations rise and fall, then today we have a thriving metropolis and the chosen family struggling with itself and the world to stay in one peace.
Of course as the trite saying goes, one person can make a difference--but we need to add the influence of others who base their actions on ones who came before, the vagaries of weather, catastrophic epidemics, the ability of those in power to force change into the wrong hands/wrong hearts.
Drama keeps us going, the struggle for everything or anything can be the pull for the audience to keep coming back.
The old Perils of Pauline had early movie goers more interested in the serials than in the features.
Keep the reader asking, 'What's going to happen next' means that they care, and that's what keeps the writer going.
Wrapping around the monster, struggling as they tear into each other. Tired but unable to give up, he gets a burst of energy and the foe collapses.
That could be two fighters in a darkened city or a white blood cell in a vein going after a virus.
Keeping some things unknown either to yourself, to the audience, or to other characters in the tale creates drama. Tension between characters is drama--one wants one thing, another wants something different or the same thing at another time, or no action at all.
It's all about asking questions and asking more questions. The eternal 'what ifs' that drives the character drives the reader too.
James Michener has a tendency to start his books from the first amoeba struggling in the primordial stew: ala Hawaii, Alaska, Chesapeake, Iberia, then he tells of the epic struggle of mountain chains and river meanderings.
By the time some caveman is sucking his finger from cutting himself with a flint knife it's like--with the geological upheavals and titanic storms, what difference can one little Neanderthal make?
Michener's a good storyteller but he's formulaic. I stopped reading his stuff in my teens because it was always the same beginning and end: Let there be light, separating the waters from the earth, ooze becomes sentient, a two-legged pre-man bops another and climbs the evolutionary ladder. A bunch of character sketches later, cities and civilizations rise and fall, then today we have a thriving metropolis and the chosen family struggling with itself and the world to stay in one peace.
Of course as the trite saying goes, one person can make a difference--but we need to add the influence of others who base their actions on ones who came before, the vagaries of weather, catastrophic epidemics, the ability of those in power to force change into the wrong hands/wrong hearts.
Drama keeps us going, the struggle for everything or anything can be the pull for the audience to keep coming back.
The old Perils of Pauline had early movie goers more interested in the serials than in the features.
Keep the reader asking, 'What's going to happen next' means that they care, and that's what keeps the writer going.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)