May 082015

Having recently discovered that my far-from-cutting-edge old Android phone can run the Google Docs app with only occasional (5 or 6 an hour) crashes, I’ve begun writing during my commute the last few weeks. It started with some fanfiction I’d begun awhile back and never finished, and led me back to the novel I haven’t touched in a couple of years.

This morning, I was on the Green Line rethinking a scene that wasn’t quite working for me, when the young woman sitting next to me said, “I don’t mean to be reading over your shoulder, but what are you writing?”

My very first thought upon hearing this? Thank all the forgotten Gods this didn’t happen yesterday. Yesterday, I was working on a sex scene.

I told her about my project — because, really, what writer doesn’t like to be asked about her writing? It turns out, she’s a writer, too. Poetry and superhero fiction and comic books. We shared a lovely bit of commiseration about the mid-book slog before she went back to her in-progress SMS conversation.

Nice way to start the day.

Dec 052014

I’ve added a new instance of WordPress to the site: Túfóžan Language.

Túfóžan is one of the languages from the world where most of my (unpublished) fantasy stories are set. It and its website are both still very much under construction — which is why I’m not adding a link to the navigation here yet — but I thought I’d post a sneak peek for anyone interested.

Dec 292011

Over the years that I’ve been reading (and writing) genre fiction, I’ve noticed this annoying tendency of literary fiction readers to look down their noses at genre fiction as shallow and simplistic. And, in retaliation, I’ve watched genre readers accuse literary fiction of being dense and obscure and stuffy. And, I’ll be honest, I’ve been in the latter category more often than not, largely because it annoys the hell out of me that some select genre writers (*cough* Margaret Atwood *cough*) get moved over to the bookstores’ literature shelves and get described as “transcending genre.” Bullpucky. Genre writers who explore the human condition with their stories, who create commentary on sociology or psychology or religion or politics, and/or who write stunningly beautiful prose, are just as plentiful as those in literary. Most of them just get overlooked by people who don’t read “that stuff.”

Anyway, Daniel Abraham has a lovely take on the issue right here: A Private Letter from Genre to Literature.

Jan 302009

My husband’s book has come out, and is apparently doing quite well.

Unfortunately, the Andover Historical Society, where he’s been curator for the past 2-plus years, and for whom he wrote the book, has just laid him off.

Articles in the local paper here and here.

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At Loose Ends

 Posted by at 9:11 am  Life Online, Writing  1 Response »
Jan 182009

I tend to spend significant portions of my weekends on the forums at Absolute Write, but their host has been having server problems for the last couple of days.

Which means that instead of chatting about writing, I might actually have to do some. Oh, noes!

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Mar 072008

The people who live in my head are being very bothersome lately. I have all sorts of plans for them, but they refuse to cooperate. Very frustrating.

Ah, well. At least they’re talking to me.

Most of them.

Yes, that was aimed at you, Lina.

Getting to Know You

 Posted by at 5:11 am  Writing  3 Responses »
Oct 162007

One of the best parts of writing — perhaps THE best part — is suddenly discovering something new about a character that you thought you knew everything about. You’re typing along and it just sort of happens. He does something or says something that you never would have predicted. You look at the page and you say, “Where the hell did that come from?” And you realize that not only is it completely right for him to have done that, it is, in fact, his only real option, considering who he is.

It Goes Both Ways

 Posted by at 8:54 am  Writing  4 Responses »
Jul 042007

I try to make all the characters in my writing into real people, you know, the way you do. Because no one is interested in reading about propped up bits of painted cardboard.

But when you (and by “you” I mean “I”) start delving into the heads of violent antagonists in an attempt at fleshing them out, when you start understanding who they are and why they are the way they are, you start maybe sympathising, just a bit, with their worldview. At least when you’re looking at their world through their eyes.

And you start, maybe, liking them. Just a little. Or more than just a little.

Which can be damned disconcerting, considering the nasty things they do.