I am now posting over on my livejournal. It's much easier for me that way.
In the past ten days or thereabouts I have:
- Sent A SHADE OF YELLOW to Clarkesworld Magazine.
- Sent EMPIRES AND GLASS to the Writers of the Future Contest. I think it's a better story than STATUES,
so hopefully it'll net a better result. What's scary is that by
the time I hear back from them, I will have finished university.
o.O
- For a little while now I've had the vague idea of writing a story
about Samhain/Halloween, where the holiday is a character, but hadn't
quite figured out how to tell it. Naturally, it was when I went
to Starbucks with the intention of getting some uni work done that the
story finally slapped me in the face and demanded to be written.
That was about a week ago. I've since polished it up and sent it
away to Fantasy Magazine. It's only a little story, just over
1,000 words, and is called CHICA, LET ME TELL YOU A STORY.
Yeah, that title could probably be better, but when you read it and
then read the story it does make sense. I think. Also I
couldn't think of anything better.
What particularly interested me, when I was skimming through wikipedia for a history of the holiday, was the idea of Samhain/Halloween as a door for nasty dead/fey creatures to step through, and that became a core part of the story and the character. Trying to write about a person who is also a door was... interesting, but I think it worked. And I am definitely returning to this characters-as-doors thing in the future.
- I found out about 10 days ago that the deadline for Shimmer
magazine's pirate-themed issue had been extended from January 31st to
Februrary 28th. As I hadn't had time by the end of January to
write a story for it, I was rather happy at this news -- and last night
finished the short story for it, ROSEILDA'S TALE.
I'm hoping to submit it by the end of the week, or thereabouts.
It fits into the same world as two of my other short stories, A SHADE OF YELLOW and A FAY OF STEAM. I have a vague idea that I'll collect them all into a novella-length thing at some point.
- The novella-without-a-proper-name, "beth", is coming along in the
background. I haven't written much for it in a few days; the next
part needs a little more time to germinate in my head, I think.
At any rate, it's currently over 10,000 words, and there's potentially
a lot more to go. Once I've figured out the Bone Queen's tale,
that is; the rest of the story will hinge on that.
While basking in the glow of my own writing-productivity makes me feel good, it doesn't really do
much for those source-analyses that need to be done for Thursday's
class. Must stop procrastinating one of these days. (as if)
During a discussion in my Alexander the Great class last Thursday (which is composed of both History and Classics students, of which I am one of the former), one of the history students held up his copies of Arrian and Plutarch and whined, "These things read like novels!"
To which our lovely teacher replied, "Yeah, welcome to ancient history."
Careful it doesn't hit your arse on the way out, idiot no-fun modern-historian.
*hugs ancient history*
I've just finished reading Yume no Hon: The Book of Dreams by Catherynne M Valente. This little novel is about a hermit-woman called Ayako who lives in the shadow of a five-layered pagoda on the side of a mountain, and dreams up other selves and existences.
Yes, this is one of Valente's "weird ones", in the best possible way that a story can be weird. As usual her poetic prose is richly sensual, thick with wonderful images, and the ideas she weaves into the story are just as wonderful -- Oedipus and the sphinx's riddles; quantum physics (which, yes, I can wrap my head around); the fall of Troy and of her village at the same time; a Babylonian creation myth that becomes her own story of creation/reshaping. And more, of course.
I want to know what could have been spun from the lumpy black silk... perhaps I already know.
I shan't share the true beauty of this novel, the line near the end that brought a smile of sadness and happiness to my face -- that lesson is there, waiting, for the interested to learn, and I shan't spoil it. Suffice to say that this is a beautiful, moving tale, one that shall stay with me for a very long time, and I highly recommend it to any reader who (a) was intrigued by my review (obviously; I aim to intrigue), and (b) wants something very different to what they'll find on a high street bookshelf.
Minor point of interest: The book
comes in two cover-colours -- red or blue -- with a small variation in
the texts of each. Mine was actually the blue one, but the
amazon-vox connection only gave me the red one.
My short story THE BEAUTIFUL COLLECTION is now available to read on Crimson Highway webzine.
~ Clickity! ~
It's an odd little story, and very different to anything else I've written. There's a small part of me that wishes something else had been my first published story, something far more typical of what I write, but then the rest of me says, Hell, you gotta start somewhere, and far better to be picky about where you end up. So. I shall be working on where I end up.
In the meantime, check out my first ever published story. It's interesting, I think.
Email back from the Touched by Wonder anthology, to which I subbed A SHADE OF YELLOW:
"After careful review of your work, I have decided to decline. Though you are a talented writer with a gift for startling imagery, I feel the story is not a good fit for the anthology as it is shaping up to be."
Once again with the "this story has its merits, but it's not right for our anthology." Most annoying.
This is my sixth rejection for this story, and I wouldn't be overly surprised if it netted a few more before finally finding a home. Why? When the wonderful Katie of Buns read through it for me, she commented on the fact that there's no particular resolution to the story -- and this is something I'm aware of with no intention to change. To me, the story is a window, both for the character Mari and for the reader; it's a window into a much larger world (of politics etc) that Mari is granted for a few days before it's taken away and her life reverts to normal. That's all there is to the story. The only kind of resolution is that Mari realises she's been used, and her perception of the city's current situation has been changed a little.
So it doesn't particularly surprise me when this story gets a rejection. It's not a standard storytelling format, and I can understand it not working for plenty of editors (or editors feeling it won't work for their readers). But I like it. I really like it. And I have no intention to change it, to give it a resolution, because that would mean making it a completely different story and (a) I like it, and (b) I'm lazy. But mostly it's (a).
Just means I need to accept that it's going to be a particularly tough
story to find a home for. Oh well. All a girl can do is
keep trying!
So I just got told that I need to find a WW1 propaganda poster to print off and bring to my class tomorrow. I ran to google images, and unearthed the following comedy gold:
Oh man. Americans were hilarious back then too!
6,674 /
30,000
(22.2%)
I am loving this story.
I've stopped for the night now, as I've hit a less-interesting point (traversing the rest of the desert where nowt happens, and reaching Fall) that I'm too tired now to figure out how to tell, but the ideas are still swirling in the back of my sleepy mind.
Bizarre-o happenings in China are story-licious. I may work that into "beth", or make it something else. We'll see.
Added: Oh yes, forgot to mention. I got my stitches out today, from my little surgery wounds, and some of stitches had grown into my skin. Which was so much fun when the nurse had to remove them. It was like a joke about changing lightbulbs, only different - How many nurses does it take to remove one of Alex's stiches? 3! Stupid knot had disappeared into my skin, and had to be tugged out with a needle. And two of the other stitches had cut into my skin, leaving two thin lines of scab across the surgery wound.
Actually it hurt less than it sounds - stung, really, and only once badly enough to have me crying out. One of the nurses was distracting me by talking about uni stuff. She was really sweet - called me "Poor darling" and then got really embarrassed at having called me that.
And now I have even more scabs to not pick. *twitch* This ain't easy, y'know.
Finally got my letter back from the Sails and Sorcery anthology, which I'd subbed EMPIRES AND GLASS to:
"An exciting, yet painful tale - it's just not quite a fit for this book."
They're not saying it's a bad story, in fact their reaction (the fact they had one, even, rather than just saying "it doesn't fit") suggests that it's a good story, only that it's not a story they want for the anthology. Which is bloody annoying, though it could be worse.
Not sure where to send it next. I'm thinking the Writers of the Future Contest again, to see if I can do even better this time with a story that, I think, is much tighter and stronger than STATUES, but I've not entirely made up my mind. I suppose my problem with the WotF Contest is that I wouldn't hear back about the story til June, and I'd hate to have it tied up for so long. But at the same time, the gain I could get from doing well in the contest would far outstrip the happy feeling I'd get from having the story appear in a much lesser place much sooner. And really, I do have to be a bit pragmatic about this.
In happier news, I get to read Gilgamesh for my dissertation. Dude. I've wanted to read it for a while, and now I have to read it. Okay, so I don't have to, but as part of my dissertation I'll be considering how Alexander's foray into India fits into a greater ancient tradition of conquest/adventure narratives, and my supervisor mentioned reading Gilgamesh as one of the things in the tradition to compare it to.
So today:
Writerly World = 1, Alex = 0
Rest of the World = 0, Alex = 1
Karma, people. She breathes...
Coming in right at the top of the wtf-randomness-meter: I got appendicitis.
Wednesday evening I started getting killer stomach pains, but thought it would pass. After a couple hours of curling up on my bed, crying, my flatmates told me I should call a doctor. The doctor said I should go to a hospital, said it was probably a stomach bug or something but because of my age they had to rule out appendicitis. I went to the hospital and got given something for stomach problems. It didn't work. The pain subsided briefly, then kicked in like a bitch just as we went to a different hospital for a more thorough check-up. Which featured me staggering past some wards, sobbing from the pain, and the nurse saying "Do you mind not waking up all the other patients?"
Um. In agony here?
I threw up the oral painkillers so they stuck a thingywhatsit in my arm and gave me morphine. Which was sooooooo good. Killed the pain in minutes. Then, after much poking and prodding and the same questions asked over and over, I got to go to a ward and lie down (this at about 5.30am, now Thursday). At about 7am a bunch of doctors came round, said they reckoned it was appendicitis and I'd be put on the emergency op list.
Didn't get the op till 4pm Thursday. Was a bit scary, going under general anaesthetic, and when I woke up apparently I freaked out at having an oxygen mask on or the tubey thing, so my oxygen saturation dropped quite low. But when I'd calmed down I put the mask on, so I was okay. Turned out it was appendicitis (rather than an ovarian cyst, their other consideration). I spent Friday in a different ward, and my parents brought me home to theirs Friday night for several days R&R.
I have three little cuts - I got "keyhole surgery" rather than one big cut. One cut just under my belly button, one further down, and one off to the left.
I still can't quite get over the randomness of this all. One day I'm fine, next day I'm in agony and my appendix is going batshit on me. The surgeon said it hadn't burst or anything, was just inflamed, so it was a clean op and I should be fine. Just gotta take it easy for the next week or so.
Fucking random.
