A not-so-subtle message

It comes as a bruise to my delicate writerly ego to discover the World Fantasy Convention has dropped my name from the membership rolls printed in both Progress Report no. 3 and the website. Maybe that was a condition of Robin Hobb accepting the GoH gig?

Now Playing: Pink Floyd Piper at the Gates of Dawn

W2K

Completed just over 2,000 words last night on Wetsilver. I'm pretty impressed with that number, but it's another deceptive one. I unexpectedly found several significant passages from an early draft of the material that was not only salvageable, but was pretty darn good at that. The kicker is that I never reached this section of the storyline in my last attempted rewrite from a year ago, so it dated to some time before that. I could tell because certain name and place names hadn't been changed to their current incarnations. But it also shows that my thinking on the story structure today dovetails nicely with what I was thinking then. And I'd completely forgotten about writing any of this. Isn't that bizarre?

"Who," whispered Jachym, "is that?"

Gauthier glanced over, and gave a snort. "Huh. Remember how I said I'd been up all night because of visitors? She's one of them. The important one."

"She's so... so..." Jachym managed.

"Hah. Like she'd beard someone as rat-nasty as you. Take a closer look at what you'd be getting yourself mixed up with, and tell me if you don't have second thoughts."

Jachym started to ask for an explanation, but the woman turned then, glancing back the way she'd come. On her left cheek, a stylized znak dazzled in the sunlight. A wetsilver tattoo.

"Oh. Oh!"

"Damn right. You could probably be killed for what you were thinking just a moment ago," Gauthier said.

Because of the integration of the new material, the chapter's running too long right now. I'll try my hand at editing out a page or so of content tonight, but then... then the fun really begins. I'll have exhausted all my pre-exisiting copy (even though maybe 75 percent of the story this time has been all-new) and anything that comes after is uncharted territory. And that, my friends, is when I fear these 2,000-word nights will become a thing of the past, and I'll have to settle for a mere 150 words or so at a go.

Now Playing: Electric Light Orchestra Balance of Power

A milestone of some significance

On this day in 1996, Lisa and I got married in St. Mary's Catholic Church in Temple, Texas. That's 10 years. I mean, 10 years isn't anything like a Golden Anniversary, but it's still a long time. That's a wee bit intimidating when I think about it. Makes me almost feel like a (shudder) grown-up.

A couple we know also got married on this same day back in '96. They told us they'd been planning their celebrations for six months. Gee, no pressure there, huh? With the girls and the baby, Lisa and I can't swing any major getaway trips, but I think we'll do OK. Tonight we're taking the kids out for dinner, and this weekend grandparents are coming into town to watch the little ones. Lisa and I plan to spend Saturday tubing the Comal River, then head into San Antonio for an evening on the River Walk. Nothing elaborate, but we'll enjoy it.

Now Playing: Electric Light Orchestra Afterglow

Happy Duan Wu Jie!

I don't know how this one snuck up on me, but today's the Chinese Dragon Boat Festival!

Officially on falling on the fifth day of the fifth lunar month, the Dragon Boat Festival is also known as Double Fifth Day. While many stories regarding its origin abound, the most popular and widely accepted version regards Qu Yuan, a minister during the Warring States Period (475 - 221 BC).

And who was this Qu Yuan, and why does he merit such a spiffy holiday held in his honor?

Qu Yuan served as minister to the Zhou Emperor. A wise and articulate man, he was loved by the common people. He did much to fight against the rampant corruption that plagued the court-- thereby earning the envy and fear of other officials. Therefore, when he urged the emperor to avoid conflict with the Qin Kingdom, the officials pressured the Emperor to have him removed from service. In exile, he traveled, taught and wrote for several years. Hearing that the Zhou had been defeated by the Qin, he fell into despair and threw himself into the Milou River. His last poem reads:

Many a heavy sigh I have in my despair,
Grieving that I was born in such an unlucky time.
I yoked a team of jade dragons to a phoenix chariot,
And waited for the wind to come,
to sour up on my journey

As he was so loved by the people, fishermen rushed out in long boats, beating drums to scare the fish away, and throwing zong zi into the water to feed braver fish so that they would not eat Qu Yuan's body.

This probably goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway: Who knew?

Now Playing: Aerosmith Golden Rocks

If Gibberish is my 'platform' I'm in BIG trouble

Via Bill Crider, an interesting article on the vogue marketing phenomenon sweeping publishing known as "The Platform":

“In almost any conversation around any book, the thing publishers are trying to suss out, in addition to content, is platform,” said Todd Shuster of the Zachary Shuster Harmsworth literary agency. “The first thing that matters is the content, but after that—the conventional wisdom is that word of mouth will make it successful in the marketplace. Competing as No. 1 publicity marketing criterion for publishers these days are platform and prior sales.”

An author’s disappointing prior sales can be a book deal’s undoing. The sense with a platform, however, is that at least the author has some built-in readership—a “community” to which he or she can peddle the book (writ large: Oprah Winfrey, platform incarnate; writ small: bloggers selling novels). Then, at least, “you don’t have to work so hard,” said one publishing executive who requested anonymity. “That’s the problem in publishing these days—trying to get anybody to pay attention. If you’ve got a platform, at least those people will pay attention.”

I've always known I'd have to play the role of publicity whore to have any hope of a successful writing career, and I got to test the waters with my Voices of Vision signings. I always introduced myself to the bookstore personnel as "your dancing monkey for the evening." Steady publicity, appearances and blogging were going to be the thing that gave me an edge in the marketplace, but now it looks as if I'll need those in order to merely tread water.

Now Playing: Aerosmith Permanent Vacation

Tuesday writing

I did not do any work on the novel last night. Instead, I revisited "Y.V. 7650.1," a short story that's had a long and difficult evolution, finishing up a much-needed edit I'd been putting off for months. Then I sent it on its merry way to Jetse over at Interzone. It's as unpleasant a piece as I've ever done, with more graphic violence and sex than anything other story I've written. I actually got the idea for it way back in college, when it would've made a pretty dramatic statement, not to mention an original one. But the intervening years have quietly stolen some of its thunder. It's taken me close to 15 years and no fewer than four very different takes on the material to even come close to readability, because my writing skills were woefully overmatched by this one. And even now I'm not convinced it works on any level. But hey, that's what the editors are there for, right?

Well, that's enough of an interlude. Tonight, it's back to Wetsilver.

Now Playing: Aerosmith Just Push Play

Da Vinci post-mortem

Lisa and I went to see The Da Vinci Code Sunday, and were amused greatly by the priest telling the parishoners during mass that no good Catholic should ever, ever see The Da Vinci Code or read the book. I told Lisa I should be so lucky to have the Catholic Church denounce my book--I'd rocket right up the bestseller lists. Lisa promised to write irate letters to the Archbishop when my novel comes out, so that made me feel better.

As for the movie itself, eh. Apart from some truly abyssmal history--and I don't know if I can blame that on the book or the filmmakers--it was generally an entertaining conspiracy thriller. Except for the final 30 minutes or so. Geeze Louise, but was that thing ever going to end? "Yeah, yeah, yeah, we get it: Tom Hanks' investigating partner just happens to be the last living descendent of Christ. Roll credits already!"

Personally, I think any religion that is so fragile as to be seriously threatened by a film/book such as this doesn't deserve to exist. And people so dumb as to be taken in by a film/book such as this don't deserve to exist, either. So by my scorecard, it's a wash.

Now Playing: Jerry Jeff Walker Viva Terlingua!