Friday already

Still feeling unwell, but went into work anyway. Too much there that needed doing for me to languish at home for another day. Took a veritable handful of pills with my breakfast oatmeal to try to keep the demons of head splitting at bay–with marginally successful results. Head’s still fragile, but I was able to function.



Writing Stuff:

Did some pruning of the “Island Love Story” which I’ve now decided to call, with some trepidation “Blind Love.” Knocked off about 300 words, which still makes this baby HUGE. But it’s almost ready for Matthew to take a look at.

Also received a curt “does not meet our current needs” from Neo-Opsis, the new Canadian magazine. Out of four submissions to them, this is the only one that didn’t make it past their first reader. So I’ve learned something about this market: they’re really not interested in High Fantasy. And now I’ve just about run out of places to send this. It’s a good story, dammit. But there just aren’t that many places that will consider a 7500-word “Adventure Fantasy” yarn. Sending it out again, but I may have to come to grips with the idea of trunking this one until another market opens up.

A sick day for me

My headache is still in evidence, and it’s turned into a harbinger of flu. Blah. Staying home today. Going to curl up on the couch with chamomile tea and court Mr. Sandman.



Writing Stuff:

In between naps, and riding the jitters from Sudafed, I managed 500 words on the “Island Love Story.” It’s done! It’s raw, in dire need of a rewrite, but the story’s down from start to finish. It logs in at a whooping 10K manuscript count (around 8.9K word processor count). This one’s going to be a hard sell. But I’m at zero draft! Rah.

Also sold another reprint of “Second Daughter” to the new market Story Station. This is my second reprint sale of this story, my third sale of it total. Sweet.

I asked the editor when to expect a contract, and he said that they don’t have contracts (!) and if that affected whether I wanted my story published by them to let him know immediately. I responded by emailing him a standard contract–almost identical to the one I wrangled up for the previous reprint sale actually–and asked him if he had any problems with it. I haven’t heard back from him yet. I’m a little anxious, but I really do feel strongly about contracts, even if they’re just simple, down-and-dirty ones. I would like this to work out, though, as there are so few children’s lit markets.

Blackberries, skunk dessert, crickets, and sadness

Head still hurts. Ow. Took the afternoon off from work to nap, to try to get rid of this ornery headache. Now I’m slept out, but still in pain.

Went berry picking again last night, right as the storm front started rumbling through. Managed to avoid getting wet, although I once again bear fresh scratch welts from the brambles. Bloodthirsty blackberry gods.

Hobkin turns into a ravenous fiend when he gets a whiff of blackberries and vanilla ice cream. It makes eating dessert something of a tricky enterprise. Yesterday, I let my guard down for two seconds in order to scoop some ice cream into my mouth, and a second later found myself in a tug-o-war with a very determined skunk. He hooked his front paws on the edge of my bowl, used that leverage to stick his nose in, and was busily trying to inhale everything within reach. He hung on so tenaciously that I needed Matthew’s help to rescue my bowl. And this was even after we’d given him a handful of berries for his dessert already. Greedy fuzzwit. At least we managed to keep him from upending the bowl on the floor, which I suspect was his primary goal. After cleaning the ice cream off my hands and the outside of my bowl, I retreated to the computer chair to finish my dessert.



Writing Stuff:

Received a request to see the rest of my middle-grade novel from Cricket Books! I sent my Cricket/Cicada editor a query + three chapters a couple weeks ago. I was a bit uncertain about it as Cricket Books is closed to unsolicited submissions, but they said that they’re still receptive to writers already working with their magazine group editors. Very pleased and excited that she wants to see the rest of it! Crossing of digits and fretting to commence.

Planned to do some writing last night, but spent the evening instead assembling my submission packet, a task made unnecessarily difficult by an obstreperous printer, and hunting for the flat-rate priority mail envelope that I knew I had . . . somewhere.

On the MIA editors front, my Tangent editor still hasn’t posted the review I wrote of Sci-Fiction‘s “Shadow Twin.” I emailed my review to him on June 27th. A week and a half lag for publishing a review for a weekly publication is irritating. And now there’s a new story up already. Dammit. I sent him an email ping to see if there were any signs of life in his vicinity, but so far, “no” is the answer. Also, NFG has been sitting on a story of mine that’s passed their initial round, and has been garnering some rather nice commentary. But they’ve had it for over seventy days, which is way long for them, and only four editors have looked at it. Humph.

In sobering news, one of the members of one of my writers groups has a brain tumor. She’s had it for years now, and has beaten the initial estimates the doctors gave her on her life expectancy, but recently she’s been declining alarmingly. She’s a wonderful writer, won 2nd place in the Writers of the Future Contest a couple quarters back. But it seems unlikely that she’ll be strong enough to attend the workshop and award ceremony. She just went into respit care and her primary caregiver/best friend is going to try to talk her out of continuing her chemo, since she’s pretty sure it’s just killing her faster. It’s all terribly depressing.

Yoked to the cubicle

Really didn’t want to come in to work today. Seems like the more time I get off, the harder it is to drag myself back into the office. Seems counterintuitive, doesn’t it?

The Freon in our A/C froze again yesterday. It only does that when the contraption thinks we’re working it too hard. The last time it happened was last year when we had a houseful of guests, again in the middle of summer, and all the extra bodies radiating heat overstrained it. We changed the filter and Matthew went out and dumped some water on the hose thingy, which thawed it–the same thing we did last time. After an hour or two, it kicked back in, but for a while, our house was getting rather muggy. Hobkin was displeased. It worries me that our A/C is so touchy. Aside from changing the filter periodically (which we don’t do as often as we should), I don’t know anything about the care and feeding of air conditioning units.

On a related note, the news people kept saying that today would be the hottest day of the year. And, for a sprinkling of irony, the A/C is cranked so low at my place of business that I was cold. I keep a cardigan there to combat the ever-changing thermostat levels, but normally it doesn’t see much use in the summer months. I wore it for most of the morning today.

Also struggling to rid myself of a major headache. Not sure if it’s sinus, caffeine, or vascular in origin, so I downed coffee, Sudafed, and Ibuprofen, hoping that something would deaden it. That pain management philosophy resulted in a queasy stomach, the jitters, and a sniffly nose, all compounded by a total lack of respite from pain. Stupid headache.



Writing Stuff:

Forty-six critiques on my current Critters offering. There might be one or two more trickling in tomorrow, but I think I’ve got a good grasp on what the overall opinion set is. This pair of tales was very well received. As such, I decided not to wait to do a final shine and polish of one of the stories. It’s packaged in the mail and on its way to Cricket. Bon voyage little myth!

I hope the Cricket Magazine Group folks don’t think I’m glutting them. I’ve declared a self-imposed limit of three submissions to them, of which no more than two can be to Cricket, but I very much hope that’s not two too many. I wonder if it would be prudent to ask my editor there how many submissions at a time they like to see from their writers? Gosh, what a novel concept, ask rather than stew and fret about it until I’m on the verge of neurosis! Snort.

No words achieved on the “Island Love Story.” I meant to finish it this weekend, but I was struck down by a headache yesterday (possibly the same one I’m suffering from today) and spent most of my time slumped over on the couch. I’m not stressing about it. I’m so close to “the end” I can taste it. It’s just a matter of adhering butt to chair and hammering those few hundred words out.

Instead, when I was in the “able to marginally function” zone, hovering between the effective doses of Sudafed and Extra Strength Excedrin, I finished the overhaul rewrite of the trunked story. Then I discovered that the anthology I intended it for doesn’t open until next month, so I sent it out to another market. Figured it might as well be under consideration somewhere while I wait for the reading period to open. And if it sells before then, well that’s all to the good.

In other marketing news, The Strand has closed to unsolicited subs. They’ve had a story of mine for nearly seventeen months. Does that mean they’re finally going to go through their damn slush?? Also, Challenging Destiny is switching from a print mag to an electronic one, which knocks it down a tier on my “preferred markets” hierarchy. I’ve loosened up on my “only submit to print markets” policy, obviously, as I’ve sold several works to online publications, but I still prefer the feel and look of paper. And my compulsive checking of the Here & Now website keeps resulting in frustration. The site hasn’t been updated since April. If they’ve published issue five which was supposed to see light in May, they’re awfully quiet about it. My story “When the Lights Go Out” is slated for issue six which is supposed to be out in August. And I’ve got two more stories with them, waiting for publication. I really hope they don’t fold, especially before they can publish (and pay me for!) those tales.

Hell, while I’m venting and grousing, I’m still waiting on the Blasphemy antho to hit print. And yes, there are still no royalties to be had from Asylum 3.

I’m apparently in a resoundingly grumpy mood.

Fahrenheit 9/11, writing

Very groggy this morning. Had many weird and esoteric dreams, punctuated at odd moments by a snuffling skunk.

Went to see Fahrenheit 9/11 yesterday. Interesting to watch the movie-going crowd. It was definitely an older bunch. I don’t think any of them were under voting age. Didn’t have to worry about a baby crying or a child kicking the back of my seat, which was nice. While we stood in line to buy our tickets, I eavesdropped, curious to hear what was selling. Obviously Spider-Man 2 was doing a brisk business, but the second place draw was F9/11.

We arrived early enough to see the viewers from the previous showing leave. The movie got applause when it ended, both at our time slot and the one before. How long has it been since people applauded at the end of a movie? Although there’s a definite feel of preaching to the choir, very much like the title’s homage Fahrenheit 451. I mean, who’s reading Bradbury’s anti-censorship masterwork who doesn’t already believe censorship is evil? Anyway, the departing set of viewers had an interesting set of expressions. A lot of them had that blank, I’ve-just-gone-to-see-a-movie-and-I’m-still-in-a-trance-from-it look, but there were some people who looked downright grim, some horrified, some thoughtful, and a few gleeful.

It was good. There was nothing shocking or unexpected in it for me or Matthew, although there were some new snippets of information we hadn’t known about before. There were some pretty graphic scenes, which I guess is the rationale behind the “R” rating. Those will stick with me for a while. Might even transform into a squicky horror story or two.

I heard there were people from the Republican party at previous viewings passing out pamphlets refuting points in the movie, although there wasn’t for ours. Tickled that this movie has them so worried. Go Michael Moore, I sez. Rah!


Writing Stuff:

Received from John O’Neill at Black Gate in response to a query:

“Almost! I was very impressed with “Mistress Fortune.” It’s original, exciting, funny & well written, and has exceptionally strong characters. It’s a surprisingly strong piece, in more ways than one.

“However . . . As strong as it is it, it’s not what I most need at the moment. I’m afraid I’ll have to return it, with genuine regrets.

“You have a flair for urban fantasy, and I hope to see something new from you soon.”

Also an apology for the long response time (250 days!). As rejections go, this one was pretty encouraging. I keep getting “almost!”s from this market, but I’m loathe to crank out more High Fantasy since I’m having such a rough time placing the stuff I’ve already completed. There’s such a limited number of places that consider it, especially at the longer lengths. Also, I only tend to send stuff to them that’ve already made the rounds at quicker-responding markets. Once I submit something to them, I know I’ll have to forget about it for a loooong time.

Didn’t get anything done on the “Island Love Story” yesterday. Instead, I received a call for submissions from an editor I’ve worked with before for a “pays a cut of the royalties” antho he’s co-editing. Despite my distrust of royalty-only paying anthos, I might submit to it because I feel kindly toward the editor, but I certainly won’t be holding my breath on actually seeing a single red cent of pay. As such, I’m disinclined to send him any of the suitable works which I’ve got currently circulating, as I’ve got lofty hopes for most of them. So I brought up an old, previously trunked story and spent my writing time yesterday overhauling it. I like the concept and the storyline from that piece, but my prose was terribly clunky. It’s a story from 2000 that I realized was too ambitious for my skills at the time. Going to see what four additional years of writing experience can do. Gives me a chance to experiment with some stylistic elements. If I like what I end up with, I may toss the editor this to consider in his antho.

blackberries, skunk noses, Italian Job, and writing

Yes, it’s the fourth of July, cheers and clapping and all that. But was it really necessary to set off fireworks last night, so close to our house that it sounded like someone was thumping on our front door? Humph.

In better news, we went blackberry picking yesterday. Our first crop of the season:

We had berries and ice cream for dessert, Hobkin had several with his dinner, and we’ve got enough left over for several more desserts and snacking! Amazing quantity, considering we didn’t plant them and aren’t doing anything to encourage them. We just go out and pick. I did get poked something fierce by a set of brambles. The price one pays to the blackberry gods.

Watched The Italian Job–the 1969 version with Michael Caine, not the 2003 remake. I was disappointed. The middle dragged, and the characterization was flimsy. I found it incredibly tedious by the time it ended. I actually liked the remake better than the original, go fig. The remake took very little from the original, actually, which is probably just as well.

Plan to see Fahrenheit 9/11 today. Looking forward to it.

Also snapped a couple pictures of Hobkin under his hutch: Continue reading

Bubba Ho-Tep and writing

Here I am again, awake at an ungodly early hour on the weekend. Typical.

Watched Bubba Ho-Tep yesterday. Matthew and I are of the opinion that it sprang into existence from an unnatural union of alcohol, a brain storm session with Bruce Campbell cracking everyone up with his “aged Elvis” impression, and someone saying “Wouldn’t it be funny if . . .?”

It was fun and quirky, but I feel no need to see it again.


Writing Stuff:

1.4K on the “Island Love Story.” It’s officially a novelette now. I decided to go with my original concept. I’m heading into the homestretch. There’s a flashback in it. Usually I try to avoid flashbacks, but this one seems unavoidable. Eek.

Going to brew some tea, curl up with my laptop, and see if I can’t finish this over the weekend.

First day of long weekend–AM insomnia

Woke up at the ridiculously early hour of 6 o’clock this morning. So much for sleeping in on my day off. But it did give me a chance to catch up on my email correspondences and LJ Friends List.

Matthew has a touch of the flu, we think. We’ve been going through hand washing contortions to avoid passing it to either me or Hobkin.


Writing Stuff:

Got my coffee, got my laptop. Now for words . . .

Week’s end. At last.

My god, I’m glad this week is finally at an end. You’d think after being on holiday for a week I’d be all rested and raring to go back to work, especially since I have tomorrow off. But this week has been interminable! Four-day weekend, rah.

We have no big plans, though. I’ll probably try to write, maybe accomplish some much-needed unpacking.

And hey, I just discovered via the Speculations Rumor Mill that the Dragon*Con website won the 2004 Wooden Rocket Award in the “Best Convention/Society Site” category. Cheers to the designer, dire_epiphany, and the webmaster, my hubby, Matthew!



Writing Stuff:

1.4K more words on the “Island Love Story.” Resigned that it’s going to end up a novelette at this rate. If it turns into a novella I’ll just stamp it “unpublishable” and strangle my muse.

Starting into the climax with two plot/resolution directions I could take it: my original vision, or a different, slipstreamy, twisty one that occurred to me in a caffeine fugue. I’m totally dithering on where to take this, to the point of seriously considering trying to write it both ways and seeing which one turns out better. Except I’m thinking that’s just not a good idea. It’s a major struggle to finish any story even once. Writing two parallel endings seems over ambitious, not to mention profoundly wishy-washy.

On the one hand, I like my original vision–it’s very modern magic/mythology. But I also like the idea that came to me in a fit of inspiration. I’m loathe to chuck away inspiration, but this second idea will be longer and more convoluted to write. And it might actually end up harder on the ole suspension of disbelief o’meter because of the twists in it.

I don’t know. I just don’t know.