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During the first week of October, a bunch of writers I didn’t know and I got together with a bunch of pro writers who thought we could amount to something in the publishing world of SF/F. These nice people gathered us all together and fired us all up. They gave us the ability to believe in ourselves and yawp barbarically. And we went home, and we were pretty fired up. And we thought our real estate had gone up.

Then, we settled back into our usual lives. We worked and wore ourselves out. We nursed sick children. We allowed ourselves to get distracted. Even though we had more faith in ourselves, and were more fired up about our writing, we discovered that the worlds we returned to were more or less the same as the ones we left. We had to keep working in them. I think most of us are still writing, and some of us have had some strong success. However, it’s hard to keep believing, because writers are crazy like that.

I don’t mean to be disparaging. I’m still writing, as are many of you, whether you went to the workshop or not. But it’s a hard old slog alone, isn’t it?

Some of you are blessed with other artists you stay in touch with, who fire you up about your work, and make you excited to do it. Others of you, like me, are kind of isolated out there doing your thing. It tends to cool your yawp down considerably.

I like having an audience. I like having critique. I also make the choice to write rather than do a face-to-face group, because my time is slim. I know that if I need help, I can contact any number of people for it.

What I miss is that fire in my belly. Being around others who are really fired up about their writing, and are good at it. Hanging out with writers of kind of the same level. Knowing that someone wants my work.

It must be similar for many writers out there. All the computing helps, but I guess what I need is revival.

I’ll see some of my writer friends in May at Wiscon, and others in July at Readercon. What do I do in the mean time?

How do you guys keep yourselves excited, rather than disparaged, as you work your way to super stardom? Because depression and discouragement both aren’t sexy.

Maybe we need to have some sort of midwinter writer get together? I’ll think on it.

Catherine

Bryon gave me Tim Gunn: A Guide to Quality, Taste, and Style as an early present, and it’s a great book. It’s also a book that isn’t about writing that really is about writing. For example, from page 16

“Make it work!” is an enormously useful expression. I remember the first time I used it. It was roughly six years ago in one of my classes at Parsons. I find that often students who struggle with an assignment are inclined to abandon the struggle and begin again. This practice unnerves me, because it’s like playing roulette with one’s work. What assurance does one have that the next spin of the wheel will be successful? Important learning occurs when a struggle is examined and analyzed, diagnosed, and a prescription offered. Ergo, make it work. I believe that we all benefit from the make-it-work practice.

I can see the implications for writing.

You rock my world, Tim.

Catherine

I’ve strapped myself into the pilot’s seat, and I’m flying the plane of the novel right to its destination.

You’d be surprised how you don’t have creative energy after working all day and then writing most of the night, to come up with something all meta and insightful to say about the life of a writer.

Or maybe you wouldn’t.

Day job writer (me) usually can manage to write about two hours at night before that’s it, and she feels like her brain is full of virgin polyester (why yes, I *do* know quilters!).

Is the difference between a freelance and a day job writer that you have more of those two hour increments during the day, and you can get in, say, three writing sessions? Or do we work about the same speed?

And if a tree falls in the forest, and a publicist isn’t around to report on it, does it really make a sound?

Those of you who write for more than two hours at a time, tell me, how did you build up those big writer muscles?

Inchoate and incoherent,

Catherine

Some of you may remember during Draupadi’s shame that since Duhsasana had tried to undress Draupadi, Bhima swore that he would drink his blood.

In the giant battle, Bhima’s son is killed. Bhima manages to hunt down Duhsasana and rip his chest open and drink his blood. If Arjuna’s attacking of Karna was out of line with the etiquette of war, this act was truly out there. Draupadi finishes up the whole incident by washing her long hair in Duhsasana’s blood. Yup. Nice.

After this, the Pandavas pretty much take the day. Duryodhana retreats and hides under a frozen lake (he can create ice and breathe water–who knew?) However ,the Pandavas coax him out. They break his legs and leave him for dead.

A couple of the Kaurava warriors come, see Duryodhana, and decide to avenge him. Pretty much the Pandava camp is wiped out. Everyone from the parent generation is sent into the burning woods. The Pandavas themselves win because they are the last group standing, and they have Krishna’s blessing.

Yudhisthira, however, decides this has all been a waste, and the Pandavas wander back into exile.

Last: A word on the afterlife.

I am blessed in my life to know many talented people.

One of the things I wanted to do when I visited schools, or signed books for Hulk Hercules was to be able to give out a freebie. Book marks are the usual thing, but I didn’t know how excited kids would be by a bookmark.

What was perfect, I thought, would be a video game token from Morty Moose’s, which serves an important role at a couple of points in the story. Morty’s is the book’s Chucky Cheese, a pizza and whack-a-mole place that the kids go to.

My friend Gerald Dagel is a master at little plastic things. We’ve known each other for years. We discussed the matter when we met up at a convention this summer, and Gerald volunteered to make the token. Morty on one side, Hercules on the other. From there, Bryon and our friend Aric Stewart would make molds, and we would create the little guys from plastic.

I’m excited to share pictures of the front and back of the Morty Moose token/Hercules coin with you today. The book’s out in January, and you can order it on your own, but you’ll need to talk to me about getting the coin. We can make that happen. I’ll always have a fistful for signings as well. Wiscon, for example, you should be able to get them.

Thanks, Gerald, for all your hard work. Your check’s in the mail.

Why yes, the first four chapters are done to my satisfaction. In their glorious entirety. Which is not to say I won’t let y’all help me make them better.

Features of interest?
–Frost trolls remain angsty. They pose like models in Vogue
–Hild gets her first POV scene
–I’ve started every single intertwining plot thread

Tomorrow I’ll return to writing through the threads. I’ve decided not to bake the Widow. I know it’s classic, but classic sometimes is code for cliche. Her ending should be scarier. And costly.

Hope your words are flowing.

Catherine

You know I would never lead you astray about a new author, right? My track record hasn’t been too bad, right?

What you really want right now, just in time for the holidays, is an ARC of the new book A Most Improper Magick.

Well, let’s be honest. I really want an ARC, which is why I’m telling you about it. However, you should visit Stephanie, find out more about Kat and her book, and think about doing the same.

If you like Austen-like books. No, there are no zombies. Nothing is better with zombies. There, I’ve said. it.

Catherine

One thing I did not want to grow up to be was the Midwestern lady who thought that eating at bland buffets was a good idea. I prided myself on my adventurous nature in the realm of culinary endeavor.

And then, I got reflux disease. This weekend, while shopping and socializing, a friend took us to a really good Indian restaurant. Being the considerate friend she is, she asked if I’d be okay. I assured her, I’d be able to find things to eat.

It was a very spicy buffet. Apparently, my sensitivity to whatever it is that triggers my heartburn in Mexican, Indian, and Thai foods was present in full force. It’s going to be a two day, possibly more heartburn bender. Yes, I won’t do that again.

I am that Midwestern woman. It’s time to start carrying covered dishes in my purse for emergencies.

Writing? I spent yesterday in the car. I got nothin’ but Christmas presents. We’ll change that tonight.

Catherine

I’m sure we’ll be seeing lots of resolution posts, like this one from Maggie Stiefvater, which is a good discussion of goals and goal setting.

2009 has been interesting. My writer life took some steps forward this year, what with Viable Paradise and making my baby steps as a published writer.

What about 2010? I expect 2010 will be the year of slow and steady. Since the beginning of November, I’ve been whittling my weight down, slowly and steadily. Lots of reasons to do this, but the biggest for me is my dad’s death from a stroke at 53 (the only complication we share is high cholesterol) and my mom’s type 2 diabetes. Nope, don’t need either of those life clippers. There’s the usual medical litany you hear. Slowly, steadily, I intend to make the right lifestyle choices. And I mean it, damn it. I’m in the zone.

I expect to write every day. Like watching what I eat. In drips and drops there will be books.

Will I be published? Will I have an agent? Will I? I don’t know. The psychological tight rope is goal three.

I’m noticing that artists put on their pants one leg at a time, like everyone else. I just dropped out of this article, and talked to my jewelry-making friend Kim who is having a little motivation trouble right now. I think the over-arching message is that I have to learn to stop stressing myself about my expectations, and remind myself that goals don’t entirely run the show. There’s replenishing the artistic, finding joy in it, and minimizing the stress in other parts of my life to make the artistic possible.

So. A slow and steady year. Not because I don’t have big goals and dreams. But because I want to realize them at a slow and steady pace.

Catherine

Are there writers of fantasy and science fiction that don’t start off as fans of the genre? I’m sure there’s evidence of some writer, somewhere, who doesn’t have a past where flying unicorns/space ships/insert media here has influence them and taught them some love of the genre. It might be hard for us to get interest in speculative literature without being exposed to something speculative to show us what is possible.

For me, it was reading. My father casually left Alice in Wonderland laying around. I read the encyclopedia of folklore and mythology at the local library. I grew up on a steady diet of Emma Peel, Wonder Woman, Batgirl, and Samantha Stevens. Things…mushroomed.

There were three ways in which I found myself embracing the geek, and actively trying to contribute. I tried to write stories like the ones I enjoyed reading. It was a heartbreaking day when I lost my own Lord of the Rings rip-off story, but it was probably a better thing for the entirety of mankind that that ouevre was lost in transit on a TWA plane somewhere. On and off through the years I continued the writing.

Linked in there was a love of role-playing, the old school kind, sitting around a table with dice, but less like a game, and more like a really bad serial. Very fun and self-indulgent, and a great way to spend my college years. Also a good way to meet my future spouse. And practice story-telling skills, however maudlin those efforts were.

In another life, I could have been a costume designer. I worked during my freshman year in theater shop making outfits, and I continued that as I balanced the geek. In 2006 I gained a Costume Guild master class status, and still like the idea of making a costume from time to time. It’s a different kind of creative skill, touching different parts of my mind and replenishing my creativity.

I love the idea of spending more time on my writing and working my way through to publication. It is important to be a professional and to treat my writing career as a business and investment. It is also important to pay tribute to the imagination that brought me here in the first place.

I stay in touch by watching shows, reading comics and books I like, and still designing the odd outfit or two. I game once a month. Strangely enough, that’s where Oliver Toddle came from, the indirect well of inspiration. I remember that writing is play, as well as work.

How do you play? How do you balance the geek?

Catherine