Yesterday, I asked my agency to accept an offer from a Russian publisher for both Child of Fire and Game of Cages. (Yay!) It was actually bought in an auction between two competitors, so it’s nice to see that interest in my work persists.
I won’t be buying that Bugati anytime soon, but a little extra money will be nice (whenever it arrives). I can’t wait to see the cover!
I realize this is a touchy subject, but this is my blog and sometimes I’m an annoying person.
Occasionally, I’m embarrassed by my genre.
It came up at Cherie Priest’s Boneshaker party[1] while I was talking with Mark Henry. I told him that I didn’t have a good elevator pitch for Child of Fire in part because I’m a little embarrassed to describe it.
He turned his face away from me as though he didn’t want to look at me right then, and I didn’t blame him. I understand people have strong feelings about this and the urge to do a little armchair psychoanalysis can be strong. But I’ll tell you: Writing fantasy is my life’s work and I work really fucking hard. I aspire to create art and entertainment both. In no way would I accept the idea that my love of the genre and my dedication to it is less than serious.
But at the same time I recognize that the genre is pretty damn frivolous. Vampire romances. Supernatural compulsions. Little gremlins with littler swords. Suburban werewolves. Superhero-like wizards. Hell: Superheroes.
I like to describe my work by the tone and the genre (“noirish contemporary fantasy”) not by the character or plot elements. Do I want to explain to my non-genre co-worker that my book is about an ex-car thief turned sorcerer’s helper who has an enchanted sheet of paper in his pocket? Or that they’re supernatural vigilantes?
Hell no. Stripped of the context of the actual story, that sounds deeply dorky. However, I’m more than happy to have them read the book. If I could get people to read the book–or even try the sample chapter–without any further description, I’d be damn happy. Because within the context of the story, those supernatural elements carry weight. They matter, in a way they will never matter during an elevator pitch.
I realize there is a long history of genre writers using pen names because they didn’t want their writing associated with their real lives. I remember well that Marion Zimmer Bradley hated pen names because she thought it evidence that writers were ashamed of their work.
Well I say Carpe humiliatum[2]. Seize the shame. Magic amulets are deeply dorky and utterly non-serious in the real world. Personally, I think recognizing–and addressing–this tension between real-life frivolity and in-story seriousness is a strength of mine.
Okay. I have to go to the dentist now. I’m hoping to have happy foreign rights news for CoF soon. Cross your fingers for me.
[1] Something else from the party that surprised me: Cherie mentioned that the book was printed in brown ink, and I thought: “What? Really?” Sure enough, I’d read nearly 200 pages of squinty text without even noticing they were in color. Would I need someone to tell me the seat of my pants was on fire, too?
[2] You know I’m serious when I break out the pretend Latin. Besides, it’s been 30 years since I took a Latin class; I couldn’t work out the correct form of verecundia for cash money.
I have lived in Seattle for 20 years.
And I don’t mind. Actually, I prefer it, even with email newsletters I’ve been receiving for a long time, like the Del Rey Internet Newsletter.
But here’s the funny thing: The latest issue of the DRIN has the announcement of all the Del Rey books that made PW’s Best of 2009 list (yeah, I know–I’ll stop talking about it eventually) but because I have Thunderbird set not to load those remote images, I saw the alt text instead. Here’s a screen cap.
If you click on the image, you’ll see a larger version. Essentially, there are three novels listed there. the alt text for Daryl Gregory’s The Devil’s Alphabet is “The Devil’s Alphabet.” The alt text for China Mieville’s The City & The City is “A Prayer for Owen Meaney” (!). And right beside that, where the cover for Child of Fire should have been, it read “Last Night in Twisted River.” (!)
Now, I’d be happy to have John Irving’s Amazon.com sales ranking, but I’m sure not likely to have written a book like his.
I don’t have a point about this. I imagine Random House has a form different imprints use when they compose these things, and it doesn’t bother me at all. I was just startled to see it, and since I have a blog I’m sharing it with you.
THE MATRIX if it had been made during the silent film era.
Ah, pies. Sweet wonderful pies.
How much time do you spend each day reading and writing tweets?
More reviews behind the cut. Continue reading
In two linked posts, NY Times Bestselling author Jennifer Crusie posts a NaNoWriMo-riffic rough draft, and two days later posts about her process for analyzing the scene for revision.
Jo Walton and other smart people discuss it here on her LJ. I’m in there talking, too.
Personally, I do something very like this when I have a scene that doesn’t work but I can’t figure out why. I don’t normally think in terms of antagonists and beats, though. I usually examine scenes by the character goals, the resources it needs/introduces, and the work it’s supposed to do.
I hadn’t considered the concept of “frames” before–I think I’m going to steal that one. As for identifying the antagonists, well, in the Twenty Palaces books, pretty much everyone is an antagonist. It’s identifying the non-antagonists that gives me headaches.
No, I’m not talking about my wedding anniversary, although that comes in less than a week. My wedding day is less important than the day my wife and I moved in together. (She still gets a present and a nice card, of course.)
Tomorrow is November 13th and Monday is the 16th. Those two dates represent the day I left Philadelphia (by train) and the day I arrived in Seattle. It’s been twenty years.
I’m trying to think of a way to celebrate. The first thing that comes to mind, obviously, is Philly Cheesesteaks, not that I can find the right rolls, and who’ll cut the chip steak for me? Growing up, there were corner delis within walking distance of my house where I could pick up a pound and a half in 30 minutes. Here we have a supermarket butcher, but I’ve never even spoken to those people.
The event must be marked somehow, but I’m not sure how. As for Monday, I figure I’ll make salmon for dinner and stand out in the rain a while.
A party of sorts, at least. Tonight after work I’ll be heading to 15th Ave Coffee and Tea for Cherie Priest’s BONESHAKER party. Details! I won’t know anyone there, which is usually a red flag for Socialization Fail, but who knows? Maybe this time my internal (conversation) editor will be a mere whisper.
If you live in the Seattle area and like steampunk/zombie/Seattle-apocalypse books, come buy a book and give me a hello. I look like this.
In other news, progress on Man Bites World continues. I really like this book, but this has to be the most ragged first draft I’ve written since well, my previous book. It has a small(er) cast of characters (which will be a huge relief to my agent and editor, I’m sure) and the story is more personal. All good. I just need to freaking finish it and get it out of my life.