One, holy crap, a complete stranger actually read my book and wrote in to say she liked it EEE!. This does not happen to me very often at all, people. Faerie Blood hasn’t sold more than a few hundred copies to the best of my knowledge, and believe me, I’m still totally double-taking at the thought that people I don’t actually know have actually read it!

But with that in mind, O Internets, I urge you: if you loved a book, take the time to write in and let the author know. It doesn’t have to be effusive or detailed. It can just be ‘I really enjoyed your book, thank you so much!’ Even hearing that much is music to an author’s ears. We’re putting our darlings out there in the hope that somebody will in fact read ‘em, so any proof that they’re getting read? Gold.

And two, holy crap this complete stranger wants to read more of my work! Sure, it’s work that hasn’t actually been published yet, but in some ways that’s even more awesome. That’s taking an active interest.

So I’ve flung back a Facebook note to the person in question, and we will see where this goes. In the meantime, public mad props to Ghislaine for taking the time to write in!

All the rest of you? If you loved an author’s work, thank them. And if you’re an author, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that your readers are made entirely of awesome. Or that your beta readers kick up the awesome another order of magnitude entirely. Hug your beta readers today!

Noting this now by way of general accountability. I may post status updates during that week–again, for purposes of accountability–but I can’t guarantee I’ll answer any comments on them.

We’ll see how much I can get done before then; any little bit I can get done before does after all further the goal. And anything I can write above and beyond finishing the edits on Lament will be bonus. Christopher and Kendis are looking VERY expectant in the back of my brain, you know.

So there you have it. If you think you might want to get a hold of me during that week for whatever reason, email, text, or phone will be best! If you think you should have those means of contacting me and you don’t, let me know.

Underneath everything, underneath the machinations of the industry and the terrible dance of agent-getting and submissions, underneath the despair and joy and wild mood swings, underneath the misery and extraordinary grace of trying to make art–underneath it all, we just want to sit together and tell stories.

Meanwhile, over on John Scalzi’s Whatever, today’s Big Idea post for Leviathan Wakes by James S.A. Corey gives you this bit of YES:

Writing genre fiction is undignified. Reading genre fiction is undignified. If we’re going to do this, it should be joyful. We should create a little literary pocket universe where we can shuck off the irony and defensiveness and care about these imaginary people, and weep for them, feel awe when they’re awed, triumph with them when they win, and grieve with them when they fail. If there is any sense of wonder to be had, it’s there. Wonder is what we come here for.

THIS. THIS SO MUCH. That bit of that post alone has convinced me to go get that book.

solarbird

One of the things I’m thinking of doing with mine is seeing if I can write effectively on it. So if you’re a writer and an iPad owner (first OR second generation model), I’m very interested in hearing about whether you find them effective writing devices! If so, what apps do you use? I’ve kind of liked Documents To Go on my iPhone and I plan to see how well I can use it on the iPad, but I’m open to other suggestions as well!

I got one yesterday, and it struck me particularly badly since a couple of folks I know have had the recent awesome fortune of landing agents. The last thing I wanted to do though was whinge to the Internet about yet another rejection letter. Instead, I opted to get out of the house for a while. And although I had the phone with me, I tried to make a point of minimally checking the Internet, too, to eliminate the temptation to whinge. I thought it’d be way more constructive if I got out and did some exercise and maybe spent some time checking various used bookstores for a couple of books I want.

This wound up taking me all the way into downtown Seattle, then back up through the U-district and Ravenna, and finally into Lake City, Kenmore, and home. I walked about four miles all told and visited a total of eight bookstores, and I rode four different busses through the course of the afternoon. And even though I didn’t find the books I was looking for, I did come home with two others: Bloodshot, the new one by cmpriest, and a used copy of Named of the Dragon, by Susanna Kearsley.

By the time I got home I felt less depressed and more at peace. Today, I have sent out more query letters and have felt more like getting back to work. One of today’s queries is in fact going out by snailmail, which is unusual for me since I tend to focus on the people who take email queries–but I’m needing to go farther afield now to find the people who represent more flavors of fantasy than “urban”.

How do you deal with rejection letters, my fellow writers?

Because here’s the thing, y’all. You pick up a novel where the lead character is a musician, that musician is probably going to be playing one of a set of “sexy” instruments. This isn’t just a fantasy novel thing, though god knows fantasy has its share of fiddle players and guitarists and flautists and harpists–mystery and romance are guilty of this, too! (And yes, I say this fully cognizant of the fact that I’ve got four, count ‘em, four musicians in Faerie Blood–a violinist and a bouzouki player as the lead characters, as well as a guitarist and a whistle player in the supporting cast.)

But you know what you don’t get? Books that show love to the less sexy instruments, and do so in a non-comedic fashion. Anybody out there EVER read a serious story about an accordion player? How about the French horn? And I say right now that I will hand over a free copy of Faerie Blood to anybody who can find me a serious novel about a tuba player. Until that happens, I am totally going to write one.

And this will be a serious, actual fantasy novel in which the tuba player gets to save the day. I don’t know yet what the plot will be, other than that I wish to screw around with the Instrumental Duel With the Fey trope–only this time, the guy that’s going to be bringing it is going to bringing it with a tuba.

Once I decided I was going to do this, this guy immediately started taking shape in my brain. Tonight’s writing-related thing was opening a character file about him, to jot down all the thoughts bouncing around about him.

I know this much: his name is Oscar Beck, he is a prototypical gawky nerd type, and the one thing in life he is awesome at is that he can pull music out of a tuba to make an audience weep. He reads like a crazy reading thing as well because music and books are way less scary than interacting with actual people, and so he’s a big, big fan of Lord Peter Wimsey, as an example of a hero who is a) awesomely brilliant, b) a musician, and c) not handsome in the slightest, yet possessed of thermonuclear charisma! He would rather die than admit it to anybody as well, but he has totally nicknamed his tuba the Horn of Helm Hammerhand, because he is an utter Tolkien geek and he loves him some Battle of Helm’s Deep.

Oscar, it’s delightful to meet you. And boy, are YOU going to be surprised when you find out that girl in the last chair of the oboe section is way, WAY more unusual than she seems. Not to mention that you and the Horn are going to have to save the city. And possibly the world.

Props to kathrynt for suggesting some examples of tuba-oriented classical music–because to get a better idea of what Oscar is like, I’m going to want to listen to examples of what an incredibly well played tuba should actually sound like. Anybody out there have recommendations, fling ‘em at me! Props as well to technoshaman for giving Oscar his last name!

Right off the bat, the first thought that pops into someone’s head when they see me is oh god, a fat psychic. Not that anybody ever actually says that, but they don’t need to. I can see it in the way eyes go wide and then flick a glance up and down my frame, as if expecting that a woman of what we shall charitably refer to as “size”, a woman who also claims paranormal abilities, isn’t dressed more outrageously–as if perhaps I should be swathed in a leopard-print caftan, with an artfully arranged fruit basket on my head.

Also, hello? Psychic. In my case, that packs a double whammy. I get visions, but I get people’s thoughts too. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, those I meet don’t need to say a word to convey their doubts about me. I can pick them fresh and piping hot right out of their brains. I swear, it’s enough to drive a girl into the warm, loving company of the nearest chocolate cake.

All of which is why, when a man came into my shop on a Thursday afternoon and broadcast not the slightest hint of disdain for either my body type or what the colorfully painted sign by the door proclaimed I could do, I was absolutely thunderstruck.

I’ll see what else I can figure out about her later.

What I remember about it is that it involved a guy who had lost his memory for some reason and was living homeless on the streets. He’s found by a woman who clearly knows him and who was probably his love interest or potential love interest–and who had been convinced that he’d disappeared on purpose. But when she realizes the state he’s in, she takes pity on him and takes him home.

Random bits I remember from the dream:

• The guy’s name was Alex or possibly Alec Chambers.
• The woman’s name was possibly Rachel.
• It wasn’t set in Seattle, or at the very least, the parts of Seattle I usually frequent. The place I remember Rachel finding Alex on was up on a hill and overlooking a lower area; the street was wide but lined with trees and seemed generally pretty. It’s possible that my brain might have been keying off of parts of West Seattle or maybe Capitol Hill, but I’m pretty sure not.
• Whatever street Alex is on when Rachel finds him, it’s not Fourth Street. Rachel asked Alex why he was where he was, and he said something like “On Fourth Street, they find you.”
• When Rachel takes Alex home, the place she takes him looks like a church and Alex comments to her, “You live in a church?” She explains that this is home. I remember them driving in under a walkway of some sort between two different parts of the building. I got the impression that part of the building had been converted to apartments, or something. There may be more story there as to why Rachel was actually living there.
• There were children, two or three of them. But it was unclear to me whether they were actually Rachel’s children, either by Alex or by the other guy who showed up, or whether they were younger siblings or cousins or something. They were nonetheless pleased to see Alex but distressed at the state he was in, and took pity on him.
• Another man shows up who was clearly a prior rival to Alex for Rachel’s affections. He has a lot of luggage with him and is clearly expecting to stay at Rachel’s place, and he snarks at her about where “he” (i.e., Alex) is going to sleep. Alex says mildly that that’s up to Rachel.
• There’s a dinner scene where Alex catches himself handling dishes in a certain way and he realizes in wonder that he’s left-handed, which is something he hadn’t remembered about himself. (My brain then tried to play with this, I think, because I remember replays of the same bit in which he also noticed he was right-handed, and then that he was possibly ambidextrous.)
• There’s a playground scene where the children are trying to get Alex to play hide and seek with them.

After that I think I was either waking up or dropping more heavily back into sleep, because I started getting more random dream-like bits such as Alex trying to fly, which made less sense. But I wonder if there’s a story here that I can play with. Maybe Alex is a Warder somewhere.

• They are specifically DRM-free.
• If you write romance, they’re taking not only same-sex pairings, but also romances involving more than two people. All levels of sensuality are under consideration.
• They’re taking all genres, not just romance. More interesting to me in particular, they’re accepting SF/F submissions of several varieties. SF/F with or without romantic elements to the plot is mentioned in their guidelines.

So if you have any interest in being electronically published and if in particular you’re anti-DRM, you may consider checking Carina Press out. Props to the fine ladies of Smart Bitches Trashy Books for spreading the word!