Rumors of my Death...
have been exagerated, but not by much. I'm down for the count, kids.
See you on Monday.
I've known people to take animal tranquilizers. I wonder if animal antibiotics work as well?
Kidding, I'm kidding.
12.03.2004
11.23.2004
"How do you generate maps?"
Generating the maps involved nothing more than drawing on (yup!) the blue lined graph paper of yore. My first module used two facing sheets 8.5x11 sheets, to be printed on the inside cover of the module. (Think Caves of Chaos, or any of the classic 1st Ed modules. This was actually a selling point for Joseph Goodman ... that guy is the COOLEST. But I digress.)
I sketched the maps in pencil, using ink pens for clarity once I was satisfied. Once Goodman ok'd the maps, I made a few changes to help drop my word count, and then he sent the maps off to a professional cartographer who will draw/CAD what you see in the actual module.
Essentially the process was identical to designing a dungeon crawl for play at home. Flesh out the descriptions, copy in the stat blocks, and tada! You've just earned yourself a nice paycheck, writing credits, and a spot on the rack at the local gaming store.
Way easy. Way cool.
There are dozens of companies doing d20 work, some better than others. You need to be certain that your writing will be supported by good art, design, packaging and distribution . Both Zeitgeist and Goodman Games come highly recommended.
One last note: the entire process might have been swamped if MNTS and Silverfyre/TSG hadn't agreed to playtest the module. I don't have a local group, and playtesting turned out to be vital in shaking out the gaps and broken bits.
Generating the maps involved nothing more than drawing on (yup!) the blue lined graph paper of yore. My first module used two facing sheets 8.5x11 sheets, to be printed on the inside cover of the module. (Think Caves of Chaos, or any of the classic 1st Ed modules. This was actually a selling point for Joseph Goodman ... that guy is the COOLEST. But I digress.)
I sketched the maps in pencil, using ink pens for clarity once I was satisfied. Once Goodman ok'd the maps, I made a few changes to help drop my word count, and then he sent the maps off to a professional cartographer who will draw/CAD what you see in the actual module.
Essentially the process was identical to designing a dungeon crawl for play at home. Flesh out the descriptions, copy in the stat blocks, and tada! You've just earned yourself a nice paycheck, writing credits, and a spot on the rack at the local gaming store.
Way easy. Way cool.
There are dozens of companies doing d20 work, some better than others. You need to be certain that your writing will be supported by good art, design, packaging and distribution . Both Zeitgeist and Goodman Games come highly recommended.
One last note: the entire process might have been swamped if MNTS and Silverfyre/TSG hadn't agreed to playtest the module. I don't have a local group, and playtesting turned out to be vital in shaking out the gaps and broken bits.
The OTHER Reason to Be On Time
We've all know that no matter what, we have to have our work done on time.
Wizards makes it clear that they are "very deadline driven," Elaine's blog has lauded the virtues of being a "low maintenance author," and there is even an article on the Wizards site about how not to blow deadlines.
Okay, cool, we get it. Writing is the balance of art, craft and business. Be prompt, rock and roll.
But there is another good reason to be on time ....
Over the last two months I wrote a d20 module for Goodman Games. It wasn't literature, but it was fun, easy writing, the sort of work I dreamed about doing as a geeky kid. I beat the deadline by a month, and when the revisions came back, I beat that deadline by a month.
Any of us could have done it. If you spent your childhood doodling on blue lined paper, you know exactly what I mean. This wasn't work, it was play.
Yesterday morning I received an email from the folks at Goodman Games, offering more work. Was I free to write another module under a tighter deadline? Darn tootin'!
So yes, it is good that we get our work in on time. And yes, most companies are very deadline oriented. And yes, we should all try to lower Archer's blood pressure. But there is a flip side: get your work done on time, be a low maintenance author, and maybe they'll come back looking for more.
That's what were shooting for.
"Iron Crypt of the Heretic." Look for it soon. ;)
=====
Yelrah: the AntiBlog
You have to be pretty arrogant and insensitive to post about sales (let alone two in a row!). Who is this chump? Meanwhile, the rest of us slave night after night, beating on the door, filling railroad spikes with rejection letters, just trying to get a hit.
You people are too polite to say it, so let me put it out in the open: this Grimbones/Harley is a lousy writer, he can't edit to save his life, and he isn't particularly creative.
And these modules? He calls that writing? Last I checked using cut and paste to pile up stat blocks didn't count as writing. Of course it is easy. A monkey could do this, and probably write better traps. Grimbones/Harley just happened to be bumbling along when there was an opening. 999 monkeys missed the hole, the thousandth monkey fell in.
That's it. No particular skill (he still doesn't own any 3.5 rule books). No particular talent (I can count the number of errors in his blog, but then I run out of fingers AND toes). No particular dedication (he's gotten really good at Tony Hawk ProSkater). And apparently he hasn't learned to use spell check yet.
And then to presume he has something to offer the rest of us? Please.
This industry isn't fair. We all know that. You are all better writers than him. We all know that, too. Expecting us to sit by and watch this nobody give sermons about writing is asking too much.
Just my two cents. But that's 1 cent more than this guy has to offer.
We've all know that no matter what, we have to have our work done on time.
Wizards makes it clear that they are "very deadline driven," Elaine's blog has lauded the virtues of being a "low maintenance author," and there is even an article on the Wizards site about how not to blow deadlines.
Okay, cool, we get it. Writing is the balance of art, craft and business. Be prompt, rock and roll.
But there is another good reason to be on time ....
Over the last two months I wrote a d20 module for Goodman Games. It wasn't literature, but it was fun, easy writing, the sort of work I dreamed about doing as a geeky kid. I beat the deadline by a month, and when the revisions came back, I beat that deadline by a month.
Any of us could have done it. If you spent your childhood doodling on blue lined paper, you know exactly what I mean. This wasn't work, it was play.
Yesterday morning I received an email from the folks at Goodman Games, offering more work. Was I free to write another module under a tighter deadline? Darn tootin'!
So yes, it is good that we get our work in on time. And yes, most companies are very deadline oriented. And yes, we should all try to lower Archer's blood pressure. But there is a flip side: get your work done on time, be a low maintenance author, and maybe they'll come back looking for more.
That's what were shooting for.
"Iron Crypt of the Heretic." Look for it soon. ;)
=====
Yelrah: the AntiBlog
You have to be pretty arrogant and insensitive to post about sales (let alone two in a row!). Who is this chump? Meanwhile, the rest of us slave night after night, beating on the door, filling railroad spikes with rejection letters, just trying to get a hit.
You people are too polite to say it, so let me put it out in the open: this Grimbones/Harley is a lousy writer, he can't edit to save his life, and he isn't particularly creative.
And these modules? He calls that writing? Last I checked using cut and paste to pile up stat blocks didn't count as writing. Of course it is easy. A monkey could do this, and probably write better traps. Grimbones/Harley just happened to be bumbling along when there was an opening. 999 monkeys missed the hole, the thousandth monkey fell in.
That's it. No particular skill (he still doesn't own any 3.5 rule books). No particular talent (I can count the number of errors in his blog, but then I run out of fingers AND toes). No particular dedication (he's gotten really good at Tony Hawk ProSkater). And apparently he hasn't learned to use spell check yet.
And then to presume he has something to offer the rest of us? Please.
This industry isn't fair. We all know that. You are all better writers than him. We all know that, too. Expecting us to sit by and watch this nobody give sermons about writing is asking too much.
Just my two cents. But that's 1 cent more than this guy has to offer.
11.19.2004
"Hello, is Naivete there?"
"Speaking."
Recently I was offered the chance to write a fantasy serial. The project is fairly open ended, as I've been given the green light for as many words as I can type by the end of December. The gig might still fall through if my writing isn't up to spec, but for right now I'm excited and optimistic. My last few projects have all come in over word count, forcing me to go back and trim (and in some cases amputate) entire sections, so having the room to breath is refreshing.
As projected, it should come out to be somewhere between 20k to 30k words in length. Just big enough to feel like an accomplishment, but not TOO big, especially when the love of your life is in another part of the world, and your main pastime is falling down on concrete late at night.
Preparing for the work has me flipping through all the 1st Ed book, especially the old "Dungeon Master's Guide." It has left me with a new appreciation for the sheer amount of information that was compiled by Mr. Gygax and Co. Twenty-thousand words? That was nothing. He has chapters that are 20,000 words long.
The name of gems? In there. How about titles for Northern European rulers? In there too. Along with all that stuff pertaining to actually playing the game. Amazing.
So to all the folks that came before us and made a niche for stories about point-eared people and midgets, thank you.
I'm having a blast.
P.S. I would be remiss if I didn't add that people have been telling stories about elves and whatnot for ages. In the next few years I'd like to read enough to develop a sense of context for all these fae and goblins. Can anyone recommend any good titles?
"Speaking."
Recently I was offered the chance to write a fantasy serial. The project is fairly open ended, as I've been given the green light for as many words as I can type by the end of December. The gig might still fall through if my writing isn't up to spec, but for right now I'm excited and optimistic. My last few projects have all come in over word count, forcing me to go back and trim (and in some cases amputate) entire sections, so having the room to breath is refreshing.
As projected, it should come out to be somewhere between 20k to 30k words in length. Just big enough to feel like an accomplishment, but not TOO big, especially when the love of your life is in another part of the world, and your main pastime is falling down on concrete late at night.
Preparing for the work has me flipping through all the 1st Ed book, especially the old "Dungeon Master's Guide." It has left me with a new appreciation for the sheer amount of information that was compiled by Mr. Gygax and Co. Twenty-thousand words? That was nothing. He has chapters that are 20,000 words long.
The name of gems? In there. How about titles for Northern European rulers? In there too. Along with all that stuff pertaining to actually playing the game. Amazing.
So to all the folks that came before us and made a niche for stories about point-eared people and midgets, thank you.
I'm having a blast.
P.S. I would be remiss if I didn't add that people have been telling stories about elves and whatnot for ages. In the next few years I'd like to read enough to develop a sense of context for all these fae and goblins. Can anyone recommend any good titles?
11.16.2004
Zeitgeist!
(Bless you.)
So the hard working folks over at Zeitgeist Games are accepting submissions for their new Blackmoor line. "New" is a bit of a misnomer, since Arneson's campaign world was kicking around before D&D was a game system. This lends Blackmoor certain old school sensibilities that makes the world familiar and exotic all at once.
Stop in a check them out.
(Bless you.)
So the hard working folks over at Zeitgeist Games are accepting submissions for their new Blackmoor line. "New" is a bit of a misnomer, since Arneson's campaign world was kicking around before D&D was a game system. This lends Blackmoor certain old school sensibilities that makes the world familiar and exotic all at once.
Stop in a check them out.
11.12.2004
Ending on a High Note
My friend and yours, Chris McCoy, has two articles in the latest Silven Trumpeter. Go check it out. As a bonus, one is an interview of Elaine Cunningham!
My friend and yours, Chris McCoy, has two articles in the latest Silven Trumpeter. Go check it out. As a bonus, one is an interview of Elaine Cunningham!
11.10.2004
Putting Down the Pen
Let's just be up front about this: I'm nobody. My advice is no more relevant than the next stranger's.
Now that the disclaimer is out of the way, let me give this "no more relevant than the next" piece of advice: Submit.
To everyone.
To new companies, old companies, to anyone with a mailing address that accepts unsolicited submissions.
Our chosen field is cutthroat, but at this very moment there are more opportunities to get paid for writing than ever before in the history of the written word.*
Sometimes it can seem that it is impossible to succeed at this trade. Sometimes it seems that everywhere you turn you find corpses of failed would be writers.
But maybe they all gave up just a day early. Maybe if they had held on another day, another month, or another year, they would have made that lunge that separates the published from the perished.
I don't know if this is true. I can't prove that you'll sell stories in the end. But you can't prove the inverse either, and given the choice between two unproven theories, why not believe the hopeful one?
I know how you feel when you get 18 rejections in a row. I know how you feel when you devote years of your life to a manuscript that turns out to trash. I know how you feel when everyone else's name is on the marquee, except for yours.
Please, as one writer to another: hold on. Keep punching keys. Be your own greatest fan, and your own harshest critic. When no one else will touch your work, YOU have to believe it has potential. When your friends all say it is brilliant YOU have to the one looking for the flaws.
If I have learned anything this year, it is this: hang on, just one more day.
*I'm making that part up, but I think it is true.
Let's just be up front about this: I'm nobody. My advice is no more relevant than the next stranger's.
Now that the disclaimer is out of the way, let me give this "no more relevant than the next" piece of advice: Submit.
To everyone.
To new companies, old companies, to anyone with a mailing address that accepts unsolicited submissions.
Our chosen field is cutthroat, but at this very moment there are more opportunities to get paid for writing than ever before in the history of the written word.*
Sometimes it can seem that it is impossible to succeed at this trade. Sometimes it seems that everywhere you turn you find corpses of failed would be writers.
But maybe they all gave up just a day early. Maybe if they had held on another day, another month, or another year, they would have made that lunge that separates the published from the perished.
I don't know if this is true. I can't prove that you'll sell stories in the end. But you can't prove the inverse either, and given the choice between two unproven theories, why not believe the hopeful one?
I know how you feel when you get 18 rejections in a row. I know how you feel when you devote years of your life to a manuscript that turns out to trash. I know how you feel when everyone else's name is on the marquee, except for yours.
Please, as one writer to another: hold on. Keep punching keys. Be your own greatest fan, and your own harshest critic. When no one else will touch your work, YOU have to believe it has potential. When your friends all say it is brilliant YOU have to the one looking for the flaws.
If I have learned anything this year, it is this: hang on, just one more day.
*I'm making that part up, but I think it is true.
11.03.2004
Dead Can Dance
... but they sure do sweat.
Courtesy of Ed and Lara Photography.
All those assumptions about elegant masked balls? They're wrong. People dancing in masks end up dripping with perspiration. :):):)
... but they sure do sweat.
Courtesy of Ed and Lara Photography.
All those assumptions about elegant masked balls? They're wrong. People dancing in masks end up dripping with perspiration. :):):)
11.01.2004
Must be the Season of the Witch
It is always an enormous joy and honor to attend a wedding. An honor: to be in attendance when a couple makes public their declaration of love; and a joy: to be reminded of our own loves and commitments. Just as a funeral can be seen as ritual for the living and not the deceased, so too can a wedding be a gift to the attendants from the bride and groom.
That comparison may seem a little dark, but Jeff and Marisa threw a Halloween-themed masquerade, complete with a Jack Skellington and Sally cake, a masked ball, and renaissance gala. Jeff and Marisa carried themselves with grace and poise throughout the evening, smoothly integrating the different groups of friends and families, translating for those of us that don't speak Italian (or was it Spanish?), and absorbing the stress of a masquerade, bi-lingual, fantasy, Halloween wedding.
I had the opportunity to meet some of the great folks that stop in to Choose Death from time to time. An internet-deprived Josh Wentz was in attendance as a best man, Lara and Ed came in from Indiana, we all had a chance to dance with the talented ladies of the Five Wits, and of course, actually meet the bride and groom.
It is always an enormous joy and honor to attend a wedding. An honor: to be in attendance when a couple makes public their declaration of love; and a joy: to be reminded of our own loves and commitments. Just as a funeral can be seen as ritual for the living and not the deceased, so too can a wedding be a gift to the attendants from the bride and groom.
That comparison may seem a little dark, but Jeff and Marisa threw a Halloween-themed masquerade, complete with a Jack Skellington and Sally cake, a masked ball, and renaissance gala. Jeff and Marisa carried themselves with grace and poise throughout the evening, smoothly integrating the different groups of friends and families, translating for those of us that don't speak Italian (or was it Spanish?), and absorbing the stress of a masquerade, bi-lingual, fantasy, Halloween wedding.
I had the opportunity to meet some of the great folks that stop in to Choose Death from time to time. An internet-deprived Josh Wentz was in attendance as a best man, Lara and Ed came in from Indiana, we all had a chance to dance with the talented ladies of the Five Wits, and of course, actually meet the bride and groom.
Quite the social watershed, considering I've only exchanged email with this entire crowd. We live in amazing times.
We finished the evening as darkness fell upon West Point, strains of Argentinian-techno (!?) fading into the rustle of autumn leaves. A late-night run across 3 states gave me the chance to pull all the mental faculties back together, and to appreciate what it means to have wedding in a season of coming darkness.
Thank you, Jeff and Marisa, for having us, and I hope to see you all again soon. Blessings on your union.
10.29.2004
Drop and Go,
and Some Sloppy Comparative Literature
Last night was dedicated to getting the DCC ready for submission and reviewing Athans' edits of my story. Both should be in the mail this afternoon, and then I'll be free to concentrate on Jeff's wedding.
An interesting benefit of Athans' edits is that my story was subtly "Wizardized." I'm a fan of shorter, clipped sentences, but that is just my style. Reading Athans' edits (and I'm sure there were many), the only ones I really noticed were the ones that changed the tempo of the sentence.
I'd be reading and find myself thinking, "Boy, why didn't I make that two sentences?" Silly, boy --- you did!
But all of this is fine. Athans knows what he is doing. Realizing the disparity between my style and more "Wizardish" writing, I'm thankful that they considered my submission at all.
Before I spark a flame war, let me point out that all Wizards stories and novels, are NOT alike*. It is just that some of my edges and corners needed to sanded down a bit. There are still enough clipped, hard sentences in the story to make me happy. :)
In many ways, your writing style is like your taste in music. Interestingly, I go for hip-hop, punk and old goth; all music with short, hard beats. I'm sure many of you have tastes. It doesn't make my music better or worse, just different.
Similarly, your taste in writing might lean towards lush, evocative sentences, leaving you disappointed after reading my works. Again, just different tastes.
One might be tempted to argue that one style of writing (or music) is better than another, but this is a difficult argument to make. What can be evaluated is how well a work of writing (or music) achieves its intended purpose. Don't fault Ice-T for his failure to match up to Beethoven, the two were working towards different ends. If you want to argue that one has more artistic merit than the other, that is fine, but first you need establish your terms. "Artistic merit" has meant different things to different cultures since when we first started painting hand prints on cave walls.
In the end I'm left with a sense that a work of art can't be evaluated outside of the context in which it is viewed.
To wit: I'm driving down to New York this weekend. I need to be able to drive back late-late Sunday night, and not fall asleep on the freeway.
I need music for the drive, and you know it's not going to be classical music. :)
*I haven't read enough recent WotC novels to speak with authority on this subject, so feel free to set me right.
and Some Sloppy Comparative Literature
Last night was dedicated to getting the DCC ready for submission and reviewing Athans' edits of my story. Both should be in the mail this afternoon, and then I'll be free to concentrate on Jeff's wedding.
An interesting benefit of Athans' edits is that my story was subtly "Wizardized." I'm a fan of shorter, clipped sentences, but that is just my style. Reading Athans' edits (and I'm sure there were many), the only ones I really noticed were the ones that changed the tempo of the sentence.
I'd be reading and find myself thinking, "Boy, why didn't I make that two sentences?" Silly, boy --- you did!
But all of this is fine. Athans knows what he is doing. Realizing the disparity between my style and more "Wizardish" writing, I'm thankful that they considered my submission at all.
Before I spark a flame war, let me point out that all Wizards stories and novels, are NOT alike*. It is just that some of my edges and corners needed to sanded down a bit. There are still enough clipped, hard sentences in the story to make me happy. :)
In many ways, your writing style is like your taste in music. Interestingly, I go for hip-hop, punk and old goth; all music with short, hard beats. I'm sure many of you have tastes. It doesn't make my music better or worse, just different.
Similarly, your taste in writing might lean towards lush, evocative sentences, leaving you disappointed after reading my works. Again, just different tastes.
One might be tempted to argue that one style of writing (or music) is better than another, but this is a difficult argument to make. What can be evaluated is how well a work of writing (or music) achieves its intended purpose. Don't fault Ice-T for his failure to match up to Beethoven, the two were working towards different ends. If you want to argue that one has more artistic merit than the other, that is fine, but first you need establish your terms. "Artistic merit" has meant different things to different cultures since when we first started painting hand prints on cave walls.
In the end I'm left with a sense that a work of art can't be evaluated outside of the context in which it is viewed.
To wit: I'm driving down to New York this weekend. I need to be able to drive back late-late Sunday night, and not fall asleep on the freeway.
I need music for the drive, and you know it's not going to be classical music. :)
*I haven't read enough recent WotC novels to speak with authority on this subject, so feel free to set me right.
10.28.2004
Overnight Letter from Wizards
A contract for a book? I wish. Instead, just the final proofs for the RotDII story.
If you guys read it, you're going to laugh. My friends find me painfully predictable and I suspect you will too.
Anybody heard any news on Eb? I'm starting to develop mail box psychosis again.
A contract for a book? I wish. Instead, just the final proofs for the RotDII story.
If you guys read it, you're going to laugh. My friends find me painfully predictable and I suspect you will too.
Anybody heard any news on Eb? I'm starting to develop mail box psychosis again.
10.26.2004
Sweaty Kobolds and other Edits
I know this mirrors the last post, but I have to thank the Knights of the Patio again. They did a great job editing my DCC. My favorite edit? Chris making they point that if kobolds are reptilian in nature, then they probably don't sweat.
Makes perfect sense, but it is one of those details that is easy to miss. So thank you guys, once more.
West Point: Fair Warning
I have the privilege of attending Ashlock's West Point wedding this weekend. It is the opportunity of a lifetime; I'll probably never have cause to go to West Point again, and certainly not to a wedding. I'm headed down to New York the night before to carouse with Gentry, Lara and Jeff, so I'll be sleeping over in New York.
One catch. I sleep walk.
A lot.
Sleep walking is actually a pretty mild description. It is more accurate to say that I run around at night, naked, screaming and fighting off dark spiders, in my sleep. Especially when I'm sleeping in strange and new places.
Often I'm not dreaming so much as seeing a fantastic overlay placed atop reality. This allows me to interact with people, check that I'm "awake," and move around in reality, all the while seeing nebulous black spider things running around.
It gets tricky when I get into arguments with people about what is happening; I can see the dead person that was just hit by a truck, so why won't Persons X & Y help me get the person out of the road? I become angry and anguished because Persons X & Y don't appreciate the severity of the situation, refusing to help the person I see dead/dying.
I wake up the next morning, exhausted, despite having ostensibly slept all night long. :)
It isn't necessary to list all my sleep walking adventures right now, but here is one that illustrates the "reality overlay feature" of my sleeping state:
Harley, age 12. I'm sleeping atop a bunk bed in a mobile home. I fall asleep and begin dreaming that I'm in a trapped room, complete with the crushing ceiling. Harley finds himself in "reality" and sure enough, the ceiling is coming down to crush me. (Remember, I'm on the top bunk).
So I summon all my strength and try to push back the ceiling. My feet punch through the crappy mobile home drywall, but the ceiling is still coming closer and closer.
If you were raised on D&D and Indiana Jones, you know that there is only one thing to do .
You go out the window.
So I go out the window.
Amid the shards of falling glass I hear my father yelling at me, which is finally what really wakes me up.
So, Jeff, Ed and Lara: here's hoping to a restful weekend. And if not, let's hope it is exciting.
I know this mirrors the last post, but I have to thank the Knights of the Patio again. They did a great job editing my DCC. My favorite edit? Chris making they point that if kobolds are reptilian in nature, then they probably don't sweat.
Makes perfect sense, but it is one of those details that is easy to miss. So thank you guys, once more.
West Point: Fair Warning
I have the privilege of attending Ashlock's West Point wedding this weekend. It is the opportunity of a lifetime; I'll probably never have cause to go to West Point again, and certainly not to a wedding. I'm headed down to New York the night before to carouse with Gentry, Lara and Jeff, so I'll be sleeping over in New York.
One catch. I sleep walk.
A lot.
Sleep walking is actually a pretty mild description. It is more accurate to say that I run around at night, naked, screaming and fighting off dark spiders, in my sleep. Especially when I'm sleeping in strange and new places.
Often I'm not dreaming so much as seeing a fantastic overlay placed atop reality. This allows me to interact with people, check that I'm "awake," and move around in reality, all the while seeing nebulous black spider things running around.
It gets tricky when I get into arguments with people about what is happening; I can see the dead person that was just hit by a truck, so why won't Persons X & Y help me get the person out of the road? I become angry and anguished because Persons X & Y don't appreciate the severity of the situation, refusing to help the person I see dead/dying.
I wake up the next morning, exhausted, despite having ostensibly slept all night long. :)
It isn't necessary to list all my sleep walking adventures right now, but here is one that illustrates the "reality overlay feature" of my sleeping state:
Harley, age 12. I'm sleeping atop a bunk bed in a mobile home. I fall asleep and begin dreaming that I'm in a trapped room, complete with the crushing ceiling. Harley finds himself in "reality" and sure enough, the ceiling is coming down to crush me. (Remember, I'm on the top bunk).
So I summon all my strength and try to push back the ceiling. My feet punch through the crappy mobile home drywall, but the ceiling is still coming closer and closer.
If you were raised on D&D and Indiana Jones, you know that there is only one thing to do .
You go out the window.
So I go out the window.
Amid the shards of falling glass I hear my father yelling at me, which is finally what really wakes me up.
So, Jeff, Ed and Lara: here's hoping to a restful weekend. And if not, let's hope it is exciting.
10.22.2004
A Big, Deathy Thank You ...
to Chris McCoy and the Knights of the Patio.
They were gracious enough to playtest my DCC, working out all the kinks and errors.
Even better, they did it quickly, putting their own games on hold to help me out. Thank you, one and all, for the help. (Where is the animated worship smiley when you need it?)
to Chris McCoy and the Knights of the Patio.
They were gracious enough to playtest my DCC, working out all the kinks and errors.
Even better, they did it quickly, putting their own games on hold to help me out. Thank you, one and all, for the help. (Where is the animated worship smiley when you need it?)
Insufferably Sappy Moment #219
H likes to read in bed every night, but she can’t be horizontal for more than 15 minutes before nodding off. So she ends every day fast asleep with a book resting securely on her the bridge of her nose.
Being the late night writer, it’s my job to remove said book, her glasses and tuck the gal in.
I sure do miss my job.
H likes to read in bed every night, but she can’t be horizontal for more than 15 minutes before nodding off. So she ends every day fast asleep with a book resting securely on her the bridge of her nose.
Being the late night writer, it’s my job to remove said book, her glasses and tuck the gal in.
I sure do miss my job.
10.21.2004
When the In-Laws ask, "What do you do?"
Every year, about this time, I start to worry that I should be contributing more to my community and the world. In a world seemingly filled with war, hunger and dispair, what right do I have to spend precious, finite resources writing about elves and orcs? Elaine Cunningham saved my sanity last year, noting that right after shelter and food, comes the need to tell (and be told) stories. This year it is Neal Stephenson.
The following article is a lighthearted examination of the differences between literary and popular fiction. The entire article can be found here.
=====
Q. Science Fiction is normally relegated to the specialist publications rather than having reviews in the main stream press. Seen as "fringe" and a bit sad its seldom reviewed with anything more than condescension by the "quality" press. Does it bother you that people like Jeffery Archer or Jackie Collins seem to get more respect for their writing than you ?
--MosesJones
Neal:OUCH! (removes mirrorshades, wipes tears, blows nose, composes self).
Let me just come at this one from sort of a big picture point of view. First of all, I don't think that the condescending "quality" press look too kindly on Jackie Collins and Jeffrey Archer. So I disagree with the premise of the last sentence of this question and I'm not going to address it.
Instead I'm going to answer what I think MosesJones is really getting at, which is why SF and other genre and popular writers don't seem to get a lot of respect from the literary world. To set it up, a brief anecdote: a while back, I went to a writers' conference. I was making chitchat with another writer, a critically acclaimed literary novelist who taught at a university. She had never heard of me.
After we'd exchanged a bit of of small talk, she asked me "And where do you teach?" just as naturally as one Slashdotter would ask another "And which distro do you use?" I was taken aback.
"I don't teach anywhere," I said.
Her turn to be taken aback.
"Then what do you do?"
"I'm...a writer," I said. Which admittedly was a stupid thing to say, since she already knew that.
"Yes, but what do you do?"
I couldn't think of how to answer the question---I'd already answered it!
"You can't make a living out of being a writer, so how do you make money?" she tried.
"From...being a writer," I stammered.
At this point she finally got it, and her whole affect changed. She wasn't snobbish about it. But it was obvious that, in her mind, the sort of writer who actually made a living from it was an entirely different creature from the sort she generally associated with. And once I got over the excruciating awkwardness of this conversation, I began to think she was right in thinking so.
One way to classify artists is by to whom they are accountable. The great artists of the Italian Renaissance were accountable to wealthy entities who became their patrons or gave them commissions. In many cases there was no other way to arrange it. There is only one Sistine Chapel. Not just anyone could walk in and start daubing paint on the ceiling. Someone had to be the gatekeeper---to hire an artist and give him a set of more or less restrictive limits within which he was allowed to be creative. So the artist was, in the end, accountable to the Church. The Church's goal was to build a magnificent structure that would stand there forever and provide inspiration to the Christians who walked into it, and they had to make sure that Michelangelo would carry out his work accordingly.
Similar arrangements were made by writers. After Dante was banished from Florence he found a patron in the Prince of Verona, for example. And if you look at many old books of the Baroque period you find the opening pages filled with florid expressions of gratitude from the authors to their patrons. It's the same as in a modern book when it says "this work was supported by a grant from the XYZ Foundation." Nowadays we have different ways of supporting artists. Some painters, for example, make a living selling their work to wealthy collectors. In other cases, musicians or artists will find appointments at universities or other cultural institutions. But in both such cases there is a kind of accountability at work. A wealthy art collector who pays a lot of money for a painting does not like to see his money evaporate. He wants to feel some confidence that if he or an heir decides to sell the painting later, they'll be able to get an amount of money that is at least in the same ballpark. But that price is going to be set by the market---it depends on the perceived value of the painting in the art world. And that in turn is a function of how the artist is esteemed by critics and by other collectors. So art criticism does two things at once: it's culture, but it's also economics. There is also a kind of accountability in the case of, say, a composer who has a faculty job at a university. The trustees of the university have got a fiduciary responsibility not to throw away money. It's not the same as hiring a laborer in factory, whose output can be easily reduced to dollars and cents. Rather, the trustees have to justify the composer's salary by pointing to intangibles. And one of those intangibles is the degree of respect accorded that composer by critics, musicians, and other experts in the field: how often his works are performed by symphony orchestras, for example. Accountability in the writing profession has been bifurcated for many centuries.
I already mentioned that Dante and other writers were supported by patrons at least as far back as the Renaissance. But I doubt that Beowulf was written on commission. Probably there was a collection of legends and tales that had been passed along in an oral tradition---which is just a fancy way of saying that lots of people liked those stories and wanted to hear them told. And at some point perhaps there was an especially well-liked storyteller who pulled a few such tales together and fashioned them into the what we now know as Beowulf. Maybe there was a king or other wealthy patron who then caused the tale to be written down by a scribe. But I doubt it was created at the behest of a king. It was created at the behest of lots and lots of intoxicated Frisians sitting around the fire wanting to hear a yarn. And there was no grand purpose behind its creation, as there was with the painting of the Sistine Chapel.
The novel is a very new form of art. It was unthinkable until the invention of printing and impractical until a significant fraction of the population became literate. But when the conditions were right, it suddenly became huge. The great serialized novelists of the 19th Century were like rock stars or movie stars. The printing press and the apparatus of publishing had given these creators a means to bypass traditional arbiters and gatekeepers of culture and connect directly to a mass audience. And the economics worked out such that they didn't need to land a commission or find a patron in order to put bread on the table. The creators of those novels were therefore able to have a connection with a mass audience and a livelihood fundamentally different from other types of artists. Nowadays, rock stars and movie stars are making all the money. But the publishing industry still works for some lucky novelists who find a way to establish a connection with a readership sufficiently large to put bread on their tables. It's conventional to refer to these as "commercial" novelists, but I hate that term, so I'm going to call them Beowulf writers. But this is not true for a great many other writers who are every bit as talented and worthy of finding readers. And so, in addition, we have got an alternate system that makes it possible for those writers to pursue their careers and make their voices heard. Just as Renaissance princes supported writers like Dante because they felt it was the right thing to do, there are many affluent persons in modern society who, by making donations to cultural institutions like universities, support all sorts of artists, including writers. Usually they are called "literary" as opposed to "commercial" but I hate that term too, so I'm going to call them Dante writers. And this is what I mean when I speak of a bifurcated system.
Like all tricks for dividing people into two groups, this is simplistic, and needs to be taken with a grain of salt. But there is a cultural difference between these two types of writers, rooted in to whom they are accountable, and it explains what MosesJones is complaining about. Beowulf writers and Dante writers appear to have the same job, but in fact there is a quite radical difference between them---hence the odd conversation that I had with my fellow author at the writer's conference. Because she'd never heard of me, she made the quite reasonable assumption that I was a Dante writer---one so new or obscure that she'd never seen me mentioned in a journal of literary criticism, and never bumped into me at a conference. Therefore, I couldn't be making any money at it. Therefore, I was most likely teaching somewhere. All perfectly logical.
In order to set her straight, I had to let her know that the reason she'd never heard of me was because I was famous.
All of this places someone like me in critical limbo. As everyone knows, there are literary critics, and journals that publish their work, and I imagine they have the same dual role as art critics. That is, they are engaging in intellectual discourse for its own sake. But they are also performing an economic function by making judgments. These judgments, taken collectively, eventually determine who's deemed worthy of receiving fellowships, teaching appointments, etc. The relationship between that critical apparatus and Beowulf writers is famously awkward and leads to all sorts of peculiar misunderstandings.
Occasionally I'll take a hit from a critic for being somehow arrogant or egomaniacal, which is difficult to understand from my point of view sitting here and just trying to write about whatever I find interesting. To begin with, it's not clear why they think I'm any more arrogant than anyone else who writes a book and actually expects that someone's going to read it. Secondly, I don't understand why they think that this is relevant enough to rate mention in a review. After all, if I'm going to eat at a restaurant, I don't care about the chef's personality flaws---I just want to eat good food. I was slagged for entitling my latest book "The System of the World" by one critic who found that title arrogant. That criticism is simply wrong; the critic has completely misunderstood why I chose that title. Why on earth would anyone think it was arrogant? Well, on the Dante side of the bifurcation it's implicit that authority comes from the top down, and you need to get in the habit of deferring to people who are older and grander than you. In that world, apparently one must never select a grand-sounding title for one's book until one has reached Nobel Prize status. But on my side, if I'm trying to write a book about a bunch of historical figures who were consciously trying to understand and invent the System of the World, then this is an obvious choice for the title of the book.
The same argument, I believe, explains why the accusation of having a big ego is considered relevant for inclusion in a book review. Considering the economic function of these reviews (explained above) it is worth pointing out which writers are and are not suited for participating in the somewhat hierarchical and political community of Dante writers. Egomaniacs would only create trouble. Mind you, much of the authority and seniority in that world is benevolent, or at least well-intentioned. If you are trying to become a writer by taking expensive classes in that subject, you want your teacher to know more about it than you and to behave like a teacher. And so you might hear advice along the lines of "I don't think you're ready to tackle Y yet, you need to spend a few more years honing your skills with X" and the like. All perfectly reasonable. But people on the Beowulf side may never have taken a writing class in their life. They just tend to lunge at whatever looks interesting to them, write whatever they please, and let the chips fall where they may. So we may seem not merely arrogant, but completely unhinged. It reminds me somewhat of the split between Christians and Faeries depicted in Susannah Clarke's wonderful book "Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell." The faeries do whatever they want and strike the Christians (humans) as ludicrously irresponsible and "barely sane." They don't seem to deserve or appreciate their freedom.
Later at the writer's conference, I introduced myself to someone who was responsible for organizing it, and she looked at me keenly and said, "Ah, yes, you're the one who's going to bring in our males 18-32." And sure enough, when we got to the venue, there were the males 18-32, looking quite out of place compared to the baseline lit-festival crowd. They stood at long lines at the microphones and asked me one question after another while ignoring the Dante writers sitting at the table with me. Some of the males 18-32 were so out of place that they seemed to have warped in from the Land of Faerie, and had the organizers wondering whether they should summon the police. But in the end they were more or less reasonable people who just wanted to talk about books and were as mystified by the literary people as the literary people were by them.
In the same vein, I just got back from the National Book Festival on the Capitol Mall in D.C., where I crossed paths for a few minutes with Neil Gaiman. This was another event in which Beowulf writers and Dante writers were all mixed together. The organizers had queues set up in front of signing tables. Neil had mentioned on his blog that he was going to be there, and so hundreds, maybe thousands of his readers had showed up there as early as 5:30 a.m. to get stuff signed. The organizers simply had not anticipated this and so---very much to their credit---they had to make all sorts of last-minute rearrangements to accomodate the crowd. Neil spent many hours signing.
As he says on his blog http://www.neilgaiman.com/journal/journal.asp the Washington Post later said he did this because he was a "savvy businessman." Of course Neil was actually doing it to be polite; but even simple politeness to one's fans can seem grasping and cynical when viewed from the other side.
Because of such reactions, I know that certain people are going to read this screed as further evidence that I have a big head. But let me make at least a token effort to deflect this by stipulating that the system I am describing here IS NOT FAIR and that IT MAKES NO SENSE and that I don't deserve to have the freedom that is accorded a Beowulf writer when many talented and excellent writers---some of them good friends of mine---end up selling small numbers of books and having to cultivate grants, fellowships, faculty appointments, etc.
Anyway, most Beowulf writing is ignored by the critical apparatus or lightly made fun of when it's noticed at all. Literary critics know perfectly well that nothing they say is likely to have much effect on sales. Let's face it, when Neil Gaiman publishes Anansi Boys, all of his readers are going to know about it through his site and most of them are going to buy it and none of them is likely to see a review in the New York Review of Books, or care what that review says. So what of MosesJones's original question, which was entitled "The lack of respect?" My answer is that I don't pay that much notice to these things because I am aware at some level that I am on one side of the bifurcation and most literary critics are on the other, and we simply are not that relevant to each other's lives and careers.
What is most interesting to me is when people make efforts to "route around" the apparatus of literary criticism and publish their thoughts about books in place where you wouldn't normally look for book reviews. For example, a year ago there was a piece by Edward Rothstein in the New York Times about Quicksilver that appears to have been a sort of wildcat review. He just got interested in the book and decided to write about it, independent of the New York Times's normal book-reviewing apparatus. It is not the first time such a thing has happened with one of my books. It has happened many times in history that new systems will come along and, instead of obliterating the old, will surround and encapsulate them and work in symbiosis with them but otherwise pretty much leave them alone (think mitochondria) and sometimes I get the feeling that something similar is happening with these two literary worlds. The fact that we are having a discussion like this one on a forum such as Slashdot is Exhibit A.
=====
Mr. Stephenson is the author many fine novels, including Cryptonomicon, Snow Crash, and The Diamond Age.
Every year, about this time, I start to worry that I should be contributing more to my community and the world. In a world seemingly filled with war, hunger and dispair, what right do I have to spend precious, finite resources writing about elves and orcs? Elaine Cunningham saved my sanity last year, noting that right after shelter and food, comes the need to tell (and be told) stories. This year it is Neal Stephenson.
The following article is a lighthearted examination of the differences between literary and popular fiction. The entire article can be found here.
=====
Q. Science Fiction is normally relegated to the specialist publications rather than having reviews in the main stream press. Seen as "fringe" and a bit sad its seldom reviewed with anything more than condescension by the "quality" press. Does it bother you that people like Jeffery Archer or Jackie Collins seem to get more respect for their writing than you ?
--MosesJones
Neal:OUCH! (removes mirrorshades, wipes tears, blows nose, composes self).
Let me just come at this one from sort of a big picture point of view. First of all, I don't think that the condescending "quality" press look too kindly on Jackie Collins and Jeffrey Archer. So I disagree with the premise of the last sentence of this question and I'm not going to address it.
Instead I'm going to answer what I think MosesJones is really getting at, which is why SF and other genre and popular writers don't seem to get a lot of respect from the literary world. To set it up, a brief anecdote: a while back, I went to a writers' conference. I was making chitchat with another writer, a critically acclaimed literary novelist who taught at a university. She had never heard of me.
After we'd exchanged a bit of of small talk, she asked me "And where do you teach?" just as naturally as one Slashdotter would ask another "And which distro do you use?" I was taken aback.
"I don't teach anywhere," I said.
Her turn to be taken aback.
"Then what do you do?"
"I'm...a writer," I said. Which admittedly was a stupid thing to say, since she already knew that.
"Yes, but what do you do?"
I couldn't think of how to answer the question---I'd already answered it!
"You can't make a living out of being a writer, so how do you make money?" she tried.
"From...being a writer," I stammered.
At this point she finally got it, and her whole affect changed. She wasn't snobbish about it. But it was obvious that, in her mind, the sort of writer who actually made a living from it was an entirely different creature from the sort she generally associated with. And once I got over the excruciating awkwardness of this conversation, I began to think she was right in thinking so.
One way to classify artists is by to whom they are accountable. The great artists of the Italian Renaissance were accountable to wealthy entities who became their patrons or gave them commissions. In many cases there was no other way to arrange it. There is only one Sistine Chapel. Not just anyone could walk in and start daubing paint on the ceiling. Someone had to be the gatekeeper---to hire an artist and give him a set of more or less restrictive limits within which he was allowed to be creative. So the artist was, in the end, accountable to the Church. The Church's goal was to build a magnificent structure that would stand there forever and provide inspiration to the Christians who walked into it, and they had to make sure that Michelangelo would carry out his work accordingly.
Similar arrangements were made by writers. After Dante was banished from Florence he found a patron in the Prince of Verona, for example. And if you look at many old books of the Baroque period you find the opening pages filled with florid expressions of gratitude from the authors to their patrons. It's the same as in a modern book when it says "this work was supported by a grant from the XYZ Foundation." Nowadays we have different ways of supporting artists. Some painters, for example, make a living selling their work to wealthy collectors. In other cases, musicians or artists will find appointments at universities or other cultural institutions. But in both such cases there is a kind of accountability at work. A wealthy art collector who pays a lot of money for a painting does not like to see his money evaporate. He wants to feel some confidence that if he or an heir decides to sell the painting later, they'll be able to get an amount of money that is at least in the same ballpark. But that price is going to be set by the market---it depends on the perceived value of the painting in the art world. And that in turn is a function of how the artist is esteemed by critics and by other collectors. So art criticism does two things at once: it's culture, but it's also economics. There is also a kind of accountability in the case of, say, a composer who has a faculty job at a university. The trustees of the university have got a fiduciary responsibility not to throw away money. It's not the same as hiring a laborer in factory, whose output can be easily reduced to dollars and cents. Rather, the trustees have to justify the composer's salary by pointing to intangibles. And one of those intangibles is the degree of respect accorded that composer by critics, musicians, and other experts in the field: how often his works are performed by symphony orchestras, for example. Accountability in the writing profession has been bifurcated for many centuries.
I already mentioned that Dante and other writers were supported by patrons at least as far back as the Renaissance. But I doubt that Beowulf was written on commission. Probably there was a collection of legends and tales that had been passed along in an oral tradition---which is just a fancy way of saying that lots of people liked those stories and wanted to hear them told. And at some point perhaps there was an especially well-liked storyteller who pulled a few such tales together and fashioned them into the what we now know as Beowulf. Maybe there was a king or other wealthy patron who then caused the tale to be written down by a scribe. But I doubt it was created at the behest of a king. It was created at the behest of lots and lots of intoxicated Frisians sitting around the fire wanting to hear a yarn. And there was no grand purpose behind its creation, as there was with the painting of the Sistine Chapel.
The novel is a very new form of art. It was unthinkable until the invention of printing and impractical until a significant fraction of the population became literate. But when the conditions were right, it suddenly became huge. The great serialized novelists of the 19th Century were like rock stars or movie stars. The printing press and the apparatus of publishing had given these creators a means to bypass traditional arbiters and gatekeepers of culture and connect directly to a mass audience. And the economics worked out such that they didn't need to land a commission or find a patron in order to put bread on the table. The creators of those novels were therefore able to have a connection with a mass audience and a livelihood fundamentally different from other types of artists. Nowadays, rock stars and movie stars are making all the money. But the publishing industry still works for some lucky novelists who find a way to establish a connection with a readership sufficiently large to put bread on their tables. It's conventional to refer to these as "commercial" novelists, but I hate that term, so I'm going to call them Beowulf writers. But this is not true for a great many other writers who are every bit as talented and worthy of finding readers. And so, in addition, we have got an alternate system that makes it possible for those writers to pursue their careers and make their voices heard. Just as Renaissance princes supported writers like Dante because they felt it was the right thing to do, there are many affluent persons in modern society who, by making donations to cultural institutions like universities, support all sorts of artists, including writers. Usually they are called "literary" as opposed to "commercial" but I hate that term too, so I'm going to call them Dante writers. And this is what I mean when I speak of a bifurcated system.
Like all tricks for dividing people into two groups, this is simplistic, and needs to be taken with a grain of salt. But there is a cultural difference between these two types of writers, rooted in to whom they are accountable, and it explains what MosesJones is complaining about. Beowulf writers and Dante writers appear to have the same job, but in fact there is a quite radical difference between them---hence the odd conversation that I had with my fellow author at the writer's conference. Because she'd never heard of me, she made the quite reasonable assumption that I was a Dante writer---one so new or obscure that she'd never seen me mentioned in a journal of literary criticism, and never bumped into me at a conference. Therefore, I couldn't be making any money at it. Therefore, I was most likely teaching somewhere. All perfectly logical.
In order to set her straight, I had to let her know that the reason she'd never heard of me was because I was famous.
All of this places someone like me in critical limbo. As everyone knows, there are literary critics, and journals that publish their work, and I imagine they have the same dual role as art critics. That is, they are engaging in intellectual discourse for its own sake. But they are also performing an economic function by making judgments. These judgments, taken collectively, eventually determine who's deemed worthy of receiving fellowships, teaching appointments, etc. The relationship between that critical apparatus and Beowulf writers is famously awkward and leads to all sorts of peculiar misunderstandings.
Occasionally I'll take a hit from a critic for being somehow arrogant or egomaniacal, which is difficult to understand from my point of view sitting here and just trying to write about whatever I find interesting. To begin with, it's not clear why they think I'm any more arrogant than anyone else who writes a book and actually expects that someone's going to read it. Secondly, I don't understand why they think that this is relevant enough to rate mention in a review. After all, if I'm going to eat at a restaurant, I don't care about the chef's personality flaws---I just want to eat good food. I was slagged for entitling my latest book "The System of the World" by one critic who found that title arrogant. That criticism is simply wrong; the critic has completely misunderstood why I chose that title. Why on earth would anyone think it was arrogant? Well, on the Dante side of the bifurcation it's implicit that authority comes from the top down, and you need to get in the habit of deferring to people who are older and grander than you. In that world, apparently one must never select a grand-sounding title for one's book until one has reached Nobel Prize status. But on my side, if I'm trying to write a book about a bunch of historical figures who were consciously trying to understand and invent the System of the World, then this is an obvious choice for the title of the book.
The same argument, I believe, explains why the accusation of having a big ego is considered relevant for inclusion in a book review. Considering the economic function of these reviews (explained above) it is worth pointing out which writers are and are not suited for participating in the somewhat hierarchical and political community of Dante writers. Egomaniacs would only create trouble. Mind you, much of the authority and seniority in that world is benevolent, or at least well-intentioned. If you are trying to become a writer by taking expensive classes in that subject, you want your teacher to know more about it than you and to behave like a teacher. And so you might hear advice along the lines of "I don't think you're ready to tackle Y yet, you need to spend a few more years honing your skills with X" and the like. All perfectly reasonable. But people on the Beowulf side may never have taken a writing class in their life. They just tend to lunge at whatever looks interesting to them, write whatever they please, and let the chips fall where they may. So we may seem not merely arrogant, but completely unhinged. It reminds me somewhat of the split between Christians and Faeries depicted in Susannah Clarke's wonderful book "Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell." The faeries do whatever they want and strike the Christians (humans) as ludicrously irresponsible and "barely sane." They don't seem to deserve or appreciate their freedom.
Later at the writer's conference, I introduced myself to someone who was responsible for organizing it, and she looked at me keenly and said, "Ah, yes, you're the one who's going to bring in our males 18-32." And sure enough, when we got to the venue, there were the males 18-32, looking quite out of place compared to the baseline lit-festival crowd. They stood at long lines at the microphones and asked me one question after another while ignoring the Dante writers sitting at the table with me. Some of the males 18-32 were so out of place that they seemed to have warped in from the Land of Faerie, and had the organizers wondering whether they should summon the police. But in the end they were more or less reasonable people who just wanted to talk about books and were as mystified by the literary people as the literary people were by them.
In the same vein, I just got back from the National Book Festival on the Capitol Mall in D.C., where I crossed paths for a few minutes with Neil Gaiman. This was another event in which Beowulf writers and Dante writers were all mixed together. The organizers had queues set up in front of signing tables. Neil had mentioned on his blog that he was going to be there, and so hundreds, maybe thousands of his readers had showed up there as early as 5:30 a.m. to get stuff signed. The organizers simply had not anticipated this and so---very much to their credit---they had to make all sorts of last-minute rearrangements to accomodate the crowd. Neil spent many hours signing.
As he says on his blog http://www.neilgaiman.com/journal/journal.asp the Washington Post later said he did this because he was a "savvy businessman." Of course Neil was actually doing it to be polite; but even simple politeness to one's fans can seem grasping and cynical when viewed from the other side.
Because of such reactions, I know that certain people are going to read this screed as further evidence that I have a big head. But let me make at least a token effort to deflect this by stipulating that the system I am describing here IS NOT FAIR and that IT MAKES NO SENSE and that I don't deserve to have the freedom that is accorded a Beowulf writer when many talented and excellent writers---some of them good friends of mine---end up selling small numbers of books and having to cultivate grants, fellowships, faculty appointments, etc.
Anyway, most Beowulf writing is ignored by the critical apparatus or lightly made fun of when it's noticed at all. Literary critics know perfectly well that nothing they say is likely to have much effect on sales. Let's face it, when Neil Gaiman publishes Anansi Boys, all of his readers are going to know about it through his site and most of them are going to buy it and none of them is likely to see a review in the New York Review of Books, or care what that review says. So what of MosesJones's original question, which was entitled "The lack of respect?" My answer is that I don't pay that much notice to these things because I am aware at some level that I am on one side of the bifurcation and most literary critics are on the other, and we simply are not that relevant to each other's lives and careers.
What is most interesting to me is when people make efforts to "route around" the apparatus of literary criticism and publish their thoughts about books in place where you wouldn't normally look for book reviews. For example, a year ago there was a piece by Edward Rothstein in the New York Times about Quicksilver that appears to have been a sort of wildcat review. He just got interested in the book and decided to write about it, independent of the New York Times's normal book-reviewing apparatus. It is not the first time such a thing has happened with one of my books. It has happened many times in history that new systems will come along and, instead of obliterating the old, will surround and encapsulate them and work in symbiosis with them but otherwise pretty much leave them alone (think mitochondria) and sometimes I get the feeling that something similar is happening with these two literary worlds. The fact that we are having a discussion like this one on a forum such as Slashdot is Exhibit A.
=====
Mr. Stephenson is the author many fine novels, including Cryptonomicon, Snow Crash, and The Diamond Age.
10.20.2004
Bacon!
When I got out of work last night, I was deep in a fit of melancholy. No good reason or excuse, just a passing cloud of exhaustion and malaise. I was even considering skipping my volunteer duty at the skate park and heading home to sleep it off. Fortunately for me, I summoned enough will power to drive over the state line to Vermont and put in my time.
I dropped into the skate park, and who should be there, but good ol’ Bacon.
I wrote about Bacon a year ago in a post on the Wizards boards. Bacon is 13 or 14 years old, a little on the round side, and is blithely oblivious to the social hazards of gaming. Or maybe he is just a lot braver than I am.
Bacon and I hung out for the night, skating with the other kids in our local park. Bacon is still skating (bravely, poorly) and is still playing that blessed version of D&D possible only for kids that are 14 and younger. Remember when you didn’t know how to roll a d4? Remember when it didn’t matter that you didn’t know how to roll a d4? That’s where Bacon is at.
He assured me that he was going to “crank through the Dungeon Master’s Guide” this weekend so he could run a game for his friends. Please bear in mind that, to the best of my knowledge, Bacon has been running games for his friends for the past year, so I can only assume was finally been able to afford the DMG.
It bears repeating that our skate park used to be a mechanic’s garage and that the ramps were all built by the kids. If the word “ghetto” can be used as a compliment, our park pretty darn ghetto. It is also where all the young boys come to show off for the girls, so emotions can run high. There is a lot at stake when you’re literally falling down in front of the girls.
And yet, there’s my buddy Baco: not particularly athletic, happily chatting about D&D between turns dropping in on the ½ pipe. Two hours skating with him and I was new man.
Last year I would have said Bacon was oblivious to the social hazards of being a gamer. This year I’ve voting for braver.
When I got out of work last night, I was deep in a fit of melancholy. No good reason or excuse, just a passing cloud of exhaustion and malaise. I was even considering skipping my volunteer duty at the skate park and heading home to sleep it off. Fortunately for me, I summoned enough will power to drive over the state line to Vermont and put in my time.
I dropped into the skate park, and who should be there, but good ol’ Bacon.
I wrote about Bacon a year ago in a post on the Wizards boards. Bacon is 13 or 14 years old, a little on the round side, and is blithely oblivious to the social hazards of gaming. Or maybe he is just a lot braver than I am.
Bacon and I hung out for the night, skating with the other kids in our local park. Bacon is still skating (bravely, poorly) and is still playing that blessed version of D&D possible only for kids that are 14 and younger. Remember when you didn’t know how to roll a d4? Remember when it didn’t matter that you didn’t know how to roll a d4? That’s where Bacon is at.
He assured me that he was going to “crank through the Dungeon Master’s Guide” this weekend so he could run a game for his friends. Please bear in mind that, to the best of my knowledge, Bacon has been running games for his friends for the past year, so I can only assume was finally been able to afford the DMG.
It bears repeating that our skate park used to be a mechanic’s garage and that the ramps were all built by the kids. If the word “ghetto” can be used as a compliment, our park pretty darn ghetto. It is also where all the young boys come to show off for the girls, so emotions can run high. There is a lot at stake when you’re literally falling down in front of the girls.
And yet, there’s my buddy Baco: not particularly athletic, happily chatting about D&D between turns dropping in on the ½ pipe. Two hours skating with him and I was new man.
Last year I would have said Bacon was oblivious to the social hazards of being a gamer. This year I’ve voting for braver.
10.14.2004
Escape Velocity
Those of us aspiring to be authors are all familiar with the cliche of the writer/drunk, pounding out pathos just as quickly as he pounds back shots of whiskey. Some of us may have even tried to imitate it. Maybe right now.
Drinking and writing has never worked for me. Mostly it just makes me sleepy. (What a dork, eh? :) ) Maybe I'm not cut out to be a writer, or maybe there is something else at work here.
Ever since H left to teach first grade in Colorado, I've been spending more time skating. A lot more time. I get home from work, put in a few hours writing, then hit the streets. Midnight rolls around and I'll be found in an empty parking lot by the Cellular One store, drinking a gatoraide and nursing new bruises.
The emotional attraction of skating is that it doesn't give me time to think about anything else. If I do, I fall down and get hurt. Every moment is spent paying attention, and reacting to, what is happening right then. Past? Future? They don't matter, and if I start daydreaming about Heather or all the problems in the world, I'll incur some negative reinforcement, right pronto.
So, for me, skating is an escape from thinking.
Sorta like drinking.
Sorta like fantasy fiction.
I don't know enough about the psychology to claim that what makes folks want to write also makes them drawn to escapist addictions, but in my life there does seem to be some parallels.
Or so I tell myself at midnight, while sitting in an empty parking lot.
Those of us aspiring to be authors are all familiar with the cliche of the writer/drunk, pounding out pathos just as quickly as he pounds back shots of whiskey. Some of us may have even tried to imitate it. Maybe right now.
Drinking and writing has never worked for me. Mostly it just makes me sleepy. (What a dork, eh? :) ) Maybe I'm not cut out to be a writer, or maybe there is something else at work here.
Ever since H left to teach first grade in Colorado, I've been spending more time skating. A lot more time. I get home from work, put in a few hours writing, then hit the streets. Midnight rolls around and I'll be found in an empty parking lot by the Cellular One store, drinking a gatoraide and nursing new bruises.
The emotional attraction of skating is that it doesn't give me time to think about anything else. If I do, I fall down and get hurt. Every moment is spent paying attention, and reacting to, what is happening right then. Past? Future? They don't matter, and if I start daydreaming about Heather or all the problems in the world, I'll incur some negative reinforcement, right pronto.
So, for me, skating is an escape from thinking.
Sorta like drinking.
Sorta like fantasy fiction.
I don't know enough about the psychology to claim that what makes folks want to write also makes them drawn to escapist addictions, but in my life there does seem to be some parallels.
Or so I tell myself at midnight, while sitting in an empty parking lot.
10.13.2004
The Writer's Covenant
So it isn't too hard to find "doom and gloom" advice from writers for writers, and a lot of it is useful. "We're not going to get rich writing." "If you can stop, you should." "If jabbing a pencil in your eye will create an aversion to writing, jab two."
That sort of thing.
But there is another side to writing which is often easy to ignore, and that is this: if you go home and write tonight, you'll be a better writer tomorrow.
That's it. I might suck today, but tomorrow I'll be better. And better the day after that, and the day after that. Everyone can do it. It doesn't require talent, intelligence or even a decent spell check program.
Getting a book deal is beyond my control. But if I write every evening for the remainder of my days, I can still die a great author...
...and rest easy in the knowledge that my grandkids will make a killing by selling my unpublished works.
So it isn't too hard to find "doom and gloom" advice from writers for writers, and a lot of it is useful. "We're not going to get rich writing." "If you can stop, you should." "If jabbing a pencil in your eye will create an aversion to writing, jab two."
That sort of thing.
But there is another side to writing which is often easy to ignore, and that is this: if you go home and write tonight, you'll be a better writer tomorrow.
That's it. I might suck today, but tomorrow I'll be better. And better the day after that, and the day after that. Everyone can do it. It doesn't require talent, intelligence or even a decent spell check program.
Getting a book deal is beyond my control. But if I write every evening for the remainder of my days, I can still die a great author...
...and rest easy in the knowledge that my grandkids will make a killing by selling my unpublished works.
10.06.2004
Granny D is not an orange-flavored breakfast drink.
It's easy to lose faith in all politicians these days, but I've found one you can believe in. Last night my household helped to put on a 'meet the candidate' style event. Headlining the night was Doris "Granny D" Haddock, whose chief claim to fame was the cross country walk she did ....
...at the age of 90.
Her book, "You're Never Too Old To Raise a Little Hell," is a keeper.
It's easy to lose faith in all politicians these days, but I've found one you can believe in. Last night my household helped to put on a 'meet the candidate' style event. Headlining the night was Doris "Granny D" Haddock, whose chief claim to fame was the cross country walk she did ....
...at the age of 90.
Her book, "You're Never Too Old To Raise a Little Hell," is a keeper.
Whither the Hopping Doom?
I'm still a little slow on the 3/3.5 uptake, so feel free to point out an idiotic mistake on my part, but where did the giant toad go?
Did he not make the cut? Or did he end up in MMII/III and isn't available under the OGL? Or is it a new template (giant animal XYZ)?
You know who I'm talking about. Lurks in swamps, swallows PCs whole. That giant toad. I can write himself myself, but that means a "new monster" entry, and you know what that means:
Another 500 words down the drain. :)
I'm still a little slow on the 3/3.5 uptake, so feel free to point out an idiotic mistake on my part, but where did the giant toad go?
Did he not make the cut? Or did he end up in MMII/III and isn't available under the OGL? Or is it a new template (giant animal XYZ)?
You know who I'm talking about. Lurks in swamps, swallows PCs whole. That giant toad. I can write himself myself, but that means a "new monster" entry, and you know what that means:
Another 500 words down the drain. :)
24,000 Word Wall
I've been cranking on the DCC module for Goodman Games and enjoying every minute of it. Trouble is, I've been enjoying myself a little too much. I ran a word count last night and found out I was pushing 22,000 words with 1/3 of the module still left to be written.
My contract explicitly states that I'll deliver a 20k-24k manuscript. Never ask an aspiring novelist to write a module. :)
In fairness, this isn't "real" writing. Crafting a module is more like a playing with a logic puzzle; if this, then that, and so on.
Most rough drafts, especially mine, can benefit from being tightened and focused. I went back through with a dull knife and a penchant for violence, and came out the other side at around 18.5k. I'll probably still finish the module 1 to 2 thousand words over, but another pass should be able to clean that up. So far I've enlisted the stalwart Knights of the Patio to do playtesting, but if anyone else wants to hammer their PCs with some lizardfolk and a diseased black dragon, let me know.
Pending Email
I didn't have a chance to get to PCP mail yesterday. If you sent me something and are awaiting a response, one should be coming soon. ;)
I've been cranking on the DCC module for Goodman Games and enjoying every minute of it. Trouble is, I've been enjoying myself a little too much. I ran a word count last night and found out I was pushing 22,000 words with 1/3 of the module still left to be written.
My contract explicitly states that I'll deliver a 20k-24k manuscript. Never ask an aspiring novelist to write a module. :)
In fairness, this isn't "real" writing. Crafting a module is more like a playing with a logic puzzle; if this, then that, and so on.
Most rough drafts, especially mine, can benefit from being tightened and focused. I went back through with a dull knife and a penchant for violence, and came out the other side at around 18.5k. I'll probably still finish the module 1 to 2 thousand words over, but another pass should be able to clean that up. So far I've enlisted the stalwart Knights of the Patio to do playtesting, but if anyone else wants to hammer their PCs with some lizardfolk and a diseased black dragon, let me know.
Pending Email
I didn't have a chance to get to PCP mail yesterday. If you sent me something and are awaiting a response, one should be coming soon. ;)
9.30.2004
9.27.2004
Magic Open Call
When the Eberron open call came out and some folks abstained, I didn't quite understand why. Now I think I might. Wizards is looking for a novel for Magic: the Gathering, but I don't know the first thing about the game, world or the books.
Let me take that back. Any open call that cites Six String Samurai is worth a shot in my book. ;)
When the Eberron open call came out and some folks abstained, I didn't quite understand why. Now I think I might. Wizards is looking for a novel for Magic: the Gathering, but I don't know the first thing about the game, world or the books.
Let me take that back. Any open call that cites Six String Samurai is worth a shot in my book. ;)
GT PDF back up
So the pdf version is back up on RPGNow, but we'll need to update our links. This is the proper one:
http://www.rpgnow.com/product_info.php?products_id=3336
I need to correct the web page, but I might not be able to get to it until this afternoon.
So the pdf version is back up on RPGNow, but we'll need to update our links. This is the proper one:
http://www.rpgnow.com/product_info.php?products_id=3336
I need to correct the web page, but I might not be able to get to it until this afternoon.
9.24.2004
9.23.2004
2005 Antho
Goblin Tails was (and continues to be) one long, messy learning experience, not unlike Chuba's life. Slowly, and with a lot of help from some seminal folks, I'm figuring all this out.
Ambitious plans are in the works for the 2005 antho, and we have some hard working folks dedicated to making it happen. Primarily we're looking for better production and distribution, taking us one step closer to making this chaotic flurry of good intentions into an actual publishing house.
Or at least a publishing hovel.
One of the things brought to our attention is that distributing profits via shares isn't a realistic or enticing reward. One of the promises I made to myself was that authors would always receive payment, but with the inevitable production delays and uncertain sales, there is the risk of not paying an author anything, and that just ain't cool.
With the exception of the two deals already in place, we're considering going to the more traditional cents/word arrangement, a flat fee paid on publication, an arrangement you'll find in most professional magazines. A step below Wizards' advance + royalties arrangement, but until we're bankrolled by Hasbro it is the best we can do.
Q. But what if the 2005 antho takes off and you sell a billion copies and all I see is this measly flat fee?!
A. First, it isn't likely it will take off.
But let's say it did. The solution turns out to be very elegant for all parties involved. Even if I could sell 500,000 copies of the 2005 Antho, I don't have the capital to pull it off. If the demand was so great to as suggest a really large printing, we would need to have a another investor (e.g. a large publishing house) to run the antho, which would require new contracts for second printing rights. So sell us first North American rights and rest easy in the knowledge that we'll work out the rest when we get there.
Which we won't.
Cause were not going to make any money off of this. ;)
Q. So what the heck is the title?
A. Well, that's up to you.
We're going to take the strongest story and use that as the "title track." So if you submit a killer story entitled "One Hundred and One Uses for a Skinned Dragon," the title of the antho will likely be "One Hundred and One Uses for a Skinned Dragon, and Other Stories," or something along those lines. You get the idea. So write that killer story and name our antho.
Q. "Cents/word" is a little vague. Just how many?
A. We're still working that out. Regardless of where we are at now, it will be highlighted on your contract. :)
Goblin Tails was (and continues to be) one long, messy learning experience, not unlike Chuba's life. Slowly, and with a lot of help from some seminal folks, I'm figuring all this out.
Ambitious plans are in the works for the 2005 antho, and we have some hard working folks dedicated to making it happen. Primarily we're looking for better production and distribution, taking us one step closer to making this chaotic flurry of good intentions into an actual publishing house.
Or at least a publishing hovel.
One of the things brought to our attention is that distributing profits via shares isn't a realistic or enticing reward. One of the promises I made to myself was that authors would always receive payment, but with the inevitable production delays and uncertain sales, there is the risk of not paying an author anything, and that just ain't cool.
With the exception of the two deals already in place, we're considering going to the more traditional cents/word arrangement, a flat fee paid on publication, an arrangement you'll find in most professional magazines. A step below Wizards' advance + royalties arrangement, but until we're bankrolled by Hasbro it is the best we can do.
Q. But what if the 2005 antho takes off and you sell a billion copies and all I see is this measly flat fee?!
A. First, it isn't likely it will take off.
But let's say it did. The solution turns out to be very elegant for all parties involved. Even if I could sell 500,000 copies of the 2005 Antho, I don't have the capital to pull it off. If the demand was so great to as suggest a really large printing, we would need to have a another investor (e.g. a large publishing house) to run the antho, which would require new contracts for second printing rights. So sell us first North American rights and rest easy in the knowledge that we'll work out the rest when we get there.
Which we won't.
Cause were not going to make any money off of this. ;)
Q. So what the heck is the title?
A. Well, that's up to you.
We're going to take the strongest story and use that as the "title track." So if you submit a killer story entitled "One Hundred and One Uses for a Skinned Dragon," the title of the antho will likely be "One Hundred and One Uses for a Skinned Dragon, and Other Stories," or something along those lines. You get the idea. So write that killer story and name our antho.
Q. "Cents/word" is a little vague. Just how many?
A. We're still working that out. Regardless of where we are at now, it will be highlighted on your contract. :)
9.22.2004
No time for love, Doctor Jones!
or, "Where the devil have you been, Grim?!"
One aspect of my job is that is it can go from zero to sixty in an instant. One minute I'll be happily daydreaming about a post for my friends on Choose Death and the next I'll be drowning beneath a wave of students, faculty and parents.
I wear a lot of hats for my school and one of them is school nurse. But those lines blur quite a bit when you realize that in the eyes of the student, I'm not "school nurse" but "that guy who makes wrong things right." (This especially true of the younger grades.) Forgot your lunch? Ask Mr. Stroh. Have a tummy ache because one of your parents is out of town? Ask Mr. Stroh. Your parents forgot we have early dismissal on Fridays and forgot to pick you up? You get the idea.
Early last week I heard running in the halls and the voices of children calling my name.
"Someone fell off the roof!"
Our building is three stories tall, plus change.
Zero, meet sixty.
I make it outside, and it turns out that it wasn't our building, but one of the houses next door. A house was getting having roofing work done, and the workers weren't wearing harnesses. We stabilize the man who fell, call in an ambulance, and get all the kids back inside. As I sat with the man, waiting for the ambulance, I was struck by an awareness of just how little I could really accomplish in this situation. The children had seen something terribly wrong take place in the universe, and they needed me to correct it, but I'm just Harley Stroh, average guy numero 6,394,250,575. They needed me to tell them that J, who had fallen two stories onto concrete, would be okay, but that was out of my hands.
I went to the hospital on my lunch break to see if I could find out J's condition. Of course the staff wouldn't tell me anything, but I was able to puzzle out who his relatives were, and met them in the waiting room. I offered my condolences, but things didn't look so good. I checked in with the remaining roofers the next morning, and it was more of the same. Of course, they were all wearing harnesses then.
So if you've been wondering where I've been, there's the answer. Special apologies to Wallace, Noise and Alrunic, who have been trying to run a PBP game in my absence.
Now back to your regularly scheduled blog.
And if you're going up someplace high, damnit, wear your safety gear.
Goblin Tails, in stores now!
Just when you thought I was a chronic liar, Goblin Tails is here! Or at least, it was here. I sent out copies sent out to all the trusting folks that pre-ordered, stocked the local bookstores, and sent the remainder off to Chris and Christina so they'll have copies for NECRO. I didn't even keep a copy for myself. I've put in another print order, and made sure I reserved enough for the authors and artists.
What's up with RPGNow?
The hard working folks at RPGNow are fluent in English, and are very kind. I'm fluent in English most of the time, play poorly with others and am easily frustrated. So why we're having trouble getting the GT listings straight is a complete mystery to me. But I'm working on it.
GT Release Party, NYC...
...was a complete blast. Think dark dance club, lots of shiny, black clothing and all the Red Bull and vodka you can drink. In one of life's perfect ironies, the club was non-smoking (?!), but they had a smoke machine running all night long. Heh.
I'm such an old geek; the Sisters of Mercy get me onto the dance floor every time.
Certain subway exits were shut down due to 9/11, so getting home was a lesson in jumping turnstiles. We were left trying to puzzle out subways maps at 4 in the morning, making it clear that all those vodka and Red Bulls might not have been such a great idea after all.
Eberron
I had my first Eberron dream last night, from the point of view of Peter Archer. I (Peter) was going through the submissions and decided to buy Kam's. I'm not sure if this qualifies as a nightmare, but I remember waking up and being pretty bummed out until I figured out it was only a dream. ;)
or, "Where the devil have you been, Grim?!"
One aspect of my job is that is it can go from zero to sixty in an instant. One minute I'll be happily daydreaming about a post for my friends on Choose Death and the next I'll be drowning beneath a wave of students, faculty and parents.
I wear a lot of hats for my school and one of them is school nurse. But those lines blur quite a bit when you realize that in the eyes of the student, I'm not "school nurse" but "that guy who makes wrong things right." (This especially true of the younger grades.) Forgot your lunch? Ask Mr. Stroh. Have a tummy ache because one of your parents is out of town? Ask Mr. Stroh. Your parents forgot we have early dismissal on Fridays and forgot to pick you up? You get the idea.
Early last week I heard running in the halls and the voices of children calling my name.
"Someone fell off the roof!"
Our building is three stories tall, plus change.
Zero, meet sixty.
I make it outside, and it turns out that it wasn't our building, but one of the houses next door. A house was getting having roofing work done, and the workers weren't wearing harnesses. We stabilize the man who fell, call in an ambulance, and get all the kids back inside. As I sat with the man, waiting for the ambulance, I was struck by an awareness of just how little I could really accomplish in this situation. The children had seen something terribly wrong take place in the universe, and they needed me to correct it, but I'm just Harley Stroh, average guy numero 6,394,250,575. They needed me to tell them that J, who had fallen two stories onto concrete, would be okay, but that was out of my hands.
I went to the hospital on my lunch break to see if I could find out J's condition. Of course the staff wouldn't tell me anything, but I was able to puzzle out who his relatives were, and met them in the waiting room. I offered my condolences, but things didn't look so good. I checked in with the remaining roofers the next morning, and it was more of the same. Of course, they were all wearing harnesses then.
So if you've been wondering where I've been, there's the answer. Special apologies to Wallace, Noise and Alrunic, who have been trying to run a PBP game in my absence.
Now back to your regularly scheduled blog.
And if you're going up someplace high, damnit, wear your safety gear.
Goblin Tails, in stores now!
Just when you thought I was a chronic liar, Goblin Tails is here! Or at least, it was here. I sent out copies sent out to all the trusting folks that pre-ordered, stocked the local bookstores, and sent the remainder off to Chris and Christina so they'll have copies for NECRO. I didn't even keep a copy for myself. I've put in another print order, and made sure I reserved enough for the authors and artists.
What's up with RPGNow?
The hard working folks at RPGNow are fluent in English, and are very kind. I'm fluent in English most of the time, play poorly with others and am easily frustrated. So why we're having trouble getting the GT listings straight is a complete mystery to me. But I'm working on it.
GT Release Party, NYC...
...was a complete blast. Think dark dance club, lots of shiny, black clothing and all the Red Bull and vodka you can drink. In one of life's perfect ironies, the club was non-smoking (?!), but they had a smoke machine running all night long. Heh.
I'm such an old geek; the Sisters of Mercy get me onto the dance floor every time.
Certain subway exits were shut down due to 9/11, so getting home was a lesson in jumping turnstiles. We were left trying to puzzle out subways maps at 4 in the morning, making it clear that all those vodka and Red Bulls might not have been such a great idea after all.
Eberron
I had my first Eberron dream last night, from the point of view of Peter Archer. I (Peter) was going through the submissions and decided to buy Kam's. I'm not sure if this qualifies as a nightmare, but I remember waking up and being pretty bummed out until I figured out it was only a dream. ;)
9.10.2004
A big, Deathy Welcome to Joshua Wentz!
...soon to be a household name. Check out his page*, which is officially cooler than anything you'll find here.
*While you're there, sign in and ask him to send you some music. ;)
...soon to be a household name. Check out his page*, which is officially cooler than anything you'll find here.
*While you're there, sign in and ask him to send you some music. ;)
Goblin Tails Release Party - NYC
GT (ver. Dead Trees) should be in the mail, headed my direction (cross my heart and hope to die). I don't know if it will get here by Saturday, but I'm throwing a party regardless.
It's a faith thing.
So for anyone who doesn't mind fumbling through dark clubs looking for people they've never met*, this is a standing invitation for this Saturday night. We'll be meeting at the AlbionBatcave for a little angst dancing, with plans for coffee and what not afterwards. This will also be your chance to push your editors into an alley and rough them up a bit before discussing future works.
*You'll be looking for one tall person wearing a scowl, and one short person wearing a beard.
GT (ver. Dead Trees) should be in the mail, headed my direction (cross my heart and hope to die). I don't know if it will get here by Saturday, but I'm throwing a party regardless.
It's a faith thing.
So for anyone who doesn't mind fumbling through dark clubs looking for people they've never met*, this is a standing invitation for this Saturday night. We'll be meeting at the AlbionBatcave for a little angst dancing, with plans for coffee and what not afterwards. This will also be your chance to push your editors into an alley and rough them up a bit before discussing future works.
*You'll be looking for one tall person wearing a scowl, and one short person wearing a beard.
9.03.2004
Week 1
Alrunic asked how the first day of school went. In a word, it was magical*.
Our school philosophy emphasizes a child's joy of discovery, and our program tries to maintain that sense of "magic" for as long as possible. Our days are filled with storytelling, and a strong emphasis on "the arts." On the surface it can appear that we are soft on "academics," but that's really a trick of the eye. The curriculum is integrated in such a way that all those stories teach math skills, language, science, history, and all the usual subjects found in traditional schools --- it just looks like we're playing (especially in the lower grades).
It's not the right education for every kid, and I wish we didn't have to charge tuition. Still, if you're ever in New Hampshire, drop in to check out the results.
*In my excitement to write about the school, I forgot to mention that our sewer blew out on day 1. Last year it was the fire alarm. Nice way to impress the new first grade parents: "Sorry, our adult restroom is out of order. You'll have to use the little kids' room."
Meanwhile, Back in the Kobolds' Kitchen
I lucked out with a d20 proposal and was commissioned by an indie company to write a 20,000-40,000 word module.
Yep. Last night I was paid for squinting over blue lined graph paper and flipping through the Monster Manual.
My experience with indie d20 (1 submission, 1 sale) is UNDOUBTEDLY a clerical error, or at least a freak accident, but for anyone interested in writing gaming material, I encourage you to send out some queries. They pay really well, and heck, this is what we do in our free time anyway! :)
Alrunic asked how the first day of school went. In a word, it was magical*.
Our school philosophy emphasizes a child's joy of discovery, and our program tries to maintain that sense of "magic" for as long as possible. Our days are filled with storytelling, and a strong emphasis on "the arts." On the surface it can appear that we are soft on "academics," but that's really a trick of the eye. The curriculum is integrated in such a way that all those stories teach math skills, language, science, history, and all the usual subjects found in traditional schools --- it just looks like we're playing (especially in the lower grades).
It's not the right education for every kid, and I wish we didn't have to charge tuition. Still, if you're ever in New Hampshire, drop in to check out the results.
*In my excitement to write about the school, I forgot to mention that our sewer blew out on day 1. Last year it was the fire alarm. Nice way to impress the new first grade parents: "Sorry, our adult restroom is out of order. You'll have to use the little kids' room."
Meanwhile, Back in the Kobolds' Kitchen
I lucked out with a d20 proposal and was commissioned by an indie company to write a 20,000-40,000 word module.
Yep. Last night I was paid for squinting over blue lined graph paper and flipping through the Monster Manual.
My experience with indie d20 (1 submission, 1 sale) is UNDOUBTEDLY a clerical error, or at least a freak accident, but for anyone interested in writing gaming material, I encourage you to send out some queries. They pay really well, and heck, this is what we do in our free time anyway! :)
8.31.2004
Cast Party
My first real job as a young man was working as an actor at a Renaissance festival in Colorado. I played the part of the goat boy. My goats and I would make the rounds, stopping for little kids and aging bikers. Imagine a mobile petting zoo that also tells jokes*.
The best part of every season was the cast party at the end of the summer. It was a motley mix of costumes and "real clothes," old performers, kids (like myself), dirt and wood chips, left over turkey legs and alcohol, and sexual tension of every persuasion, all stewed together in a sprawling fantasy village after dark.
At the time, I resented my parents for never letting me stay the night. Now I know better.
I'll probably never have the chance to work as a street performer again, but that same giddy feeling of excitement can be found almost anywhere groups work together for a common goal.
Tomorrow, our private elementary school opens. Tomorrow our faculty will be dignified and correct as they welcome their students back for another year. But today, the classrooms are in shambles, teachers are in cut-offs and t-shirts, and heavy machinery toil in our playground.
The air is electrified. Like children waiting for Christmas, we're counting down the moments until our kids get back. And I'm realizing that we're performers, too.
Tomorrow the curtain goes up and we do what they pay us for. But right now I'm riding the anticipation.
*And for the record: my schtick was entirely thanks to the comic genius of my little brother.
My first real job as a young man was working as an actor at a Renaissance festival in Colorado. I played the part of the goat boy. My goats and I would make the rounds, stopping for little kids and aging bikers. Imagine a mobile petting zoo that also tells jokes*.
The best part of every season was the cast party at the end of the summer. It was a motley mix of costumes and "real clothes," old performers, kids (like myself), dirt and wood chips, left over turkey legs and alcohol, and sexual tension of every persuasion, all stewed together in a sprawling fantasy village after dark.
At the time, I resented my parents for never letting me stay the night. Now I know better.
I'll probably never have the chance to work as a street performer again, but that same giddy feeling of excitement can be found almost anywhere groups work together for a common goal.
Tomorrow, our private elementary school opens. Tomorrow our faculty will be dignified and correct as they welcome their students back for another year. But today, the classrooms are in shambles, teachers are in cut-offs and t-shirts, and heavy machinery toil in our playground.
The air is electrified. Like children waiting for Christmas, we're counting down the moments until our kids get back. And I'm realizing that we're performers, too.
Tomorrow the curtain goes up and we do what they pay us for. But right now I'm riding the anticipation.
*And for the record: my schtick was entirely thanks to the comic genius of my little brother.
8.27.2004
Disconnection Man
Chasing the writing dream, hanging out with the Pcp folks, it is easy to forget just how different our lives are from most folks. To compound the situation, we're fighting tooth and claw for a place in a genre that most folks consider to be hack work. You earn one brand of derision sitting in the coffee shop working on the great American novel; working on the great American Fantasy novel inspires another level of disgust.
To work as an undiscovered writer is to attempt to disconnect yourself from nearly every expectation placed on you by our culture. Chances are you're not going to make money, and even if you do sell a story it can be tough to explain to the inlaws just what that story is about.
But what are our options, really? Would I be a better person if I settled in to the rest of my life, kept the same job for the next thirty years, bought an RV and moved to Florida? Is this success?
It seems to me that some of us have been given an choice: to either succeed at living ordinary lives, or to fail at living extraordinary lives. Success --if it ever comes, and however we define it-- isn't something we can control. If we can accept that, and go on writing regardless, despite all the derision and rejection letters, then maybe, maybe, we'll be selling novels some day.
It would be a lie to say that selling stories doesn't make me the happiest man on the planet. But if I base my happiness and self-esteem on getting stories or novels accepted, then I'm setting up a long hard road. I don't know how you work it out, but for my own sanity, I've found a medium between the two extremes, and it has required ignoring nearly everything my culture would have me strive for.
Every time I put another SASE in the mail it is a blind shot at the moon, but the corollary of that is this: one day I might come home with the moon over my shoulder.
Chasing the writing dream, hanging out with the Pcp folks, it is easy to forget just how different our lives are from most folks. To compound the situation, we're fighting tooth and claw for a place in a genre that most folks consider to be hack work. You earn one brand of derision sitting in the coffee shop working on the great American novel; working on the great American Fantasy novel inspires another level of disgust.
To work as an undiscovered writer is to attempt to disconnect yourself from nearly every expectation placed on you by our culture. Chances are you're not going to make money, and even if you do sell a story it can be tough to explain to the inlaws just what that story is about.
But what are our options, really? Would I be a better person if I settled in to the rest of my life, kept the same job for the next thirty years, bought an RV and moved to Florida? Is this success?
It seems to me that some of us have been given an choice: to either succeed at living ordinary lives, or to fail at living extraordinary lives. Success --if it ever comes, and however we define it-- isn't something we can control. If we can accept that, and go on writing regardless, despite all the derision and rejection letters, then maybe, maybe, we'll be selling novels some day.
It would be a lie to say that selling stories doesn't make me the happiest man on the planet. But if I base my happiness and self-esteem on getting stories or novels accepted, then I'm setting up a long hard road. I don't know how you work it out, but for my own sanity, I've found a medium between the two extremes, and it has required ignoring nearly everything my culture would have me strive for.
Every time I put another SASE in the mail it is a blind shot at the moon, but the corollary of that is this: one day I might come home with the moon over my shoulder.
8.25.2004
8.20.2004
8.18.2004
Alone, Seldom Lonely
So H has safely arrived in colorful Colorado. Sometimes it seems that so long as she is safe, all will be right with the world. Rationally I know that isn't the case, but cut a newlywed a little slack, eh? ;)
H is an early to bed sort of gal. In her absence I've reverted to my natural, caffeine-fueled nocturnal state. Most nights I write until dark and then go skate. It's funny to realize it, but I "talk" to you guys more than just about anyone else.
I promise that I'm not as unhealthy as that sounds.
But what about GT, damnit?!
I confess I've been hesitant to post because I'm still waiting to hear back from the printers. Chances are it will be a 3-4 week turn around. I've committed 1 international felony and broken a dozen promises getting this thing to print, so I'm loathe to give a concrete date. Let me just say that we'll have it hand before the end of September, and leave it at that.
Trust me, no one is more anxious to have this in hand than I am.
And the next antho?
Things are coming together better than I could have dreamed. We have a celebrity contributer* that has submitted a story and will be penning the foreword. Taken together (and if my story is any good) this means that we will have 4 WotC writers included in the table of contents. That's a lot of clout for one little indie antho. Plus, Ed the Great and I both managed to slip plugs for PCPress into our bios for Realms of the Dragons, II. Heh. That Athans (editor for RotD, I & II) is a godsend, let me tell you. If you see him, give him a hug for me.
So, alone? Yeah. Lonely? Nope. Body aching from typing all day then falling down on concrete? Wouldn't have it any other way.
*Before anyone asks: "Who's the Celeb!?", let me say that we need to keep it under wraps until the project is a bit more finalized. I'm sure you'll be pleased though.
So H has safely arrived in colorful Colorado. Sometimes it seems that so long as she is safe, all will be right with the world. Rationally I know that isn't the case, but cut a newlywed a little slack, eh? ;)
H is an early to bed sort of gal. In her absence I've reverted to my natural, caffeine-fueled nocturnal state. Most nights I write until dark and then go skate. It's funny to realize it, but I "talk" to you guys more than just about anyone else.
I promise that I'm not as unhealthy as that sounds.
But what about GT, damnit?!
I confess I've been hesitant to post because I'm still waiting to hear back from the printers. Chances are it will be a 3-4 week turn around. I've committed 1 international felony and broken a dozen promises getting this thing to print, so I'm loathe to give a concrete date. Let me just say that we'll have it hand before the end of September, and leave it at that.
Trust me, no one is more anxious to have this in hand than I am.
And the next antho?
Things are coming together better than I could have dreamed. We have a celebrity contributer* that has submitted a story and will be penning the foreword. Taken together (and if my story is any good) this means that we will have 4 WotC writers included in the table of contents. That's a lot of clout for one little indie antho. Plus, Ed the Great and I both managed to slip plugs for PCPress into our bios for Realms of the Dragons, II. Heh. That Athans (editor for RotD, I & II) is a godsend, let me tell you. If you see him, give him a hug for me.
So, alone? Yeah. Lonely? Nope. Body aching from typing all day then falling down on concrete? Wouldn't have it any other way.
*Before anyone asks: "Who's the Celeb!?", let me say that we need to keep it under wraps until the project is a bit more finalized. I'm sure you'll be pleased though.
8.16.2004
Rock on Chicago!
Well, Mrs. Stroh was sent off proper, with a homemade fireworks demonstration. The rocket wouldn't ignite, so I placed a soup can of gas beneath it instead and added a match.
Nothing says "I love you," more than fire and explosions.
On the same note of danger and love, it sounds like Alrunic and TSG survived the hurricane. Their town was hit the hardest, but our favorite couple made it out unscathed. I'm getting together a little care package, and am taking requests....
Well, Mrs. Stroh was sent off proper, with a homemade fireworks demonstration. The rocket wouldn't ignite, so I placed a soup can of gas beneath it instead and added a match.
Nothing says "I love you," more than fire and explosions.
On the same note of danger and love, it sounds like Alrunic and TSG survived the hurricane. Their town was hit the hardest, but our favorite couple made it out unscathed. I'm getting together a little care package, and am taking requests....
8.11.2004
"I wish I had more time to write..."
(No Empathy Required)
H's father got sick 3 months ago, and the doctors didn't give him long, just 3 to 6 months. Just before this happened, H and I had been making plans to move to Colorado where she would take a 1st grade teaching position.
Her father's cancer changed a lot of that. Instead of moving we got married down the barrel of a shotgun, and have made it a priority to spend a lot of time with her father. He is doing okay now, but the cancer is a terminal one.
So how does one proceed? After talking it over the last two months, H and I decided that she should go to Colorado to start her new job, returning once a month or so to see her father. I'll hold down the fort here in NH, just an hour away from her family.
This makes it possible for me to be around to support H and her family when things degrade. Additionally, if she needs to leave her job during the school year, I'll still have a real income and health insurance for the both of us. But it comes at a cost of putting H's family above H, something I don't do very well.
Emotionally it is very murky, but that is to be expected. This is life and life gets murky. My relationship with H has a solid foundation, so if ever we were to need to spend 6-9 months apart, now is the time.
Still, it is tricky.
The toughest part for me is making sure that the the stress and anxiety don't poison the little time we have left.
H leaves this Friday. She and her father will be driving out together. Until then we'll be spending most of our free time in the shop making wooden blocks, play stands and toys for her classroom.
"I wish I had more time to write." Note to self: learn to be more careful when wishing. ;)
(No Empathy Required)
H's father got sick 3 months ago, and the doctors didn't give him long, just 3 to 6 months. Just before this happened, H and I had been making plans to move to Colorado where she would take a 1st grade teaching position.
Her father's cancer changed a lot of that. Instead of moving we got married down the barrel of a shotgun, and have made it a priority to spend a lot of time with her father. He is doing okay now, but the cancer is a terminal one.
So how does one proceed? After talking it over the last two months, H and I decided that she should go to Colorado to start her new job, returning once a month or so to see her father. I'll hold down the fort here in NH, just an hour away from her family.
This makes it possible for me to be around to support H and her family when things degrade. Additionally, if she needs to leave her job during the school year, I'll still have a real income and health insurance for the both of us. But it comes at a cost of putting H's family above H, something I don't do very well.
Emotionally it is very murky, but that is to be expected. This is life and life gets murky. My relationship with H has a solid foundation, so if ever we were to need to spend 6-9 months apart, now is the time.
Still, it is tricky.
The toughest part for me is making sure that the the stress and anxiety don't poison the little time we have left.
H leaves this Friday. She and her father will be driving out together. Until then we'll be spending most of our free time in the shop making wooden blocks, play stands and toys for her classroom.
"I wish I had more time to write." Note to self: learn to be more careful when wishing. ;)
Notes from the Mainstream
So you probably are aware of this already, but if not, check it out:
Sherman Alexie's "How D&D Saved My Life" (Gen Con, 2004)
Sherman Alexie is a novelist, poet, screenwriter (Smokesignals), and author of numerous short stories. He's also a D&D player. Come hear in this funny, touching presentation how he learned to play D&D while growing up on a reservation outside Spokane and how the game sparked his imagination and that of those around him.
This sort of thing lights up my day. Repected folks recognizing that fantasy gaming made a difference in their lives --- that's a big issue for me.
So you probably are aware of this already, but if not, check it out:
Sherman Alexie's "How D&D Saved My Life" (Gen Con, 2004)
Sherman Alexie is a novelist, poet, screenwriter (Smokesignals), and author of numerous short stories. He's also a D&D player. Come hear in this funny, touching presentation how he learned to play D&D while growing up on a reservation outside Spokane and how the game sparked his imagination and that of those around him.
This sort of thing lights up my day. Repected folks recognizing that fantasy gaming made a difference in their lives --- that's a big issue for me.
8.10.2004
If I ran Gen Con...
I'd be sure there was a demolition derby on the schedule.
My web-fu remains weak. Rather than clogging your browser with pics from this weekend, I posted them to a demo pics page.
One of the neat things about derbies, is that there is a lot of technique involved. Not only does it require good driving in muddy, chaotic conditions, a lot of it is done in reverse. The goal is to smash up everybody else with your back end (trunk and empty space), while protecting your front end (engine).
My favorite part of the contest is when I'm watching a driver and see the mental switch go off. He decides, "Enough of this baloney," and starts smashing people with EVERY end of his car, and damn the consequences! I appreciate that emotional tipping point. The "suicide move," if you will, that I'm so drawn to.
Another interesting facet is that while the overt goal is "Destroy All Autos!", in practice there are certain rules which must be followed:
I'd be sure there was a demolition derby on the schedule.
My web-fu remains weak. Rather than clogging your browser with pics from this weekend, I posted them to a demo pics page.
One of the neat things about derbies, is that there is a lot of technique involved. Not only does it require good driving in muddy, chaotic conditions, a lot of it is done in reverse. The goal is to smash up everybody else with your back end (trunk and empty space), while protecting your front end (engine).
My favorite part of the contest is when I'm watching a driver and see the mental switch go off. He decides, "Enough of this baloney," and starts smashing people with EVERY end of his car, and damn the consequences! I appreciate that emotional tipping point. The "suicide move," if you will, that I'm so drawn to.
Another interesting facet is that while the overt goal is "Destroy All Autos!", in practice there are certain rules which must be followed:
- You have to begin with working brakes.
- NO hitting on the driver side door.
- You must hit another running car in every minute of "play"
I'm sure there are other rules, but they're lost on me. I bet Marce might know of some more.
8.09.2004
I Call First Watch!
I show up at work early and stay late. Of course, I also screw around posting blog/pcpress stuff, so I don't have much room to brag.
Anyhow, suffice it to say I'm the last to leave the building. Tonight I left after the builders. Rather I tried leaving after the builders.
Or rather, I tried leaving after the builders accidentally cut through the fire alarm.
The alarm and sprinklers will still work inside the school, but it won't notify anyone outside of impending destruction. The builders (destroyers?) are long gone and the fire chief has insisted that someone watch the building all night long. Fair enough.
Trouble is, I can't find anyone to take second watch. H is down in Mass., spending time with her father, my boss is on vacation, and my other boss hasn't answered my phone call. I'm on my own here.
Now what will likely happen is someone will get my phone messages and take second watch. But wouldn't it be fun if I was here all night and took the opportunity to post a story by scenes, written over a 12 hour period?
And of course, my story would be brilliant. ;)
Now if I can just find a coffee place that delivers ...
I show up at work early and stay late. Of course, I also screw around posting blog/pcpress stuff, so I don't have much room to brag.
Anyhow, suffice it to say I'm the last to leave the building. Tonight I left after the builders. Rather I tried leaving after the builders.
Or rather, I tried leaving after the builders accidentally cut through the fire alarm.
The alarm and sprinklers will still work inside the school, but it won't notify anyone outside of impending destruction. The builders (destroyers?) are long gone and the fire chief has insisted that someone watch the building all night long. Fair enough.
Trouble is, I can't find anyone to take second watch. H is down in Mass., spending time with her father, my boss is on vacation, and my other boss hasn't answered my phone call. I'm on my own here.
Now what will likely happen is someone will get my phone messages and take second watch. But wouldn't it be fun if I was here all night and took the opportunity to post a story by scenes, written over a 12 hour period?
And of course, my story would be brilliant. ;)
Now if I can just find a coffee place that delivers ...
Weekend Warriors
So H and I went to a demolition derby on Sunday afternoon, came home and made veggie sushi and then watched (read) the sub-titled version of City of God. The movie managed to avoid sentimentality and performed some storytelling pops and twists that would be interesting to try to duplicate in fiction.
But I know what you're really interested in. I'll post pictures from the derby tomorrow.
Note that H managed to call the winner in every heat. My picks all ended up in the scrap heap, or didn't manage to start at all. ("Stick with me, kid," she tells me.)
So H and I went to a demolition derby on Sunday afternoon, came home and made veggie sushi and then watched (read) the sub-titled version of City of God. The movie managed to avoid sentimentality and performed some storytelling pops and twists that would be interesting to try to duplicate in fiction.
But I know what you're really interested in. I'll post pictures from the derby tomorrow.
Note that H managed to call the winner in every heat. My picks all ended up in the scrap heap, or didn't manage to start at all. ("Stick with me, kid," she tells me.)
8.06.2004
8.04.2004
Dragonblog!
E.C.'s blog is open for business! I can already hear the clicking of the "favorites" icon.
Now if I could just think of something to write ... ;)
E.C.'s blog is open for business! I can already hear the clicking of the "favorites" icon.
Now if I could just think of something to write ... ;)
A Big, Deathy Welcome to the One and Only Elaine Cunningham!
Not only is she a great author, but she is also a kind and considerate person. Stop by her site and check it out. She's a hard working writer, mother, wife and creator of fabric dragons (!). Whenever I think I don't have time to write, I remember Elaine and chastise myself for being lazy.
Tag, you're it!
I deposited my first check from Wizards yesterday. Such a simple thing, but I had a dumb smile for the rest of the day. This isn't about the money, but the occasional affirmation that our writing is worth something is pretty nice.
And now? It's your turn. Eberron is calling for novels, and you know there will be anthologies. Let's nail this thing to the floor. (Note to self: don't forget the legal agreement!)
Not only is she a great author, but she is also a kind and considerate person. Stop by her site and check it out. She's a hard working writer, mother, wife and creator of fabric dragons (!). Whenever I think I don't have time to write, I remember Elaine and chastise myself for being lazy.
Tag, you're it!
I deposited my first check from Wizards yesterday. Such a simple thing, but I had a dumb smile for the rest of the day. This isn't about the money, but the occasional affirmation that our writing is worth something is pretty nice.
And now? It's your turn. Eberron is calling for novels, and you know there will be anthologies. Let's nail this thing to the floor. (Note to self: don't forget the legal agreement!)
7.30.2004
7.29.2004
And For My Next Trick!
("Mom, is the magician drunk?"
"No dear, just don't go near his assistant.")
At some point, when a story is good enough, it exceeds the boundaries of a genre.
The public has a notion of what fantasy fiction is, and its limitations. I don't buy it. But what holds us back are the cliches we use and the expectations we have of our readers.
For instance, when I wrote my Wizards story I could count on the target audience knowing what a D&D style dwarf is like. If I'm only working with 5000 words I don't want to spend a hell of a lot of time explaining what the reader already knows; it is sort of mental short hand, but it limits the ultimate effectiveness of the story.
To make a fine fantasy story, we need to take the stories and believe, really believe, that we are seeing the fantastic for the first time. Does this make sense? I'll try to explain more, in later postings.
All right, so watcha gonna do about it, Grims?
Ask for your stories, of course.
The theme for the next anthology: The Magical Experience.
That's it. Magic. It can be your own world, it can be the "real" world. Set in any time and any place. The trick is, it has to be real. Don't assume the reader knows what an elf is. Halflings? What the hell is a halfling?
This is an open call, so we'll consider stories from everyone, reject the ones that clearly aren't right, and work with the ones that show promise. If you have concerns about whether a story is appropriate, feel free to send in a synopsis.
Deadline for 1st Draft: November 1.
Word Count: A short as you like. As long as 10,000 words.
Payment: A small advance + shares, again, for first printing rights. Ew.
Oh yeah...and I promise I won't screw this one up. ;)
("Mom, is the magician drunk?"
"No dear, just don't go near his assistant.")
At some point, when a story is good enough, it exceeds the boundaries of a genre.
The public has a notion of what fantasy fiction is, and its limitations. I don't buy it. But what holds us back are the cliches we use and the expectations we have of our readers.
For instance, when I wrote my Wizards story I could count on the target audience knowing what a D&D style dwarf is like. If I'm only working with 5000 words I don't want to spend a hell of a lot of time explaining what the reader already knows; it is sort of mental short hand, but it limits the ultimate effectiveness of the story.
To make a fine fantasy story, we need to take the stories and believe, really believe, that we are seeing the fantastic for the first time. Does this make sense? I'll try to explain more, in later postings.
All right, so watcha gonna do about it, Grims?
Ask for your stories, of course.
The theme for the next anthology: The Magical Experience.
That's it. Magic. It can be your own world, it can be the "real" world. Set in any time and any place. The trick is, it has to be real. Don't assume the reader knows what an elf is. Halflings? What the hell is a halfling?
This is an open call, so we'll consider stories from everyone, reject the ones that clearly aren't right, and work with the ones that show promise. If you have concerns about whether a story is appropriate, feel free to send in a synopsis.
Deadline for 1st Draft: November 1.
Word Count: A short as you like. As long as 10,000 words.
Payment: A small advance + shares, again, for first printing rights. Ew.
Oh yeah...and I promise I won't screw this one up. ;)
Ignore the Man Behind the Curtain
Sorry to let everyone down, but it's going to be a little while before we have the print version in hand. Some old files got into the content, and I have to go back through and make sure everything is right.
Just wanted to be up front and let you guys know. Sorry, again.
Sorry to let everyone down, but it's going to be a little while before we have the print version in hand. Some old files got into the content, and I have to go back through and make sure everything is right.
Just wanted to be up front and let you guys know. Sorry, again.
7.28.2004
Your Technique is Weak, Grasshopper
My web-fu needs sharpening. This will have to do for now:
PoisonClanPress.com
My web-fu needs sharpening. This will have to do for now:
PoisonClanPress.com
"It's Tight Now,
Wait Until I Iron Out the Kinks..."
When I was a child I used to have just one recurring nightmare. It went something like this: I would be standing in a dark room, in the center of a circle of light. I'd here the twang of a bowstring and an arrow would shoot out of the darkness. I'd see it coming and step out of the way.
(C'mon, I was a kid addicted the fantasy fiction, all right? ;) )
A few seconds would pass, and it would happen again. And then again. And again. Each time they would come a from a different direction, each time they would come a little quicker.
I never actually got shot, but the "nightmare" part of the dream was when Harley the kid realized that, in the near future, they would come too fast for me to duck or block. I was able to predict it happening, and there was nothing I could do about it.
Yesterday was almost that day. Almost. While getting the GT pdf up I ran into fourteen different hassles, then work imploded, then the board meeting .... then the pdf had more problems ... then ...
You get the idea. Nothing terrible or dramatic in and of itself - each just a single arrow shot from the darkness - but taken together they were just short of an "eargh!" moment.
Whew. Still, yesterday, wasn't that day. Almost, but not quite.
So, where do we stand?
Wait Until I Iron Out the Kinks..."
When I was a child I used to have just one recurring nightmare. It went something like this: I would be standing in a dark room, in the center of a circle of light. I'd here the twang of a bowstring and an arrow would shoot out of the darkness. I'd see it coming and step out of the way.
(C'mon, I was a kid addicted the fantasy fiction, all right? ;) )
A few seconds would pass, and it would happen again. And then again. And again. Each time they would come a from a different direction, each time they would come a little quicker.
I never actually got shot, but the "nightmare" part of the dream was when Harley the kid realized that, in the near future, they would come too fast for me to duck or block. I was able to predict it happening, and there was nothing I could do about it.
Yesterday was almost that day. Almost. While getting the GT pdf up I ran into fourteen different hassles, then work imploded, then the board meeting .... then the pdf had more problems ... then ...
You get the idea. Nothing terrible or dramatic in and of itself - each just a single arrow shot from the darkness - but taken together they were just short of an "eargh!" moment.
Whew. Still, yesterday, wasn't that day. Almost, but not quite.
So, where do we stand?
- GT is at the printers. As soon as it is available, you'll be the first to know.
- Thanks to Noise of MNTS, Poison Clan Press now has its own domain and page ... which is - of course- now outdated. I'll clean it up today if I get a chance. Eventually it will have code to buy copies of GT pdf/print, and links to authors/artists along with their bios.
- We're beginning work on the next anthology, as well as our first d20 product. We'll be contacting authors in the next few months.
- Correspondence. I got a metric ton of email yesterday. Give me a little bit to get through it all.
- GT corrections. I found a handful of really minor, yet really annoying errors in the RPGnow file. This is my highest priority of the day. Pronto, pronto, pronto.
- Related to the above: editing. I'm not the best, and PCP can't afford to not have quality editing. So we bit the bullet and took on a "real" editor. You'll see her editing work in the next antho.
Whew.
Meanwhile, I can't sleep cause I'm so excited about GT. Heh. Still just a litte kid at heart.
Rock on Chicago. Rock over London! Too excited to know when to say when.
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