Ivan, Hobkin, writing

The fringes of Ivan are being felt here. It’s very dark outside, and there’s a deluge of rain. I checked the forecasts and it looks like they’re now predicting that the eye won’t even go through Georgia, so I suspect all we’ll get is a few thunderstorms over the weekend, but then that’s pretty much what we expected anyway.

Finally heard from Patrick. He weathered Ivan at a friend’s parent’s house that’s on the west of the Louisiana bay area, above sea level. I checked the storm maps and it looks like the area he’s in was downgraded to “tropical storm” from “hurricane.” At least he’s above sea level.

Hobkin displayed that he has a wee brain last night. Matthew startled him as he was eating his midnight snack. We’re not sure what happened next. As best as we can figure it, Hobkin bit his own tongue or his mouth–like people occasionally do and it both hurts like the dickens and makes you feel inordinately stupid. We theorized that he didn’t understand or know how to deal with the pain, and blamed the veggies he was eating for the hurt in his mouth. He began to systematically “kill” his midnight snack–pawing and scratching veggies apart, and in the process getting vegetable guts everywhere. After mauling them quiescent, he would try to take a bite of the resultant mush, but apparently his little mouth still hurt, so he would go back to killing them again.

I was concerned he’d cut his mouth or chipped a tooth or something, so I picked him up and tried to peer in. He made to snap at me, but when I touched the side of his mouth, he flinched away, which really worried me at first. I ended up using a piece of bread to lure his mouth open so I could see in. All teeth intact, no blood or visible wounds. Silly beastie.

By morning, of course, he was fine and ate an extra-hearty breakfast. Even begged shamelessly for more. His brain is small. It’s a good thing he’s so cute.



Writing Stuff:

Ooo! My Ascendancy of Blood eBook is now #5 on the Fantasy bestsellers list at Fictionwise!

And, holy Jeebus! I checked the current bid on my chapbook at the ebay charity auction, and it’s at $22.50! This book retails for $3.49. Wow. And the auction doesn’t even end until the 18th. Wow.

So far, ten crits from Critters on “The Tanuki-Kettle,” and it’s going over well. A couple folks have commented that they think it would be appropriate for both a younger audience and an older one, which pleases me. And I actually managed to lop off nearly two hundred words, bringing it under 3K. I’m worried that I may have butchered it, though.

In any case, I have plenty of time to mull it over. When I do get it to “final draft” stage, it’ll still have to languish in my “to send to Cricket” queue for a minimum of two months . . . unless the Cricket Group rejects one of the submissions I have with them. Or buys something with uncharacteristic swiftness.

A writerly rant



Writing Stuff:

A rare “friends only” post to vent about the Borderlands 6 rejection I got. Normally I consider myself fairly thick-skinned when it comes to rejections, but this one really provoked me.

This one was so bad I would have rather have gotten a form. It’s not the rejection which raises my hackles, but the tone of it. Would it have killed them to take a page from GVG/JJA’s book and make their rejections a little less snarky?

The editors admonished me for not reading their guidelines (which I had), not reading the previous Borderlands anthos (which, granted, I hadn’t), and wasting their time (glah?). The last bit really irked me. They said that by sending them something so utterly unsuitable, that it was a waste of their time.

I’ve always believed that a writer shouldn’t do the editor’s job for them and self-reject. Hell, I often find it baffling what a market buys of mine and what they reject, so if I have something within what I see as the realm of their guidelines, I send it in. I figure it’s the editor’s job to pick the stories they want from the slush, and mine to write the best I can. Over time I’ve gotten a better feel for what some markets are looking for by what they’ve responded well to and what they’ve bought (as well as, yes, by reading what they’ve published), and I’ve noticed that often the guidelines and the editor’s tastes seem to be at odds.

Now, okay, I didn’t read the previous Borderlands anthos. While I do read ravenously, I haven’t managed to read every single publication I’ve submitted to. I mean, I haven’t even read every publication I’ve sold to. I did read the guidelines, as I read all the guidelines to markets I submit to. They said “we are not looking for any of the traditional bug-bears and boogeymen. No ghosts or vampires need apply. No zombies, no werewolves, no mummies, succubi, or Hitchcockian spouses with plans to do in their mates.” I didn’t send them that. I sent what I consider “dark fantasy.”

Chalk it up as a learning experience, I guess. They don’t want anything that resembles traditional fantasy. Check. And I’ve heard from the RM that they don’t want science fiction either. Check.

But it ticked me off.

Ivan

And Ivan whirls ever closer. Or friend, Patrick, lives in New Orleans. Haven’t heard from him about his evacuation plans. I hope he’s not planning on trying to sit it out. His city is below sea level, for godsakes. I’ve emailed him to let him know that our home is open to him as a storm refuge. Anxiously waiting to hear back. I hope he’s already left. I hope I hope I hope.

It’s been quite a year for storms. (Am I wallowing in understatements or what?)



Writing Stuff:

Heard from Nathan, my Scrybe Press editor, that the eBook of Ascendancy of Blood is #15 on the Fantasy bestsellers list at Fictionwise.com, ranking it above George R.R. Martin’s A Storm of Swords. Oooo.

Got an email from the editor of the Carnifex Press Revenants anthology that they’re holding my submission for the next round. Coolness. And, as a counterbalance, I received a 124-day reject from the Borderlands 6 anthology.

Also wrote my review of the three-part Sci-Fiction novella and sent it to my editor at Tangent.

And Andrew deems me a pro! My story “The Tanuki-Kettle” got bumped up the Critters queue to this week’s offerings. Neato.

I didn’t put any author’s notes on it regarding what audience age I’d intended this for. Curious to see if people will notice and comment that it seems written for youngsters. After some consideration, I really do think it’s more appropriate for Cricket rather than Cicada. I’m going to try to lop off a couple hundred words (oof), and bring it down to 3K, then send it to my Cricket editor and hope. The worst she could do is say “too long! No.” Now the trick is to get it down to 3K . . .

Up to eyeballs in skunk fuzz

When I said a few months ago that it was skunk shedding season, I had no idea. I swear, it seems like Hobkin hit the EJECT button on his coat. He’s fooffing out his undercoat and his long, coarse tail hairs. Everywhere in the house there’s billowing tumbleweed-esque balls of downy, white fur, punctuated by handfuls of long tail hair. Only twenty-four hours after a thorough vacuuming and there is, once again, fur everywhere. I’d say I couldn’t wear black, but since so much of my wardrobe is black, I really can’t omit it completely. So I’m just wandering around in public looking like I’ve waded through a swamp of white fuzz. Sheesh.

On a heartening note, he looks sleeker these days, like he’s lost some weight. I wonder how much fur weight he was trundling around with last December?



Writing Stuff:

Did a once over of my folkish story to bring it to first draft, and sent it up the Critters queue. Emboldened by my recent Realms of Fantasy sales, I asked Andrew if I qualified yet as pro enough to get a bump up the queue. I await his response with bated breath.

The last segment of the three-parter on Sci-Fiction is due up tomorrow, so I’ve started on the current story: “Left of the Dial” by Paul Witcover. I usually prefer to review as I read, making comments and jotting down notes as they occur to me. Because of that, I typically strive to finish a story in a single sitting that I’m reviewing. But Witcover’s story is a novella, and I’m not on a Caribbean cruise this time, with endless hours to languish with my laptop, overlooking the ocean. Pook.

Beginning to get twitchy on the response time front. Thinking about querying LCRW which has had a story of mine since May, and IROSF, just to make sure they received my cyberpunk article. *twitch*

You know you’re getting old when . . .

It must be a sign of age that I can go to sleep fine and dandy, and when I wake up, I’ve managed to hurt myself. Once again, I must have slept funny on my neck. It’s all stiff and cricked. Stupid vertebrae.



Writing Stuff:

Mailed off the contract to Fantasist Enterprises for “Souls of Living Wood.” Also sent a check to Nathan of Scrybe Press to cover the Ascendancy of Blood chapbooks I bought for Dragon*Con. Of excellent news on that front, I had royalties coming my way, so I could subtract that from the amount I owed him. Money is good. I like moolah. Yup.

Matthew first readered my story. He didn’t like it. But then, he never really groks my folk/fairy tales. Nevertheless, he made some good points, which I shall implement and then send the thing up the Critters queue. This is the first time in a very long time that I haven’t had something waiting in the queue. Makes me feel like a slacker.

Charity eBay Auction

Heard from Nathan, my editor at Scrybe Press, that a signed copy of my Ascendancy of Blood chapbook is being auctioned on eBay to benefit Matthew’s Miles, an organization started by author John Passarella whose son has an inoperable brain tumor. Proceeds of this auction go to support brain cancer research of the American Brain Tumor Association.

Buying this counts as a charitable donation! The auction ends on 9/18. There are a bunch of other great things to bid on for this cause. Please take a look! And if you could pass this info on to bring awareness to the cause, that’d be great! Clicky click!

Eugie’s amazing weekend continues


Writing Stuff:

Received today:
70-day encouraging personal reject from Futurismic after making the second round (with invite to send more).

AND

87-day SALE to the Modern Magic: Dark Tales of Fantasy anthology, published by Fantasist Enterprises. Woohoo!

Also got a lovely email from Laird Barron praising my Tangent review of his story “Bulldozer” in Sci-Fiction.

This weekend just keeps getting better and better.

Taking on dimension

I feel less flattened today. Amazing what crashing out for twelve hours straight can do to a person’s disposition. I even had the fortitude to update the Daily Dragon Online with some last minute articles, the Art Show Awards, and the Hall Costume Contest Winners. Go me.

More articles, pictures, and pagmatic‘s cartoons to be added as they trickle in.

Mostly caught up on my recent Friends List reading. Can’t possibly catch up on all the time I missed, so if something happened over the D*C weekend that I should know about, drop me a line, plez!


Writing Stuff

Received a form reject from Chronicle Picture Books. Humph.

Want to go over my cute folkish tale again, but I think it’s getting close to ready for Matthew to first reader.

Might be a good weekend for writing. *knocks on pressed particle board*

Still a smear on the virtual highway

Had a little alarm clock snafu this morning. I was pinned by a skunk and just wanted nine more minutes of sleep when my alarm went off. Wasn’t thinking too clearly, otherwise I would never have done what I did next. I rolled over, prodded Matthew, and asked him to hit snooze. After a few more prods, he lumbered up, the alarm clock fell silent, and I fell back asleep.

Half an hour later, Hobkin decided it was time for breakfast and scampered off to see if the breakfast fairy had made an appearance, which woke me up. I looked at the clock and realized it was much later than I had expected. Matthew blearily asked: “You didn’t want me to turn it off?” Chaotic rushing ensued.

Not a good way to start the day.



Writing Stuff:

Finished proofing the galleys of “Of Two Minds in Lanais” for Leading Edge and emailed my corrections to the editor. I think that’s the longest I’ve ever kept something that needed to be done from an editor in my life–rewrite request, contract, synopsis request, or proof. I guess I shouldn’t beat myself up over a week, but it still makes me feel like I dropped the ball in there.

I heard my muse cackling maniacally, alternating with hysterical giggles. I thought it best to leave her be for a while longer, but she seems to be displaying a surprising amount of resilience.

Discovered a cute folkish tale I’d set aside. I re-read what I’d written, and liked what I had too much to leave it unfinished. So I rattled off 2000 new words and just like that, it’s done. Hunh. But I’m not sure what I’m going to do with it now. When I started it, I had intended it for Cricket. But it clocks in at nearly 3.4K, far too long for them. Hmm. Perhaps that’s why I set it aside in the first place.

Ah well. I’ll see if I can cut it down or, more realistically, hunt down other markets for it. I wonder if it would be suitable for Cicada?

But I finished another story. Yay!