NANOWRIMO, or SELF INFLICTED TORTURE

Thinking about trying --- once again!---to do NANOWRIMO this year.  I did get one novel out of the experiment ----but finished it long after November of that year.

I have an idea for a novel -- I never lack for ideas ---- so maybe I'll give it one more shot to try and finish within the month.  I also like to pull my teeth without anesthetic. (grin)  I'll be, of course, posting snippets here.

Hugo Winners

If you've ever wanted to read a review of the Hugo winners over the years and wondered why they won, or shouldn't have won, this is the thread for you.  http://io9.com/5503441/with-this-immortal-roger-zelazny-brings-the-gods-down-to-earth

(The link starts around 1966, but you can find links to the previous winners on the website itself.)

Venturing onto Smashwords & Amazon

I have a new story out on Smashwords called The Unlovely Princess.  The Amazon edition will follow shortly.  The publisher is A Conspiracy of Authors.  I thought it was time I started putting out some of my work in e-book format.  Over the next few months, I will add to the list of titles.  This is a wonderful new venue for authors to be seen & build name recognition.  I should have started this a long time ago, but Life does have a way of getting between intentions and actions.

Smashwords

I will (or to be more accurate, A Conspiracy of Authors will) be putting some of my stories on Smashwords.  When I have something to link to, I'll put a shortcut here.

I'm excited about it -- about joining ACOA and about finally doing something more with my work!

done, Done, DONE!

Finished! Finished! (Dancing in the street) I have finished Wintersland, the novel I began writing two years ago, this very month. It came in at around 33,000 words, so, technically, not a novel, but I can already see that, with revision, it will top 40,000, which is novel-length. I was all set to beat myself up for taking two years to write 33,000 words, but when I considered that I had major medical problems, a job change, and a massive re-write sandwiched in there, I think I did alright. The story is rough, and will definitely need revision, but I'm just happy it's done. I dedicated it to my brother, Michael. He would have been 42 today if he was still alive.

Technology - Catching the Expressway

It probably doesn't come as a surprise that I'd like to sell what I write. Who wouldn't? You put hours and hours of work into writing a story, you'd kinda like to show it off. And get paid for all that work.

These days, breaking into the print industry is like standing in the middle of Death Valley hoping to catch a ride before your water and food run out. Good luck with that.

So I'm reading about all these writers who've quit the print industry and are going the self-publishing route. I can see that if you invite enough people to get into your car that are interested in the kind of stuff you write, you could find your audience.

How to do that? I'm not even sure how to tweet yet. Sigh.

I've got to start interacting with technology instead of letting technology pass me by. What the heck happened to that wiz kid who taught herself how to use the internet back when browsers were nearly unheard of and only a few pages were out there to look at? While I was buzzing along in my fast lane, they built the expressway to one side, and I just now noticed all the traffic whizzing by me.

I need to overhaul my car and catch the expressway.

Doing Something I Swore Never to Do.....

Write a piece of fanfiction. I read the latest anthology Mercedes Lackey put out about her signature work, Valdemar, and thought, "I could do better than some of this stuff." So I did. Herewith is a snippet of it, with all the disclaimers in place---that this world belongs to Mercedes Lackey and not to me, etc., etc., and with all due apologies to Ms. Lackey.


Angel's Companion, Lia, alerts her to a visitor to Companion's Field.

As Angel approached the knot of Companions, she could hear the sobs and heaving breaths of someone whose entire world had fallen into ruin.

The Companions parted, and Angel could see the girl clinging to Lia's cannon, her face buried in the Companion's knee.

:You do attract the little girls, Chosen: Angel told Lia before she dropped her crutches to the ground, making as much noise as possible, and clumsily lowered herself to sit on the rough ground.

The girl raised a tear-blotched face.

"Hello," Angel said in a friendly voice. "I'm Angel,"--she pointed--"and that's Lia."

The girl scooted away.

"Don't worry," Angel said. "You didn't do anything wrong."

When Angel made no other moves and said nothing further, just sat, arms resting in her lap, the girl relaxed and scrubbed at her face. Angel judged her to be about twelve, all skinny arms and legs, and with wild, uncombed brown hair. The flash of eyes she'd seen had been brown.

"Will you tell me your name?" Angel asked with gentle tones, rather like those she used for soothing a frightened animal. "Just so I don't have to say 'hey, you, girl.'"

"Sasha," the girl whispered, and hiccuped.

Angel did her the courtesy of not smiling at the sound.

"You're a Herald, aren't you?" Sasha said.

"It's the Whites," Angel said, deadpan. "Gave me away, didn't it?"

Sasha tried to smile. At least her lips quivered as if making the effort.

"Journeyman status," Angel replied cheerfully. "Lia and I were out on circuit. We were, that is, until this." She thumped the cast on her leg.

"Did your leg get broken during a battle?" Sasha asked.

"We --er--weren't battling at the time," Angel said.

Lia snorted. :With a stirrup, maybe.:

Angel ignored her Companion and didn't volunteer the information that a mud-slick boot slipping from her stirrup while mounting had caused the injury. Some stories sounded better with bits left out.