The Mimosa Effect 2

Remember how, way back in the dawn of time, I announced the completion of the final big climax scene of the John Dresden story? Well, the bleepin’ eternal tome of infinity (how’s that for redundancy?) now has a real, proper ending, with the requisite bittersweet final lines and everything.

Everything, that is, except a wee little 2-page-or-so epilogue, and the words “THE END”. I’ll get back to you when the last couple of pages have chugged their way out of my laser printer onto the physical reality of the printed page.

In the meantime, I plan to limp back home from the cafe in which I’m sitting (after 5 hours of writing yesterday, and 4 straight hours today, my back is one big twisted knot of ouch), settle down on the couch with a cup of tea in one hand* and a cat in my lap, and consider it a job well done.  [*Update: It ended up being ice-cream, actually, and an ongoing rotation of three cats. Also, apparently the nice people at the cafe let me stay almost half an hour past closing; perhaps they were afraid that, as with sleepwalkers, disturbing me might be somehow dangerous.]

Later all.

p.s.  Yes, I really did fill a journal with ramblings about my journey out west, and took many many lots of pictures, I just haven’t got them up online yet.  Will post an update here when I do.  There will be podcasts and slideshows and everything.

p.p.s.  The Chronicles of Nyx and Dozer will be returning shortly, for the two of you who were actually reading them.  Already have the next two installments written, they just need to be transcribed and uploaded.

p.p.p.s.  Doctor Who and Neil Gaiman, together at last.   Aside from David Tennant proving himself to be a total fanboy geek at ComicCon, I don’t think there’s anything more geektastic than that**.  Unless we could somehow work Joss Whedon into the mix…. (as Captain Jack would say, “I can’t tell you what I’m thinking now…”)

**Although Matt Smith playing the Doctor Who theme onstage with Orbital in Glastonbury might come close:

The good news is, I finally finished the big climax scene of the John Dresden story (and there was much rejoicing).  The downside is, I have more editing to look forward to.  And, since this time the final-pass editing slog will result in a novel (hopefully) ready to be sent out into the world (…trying not to think about that part overly much…), all of my frivolous little side projects, N&D included, will have to get shuffled to the back burner. 

To sum up – Nyx and Dozer will be on hiatus for a bit, as I juggle novel editing, landscaping/house stuff, prepping for my extended trip out west, and the usual madness of wedding & concert season getting into full swing.  Things look to be quieting down some time after the end of July, so the plan is to wrap up the Nyx & Dozer story in either August or September. 

In the meantime, the odd video or silly link might make the occasional random appearance, but the writerly part of the blog is officially on summer vacation.  (Heck, it was warm enough for July earlier this afternoon, so why not?)

Cheers all.  Until later.

…Um.  That would be the author, being distracted by all sorts of interesting things (among them: blueberry pancakes, new Doctor Who DVD’s, furniture moving, MP3’s and treadmills).  On the upside, had a fun day that included going to the gym for the first time in just about forever (yes, a fun day that included going to the gym; helps to have good music along for the ride).  On the downside, totally neglected to transcribe today’s Chronicles offering.   You can tune in tomorrow for the next Nyx & Dozer installment. 

In the meantime – stay strong, be brave, wait for the signs.  (And if you get hungry, there are still three mini blueberry pancakes in the fridge. You can take some for the road, if you like.)

The Wednesday Nyx & Dozer installment will be posted on Thursday this week. 

It’s recently become apparent that more work than expected will be required to get the Chronicles into some semblance of chronological order, among other things (they were in kind of rough shape when they were pulled from the trash bin).

Regular programming will resume shortly.  Thank you for your patience.

- The Management

So much so, that he’s letting anyone who wants to pimp their literature of choice in this post here, just so he can laugh at them with that evil maniacal laugh of his.  Bastard.

The sad thing is, that I still haven’t read any of his books (unless you count a few chapters of that free online alien thingie).  But I did read Steven R. Boyett’s “Ariel” when I was a kid, which as Mr. Scalzi so nicely reminded us is back in print after more than a decade.  Very cool little story, one of the ones that stuck in my head, and can still be recalled in detail lo these many years later.  Don’t let the fact that there’s a unicorn in it throw you off, it’s actually quite urban and gritty and not at all fluffy.  Honest.

Editing to add, that one of the many links promoted in the 150+ comments was to this short story here (“Mr. Penumbra’s Twenty-Four-Hour Book Store”), which is entirely worthy of reading.

Let me explain… No, that would take too long.  Let me sum up…

See, a little over a year ago a certain madman was gripped by the overwhelming (some may say baffling) urge to blog every day for a year (the torch for which is now being carried by a strange but not at all scary monster over here).  Which, in turn, reminded me that I needed to get into the daily writing habit if I wanted to have any hope of becoming a real novelist with a capital N.  This little sideline challenge to myself started back on September 1st, 2008, and quietly slunk over the finish line on Sept. 2nd. 

The reason for the distinct lack of fanfare is partly due to the fact that it didn’t really feel like a particularly special day, just another day of writing as usual.  Which makes me think that perhaps the strategy might actually have worked, in that it has ingrained this odd little daily writing ritual into my bones, so that I feel rather peculiar if I don’t write on any given day.  (While this may be seen by some as an affliction, or possibly even a serious disorder, I myself see it as an accomplishment.  But then, crazy people never truly believe that they are crazy).

The lack of balloons and sparklers is also partly due to the sad fact that the 365 days were not technically all in a row.  There were, alas, two complete 24-hour stretches in which not a stitch of writing was done.  Now, I could say that I had valid excuses on both of these occasions (not the least of which was another death in the family, and the travelling to the funeral thereof).  But we all know that an excuse is just an excuse, no matter what you dress it up as, so there you have it. 

Now that we’ve tripped over into the new year, I figured a new challenge was in order.  From now on, the spiffy coloured sticklers only get slapped on the calendar if I’ve actually written part of a novel chapter, or at least edited part of a novel chapter.  Oh, there will definitely still be days that only see a few half-hearted scribblings in the journal-of-the-month, or some random surreal freefall short dashed off at four in the morning, but the focus will be on books – writing, polishing, and most importantly, FINISHING books.

Onward and upward, to infinity and beyond, and all that jazz.

Copying over a post from Saturday Scribes. Feeling lazy today. Besides, it’s great news for two of my favourite writers!

Winners of the 2009 Hugo Awards are up, as of August 9th:

http://www.thehugoawards.org/2009/08/2009-hugo-award-winners/

I have to say, I think it’s totally awesome that Dr. Horrible’s SingAlong Blog won for Best Dramatic Presentation – Short Form. Way to go Joss! And another one of my favourite guys, Neil Gaiman, won for best novel. I’m not sure, but it might be the first time that a YA novel has won in that category.

Now I have to start scrounging around in the local book stores and start doing some serious reading. It’s been far too long since I bothered to check out new SF authors (I’ve been a bit of a creature of habit, genre/reading wise lately).

Since many of us are in the midst of that oft-dreaded novel (or short story) editing phase, I thought I’d pass on a bit of advice from Neil Gaiman, culled from a couple of different blog posts back in ‘05.

 When asked, how do you make friends with your own writing, and overcome the urge to be a perfectionist?

“Well, it’s hard to be a fan of your own work (I’m not a fan of my writing). You’ll always see how far it was from what you had in mind when you sat down to write. (The only thing that seems to fix that is time. But time still won’t make you a fan of what you’ve written, and when it does — when you find yourself laughing at a joke you’ve forgotten that you wrote a long time ago — it normally just makes you worry that you used to have it but you probably don’t any more.)

If people you trust say they like it, they probably like it, but that doesn’t make you respect them any the more or like the story. (It’s one reason that editors buying stories is so important for beginning writers. Anyone can say they like it, but sending a cheque and then printing the story — that’s love.)

 Also, once it’s written, the writer is just one more person with an opinion about the work. It’s certainly an informed opinion, but that doesn’t make your opinion more right than anyone else’s, I’m afraid, whether they like it or they don’t.

 It’s best make art and not to worry. I’ll take the satisfaction of having built something that did what I hoped it would do over being in love with my own voice any day. It’s safer. Make good art that says sort of what you set out to say and then, when it’s good enough for jazz, go on to the next thing.“
(Jan. 16 ‘05, http://journal.neilgaiman.com)

When asked, how do you know when a book is done?

“How do you know when your book is done? Hmm. I forget who it was that said that art is never finished, only abandoned, and that’s true up to a point. I’m never satisfied, but normally there’s a point that feels like you’ve reached the end of a story, that the journey begun is now over, and another point, somewhat later, where you feel like something’s been fixed and changed and polished as much as it’s going to be fixed and changed and polished — not that nothing more can be done with it but that any more changes are going to make little difference to the end result and might just make it worse.

“It’s good enough for jazz,” I think. And besides, by that point I’m normally getting much more interested in the next project, which is another indication that the last one is probably done.

(Right now I’m at the point where I’m suddenly embarrassed that I sent the zeroth draft to anybody, wish that no-one had read it, and am really looking forward to trying to get the first draft done — my deadline is April the 1st, which seems very appropriate for this book. Mostly at this point it’s a matter of writing about six or seven more scenes, and making a few things clearer, polishing a couple of themes until they shine.)”
(March 9 ‘05, http://journal.neilgaiman.com)

Then again, some of us start getting interested in the next project when we’re still on the first chapter of the first project, and end up (like me) with three or four novels on the go instead of one. In which case the advice would probably be, rule #1 is to Finish the Damn Thing. And when that thing is done, Write Something Else. I think “finish the damn thing” should be my morning mantra every day.  Also, “One thing at a time, Kiki.” (Kiki being the ferret in Sluggy who’s always being distracted by shiny things).

Pick a story. Finish it. Move on. Maybe if I put it to music…

I’ll get back to writing and posting shorts and poems at some point, but in the meantime, this is what I’ll be up to for July (a few midsummer resolutions, as it were). Over the next 30 days, I plan to:

That’s on top of our main priority for July, which is to thoroughly de-cruft the basement and garage in anticipation of rennovations starting sometime mid-month. That, and playing my new harp sets as often as humanly possible, to get ready for recording some tracks, and of course the festival in October.  For the goals that are easily measurable, you can follow my progress in the tickers below (or by going to Pet Projects, link at right).  At this rate, by the end of July, I should either be comatose, insane, or filled with a renewed vigour for life (possibly all of the above).  At the very least, there should be at least one cleaner basement, flatter tummy, and closer-to-finished novel out there somewhere.

The first in a series of patchwork poems.  This one is a variation on found poetry.  The lines used in the poems were taken from writings by Hesse, Kafka and H.G. Wells.

I.

Enhaloed now in birds,
how mockingly bright the day seemed
bells borne back and forth
by the drifting of the tide
a film about Palestine in the afternoon.
He spent two days in pursuit of her,
days of impatient happiness
  (one always suspected some ingenuity
  in ambush, behind his lucid frankness);
Vast, indeed, was the change that we beheld.
Were we crazy? We ran through the park
at night, swinging branches;
what might appear when that hazy curtain
was altogether withdrawn?
What evenings, walks, despair
are still before me?
Nothing, nothing.  This is the way
I raise up ghosts before me,
the profounder grew the stillness.

II.

Dim and wonderful is the vision
I have conjured in my mind:
Seven girls, one of them short,
a sweet look, a white rabbit
on her shoulder,
the cat is playing with the goats;
These things are mere abstractions,
remnant of a faith.
That is just where the whole
world has gone wrong:
we are always getting away
from the present moment;
in peacetime, you don’t get anywhere,
in wartime you bleed to death.
Then open yourself
let the human person come forth
breathe in the air and the silence:
My life is only
a hesitation before birth.

  —-

All of the lines in the preceding poems were borrowed from the following works (with some very slight tweaking):

• Narziss and Goldmund by Herman Hesse (all about pursuit of self)
• Franz Kafka’s Diaries (the last few lines are from Kafka; who knew he could be so Zen?)
• The Time Machine & War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells (a secret poet; the very first line is his.  In my memory, the pioneers of science fiction were much more formal and matter-of-fact in their writing style than many writers are today.  But on re-reading, I realized that Wells’ writing was full of unexpected passion and poetry, wonderful lines that shone out in the midst of the grimmest of scenes.)

Thanks to Sweet Talking Guy for the old fashioned cut-and-paste idea. (Once I’d thumbed through books picking out lines and writing them down, I then cut all the lines out with scissors and taped them together to form poetry).