Served by my go-to writing haunt, a tea-and-scones place here in town. Not a traditional Southern delicacy, but aside from my family, caramel is my favorite thing on the planet.
Early in the spring, before the average temperature in our neck of the woods settled at 110F and proceeded to stay put for 86 days, I sat down with my dear husband and took him by the hands.
This always means we're having a Talk of some kind. His trepidation was palpable. "What is it? What's wrong?"
"I've been thinking about something -- something I want to do for myself. I'd love to have you take this journey alongside me, but I understand if you aren't willing, if you want me to do this alone."
It was probably my steady gaze that made him start to panic. I'm sure he was thinking of every conceivable doomsday scenario that fit my criteria -- a day at the spa? a rom-com marathon? writing Star Trek fanfic?
"O-kaaaaay?"
"I'm going to start watching Doctor Who. And I'm pretty sure I'm going to like it. And there are six seasons to catch up on." (Even though the show's been on the air for nigh-on fifty years or so, a girl's gotta draw an arbitrary line somewhere.) "So this is going to happen starting this week."
A shrug. "Okay, sure. Let's watch."
Bless my husband and his indulgence of my geeky whims. Of course, I wouldn't expect less from him. This is the man who introduced me to all things Joss Whedon, whose love for Lord of the Rings and Star Wars matches (he would claim exceeds) my own. He won't cotton to Star Trek, however. Hence my uncertainty about his tolerance for Doctor Who.
So in April, we started watching series one of the 2005 reboot, starring Christopher Eccleston as the Ninth Doctor. A week later, we started watching series two, starring David Tennant as the Tenth Doctor. And it didn't take us long to catch up to real-time (well hello, Matt Smith as Eleven), so now we're waiting on a week-by-week basis for BBCAmerica to broadcast new episodes like the rest of the Whovians.
The word OBSESSED is simply not adequate.
I may or may not currently own all of the seasons on DVD. I may or may not currently own toys and/or action figures that I will not allow my children to touch, because they are Mommy's things, getyourgrubbyhandsoffmysonicscrewdriver thankyouverymuch! I also may or may not currently be trying to haul all of my friends (geek-inclined or no) down the Doctor Who rabbit trail with me. (You know who you are. My apologies. Really.)
But seriously, it's fantastic. You'll love it. Why do you resist? You will be assimilated.
The show is brilliant for a number of reasons, but the Doctor himself is a fascinating study in character development. He's the same man, played by eleven different actors (and written by a legion of different writers over the last fifty years). Each incarnation (called regeneration) of the Doctor has a different personality, different likes and dislikes, different mannerisms and characteristics -- but it's the same man, with the same memories. Basically, everything about his nature changes with his regeneration, but everything nurture stays the same.
The writers also aren't afraid to make the Doctor very alien -- which is exactly what he's supposed to be, since he's not human. He sometimes makes incomprehensible decisions. He acts utterly bizarre. He does things that the viewer probably finds ridiculous or stupid or heartless, but mostly these behaviors line up with his internal, alien logic.
I'll stop blathering, but suffice to say I'd highly recommend the show. Start with series one from 2005, or series two from 2006, or series five from 2010 (these are the points at which the Doctor regenerates, and therefore good spots for jumping-in with the new Doctor and his companions and adventures).
And thanks, fantastic husband of mine, for putting up with my geeky obsessions. You're the best kind of enabler.
Shelley Watters is at it again. She hosted a great contest in April, and now she's got another one going on her blog, with another agent waiting to take a look at your first 250 words! With the chance to win a 10-page critique, and maybe even a full MS request!
If you're anything like me, Dear Reader, you have opinions. Occasionally those opinions are dearly held. And when it comes to sci-fi/fantasy, those opinions are a matter of life and death. Luckily, the internet has come through for us (as it is wont to do). I present: polls of moderate importance to the online sf/f community.
Click to see the gory details.
First up at io9.com, March Movie Madness. Through a steady string of votes, they've narrowed the most popular sf/f movies (among readers of io9, at least) to the Final Round: The Empire Strikes Back vs. Serenity
Y'all. Really now. That would be like choosing which of my children I love most. I don't know that I can bring myself to vote. Because on the Empire hand there's this, and on the Serenity hand there's this. I don't even. I can't choose, y'all. I can't.
Second up, Suvudu.com's fantasy character Cage Match. Last year Rand al'Thor from the Wheel of Time series trounced the competition. The cool thing about Suvudu: it's run by Del Rey Spectra, a big hitter in the publishing world, and they attract the attention of the real creators of the characters in the cage matches, who occasionally pop by to post narratives of how they imagine the contest would go. In the 2010 match, George R.R. Martin and Brandon Sanderson (among others) stopped by to give their own accounts of their characters' victories. So. Freakin'. Cool.
I bid you, Dear Reader, to go forth and exercise your internet-given democratic rights.
ETA2: The contest is on like Red Dawn! Check out Shelley Watter's blog post to see all the entries. Thanks for everyone's thoughts and feedback. It was fun helping others brainstorm about their own pitches, too! What a great, creative contest!
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ETA1: Revised Twitter pitch, thanks to helpful suggestions from other entrants who were kind enough to stop by.
Miss Floret needs a luministe to locate her brother's stolen soul. Her unwitting choice:a rogue in gentleman's clothing w/ties to the thief.
Removing spaces around punctuation isn't cheating, is it? Nope? Oh good. I thought not.
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Shelley Watters is running a cool contest on her blog: pitch your completed novel in 140 characters, and if it's compelling enough, win a manuscript review from Suzie Townsend (see my previous post to witness my shameless gushing over Ms. Townsend).
I present Miss Floret and the Luministe: A Cautionary Tale in 140 words:
Miss Floret needs a luministe to find her brother's soul. Her unwitting choice: a rogue in gentleman's clothing w/ ties to the thief.
Dear Reader, I'm relying on your constructive feedback. Does this ring with you at all? Should it have more pop? If so, any idea what kind of pop it's missing? Please, comment away!
Tip for my writerly Dear Readers: check out Shelley Watter's super-amazing contest. The winner gets a full MS request by Suzie Townsend! (Did I mention that she's on my very short list of ~*Dream Agents*~? I didn't mention that? Well, she is. Big time.) Even the second-place prize, a query critique by Shelley, would be a boost to any of us looking toward publication.
The tricksy part: to enter, we have to produce a persuasive, engaging Twitter-length hook for our completed MS and post it for the world to see on April 1 or 2. For the exact contest guidelines, see Shelley's post. Ms. Townsend will pick the winner from all the entries. (Did I mention ~*Dream Agent*~?!Squee!)
Spread the word! Super-cool writing contest on the near horizon!
And now, I'm off to condense my 130k words to 140 characters. Eep! Check back this Friday to see the finished product.
I am fortunate to have many, many amazing people in my life, both on and off the interwebs. Most of them have blogs that are family and/or writing related. Blogger would crash if I tried to link to them all in one post. Today, I'll restrain myself by only pointing you in the direction of my favorite Writerly Peeps of the Internet, in no particular order.
Published cozy mystery writer Elizabeth S. Craig. I've only had a bit of personal communication with her, but she's phenomenally gracious and helpful. Her twitter is a fount of useful writing-related links, and on her blog she couches writing lessons in sharp stories about her daily life. Although she writes mysteries, which is not my genre, her lessons and links are all-around awesome. (She even linked one of my posts once, when I had just started blogging. I felt kinda famous.) I've discovered a ton of useful writing blogs through her. Great stuff. (ETA: I can't believe I forgot to mention her Writer's Knowledge Database, which is a meta-search for all advice writing-related. Check it out!)
I didn't post my precious crit partner upside down. She did that to herself. I swear.
The delightful Christine T, aka Martinelli Gold. She's one of the critique partners I connected with thanks to a crit partner classifieds experiment on Natalie Whipple's website. She's been helping me whip Miss Floret and the Luministe into even fitter fighting shape. I've had the opportunity to read her WiP and experience the wonder of her creative metaphors. (Unfortunately for you, she isn't published yet. Fortunately for me, I get to read her genius before the masses.) Christine is sweet and helpful, and she regularly posts useful writerly advice on her blog.
Inskplatter raven! Edgar Allen Poe would have a conniption! (Okay, I kinda did too. Because it's gorgeous.)
The divine Miss H, also found via Natalie Whipple's crit partner classifieds. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. One, your simultaneous affinities for all things macabre and Regency-related. Two, your gorgeous website, which makes me drool with envy. Three, your encouragement and commiseration over the pain of writing a first draft. Four, your pointers on overcoming my drafting doldrums, and on showing me my first snowflake. Five, the fact that you spell words all British-y, like "colours" and "travelling" and "programme," and you put up with my Southernisms like "y'all" and "over yonder." Six, your knowledge of practically every period drama ever produced, no matter how melodramatic. Seven, your delightful ink-splatter art (check out her Zazzle store! Buy stuff! Miss H has crazy art skillz! #shameless plug).
On a final, random note: new header! Woohoo! I even made myself a favicon. (What? NO! I was not procrastinating on writing Antebellum!) Speaking of which...
I love the SXSW Festival for a variety of reasons, including the fact that it brings hordes of interesting people into town, but this just increased my love tenfold.
For the record, and for the dozens of indie producers who frequent my blog: I would fork over cash money at the box office to see this made into full-length movie. The very last shot of this "preview" made me squee in delight.
A while back, I forayed into the intimidating world of baking with yeast. As far as forays go, it was successful: the challah was delicious. This led to overconfidence, which led to another foray into experimental bread-baking. A fiasco of a foray, as it turns out.
First, backstory. Hubs and I ate at Fogo de Chao as part of our 10th anniversary celebration. (There's no way I'm old enough to have been married 10 years. I got married when I was 12. I totally, totally did.) The evening was a heavenly overload of red-blooded protein and Brazilian cheese bread. Hubs consumed a metric ton of steak; I scarfed a metric ton of tapioca-parmesan popovers.
A week later, I was still craving Brazilian cheese bread. Cue Google and the wonder of the internets:
"Pao de Queijo"
4 eggs
3/4 cup corn oil
1 1/2 cups whole milk
1 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 cups sour tapioca flour (azedo)
1 cup sweet tapioca flour (doce)
3/4 cup shredded parmesan cheese
Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Combine all ingredients in a large bowl. Mix well until batter is smooth. Lightly grease a 12- or 24-cup mini-muffin pan or small dariole molds. Fill each muffin cup three-quarters full. Bake for 15 minutes or until golden brown. Breads should be crisp on the outside and hollow on the inside, like a popover. Serve warm. Makes 48-60 Puffs.
"Makes 48-60 puffs"? Come to momma, Brazilian cheese deliciousness! I will eat you for first breakfast, second breakfast, elevensies, luncheon, afternoon tea, dinner and supper! (That's a Lord of the Rings joke, lest you think I eat that many meals a day. I'm almost as short as a hobbit, but I promise I don't eat like one.)
In my heady "I-baked-challah" daze, I forgot the sage words of Luke Skywalker. My overconfidence was, indeed, my weakness. Instead of delicious cheese popovers, I ended up with this:
Sad, deflated little cheese craters.
Only one made any effort to pop-over at all.
My cheese popovers have a serious case of the Mondays. From now on, I'll let Fogo de Chao handle the Pao de Queijo, and I'll stick with challah.
I'm buried neck-deep in research for a new book, and I've been pondering the issue of writing as "Other." By that, I mean writing from a social, racial, or economic perspective that is not my own. "Write what you know" is an overused cliche, and one I'm not fond of. Yes, writing about people and things we already understand gives authenticity to what we have to say. But the key to "writing what you know" is to always know more. Research. Learn. Experience. Without stopping.
Writing as Other feels less intimidating behind the veil of fantasy. We write novels set in otherworld locales, full of characters who don't precisely resemble anyone in particular. Fantasical characters can be an amalgamation of traits from a broad range of cultures, races, and countries. We don't have to get every detail correct because, hey, it's fantasy. In the midst of that mentality, if we (as authors) don't put the proper amount of research and thought into our characters and fantasy world, we run the risk of appropriating traits in an exploitative, and perhaps even offensive, manner.
For this next book, I'm writing from the perspective of another race. This scares the hair off my head, to be honest. I'm excited about this story, but I am anxious to get the details as correct as I can. I've been doing an absurd amount of research using firsthand sources. I'm trying to unpack my white privilege. And there's a decent chance, even with all my research and conscientiousness, I'll still get things wrong. But the process of studying, putting pen to paper, making mistakes, and learning from those mistakes, is the heart this creative process known as writing.
Bring on the mistakes and the learning. I'm ready.
(And in the last week, as I've been struggling to articulate my thoughts on the matter, Tor.com put up a great post on "Writing What You Don't Know." So yeah ... what John Sprunk said.)
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