As you know, Bob, Duotrope began charging authors for its service and content as of Jan 1. I chose not to sign up, even though the amount they’re asking is exactly what I voluntarily paid when paying was optional. Why pay when it wasn’t required? I figured it was worth some amount to a whole bunch of people who would find it a financial burden to contribute, so I chipped in more than what I felt was my share in order to hopefully keep it accessible to everyone. Now that the benefit would accrue only to me, the cost is totally not worth it. I’m extremely happy with this decision now that I’ve gone a couple of weeks without Duotrope. I don’t miss the submission tracking–I have a spreadsheet for that anyway, which is pretty epic, since I am an Excel geek courtesy of years of corporate life. I don’t miss the market listings–I have a market list of my own, on which I’ve ranked the various pro markets according to all kinds of personal factors, and so far, I haven’t submitted outside that list except for anthologies, which I usually find out about through word of mouth anyway. I […]
twelve twelve twelve
Revising a story. It’s hard, so I made a playlist. Tori Amos, “Night of Hunters”Matt Mays, “Take It On Faith”Handsome Family, “If the World Should End in Fire”Handsome Furs, “Repatriated”Black Keys, “Sinister Kid”Metric, “Clone”Divine Fits, “Salton Sea” and “For Your Heart” (yes, they get two, they’re that good)Lana Del Rey, “Blue Jeans”Whitehorse, “Peterbilt Coalmine”Cat Power, “Ruin”Joel Plaskett Emergency, “Somewhere Else”Neko Case, “Hold On, Hold On”Patti Smith, “Changing of the Guards”Cyndi Lauper, “True Colours” What do these songs have in common? Well… this story, I guess. It’s all so very subjective. I’m on the second-last scene and I think it needs hot chocolate. […]
“looking beyond the embers of bridges glowing behind us”
Revisiting the ending of SCARS OF KINSHIP, because this book has come close to convincing people to represent it, but not close enough, and I finally figured out the way in which it was a copout. If I were a quicker learner, a brighter mind, a more diligent worker, a more serious introvert… but I am what I am, and I have done what I can. And I think it’s pretty fucking awesome. […]
Lilac season
Scent memories are hard to shake. Every street in my city has a lilac tree. Almost twenty years ago–God, can that be right?–I lived in a house in a hollow beside a railway embankment. The hollow was filled in thick with lilac trees and the scent mingled with the iron smell of the tracks and the dew at dawn. I had a bad time in that house. Every year when the scent comes around again I remember how I lived then. I wrote it into Scars of Kinship, like Alexander McQueen stitching human hair and fingernails into the seams of his garments. I don’t know how it feels to a reader, this half-secret weight. But I knew, when I figured out what this book was about, that it had to take place during lilac season. […]
Set ’em up, knock ’em down
…is the phrase my husband and I use when we’re being extra-productive. You know, those days when you clean the kitchen and take back the empties and get the dry cleaning and pick up cat food and go to the gym and finish a story and send it out and then take a break for lunch. It amuses the hell out of me that I’ve apparently used it on this blog, too, because it was one of the search terms that appeared in my stats this week. Sometimes I write like that: I know what’s got to happen and I pound away at it until it’s done and I’m all full of righteousness. Most of the time, though, I chip and pick and retread. The word counts I post in a day are what most writers post in an hour. I rewrite the same scene four times before moving on to the next, and then I get to the end of the chapter and throw the whole thing away. I don’t think, at this point, that a reader could tell the difference between the things I’ve written in painful little dribbles and the things I’ve written with a firehose. Even […]
In which there is counting
It’s the end of the year, almost. I shouldn’t be writing this post, because there are a few things still to come in before the real year-end, but I find myself at the computer just now with an urge to do it, and I can always update you guys again later, right? EDIT: within 24 hours of the original version of this post, I received both a rejection and an acceptance, which are now included in the data below! Number of new stories published: 1Number of podcasts published: 1Number of stories subbed: 6 (new record!)Rejections: 8New sales to pro markets: 1Reprint sales: 2 (1 podcast, 1 anthology)Fastest response: Clarkesworld (less than 1 day)Slowest response: Tor.com (still pending, subbed in July 2010)Most rejected story: 6 and countingRejections due to closed markets or cancelled publications: 3 (bad luck year in that regard)Milestones: joined SFWA […]
In which I have a new story
It’s tentatively called “The Root of the Root” and it has been in the world for almost an hour now while I dicked around with poetry books until I decided not to call it any of the things I’d been thinking about. It may change again before I call it done. Pretty things: Solveig’s cardigan; a puppy; a whole lot of cats, all of whom are based on actual cats I know (because you can do that with cats, although it’s kind of inappropriate to do it with people) Horrible things: carbonaceous sputum; 24-hour WalMart; sad unused baby shower presents Soundtrack: Olinka’s “Puss in Boots” mixtape; Fleetwood Mac, of all the damned things; Fever Ray Sustenance: Aleve and gunpowder tea. Fetishes: decade-old Lululemon hoodie. I’ve worn it so much that the cuffs have torn. There is nothing else in my closet so comforting. This story is a happy story. It is also a story written by me, so the happy takes a while to kick in. I will look forward to seeing if it sells quicker or slower than my less-happy stories. […]
In which it’s always better on holiday
I saw this destroyer in Boston, on a precious day off following a business trip. I was impressed with how much depth it has below the waterline. You can only see this depth in drydock, or if you’re a good diver. On my return I discovered that two of the magazines to which I’ve submitted are undergoing editorial changes. Catherynne M. Valente is stepping down from Apex, and Ann VanderMeer will no longer be editing Weird Tales. These situations aren’t identical: as far as I can tell, Valente is stepping down to give herself more time to write, which is laudable, while VanderMeer has been let go by Marvin Kaye, who has bought the magazine with the intention of editing it himself. I am not a prolific writer, and when I have something to sell, I want to place it with a market where it’s a really good fit, both for the audience and for the editor. I chose to submit to Apex because I love Valente’s writing, and to Weird Tales because I love VanderMeer’s editorial taste. My good impression of VanderMeer was further borne out by a fantastic note she sent me on my first submission–she didn’t buy […]
Auto Show, clairification style
One of my fellow writers (Nicole, that was you, right?) says my novel is like a low-budget film: the settings are few, small and usually indoor, and the characters keep returning to the same places. In true low-budget film style, one of these settings is a car. When the protagonist is in his car, the scenery going by could be pure stock footage. The car itself, on the other hand, is a vitally important set-piece and I need to be able to describe it accurately and richly. Thus: the Auto Show. At the Auto Show, people let writers in to look at cars that are worth more than houses. The car in the picture is a Bentley Mulsanne. Two nice women let me inside the ropes to take pictures of it! I now know the colour, sheen, specs and even the smell of this car. I cannot share the smell with you here, but as for the rest: I was not, unfortunately, allowed to sit in it. Or touch it. I did discover, incidentally, that the Auto Show staff were uniformly polite and considerate toward those of their patrons who walk with a cane. […]
In which I discuss my career to date
This is my second year of eligibility for the John W. Campbell Award for Best New Writer (awarded to writers who are in the first two years of their careers, dating from their first professional sale). I am fairly unlikely to be nominated, since my career to date has been somewhat sparse. I can, however, hope that eligibility in itself will drive a few more people to read the work of mine that is available online, and maybe remember my name next time they see it (likely in Strange Horizons in spring). I can also goggle at some of the other people who are eligible this year. Rachel Manija Brown, who wrote the wonderful memoir All the Fishes Come Home to Roost. Nicole Kornher-Stace, whose story “The Raccoon’s Daughter” came out a week before mine in Fantasy Magazine and completely overshadowed it, in the best possible way. Amal El-Mohtar, who gave a very lovely and memorable poetry reading while standing on someone’s hotel-room bed at Readercon. Also, my fellow Viable Paradise students. From my year, Tiffani Angus and Christian Klaver. From other years, George Galuschak, Ferrett Steinmetz, and possibly other people I haven’t happened across yet. Obviously the workshop has […]