A Pleasant Surprise

Hi there, been a while. A pretty busy while, as it happens. Done lots of proofreading for friends, a lot more running around and helping/cleaning/tidying for friends (and me), and not nearly enough writing. In fact, after some discussion with a couple of folks, I'm halfway through a blogpost about writer's block.

But that'll have to wait another day or two.

Back in February, my very first post on this blog included a short list of stuff I needed to get done. I actually managed all of them. And Hanith, that very first short story I submitted to the British Fantasy Society journal, has now been accepted for publication.

It'll be a while before it makes it into the wild, but I've had a little contact with the folks who run the journal, and they all seem lovely, so I can't imagine it'll go wrong at this point.

So there we go. Step one, achieved. Step two, get another one (or Dryden) out there.

All cool, yeah, nothing to see here. Totally composed and professional, that's me.

Food for thought

Today I made it to see my lovely aunt, as I mentioned I'd be trying to while down here. We had a great time, talking for probably far too long about a surprisingly wide range of things. She's a bit of a gourmet chef (this is an understatement) so given my tentative inching into that Actual Cooking stuff we ended up talking food for quite a while, and she persuaded me to try some new cheeses and crackers. I seem to be surrounded by people who know what they're doing with food and are eager to take me up on my promise to "try anything once". I don't regret it yet...

Among the food discussion, a couple of books came up - Elizabeth David's works, which sound half cookery book, half food history and exploration of why and how regional dishes came about, due to sources of food and so on. I (as you see) whipped out my ever-present notebook and took down the name, because one area where I am very aware I am lacking in worldbuilding is food. I'm really bad at including meals at all when writing, because I don't know enough about what's available in what sort of climate, at what level of technology and civilisation. And I do rather need to include at least fleeting mention of meals when I write so many important Round The Campfire scenes. But I get lost in clickbait when I try to do vague internet research around that, and end up briefly extremely informed about the spice trails through the Middle East and not very informed at all about pre-potato British cuisine. Or pre-British potato-based cuisine, for a little continental diversity.

Anyway, I have a name and a few titles and hopefully that sort of focused attack will help. In the meantime I'll have to reread Ray Mears and make do for the moment.

Ah, the troublesome life of a writer. Nothing escapes scrutiny, to add depth to the next book.

The best kind of nitpicking

I am dangerous to things I love. The more I love a film, TV show, or book, the closer I'll be looking for flaws. There's lots of reasons for that; it means I can defend it better when someone (if we could all just take one concerted look at my brother at this point, that'd be great) inevitably tells me it's rubbish because this... It also means I get to pry open its narrative ribcage and have a poke around at the little problems inside. In the good old days this meant an awful lot of fanfiction to fix the plotholes and the dodgy characterisation and the glossed-over developments. These days it tends to mean I prod one tiny little aspect that doesn't quite sit right (this female character is irritating because with her background she should clearly have reacted in this way... this scene is great on the action but they should have escaped using this clever method... this male character has completely changed his attitude for plot's sake and obviously this must have happened offscreen to make that work...) and unspool a whole new idea from it. Switch up the setting and the surrounding plot and boom, future project.

That's how Hanith started life in entirety, after all. And it's where a lot of bits and pieces in most everything else came from. I tinker. I try to fix things.

This does mean watching films/TV with me has become, occasionally, a little tiring, I'm sure. If talking is permitted (never with my brother, usually not if I'm watching something for the first time, definitely not if I'm watching something for the first time and am desperately interested in it - this is partly why I try very hard to see everything I want in the cinema, so there's no chatter and missed dialogue if it's all new) then I have a tendency to point out these little flaws and discuss with whoever's watching with me. (Oh dear heavens, the ecosystems in My Little Pony, the briefings in the waiting room of Quantum Leap, the skeevy morality and ethics and potentials of the technology in Dollhouse...) And I have definitely got worse at that after hanging around with far too many people (you know who you are) who do the same, profess not to mind, or actively encourage it.

In totally unrelated news (honest, really... No, I didn't think you were going to fall for that) my friend down here in Cambridge and I watched X-Men: First Class this evening. Oh, my love for X-Men knows no bounds. It's just such a beautiful setup, to enable so much fun and such variety among your characters. I'm sure it had quite some influence on the fantasy world I created with twenty magics. (Really, precisely. I can probably still reel off the list. At some point I will go back to that and rewrite the plot and characters with the benefit of a dozen more years' writing and some nice clear hindsight.) I've always liked that kind of smorgasbord of power. A huge ensemble with different abilities, and the real fun kicks off when you team up unexpected combinations. It's just glorious, and I will forever, eternally, be distraught that I didn't come up with it first.

I do love Marvel for that. The films are doing a grand job of taking lots of different characters with defined skills, and smashing them together in fits of glee and beautifully CGI-ed explorations of how they can bounce off each other. Sometimes literally.

You go, Black Widow, illustrate my point.

That's definitely one thing I try to stick to in my writing - people have different abilities, and they work together in different ways. I am long, long past the days of the single overpowered has-every-skill-and-every-power-available characters. Power down and partner up, my dears. Even Dryden, ridiculously powerful as he is, needs other people to do what they're good at.

Anyway, yes. That's the thread I pulled most happily from X-Men. Power team-ups are just plain fun and there should always be more of them.

So, next time you see me apparently tearing something to pieces over a small flaw, bear in mind it probably means I love said thing to pieces, and am trying to dissect its problem so I can fix it forever. Or at the very least pull out its still beating heart and transplant it into something new and wonderful, to live on in a glorious, beautiful new form, with stitches around the forehead and bolts in the neck and that pure, perfect core hidden safely away inside.

Because I love it. So I will preserve it and pass it on.

Assume the Perpendicular

We'll walk the grounds, of Capability Brown...

Anyway, enough Divine Comedy. The friends I'm helping in Cambridge and I went out today, to Wimpole Estate - which I am just this minute discovering apparently has geocaching spots, gosh darnit. Oh well. There was a kids' Easter Egg Trail, which was amusing and got us to meander around the gardens well enough, before rewarding us with a chocolate egg (since my friend was generous enough to buy the official trail guides, which resulted in prizes). And we went up to the farm area and saw all the cute fluffy little baby things, which they both delighted in, and a couple of absolutely flippin' huge Shire Horses, which I sighed over. Pure research, honest. It's not just that I want a giant horse. Really. Promise.

And of course, as happens everywhere I go (I am not kidding; I have managed this in multiple supermarkets), I found some secondhand books for sale. So naturally I rescued a Ben Aaronovitch and a Harry Turtledove from the tables by the exit.

Wheelchairs, however, do not go entirely happily with pine-needle-and-bark-shaving paths, especially when on a slight but persistent incline. My back is a little twitchy and I am rather tired, so I haven't got anything written or read today and it's definitely past my bedtime while I'm writing this.

Daisy sent me an invite to a game called Storium, though, which looks interesting and still has over three weeks left on the Kickstarter - looks like it's going to be a subscription service, to a certain degree, but so far from my little poke around to get set up and join Daisy, it also looks very tempting... Sort of an odd combination of play-by-post forum roleplays like I used to do constantly, and touches of co-operative board games with cards to play and scenarios to overcome. Plus I noticed a lot of familiar names (I'm spying on far too many authors via Twitter) on the list of people they've got doing some worldbuilding for them. So that's pretty darn cool.

I even got the washing up done.

My brain is tired

In amongst all the cleaning, tidying, washing up, etc etc today, I managed to read the first 100 pages of Ann Leckie's Ancillary Justice, nominee for the Clarke Award in May. I've been seeing a lot about this one here and there, since Orbit decided to pair it with Rachel Aaron/Bach's Paradox trilogy for promotional stuff at one point. Lots of the "If you like that, try this" approach, I seem to recall. And then of course it was nominated for the Clarke Award, and it's an oddball, so it's caught a lot of attention. So I'm going in with that kind of bias, and a handful of non-spoilery reviews.

So far, there's a lot of squabbling going on in my head, between writer-me, reader-me, and LGBT/feminist-conscious-me. Between my many mes, I'm pretty sure I'm arguing both sides and the middle. I foresee another far-too-in-depth-and-yet-no-plot-spoilers sort of half review, half analysis in the future. Sorry about that. But I've got another 286 pages to go, yet. That might all change.

Four of the five other nominees arrived at the library back in York, too, today, which is a little frustrating as they'll only keep them reserved in my name for so long, and I am, naturally, in Cambridge until just after the deadline. I was hoping they'd turn up before I came down here, so I wouldn't lose two weeks of reading/reviewing, but oh well. I'm sure I'll work something out.

Anyway. People other than me tried the mini carrot cakes today and declared them tasty, so I'm quite pleased there. If I can work out cooking time, perhaps I can do a full scale one and distribute the icing more evenly that way, because whoa, these things are loaded with the stuff as it stands now. Not that I'm complaining, you understand.

I also ate spinach today for what I'm pretty sure is the first time ever, and it evidently hasn't poisoned me, so that's a plus too.

Weary traveller

I managed to get almost everything done that I'd had in mind today, and since that included the two-and-a-half hour drive down to Cambridge to help out a friend, that seems good enough. And I'm sort of in the process of arranging a brief visit with my aunt, since it's been far too long since I last saw her.

Not a lot of writing, though - the drive was tiring and time on both ends was mostly occupied with cleaning and tidying and packing. I did listen to the first half of Jeff Wayne's War of the Worlds in the car though, and now clearly need to go back and slip a couple of references to that into Dryden. Very easily done.

Otherwise, sort of stalled and tired and in that stare-at-the-page-and-hope-words-happen sort of state. It's always annoying when that happens, but it's worse when I know what needs to happen next, it's just that fingers and brain can't even seem to form the concept of words, never mind find the right ones to put down. So I'm going to sleep, and try again tomorrow when I have more brainpower and time.

Make my cake and eat it

I finally got round to making those mini carrot cakes I've been meaning to do for a couple of weeks now, today. And oh my, they turned out tasty. They're a bit slapdash and flung together with hope rather than technique, but the cream cheese icing I added (from a different recipe) worked out all right. They taste, in fact, like cafe cake. But minus those pesky chewy walnut bits people keep insisting on ruining good carrot cakes with. And the process of making them has revealed exactly why it is that carrot cake is often my favourite cake, surpassing even chocolate at times. There's cinnamon and dried fruit in the cake mix, and vanilla and cream cheese in the icing. It's like they came up with the perfect cake just for me.

I should probably segue into some deep thoughts about the perfect ingredients in storytelling and how there are some stories I'm always going to like if they have these key four elements in them, but it's late and I am tired after two rounds of washing up and a slight tidying spree to boot, and I have a long journey ahead of me tomorrow.

Really, I should try and figure out some way of writing in the car. It sort of feels like the hours on the road are wasted. As hard as I try to cling to the conversations and plot points I come up with on the way, my brain is always so focused on driving that everything else just slips away by the time I arrive. At best I remember the one key plot twist that made me laugh for twenty miles. I suppose it does filter things down to the really important, memorable bits, though. Better than nothing.