Category: Writing

Yes, I realize Proserpina’s name blocks several other links. What do you expect from her?

August 19, 2009 /

I just completed a personal obsession that’s been occupying a few minutes of my time every day for the last several months: every Anacrusis story is now tagged with the names of each character who appears in it, which means you can see a much more accurate cloud of every name I’ve ever used.

The ratio of effort to payoff on this project was not high, but at least I’ve shut up one of my own tiny nagging voices, and brought the site up to this-was-cool-in-2006 standards. It had the side effect of cleaning up all my old crappy markup code from 2003 to 2007, which should help things go smoothly when Dreamhost inevitably decides WordPress is too resource-expensive and makes me downgrade to flat text files.

My posts aren’t showing up on LJ. I don’t know why.

July 16, 2009 /

Which means that a bunch of you haven’t seen the last Proserpina story, or at least the last within the context of Anacrusis. (And indeed won’t see this, since the NFD feed isn’t working either.) At 65 entries over 29 months, it’s the longest continuous series I’ve written, and at 6565 words, one of my longer stories.

It needs to be longer yet–I haven’t come close to answering several of the questions posed in the very first one, much less figured out what happens to Radiane and Elijah. Also the next part is basically Proserpina Down Under, which will be difficult to write until I manage to get to Australia. But none of these things will be going in 101-word boxes.

I hope you’ve enjoyed the story so far, and that you’ll find its next incarnation an improvement.

not falling down: a blog about things I think are stupid

May 8, 2009 /

If it weren’t so dry and poorly punctuated, I would honestly believe that John T. Jones’s Writing 101: Research that Novel was a Story Hacks-like joke. As it is, you can learn more about how not to write from it than all the Story Hacks combined. From a former professor and editor! With a PhD!

“Don’t call your Viking raider, Joe.

Try Eric the Mad or some such.”

I already know what you’re thinking: a book about Joe the Viking raider is immediately more interesting than one about Eric the Mad. But that’s his advice on research? To make up a thing that sounds like what you read once in The Far Side, “or some such?”

“If you met a man in Walgreen wearing a silver body-tight jumpsuit and having antenna sticking out of a gold helmet, you would think: That guy isn’t from here!“

Clearly Dr. Jones and I shop at different Walgreens! Yuk yuk! Also, what the hell does that have to do with writing?

“Each character needs characteristics. You may never mention most of them but you must know them. These are the things that in combination make your character distinct from all other characters in the world. Take Superman for instance or Henry the Eighth.”

That’s such a beautiful non sequitur (and no, I’m not editing out his explanation; that’s the whole paragraph) that I’m tempted to revise my stance on whether this whole thing is pure deadpan humor. I’m also tempted to submit it to the Lyttle Lyttons.

“It’s a good idea to know your subject, your location (setting), and your characters before you start writing the novel. Well, don’t let that stop you. You can fill in the blanks later.”

What. What. That paragraph actually needs clarification to just to reach the level of “meaningless platitude.”

“Just don’t let some bold character take over your book.”

God forbid! You are right, John T. Jones, PhD. After all, when you were writing Revenge on the Mogollon Rim (which seems to be a western and not, in fact, a cent-per-word story from a 1952 issue of Astounding), I’m willing to bet you didn’t let bold characters get in the way. You kept yourself focused on what really matters: absolute verisimilitude with regard to the Mogollon Rim.

This has been Brendan Is Mean About Something on the Internet! I now return to my usual activity of whimpering and typing “how the fuck do I research anything” into Google.

In which I pick on a universally-beloved mute cancer survivor

March 8, 2009 /

This essay presents me with problems, because I agree with its hypothesis, but not its premises or its conclusion, so, er.

I’ve said before that snarky writing is weak writing, after which a conversation with Holly led me to reduce my stance to “snarky writing is comorbid with weak writing.” Ebert and I concur on this. He goes on to state that blogs devoted to pure snark are dumb, and that gasping about the “gayest Oscars ever” because Hugh Jackman sat in Frank Langella’s lap is equally dumb; this is also true.

Then he defends Joaquin Phoenix’s current performance art spectacle as an “accomplishment,” and as “committing himself as an actor.” Sorry, Roger, but acting isn’t art in and of itself, and acting like a bewildered person with nothing to say, without letting other people in on the joke, is no achievement at all. (I have similar problems with Andy Kaufman, but at least he brought a Duchamp-like duplicity to the exercise.)

More essential to his argument is his assertion that the snarkers should leave! Oscar! Alone! Sorry again, but a critic of all people should understand that you don’t get to just declare that it’s not for you. Joaquin Phoenix and the self-righteous pomp of the Oscars deserve no better than snark, because they’re functioning on the same level. Scrape away the ornamentation, and there’s nothing worthwhile underneath.

But that doesn’t mean that snarkery is a noble satirical endeavor. Sumana (via John Hodgman) provides a better argument than Ebert: snark is just “meh” without the benefit of brevity.

On Reading

March 6, 2009 /

I’m reading my first Stephen King book, On Writing. I’m paying perhaps more attention than usual to its prose style as I go, since I am trying to concurrently parse his advice and decide whether he is a writer from whom advice is to be solicited. So far its defining quality is that it’s straightforward: there’s none of the sidelong poetry you get from Atwood and Wolfe or the little inline games you get from Adams and Pratchett. He just writes what he writes, albeit (in blessed concordance with Orwell) free of tired figures of speech.

I determined all this last night in bed. I had intended to knock out a chapter or two, until my eyes got sleepy; when I finally closed the book, I noticed that I had read a hundred pages.

I’m starting to get it, Stephen King fans.

Oh, I didn’t see you there

February 23, 2009 /

I’ve just now noticed that for some reason this story got an enormous, Penny Arcade-level traffic spike through Stumbleupon two weeks ago. (As with the PA bump, visitorship quickly returned to normal.) Was it on the front page or something? Nobody tells me these things!

Nebuchadnezzar

February 12, 2009 /

I still haven’t posted about this, have I?

I was supposed to be in this picture. Last September, I got my acceptance letter to Clarion South 2009, which I’d resolved to attend way back when I was still in London. I leapt about with glee, of course, and then set out saving enough money to defray the cost.

I failed, and in December I withdrew my application.

So there’s that story! Maybe in 2010 I’ll be in a position to reapply; maybe not. I am quite sure that whoever got my spot made good use of it, and I hope the short fiction economy survives long enough for me to read the results.

Three things make a roundup

December 31, 2008 /