This is brilliant:
It’s also unavoidable in its implications and of course we as a people will do our best to completely forget about it.
If you can’t see the embed above, you can watch this talk here.
This is brilliant:
It’s also unavoidable in its implications and of course we as a people will do our best to completely forget about it.
If you can’t see the embed above, you can watch this talk here.
1) A big list of fantastic stop motion movies. Whoa.
2) “FIGHT ME” Video. Pretty funny stuff.
3) Elementary school kids explain computers, from 1984. Video.
4) Halloween house lights that will amaze you. Video.
Attention Google users: There’s no medical advice in this post.
I’ve been sleeping on the couch for two nights because I don’t want to keep my wife awake, but tonight I can’t even fall asleep on my own.
What’s more, I find that the extended edition DVDs of Lord of the Rings don’t include the theatrical version. I have to pay extra for both? I’d have been happy to forgo a NZ travelogue and a docu on the movies’ sound design for the theatrical versions, you jerks.
Screw this. I’m just going to work on my new book and to hell with going to sleep. I can pull an all-nighter like I used to do in college, right? Right?
Here’s a sleep-deprived poll about the wip: Secret lake city of the unexpectedly intelligent alligator creatures, yes or no?
1) Author Nicholas Kaufmann liked Circle of Enemies, but wishes Ray could have a happy fun romp in the hay: “This is a truly special series, and exactly the kind of fantasy that appeals to readers like me who involuntarily shudder when fantasy novels open with a map and end with a glossary.”
2) Maria at Bear Mountain Books liked Child of Fire: “It’s edgy and very fast paced, but the characters display enough emotion and humanity to make it a very good read.”
3) Jeremiah at jbullfrog.net thinks that Circle of Enemies is the “Best book in the series yet. Damn you Harry Connolly for making me stay up so late the past few days.”
4) S. C. Green at The Shadowed Quill liked Child of Fire well enough but wanted there to be more explanation of the background: “Even though the book is subtitled a Twenty Palace Novel, by the last page I still have no idea what or who the Twenty Palace Society is. I get their basic function (to a very small degree), but I want more answers to the “why” of everything.”
5) Stewart at The Flying Turtle gave Circle of Enemies an 8.5: “The stakes are more personal in this book as the victims are all Rays former friends, who are well written enough to make you care about them pretty quickly.”
6) Bethany at Word Nerd likes Child of Fire but thought the ghost knife was overused? “Normally, I would say run right out and start reading, but… sigh… the writing is solid, but if you’re looking for a long-term relationship with a series, know that you’re going to be left hanging here.” (As a quick note, I’ve never read anything by Weis/Hickman.)
7) Andrew at Pleasure for the Empire really enjoyed Child of Fire: “I really can’t say enough how awesome this book is.“
Today, Jim Hines blogs about writers being pressured to market themselves through blogging. He’s smart, as usual, but the point applies to many of the things writers are expected to do to market themselves.
For example, I’m not really comfortable going out to groups of strangers. I can sorta do it, but I’m not glib or amusing on the spur of the moment, not with people I don’t know. So I don’t do that.
Does that cost me readers? I don’t think so. Just because some other writer brings in new readers with panel appearances doesn’t mean that I would. In fact, ham-handed marketing drives customers away.
Still, some authors do well with convention appearances, or they have popular blogs (I don’t: average daily traffic on my blog is in the high double digits/low triple digits), or they draw amusing web comics, or they play filk, or they start funny hashtag games on Twitter.
The point is not that writers must do a specific list of things, or even that their websites must meet a bunch of specific requirements. It’s that writers must do what they’re good at while putting aside the things they’re not good at. That’s it.
Because the truth is that the “marketing” that writers do has a very, very small effect on sales. That doesn’t mean readers never pick up a book because of a convention or hashtag joke; obviously, they do. It does mean that the number of readers who do so are incredibly small. Most people still buy books because a) they’ve liked an author’s previous work and b) someone they trust recommended it.
That’s why I tell people “If you like a book, tell your friends.” I’ve typed that in the comments of my blog so often I ought to make a macro or something.
One last point: Donald Maass used to offer his book The Career Novelist for free on his website (it seems only the publisher is offering it as a free pdf) and in the middle 90’s he did a survey of his own authors who were making six-figures a year. What did they do? How did they manage it?
Here’s a brief summary of what he found out about those authors:
They were genre authors: they didn’t even try for mainstream success.
They wrote for ten years before becoming successful: It takes time to build a readership.
They reached six-figure incomes through backlist and subrights sales, not big advances:
They don’t spend a lot of time self-promoting, campaigning for awards, or networking: Not that this is harmful, but they spend their time writing.
They don’t chase the market: It’s always better to do your own thing.
Now, I have no idea if I’m going to ever be that level of success. Probably not. There’s no point in me campaigning for awards, for instance, because no one is going to give me an award for the kind of work I do. Also, writers who succeed may not chase the market, but not chasing the market is no guarantee of success.
And I’m not sure how much that matters to me. I’m writing the books I want to write, and hopefully readers will love them. If they don’t, and if I fail to bring in an audience (as I failed with the Twenty Palaces books) I will at least be failing with my own books.
Of course, that survey is 15 years old now; I wonder how different it would be if it was redone today.
Which just goes to say: Don’t assume you know what is effective marketing for any particular writer. These aren’t soft drinks we’re selling, and we aren’t corporations. We’re creators, and we have to go about things in our own idiosyncratic ways.
3) Infographic political statements on your legal tender.
4) How taxing is it to run in heavy armor?
5) The world’s largest rooftop farm is in New York.
7) The Dungeons and Dragons Coloring Book from 1979. These images are perfectly sized for printing. Just sayin’.
Something annoying: The author of this io9 article about a panel discussion on fantasy highlights a Lev Grossman quote, then goes nowhere with it. Here’s the quote:
“Why does realism matter?”
Simple, isn’t it? and nice.
But it’s true. Why is realistic fiction useful? If I want to understand the horrors of war, the pain of divorce, the disappointment of seeing a business fail, I don’t need to read fiction. There’s non-fiction on that very subject. I could read the real thing not a fake version made up by someone.
So forget about justifying the utility of fantasy. How do people justify the utility of realism?
Let me answer my own question: Because it’s beautiful. Because it’s powerful and affecting and we love it.
And that’s no different from fantasy. We’re comparing best to best, right? We’re not comparing the best examples of one genre to the worst of the other, right?
The best fantasy is powerful, affecting, and beautiful. (Maybe that should be “and/or” because sometimes the powerful and affecting parts are not at all beautiful.) It’s not all that different from other kinds of fiction. Sure, it contains elements that the author made up, but all authors make things up. Novelists aren’t trying to write non-fiction, and I don’t see any reason to force fantasy to justify it’s utility in ways that other genres don’t have to.
“Why does realism matter?” Because we long for it, the same way we do for fantasy.
In unrelated news, I broke the 9K mark on my epic fantasy, and the world is still collapsing around my main characters. In fact, there’s more collapsing to go. Fun! But I’ve already started worrying about how long the book is going to go (which is dumb but I’m a worrier).
The response to my previous post has been tremendous, both on my main blog and on LiveJournal, not to mention Twitter, G+, PMs, email, and Facebook. People have been very kind and enthusiastic about my upcoming works and hopeful for a return to the series.
I’m hopeful and enthusiastic, too. Thank you all for linking to that post, for commenting, and for general awesomeness. Once again I am humbled.
Now I have a bubbling crock pot, a skillet full of onions in the over, a living room that needs to be vacuumed, and a kid that needs to do some math. Plus, there are even more comments on that post that I haven’t responded to yet. (Which is why I’m turning off comments here.)
Thank you all.
INT. GOVERNMENT OFFICE – DAY
DON, a harried-looking middle management type in a wrinkled suit, opens a door.
DON
Come in, quickly.
ALLY hurries into the room. She’s red-eyed and upset, and she’s dressed as though she ran out of the house while cleaning the basement, which she did.
GAVIN, her weedy bookworm husband, slips in behind her.
Don checks that the hallway is empty then shuts the door.
DON
I thought your mother would be here.
ALLY
She’s in Spain. All flights are grounded–
DON
Of course. I’m sorry. It’s crazy out there.
ALLY
Uncle Don, do you know what
happened to my dad?
(Reposting corrected version)
For folks who missed the previous installments of this blog post, I occasionally give away story ideas I will never write. Take whatever you like.
1) A train station built over a cemetery allows ghosts and other living dead to travel far from their usual (limited) haunts.
2) In response to a series of devastatingly powerful storms sent through a mountain pass by an evil wizard lord, a king sends a scout through the pass into enemy territory to find out if an army of pseudo-orcs is massing there, and also to locate the dark lord’s tower so they can stop the storms. But the scout quickly discovers that the storms aren’t supernatural at all, and the pseudo-orcs have been devastated as well. Rather than being relieved by his report, the royals clap him in irons because peace isn’t on their agenda.
3) Two words: “Ghost whale”
4) LARRY TALBOT, WARLORD OF MARS
5) Vampire dirigibles: Lighter than air creatures who ride the winds and float down to earth to seize Victorian-era humans and drink their blood. As long as they stay ahead of the sunrise, they’re safe. Also, they keep a certain mad scientist and plucky orphaned whiz kid trapped at high altitudes, so he can spend his days fashioning giant brass goggles that let the dirigibles see their prey more easily.
6) A puppet realizes its true nature. It can think, but it can’t act on its own–in fact, its actions have been directing its thoughts. Can it break free and think for itself?
7) You know how lycanthropy spreads via biting? Well what if superpowers–including the urge to dress up in costumes and fight/commit crime–were spread through a punch? A man begins fighting crime in a city, punching the odd petty criminal here and there when he had to, not realizing this turns them into supervillains. The supervillains in turn create more heroes and villains by punching (or blasting) other people. Eventually, powers–and that weird comic-book world view–would spread around the world like a zombie virus.