I'm almost finished with revisions to the story. In the end, that long list of things I thought I needed to change dwindled down to maybe about 30-40 little tweaks. The three problem threads have been expanded slightly - problems solved, in other words. Revising is like neurosugery: you have to be careful not to cure the disease yet kill the patient in the process. I think I've succeeded in saving the patient. She was never really in danger, anyway.

Just a few days ago, I finally summed up the courage to read the long paragraph of critiquing that one of the Clarion instructors wrote on the back of their copy of the ms. I don't know why I'd been avoiding it, except that maybe I was so afraid that the praise they'd given to me in class couldn't possibly have been correct - I'd been hearing things, when they said "I wish I'd written this story". But: they wrote it on the back of the story. It's there in black and white. I wasn't dreaming. And they also wrote this:

"I will enjoy thinking of your Clarion class going forth, like the 400,000, to destroy genre."

I don't know if "The Four Hundred Thousand" will ever be published. On Monday I'll send it out, and promptly emotionally divorce myself from its fate so I can devote myself to the next project. But for the next few days, I'll let myself be as proud of my writing, and myself, as I can possibly be. I know this feeling won't happen very often in my "career", so I'll take it when I can. It may not happen again.

I finally had something of a break-through today in terms of revising the sf story. I've learned that what works best for me in terms of solving problem threads/plots is to let the work sit for a while, and let my subconscious work on it. Well, the past couple of days of sickness did the trick. No writing = problem solved. At least, I hope that what I thought up works. At any rate, I feel like I'm back on track. I'm still hoping to have revisions finished by the first of October, so I can start in on some new stories. Now the only problem left concerning "The Four Hundred Thousand" is where to send it to. I'll need to do a little market research this week as well. Science fiction that reads like fantasy that has undertones of horror? Oh, yeah. I'll find lots of places for this piece.... ::headdesk::

I really have no other updates, or any exciting news. Sorry this is so boring....

When I walked from KGB to the PATH station last Wednesday evening, I knew by the time I hit the stairs that I'd get a cold. I realize that it sounds like I willed myself (to a degree) to get sick, but the fact is, when it's cold and windy, the first thing that happens is I get some kind of ear & throat infection. And by Friday, I was sick. I couldn't take time off from work, so I had to wait till I got home to collapse. I just crawled out of bed about half an hour ago. I feel better, but now I have hair like Carrot Top. Oh sweet jebus, the horror....

Tomorrow, I'm setting aside "The Four Hundred Thousand" for a bit to start work on an erotica story - I'd been panicking over it, because I started second-guessing my ability to write something worthy of an anthology invite (there's no guarantee the story will be accepted, as the invite is only to submit, not to publish). The backdrop of the story is supposed to be a kind of "Brokeback Mountain" cowboy theme - not necessarily gay, but specifically cowboys and that kind of uneasy blend of urban/Western environment they reside in today. I didn't think I could do it - what the hell do I know about cowboys? - until I remembered the many, many times I went to the Western Washington Fair (aka The Puyallup), and the huge rodeo/roping events they held there. The cowboys weren't of the rhinestone variety - they were rough and rugged and taciturn, very formidable-looking yet fascinating as I recall.... Well, you can see I have my story. I'll write it over the next week, then set it aside to give "TFHT" a last look before sending it out.

And now it's back to bed.

Yesterday afternoon I met up with some NYC-area Clarionites (Robert Levy, Sean Manseau and Chris Cevasco to start an informal workshop/critique circle, after which most of us went on to the KGB reading - Delia Sherman read from her first novel Changling, and Ellen Kushner (whose novel Swordpoint is out) gave us a ½-hour radio-style performance comprised of a story and some rather beautiful and haunting songs. I also got to speak very briefly (well, apologize very briefly) to Crispin Glover as he politely vaulted out of our way when we lumbered up the steps to the bar. He was in the middle of a photo shoot, and could have been an asshole about it, but was quite diplomatic instead. Looking back on all the "celebrities who are raging assholes" moments I've had in NYC, I must say this was a delightful change of pace.

At some point the discussion of upcoming projects came up, and I realized that it was about this time last year that I'd decided to make 2006 the "Year of the Story" - that is, to concentrate not on novels but short stories and novelettes. My reasoning was twofold: 1) I wanted to work on my craft, and felt the shorter form was better suited for seeing what I was doing wrong and what I needed to fix - there's no hiding in a 5000-word story, where as the novel can be more forgiving of flaws; and 2) I wanted an inventory of "product" that I could send out and hopefully get published while I worked on my next novel.

I think it's safe to say that by December's end I'll have fulfilled both parts of that goal I set for myself in late 2005. I'll have a little less inventory than I'd hoped for, but I've come to accept that I'm not a fast writer of short fiction. I can successfully write, revise, and polish one story every month. With 3-½ months to go, I should have another three stories and one already half-written novella ready by January. Those four pieces, along with two stories already in submission, and two stories that are currently under revision, will total nine items I can submit to various markets during the first half of 2007. While those stories circulate, I'll write the novella trilogy I've already outlined - it was originally intended to be mainstream erotica, but I've decided to give it a little Lovecraftian steampunk twist and pitch it to small genre publishers. Once the trilogy is finished, then I'll spend the rest of 2007 working on two short (under 100k words) novels that I'm in the first stages of outlining. I'll probably write a few stories during the year, but for the most part 2007 will be "Year of the Novel".

2008 will no doubt be the year of "OMG Why Won't Anyone Buy My Weird Novel Shit?!" But that's a long ways in the future - I'll worry about it then. :)

In the past 24 hours, I've received two emails - one from a Clarion instructor, and one from a fellow workshopper - both with very similar requests: that I not make too many changes in my last story, "The Four Hundred Thousand". It's only coincidence - I doubt most of the class even remembers the story, let along wonder what I'm doing to it. However, it does bring up an interesting topic: when you have 23 individual critiques of one story, how much of the story do you change based on those critiques? And how much do you let the Clarion instructors influence your revisions?

For both "Take Your Daughters to Work" and "Jetsam", I'll be honest: I ended up taking the comments of one instructor and applying them to the stories. While many of my classmates and the other instructors had very valid criticisms, they were all so different from each other, that I eventually realized I had to pick one critique out of all the others - otherwise, I'd still be revising, trying to fit in everyone's comments. The fact is, though, there will always be people who don't like my work, or think I should have done "X" where I did "Y" - and a few instructors felt that one or both stories should be trunked, that they were complete failures on every level. But you can't please everyone, so pick and choose the critiques you think are best for the story, and forget about the rest. I decided that the instructors who wanted the stories trunked had valid points to make, but that I still wanted to see if I could get them published. In the case of "Take Your Daughters", I and the instructors who loved the piece were right. In the case of "Jetsam", the instructors who thought it was unpublishable may be right - time will tell.

In the case of "The Four Hundred Thousand", I've had a bit of an easier time, because most of the criticisms focused on three very specific parts of the story - I'll call them "father", "syringe", and "ending". As each person in the Clarion workshop gave me a 1-1/2 minute encapsulation of their critique, I wrote down key points in a notebook. Time after time, I wrote "father", "syringe", and "ending" - the three parts/subplots of the story that everyone agreed (including myself) needed to be fixed.

However, when I got the written manuscripts back, for the most part all 23 had very different individual micro-level editing comments on the pages. Some people loved the title, others hated it. Each person had a different view of how the first paragraph should be written - a few people rewrote/reworded the first sentence for me, others rewrote the second sentence, and other rewrote the third. The fact is, I can't accept everyone's criticisms - it's not possible to rewrite one sentence according to three or five or seven very different opinions, and satisfy everyone. So, I ended up picking only three full manuscript critiques to use out of the 21 critiques of the class, and set the rest aside. (And no, I'm not going to say whose critiques I decided to use.) I also put Holly Black's and Kelly Link's in the pile of "to use" - so I ended up with five critiques in all. That's still a lot, though - Holly and Kelly give extremely thorough comments throughout the piece, in addition to overall criticism.

Next, I set all those comments aside, and just read the story. I didn't pick up the pen, didn't make notes - I only read it for pleasure. That said, I noticed right away which parts I wanted to change, which sentences fell down, what areas really worked. I set it aside for a day, then came back to it, and read it again. This time, I took notes, both on the actual pages, and in a MS Excel spreadsheet, where I listed all the things that I felt needed to be changed. In all, I listed close to a hundred things - ranging from little tweaks of logic in single sentences to full revisions of characters. Now as I'm going through the story, I'm inserting in new material, taking out old, and only occasionally referring to the five manuscript critiques that I've chosen to use. I won't use everyone's suggestions, but it'll be helpful to have dissenting opinions in front of me as I revise, if nothing else as a reminder that I don't have to please everyone. This story is not for everyone, no story can be. Not even Harry Potter. :)

This all sounds like a lot of ripping apart, of turning the story into something else - and possibly ruining the very thing that made so many people like it, which I think is the concern of the emails. And yet when I finish, not that much will have changed. The style, voice and tense won't have changed, and the plot is exactly what it needs to be - that is, the journey of the protagonist is fixed, because it works. A few subplots - the "father", the "syringe" - will be revised, but won't deviate much from where they are now in terms of how many words are devoted to them in the piece. The "ending" will be lengthened and "plumped up" slightly, to make it stronger. But any Clarionite who reads the story post-revision won't think that the original story was butchered. I'm not ripping it apart. I'm mending a few cracks, then I'm polishing.

I suppose I should say what the story is about - not a lot of people read this blog, so up until now, I haven't bothered. But I should probably give a small synopsis for the few of you who weren't at Clarion. The story is science fiction, and it's based on an idea I got for a poem exercise that Joe and Gay Haldeman gave to the class. We each had to pick a theme out of a hat, and then a poetic form out of another. I got "Shakespearean sonnet" and "future war". Well, I freaked: what the fuck do I know about "future war"? I've never written sf, I don't know anything about science or the military. Yeah, much freaking.... Then I realized that I needed to approach this not from "what science do you know?" but "what kind of people do you usually write about, and how can they can be placed into a science fiction setting?" Because, it's about the character's journey, I reminded myself. If you can find the right character and the right journey, the right science for the story will come to you. Well, I write about young women, about transformation and sexual awakening, and that frightening, sorrowful moment that exists between leaving childhood and entering adulthood. So, I said to myself, what could a young woman at that momentous cusp in her life possibly contribute to a future war....?

:)

I spent most of yesterday putting together my desk. It wasn't fun - this isn't a typical Ikea desk of a single light blonde wood panel held aloft with a few slender steel poles. I hammered together a very heavy (and "traditional" looking) dark wood desk, then managed to get it from an upside down position into an upright one, and drag it into a corner of the living room. Shockingly, I did this without throwing my back out or scratching deep grooves into the wood floor - although I did take a long nap after. But I've recovered, and have already set up shop on the thing, so to speak. I'm currently switching back and forth between rewrites of "The Four Hundred Thousand" and writing a new story, of which I have about 600 words so far. It looks like it's going to be YA, so if I get it finished before the end of the month, I may have a specific place to send it to. We'll see.

No more furniture buying for the near future. I think my next home purchase will be something nice and easy to set up. I think that means pillows.

I've sent my application off to the HWA for affiliate membership - they're now waiting for me to fax them proof of my sale to Subterranean Magazine. Once I receive a copy of the signed contract, I can fax it to them with proof of payment, and I'll finally be in (after I pay the membership fee, of course). I've heard both good and bad things about HWA, but it's not going to kill me to cough up a year's membership and actually see what the member forums are like, rather than making a decision based on hearsay.

This Saturday I finally, finally get my desk delivered to me. Last night I had broadband internet and basic cable tv installed in my apartment - the poor technician practically had to rip half the building apart to find the television cables, but I insisted that he do it or suffer my wrath. I don't watch that much tv, but seeing ghostly five-headed reporters on the morning news was getting to be a bit much even for me. Naturally I did nothing constructive last night, instead surfing the web and catching up on iTunes downloads, but I tell myself that I need writing soundtracks, so it was a partially-legitimate waste of time.

Sadly, once I get the desk, I'll have no more excuses not to start writing new stories again. Hello, 3000-word evenings. I guess summer is really over.

I'm in the middle of rewriting the last story I wrote at Clarion - "The Four Hundred Thousand". I've stopped using such words and phrases as "revise" or "touch up", as they were nothing more than a pathetic attempt to fool myself into believing that the story didn't need that much work. But in order to fix the things that need fixing, I'm having to rewrite pretty much every single sentence. Yes, it'll be far better when finished. But, frankly, it's a pain in the ass. I know some writers love the revision process. Gah, I say. Bleh! And also: Arg!

My plan is to finish this up and have it out the door by the end of the month. Next up will be writing two stories for two anthologies - one antho is being edited by someone who very graciously invited me to submit after being sent a letter by a fellow writer (much thanks to Steve Berman), and the other antho's editor is the same person who already has something of mine in submission for a collection of dark erotic fantasy stories. I need the stories completed and out the door by October 31 - it seems like a long time for just two stories, but I think I've already established that I'm slow with the stories. Also, I'll be spending much of October researching Victorian culture. Yes, the exciting and fast-paced world of steampunk is just around the corner - the plan is to rewrite an old novella in November and start outlining my next novel in December (both will be set in the same world). I'll also be researching insects, the culture of mining company towns, and reading a lot of Lovecraft. I don't know if this'll all come together the way I plan, but it'll be interesting finding out, to say the least.

My entry to A Field Guide to Surreal Botany was accepted! It'll either be published in the actual guide or be put up on the accompanying website - either one is fine with me. A website entry is something I can point more people to than will probably buy the guide, but it's always nice to have something in print. Both the website and guide will have accompanying illustrations by Janet Chui. Hopefully I can buy the original print from her when she's finished.

Only six more days until I get broadband internet access at home. Then you'll all very quickly get sick and tired of my crazy-assed three am posts about how horror sucks and there are no good writers left out there since Shirley Jackson died and where's the rest of the goddamn wine? Or, you might be quite amused. Either way, it'll be fun for all of us.

No word yet on whether my submission to Surreal Botany made it or not. I figure I can cool my heels until next Monday, then send a polite email inquiry off. I'm thinking that it probably wasn't accepted - which isn't the end of the world, but I'd like to know for sure. I just post it here if they gave it a pass.

I've started revising the last story I wrote at Clarion, and I'll probably post a few things about it on my Clarion lj - it's an interesting experience to have to balance my own thoughts of what the story needs, along with the comments of 21 other students, plus (extremely) detailed critiques by two instructors. More on that later.

And: I just signed the contracts for the Subterranean Magazine sale of "Take Your Daughters". Now I feel like it's official. However, the title will need to be changed, as it's too "jokesy" for the dark tone of the story. I know some writers freak if their titles are changed - if this were a novel, I'd probably have a hard time, but only because I'd have invested a lot more in the choosing of what I thought was the perfect title. The fact that I'm completely ok with this is a clear indication that it wasn't the right title to begin with. Fortunately, I can dig through the Clarion critiques and see if anyone came up with anything that'll work. Maybe "The Chains You Don't Refuse", as a reply to Elizabeth Bear? Ha, ok, maybe not... :)