Victorian Book Report: The Great Stink of London, by Stephen Halliday

The title of this book is a bit of a misnomer. While it does indeed report on the Great Stink of London — the summer of 1858, when the sanitary condition of the Thames got so bad that Parliament almost had to flee the stench — it’s more properly an overview of the great engineering works of Joseph Bazalgette. These include road improvements, bridge improvements, new parks, three river embankments, and (of course) the sewer system that saved London from cholera and is still in use today.

So, y’know. If for some reason you need to know about the history of London’s sewer arrangements, and the political squabbling that surrounded their replacement with a better system, then this is a useful book. But I imagine that audience is rather small. ๐Ÿ™‚

As is the book — only 191 pages, some of them heavily taken up by illustrations. It’s an overview, not a hugely in-depth study. It also suffers a little bit from repetition, as certain details crop up again and again; Halliday has a particular tic that annoyed me, which is his tendency to put an epigraph at the beginning of the chapter, and then re-quote it in its entirety elsewhere in the chapter, rather than just referring back. In most cases this was not remotely necessary, and contributed to the feeling that he was on occasion hitting me over the head.

But it is the book I needed it to be, namely, an orienting resource on one of the big upheavals that will have affected my characters prior to the beginning of the novel. Now I just need to find, or badger someone at Thames Water into giving me, a set of plans detailing the layout of all tunnels in the area of the City, and I’ll be more or less set.

Signal Boost: want to commission some art?

I’ve mentioned Avery Liell-Kok before; she’s the artist who did (among other things) this portrait of Invidiana, this painting for my game Memento, and the webcomic My Name Is Might Have Been.

She’s just launched a new website, and is actively seeking commissions. If you’ve always wanted a sketch or painting of something from one of your books (or works in progress), or a game, or something else entirely, drop her a line.

bloody paywalls

I would have to pay nine dollars for one day of access to the archives of The Times.

So yeah, that plan I had, of looking up the remainder of an interesting quote that might even have provided me with a title? Not happening. Not for nine dollars and a dubious return on my investment.

The grin I had when I realized the newspaper’s archives were online has quite gone away.

Victorian Book Report: Cockney Past and Present, by William Matthews

This book is a freaking gold mine.

It would be worth the purchase just for Chapter VI, “Pronunciation and Grammar.” Because this chapter lays out, very efficiently, all the characteristic quirks of Cockney speech, both in terms of how the words sound and how they are used. Here you will get statements such as “The raised pronunciation of short a, which resembles the ordinary sound of short e, has always been a feature of the dialect” and “The Cockney […] inclines toward the accusative rather than the nominative form of personal pronouns.” Followed by illustrative examples, often drawn from representative texts. If you want to know how to write Cockney dialogue, memorize this chapter.

(And then ignore the first half of it. I’m a firm believer in the axiom that you’re better off mimicking the speech patterns of a dialect, i.e. its word choice and grammar, than phonetically representing its pronunciation. The latter is just too damn hard to read.)

Of course, there’s more to the book than just Chapter VI. It also has Chapter V! Which is entitled “Mannerisms and Slang.” I haven’t read this one in great detail yet, and really, if you want slang (even period slang) there are other books that will give it to you in greater depth. More to the point, Chapters, I-III are a history of the dialect, reconstructed (to the extent that it can be) from period documents. These are a bit dry to get through, because it’s a lot of Matthews saying “this play shows some of the characteristics of Cockney” and then quoting a brief scene at you. But it serves two important purposes: first, it helps in tracking what features were early or late, and second, it establishes the basis for the claims given later. It’s truly amazing what we can figure out from written texts, even (or rather, especially) through the thicket of auricular spelling — which is to say, spelling a word how it sounds to you. If a particular vowel replacement or such shows up frequently in London texts (like diaries and parish records), and also in similar texts from outside the city, then it’s probably a period thing rather than a dialect one; but if it’s found primarily in London, and not elsewhere, then you’ve started to catch a whisper from the Cockneys of the past.

Which is the other interesting thing this book provides. I had heard before, but not seen it demonstrated, just where Cockney pronunciation came from. In short, it seems to have been the dialect of London and environs — a regional thing, rather than a class one. But a shift happened a couple of centuries ago; I’ve heard it said, but not read Matthews thoroughly enough to know if it’s in here, that wealthy families from the midlands moved into the city, at least for part of the year, and brought their pronunciation with them. Anyway, certain phonetic characteristics went from being something you’d hear out of the mouth of the Lord Mayor in Elizabeth’s day, to something you’d sneer at a costermonger for in Victoria’s.

(So yes, I have contemplated the spectacle of making all the fine lords and ladies of the Onyx Court speak like Cockneys, because they’ve been there for hundreds of years. But I figure they would have handled changing standards of speech the same way they have standards of dress, which is to say they copy what they like. Only the lower-class fae are likely to drop their aitches.)

Anyway, I see why Jerry White’s London in the Nineteenth Century cited this book as being the best work on Cockney speech out there. I’m sure there are ways to improve on it, but seventy-two years on, it’s still exactly what I need. If you ever need to write a Cockney into a story, try to find a copy of this book.

Update on the gimpy feet

So we’ve finished two weeks in the boot; two left to go. My biggest problem at this point is cramping: my right calf is incredibly tight, and my foot isn’t much happier. But I took my foot out of the boot this morning and rolled it over a little spiked rubber ball to massage my arch (being very careful to keep my ankle in position), which helped, and I’ve been stretching the calf as much as I can with toe-touches.

Every so often it gets cranky on me, just kind of aching for whatever reason, but mostly we’re doing okay. Not taking painkillers anymore — haven’t been for about a week — and I’m sleeping better at last.

Which gives me some hope I’ll stop PTFO’ing four afternoons out of five, for two hours at a stretch. kurayami_hime insists this is just surgical recovery in action; she blames a combination of anaesthesia working its way out of my system, and bodily resources being devoted to the task of healing. But now that I’m actually sleeping eight or nine hours at night, it would be nice if I weren’t also passing out on the couch all the time. This is why I haven’t been more productive on large projects requiring brainpower, like novels or game; I can’t seem to stay conscious long enough to make real progress on them! (I have, however, struck a mighty blow against the Paper Monster that eternally tries to eat my office.)

Having posted this, I’m now going to go downstairs and try to stay awake. Wish me luck . . . .

sort of needed, sort of . . . NOT

“I want to make a map of Driftwood.”

Making Last cough up his wine wasn’t the only reason Tolyat said it, but he had to admit that was part of the appeal.

On the one hand, more Driftwood stories = good, since the most common response to either “Driftwood” or “A Heretic by Degrees” is “You should write more in this setting!” (I’m working on it.)

Also, this appears to be that desperately-needed creature, a lighthearted Driftwood story. Given the inherently nihilistic nature of the setting, if I’m ever going to do a collection (which I would, I confess, like to do someday), then it would be good to leaven it with stories like this, where Last has an actual friend and they do something that’s just fun.

On the other hand . . . I did not need to start a new story right now. Seriously, Brain, we’re trying to clear things OFF the slate here, not add to them!

But this, uh, may be what I’m doing today. Depending on how much the brain decides to cough up. It would be just like it to hand me an opening and then quit, but maybe we can prod it into actually being useful . . . .

Writer’s Block(s)

matociquala posted this today, which reminded me of something I’ve been meaning to say for a while.

I think “writer’s block” is possibly the single most unhelpful idea in the world of writing.

Some people say they don’t believe in writer’s block. Me, I believe in writer’s blockS. In other words, there are many different causes that can produce the effect of Not Writing — and they each have their own particularized solution. If you lump them all under one umbrella term, though, you obscure the differences, painting over them with a mystique that allows you to feel like you’re suffering from something beyond your control (which, not coincidentally, absolves you of the need to do anything about it).

It isn’t beyond your control. But if you don’t really know what your problem is, it’s hard to figure out how to solve it.

My most common problem — since I don’t outline — is that I don’t actually know what should happen next. Or at least I don’t know it in enough detail to be able to put it on the page. Solution? I need to stop and think. I need to review what pieces are on the board, where they’re trying to go, how they might try to get there.

A lot of authors, at one point or another, find themselves with the problem that they’ve taken a wrong turn. The solution to that last conflict was unconvincing, or this subplot doesn’t really fit the story. Solution? Backtrack. Rip some words out, return to the place where you went astray, try again. It hurts, but it hurts less than beating your head against the wall of that error.

Or maybe you don’t want to write because you’re bored with the story. Solution? Un-bore yourself. Pinpoint the cause of your disinterest (character? conflict?), and then send in a man with a gun — by which I mean something that will wake your reader up again. Because if you’re bored, odds are pretty damn high your reader will be, too.

Could be it’s research. You’re about to write the scene where they make their thrilling helicopter escape, and the idea excites you . . . but you don’t actually know anything about flying helicopters. Solution? Do the research, or bracket it and move on and come back later to fill in the details.

In some cases you’re trying to use the wrong process. Somebody convinced you that the One True Way of writing is to do X, and so you’re trying — but your brain is wired for Y instead. Solution? If you can find your process, things will go much easier. Maybe it’s spates of logorrhea separated by days off, rather than the common advice of “write every day.” Maybe it’s taking the time to polish the story in your head first, rather than “vomit it onto the page; you can always fix it later.” Try different things, and see if they work better.

Perhaps you’re coming down with a cold. Solution? Take some medicine, down a bunch of O.J., contemplate whether the influence of drugs and vitamin C is enough to perk you up for work, or whether you’re better off passing out on the couch and coming back tomorrow, once you can breathe through your nose again.

Or it’s a longer-term problem than that: chronic medical issues, or enormous stress from other parts of your life (like grief or moving across the country or day job complications). Solution? Varies from person to person. Maybe it will be better for all involved, you and your story, if you set it aside while you deal with other things. Yes, even if you have a deadline; talk to your editor. Sometimes writing can be a coping mechanism — but sometimes stress really does just drain the juice from your brain, leaving you with nothing. In these cases, beating yourself up with guilt will not help.

Possibly it’s not that anything has gone particularly wrong in your life, but you’ve been mushing on so fast for so long that you’ve burned yourself out. Solution? Figure out what helps refill your mental well, whether that’s taking a vacation or feeding your poor starved brain for a while. And look at your work schedule to see whether you’re asking yourself to do something unsustainable.

Or maybe your problem is that you’d rather play video games or surf the web or whatever. In that case, the solution is to plant your lazy ass in the chair and write.

All of these things can hamper your ability to put words on the page. But if you just call it writer’s block, you don’t know which problem you have, and you don’t know what to do about it. And your attempts to fix it might be counterproductive: if you’ve gone the wrong direction with the story, forcing yourself to sit down and start a new scene will only add to the word-count you’re going to rip out when you realize your mistake.

Having said all that . . . the difficulty lies in telling what your problem really is. I often can’t tell the difference between laziness and “I haven’t thought this through yet” — not until I’ve sat down in the chair and spent at least half an hour trying to make myself do work. By then I’ve usually either overcome my inertia, or figured out that I just wasted half an hour on the wrong solution. But at least I recognize that pattern now, and can try to adapt when I find myself caught in it yet again. Which is more than I could do if I was lying on the couch, one hand stapled to my forehead, saying, “la, woe is me, I suffer from Writer’s Block.”

London volunteer needed

Do you live in London, or close enough that you could make a day trip there without too much inconvenience?

Do you have an aversion to foul smells?

If your answers are respectively “yes” and “no,” then I have a psychotic request to make. One of the things I want to research in London is Bazalgette’s Victorian sewer system. Since his work is still in use, access is limited; my one shot, pretty much, is the “Sewer Week” visit (yes, really) that Thames Water hosts each year. Unfortunately, the tour is on May 18th, which is still inside my four-week physical therapy window after I get out of this boot. In other words, too early for me to go wandering around surface London, let alone its sewers.

So I can’t make it. But maybe you can.

I’m seeking one (1) volunteer who loves me and/or the Onyx Court books well enough to spend the evening of Tuesday, May 18th tramping around the West Ham trunk sewer, taking notes and photographs and questioning the guide on my behalf. If you’re able and willing, e-mail me (marie [dot] brennan [at] gmail [dot] com), and one lucky winner will get to endure dreadful smells in the service of historically accurate writing.

Reward is a signed advance copy of A Star Shall Fall, which I will hand-deliver during the dinner I buy you when I come to London in (probably) June. Or else mail to you, if dinner doesn’t work out.

Feel free to pass this request along to friends who might be able to help, if you yourself can’t (or don’t want to!) do it.

Not sure how long I can keep this up . . . .

. . . but it’s good while it lasts. I’ve spent a couple of weeks now bouncing between more narrative projects than I would have thought possible: the Victorian book, a Sekrit Projekt I can’t talk about, “Mad Maudlin” (not done; so close), the revision of “Remembering Light,” and my Scion game. It’s been a pleasant surprise, how much I’ve been able to gear-shift from one to another, but I feel like I’m nearing my limit: the brain can only be flexible for so long. Fortunately, the Sekrit Projekt thing pretty much just needs one more push from me, so if I can knock that and “Remembering Light” off the list I might have enough brainpower for “Mad Maudlin,” and then I’ll be down to two, the Victorian book and the Scion game.

Which is good, because both need a little more attention than I’ve been able to give them. I do want to get moving on another short story once “Mad Maudlin” is done, but I think it’s going to be a new draft of “On the Feast of the Firewife,” which will take less brainpower than a full-blown new story. I’ve figure out what I want to do with it; now it just wants doing.

GOOD morning!

One of the downsides to not writing short stories for a while was that I had nothing to sell to Beneath Ceaseless Skies. Well, now I’ve fixed that: about three minutes after I woke up this morning, I got an e-mail saying they’re buying “And Blow Them at the Moon,” my Onyx Court Gunpowder Plot story.

Which is also, I should mention, a novelette. In the space of the last couple of weeks, I’ve sold both of the novelettes I’ve ever written — not counting that thing I did back in fifth grade, which might be of roughly that length but will never see the light of day. Since there are a lot fewer potential homes for stories nine thousand words long, I’m very pleased to see both of them happily settled. Especially since Onyx Court stories, with their historical context, are probably never going to run short. ๐Ÿ™‚

The only downside is that my list of stories in submission keeps shrinking. For all the right reasons, mind you — but it’s something to try and fix anyway. ๐Ÿ™‚ (Ironically, I’m pretty sure the “revision of short story” mentioned at the end of that post refers to this story, which sold on its first trip out the door.)

a question for those in the romantic know

My understanding of romance subgenres is that Regencies are a separate category from historicals. So not counting those — what time period/place combinations are the most commonly depicted in historical romance novels?

(My money’s on Scottish highlands of whatever period as the runaway winner, but feel free to tell me I’m wrong.)

a few fictive things

First, I’ve been given the go-ahead to announce the sale of my novelette “La Molejera” to Paraspheres 2. Yay!

Second, I neglected to mention the other week that Newton Compton will be publishing Warror and Witch in Italian. Also yay!

Third, and unrelated to my own writing, Janni Lee Simner is running a really cool contest for her upcoming book Thief Eyes, based on the Icelandic Njal’s Saga. I thought it was nifty enough to demand a signal boost. ๐Ÿ™‚ Janni read part of this at World Fantasy, and it sounds like it will be a great book.

Help Me, Victorianists — update

For those who may have missed it over the weekend, I’m offering a prize to the person who helps me find a title for the Victorian book. If you know nineteenth-century British lit, please take a look at that post for details on what I’m after.

A few clarifications, to help refine the hunt:

1) Although “should include a verb” is #3 on the list of priorities, it’s a pretty big #3; that’s pretty much the single unifying characteristic of the series titles so far, as seen from the shopper’s point of view (i.e. before they read the book and find out where it came from). I want something where a person who’s maybe read the other books could see the title and think, “Is that a new Onyx Court book?” So I’m pretty seriously committed to maintaining this pattern unless I absolutely can’t.

2) Please do quote the passage your suggested title comes from, rather than just the phrase itself. The reason for this is that I don’t just need a title; I need an epigraph (the quotes that head up the different sections) from which the title will come, and so I’m also judging whether the passage fits the story or not. I’ve already had at least one suggestion where the title-phrase would be perfect . . . except that the passage it comes from isn’t, no matter how hard I try to convince myself otherwise. And it’s easier for me to judge that if I don’t have to hunt for the source of the phrase.

3) Until you see a post saying “Hey guys, I found a title!,” assume I am still taking suggestions. Feel free to keep sending them in.

4) It did occur to me that there’s one other angle which could work for the end of the book, in terms of epigraph subject matter. It’s a bit more of a spoiler than the last post was, though, in that you can begin to guess where I’m going with the story. So I’ll put it behind a cut again, and if you don’t want to be spoiled for the book, you can just ignore what follows.

This is why one suggestion came so close . . . .

Running with the Pack ARC giveaway

Like werewolves? Want an anthology full of ’em? Over at calico_reaction‘s LJ, Ekaterina Sedia, editor of the upcoming Running with the Pack (table of contents here) is giving away an advance copy. This is, for those who are interested, the home of my Fake Werewolf Paper, aka “Comparison of Efficacy Rates for Seven Antipathetics as Employed Against Lycanthropes;” the rest of the contributors include some of the biggest names in the field of People What Grow Fur Under the Full Moon, Comma, Fiction Concerning. Should be a great antho, and this is your chance to snag a copy before anyone else.

Help me find a title — *please*

You may have noticed that I’m still talking about “the Victorian book,” rather than something with an actual name. This is because, while I have prospects for a title, none of them are quite right — none of them click and make me think, yes, I’ve found it. And while I’ve been speed-reading Victorian literature in a search for The Right One, the Victorians were a wordy bunch of bastards, and I can only get through so much on my own.

So. I’m offering up a complete signed set of the Onyx Court series — Midnight Never Come, In Ashes Lie, an advance copy of A Star Shall Fall, and the Victorian book once I have it — to the person who points me at the right title. Suggestions can be posted in the comments here, or e-mailed to marie [dot] brennan [at] gmail [dot] com.

According to the model set by the previous titles, and arranged in generally descending importance, my criteria are:

  1. The title must be a quote from a work of more-or-less period British literature. (The book takes place circa 1884.) Earlier is better than later; the Romantics are fine, but one Kipling poem I found, dating to 1906, is not.
  2. It must be a short but evocative phrase, along the lines of preceding examples.
  3. It should, if at all possible, contain a verb.
  4. Bonus points if the verb is paired with an interesting noun (a la “midnight,” “ashes,” or “star”).
  5. I vaguely feel like it should come from a novel, because novels are such a characteristic 19c form of literature. This is, however, an optional restriction, which I’ll happily ditch if I find a good title from another source.

And one more thing, which is high in importance, but excluded from the list so I can put details behind a cut. If I keep to the previous pattern, the quote from which the title is drawn should be the epigraph for the final section of the novel. I know what kind of sentiment I want that to convey, and I can even give examples of quotes that come very close but haven’t given me a title. If you want to steer clear of even the vaguest spoilers as to where this book is going, though, don’t look behind the cut; just know that quotes which talk about London or cities are in the right vein.

Moving on to the examples . . . .

Signal Boost: Fundraiser for Rape Crisis Centers

Support rape crisis centers and enter to win an Advance Copy of Red Hoodโ€™s Revenge, by Jim C. Hines.

Over the last few years, jimhines has posted again and again about the problem of rape, drawing on both official studies and his own personal experience as a counselor. Now he’s raising money for RAINN and other crisis centers. Details at the link.

Because of Michigan law regarding raffles, you don’t have to donate to enter the contest. But since fundraising is the point of the contest, you can guess which way I encourage you to go.

Early’s better than on time, but on time is better than late.

Dear Brain,

I refused to start official work on this book yesterday, because it just seemed inauspicious, but because also because I still didn’t know why Eleanor was working for the Kitterings. Today I woke up and you handed me the answer. So I guess we can, in fact, get started today, and for that, Brain, I thank you.

Now I don’t suppose you have any ideas about that trouble Dead Rick ought to be in . . . ?

Hopefully,
Your Writer

my problem

Everything I think of that’s plausible enough to be a convincing April Fool’s Day prank is also something I don’t want to joke about. Like, I could tell you I slipped in the shower last night and ripped out the stitches that are holding my ligament in place so I’m headed back to the hospital today for another surgery — but dude, NOT FUNNY. And if I can’t amuse myself with a joke, what’s the point?

I hope you all are having fun fooling each other today, though.

Revisiting the Wheel of Time: The Great Hunt

On the assumption that I would be halfway out of my tree on Vicodin, I decided to spend this past weekend reading The Great Hunt, as part of my revisiting the Wheel of Time project.

In retrospect, I find it ironic that this is the book which got me interested in the series (after I’d bounced off the first volume), because I don’t think it’s nearly as well-executed. But I can spot the things that probably hooked me, and despite me remembering this as the Book of God I Hate Mat, he isn’t nearly as prominent in the story as I thought. So anyway, onward to the analysis, starting with some thoughts on how and why the series started to grow so large.

(Kind of like this post . . . .)

Trilogy, my functioning left foot.

a question for the crowd

The urban fantasy community has been reviving itself lately. My contribution to the new burst of activity: I’m soliciting titles of UF novels that break the usual protagonist mold of white, hetero, middle-to-upper-class, Christian (or pagan), and/or able-bodied. So if you’re aware of any urban fantasy with a Jewish hero or a blind heroine or whatever, head on over to that post and let me know what it is, and what you thought of it. (Comments disabled here to keep the discussion centralized in one place. You don’t need to be a community member to respond there.)