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Still up here. Waaayyyy up here.

So. I’ve been at Taos Toolbox for a week. Let me talk to you a little bit about it.

Caveat: You will always love your first. I don’t necessarily mean your first workshop, because I know a lot of folks have found Clarion or Viable Paradise or any other number of writer’s workshop less than appropriate for their expectations. BUT what you will always love is that space where you first felt like a real writer, like you had a chance, like it wasn’t all some sort of system designed to keep you out, that you were going to be responsible for self-publishing everything you wrote, ad nauseum.

That space for me was Viable Paradise, and no matter how good another experience is, I will never be able to recreate that halcyon experience. It’s a little like a good undergraduate stretch in college. It probably wasn’t as good as you remember it, but it’s okay that you remember it as good as you do. And the people at VP XIII were exceptional people at that time during that week pulling together in that way. That will never come again.

There are people who are experiencing that here RIGHT NOW. Taos Toolbox is, for a few of us, that epiphany. There are a few writers here who have never been in an SF Workshop, so they are sort of bouncing off the walls in a “Really? It’s okay if I write spec fic?” kind of way.

I know that you want to know what I think, however. Because, by God, why the hell else would you be reading Writer Tamago? Indeed. Some of you have been to this workshop, and recommended it to me, so I imagine you especially are curious.

Continue reading “Taos Toolbox: You Will Always Love Your First, But Later You Love in Different Ways”

Here’s another cheater entry: the writing exercise from earlier in this week, all based on what would happen if Spider-Man did stop the criminal who would later kill his Uncle Ben.

With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility

Continue reading “Alternative Tipping Point: Spider-Man”

I’m supposed to be working on a short story, so today you get links. I’ve been saving up a few.

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First, let’s do the light stuff. Courtesy of Nancy Kress, here are some interesting quotes from Day 1 and Day 2 and 3 of Taos Toolbox. I am responsible for the quote about the 18th century heroine. No one is surprised.

Thanks, Nancy.

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Now, some perspectives on Colonialism. I hope these things stimulate your thought process.

Nisi Shawl

My current novel-in-progress, Everfair, is another deliberate confrontation of colonialism: steampunk set in the Belgian Congo. It arose from my dislike of steampunk’s tendency to privilege imperialism, and especially Britain’s Victorian Empire. It also focuses on the site of one of the worst modern human rights atrocities, an infamous episode intimately connected with the rape of natural resources that lies behind the Industrial Revolution.

To ensure representation of the multiplicities of non-dominant difference, I’m writing Everfair from many viewpoints: white and mixed-race Europeans, African-Americans, and indigenous Africans. Research is sometimes exhilarating, and sometimes heartbreakingly piecemeal, particularly in the case of the indigenes, whose histories were severely disrupted—to say the least—by their decimation. Often the only voice left to tell a tale is that of the colonizer.

An essay by Ardha on what cultural appropriation is. I disagree with some of the author’s conclusions, but overall it’s a great explanation.

The problem isn’t that cultures intermingle, it’s the terms on which they do so and the part that plays in the power relations between cultures. The problem isn’t “taking” or “borrowing”, the problem is racism, imperialism, white supremacy, and colonialism. The problem is how elements of culture get taken up in disempowering, unequal ways that deny oppressed people autonomy and dignity. Cultural appropriation only occurs in the context of the domination of one society over another, otherwise known as imperialism. Cultural appropriation is an act of domination, which is distinct from ‘borrowing’, syncretism, hybrid cultures, the cultures of assimilated/integrated populations, and the reappropriation of dominant cultures by oppressed peoples.

And Aliette de Bodard presents the Cultural Imperialism Bingo Card.

All right. Frost elves. See you guys in a couple.

Catherine

Elizabeth Bear was kind enough to share her insights and wit in talking about the writing process. Any interview that quotes Kurt Vonnegut is worth the read. Enjoy.

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Tamago: Do you have a regular drafting process, or does your drafting process vary from book to book? (If it varies, please keep one project in mind as you answer these questions.)

Elizabeth: It does vary.

A couple of things are consistent–when I’m a third of the way done, I have to stop and go back and rejig everything in the first third so it will support the rest of the book. And when I’ve gotten to the buildup to the climax, I always have to go back and find all the dangling plot threads and write them down so I can figure out what happens and in which order.

Tamago: Which part of writing–drafting, revising, critique from others–do you enjoy the most? Why? The least? Why?

Elizabeth: The part I enjoy the most is finishing. Finishing things is good. Delivering them is even better!

But really, all of it is fun. Hard work, sometimes frustrating–but I try to hold on to the knowledge that at the baseline, I get paid to tell people stories. And that’s kind of cool.

Continue reading “The Writing Process and Elizabeth Bear”

Hey everyone. I’m waaaayyyy up here at the ski lodge above Taos. The view outside my room is just like Hikone valley–the spine of a dragon covered by the fur of fir trees. It’s cool, not what you’d expect in June, but what you’d expect from the mountains. And we pretty much are in the middle of no where.

Getting here was a struggle. Delta had changed my flight plans about a month ago, and the night before, they changed my flight plans again. Luckily, Aric and Kim were down visiting, and so I could avoid missing every potential flight to get here in the afternoon by driving up to Minneapolis directly and catching a plane. That was great. If I couldn’t have gotten in until the evening, there would have been a domino effect of travel awfulness. But hey, I am luckier than the Australians, who got in during the wee hours of Monday morning, or Sandra Wickham, whose luggage waited to show up until yesterday evening. I just got up at 3 am, drove 4 hours, caught a flight, arrived in Albuquerque, and drove another 3 hours. Yup. A rockin’ way to spend the old birthday.

I’m 47 now. How’s about that?

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But what you really want to know is how is Taos Toolbox, am I right? The workshop is great so far. Walter James Williams and Nancy Kress really are pretty good at the teaching gig. I’m impressed with the lectures thus far. I mean some of it I’ve heard before, but I took a lot of good things away from class yesterday. I’ve got to put together another piece for next week, so I’ve started thinking about that. I can’t tell you anything about my critique at all yet. I am dead last on Friday. Well. Someone had to be.

As for facilities, I am in the Catherine room (the two Catherines are rooming together. I suppose that’s double the bang for your buck in name calling if you’re someone else). The room is faux-rustic, and it’s a bit run down in some spots. In other ways, (kitchenette, individual rest rooms) it’s great. We aren’t having too much trouble getting something to eat–mostly sandwiches for breakfast and lunch, and a catered in hot meal for supper. Not for the foodie, but maybe Weight Watchers will like me better when I get back. 🙂

I am running into some cluster headache difficulties. I have been hydrating A LOT, and popping pain relievers, and resting when I’m tired, per instructions. But each night thus far, I’ve woken up, dried out like a river bed in drought with a headache behind my right eye. So, I suck down more water, pop more pain relievers, put a cloth over my eye, and wear sunglasses when I can. I hope that this is part of the acclimatization game, and that I won’t be spending the whole workshop with a low level headache. There have been some periods of relief, but mostly, ow.

So. I’ll try to get back to you all as soon as I can. Meanwhile, here’s a post from Elizabeth Bear about her writing process, coming right up.

Catherine

Vacation is so close, but the slippery little devil manages to slither through my fingers until 4 o’clock. So I work. I have started three projects and completed two other projects. So work and I, we’re jakes for now. I mean there are other things I could be doing, but you know, I’m kinda tired. Time for a wee break.

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I guess we’ll call this the pre-Taos post. I received another rejection this morning, this time after making it up to second tier evaluation. The publisher was kind enough to send the comments from the committee that reviewed the work, and they varied. It serves as an underscore to the unevenness of my appeal at this point– a well-divided verdict.

What is the point of where I’m going with this? We-ell, there were a few pieces that I read in getting ready for the critiques I’ll be doing next week. The workshop submissions were certainly varied, and you now, subjective tastes in part color what you think, as do expectations you’ve had about craft. There were some of the entries that you sped through. I read with pen in hand, poised to make a comment, or fingers placed on keyboard, ready to snap something out in a series of clicks. When you find yourself farther along than you thought you’d be in the story, without noticing you got there, I used to call that falling in.

Now that I’m thinking more in terms of being an author, I call it the glide. Maybe a better analogy is the wave. If you’re going to catch the wave, the surf has to be perfect, and you have to hit it a certain way. If you don’t, you get a trip that isn’t what you’d hoped for. If you do, you glide. At the end of the glide, you assess where you were and where you are. But you didn’t do it during the glide, because you were too busy enjoying the glide.

Continue reading “The Glide, the Wave”

I was on two panels at Wiscon myself: Baba Yaga and Other Retired/Secret Goddesses and Newly Professional Older Writers: What Helps, What Hinders.

Of the Baba Yaga Panel: We really had some good participation. One of our audience members turned out to be a Russian scholar who knew a great deal about BY. I handled the academic angle with references to stories and the variants. Will Alexander talked about his thoughts, since he had used BY as a character in a recent book. Georgie Shnobrich told several BY stories. We were all wrangled adeptly by Delia Sherman. I am, alas, not the person to post notes from this panel, as I was on it.

Similarly, of the Newly Older Professional Writers Panel: This was more of a discussion than a panel, which was a good thing. The panelists ranged from insecure about this issue to talk about how they had perhaps a false confidence, since they were used to being competent. Pluses and minuses of the older writer were talked about. On the plus side, we have more experience and have practiced professionalism. Coming to writing later often means our income is more stable as well. Negatively, we can’t party as hard or last as long. David Levine suggested that what older writers need to learn is different from what younger writers in general need to learn. Sure.

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Then, there was the sign out. I enjoyed it immensely. Caroline was kind enough to save me a spot, and lots of people stopped by to chat. I find it very easy to do that kind of thing. The hard part, I suppose, is writing and selling books.

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Thanks to all who made this year’s Wiscon an enjoyable experience. No, Governor Walker does not get kudos.

So…that finishes the two things I’ve been working on before Taos. I think, for the next two weeks, you’ll be getting Taos stuff. See you at 10,000 feet.

And…this is the last of these posts that I’ll be doing for a while, as I wanted to do posts up to the contemporaries of the Black Widow, to illustrate which female Avengers might be good film candidates. That said, given the surprising popularity of the series, maybe if I have time, eventually I will return to the series.

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Please note Ms. Marvel’s name. She is one of the first Marvel characters with a liberated name. In an age of the Invisible Girl or Marvel Girl, Ms. Marvel emerges as a mod character.(Note the two incarnations of her outfit: the oldest on the right, a little damaged, and the newest on the left.)

Her origin is equally progressive. Carol Danvers was a member of the United States Air Force, already a woman with a career. Through an interesting accident, her human DNA was merged with Kree DNA and she gets her super powers. She has a solid super hero career in the 70s, working with the Avengers in several encounters.

Things go south in the 80s. I don’t know if the guys at Marvel just couldn’t handle a strong, together woman, so they essentially had her brainwashed, seduced and impregnated, essentially raped against her will by a character called Marcus. The truly appalling part of this is that all the Avengers characters let her go when she told them this was what she wanted, in spite of its contrariness to past behavior.

Chris Claremont uses Danvers as a plot device. She returns to Earth after Marcus dies of old age and promptly has her powers absorbed by the mutant Rogue. Professor Xavier restores her memories, and Ms. Marvel rebukes the Avengers for their role in her rape.

And then Danvers becomes Binary because of Brood experimentation. Eventually Danvers reverts to her Ms. Marvel powers. She calls herself Warbird for a bit and rejoins the Avengers, but has some issues with alcohol. Hell, I should think so! She goes through a comics phase as an active conservative supporting the Mutant Registration Act. When that all blows over, she returns to the Avengers, and pretty much most of her troubled past is glossed over as Marvel returns her to her strong woman roots.

Ms. Marvel would be an AWESOME addition to the Avengers films. She is an unapologetic strong woman with immense powers and a sense of duty. Not always the most likeable character, she is nevertheless a hero who is consistent in doing the “right thing.” She’d round out the team nicely.

This might be why I like the man so much.

President Obama had this to say about Ray Bradbury’s death:

His gift for storytelling reshaped our culture and expanded our world. For many Americans, the news of Ray Bradbury’s death immediately brought to mind images from his work, imprinted in our minds, often from a young age. His gift for storytelling reshaped our culture and expanded our world. But Ray also understood that our imaginations could be used as a tool for better understanding, a vehicle for change, and an expression of our most cherished values. There is no doubt that Ray will continue to inspire many more generations with his writing, and our thoughts and prayers are with his family and friends.

Among the science fiction and fantasy community, this will be THE post for the next few days. But this one I can not ignore, and so forgive me for posting along with everyone else. It’s one of those occasions where it is appropriate to follow the crowd.

When I was fifteen, The Martian Chronicles mini-series debuted on television. I watched as an interlocked series of fascinating stories embroidered upon the theme of life on Mars. I was stunned at how much each little vignette spoke to human experience.

I hurried to my school library and checked out the book. I found out that the mini-series was a pale shadow of the book, and that the book struck chords and depths in me I didn’t know I had. I remember crying when I read Ylla and The Green Morning.

As a fifteen-year old, I did not have the vocabulary or the breadth of literary study to explain to you what I can easily explain now. How Bradbury, the lyricist, made my hands tremble when I read the poetry of his books. How Something Wicked This Way Comes has dark influences that climbed into my subconscious, took root there, and became something of the Klarions. How I regretted that Charles Halloway was not my father, and how he became the father of my imagination. I watched the movies on the skin of the illustrated man. And Greentown spoke to me of the American experience as surely as Winesburg, Ohio ever did.

The gifts of Bradbury were so many. What is perhaps the greatest tribute is that in the American conscious, he was not only considered a master of genre, which would have been an accomplishment in and of itself, but he was seen on a par with literary mystics like Marquez. He was recognized for what he was–a poet and a seer, a weaver of truths that reached under your skin, a magnifying glass that examined human nature ruthlessly but tenderly. He was a teacher, he was a writer, he was a creator of music.

My soul knew that. I only have to pick up one of his books now to feel that warm tingling of creativity he invokes in me, his words making me want to sway to their rhythm throughout the long slow waltz of my life interacting with his through his words, the music we both heard, on the page.

Good bye. You will never come again. And that makes every treasure you’ve given us even more bittersweet.