Clear as mud

Zero degrees here this morning. It makes it hard to leap out of bed and seize the day. More of a shudder and a shake and a run for the heater, since I left the window open all night. But, it looks like it's going to be another gorgeous day on the coast.

So, I've reached a part of the edits which makes me wonder what I was thinking. At the time of writing, it seemed so clear; but now... I feel like I've blinded myself with science. And if I confuse myself, the reader will be just as puzzled. Or maybe that was the point? A science geek talking to a military man; both equally clever, just in different fields. One trying to explain the transit corridors, the other needing to know, but not quite understanding.

It's understanding how a television works. Most people don't care as long as it works, but the repairer must understand the intricacies to know what went wrong.

I'm going to be adding pages to clear this up and answer others questions posed, all without infodumping - now there's a challenge.

I think I need coffee before I confront this.

A many-coloured thing

When editing, I use a few references, some old, some new:

The first is Patricia Holt's Ten Mistakes Writers Don't See (But Can Easily Fix When They Do).This is an absolute must for editing and I use ninety-percent of the time. The article is clear and informative, with examples so readers can see why a sentence is wrong or ill-considered.


The second is Holly Lisle's free e-book, Mugging the Muse. This book never goes out of fashion. It's full of articles detailing the road to publication.

Number three: Elizabeth Sim's 8 Ways to Write a 5-star Chapter One. I suck at first chapters - probably the first three chapters - until I get into the meat of the piece.I think it's the rush to get to the good bits, the manic writing to set the scene. Info-dumps used to be my starting point; now, I hope, not so much.


Finally, Chuck Sambuchino's Ten Tips for Building Your Writing Checklist which gives me more to be thinking of as I wade through the text.

I'm going through Ms Holt's article, which means my current WIP, Huntress: Alone, is now a many-coloured thing as I highlight bad words, or suffixes like 'ly' or 'ness', and the 'to be' words, like 'was', 'were', 'am', 'be', 'been', 'being' etc. Each category has a different colour. Every time I do this, I think I'm improving - and then I see how many words were replaced with lurid colour. Of course, I have to go back and change things because the heroine, Cambria, has 'am' in the middle of it!


It mean I have to pay closer attention to what I'm doing, otherwise, when I post the book, it will have that added colour to some pages. Once I'm done, I get to use grammar references... oh... joy.

Hot and bothered

I am sweating, both literally and figuratively. The temperature just passed the 40C mark and with no air-conditioning, I'm finding it tough to do any work. There's a slight breeze, but it's just pushing warm air around. The cabbage butterflies are enjoying it, though, drifting from one vegetable plant to another to lay eggs. The cicadas are a bit deafening and I think the birds have decided it's too hot to fly around; if I constantly wore a feather coat, I'd be reluctant, too.

The laptop ain't too happy neither, the fan is desperately trying to keep the inner workings cool - maybe I should shift me and the computer to sit in front of an open refrigerator, or a fan. So. It's hot; damned hot.

Figuratively, I'm trying to work through edits and wondering what the hell I'm doing. The more I read, the more I like the work, even as I recognise there's something wrong with it.

I used a voice-recognition program to read it back to me. I'm guessing in the first instance, the protagonist shouldn't be talking to herself; it's not part of her personality. In the second, some of the descriptions are subtly wrong - not sure why, yet - third, there's some chapters missing. I don't know what happened to them, but I'll have to rewrite them. Fourth, I need to be more precise about locations and descriptions thereof. Fifth, sucky grammar. 'Nuff said.

Summer, it has to be said, is the worst time for me to do this work. I'm a winter person and the heat just sucks the energy right out of me. Oh, for a southerly change blasting up the coast with bitey winds and light rain!

I think it will be up early to work, wallow during the heat of the day and work in the evenings and night - I can't sleep in the heat, so I may as well do something constructive.

I promised this book to a beta reader and I'm way past due with it, even with the flood damage. For now, I shall at least finish this chapter for revision tomorrow, even as I want to find the coolth of the sea.

Wake up call

Rainbow Lorikeets, it should be noted, love chattering to each other in loud voices, like kids in a school yard.

My neighbour puts out native bird seed for their breakfast and dinner. The air is then filled with the noise of feasting Lorikeets, all trying to shout down the next bird... for a couple of hours.

And at six a.m., I'd like to take a shotgun to them. I'm so not at my best when brought out of a deep sleep by screeching...

However, the early mornings aren't wasted. (I'm the kind of person who, once awakened, is awake - no dozing here.) It's two weeks to Nanowrimo and already I have the first scene of the first book I'll be writing. My subconscious is slipping into Nano-fever and producing stuff at unspeakable hours of the morning. So it doesn't fade away, I've resorted to... gasp, squeak... writing notes.

Yeah, an organic writer making notes. Fortunately, there's no right or wrong way to write and the notes will help. I'm still putting in the edits and don't want to be distracted by what's next.

To that end, I need to get back to the mind games.

Shite and Briney

Six a.m. The rain and too much thinking has conspired to awaken me and keep me awake. I am not soothed by rain on a tin roof, it's loud and obnoxious. La Nina is in full swing, heading to rage.

With Nano coming up in a couple of weeks, I've got a bad case of hmmm-I-must-write-that-down-itis. A syndrome which has no compassion for the time. A lot of writers get it I believe and the only cure is to write the book - or take drugs.

So, I'm at my desk, beavering away (yes, I know I'm on the 'net, but I have the manuscript open and ready to put in the edits). A hundred pages to go and I'm coming up to an emotionally difficult part of the book. It's made me a cranky-pants around the house, because it's a part of the book that must be there. Sigh.

The day is brightening from dark to gloomy and it's chilly, almost back to Winter, except for the dampness. Time for a latte! And words, plenty of words.

Teens in the crib

I've got teenagers in the house - I'm borrowing them so the beach doesn't feel so neglected while I'm editing. Actually, I buggered my knee and walking for any distance is a challenge (but the teenagers make a good excuse).

But I'm still editing. It's taking time because I keep getting distracted. You know, by the teens, by the teev, I mean... by the TBR pile and so many other things that conspire against me. (Teen one needed help on 'creative analysis of a metaphysical poem'.) Colour me bug-eyed. We didn't do metaphysics when I went to school. There's also the Cold War essay. But then, my niece is exceptionally clever and loves homework - teen two, not so much.

I think I'll be done by the end of next week. I had a scathingly brilliant idea for the cover - but I think I've forgotten what it was. Maybe I made a note somewhere...

Back to work. I'm taking the aforementioned kiddos to the movies later this afternoon - teen one I think loves homework a little too much and needs time away from it all.

Patience

It's been slow going today on the edits.

I know writers are supposed to be able to work through anything, but waiting for the plumber simply broke my concentration. Every time I focused, I thought I heard them pull up. What is it about expecting people that interferes? I had one eye on the work and the other on the door; one ear listening to the dialogue, the other on the traffic outside.

Of course, if I slipped up the street, that would have been when they arrived; even going to the bathroom was fraught with... um, the expectation of a knock on the door? Yeah, TMI. Forget I said that.

It never does any good to ask what time they'll arrive, either - I don't think tradesmen work that way, although some do. "Will you be home all day." Seems the stock question. And since the tap's been leaking for a while, the only answer I could give was 'yes'.

And now they've done the job and gone - the wallet much lighter - I can concentrate again.

Waiting for tradesmen is one of life's little trials.

So, while I'm doing the edits, story lines for Nano keep popping up. I expect it to get worse as November draws near. Which means I need to get back to it and indulge in a little overtime.

Back in the trenches

Right then. I've spent the weekend editing Huntress: Unbreakable.

By golly, it has some dark moments and I wonder what black mood I was in when I wrote those scenes. I'm not deleting them - they portray a character who never had a moral compass; there are equally dark exploratory scenes and scenes of redemption. Thankfully, I came across some amusement, too, but I think it needs a hit or two more of Joss Whedon-ness. Oh, God, oh, God, we're all gonna die? Heh, heh, I love Firefly.

Does the end fulfil the promise of the first book? Yes, although some peeps might not think so and I've left the option open to write a fourth book or more. Nano, anyone?

For now, I'll set it aside for a few weeks and work on a couple of others. I'm not very good at queries or synopses and I need the practice. I also need to pack this lot off to agents - bidding war anyone? Hah! Kidding... sort of.

I need to work on something else, so... I'm off to work on something else!

Moving on...

Moving on from my breakfast... ah, thingy. I found an article on Salon.com, When anyone can be a published author by Laura Miller, via Tanya Huff's Live Journal page.

The article raises some interesting points about the publishing industry and the current ease of self-publishing on the 'net. Will the expected explosion of standard-book-industry's rejected books onto the internet mean readers will have to wade through worse tripe than usual for the gems, as current editors do today?

Personally, I've tried to edit some... 'underdone' books myself; fortunately, the kernal of plot made the work worth the extra effort. I've seen some pure blech, too.

Indeed, I've posted work I'm not entirely happy with (although I'd never presume to say 'this book is perfect' for any of my work; only that I've posted the best it can be at that particular juncture in time work). I need to learn not to make deadlines unreasonable.

Having said that, I need to get back to the duology I'm editing to take down with me to Melbourne along with Demonesque. I'm hoping they'll see continuity in work ethic even as the books are two separate genres. Is three books enough? Probably. But I'll take synopsis of the others as well.

Evil edits

It's all very well to write your very own masterpiece and set it aside with a happy smirk and a song in your heart at the astonishing accomplishment, but then reality sets in when the edits come around.

Oh, yes, those nasty, evil, stinky edits. They lurk, peering over your shoulder as you write with a hand over the mouth to suppress the sniggering. They'll even go to another room to ROFLOL, joke with each other and generally yuck it up with slaps on the back. And while you're typing 'The End', they've got an arm around each other and wiping away the tears of laughter. Oh, yes, they know what you've written...

Of course, their all po-faced and professional, dressed in suits with black briefcases when they turn up to do the 'revision work' on your masterpiece. With a superior glance they begin:

"Passive here, and there, and over on this page and OMG! Is that a split infinitive??" The knowing gleam in the eye appears. "WTF, noob, is this a verb conflict?"

"Erm..."

"Oh dear, the sentence structure... and yet more passives. Tsk. Got a dangling participle here and," the edit clears its throat in an effort not to giggle, "an end of sentence preposition."

"Well, you see, it's like this..." Any explanation is brutally cut off.

"No, no, no. All this wordiness. Pithy! That's what we need, pithy, concise... succinct! BYKT. And Lord, the descriptions..."

"What's wrong with the descriptions?"

The edit glares at you. "I can't find any, BTW."

"Oh, cheap shot." You protest, but you know your descriptions aren't... well, as good as they can be. "I've done the descriptions..."

"Mm, yes, and I quote: 'white hair with a road-mapped face'. Obviously I see there's way too much information here; I can clearly imagine the character." The edit leans forward. "4tun8ly, I'm here to deal with it. Is there anything wrong with a cloud white halo of hair over a tanned, lined face with a wealth of experience stamped in each wrinkle?"

"Um, well, actually..."

"My point Ms Wanna-Be-A-Writer-Without-The-Angst, is imagery. JPEG it. Perfect imagery, matched with intriguing action and pithy - hmm, I like that word... pithy. Pith, pith, pithy - ah... where was I? Oh, right: Perfect imagery, matched with intriguing action and pithy meaningful dialogue are the basis for a good novel."

"A good novel, not a..."

"Now then: characterization." The edit sighs mournfully. "You do know what Mary-Sue-ism is, don't you?"

"Don't even go there, edit. My characters make mistakes, like anyone else, and those mistakes have real consequences."

"Yes, about those... I think less is more, in this instance. No more PMSing, o.k.?"

"Less is more? PM... Nope. I'm disagreeing with you here. Actions require consequences, not applause nor some insipid 'it was all a dream', or it wasn't as bad as first made out. People died. People were changed forever as a result of one character's bad temper. Action requires consequence."

"You forget yourself, writer. I am here to help you make this book perfect. If you want to be published, you'll listen to me. AFAICT, this needs major work, ani1 can see that."

Casually, you rise and lift the manuscript off the desk and hold it to your chest as if to protect it. "Three things, edit: one, no book is ever perfect; and two, copyeditors can do a better job at buffing the work than I ever will."

Edit scowls. "Number conflict, writer, what's the third?"

"Your abbreviations are showing."

Heroics

I dumped the scene. On the plus side, the cascading effect of the scene has cut the manuscript by fifteen thousand words. I have to find between another... six to sixteen thousand words to bring Demonesque to a reasonable total of 110-120k. I'll try to find them when I print out the work for another round of edits. I suspect it will take a heroic effort to decide if I need to cut more scenes and not reduce the intent of the book.

This is the first of a few manuscripts I'm updating and reviewing for September. I want to take a number of genres to Melbourne for the World Science Fiction Convention. If I can show continuity - and exciting work - maybe someone will take me on.

I have the almost perfect second job. I work at a local museum writing the newsletter, webmastering internet page I wrote/edited and I've started work on the Wikipedia pages. Writing about the local area and maritime history is a constant source of fascination for me - so much that I often leave late. Now, if only they'd pay me for it rather than my volunteering.

At this juncture in time, I'm wavering between continued work on Demonesque and information sheets on British Naval heroes Sir John Jervis and Captain Richard Bowen! Both of whom are linked with my home town. I'm sure many locals and visitors have no idea who they were and their importance, not just to Jervis Bay, but on a global scale. Soon, my precious, they will know.

In or out, in or... out?

Sometimes, I just don't know what I was thinking! Probably too covered in smug to think.

Okay, so a 500 page book? Oh, way cool to write so much; not so cool when it comes to editing. I think it's all to do with mood. I've already deleted at least a page, coz, no, we don't need to read about that, thank you, it's a little too graphic - and yet...

The decision on what to leave in and what to remove can be difficult. I know I can reduce the size of the book by getting rid of a character and a particular scene (except I love that scene and the character is pretty important as well). Then there are the extras, some named, some not, who do the 'busy' work. I mean, where would our rich characters be without the concierge? Or the valet? The secretary who keeps the office going?

Oh, yeah: what action-packed, thrill-bound, urban fantasy book is gonna have the above? A book with a dual-natured character under threat, that's what, so the ordinary characters become integral when juxtaposed to the extraordinary.

And I still have to add extra descriptions (at which I truly suck). I'm going to try Angela Ackerman's Description Thesaurus over at herThe Bookshelf Muse site - she also has the Emotion Thesaurus, Colour, Texture and Shapes Thesaurus and the Symbolism Thesaurus. Thanks to Natalie Hatch at What Time is it Again? for the link.

I'd love to skip the boring bits, but I think I'll just re-write them instead; maybe in doing so, I'll know what to cut and what to keep...

Force of Nature

I've finally finished the second edits of Huntress: Sacrifice. I now have about nine days to put in the corrections and do another edit. At the same time, I now have nine days to finish writing the webpage for the local museum before it's supposed to go live. Bah, who needs a weekend?

* * *

Is this cool or what? It's lightning within the Icelandic volcano whose name no-one but an Icelander can pronounce.

I actually hunted around the 'net to find out why volcanoes can generate their own lightning, but the discussions varied from "I dunno" to the idea that the eruptions cause mesocyclones, thus generating the conditions for lightning.

I'm guessing no-one has managed to get close enough to take the readings they need to solve the conundrum.

While a lot of people seem bent out of shape over this (my sister is stuck in Paris... whatever shall she do?) it provides an opportunity for all those clever engineers to create an ash-proof engine. Remember Dante's Peak with that yummy Pierce... ah, the helicopter? Or 1991 when Mt Pinatubo went up in the Philipines? How is it we still don't have a totally weather-proof engine? That aircraft are still so fragile? The peeps who develop an engine unaffected by ash clouds, or smoke, or ducks could probably name their price.

Maybe Virgin Galactic have the right idea and we should leave terrestrial airspace. Just pop up outside the atmosphere and then down again. I have visions of it...

Lesson learned

Plenty of pre-editing editing going on here.

I've rediscovered that getting bent out of shape over things isn't good for my stress levels, which have been through the roof given my two deadlines that fall in the same week.

Solution? Work on work when necessary, ie, on work days; work on fiction when I want to, which is any time.

The first deadline could be unreasonable since this project came to me six months after it was initiated. If it's late, it's late and isn't my responsibility. Having said that, I'll still do my best to get it done on time.

The second deadline is one of my own making. And I've been having fun. Up late, reading the work done for last year's Nano. I finished the sequel to Huntress and had to start on the third book. I think it bodes well that I enjoyed both books.

Now, I get to print them out and start the real editing. I'm probably putting the mokkas on myself, but it looks like I'll see the deadline and raise another one soon after.

Oh. Wait. Escape, escape, delete, delete. I have the May story-a-day marathon coming up. Guess I'll just have to see how Hunted does on the readership scale before I post the third book.

Down Time

Ah, yes. The sky is blue, the air is cool and Autumn has arrived. Yay!
In the post storm landscape, busted branches hover in trees, sticks and twigs litter the ground and rattle under cars; clumps of seaweed bob like bodies in the calm waters off the beach. (And that’s a disturbing sight, I can tell you.)

I’ve deliberately stayed away from any editing/writing over the past week or so because I’m temporarily over it. I wanted to read something I haven’t written, watch a movie or two, or three or four, guilt free.

I’ve watched Sweeney Todd (a curious movie), The Matrix (gotta love Keanu and the delicious Mr Smith), Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (still indifferent to it), From Dusk until Dawn (George Clooney... sigh) and Dogma (which is in my top five of must sees. It’s brilliant, eloquent and oh, so wicked).

For the moment, I’ve set aside Vicki Pettersson’s City of Souls for some Maggie Shayne re-runs, probably some old Nora, too; a back to the beginning kind of thing. I need to reconnect with why I love writing and reading, be inspired again. And to relax, which, I confess, I’m not very good at. Posting stuff ‘out there’ is stressful because you’re presenting work for judgement – the good and the bad – and four books in six months has plum done wored me out.

I feel better for not rushing into the next book, for focussing on other things. I’m aware of another deadline at the end of April – which is right before the Story-a-day marathon. (But no pressure...)

Until then, I’m happy to rest up for a week or so and not worry about putting words down on paper.

May is soon enough for that and editing can wait.

Book posted

Finally. After problems with converting Spring's Reign to .pdf and then difficulty uploading the sucker, it's posted on Scribd.

Ahh... sweet relief - even if it is raining. Again. I can go off, do a happy dance - or maybe not, the weather gods might think it a rain dance and do something I'll regret.

I think I'll put my feet up and read a book, or the newspaper, or watch a movie or anything I damn-well please until I decide what's next. Actually, I already know. I'm just trying not to think about it yet.

Writing one book, editing four and posting them all within six months is kind of draining, even if the results were... mixed.

Lizard thinking

Printed out a final draft - I'll be reading it tonight and tomorrow for last minute corrections - and went ahead with the cover. Since this is the last of four books, I intended that all cover fonts and pictures match.

Oh... the horror!!! For previous books, I used a different computer, with an art package and fonts. Of course, when I tried to start the damn thing, it pouted, crossed its arms and said 'Nup'. After trying everything, I had to admit defeat.

My own damn fault. I changed to the laptop for convenience and because the desktop was making whiney-ass noises. Now, it won't go at all. I think I killed it; killed it stone-motherless-dead.

I set the desktop aside and did some pouting of my own.

Now, it's hot and humid here, tropical even; just moving around produces sweat - and a lizard.

Lizard?? Yes. A Blue Tongue, in fact. The garden has about five that sneak out of the garage to ambush snails and slugs (although, I don't suppose snails would rear in surprise and make a dash for the tomatoes - funny image though).

Because it's hot, I opened the front door - but not the security screen - and the back door - which doesn't have a security screen - to allow a sea breeze to pass through.

While pouting at the tragedy of a dead computer, I heard a rustle and glanced down. I looked at the Blue Tongue, and it looked at me. Then it made a dash for the couch. Those things are fast.

It took half an hour to remove the beastie back into the garden, but the sudden change in thought processes did the job.

I remembered the handy-dandy font software I bought... mmm... years ago. Sixteen hundred fonts to choose from and import. Oh, frabjous day, calloo-callay!!

Cover's done.

All I need do, is a final run through and the book should be posted on Scribd by the midnight deadline.

Music to edit by

I'm putting in the edits on Spring's Reign. By the weekend, it will be posted and I can turn my attention to something else.

As I put the edits in, I'm listening to some 'old' music. I went through my cd collection - which desperately needs organising - and plucked out stuff I haven't heard in ages.

Ah... not the hippest but these are what I've run through the player:

Shawn Colvin: Steady On
Shawn Colvin: A Few Little Repairs
Aqua: Aquarius
Alan Parsons Project: Turn of a Friendly Card
Fleetwood Mac: Tango in the Night
Mike Oldfield: Voyager
Mike Oldfield: Amarok
The Corrs: Forgiven, not Forgotten
Robbie Williams: Sing When You're Winning

and more modern ones:
Lily Allen: It's Not Me, It's You (The neighbours are probably fed up by now.)
Kelly Clarkson: All I Ever Wanted
Michael Buble: ALL OF THEM!!!

They're getting a bit of a flogging, but I find it relaxing and I can concentrate. So, back to it or I'll miss the deadline.

'sup?

Finally, the rain has ceased for the time being. This morning dawned sunny, right before a sea mist rolled in, a sure indicator of a hot and humid day.

We've had more than twice the monthly average for rainfall and eight days of the stuff out of nine. Everything has that dampness about it that reminds me of England. I'm just about to get someone from Seattle to send me the t-shirt: In Seattle, you don't tan, you rust. Coz, I'm feelin' ya.

I can categorically say: "I am over Summer." I want the coolth of Winter, the bitey mornings and cheek-nipping breezes. I want the scent of burning leaves and mown grass. I want the sun to rise later and set earlier... okay, it's doing that now, but I want it to be obvious. I guess I'll have to be patient.

Edits are on track for Friday - barring any unforeseen screw ups.

Oh, and as for the Super Bowl I watched. Can you say, Cha-ching-ing-ing! Who dat?

Rain, rain, and more bloody rain

The last twenty four hours we've had buckets of rain, 100mm in twelve hours. Not much sleep since I had to check the back drains at midnight, 3.00 and again at 6.00.

The house is set on flat ground, with the rainwater run off coming through the backyard since builders behind us changed the natural watercourse some years ago. It's been eight or nine years since so much rain fell in a short time.

October I was out checking the drains, but the rain eased mid-evening.

The humidity is still high and we have a severe weather warning for the rest of the day. Sigh.

I'm hoping my beans and brussel sprouts survive - I only planted them at lunchtime yesterday, before the bucketing. The veggie patch is looking waterlogged.

On the editing front, I have about three chapters to do in this draft. I'll set it aside for a day or so and let it simmer... Okay, fine I have J.D. Robb's Fantasy in Death waiting. From all reports, it's an absolute cracker. Work first, then play. Which means, weather warning or not, I need to get back to the editing so I can have my reward.