Make up a title for this. Be creative.

I’ve written two posts and then deleted the drafts because they weren’t quite right, weren’t really things I felt like discussing here…or they seemed preachy without any real point. I haven’t been blogging much because really, there’s only so many times that you can hear “I’m working on X story, I had problems with X story, I fixed them / I moved on to Y story when I got stuck.” So I’ve only been blogging when I feel I have something worth saying, and for the past week most of what I’ve had to say about writing, querying, etc. has been things I prefer to keep to myself. So…I guess, just for the sake of posting once this week, I’ll just pop on a vague status update in listy-list form:

• Haven’t missed a day on the 1k a day challenge yet.
• Discovered this may not be the best for my writing process, as forcing it is a good way to kill a story. Live and learn. Hitting the goal of 1,000 words doesn’t make them stink any less when all those words are trash. Eau de Literary Roadkill.
• Revived NIHILISM in story form. Go ahead and groan, Sihaya and Indikaze. SHINJI THE ANGSTBUNNY LIVES.
• Started watching Sita Sings the Blues, which has amazing animation and music.
• Got a few more partial requests on SHADOW’S BREATH.
• Got a few rejections, too. Either nice personal notes saying it’s a good story, I’m a good writer, but it’s not for them…or the usual “dear author” form letters. Onward and upward.
• Told my doubts they can kiss my shiny metal ass, and figured I can try to write a better story while waiting to see if an agent will pick up SHADOW’S BREATH.
• …though I also finished chapter one of SHADOW’S VOICE. Not working on that seriously, though. Sell SB first, then worry about the sequel. Although Roman is now popping up in my dreams. In Cabo. With the Kingpin. Yes, from Marvel comics. You really don’t want to know.
• Got really sick of hearing a thousand contradictory, argumentative predictions on the future of publishing. Also, the Apple tablet. Sweet honking baby jesus.
• Made some shiny new writer friends on Twitter. The large majority of them are batshit insane. That’s okay. I fit right in.
• Got a few good nibbles on editorial jobs; response so far has been positive. Looking good. And behaving myself in public while I try to get a foot in the door. Which means I probably shouldn’t be calling people batshit insane.
• Took a stab at writing a classic romance novel.
• Failed spectacularly and hilariously. I’m a little rusty on what goes where when there’s a woman involved.
• Realized drab, blow-by-blow lists like this are dull as hell.
• Signed off.

Not a zombie!

Guess who isn’t dead?

Oi, where in hell have I been?

Well, to put it shortly…

1. Tooth pain. Bad tooth pain. One of my molars is now nothing but an L-shaped shell that has blessedly been numbed entirely until I can get it pulled out.

2. Months of mental exhaustion from a combination of work and pain that tried to carve my brain cells out and eat them.

3. Months of playing World of Warcraft to distract myself from the pain, and then getting sucked in until it killed what few brain cells I have left.

4. My computer crashing constantly, which was 90% because of #3.

Basically I’ve been kind of slogging through life on auto-pilot. And I got entirely sick of it a couple of days ago. It feels like waking up from a dream where even in the dream I’m sleeping, but it’s good to feel alive again (and not to be in pain anymore, and not to be wasting any more time on a game that really can be like an addiction; I’ve 95% quit, and only log in for about 5 minutes a day).

I have been working on revisions in that time, though, and I’m almost done. I’m not going to start querying with the new version yet, though. I still have to proofread it with a fine-tooth comb, for one, and get some feedback from beta readers to see if it works or not. Also, I still have a couple of fulls out on the old version. It’s a one in a million shot that either agent will want to represent me (isn’t it always?), but should either of them express interest, I think it’d be rude to say, “Oh, you know that manuscript you just wasted a couple of days of your life reading? Well, I have a better one now. Sorry to waste your time!” If someone likes it as-is (well, obviously with revisions–there are always revisions once it gets into an agent’s hands, as they have the professional perspective to help shape it)…well, it’d be stupid not to trust their judgment.

Still, it’s a tricky situation. When I started querying, I thought I was ready. Someone asked about that in the Twitter #askagent chat last night, actually – about what to do when you thought you were ready to query, and then end up rewriting until it’s practically a different, better novel, and if it’s all right to requery. Most were pretty positively responsive, as long as you wait a decent length of time to requery. I don’t know. I don’t even know if I’m going to query with the new version. Depending on the response I get from the agents with fulls, I’ll make a decision on where to go from here.

I miss writing. I’ve been doing a few little drabbles the past few days; nothing really important, but just warming up unused muscles.

As if the entire ramble wasn’t random enough, let’s close off with a completely different topic:

I really wish people would stop making such a huge fuss about President Obama bowing to the emperor of Japan. When in Rome, people. When in Rome. It’s called politeness and mutual respect, and if we’re going to expect everyone to conform to our customs when on our soil, then we can have the courtesy to respect their customs when on their soil. It’s not a sign of weakness or deference, and the kind of close-minded centrism rising around that sentiment is why half the world hates us.

That’s all. So. How’re you? (…if there’s anyone even left in this ghost town…)

Finding North.

Compasses exist for one purpose: finding magnetic north, so we know where we are and where we’re going in relation to the rest of the world.

The compass metaphor has always had easy parallels in life, love, a dozen other aspects of our existence. Someone wandering without direction in life, constantly changing paths, is said to be seeking north. When we meet someone we’re instantly attracted to, we hone in on them like a compass finding north. And let’s not forget radar, the compass 2.0 – annoyances don’t ping on my radar, he’s so setting off my gaydar.

So it’s not surprising that when I find the right direction on a story, I call it “finding north.” I can tell within less than a chapter if a story I’m writing is going in the wrong direction – but until I find where north is for that story I can’t tell what the right direction should be, and I can’t finish it. Not even outlines help; I could know every event that will happen on every page, but without my north writing it just won’t work. It would be a dull, pedantic, recounting of events, not a story. I’d be turning in a circle, aimless, seeking a dozen directions but never able to choose just one as the right one.

North could be a major plot point, a flow of events, a certain voice. North could just be a hook, an opening line that sets the stage just right to give me a jumping-off point and some solid footing. No matter what it is, my story’s north tells me where I am in relation to the rest of the story, and the direction I should be heading. Without that I could write ten chapters and it still wouldn’t be a story; it would just be pointless rambling.

When I find north, I just know – like people with more iron deposits in their blood and bones having a better sense of direction, and just knowing unerringly which way they should be going. Every time is different, but every time brings that click, that knowledge that I’m going the right way and I just have to follow the path to its end. When I find north, the story almost tells itself; I hurtle along in my writing, picking up one piece here, another there, fitting it all together as characters and plot and conflict come alive and twine together into something that’s as much their journey through the tale as it is my journey through writing it.

And I’ve found north on Shadow’s Voice. I’ve found Ken’s voice again, somewhat changed after her experiences in Shadow’s Breath; I’ve found my opening hook, and the chain of scenes that will continue to change Kensington Randall’s life in irrevocable ways – some minor and personal, some sweeping and catastrophic. Will I get lost along the way? Yes. I’ll veer off the path with the queasy feeling in my stomach that this is the wrong direction, and I should turn back around. But eventually I’ll find my way back, whether by retracing my steps or finding a way around whatever obstacle is keeping my story from going where it should.

Because once I find north, I know I’ll be able to find the end of the road.

Snozzberries taste like wha?

Life lesson:

If you’re too tired to do something right, all the sworn avowals in the world don’t matter a damn when you just have to redo it the next day after gaping in horror at the rotten fruits of your own labor.

Yesterday I had a whirlwind day. Two resumes, a ton of e-mails to catch up on, and yet somehow I managed to write 4,000+ words on Shadow’s Voice. I promised myself that hell or high water, before bed I’d rewrite my query for Shadow’s Breath from scratch, focusing on something punchier that captures the dry humor in Ken’s voice without getting as bogged down in adjectives as the old one. By 11:00p I was practically drunk on my own tiredness, but I sat down and wrote the query anyway. Last night I thought it was okay – in need of some minor editing, but okay.

This morning I took one look at it and let out the mental equivalent of a shrill horror movie scream. It was horrible, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. It got the basic ideas I wanted down, but the writing was so loose, clunky, and disjointed that the ideas got lost in a mess that was the literary version of teeth on unglazed porcelain. I’ve since rewritten it, fresh and bright after breakfast and a short work day, and the difference is amazing. Complete 180. I don’t think it’s the best query letter in the world, but it’s better than what I’ve been using and can’t even be compared to what I wrote last night. I should have just waited until this morning and saved myself the extra work.

Thankfully the pages of SV held up better under scrutiny, but those were written earlier in the day when I was still energetic and bushy-tailed. Chapter one’s almost done; just one short scene away, I think, though I want to work out how to end the chapter on some kind of tension. I also jotted down a few later scenes introducing a new character: Jordan, who already has both Anji and Amanda’s inner thirteen-year-olds all a-flutter. I think I like Jordan, though I’m still working out a few things about his base character and personality. Roman will most definitely hate him. Once I figure out those unresolved things on his personality, that’ll determine whether he hates Roman too, or if he’s just so charming he can’t even dislike that surly little monkey.

I’ve got this whole afternoon to write and am determined to stop wasting the time I have, so off I go. Before I do, though, this post is amazing. It actually made me cry, if only because it resonated so much with the frustrations I’ve been suppressing lately in an effort to stay cheerful and positive during the long, confidence-shredding road towards publishing. It’s just great to see a published author speaking so sympathetically and so frankly of (and to) her younger self’s doubts, mistakes, optimism, disappointment…everything every aspiring author goes through. It’s great inspiration to keep your head above water, keep trying, and keep a sensible head on your shoulders.

Green as can be.

Hikaru and I are looking into adopting an adult cat from the local no-kill shelter; the more cats they find homes for, the more room they have to take animals from the kill shelters so they won’t be euthanized. There are three that are just luring us like you wouldn’t believe, but we can only have one. We could probably handle four in-home cats, but it wouldn’t be fair to Chathra (who has an appointment to get shaved again Monday, poor thing). He’s skittish enough without dumping three adult cats on him. We’ll have to be careful about socializing him to one. The one to the right is Lora; we probably won’t adopt her, but I want to. I just want to take her home and feed her until the skinny little thing just about pops, then cuddle her to sleep.

There are days when I wish I wasn’t human, so I wouldn’t feel jealousy. I’m happy to see other writers succeeding, and I can only hold on to the hope that if I keep trying and keep improving, I’ll get there one day. I’ll have the same experience they’re having. At the same time, though, an ugly side of me is jealous. Well, no…not jealous. Jealousy would mean I don’t want them to have those wonderful experiences, and I do. I just want to have them, too. So maybe “envious” is a better word. I want to share that success with them, not take it away from them. I suppose jealousy and envy are natural things to feel, but frankly I don’t like being that petty and strive not to be.

I know, that may seem hypocritical after this post. It’s not, I promise. I’m still being hopeful and positive. My pink kittens are emitting a great deal of sunshine from their nether regions, enough to give me sunburn. It’s a long road, and without hope and determination I’ll never get where I want to be. Sometimes I’m just a little envious of those who are already there. I think my pink kittens may be napping during those spells.

One day. Just have to be patient, keep trying, and keep writing the best stories I can. (Well, that and remember professionalism, etc. Writing is a luxury; publishing is a business, and you’ll never get anywhere if you aren’t polite, professional, and attentive to the requirements of the various people you hope to work with. No matter if it’s your dream, it’s also a job and should be treated that way.)

We’re almost done moving, and perhaps when we’re settled down I’ll be able to get back on a daily writing routine. I peck out a little on Shadow’s Voice now and then, but I probably shouldn’t push much on that until I find out if Shadow’s Breath will even sell. No point writing a sequel unless the first book works out. There are two others ideas I’m percolating on, Frost and Vagrant; once I get some free time I’ll have to take a stab at both and see which one grabs me. I go through so many story ideas it’s ridiculous, but then they aren’t all viable. Sometimes I have to play with them a little to see if they’re really worth writing.

Bah. I have to go finish work, then finish packing. This post has been brought to you by the letter P and the word Procrastination.