The Night Bazaar | Category Archive

Posts in the "The Year in Review" Category

My (short) list of the Best of 2012

The Year in Review

Hello, everyone. I’m Richard Lee Byers, a newcomer to the Night Bazaar, here because Night Shade Books has just released Blind God’s Bluff: A Billy Fox Novel. It’s an urban fantasy, and I hope you’ll check it out. (Okay, there’s the plug out of the way.)

It’s been suggested that I give you my list of outstanding genre entertainments from 2012. I feel sheepish because it’s going to be kind of a short list. One of the paradoxes of being a writer is that you get into the profession because you love to read. Then you find out the time and mental energy you have to devote to reading are considerably diminished.

Or at least that’s the case with me. I wasn’t able to read all that many books in 2012, and when I did, I was often catching up with stuff a couple years old, not checking out new releases.

Still, partly because I’m writing the stuff myself now, I did make a point of sampling some urban fantasy. I’m a fan of Simon R. Green, and while Ghost of a Dream isn’t one of his very best novels, it has the fast pace, humor, and freewheeling imagination that grace all his books. Cold Days is a strong new installment of Jim Butcher’s “Dresden Files” series. The series (I thought) lost a little steam as the conflict with the Red Court ran on, but starting with Changes, it got really good again, and the new book keeps up the momentum. My favorite urban fantasy, though, was The Dirty Streets of Heaven, by Tad Williams. Williams is one of my favorite writers, and his first foray into urban fantasy is engaging, suspenseful, and full of fresh ideas.

I also made a point of reading some Cthulhu Mythos stories simply because I’ve been into Lovecraft’s creation ever since I was a teenager. And the best Mythos stories by other hands demonstrate HPL’s ideas are rich enough that another writer can use them to create something genuinely new. They aren’t mere pastiches any more than I Am Legend is a pastiche of Dracula.

Anyway, of those I read in 2012, two were especially good. The Apocalypse Codex, by Charles Stross, is the latest installment in “The Laundry Files.” These novels combine horror, humor, a science-fictional perspective, and spy-novel shtick to brilliant effect, and the new one is no exception. The Croning, by Laird Barron, is similarly innovative in its plotting and use of language and chilling throughout, a true evocation of cosmic fear.

Although I don’t read as many novels as I used to, I still blast through a good many comics, mainly the new adventures of the same superheroes I loved as a kid. DC grabbed my attention with the current Batman story featuring the Joker. If it ends as well as it started, it’s going to be great. At Marvel, the “kid Loki” saga in Journey into Mystery wrapped up a brilliant run, and then the publisher launched Hawkeye, its new best book. But the coolest thing currently in comics is Dark Horse’s Hellboy in Hell. Ever since the character began, fans have been waiting for this story, and now that it’s finally arrived, Mike Mignola is drawing as well as writing it, just like in the old days. You can’t get better than that.

Since I am a superhero fan, my favorite movie was The Avengers, which I thought was fantastic from start to finish. I also loved Cabin in the Woods for playing with horror-movie tropes to clever and often hilarious effect. So, thank you, Joss Whedon!

On television, Game of Thrones continued to demonstrate that by God, there can be an absorbing, high-quality epic-fantasy show. I never would have believed it. Nor did I expect I’d ever see a horror series as wild and crazy as American Horror Story, as gritty as The Walking Dead, or as clever and subversive as Supernatural. To me, the latter is particularly impressive because let’s face it, the story probably should have ended when Sam and Dean prevented the Apocalypse. But that was a few seasons back, and the show’s still imaginative and entertaining.

And with that, onward into the new year! I’ve got a hunch Hansel and Gretel will not make my list of the Best of 2013, but you never know until you park your ass in the theater seat or crack open that new novel. That’s part of the joy of being in the audience.
Read More...
The Little Black Book

The Year in Review

I carry around a little black notebook. Most of us do, in some fashion or another. Mine is a Moleskine daily journal from 2007, when I had the idea of writing a full page every day and filling the notebook in a year. It’s taken me five years, and I’m down to the last few pages. In the front, I set aside a page for a table of contents, marking the start and end date of every project. It starts with The Potemkin Mosaic and ends with Earth Thirst. 2007 was also the year of my first professional short story sale (“How the Mermaid Lost Her Song” at Strange Horizons), which makes this little black book the record of my first five years of writing professionally.

There are eleven projects listed (one is still under wraps); five have been published (Potemkin, two CODEX books, two Foreworld books, and Earth Thirst); two—Instrument and Rabbit’s Foot—are novels in the universe that I have several short stories in; and the rest are isolated projects that are still in the germinative state.

Notice that the start date for Angel Tongue is a month before I finished Heartland. I’m just pointing that out to keep the nay-sayers at bay.

Which puts me at just under fifty percent, which I find to be a pretty good percentage. Of course, things don’t get put on the front page of the book until they’re far enough along to warrant keeping notes. And the list doesn’t really reflect that I did a lot of ruminating in the early years (through 2009), and in the last few, I’ve been spending more time writing than wool-gathering. Nor does this list reflect the five novellas that were written in the back half of 2012 (all of which will be out by this coming February). All in all, I wrote nearly 200,000 words last year and did editorial rewriting on another half million.

I started another writing notebook this week. It has three projects with start dates of January 1st. BLOOD HARVEST, HERE BE MONSTERS, and ANGEL TONGUE. I used to be an intensive planner, but looking back on the full writer’s notebook, I have to admit that very little of that was on my five year plan. My goal in the next year is to write one of those three books listed above. Maybe we should do a pool. Long odds on ANGEL TONGUE, of course.
Read More...
The Year of Magical, uh, Magic.

The Life

Seriously, who thinks a kid like this is going to grow up to be a reader? Kids like this grow up to put horses' heads in other people's beds.

Oh, gee-whiz. I’m terrible at these Year’s Best things. I don’t read, for Pete’s sake!

Still, I understand why it should look like I read now and then; I am, after all, sort of a writer. It looks bad if I just admit to the fact that I do nothing all day but sit in front of the TV with my feet buried in a baked chicken. (Yes, it’s cold in my house. And yes, I like my feet to smell like chicken. Don’t judge. You do weird crap sometimes, too.)

Okay, to be serious: I usually read far more science fiction than fantasy, but this year (and last year, honestly) have been very fantasy-heavy. I suppose that’s because I sold my own fantasy novel — or at least a novel that reads a great deal like fantasy – and as a result found myself far more interested in the magical genre than is usual. (I also found myself reading a lot of Night Shade’s books, because, well, they became my publisher.)

And you know what? I loved every minute. The works I read defied easy categorization. They were intelligent, efficiently written, and immensely entertaining.

Here are the five that stood out the most. Unfortunately, all but one was published in 2011, but each represents a series that extends into or beyond 2012:

#

Carolyn Ives Gilman’s Isles of the Forsaken (ChiZine; published 2011)

It’s no secret that I love ChiZine’s books, but this one took me by special surprise — largely because I didn’t really like it for the first third or so. In fact, I nearly put it down several times. I wasn’t all that crazy about the characters, most of whom have little enough virtue to recommend them. And much like Bradley Beaulieu’s debut (see below), Isles is a slow burn of a novel. It takes a good while to get into.

But once you’ve got your feet under you, it proves a great experience. This is a thinking person’s fantasy novel, relatively low on action and magic but heavy on speculation. In other words, this is not Peter V. Brett or Brent Weeks (not to say anything bad about either of those authors, necessarily). Gilman takes on the unenviable task of looking at native cultures and the effects of colonialism, and what she ends up saying is far from ethically tidy. In fact, it’s disquieting in its ambiguity.

I like that particular move in recent fantasy, away from pat statements of morality and toward the inexplicable or simple unjust. It’s, in many ways, a return to the kind of harsh environments that James Tiptree, Jr., Joanna Russ, and — particularly — Ursula Le Guin visited forty years ago. In this light, Isles resembles no other work as obviously as it does “The Word for World is Forest.”

#

Jeff Salyards’ Scourge of the Betrayer (Night Shade; published 2012)

I wasn’t too convinced when I saw the cover, or when I read the synopsis. You see, I’m not crazy into military fiction of any stripe. It’s just not my thing. Also, like many people, I’m getting right tired of the “gritty,” “grimdark” style of fantasy. I’m tired of reading about men’s men doing manly shit, spitting and cursing and all the time fucking and/or raping.

It’s getting old, already, its usefulness as a counterpoint to morally simplistic heroic fantasy long at an end.

But, but, but… When something’s done right, it deserves notice. (Not that Salyards needed any help from me this year. I watched Scourge receive so much positive press, it blew me away. It was encouraging to see a new somebody, published by my new publisher, making such waves.) The novel is a wonder of intimacy, honestly; it’s a close-up and personal sort of fantasy, violent and introspective by equal turns.

The funny thing is that it’s not really what it was marketed as — or maybe it is, and I just don’t see it. As I said, I’m not into military fantasy, but this reads little like Glen Cook or Joe Abercrombie. It reads like… Well, it reads like Salyards. It’s distinctive, and compelling, and utterly unique to speculative literature.

#

Jo Anderton’s Debris (Angry Robot; published 2011)

Oh, goodness, I was excited about this one. I love a very unambiguous mashup of science fiction and fantasy. I was a little weary of the steampunk label because, well, I don’t really like steampunk, but — to me, at least — Debris did not read much like steampunk at all. (Funny fact, though: Anderton told me that while writing it she very much considered it a steampunk story. Oh, well. Maybe I’m the crazy one.)

What it did read like was… I don’t even know, honestly. It stands out in my mind precisely because it was such an odd combination of factors: Russian names (and perhaps social constructs, though I’m acquainted enough with Russian culture enough to know), make-believe physics, and a weird city that never really comes into focus.

For all of its thrilling oddness, this last factor — a lack of descriptive focus — ultimately made Debris an anger-inducing frustration at various points. It could only be me who experienced this problem, but I had very little sense of place or of physical description throughout. Anderton failed, for me, in one of the most important tasks an sff author is charged with: to create vivid descriptions of all the weird shit being thrown at the reader.

It felt like I was in the dark throughout the book, trying in vain to see all the cool crap I desperately wanted to see. The fact that I wanted so badly to see her vision, however, means that I’ll probably pick up the second volume, Suited, hoping to see a bit more the next time around.

#

Bradley P. Beaulieu’s The Winds of Khalakovo (Night Shade; published 2011)

Oh, Brad, you’re so goddamn smart. That’s the first thing I thought when I started reading Winds. And I didn’t mean it as a dig — I meant it in that jealous way where you shake your head at someone else’s skill. Beaulieu is a craftsman. I can imagine him writing late at night, fitting all the puzzle pieces together, eschewing trends, writing for the pure act of it.

Don’t mistake me, though: His first book is not an immediate grabber, I think. I think, rather, it’s something that has to be osmosissed into your brain. You have to let go of all the worry that you haven’t got all the tricky names right and just read, hoping that it’ll all get organized as you read. And it does. The story, which is invitingly complex but never unclear, is filled with magic and violence, but never outrageously so.

It’s… tasteful, in a way that modern fantasy books rarely are. Beaulieu treats his characters in a way that is compassionate but never coddling: we are aware the entire time that disaster is but one step away.

Of course, how something can be as mannered as Winds yet as uncomfortably cognizant of the brutal reality is anyone’s guess.

Chalk it up to being disgustingly talented, I guess. Damn that Beaulieu.

#

Martha Wells’ Books of the Raksura (Night Shade; published 2011)

This is fantasy in perhaps its most conspicuously fantastical form: There’s not even a human on the cover. It’s the kind of fantasy I think it’s hard for many people to take seriously because it’s so obviously of a fantastical nature.

It’s the kind of fantasy Wells takes very seriously, indeed. This is not your intellectually or emotionally stunted quest fantasy, full of unintentional phallic imagery and stupid-ass names full of improbable hyphens and apostrophes. It’s lush, and mature, and intentionally ambiguous. The exploration of gender roles is particularly exciting.

(If you’re the kind of person who can’t handle matriarchal societal structures, then you shouldn’t read this book. Or maybe you should…)

When I received a blurb for my own novel, No Return, from Martha, I nearly pooped myself in excitement. Much of the reason for that reaction comes from reading The Cloud Roads, The Serpent Sea, and The Siren Depths. I respect the kind of sober artistry that she brings to the table.
Read More...
ENORMITY and TERMINAL ISLAND

The Year in Review

2012 was a big year for me—or should I say an enormous year.

Thanks to Night Shade, I had two books (plus audiobooks!) come out: the SF extravaganza ENORMITY, under the pseudonym W.G. Marshall, and the psycho-cult thriller TERMINAL ISLAND, under my real name, Walter Greatshell.

I had been working on both these novels for about ten years, so it was wonderful to finally see them published as beautiful Night Shade editions. I am especially grateful to my editor on both books, Ross Lockhart, whose wholehearted support of my crazy ambitions was truly humbling. Here’s the thing:

When I’m writing I don’t censor myself, because I believe it’s an author’s job to hold nothing back—to find the most fundamental truths and expose them. Truth can be awkward, uncomfortable, even painful. But it is also revealing of the human condition…and often it is very funny. In the case of ENORMITY, the intimate problems of a mile-high giant would be hard to ignore, and I wasn’t going to pretend otherwise.

Not all editors or publishers see things that way, and when Night Shade bought ENORMITY I was expecting to have to cut stuff. Nope—it’s all in there. Which is good, because I didn’t write it to traumatize the young and impressionable, nor to titillate giant fetishists; I wrote it to explore interesting, basic issues that any reader might be curious about. To not address these things would have been dishonest—worse, it would have been boring.

In my book TERMINAL ISLAND, the nastiness is all hidden behind beautiful scenery: the splendor of Santa Catalina Island and the charming village of Avalon.

Having briefly lived on Catalina as a kid, I have some fond and some not-so-fond memories of the place, but everything was heightened to the point of hallucination by the spectacular surroundings. So much so that until I went back as an adult, I wasn’t sure how much of it I had dreamed or imagined.

Not much, as it turned out.

So when I was hunting for ideas for my next book after ENORMITY (then called THE LEAF-BLOWER), the idea of doing an Ira Levin-style horror novel set on Catalina Island seemed a natural.

What better place for an evil conspiracy to take root, a murderous cult that conceals its bloody business behind a quaint, small-town facade? Then again, what better place for a man with memory issues and a troubled past to imagine such an evil conspiracy…perhaps where none exists?

TERMINAL ISLAND was my chance to analyze my past and indulge my most paranoid fantasies of the present, including anxieties of marriage, family, and middle age, while tying it all together with a gruesome scenario borrowed from ancient myth. The fabulous as a mask for the grotesque—the ultimate price of ultimate pleasure—that is what TERMINAL ISLAND is about.

So goodbye, books of 2012…and hello, books of 2013!

Thanks for reading!

–Walter Greatshell
Read More...
5 Things I Learned About How to Be a Better Writer in 2011

The Year in Review

It’s the end of 2011, and it’s been a bloody busy year for me.

I had two books come out this year, signed a contract for a third, switched day jobs, experienced some medical madness, fought hard to get back into some semblance of fitness, and am just about done with a draft of aforementioned third book.

Along the way, I learned some things about the skills I needed to be a better writer – both on the business side of things and the personal side of things.

1)      I need to learn to write faster. Maybe some of this is knowing the demands of the marketplace. Maybe some of it is just being very aware of my health, and how it may be that I have a few years less to knock out books than maybe some other people do. Whatever the reason, I need to stop being happy to squeeze out 200 or 500 words a day and start actually… writing books like a professional. That means no longer pecking at the keys like this is a fun hobby, but sitting down, planning out my scenes, and knocking them out like a professional, the same way I do at my day job. Fiction writing may be more fun, but that’s no excuse to treat it like an idle pastime. I treat my night-job writing a lot more seriously now, and the simple act of planning a scene before I open my manuscript has worked wonders.

2)      I need to stop making excuses. I had all sorts of excuses this year for being tired and cranky and not writing enough. I had a couple surgeries. I switched day jobs. I had two books come out back-to-back (trust me, six months apart feels like thirty days in writer time). I read too many reviews. But at the end of the day, the world doesn’t care about your excuses. It cares about results. You only have so much life, and the clock is ticking. As with fitness, writing is something you need to build into your schedule according to what your deadlines/goals are. You should build everything around the work, instead of trying to shoehorn it in.

3)      Some fights are worth fighting. Every time I got a draft cover from my publisher, my whole body tensed up and my stomach sank. I hate conflict, believe it or not. I hate being “a problem.” But I also know that if something is important to me, I need to say so, even if it’s uncomfortable or difficult. I worked with my publisher and the cover artist until we got the covers right, even though some of the discussions left me sleepless and anxious. As writers, we’re responsible for the images we put onto the page, and if your publisher values your opinion at all, it’s also your responsibility to do what you can to ensure your cover is right. Luckily, I had a great publisher and a fantastic cover artist, and in the end, it all turned out great.

4)      Negotiation will get you everywhere. I had a girlfriend once who taught business negotiations to MBA students. Living with her for four years, I was privy to a lot of discussions about how to negotiate for things that you wanted. I learned about BATNA, but most importantly, I learned that women were far less likely to negotiate than men were – whether it be the price of a car or a job offer or a book contract. There are all sorts of reasons for this, and I know that for me, much of that had to do with aforementioned aversion to conflict. You’re supposed to be happy and thankful to get anything for your work. But when you look at the numbers, and how a mere 2% negotiation in your pay rate can add up over time, you have to realize that nobody is just going to give that to you. You have to ask for it. And, if necessary, fight for it. Even if you can only ask for 2% or even 10% – do it. A job offer, or a book offer, is just that – an offer. Figure out what you want/need, talk it over with your spouse or agent as the case may be, and just bloody ask for it. Generally, this gets easier the more you do it.

5)      Write what you love – because nobody else is going to. This is actually a really important thing to hang onto in the “everybody needs to write YA vampire fiction to be successful” age. I read a lot of “reviews” from people who either couldn’t make sense of my books at all or who just despised anything dark and morally ambiguous with a lot of violence and swear words. These were not my target readers. But when I started writing my blog back in 2004, originally titled Brutal Women, I found a whole lot of other people like me. Women who wanted to be strong – who *were* strong – physically and emotionally. Who liked morally ambiguous fiction. Who were tired of Urban Fantasy that was 90% romance and 10% action, with the usual pat plot formulas. I knew these folks were out there. I just needed to find them. If you think these books are a love letter just for you – I can tell you that yes, they are. I wanted the same kind of books, and because I didn’t find them on the shelves, I went and wrote them myself. There are other people like you out there. They will love what you write. Have some confidence in your story, and your own unique voice. At the end of the day, anybody can write any knockoff of anything. There’s no shame in it – money is money, afterall – but you’re far more likely to get attention writing something only you can write than writing something anybody could write.
Read More...
Hellhound On My Trail

The Year in Review

This week’s topic is ”What was the year like for you as a writer.” Such a topic is dangerous for me. It encourages me to navel-gaze, something I’m far too good at. So, honoring the mood of the season, I’ll try to keep it moderately brief, and hopefully maudlin as hell.

2011 was the third year I’ve lived without a day job (though the first year, 2009, was a partial one). I like it. I’ve also loved my day jobs, but there’s something exceedingly “special” — in both its ironic and non-ironic senses — about being able to focus totally on reading and writing.

And when I say reading and writing, that’s what I mean. Reading is the side of the writing life that I never thought I’d like so much, and for me, it has to be a daily occurrence, or I lose a sense of what I’m here for.

In 2011, Night Shade Books published my first novel under my own name, The Panama Laugh. One of the prompts for this week’s topic is “How have things changed for you pre- and post-publication,” and the answer is that it hasn’t changed that much. It’s delightful to get paid for a piece of work you love, and it’s indescribably wonderful to have people enjoy it. But even so, what I look forward to most is writing the next page.

Too many other things have changed in the world for me to generalize what 2011 was like for me personally. Too many personal things were weird and wonky, to the point of disaster, this past year, for me to give a damn about any of this writing crap. I like doing it. I’ve always liked doing it. That said, it is a pain in the ass, and most days I’d rather swallow hot coals than put words on the page.

I do it because I don’t know any better. I do it because I’m incapable of taking logical steps to better my life. I do it because I’m stubborn as hell. I do it because I love the human race, and if I tried to express it any other way, I’d explode. I do it because I hate the human race, and if I tried to express it any other way, they’d (rightly) throw me in jail.

I do it because I probably occupy some kind of space on the autism spectrum, and writing half-completed action novels is one of my tics. I do it because, look, here’s another year drizzled by, I’m almost dead, and I don’t have any sense of what that means. I’ve got a hellhound on my trail; I always have, and those of you who don’t, or think you don’t…well, no offense, but I just don’t understand you. That’s okay, though…you probably don’t understand me, either, so it’s cool.

People who live unhaunted are different than me in some essential way. I’m not sure if I envy them or resent them, but I know I’d rather be them than me. Nobody asked, though, so here I am.

Writing and reading are the only activities that help me be OK with that.

There you go: maudlin navelgazing for Christmas. Hope your 2011 was as splendid as mine.
Read More...
Losing My Religion

The Year in Review

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to heaven, we were all going direct the other way – in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.

Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities
English novelist (1812 – 1870)

I found that being a debut author was much like losing my virginity, my first real work day at my first real job, or my wedding day. It was much like Christmas – lots of hype, kinda schticky, and at the end I can’t decide if I really enjoyed the experience or I am just so glad it is OVER.

It’s cool. I’m American. We dig schtick here. We do ‘over-rated.’ We are so goddamn bored, we’ll try to enjoy pretty much anything. Otherwise, every day is just another day. I’ve had 12, 742 days so far and, I’ll be honest, even the standout days are starting to run together a bit, you know?

Sure, I remember my wedding. What was I thinking with that green dress and, Jesus, how was I so fat and wasn’t my guy just the handsomest ever? I remember the days my kids were born. Bit of a gore-fest there and how often am I screaming naked bleeding in a room full of people? Can’t forget those days if I tried. Really, if there’s one thing experience has taught me is that, on momentous occasions, I tend to remember what I was wearing. Neurologically, that’s interested, sure. But….

It’s really just fine. Sure, I was a tad bit disappointed to discover that fame and fortune are, in fact, not a normal part of the published author gig. I was slightly disheartened to find that I would never be able to quit my day job and write full time. That’s life, though, isn’t it? That’s the deal. I will say that I feel this part of my life is that weird draggy ending bit to the second book of a trilogy. Sometime soon though, I plan to shock the peanut gallery with a totally killer sequel. Not just the climactic ending to a trilogy but in fact the open-ended third book in a long running series. It’s totally going to be epic.

OK, bored with attempting the angsty introspective nerd girl perspective there. If this were a piece of fiction, I’d be writing about robots attacking right now. Space ninjas. Killer mutant sheep. Anything more interesting than this suburban American pathos. If I learned anything from this year it is that I think I’m done with writing YA. I spent a year trying to remember how I felt and thought as a teen and… Screw that. It was a train wreck back there and if I could fry out every single synapse that remembered those days, I’d do it. The future. That’s where I live. I’m writing about sexy old people from here on out.
Read More...
Looking forward

The Year in Review

I know this post is supposed to be about the year in review, but I think it’s very much about looking forward as well.

One thing this year has taught me is that “I can do it again,” meaning I know how to write a novel more than once. The Winds of Khalakovo came out this year, but I turned in Book 2, The Straits of Galahesh, a few months back, and I’m well on my way to completing the first draft of Book 3. So I’ve gained a sense of confidence that I can do this at a high level. And this is important. Ever since I’ve started writing novels and short stories, it’s always felt like I won’t be able to do it again. Like “this time” was a fluke, and the “next time” the story’s going to fall flat on its face. Never is this feeling more apparent to me than in the first third of writing a new book. I’d written three books before Winds was picked up by Night Shade, so I’m essentially writing my sixth book now. And damned if the same feelings don’t crop up again and again, even on Book 3. But now that I’ve gotten some good feedback from my editor and my beta readers on Straits, I’m more confident that it, and my writing, are doing fine.

So in some ways, this is a transitional period for me. I have the first year of publication under my belt. I’ve learned a lot in the past year, not just in how to write, but how to promote, how to balance my time, and deal with the pressures of publication. In other words: I’ve learned how to be a professional writer. A young pro writer, mind you, but a pro nonetheless.

The second thing I’ve learned is that I really, really like this business. It pays chump change a lot of the time, and there are a lot of things that are a pain to deal with, but the act of creating something from scratch and sharing it—which assumes, of course, that people are reading your stuff—is really gratifying. And it’s enjoyable to be around so many other creative people. It’s why I’ve gone to conventions and such in the past, but more doors have been opened for me this year, and I’ve come to enjoy those new interactions—with my publisher, reviewers, bloggers, and other authors. (more…)
Read More...
Into a Swan

The Year in Review

The fabulous Scott Lynch once told me that debut authors exist in a state of grace. This, because I lived in constant terror for eight months — fear that I was going to screw everything up. Largely, he was saying that other published authors tend to be patient because they remember the overwhelming excitement and disbelief and insecurity of dreams becoming reality. And thank the gods for other authors’ memories, patience and kindness. That’s what made this blog so great. Being able to compare notes and understand what was normal was invaluable. None of us would pull through the debut stage without the writing community because the debut stage is, to be brutally honest, not all sunshine and puppies. People crash into walls for a reason. Oh, don’t get me wrong. There are definitely puppies and sunshine, but sometimes the puppies you get haven’t exactly gotten all their shots and go a bit… well… rabid. We all make mistakes. Hopefully, we all learn from them too. You’re damned lucky if you’re surrounded by loving people who understand this and love you anyway. But not everyone will love you anyway. That’s life.

Things to remember: you’re only a debut author once.

No matter the pain and frustration, it’s worth every damned second. I’d discuss all the crazy happy, but it’d feel too much like bragging. Also? No one has the same experiences, and sometimes people can’t help making comparisons. It doesn’t matter that this isn’t a competition. Some will make out otherwise, but I’d prefer not to be one of them. No one writes exactly the same as anyone else. No one’s career goals or career paths are exactly the same. (Thank goodness.) Another thing to remember is that life isn’t fair, but it’s best not to dwell on that fact. Such things only make you bitter. You have to trust that it’ll all work out in the end. (It’s also important to do your part in seeing that it does, but that’s another story.) Courtney rightly compares the first year to a roller coaster. Although speaking for myself, it felt more like when I first got my driving license. (Ah, you knew cars would come into it somewhere, didn’t you?) You’re given funds for an automobile that you’ve built yourself and then you’re left to navigate on your own. There was a great deal over which I had no control. (Other peoples’ driving habits, road conditions, and the possibility for accidents, if you want to continue with the analogy.) There always is in life. There were certainly people who helped along the way, people without which I wouldn’t have gotten as far as selling the books to Night Shade — a lot of them. Outside of my husband, the biggest were Charles de Lint, Holly Black and my agent Joe Monti. I can’t thank them enough. It’s impossible. There are also the readers, booksellers and reviewers. They’re the biggest factor of all, and most of them I’ll never meet. Thank goodness for them, nonetheless.

I wish I could say that there’s only one direction to go from here, but that’s not true. The stakes only get higher and the pressure to perform more… ah… pressure-y. (As Martha Wells points out.) Being a writer is about being strong enough to take the punches. It’s also about remaining open, sensitive, and honest because without that your writing suffers. Writing is an art form, after all, and conveying emotion is key. Otherwise, you might as well be writing a technical manual.

How was 2011 for me? Wonderful, magical, mundane and frustrating all at once. There are things I did and said that I wish I hadn’t. There are things I didn’t do and didn’t say that I wish I had. Everything went too fast and too slow all at once. My life utterly changed, and yet, it didn’t change in the ways I thought it would.

But if I were to sum up 2011, I’d say it was perfect.
Read More...
Ride That Rollercoaster

The Year in Review

Oh you guys, what a year. Way back in January when the Night Bazaar first started up, the August publication date of The Whitefire Crossing felt so far away. Heck, I hadn’t even officially signed the contract (my agent & Night Shade were still hammering out details), I hadn’t yet gotten an edit letter…I kept thinking I’d wake up and find out the whole book deal thing was all a dream, or maybe one of those Candid Camera-style jokes.

And now here we are, end of December. The book’s been on shelves for months, and I have honest-to-gosh reviews and emails from readers and pictures and everything to prove to myself that yes, I am a published author.

Yet sometimes it still feels unreal. I’ve had a lot of people ask how publication has made a difference to my writing, and my life. I think they’re hoping that I’ll say that now every day is rainbows and sunshine, that I attack the blank page full of unshakeable confidence in my own prose. (more…)
Read More...