Merry New Year

Hey, everybody! Remember that goal I set at the beginning of this month? You know, the one where I said I'd type 'The End' on a manuscript by midnight December 31st? Ain't gonna happen. (I'm still trying to locate a cage, Kris.)



I could go on and on about why this is so, but I think I'm just going to say December was a weird month and leave it at that. It's better this way, trust me. I can, however, tell you that I'm close. Very close. Which brings us to resolutions.



As a general rule, I'm not big on resolutions. They don't do much for me. I figure, if I really need to change something, why wait until January 1st? Nothing stopping me from resolving to do it now, is there? No. Well...except a procrastinatory nature, but I'm overcoming that, so I'm optimistic.



Granted, I started this blog at the beginning of 2010 (so stay tuned for the upcoming Blogiversary -- which is not a real noun, much less a proper noun, but seems to be the common vernacular, so I'm going with it because that's how hip and with-it I am), but that was more of a timeline thing. I wanted to have a specific period of time to accomplish a specific goal. That was for 2010. For 2011? More goals, more timelines, less stupidity.



Which is to say, I will be resolving things tonight, but I won't be waiting until 2012 to resolve again. For one thing, my list is too big. For another, there'll be that whole apocalypse thing to deal with, so it's not likely I'll be terribly efficient.



So, first resolution: Finish the damned first draft The Novel by the end of February. Why? Because January promises to be an even weirder month than December and deadlines are only useful tools if they're realistic. The second resolution will come later, when I've accomplished the first.



Finally, because it's damned near obligatory to make favorites lists at the end of any given year, here are a few of my favorites from 2010:



Favorite Books I've Read This Year:  The Hunger Games Trilogy by Suzanne Collins, Paranormalcy by Kiersten White, and Stardust by Neil Gaiman



Favorite New-to-Me Bands This Year:  Elbow, Florence and The Machine, The Academy Is...



Favorite New Discoveries:  My writer's group, My gorgeous new friends (Betties, you know who you are), My library, which is not new, but does lend Nook compatible e-books, and that is new.



I'll leave you with this:  I hope your 2011 is better than all the years that came before in every conceivable way. Huge, brachiosaurus sized thanks to you all for reading, and...wait for it...I'll see you next year. (What? Have you ever seen a brachiosaurus? They were freaking enormous.)

Vacation

Hello, folks. I hope you and yours have been enjoying the holidays, whichever ones you celebrate. I am lucky enough to have my entire family, Magnum included, at home through the third. It's a good thing, too, because we just got hit with a foot of snow.



Anyway, being that it's vacation week for us, I'm going to take a little bitty day off to enjoy my family.  I shall leave you with this:







Enjoy.  I'll be back on Friday with books and resolutions and all sorts of other stuff! (Okay, not really. Just the books and resolutions.)

100th Post Year-End Extravaganza

It's my 100th post!  (I know -- took me long enough, right?)  Almost one year ago, I embarked on a journey to end my lifelong habit of procrastinating the shit out of everything.  I made a Plan.  I laid out the Rules.  I set Goals. 

I Failed.  Kind of.

To refresh your memory, the rules said that if, any time during the course of my day, I thought, "I really need to (fill in task I'm putting off)," I would do it.  The preferred time was Now, but if Now wasn't realistically available, I was to schedule the activity at the earliest possible time and then follow through. 

This tactic lead to an extremely clean house for about a month.  Then...failure.  I said things like, "I really need to get that laundry folded."  But did I follow through?  Not so much.

However, somewhere along the way, something else happened.  Something wholly unexpected.  One day, I thought, "I really should start writing that story."  And I did. 

I think what you need to appreciate here is that I'm a big, fat, lily-livered chicken.  When I began my college career, it was with majors in English and Secondary Education, with a minor in Creative Writing.  I wanted to be a writer. I'd always wanted to be a writer.  (Okay, there was a brief veterinarian stint, but it didn't last.)  But even then, I didn't have any confidence in myself. 

Notice the education major.  I never really wanted to be a teacher.  I'm not cut out for it.  I haven't the patience for dealing with other people's kids all day, every day. But I figured, that's where I'm going to end up, so why not be prepared?  Honestly, if I'd actually pursued that career path, I'd be mentally malfunctioning within two years, guaranteed. 

So what did I do?  Move the creative writing up in the ranking?  Pursue what I really loved and wanted all along?  Nosiree.  I changed my major altogether.  Several times.  I exited college with a degree in Paralegal Studies, because, hey, I kinda liked Civics in high school.  I shit you not. 

I swear, when I look back on myself then, I'd like to give myself a good swift kick.  What the hell was I thinking?  The thing was, I didn't mind the work.  It required research and precise wording and it suited me.  In theory. 

In reality, I wound up working in a court.  If you've never worked in a court, please allow me to summarize.  It sucks.  People in courts are either underpaid, inconvenienced, or being penalized.  It's enough to make you itchy.  Also, it occurred to me that I didn't want to be doing a job that I didn't mind.  I'd rather be doing a job that I loved. 

Except I wouldn't.  Because I didn't think I was good enough.  Now, truth be told, I wasn't.  However, I assumed that because I wasn't good enough then, I never would be.  Can you beat that?  No one can talk me out of something like me. 

What I discovered this year was that I'm wrong.  Which isn't to say I wasn't good enough then, but I am now.  Not remotely.  I'm not good enough yet, but I'm getting there.  I'm working at it.  I'm studying everything I can.  I'm writing.  Is it good, this writing?  Sometimes yes, sometimes no.  But I'm starting to learn enough to begin to recognize the bad and to go back and correct it.  It's fantastic.

So, while I failed to accomplish my original task, here are some of the things I did accomplish this year.

• I wrote eight complete short stories.


• I submitted my work to various publications for the first time.


• Due to the extreme generosity of another, I took Lani Diane Rich's Storywonk Revision class.  (Highly recommended, by the way.)


• I entered and completed NaNoWriMo. (I considered entering last year, but didn't because, "There's no way I can write that much in that amount of time.  It would take me a year!")


• I had two pieces of flash fiction accepted into Pill Hill Press's Daily Bites of Flesh Anthology.


• And I'm on the cusp of finishing my first novel-length draft. 

That's a damn fine list.  I'm proud of it.  My house is a mess, but I'm still proud.  It's been a wonderful year.  I'm almost sad to see it end, but I'm so excited to see what comes next.

If you celebrate Christmas, I hope that you and yours have a warm and loving day.  May the upcoming year be as weird and wonderful for you as this year has been for me.

Merry Christmas.

It's Heeeeerrrre...

And by "it," I mean the book.  You know -- The Book -- the one with my stories in it.  Squeeee!



As you can see, it's Horrifying. (See how horrified I am?)

Daily Bites of Flesh 2011 from Pill Hill Press

Also, I need a haircut.  But I'd like you to ignore that for now and focus on The Book.  There are piranhas swimming in blood on the cover.  Tell me that's not cool.  Plus, there are many fantastic stories in it.  My heart is aflutter with bajillions of tiny, sparkly butterflies of happiness to be in such awesome company. No, I'm serious.

Other than that, I'm trying to get Christmas all wrapped up. *rimshot*  Honestly, it looks like a toy store went out and shared some Christmas cheer with a book store in the form of heavily spiked eggnog and the two of them vomited all over my house. 

Free advice, from me to you.  Unless you have:  a) A very large house, or b) A penchant for regularly sorting and rotating toy supplies, don't -- do not -- have four kids.  You're welcome.

So tell me, dear folken, what are you doing for your holidays (whichever ones you celebrate)?  Is it eggnog and presents for you? Hanukkah (in which case, I hope it was happy)? Kwanzaa? Solstice (happy, happy to you and enjoy the accompanying eclipse)? Festivus?   Do share, I'd love to hear about your traditions.



Oh, and Magnum would like you all to know that the couch is free of laundry. As the men of Monty Python once said, there was much rejoicing.

Originality

Somewhere along my personal journey to writerhood, I decided that I'd like to be an author of contemporary fantasy.  It's a genre I like to read and I find that when I write, I gravitate in that direction. 



Contemporary fantasy is a genre where fantastic elements appear in, or intrude upon, the contemporary world.  Think Twilight, Sookie Stackhouse, etc. -- except I don't write vampires. 



Now, the major problem with this genre, at least as I see it, has been that of originality.  One need only go to the YA section of one's local bookstore to see what I mean.  It's a major reason that I loved The Hunger Games trilogy by Suzanne Collins (yes, I know it's not really contemporary, but more dystopian) and Paranormalcy by Kiersten White.  They had some wonderful originality going on.  Plus, Paranormalcy was just fun.  Really.  Go read it.



So, in my quest to Write Better Fiction, I've been working on short stories within my chosen genre.  It's a format that's always appealed to me for it's flexibility -- you can be as experimental as you like, and it's inherent challenge -- it's harder to include a full story arc in a smaller space.



Anyway, the other day I was looking for some markets for fantasy short fiction, and came across Strange Horizons, an online speculative fiction magazine.  In their submission guidelines, they included a list they've entitled Stories We've Seen Too Often.  I'm finding this list indispensable.



Here's the deal.  The short story market is competitive.  Many writers, in order to gain publishing credits, begin their careers by writing and submitting short stories.  In the sci-fi/fantasy world, this is especially true, since publishing is the only way to be eligible for membership in the SFWA.  The volume of work is heavy, while venues for publishing are relatively scarce.  So how do you make your work stand out?



Well, the first thing is excellent writing, as always.  But a fairly close second is originality.  That's where the list comes in.  The list is broadly thematic and not necessarily genre specific.  If you don't write fantasy, it's still worth checking out.  And it's important to note that they never call it the Bad Ideas list.  It's simply a list of stuff they see all the time.  Which means, if it's on the list, everybody's doing it.



As a writer, it is my unfailing hope that I'm not writing what everybody else is writing.  I mean, yeah, you can look at your stuff and say, "Well, my story fits into that trope, but I'm doing it with a twist, so I'm good."  But why oh why would you want to?  Why take the chance that the editor's going to read one paragraph and say, "Seen it," and move on?  I don't want to take that chance.  So I'm finding the list helpful.  I hope that you do, too.



As an aside, I am now regularly receiving hits from a Russian home design site.  I don't know why, but the Russians seem to like me.  So, if you're Russian, На здоровье!  (Sorry, it's the only Russian I know.)



Your writing assignment for today:  What's a better way to show surprise/disbelief/questioning sanity than raising/cocking/knitting eyebrows?  Lay it on me.  I'll put your answers in the Better Ways To Say It tab. 

Oy Vey

The crud has landed.  Everyone in my house, with the one exception of my daughter, has come down with a nasty cold over the past week.  We have been hacking and coughing and generally keeping the Kleenex industry humming.  Most of us are now over the hump and are improving.  The baby is not.



For my three year old, this is the fourth day of fever and the (almost) second day of ouchie ears and eye yuckies.  Today, we'll be taking a trip to the doctor's office.  Two of the older kids will be tagging along because their school, along with several other town buildings, lost water yesterday and hasn't yet gotten it back.



It hasn't been the most glorious of weeks.  Hopefully, we'll leave the doctor's office today with a prescription for something helpful and the baby will be on the mend.  Eyes crossed.



Sorry for the downer of a post today, but that's life right now.  I'll be back stronger later. 

The Problem Is This

I'm back into my first draft of my first manuscript full bore, now.  The big thing in that whole mess was that I screwed up a plot line and had to go back and fix it before I could continue.  I've fixed it.



The problem is, during the fix, I had to read through a good portion of the text as it stood.  During that process, one thing -- a huge thing -- jumped out at me.  I use boring verbs.  And I'm not even counting the awful, passive being verbs that crop up in every other sentence, those are bad enough.  No, I'm talking boring verbs.



This has prompted me to take a leap into a place that others (Bona Fide, Carol, I'm looking at you) have called The Writer's Sandbox.  Today's assignment:  Find a less boring way for someone to walk out of a room. 



Because, see, that verb 'walk' is boring.  I mean, sure, people walk out of rooms all the time, but it doesn't exactly make for good fiction.  Barbara walked from the room, leaving Jim alone, is hardly a dynamic sentence.  We don't get much from it other than the fact that Barbara has left and Jim remains. 



We can change the meaning, show emotion, convey a sense of what came before, just by changing the verb.  For instance, if Barbara should storm from the room, we understand that she's angry, most likely with Jim.  If Barbara scuttles from the room, we wonder what she's up to. 



This is not new stuff, not at all.  It's good, old-fashioned showing vs. telling.  (If you're still unclear on that concept, Tawna Fenske has a great post about it here.)  However, while it may not be new, it is undoubtedly difficult to master.  A thesaurus can only help so much, because really, if you look up 'walk,' how likely are you to find 'scuttle?'  (You're not likely to find it at all; I checked.)



So, I'm asking for your help.  What can we do other than walk?  Are there any other boring verbs you'd like to replace?  I'll keep track of any verbs you post in the comments and place them into a nice neat little tab at the top so you can find them should you need them.  My writing and I appreciate your input. 

Boogie In The Kitchen

PSA:  Today is Pearl Harbor Day in the United States.  If you know a veteran from that generation (or run across one at any point in time), please thank him for saving the U.S.A.'s ass for you.  And don't forget to lower your flag.  If you are a WWII vet, thank you.



Moving on.



I am a big believer in dancing around the house like an idiot.  Honestly, if I didn't do it, I'd never get any exercise at all.  Sometimes I even stand at my computer and shake my groove thang while I'm writing.  No, really...it's a vision.  Anyway, I recently promised Bona Fide Betty that I'd get her a dancing list.  Today's post is for you, Betty.  A list of songs to get your kitchen groove on.



Now, since I don't know Madame Bona Fide's precise taste in music, I'm going with the shotgun approach -- a wide sampling of songs, starting with: 



The Classics:  Because you can't go wrong with the classics.  (If any of you don't have these songs in your collection, please correct the situation immediately.)

Atomic Dog by George Clinton

Ballroom Blitz by Sweet

A Little Less Conversation by Elvis Presley

Love Shack by The B-52s

Superfreak by Rick James

Play That Funky Music by Wild Cherry



More Modern Stuff:  Because I'm not ancient.

Everyday by Dave Matthews Band

No You Girls by Franz Ferdinand

Brick By Boring Brick by Paramore

Move Away by The Killers

By The Way by Red Hot Chili Peppers



80s Redux: Because, while I'm not ancient, I am middle aged and I miss Aqua Net.

Light of Day by Joan Jett and The Blackhearts

Fly Me Courageous by Drivin' N' Cryin'

You Spin Me Round by Dead or Alive

Dr. Feelgood by Motley Crue

Play With Me by Extreme

I Come From The Water by The Toadies



Token Country Songs:  Because.

Mr. Policeman by Brad Paisley

Drinkin My Baby Goodbye by Charlie Daniels Band



I think that's enough to be getting on with.  I hope it gets you started, Betty.  And if you (or anyone else) prefers the head banging (that's right, I said the head banging), let me know.  I can help.



Oh, and I would like to apologize for the lack of pithiness here today.  I'm up to my neck in revisions and basketball practices and holiday obligations and OhDearGod the laundry.  I'll do my best to be my normal blithering self by Friday.  In the meantime, shake your booty -- it likes it when you do that.  (Also, I know these aren't links.  Sorry.)

For Future Use

I inherited a sense of humor from my father which is dry and some people don't get.

From my mother, I inherited a love of books.  She showed revernce for something she didn't always have.



Better way to say:

She looked daggers at him.

He shook his head to clear it.

Assorted Sundries

Okay, you know how they say birth order plays a significant role in personality development? So, how does that work in China where, presumably, everyone's an only child?



Right. Stupid question, but it gives you some sense of how my mind is functioning right now.  It probably doesn't help that I'm watching a band of Peruvian transvestite prostitutes chasing a small contingent of police down the street on TruTV.  PSA:  Avoid TruTV programming.  You're welcome.



All right, on to something more intelligent.  My kiddos won NaNoWriMo!  They're both very excited.  My son has even finished his story.  My daughter is still working on hers, which has led to much trash talk and nagging on the part of my son.  They both, however, have received their certificates and hung them prominently on their bedroom walls.  It's a proud moment.



As far as my own writing goals, I have decided to pick up the novel I put down for NaNo.  I ended up putting it down because I wrote myself into a bit of a corner, plot-wise, and needed to work it out before I could continue.  Now that I've figured out the problem, I need to rewrite a good chunk of the story and then finish it up.  December 31st or bust, where bust=severe disappointment in oneself with resultant emotional self-flagellation.  But I refuse to dwell on that grim prospect.  The only way to it is through it, as they say, so I'm pulling on my muck boots and through it I go. 



In the meantime, I'm preparing for Christmas.  By which I mean, I'm adding things to a folder in my Favorites entitled "Stuff I Want."  Here's the most recent addition:  I want this t-shirt, but really, I want the whole store.



So what about you?  What's on your Christmas list?  (And don't get all existential on me.  None of that love and family and world peace crap; everybody wants that.  It's a given.  I'm talking about the stuff.)