Jake Lake Controls his Span

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Check out this article about Span of Control by Jay Lake. The term refers to the size and shape of the story he can hold in his head at one time, to make it a coherent single entity, esp in first draft form

Me, I don’t have that. Or maybe I should say I don’t use that. I tend to create a situation for the characters to solve, add multiple antagonists, then begin working through the conflicts. I don’t try to hold a part of it in my head as a coherent story idea, because I feel more like I’m riding a wave of whatever goal/setting/resource/conflict is ongoing at the moment.

Eventually, I realize that the story has been running long enough and needs to be wrapped up. All I do then is continue the conflicts, but the conflicts begin to resolve themselves. Sometimes that means it’s time for people to stop surviving the dangers they face. Sometimes it means they need to break down emotionally and surrender. In any event, stuff starts to resolve.

So, everything is outside my span of control, and maybe that’s why I find writing such a painful, laborious process.

Also, I loved Rocket Science.

Well, this post took a while to put together.

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The book trailer shoot for my Twenty Palaces series is still ongoing. A couple weeks back, the good folks at Wyrd posted more set pix and frame grabs from the shoot. Pics behind the cut. Continue reading

I’m what you might call “dismayed” right now

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And a little ticked off, too.

The reason: I’ve been officially bumped down to coach for the whole trip to Seattle. Two nights in a chair with no space to do even rudimentary pain-controlling work on my legs. And this was supposed to be a chance to take a couple of days to myself and finish the submission package for A Key, An Egg, An Unfortunate Remark (aka “The Auntie Mame Files”) for mailing next week. I still plan to work, but in coach I’ll be much less productive, if only because I can’t fucking sleep in a chair without a lot of pain.

Oh Jeez, was that negative? Am I posting negative things on my blog, when so many experts advice me to be all cheerful and upbeat and fascinating?

Well, that’s a load of ass. I’m in for two and a half days of pain and I’m deeply unhappy about it. I’ll deal with it, because I always do. I have Tylenol and an extra book to read, and even the coach seats comes with electrical outlets. I’ll work, and eat sandwiches wrapped in plastic, and I’ll carry a bag of bagels onboard. Or something.

Christ. This is going to suck.

Added later: The Chicago Public Library is completely gorgeous, and they even carry my books. I’m sitting in the “Winter Garden” a big, beautiful room with marble floors, trees and ivy in planters, and a glass ceiling to show the blue, blue sky. It’s very soothing a beautiful.

Now I’m going to head out to get some food, then try again for a roomette.

Added later still: Got one! Actually, I got two rooms, one for the first two-thirds of the trip to Whitefish, Montana (about 9pm on Thursday night), and another, much nicer room from Whitefish all the way into Seattle. They’re calling the nicer room a “Deluxe” and I admit I don’t know what that means. If it’s the next size up from the “roomette” I’ll get my own bathroom and shower.

And I get to eat actual restaurant food instead of plastic-wrapped sandwiches out of the lounge.

Now I’m in the “Metropolitan” waiting room, where people w/ sleeping accommodations wait for their trains. It’s as different from the coach waiting room as a hotel lobby is from waiting area of the county hospital. There are leather chairs, big screen TVs, and a fireplace decorated with lights and stockings (not to mention a live fire).

Swank.

The machine urine is brewing

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In my hotel room, there are two little bottles of water with a cardboard collar around them that says “Refresh” in big letters and “$3.00” in teeny tiny letters. I’ll drink from the tap, thanks.

There was no price tag (I could find) on the coffee machine, so I’m braving the hotel coffee. I just wish it didn’t sound so much like someone pissing into a cup.

Dinner last night was pizza in the lounge, but it made me violently ill back in my room. Can you tell I’m having a good time? In a few moments I’ll check out and catch a cab back to the train station to begin my desperate attempt to keep a room for the last and longest leg of my trip.

If I can, I’m going to check out the city a little bit. I need to restock my reading material and, if they refuse to give me the room I paid for, food supply. There’s a Books-a-Million nearby, which I’ve never been to because it’s a regional chain from outside my region, but they cleverly left their store hours off their website. Well, I’m certainly not going to call them from a hotel phone, for all I know its five bucks just to hear a dial tone. Maybe I’ll try Waldenbooks instead.

But there’s the library (second largest in the world) and an actual deep-dish pizza (which I hope to hold down).

Anyway, it’s time to go. See everyone on the flip side.

Oh, shit. A TV.

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So I’m stuck in Chicago because delays made me miss my train. It’s 6:25 my time. I’m going to go downstairs and get some pizza, but while I’m gone I’m going to ask you: What should I watch on TV tonight?

I have no idea what’s on anymore since I don’t have a TV at home and have no time for Hulu.

Have a favorite show airing tonight? Let me know and I’ll try to watch it.

Note, don’t bother posting to this after about 10pm CST on Tuesday night because by then it will be too late.

Update: Thanks for the suggestions, but I think I’m going to go to bed instead.

Lunch in Chicago

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When I was planning my Christmas trip, I’d had this hopeful idea that I could meet up with Chicago folks for lunch during my layover there. Considering the weather and the seasonal delays in Amtrak service, I’m going to put the kibosh on that idea. Sorry. If I’m lucky I’ll have time to walk around the city a little and maybe even see the library, but that seems so iffy that I’d hate to make any kind of plan for it.

Maybe another time.

I’m not here

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Yesterday was Christmas.

Today is my son’s ninth birthday.

I don’t plan to be online today. Have a great day, everyone.

Randomness for 12/25

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1) Bronte Sisters Power Dolls! Video.

2) Burglar posts a photo of himself w/ stolen loot on his victim’s Facebook page. The cops were notified, but said burglary is such a low priority they wouldn’t bother with the case. Luckily for the victim, his dad writes for the Washington Post.

3) How A Christmas Story should have played out.

4) Rudolph (You Don’t Have To Put On The Red Light) Video.

5) The True Meaning of Christmas at Everything is Terrible. Video.

6) Santa Clause is Coming To Town, recut as a horror movie trailer. Video.

7) Comics writer Bob Haney’s version of Batman Saving Christmas.

My early Christmas present

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In a few weeks, Black Gate #15, which includes my story “Eating Venom”, goes to press. Here’s the artwork that accompanies it (and since you’re online, you get to see it in color–it’ll be B&W in the magazine):

eating venomclr

Cool, huh? It’s by Malcolm McClinton. I’d never have thought to imagine the characters that way which is why I’d be a terrible artist, but I love it! Click the link to see more of his work.

About that story: I sold it over three years ago, so it’s a bit of a time capsule of my writing style and technique. I’ll be interested to reread it when it comes out.

How it came about: Some folks will remember a few years back when Janine Cross’s Touched by Venom came out, there was an online row about the writing style, and the way the style was criticized in an offline gathering.

While all that was going on, I thought There has to be a story idea in this somewhere. Not that I’d read the book in question: all I knew of it was that it’s erotic, boundary-pushing second-world fantasy. But a real writer would be able to generate a story or twelve out of it, right?

Some folks know that I don’t get story ideas easily or often–I’m just not that sort of writer. Still, I was sure there was something worthwhile there, and after a bit of work (and more than one false start) I came up with the idea of a sort of basilisk fugu and wrote “Eating Venom”.

It’s full of my usual obsessions: outright bastards, flagrant lies and manipulation, decent people trapped by honor and expectation, magical elements that are largely backgrounded for human conflicts, screwed-up social/political structures, bitter resentments, and much stabbing with sharp pieces of metal. I’m proud of it.

You guys are reading Black Gate magazine, aren’t you? It’s full of adventure-oriented fantasy of the kind I love.

Anyway, I’m off to have Xmas Eve lunch with my in-laws (and the holidays have me way behind on all my online reading). Best wishes to everyone reading this, whether you celebrate Christmas or not.

F/u to previous post

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Now I want to tell the story of meeting my editor for the first time:

It was San Diego Comic Con, and I was on my first ever panel, which was held in the first few minutes of the first day. I’d never been to SDCC before and had little idea what to expect. Not to mention there was some unusual social interaction there that I didn’t have time to process. So I did my best, but I was a bit of a mess.

Then I looked out into the audience and saw my editor in an aisle seat, watching the panel. I’d already looked her up with Google Images (anything to procrastinate!) and recognized her instantly. Of course, seeing my editor out in the audience made me feel even more confident and calm.

Oh wait. I mean just the opposite.

Anyway, I flubbed a bit and rambled a bit more. I had some buddies in the audience (who had basically held my hand through the travel and badge-acquiring process) but I tried not to look too much at any of them.

Then, after the panel was over, I walked up to her and introduced myself. She lied and said I did well, and I felt kinda awkward.

Then one of my buddies (the one with the hammer) ran up to us and said, in a very loud voice, “Mr. Connolly! Mr. Connolly! Would you sign my girlfriend’s breasts?”

That’s what happened the first time I met my editor.