I’m supposed to be *finishing* stories, not *starting* them

zellandyne, I have 1,059 words of “The Wives of Paris” and it’s all your fault.

Not sure whose fault it is that I seem to be channeling yuki_onna-lite with this thing, though. It was supposed to be, I don’t know, like “Once a Goddess” or something. Instead I have a semi-bitter, self-aware narrative that’s already referenced Morgan le Fay and Hallgerðr, and narrowly missed having the Queen of Sheba join the party. (Lamia took her place.) It feels bizarrely like my story idea fell into somebody else’s paint can and came out the most unexpected color, not my usual look at all.

But hey. 1,059 words, and I’d probably stay up to write more (it’s almost time for Penthesilea to show up, unless I decide to really embrace the whole culture-mash thing and make it Scáthach instead), but I do have to get up at a reasonable hour tomorrow. So I’ll let this sit, and pray the paint can hasn’t vanished by the time I come back.

narrative space

Using my gaming icon for this post, for reasons that will shortly become obvious, but this is as much about writing as RPGs.

Tonight — presuming none of my players manage to contract ebola or something in the next eight hours — I’ll start running Once Upon a Time in the West, my oh-so-cleverly titled frontier Scion game. This is the second tabletop game I’ve run, with Memento being the first. (No, I don’t expect this one to turn into a novel, much less a series. Then again, I didn’t expect it with Memento, either. But this one will be more heavily based on game materials, so I’d say it’s unlikely.) As a result, I’ve been thinking about games and how I plot them.

I’ll take pity on your flists, since I was wordier than I expected.

research request: the Great Exhibition

Does anybody know of a good book about the Great Exhibition of 1851, and/or the Crystal Palace? (That’s almost twenty years before this novel will take place, but I think I’d like to make use of it in the backstory.)

email outage

If you’re accustomed to contacting me via my personal e-mail address (i.e. NOT the Gmail one), then there will be a delay in my responses. A small-plane crash, of all things, has taken out power to the server in question, and until that issue is resolved, I will be incommunicado.

(This also includes replies to LJ posts or comments, since that’s where my notifications are sent.)

If you really need to get ahold of me asap, marie [dot] brennan [at] gmail [dot] com will still work.

because they’re cluttering up Firefox

I meant to offer these with more commentary, but I don’t think I’m going to get around to it. Two last links on the Amazon vs. Macmillan thing, both from Making Light:

1) An explanation of the “agency model” that Macmillan’s pushing and Amazon’s fighting, in case you’re wondering just what the fight is actually about, and,

2) Teresa Nielsen Hayden’s commentary on a post (which she links) by a music industry executive, talking about what happens when you let retailers start calling the shots in your line of work. Fascinating material in there about what happened to the music industry, and then Teresa relates it to publishing in some very enlightening ways.

Enjoy.

Victorian Book Report: Victorian People and Ideas, Richard D. Altick

The subtitle of this book is, “A companion for the modern reader of Victorian Literature.” If it were either a work of literary criticism, or a work of historical analysis, I’d be more concerned about the fact that it was published in 1973; but as it turns out, it’s instead the sort of work that doesn’t become dated very badly at all — and precisely the sort of work I needed to be reading right now.

Because it is, in essence, a simple overview of historical events and movements in the Victorian period, as selected under the rubric of “what things were major Victorian poets and novelists inspired by and/or arguing with?” So it tells you about the Reform Bills and the Chartist movement and Utilitarianism and a whole bunch of other things that I’d encountered in passing while reading other books, and then it provides examples of characters or events or whatever in Dickens or Tennyson or whoever that seem connected to those things. Occasionally the result is dry, and it’s entirely possible some of the finer points have been changed or complicated since Altick wrote this book, but on the whole I found it extraordinarily useful for my purposes.

And I definitely picked the perfect time to read it. I now feel much better-grounded in certain issues of the period, and therefore better prepared to tackle some of the other books on my list.

Victorian Book Report: The Essential Handbook of Victorian Etiquette

Point in this book’s favor: it’s a reprint compliation of material dating to 1873-1890. Ergo, genuine Victorian-period advice on how to behave.

Point against this book’s favor: it’s American advice, which I was not able to tell when I ordered it.

Still, I find it helpful; Hill, the original writer, describes certain scenarios in ways that jibe with my impressions for the other side of the pond, while fleshing them out such that I can better understand the proper (or improper) behavior. So I feel I can use it, with caution.

Much to my surprise, he even gets a few random proto-feminist brownie points. I was highly entertained that “Professor Hill’s Guide to Love and Marriage” begins with a few paragraphs reassuring the reader that there’s nothing wrong in these modern days with being an “old maid” — indeed, women’s opportunities nowadays are so diverse that there’s really no reason to get married unless you actually find someone suitable that you like. (Professor Hill’s Guide to Love and Marriage: don’t do it!) He also claims that when the financial failure of a marriage is blamed on the wife’s imprudent spending, it’s usually because the husband never told the wife they were in monetary straits; properly informed wives, he (rather optimistically) says, will always keep within the family’s means. I frowned a bit when he advised wives that some nights their husbands may come home from a hard day at the office and carry on in the same autocratic manner they use with their employees, and it’s just best to suck it up — but then he went on to advise husbands that sometimes their wives’ “variable condition of health” may put her in a bad mood, and then it’s just best to overlook it and carry on. The sauce which is good for the goose is, indeed, also good for the gander, and that pleases me.

(In fact, the only place I caught him being noticeably one-sided, he did so in favor of women: husbands should, he recommends, keep their wives well-informed as to their business affairs, and take their prudent advice — but stay the hell out of affairs of household management.)

It’s a small book, half taken up with illustrations, but some of those go with the text: a dinner scene, for example, illustrating a bunch of examples of What Not To Do, with helpful annotations. Not a hugely informative resource, but entertaining and quick to read.

Victorian Book Report: Liza Picard, Victorian London

As usual, I don’t have much to say about this one; it’s Liza Picard, and she’s awesome. Information on daily life in London, this time in the middle Victorian period. (I don’t know what I’ll do if I continue on with a Blitz and/or modern book; for the first time since beginning the Onyx Court series, I won’t have Liza Picard to light my way.)

This might be my least favorite of her four works, not through any fault of hers. It’s just that by the Victorian period, London had gotten so huge, and so diverse — in the senses of class, ethnicity, religion, and everything else — that the resulting book inevitably feels less personal than the Elizabethan one did. She still has a wealth of excellent detail, but more and more it feels like impressionism, a scattering of data points from which to imagine the whole.

Despite that, she is and always will be the first author I recommend when someone wants to know about London daily life in the past. There are topics she doesn’t cover — for those, I have other books — but she’s a pretty excellent place to start.

your daily dose of gender rage

Cat Valente (yuki_onna) is on a roll at the moment, first with a splendid jab at the gendering of deodorant marketing (men get Science! women get Squishy Feelings!), and then with a right hook that takes down Super Bowl commercials.

Pretty much all I have to say is, right on. This is why I hate watching TV as it airs; this is why I stay away from sitcoms and comedic movies in general. Because they present me with this awful, appalling world of Bitchy Women and Immature Men and How They’ll Never Understand One Another, and then they ask me to find it funny. And not only do I not find it funny, I don’t want to. I look at the world they’re trying to sell me, and I hate it.

wrong project, but oh well

Man, I don’t know what it is. All I have to do is decide, “I’m working on Thing X!,” and I will without fail come up with ideas for Thing Y instead.

In the current instance, that means I decided I would try to finish “The Unquiet Grave” by the end of the month, and promptly put down 1,022 words on “Mad Maudlin” instead. Not really complaining — I don’t care which short story I make progress on, so long as it’s one of them — but I really wish I could find a way to leverage this for novels. As I said on matociquala‘s LJ the other day, it seems to me like there should be a way to do it. Contract for Book A, write Book B instead; then contract for Book C, somehow convince yourself you’re working on that one for realz, whereupon you write Book A. Or something. But I fear deadlines might make that tough to wrangle.

Time to go think about “The Unquiet Grave” some more, in the hopes of finishing “Mad Maudlin” in the near future.

First lines!

It seems to be that time of year (or whatever cycle this is on), when writers on my flist do the “first lines” meme. As in, we post the opening lines of our various unfinished stories, sometimes with commentary, in the hopes of maybe prodding one of them forward. In celebration of the new short story, let me go over the stuff I’ve got sitting around. (Counting only stuff that has at least a fragment written down. If we included things that consist of titles and vague ideas, or vague ideas without titles, or titles without vague ideas, we’d be here all month.)

It’s quite a list, all the same.

GOD I’ve missed this.

2,650 words today, and that’s a story. A complete short story, from beginning to end, knocked out in an evening because I just felt like it.

I don’t remember the last time I managed that. “Serpent, Wolf, and Half-Dead Thing” was similarly an idea that mugged me out of nowhere (rather than coming from my list of unfinished ideas), but it stalled several times on its way to completion. This one sent me to pace the upstairs hallway once or twice, but that was simply a matter of finding the words.

This feels really good. I need to find my way back to doing it more often.

that’s part of the job done

I haven’t yet gone through my site and scrubbed the Amazon Associates links from my book recommendation pages, but I’ve done the pages for my own novels. Which made me realize how lazy I’d been with those; I was pretty much just linking Amazon. I’ve replaced that with a much more comprehensive set: Powell’s, IndieBound, Barnes and Noble, Borders, Fictionwise (for ebooks), Chapters (for Canada), and Waterstone’s (for the UK).

Having done that, I now put it to you, my loyal LJ readers: are there other stores I should include? I can’t list every store on the planet, of course, but if there are other major online retailers — especially for Canada and the UK — let me know what I’ve missed.

the fallout of Amazon vs. Macmillan

John Scalzi is valuable once again. This time he’s discussing what you can do to help the real victims of this publishing slapfight — “real” in the sense of “people who are losing something, right now, that they can’t afford and aren’t going to get back.” Amazon — which still hasn’t put back the buy links, last I heard — is losing sales, sure, but they can survive it. Ditto Macmillan, though their survival is less easily assured. And readers can buy the books elsewhere, or pick them up from Amazon once this mess is resolved.

For authors, though, every reader that doesn’t buy their book represents not just lost income, but the possibility that whichever subsidary of Macmillan publishes them won’t offer another contract in the future. Because when contract time rolls around, the bean-counters are going to look at how their previous books have sold. And for some, the losses they’ve been incurring since Friday — much less any of the ill-conceived boycotts flying around — may break them.

I bring this up because of a post by Jay Lake, where he describes the attitudes and assumptions he’s seen on the Kindle message boards. The list is really disturbing to anyone working as a writer — well, see for yourself:

1. Authors are greedy
2. Authors are rich
3. Authors hate ebook readers
4. Authors control pricing
5. Authors control what their publishers do
6. Authors should be punished for what their publisher does
7. Authors are taking orders from their publishers’ PR departments
8. Authors should self-publish, because they’ll make lots more money that way
9. Authors don’t know what they’re talking about
10. Authors aren’t necessary
11. Authors are bullying Amazon

My thoughts on this are, once again, rather long, so they’re going behind a cut.

It’s almost enough to make you cry.

Amazon vs. Macmillan: my verdict

The part behind the cut is going to be long and somewhat arcane, but if you want to know some of how the sausage gets made — just what’s going on with ebooks and Kindles, how pricing gets determined, and why Amazon’s strategy is problematic for the industry (let alone the petulance of their tactics) — then read onward. Outside the cut, I’ll point you at the response from Macmillan’s CEO, and the more belated response from Amazon’s Kindle Team (dissected by anghara). If you read only one other thing on the topic, it should be John Scalzi’s magesterial (and highly amusing) analysis of how Amazon failed, because his post is about the tactics, and why they were such a resoundingly bad idea. The rest of this will be about the strategy, the behind-the-scenes stuff that explains why so much of the publishing industry is up in arms against Amazon.

Macmillan may not be the good guy, but they’re the better guy in this particular war.