I went to my first World Fantasy Convention last weekend. I’ve been to other conventions — mostly smaller, regional conventions like Penguicon, Windycon, and a one-day stop at WisCon last year. I thought I knew what to expect. Boy was I wrong.
First, the new friends. So many of my friends converged upon Columbus that World Fantasy was, for many of us, our first face-to-face meeting. I met what seemed like half of my rival Clarion class, all but one of the Inkpunks (Wendy, we missed you dearly), and so many others from Facebook, Twitter, and LiveJournal.
November 1st is here and that means NaNoWriMo – National Novel Writing Month. As someone who is a short story writer, I often look at my friends writing the long form with some envy. They have their own month and I don’t want to be left out so I tell myself that I will finally write one of those novel ideas I’ve been noodling on for forever. Just when I think I’ve picked one and made a decision, the weight of my backlog of revisions, rewrites, or markets I want to submit to smacks me like a brick.
I should have known I was in for a rough day when I woke up to rain. Not that rain is unusual, but I’d never seen it rain in Santa Monica before. It was a nice rain, though, the kind that you don’t mind walking to work in. After a weekend spent riding buses and enjoying the company of good friends (not that I’m complaining), I found myself in a deficit of spoons, though.
It’s a good feeling to put the word END after the last paragraph of a manuscript. This story was born week five of Clarion but I couldn’t make it work then. A little bit of time away and with four days of sporadic effort, it’s a story. Rough around the edges like any first draft but I expect those will be caught when I sent it to beta readers later this week.
Project: Sex/magic story, now with more poly love, a plump dominatrix, a Chicago swinger’s club, and one pissed off magician.
New words written: 1,210
Reason for stopping: End of scene
One more scene left before I can make draft, so I’m on target to wrap this up by the end of the weekend. Today’s been upside down thanks to insomnia but I don’t mind the word count. It’ll be nice to get back to regular sleep schedule, though.
One good thing, maybe the only good thing, about being so far removed from friends and family is that there isn’t much social life to speak of. That means on Friday night, after a post-work nap, I made some serious story progress. If all goes according to plan, I’ll make draft on this by the end of the weekend. Next I only need a title.
Project: Tantric sex/magic story, now with more poly love, a plump dominatrix, a Chicago swinger’s club, and one pissed off magician.
This cold/sinus/allergy thing that’s been sneaking its way into my head has finally arrived, triggering a slight fibro flare and a pretty good ear infection to boot. That cut my writing time short tonight and ended with me foggy enough that I left the drug store with cough medicine, not the cough and cold I meant to pick up.
Project: Tantric sex/magic story, now with more poly love, a plump dominatrix, and a Chicago swinger’s club.
I’ve been a little slow getting back into the habit of writing new words since I’ve been back from Clarion. Besides catching up on ye olde day job, I’ve been working on revisions and submissions, organizing my inventory list, and other life issues.
Most of the stories in my backlog are either trunked, needing rewrites, or massive revision. Unfortunate, but them’s the breaks. Not including the current work(s) in progress, there are:
Happy fifth birthday to Hadley Rille Books, who published my first in print story. They publish many fine books and anthologies, so please consider supporting this great small press.
Today is release day for Rigor Amortis, edited by Jaym Gates and Erika Holt, and containing stories by R. Schuyler Devin, Kaolin Imago Fire, Kay T. Holt, John Nakamura Remy, Andrew Penn Romine, Wendy N. Wagner, and many others.
This first of October 2010 also marks the launch of Inkpunks, a group blog by some of the brightest up and coming writers and editors in speculative fiction.
The spam of the day award goes to this gem. I’m not sure the point, but it did make me giggle.
O’Donnell’s Tempest in a Tea Party Pot Groups mount new challenge to Ruby Pipeline plan Helena, repeated several times, was never accepted by Napoleon. She died in 1825 at Florence, from consumption, reconciled to her husband, from whom she had been separated since 1807. She was buried at Sta Maria Maggiore, Rome.