We went to the Rice/Army game at West Point today, and got there early enough to see the cadets march at the parade grounds. When the band struck up the Washington Post and the marchers entered through several gates I have to say my eyes teared up and I nearly lost it.
Mourning for those lost in Iraq of course, and the soon to be lost. For those relatives in the military cemeteries in Marietta. Still thinking about Viet Nam, because the class of 1961 was honored, and of course that was their war. Everybody gets a war.
I also mourned for my lost youth. I remember finding a military song book among my uncles World War II relics. I couldn't wait to get home to play the songs on the piano. All the verses were there, too. I used to come home after school and play and sing really loud. "And those caissons, keep rolling along."
My mom was never home after school. Out playing bridge or at a women's club meeting. I liked that just fine. I could play the piano as loud as I liked and sing in my "can't carry a tune in a bucket" monotone. I like that person I used to be. She was pretty cool.
When I came home after school, delightfully alone, I changed clothes, did exercises to increase the size of my calves (bird legs!), fixed what I wanted to eat, practiced some dance steps, and practiced the piano. Never watched TV. Sometimes I would go into the back yard and climb a big maple tree and sit there for hours. Pet the cat. Pet the neighbor's cat. Do the ironing, except my Dad's shirts which my mom did. I was a pretty good kid, and although I could never see it then, I do now, and I mourn for that kid, too.
The cadet corps is gung ho and a whole bunch of them practiced push ups when Army scored. The campus is beautiful, with gray stone buildings and lots of trees. We ate a fine lunch in a building along the river and the dining room looked out over the Hudson and to the hills across the the river and into the trees. Hmmmm. I did not see one fat cadet. We climbed the hill to the stadium, and got in the day's workout.
Rice won, their first win. Must have been all the yelling and screaming we did to make up a little bit for the racket the cadets made. We didn't even come close. In the old days when Rice played in the Southwest conference, girls I knew dated cadets at Texas A & M. Like the army cadets, the aggies stood for the whole game. And their dates did, too, some of them in high heels. That looked to be the case today, too, minus maybe the heels.
Gives more meaning to the phrase "suck it up."
Grapeshot
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Friday, September 29, 2006
The Wine Has Resurrected Itself
Strange but true. The old bottle of wine we opened last weekend that proved such a vinegary disappointment has become quite potable. We decided to try it again last night. Guess it had to breathe for 6 days. I don't proclaim it a great wine, but certainly a very good wine, too good to beome coq au vin or boeuf bourgignon. So a leopard can change its spots.
Today I heard from the publisher that I had kept as an ace up my sleeve, and for whom I concocted a special letter and a special synopsis. All to no avail! Form letter came back. I am crushed, but there is yet another publisher that I will approach. Don't think it's their kind of thing, but what the hell? Doesn't seem to be anybody's kind of thing. It's the Last of the Cold War Capers: cool characters, bad guys and gals, romantic suspense, sailing across the Baltic in the fog, fun, games, a crazy party, nude beaches, midsummer madness. What more could a publisher want? Damned if I know. So guess what? Time once again to Suck It Up. I'll drown my sorrows in the risen from the dead wine.
We are going to West Point to the Rice-Army game tomorrow. Anything to get my mind off this damn novel that wants to badly to find a publisher.
In deep despair,
Grapeshot
Today I heard from the publisher that I had kept as an ace up my sleeve, and for whom I concocted a special letter and a special synopsis. All to no avail! Form letter came back. I am crushed, but there is yet another publisher that I will approach. Don't think it's their kind of thing, but what the hell? Doesn't seem to be anybody's kind of thing. It's the Last of the Cold War Capers: cool characters, bad guys and gals, romantic suspense, sailing across the Baltic in the fog, fun, games, a crazy party, nude beaches, midsummer madness. What more could a publisher want? Damned if I know. So guess what? Time once again to Suck It Up. I'll drown my sorrows in the risen from the dead wine.
We are going to West Point to the Rice-Army game tomorrow. Anything to get my mind off this damn novel that wants to badly to find a publisher.
In deep despair,
Grapeshot
HP: Don't you Just Love It?
The imbroglio at HP gets sadder and funnier. Nobody was told anything. If they were, they didn't understand. Nobody read anything. Sorry, should have, too busy, too whatever. Question: I am a high honcho and obviously can't read every piece of paper that crosses my desk. On an critical question, do I have underlings, aids, goto guys? If an issue is important, one would think I might have asked a subordinate to read a document. Or do I want to appear so dazzling and all-knowing that I never delegate jackshit? Dunno.
I keep hearing the excuse that the work force is so lean and mean that everyone is "overwhelmed" with work. Excuse me? This obsession with the bottom line didn't preclude hireing a security firm to do a sh__load of "pretexting." I'll bet their invoice would have paid a few people to read documents. How could anyone in information systems not know that "Pretexting" was illegal? Certainly skirting the boundaries of illegality. I call AT&T pretending to be someone else to get phone records? That is Legal? Ha ha!
The sad thing is, this is typical for corporate America. A few years (quite a few) ago, I worked for a company that was putting in a new distribution system: shipping, receiving, fulfillment, you name it. We had a warehouse that worked, granted not state of the art but got the job done. The powers that be found a new system, new as in untried, and attempted to get it up and running. They pissed off the property owner of the old warehouse big time, so they couldn't expect any favors there. The new system wasn't ready. Wasn't tested. Didn't work. Can you believe they installed it and went live with it anyhow?
The IS people, both low and high were screaming, begging, pleading, "don't do it! It's not ready! Please don't do it! Wait and test!"
Well, guess what? The high honchos didn't listen. They couldn't receive. They couldn't ship. They pissed off all their customers. They lost 40 million dollars for starters, and god knows how much they paid consultants and staff to fly south to the new DC and put things to rights.
Now get this: when it hit the fan, as it always does, said honchos publicly said, "Nobody told me." And then they left the company AND GOT EVEN BETTER JOBS!
On that day, my respect for Corporate America hit bottom and stayed there. Nothing I've seen since has raised it one iota. So HP is same-old same-old. Unfortunately. Scratch a big corporation and you find greed, avarice and incompetence. I doubt that HP was like that in the days when Mr. H. and Mr. P. started it. There was probably idealism, caring for employees, honesty and all those good things. That was then.
I know there are exceptions. The problem is, they are Exceptions. What are things coming to? I don't know.
I've seen it all and liked none of it.
Grapeshot
I keep hearing the excuse that the work force is so lean and mean that everyone is "overwhelmed" with work. Excuse me? This obsession with the bottom line didn't preclude hireing a security firm to do a sh__load of "pretexting." I'll bet their invoice would have paid a few people to read documents. How could anyone in information systems not know that "Pretexting" was illegal? Certainly skirting the boundaries of illegality. I call AT&T pretending to be someone else to get phone records? That is Legal? Ha ha!
The sad thing is, this is typical for corporate America. A few years (quite a few) ago, I worked for a company that was putting in a new distribution system: shipping, receiving, fulfillment, you name it. We had a warehouse that worked, granted not state of the art but got the job done. The powers that be found a new system, new as in untried, and attempted to get it up and running. They pissed off the property owner of the old warehouse big time, so they couldn't expect any favors there. The new system wasn't ready. Wasn't tested. Didn't work. Can you believe they installed it and went live with it anyhow?
The IS people, both low and high were screaming, begging, pleading, "don't do it! It's not ready! Please don't do it! Wait and test!"
Well, guess what? The high honchos didn't listen. They couldn't receive. They couldn't ship. They pissed off all their customers. They lost 40 million dollars for starters, and god knows how much they paid consultants and staff to fly south to the new DC and put things to rights.
Now get this: when it hit the fan, as it always does, said honchos publicly said, "Nobody told me." And then they left the company AND GOT EVEN BETTER JOBS!
On that day, my respect for Corporate America hit bottom and stayed there. Nothing I've seen since has raised it one iota. So HP is same-old same-old. Unfortunately. Scratch a big corporation and you find greed, avarice and incompetence. I doubt that HP was like that in the days when Mr. H. and Mr. P. started it. There was probably idealism, caring for employees, honesty and all those good things. That was then.
I know there are exceptions. The problem is, they are Exceptions. What are things coming to? I don't know.
I've seen it all and liked none of it.
Grapeshot
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Computers: Can't Live With and Without Them
Below is a post that eminently readable. The gentleman posted it to another list and I am keeping his name confidential, but his thoughts are certainly worth sharing.
Here it is:
I am a System Administrator by trade, and I just have to chuckle a little bit at this current discussion about mailing list etiquette. First of all, I totally agree with X that since this is Y's e-mail list, she gets to decide how to run it, regardless of any misconfigurations or technical foibles that may or may not exist.
I also think that innovative people like M, who are allowed to thrive in a *truly* free market will help us all with their brilliant technical innovations, as well as when they remind us gently to RTFM.
That being said, the reason I chuckle is because I spend pretty much my entire day, every day, trying to match the unreasonable expectations of human beings with the unbending behavior of computing devices. Someday far in the future, when computers are as complex as the human mind, my job will go away and computers will know how to adjust to the expectations of unreasonable human beings. But as I said, that day is far far away in a distant galaxy...I will be dead before it happens.I use two analogies for my user community. In the first, I call computers shovels. That's all they are, a dumb tool.
Do you feel a religious passion for the hand trowel you use to aerate the earth around your nasturtiums? Probably not. But try to remove the religious passion from an ardent Mac lover, a devoted Windows MCSE, or a blackhat linux anarchist, and you'll know what it must feel like to live in Jerusalem. I still call it the dumb shovel, regardless of OS: it operates on ones and zeros, only knows "yes" or "no." "Maybe" is to what we aspire in the computer world.
Not there yet.Human beings, on the other hand, spend their entire lives adjudicating the world of "maybe." This is the primary reason humans and computers have such a hard time getting along with each other.The second analogy I use is the auto industry. When using a computer, imagine this is 1910 and the computer is a car. The Big Three don't exist yet, most of the hardware comes out of people's loving garages, and if the thing actually works, it's a flippin' miracle. Actually, that was more like 1995. I have adjusted my analogy so that today it is more like 1925--the Big Three are beginning to emerge, but the hardware still smokes and belches, standards are still wavering, and now these new-fangled devices are actually life-threatening.
Can you say "blue-screen" during your open-heart surgery? Can you say "the battery caught fire on my Dell laptop and it caused the oxygen masks to drop in the 737 I was flying in?"So, we will muddle through. The most important thing is that we do our best to be kind to each other while we curse the shovel.And hopefully we will not have to wait until 2050 for the industry equivalent of the National Highway Traffic Safety Commission to come into being. The first thing to attack is the dreaded EULA: "OK, so I don't own the software, I'm kinda renting it, but not really since I am only licensed to use it "as is," but if there is something wrong with it, that's entirely my problem and I am SOL, and if it chops off my arm I am also SOL."
You have more clout buying a toaster at WalMart than you do buying a $20K software program from XtraSpecialSoftware.Com. That needs to change ASAP. Under Sharia, your mileage may vary.Finally, I had to laugh a few weeks back when Michael Chertoff with the DHS came on the TV and implored all of us System Administrators in the U.S. to immediately install Microsoft's latest critical updates in order to protect the nation's water and energy supply. Sorry M, I'm just the guy with the shovel hanging around behind the elephant. If that phucker stampedes, I don't have enough fingers to plug the dike.
Be very afraid...Nah, screw that. Be ebullient, and dance the madagascar.
End of quote I changed the names to protect the innocent.
Grapeshot
Here it is:
I am a System Administrator by trade, and I just have to chuckle a little bit at this current discussion about mailing list etiquette. First of all, I totally agree with X that since this is Y's e-mail list, she gets to decide how to run it, regardless of any misconfigurations or technical foibles that may or may not exist.
I also think that innovative people like M, who are allowed to thrive in a *truly* free market will help us all with their brilliant technical innovations, as well as when they remind us gently to RTFM.
That being said, the reason I chuckle is because I spend pretty much my entire day, every day, trying to match the unreasonable expectations of human beings with the unbending behavior of computing devices. Someday far in the future, when computers are as complex as the human mind, my job will go away and computers will know how to adjust to the expectations of unreasonable human beings. But as I said, that day is far far away in a distant galaxy...I will be dead before it happens.I use two analogies for my user community. In the first, I call computers shovels. That's all they are, a dumb tool.
Do you feel a religious passion for the hand trowel you use to aerate the earth around your nasturtiums? Probably not. But try to remove the religious passion from an ardent Mac lover, a devoted Windows MCSE, or a blackhat linux anarchist, and you'll know what it must feel like to live in Jerusalem. I still call it the dumb shovel, regardless of OS: it operates on ones and zeros, only knows "yes" or "no." "Maybe" is to what we aspire in the computer world.
Not there yet.Human beings, on the other hand, spend their entire lives adjudicating the world of "maybe." This is the primary reason humans and computers have such a hard time getting along with each other.The second analogy I use is the auto industry. When using a computer, imagine this is 1910 and the computer is a car. The Big Three don't exist yet, most of the hardware comes out of people's loving garages, and if the thing actually works, it's a flippin' miracle. Actually, that was more like 1995. I have adjusted my analogy so that today it is more like 1925--the Big Three are beginning to emerge, but the hardware still smokes and belches, standards are still wavering, and now these new-fangled devices are actually life-threatening.
Can you say "blue-screen" during your open-heart surgery? Can you say "the battery caught fire on my Dell laptop and it caused the oxygen masks to drop in the 737 I was flying in?"So, we will muddle through. The most important thing is that we do our best to be kind to each other while we curse the shovel.And hopefully we will not have to wait until 2050 for the industry equivalent of the National Highway Traffic Safety Commission to come into being. The first thing to attack is the dreaded EULA: "OK, so I don't own the software, I'm kinda renting it, but not really since I am only licensed to use it "as is," but if there is something wrong with it, that's entirely my problem and I am SOL, and if it chops off my arm I am also SOL."
You have more clout buying a toaster at WalMart than you do buying a $20K software program from XtraSpecialSoftware.Com. That needs to change ASAP. Under Sharia, your mileage may vary.Finally, I had to laugh a few weeks back when Michael Chertoff with the DHS came on the TV and implored all of us System Administrators in the U.S. to immediately install Microsoft's latest critical updates in order to protect the nation's water and energy supply. Sorry M, I'm just the guy with the shovel hanging around behind the elephant. If that phucker stampedes, I don't have enough fingers to plug the dike.
Be very afraid...Nah, screw that. Be ebullient, and dance the madagascar.
End of quote I changed the names to protect the innocent.
Grapeshot
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
The Shadow Warriors
Sometimes people surprise me. Quite often, in fact. Yesterday, driving to The Writing Group, my carpool writer told me she got The Shadow Warriors through the interlibrary loan and read it and liked it. A statement like that gladdens the heart: a) that she went to the trouble and b) that she liked it enough to tell me. Her remarks came after we both agreed that lots of mysteries nowadays are poorly written and deadly dull and granted the bean counters are now in charge of publishing, and why can't they understand that same old, same old is ho hum, ho hum?
No responses at all from agents or publishers. Maybe that is a good thing and they are cogitating, or it is a bad thing and they are steaming the stamps off of my SASE to glue on the electric bill.
The Burning Man section of the WIP, Festival Madness rocks! My concern now is that the subsequent section has to be really really good to equal or surpass the Man.
Soon we are going to drive to the Adirondacks to find the place where the book's showdown occurs. I still have a big plotting question in my head, which I need to solve, soon.
Back to Festival Madness!
Grapeshot
No responses at all from agents or publishers. Maybe that is a good thing and they are cogitating, or it is a bad thing and they are steaming the stamps off of my SASE to glue on the electric bill.
The Burning Man section of the WIP, Festival Madness rocks! My concern now is that the subsequent section has to be really really good to equal or surpass the Man.
Soon we are going to drive to the Adirondacks to find the place where the book's showdown occurs. I still have a big plotting question in my head, which I need to solve, soon.
Back to Festival Madness!
Grapeshot
Monday, September 25, 2006
Word Count Revisited
Digging around on the web, I found more information about word count for various genres.
Sci-Fi and Fantasy are never less than 80,000, but are usually more.
An "adult" novel is frequently 120,000 words according to Writer's Digest.
The novel may vary from 45,000 to 150,000. The 45,000 is romance, those thin little wisps of nothing that you see in the supermarket, although some look much more bloated. We discussed genre mysteries already at 75,000 - 85,000 words.
Now I am feeling somewhat better about my tendency to write 120,000 and then chop. At least I am writing adult novels. Nothing the matter with genre novels, but that ain't what I seem to be producing. Ah well.
Last night we had the wine snafu, but we also had an excellent dinner of Morroccan chicken with curried couscous. Ground my spices to make a "harissa." It's a good feeling both physically and mentally to grind spices by hand, add oil and garlic and pulverize some more. You feel a kinship with how the third world cooks. And it really tasted good. I have a mortar and pestle from a chemistry supply place, nothing fancy, but serviceable and it goes into the dishwasher. Yay for anything that goes into the dishwater. Please don't put your cutting knives in; it makes them dull. The recipe was from Epicurious, ( I think) an old Gourmet recipe and definitely worth the work. We grilled the chicken in a light drizzle. Just can't get enough of grilling season.
Made blueberry pancakes from sour milk and diet bisquick this a.m. Good taste, good loft and generally yummy. Topped with apricot syrup from the 'cot king in the flavor zone. I do admire and appreciate the apricot king in California. Isn't the web great? A lazy shopper's dream.
http://www.apricotking.com/
Onward,
Grapeshot
Sci-Fi and Fantasy are never less than 80,000, but are usually more.
An "adult" novel is frequently 120,000 words according to Writer's Digest.
The novel may vary from 45,000 to 150,000. The 45,000 is romance, those thin little wisps of nothing that you see in the supermarket, although some look much more bloated. We discussed genre mysteries already at 75,000 - 85,000 words.
Now I am feeling somewhat better about my tendency to write 120,000 and then chop. At least I am writing adult novels. Nothing the matter with genre novels, but that ain't what I seem to be producing. Ah well.
Last night we had the wine snafu, but we also had an excellent dinner of Morroccan chicken with curried couscous. Ground my spices to make a "harissa." It's a good feeling both physically and mentally to grind spices by hand, add oil and garlic and pulverize some more. You feel a kinship with how the third world cooks. And it really tasted good. I have a mortar and pestle from a chemistry supply place, nothing fancy, but serviceable and it goes into the dishwasher. Yay for anything that goes into the dishwater. Please don't put your cutting knives in; it makes them dull. The recipe was from Epicurious, ( I think) an old Gourmet recipe and definitely worth the work. We grilled the chicken in a light drizzle. Just can't get enough of grilling season.
Made blueberry pancakes from sour milk and diet bisquick this a.m. Good taste, good loft and generally yummy. Topped with apricot syrup from the 'cot king in the flavor zone. I do admire and appreciate the apricot king in California. Isn't the web great? A lazy shopper's dream.
http://www.apricotking.com/
Onward,
Grapeshot
Sunday, September 24, 2006
The Wine Has Turned to Vinegar
No, really. Ten years ago on an IMPORTANT anniversary, we bought a case of good 1996 Cabernet Sauvignon at a beautiful winery in Sonoma. Drank all but one bottle, which we put away for a special occasion. Decided this weekend was that occasion.
S.O. opened the wine and the first indication that it would not be perhaps the golden vintage was that the cork fell apart. He sniffed. Didn't smell too wonderful. A sip. Yuck. Well, maybe it just needs to breathe. Breathing made it taste like a five dollar a bottle wine instead of a four dollar a bottle wine. So we said bad words and opened a bottle of something else.
Major bummer. Moral of this story. Drink the wine. Savor it. Slurp it down.
Grapeshot
S.O. opened the wine and the first indication that it would not be perhaps the golden vintage was that the cork fell apart. He sniffed. Didn't smell too wonderful. A sip. Yuck. Well, maybe it just needs to breathe. Breathing made it taste like a five dollar a bottle wine instead of a four dollar a bottle wine. So we said bad words and opened a bottle of something else.
Major bummer. Moral of this story. Drink the wine. Savor it. Slurp it down.
Grapeshot
Word Count
My first novel come out at 85,000 words, and received the best reception from agents but at some point I stopped pursuit of publication (40 rejections) because I thought the plot had holes you could shoot a cannon thru. Second novel, The Shadow Warriors, topped at 140,000 words which I trimmed to something like 120,000. It's 400 + pages, big type, and does not seem to be a lengthy read. Promiscuous Mode also hit 120,000 and it trimmed it down to 114,000, and it, too, seems all right with all the subplots and twists. World of Mirrors also hit 120,000 words. What is it about 120,000 and me? I trimmed it down to 99,000 by changing the character and getting rid of the back story. It's now a good length for what it is. Festival Madness just hit 75,000 and granted, I am on the way to identifying the murderer and creating the exciting climax but I will be surprised it it, too, doesn't hit 100,000.
There are two kinds of mysteries: genre mysteries and mainstream mysteries. Apparently the difference is that a genre mystery is 75,000 - 85,000 words and is strictly a mystery. No or few subplots, not much description, no deep character depictions. Solve the crime and get on with it. These mysteries can be a good read and have devoted fans. I recall that I could start an Agatha Christie mystery at 9:00 and close the book at 11:00. A quick good read.
Mainstream mysteries are mysteries and then some. Subplots, a conflicted character, stuff going on in the character's life that churns through the words. These books are cross-over books in that readers who don't normally read straight genre mysteries may pick one up and read it. Of course, genre readers will, too, so in theory the book has a wider appeal. I know nothing about what really drives the sales of mysteries. Obviously.
I am a mainstream mystery author. But ye gods all those words add up.
When Festival Madness hit 70,000 words, I began to have trouble keeping track of all the little details. Had to go back and reread recent scenes. Apparently I can keep 70,000 words in my head and not a lot more. So I have to keep re-reading as I progress. Not a bad thing, just an annoyance. How many times did I mention the Quincy software house? Too many? Just right? Is it becoming a drag? Signally too heavily? Arrrrgh!
On Miss Snark I read about a 296,000 word fantasy. Jeeminy Criminey that's a lot of words. Hate to keep those straight. Thriller may chew up a huge word count. I have clocked a few at 200,000+ . My feelings about this. A book requires the words a book requires. A conscientious author will pare as much as possible and a little of possible and that's how many words are left. In the case of Festival Madness, I hope it comes out around 90,000. Seems like a goodly number. We get to see the man burn, the temple burn, learn about Jean Claude's love life and solve the crime.
Word Count. Numbers people like me love to keep track. There are some in my writer's group who don't have a clue as to how to figure it out. Use the PC as a typewriter and filing cabinet. Takes all kinds of writers. And readers. Hooray for that!
Grapeshot
There are two kinds of mysteries: genre mysteries and mainstream mysteries. Apparently the difference is that a genre mystery is 75,000 - 85,000 words and is strictly a mystery. No or few subplots, not much description, no deep character depictions. Solve the crime and get on with it. These mysteries can be a good read and have devoted fans. I recall that I could start an Agatha Christie mystery at 9:00 and close the book at 11:00. A quick good read.
Mainstream mysteries are mysteries and then some. Subplots, a conflicted character, stuff going on in the character's life that churns through the words. These books are cross-over books in that readers who don't normally read straight genre mysteries may pick one up and read it. Of course, genre readers will, too, so in theory the book has a wider appeal. I know nothing about what really drives the sales of mysteries. Obviously.
I am a mainstream mystery author. But ye gods all those words add up.
When Festival Madness hit 70,000 words, I began to have trouble keeping track of all the little details. Had to go back and reread recent scenes. Apparently I can keep 70,000 words in my head and not a lot more. So I have to keep re-reading as I progress. Not a bad thing, just an annoyance. How many times did I mention the Quincy software house? Too many? Just right? Is it becoming a drag? Signally too heavily? Arrrrgh!
On Miss Snark I read about a 296,000 word fantasy. Jeeminy Criminey that's a lot of words. Hate to keep those straight. Thriller may chew up a huge word count. I have clocked a few at 200,000+ . My feelings about this. A book requires the words a book requires. A conscientious author will pare as much as possible and a little of possible and that's how many words are left. In the case of Festival Madness, I hope it comes out around 90,000. Seems like a goodly number. We get to see the man burn, the temple burn, learn about Jean Claude's love life and solve the crime.
Word Count. Numbers people like me love to keep track. There are some in my writer's group who don't have a clue as to how to figure it out. Use the PC as a typewriter and filing cabinet. Takes all kinds of writers. And readers. Hooray for that!
Grapeshot
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Mystery Readers are People People
Mystery readers don't like technology. Agents don't like technology. Who does like technology? Let's hear a great big cheer for technology. What's that? I hear boos and grumbling in the background.
The last few days, in Festival Madness, I've written about keyloggers and re-mailers. Technical? Yes? Fascinating? I think so. Basically, long ago I said "screw it! I'll write about what I want to write about."
This is the information age and no one wants novels about technology? How crazy is that?
Everyone who read The Shadow Warriors liked it. Well, O.K., maybe 50 people. Naturally there's violence and conflict and craziness, a little sex, a little booze, rock and roll, drugs. All the good stuff. Good to read about.
What do mystery readers like? Families, cats, knitting, gardens,corpses,tea,tea cozies? I think the genre is broad enough for a little techical folderol. No? Damn! Pass my smelling salts.
Grapeshot
The last few days, in Festival Madness, I've written about keyloggers and re-mailers. Technical? Yes? Fascinating? I think so. Basically, long ago I said "screw it! I'll write about what I want to write about."
This is the information age and no one wants novels about technology? How crazy is that?
Everyone who read The Shadow Warriors liked it. Well, O.K., maybe 50 people. Naturally there's violence and conflict and craziness, a little sex, a little booze, rock and roll, drugs. All the good stuff. Good to read about.
What do mystery readers like? Families, cats, knitting, gardens,corpses,tea,tea cozies? I think the genre is broad enough for a little techical folderol. No? Damn! Pass my smelling salts.
Grapeshot
Friday, September 22, 2006
OneWebDay
Today is OneWebDay (OWD) a celebration of the Internet's ability to create communication, collaboration and let all participate.
What does the web mean to me?
My web page, my blog, easy communication within the writing and other groups I belong to. Online banking, online research, online friends. Seeing my book for sale and my blurb on Amazon. My voyeur impulses sated. No, not what you think but checking out stranger's blogs and feeling kinship. It's cool to post my cats photos on the web. Burning Man. Email. What would we do without email? The web makes life easy and even complicated, but then that's life. I love to be able to sit at my PC in my jammies and order a book or cosmetics or a sweater at 1:00 a.m. I can research just about anything. Today it was re-mailers. Yesterday it was keyloggers and CAT Scans.
The world is at our fingertips. Get a new job! Sell that stuff in the attic. Find a pet. Blog your pet, your new baby, your world. It's my world too.
The web is cool. Very cool.
Grapeshot
What does the web mean to me?
My web page, my blog, easy communication within the writing and other groups I belong to. Online banking, online research, online friends. Seeing my book for sale and my blurb on Amazon. My voyeur impulses sated. No, not what you think but checking out stranger's blogs and feeling kinship. It's cool to post my cats photos on the web. Burning Man. Email. What would we do without email? The web makes life easy and even complicated, but then that's life. I love to be able to sit at my PC in my jammies and order a book or cosmetics or a sweater at 1:00 a.m. I can research just about anything. Today it was re-mailers. Yesterday it was keyloggers and CAT Scans.
The world is at our fingertips. Get a new job! Sell that stuff in the attic. Find a pet. Blog your pet, your new baby, your world. It's my world too.
The web is cool. Very cool.
Grapeshot
A Chain of Circumstance
Bopping around the house listening to Zazie and Pascal Obispo. French singers, not exactly household words in this neck of the woods. Found the CD on Air France en route to Paris and points north. They are now my little secret.
That same flight, after staying up half the night listening to the music over and over again, I also saw rosy-fingered dawn. Damn, that Homer was good. Imagine one's words lasting so long. But I digress. Not only did I get my paws on the CD, I used the dawn as foreshadowing in World of Mirrors.
We are in Zara, the narrator's head:
I woke up with a thirst from too much wine. The humming drone of jet engines. Sprawled in the wide leather seat, wrapped in a soft blanket, hurling through the night en route to Germany. I raised the window shade. A faint light in the eastern sky. Not yet dawn but not dark either. Suspended between day and night. We were flying over a deep layer of clouds. My eyes opened wider. Red pools of molten blood lay atop the clouds. This eerie sight had to be an illusion from the light of the rising sun, but it looked so real. My heart hammered as I stared at the crimson lakes. Red sky at morning had never looked like this strange. ©
When I think of the old stuff, stories, experiences, and all that I have dredged up during the writing process! And then sometimes, you open the blind on the airplane and it is handed to you. Thinking about doing some English words to Desenchantee. How cool would that be?
The garden looks great. I've been on a grooming binge, clipping off dead flowers, one last feeding, and much admiration. It's so nice to work outside now that the weather is cooler. Bad deer at the toad lilies again, but they have blooms acoming, so don't seem to mind. Toad Lillies! What a name. How could I not buy them? The golden rod is finally blooming along with the sedum. Sedum is a wonderful plant, because it spreads. Goldenrod spreads, too, but I can't believe I actually bought it. "You paid good money for a weed," I tell myself, everytime I walk past the poor maligned plant.
Grapeshot, who is in a rather good mood because of the really cool French music.
That same flight, after staying up half the night listening to the music over and over again, I also saw rosy-fingered dawn. Damn, that Homer was good. Imagine one's words lasting so long. But I digress. Not only did I get my paws on the CD, I used the dawn as foreshadowing in World of Mirrors.
We are in Zara, the narrator's head:
I woke up with a thirst from too much wine. The humming drone of jet engines. Sprawled in the wide leather seat, wrapped in a soft blanket, hurling through the night en route to Germany. I raised the window shade. A faint light in the eastern sky. Not yet dawn but not dark either. Suspended between day and night. We were flying over a deep layer of clouds. My eyes opened wider. Red pools of molten blood lay atop the clouds. This eerie sight had to be an illusion from the light of the rising sun, but it looked so real. My heart hammered as I stared at the crimson lakes. Red sky at morning had never looked like this strange. ©
When I think of the old stuff, stories, experiences, and all that I have dredged up during the writing process! And then sometimes, you open the blind on the airplane and it is handed to you. Thinking about doing some English words to Desenchantee. How cool would that be?
The garden looks great. I've been on a grooming binge, clipping off dead flowers, one last feeding, and much admiration. It's so nice to work outside now that the weather is cooler. Bad deer at the toad lilies again, but they have blooms acoming, so don't seem to mind. Toad Lillies! What a name. How could I not buy them? The golden rod is finally blooming along with the sedum. Sedum is a wonderful plant, because it spreads. Goldenrod spreads, too, but I can't believe I actually bought it. "You paid good money for a weed," I tell myself, everytime I walk past the poor maligned plant.
Grapeshot, who is in a rather good mood because of the really cool French music.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Suspicions Confirmed
Miss Snark opened a hornet's nest with her comments about the Sobol novel contest. Amonst the gazillion comments was this from anonymous:
"Believe me, I've worked in a few literary agencies, and 99% of the stuff that comes in never makes it past the first paragraph of the query letter. Our agents use everything possible to make money, including taking the unused stamps off your SASE. Worse than that, we would spend our days amusing ourselves with stupid entries and gimmicks. Think your material is awesome? Well, give it to a room full of recent college grad interns who believe their work should be looked at before yours, and they'll tear your masterpiece to shreds--literally and figureatively speaking. "
I've had this sneaky hunch for a while. Anonymous has confirmed same. Just one more reason to . . . suck it up!
"Believe me, I've worked in a few literary agencies, and 99% of the stuff that comes in never makes it past the first paragraph of the query letter. Our agents use everything possible to make money, including taking the unused stamps off your SASE. Worse than that, we would spend our days amusing ourselves with stupid entries and gimmicks. Think your material is awesome? Well, give it to a room full of recent college grad interns who believe their work should be looked at before yours, and they'll tear your masterpiece to shreds--literally and figureatively speaking. "
I've had this sneaky hunch for a while. Anonymous has confirmed same. Just one more reason to . . . suck it up!
Le Train des Enfoirés
Finally, finally the mailman delivered the CD's of Le Train des Enfoirés to the door. This is music I heard on an Air France flight last winter and had a helluva time finding in this country. Amazon wanted $60.00 or some such nonsense. At last through a European connection the CDs were found and then mailed. The albums are made to raise money for worthy causes, in this case against hunger. The singers donate their talent. There's an oddball mix of music, from traditional French music hall to much more current stuff. But good. I am enchanted.
More agent queries mailed today. Tonight is my writing group and only 3 of 9 could attend so we bagged it. Not everyone is as committed as Grapeshot, who has writing group right up there with God, Mother and Country.
Alors,
Grapeshot
More agent queries mailed today. Tonight is my writing group and only 3 of 9 could attend so we bagged it. Not everyone is as committed as Grapeshot, who has writing group right up there with God, Mother and Country.
Alors,
Grapeshot
Monday, September 18, 2006
Award for the Unagented
Zowie! I got all excited when I heard about the Sobol Award for an unagented, unpublished novel, then came down to earth when everyone said that it was a) a scheme to make lots of money by charging pre-pubbed writers $85.00 to enter, and that the Sobol L.A. had never sold any books anyhow (this is hearsay) and that you have to agree to be represented by Sobol when you enter. The prize is $100,000 so that ain't bad. It you charge 2000 writers 85 dollars a pop, well, you can do the math. They could easily get 5000 entries. Who knows how many good, bad and indifferent novels there are stuffed in drawers or on closet shelves and even in some obscure folder of one's computer?
So I won't enter.
Miss Snark and Preditors and Editors have given the contest thumbs down. More hopes dashed! Not that one of my books would win. I am not really a touchy-feely writer doing family stories. Sigh.
The "long" synopsis for Promiscuous Mode has been polished a bit and I inserted quotes here and there to give a flavor of the book. My cozy with an edge. Quite an edge, actually. Plenty of illicit sex and profanity, but the violence is all off-screen so to speak.
I worked hard all day and got everything done and now I am going to sit on the deck, admire the colors turning down in the slough and hope the hummingbird stops by for a nosh of nectar. And wine. Must drink wine.
Onward,
Grapeshot
So I won't enter.
Miss Snark and Preditors and Editors have given the contest thumbs down. More hopes dashed! Not that one of my books would win. I am not really a touchy-feely writer doing family stories. Sigh.
The "long" synopsis for Promiscuous Mode has been polished a bit and I inserted quotes here and there to give a flavor of the book. My cozy with an edge. Quite an edge, actually. Plenty of illicit sex and profanity, but the violence is all off-screen so to speak.
I worked hard all day and got everything done and now I am going to sit on the deck, admire the colors turning down in the slough and hope the hummingbird stops by for a nosh of nectar. And wine. Must drink wine.
Onward,
Grapeshot
Sunday, September 17, 2006
New England Bookseller's Association
NEBA for short. Today and yesterday at the Convention Center in Providence. Lots of bookstore people and publishers. Lots of books, many of which are given away or raffled off. A book lover's paradise. Nice day, too. Some footrace in Providence causing traffic problems, but not too many.
A few VERY bookish types turned up noses at mysteries and mystery literature. I think we should call it all Crime Fiction, which has a broader more inclusive umbrella. Three of us manning the booth talked about reading Proust a lot, also Madam Bovary, so I guess we were as literary as anyone else. We didn't flaunt it and we aren't ashamed of writing "genre."
Speaking of genre, New York Times panned Dennis Lehane's new book today. Gave decent review to Le Carre, but the Globe panned Le Carre. Marilyn Stasio's column in the NYT was interesting, as is the best seller list which has undergone a huge change from a few week's ago and is very literary for a change. Yay! The Globe's best seller list from here in Boston was VERY literary. Just Janet Evanovich holding down the lite and genre stuff.
Talked to a publisher about the Festival Madness book, but he didn't seem too enthused. Thought Burning Man was in England. Must have had it confused with some weird Stonehenge rites. I give up. I am so far out of the mainstream of anything, so far out that I must be in. But nobody knows.
Got to tend to my Mexican Soup.
Buy a good book and read it, then buy it again and give it to a friend.
Grapeshot
A few VERY bookish types turned up noses at mysteries and mystery literature. I think we should call it all Crime Fiction, which has a broader more inclusive umbrella. Three of us manning the booth talked about reading Proust a lot, also Madam Bovary, so I guess we were as literary as anyone else. We didn't flaunt it and we aren't ashamed of writing "genre."
Speaking of genre, New York Times panned Dennis Lehane's new book today. Gave decent review to Le Carre, but the Globe panned Le Carre. Marilyn Stasio's column in the NYT was interesting, as is the best seller list which has undergone a huge change from a few week's ago and is very literary for a change. Yay! The Globe's best seller list from here in Boston was VERY literary. Just Janet Evanovich holding down the lite and genre stuff.
Talked to a publisher about the Festival Madness book, but he didn't seem too enthused. Thought Burning Man was in England. Must have had it confused with some weird Stonehenge rites. I give up. I am so far out of the mainstream of anything, so far out that I must be in. But nobody knows.
Got to tend to my Mexican Soup.
Buy a good book and read it, then buy it again and give it to a friend.
Grapeshot
Saturday, September 16, 2006
Same Old Same Old
Article in weekend WSJ today about how writers are getting book contracts for grinding out stories using Jane Austen characters, TV characters (eg. House), Star Wars, Harry Potter, all popular characters from the media. Gee, that's really cool is you want to write derivative stuff about characters someone else has already invented.
Unprintable cursing.
Sound of a huge sucking up.
Sighs.
Resignation.
Frustration
Post in Miss Snark (you do know about Miss Snark, don't you? If not, google her) about what bad form it is to approach an author with the idea of getting a recommendation to an agent. Or asking author to read your drivel. Or pitching to agent during social times. Quite frankly, I have given up ever having a published author actually recommend my work to anyone, even their dog. Reputedly it happens, but it doesn't happen to me. Midlist authors are scrambling to keep their own stuff in print. Speaking of dogs, it's goddam dog eat dog out there. I have had generous writers introduce me to agents. They were gracious, and I won't forget such kindness and generosity, even if it came to naught, which it what it did.
So no Jane Austen, House, or what have you here from my pen.
Today I wrote a five page synopsis of Promiscuous Mode. Came out better than I thought it would. A little polishing, add a few choice quote and it will be ready for prime time or the two agents who wanted a "complete synopsis," not the one-two page view from forty thousand feet.
Now I am going to try to find something to watch on Television, always a dicey business. We had seared scallops with brussels sprouts and bacon for dinner. A New England winner. I worked in the garden and put the hummingbird feeder back up. The little dickenses are still here. I do like those tiny critters. Maggie, the old Scottish Highland cow is still vastly preggers with calf. All the news thats fit to print.
Grapeshot
Unprintable cursing.
Sound of a huge sucking up.
Sighs.
Resignation.
Frustration
Post in Miss Snark (you do know about Miss Snark, don't you? If not, google her) about what bad form it is to approach an author with the idea of getting a recommendation to an agent. Or asking author to read your drivel. Or pitching to agent during social times. Quite frankly, I have given up ever having a published author actually recommend my work to anyone, even their dog. Reputedly it happens, but it doesn't happen to me. Midlist authors are scrambling to keep their own stuff in print. Speaking of dogs, it's goddam dog eat dog out there. I have had generous writers introduce me to agents. They were gracious, and I won't forget such kindness and generosity, even if it came to naught, which it what it did.
So no Jane Austen, House, or what have you here from my pen.
Today I wrote a five page synopsis of Promiscuous Mode. Came out better than I thought it would. A little polishing, add a few choice quote and it will be ready for prime time or the two agents who wanted a "complete synopsis," not the one-two page view from forty thousand feet.
Now I am going to try to find something to watch on Television, always a dicey business. We had seared scallops with brussels sprouts and bacon for dinner. A New England winner. I worked in the garden and put the hummingbird feeder back up. The little dickenses are still here. I do like those tiny critters. Maggie, the old Scottish Highland cow is still vastly preggers with calf. All the news thats fit to print.
Grapeshot
Friday, September 15, 2006
R.I.P. Figs, Wellesley
In Wellesley today, running errands. Since 1995 we've been regulars at Todd English's Figs on Central Street, even after moving. It's one of the only places where we actually recognized the staff and they knew us. Good food. Good wine. Nice ambiance. We could share a pizza, share a big salad, drink a glass of excellent wine and spend $40.00. Enough pizza left over for one, maybe even two meals. Good pizza, not the greasy mess you get at the chains. Imaginative. Kids could order mac and cheese, diet freaks could order Olivia's Chicken. Seriously decadent bread pudding dessert. One night the couple next to us didn't eat all theirs. Have to say I was seriously tempted to stick my fork across the table and spear a bite. Didn't, of course.
So when we parked today, anticipating lunch, what an unpleasant surprise to see "closed, forever" on the door. Merde. Totally bummed. Felt like crying.
The place was always humming. Nice lunch business, too. Sometimes a wait for Saturday lunch. Always a wait in the evening. Wandered over to Ming Tsai's and asked the hostess there what the deal was. Fancy chef will open Italian restaurant. Well, duh! That's what we had here. Googled around on the web and besides other boo-hoos read something about lease up and partners didn't want to renew and concentrating on other businesses. Sent an email expressing my displeasure. What's a person to do?
Blue Ginger had great Korean Pork Barbeque sandwiches. Couldn't fault them. But dammit, it wasn't Figs.
No one in my writer's group ever ventured there. One person only eats Chinese takeout. Another thinks a saturdated fat gram is the devil incarnate. Must have sniffed out some bacon in something.
So, raise your glass to the late, lamented Figs of Wellesley. Closed forever. A damn shame.
Sadly,
Grapeshot
So when we parked today, anticipating lunch, what an unpleasant surprise to see "closed, forever" on the door. Merde. Totally bummed. Felt like crying.
The place was always humming. Nice lunch business, too. Sometimes a wait for Saturday lunch. Always a wait in the evening. Wandered over to Ming Tsai's and asked the hostess there what the deal was. Fancy chef will open Italian restaurant. Well, duh! That's what we had here. Googled around on the web and besides other boo-hoos read something about lease up and partners didn't want to renew and concentrating on other businesses. Sent an email expressing my displeasure. What's a person to do?
Blue Ginger had great Korean Pork Barbeque sandwiches. Couldn't fault them. But dammit, it wasn't Figs.
No one in my writer's group ever ventured there. One person only eats Chinese takeout. Another thinks a saturdated fat gram is the devil incarnate. Must have sniffed out some bacon in something.
So, raise your glass to the late, lamented Figs of Wellesley. Closed forever. A damn shame.
Sadly,
Grapeshot
Are We Adults Here, or What?
Tangential to writing: In a couple weeks, Milwaukee, Wisconsin will host a mystery convention called Bouchercon. I went last year (Chicago, that toddlin' town) and it was heaps of fun, exciting, informative and one got a bag of free books. The convention is at a hotel, with panels, banquets, book sales, schmoozing, lots of schmoozing and talking about writing.
I belong to a listserv, the topic of which is mystery writing, and there are lots of questions about Bouchercon from those who will be going for the first time. I am always amazed at the naiveté of first time conference goers, and the advice they receive. O.K., have fun hanging out at the bar seems like good advice. Relax, enjoy yourself, likewise. But stay hydrated? Eat oatmeal for breakfast? What are we here, in second grade. Are we adults or what?
I say burn the candle a bit at both ends. Sheesh! Grapeshot's idea of fun in not a wine cooler and oatmeal for breakfast. The hotel in Chicago had tremendous sticky buns. Those were the ONLY sticky buns I ate all year, but I certainly let myself enjoy them. Every meeting has water. O.K., drink some. But that would not be my advice to a first-time attendee.
Have fun! Have a blast! Live it up! Forget your goddamn cholesterol count and eat something that tastes good.
Grapeshot
I belong to a listserv, the topic of which is mystery writing, and there are lots of questions about Bouchercon from those who will be going for the first time. I am always amazed at the naiveté of first time conference goers, and the advice they receive. O.K., have fun hanging out at the bar seems like good advice. Relax, enjoy yourself, likewise. But stay hydrated? Eat oatmeal for breakfast? What are we here, in second grade. Are we adults or what?
I say burn the candle a bit at both ends. Sheesh! Grapeshot's idea of fun in not a wine cooler and oatmeal for breakfast. The hotel in Chicago had tremendous sticky buns. Those were the ONLY sticky buns I ate all year, but I certainly let myself enjoy them. Every meeting has water. O.K., drink some. But that would not be my advice to a first-time attendee.
Have fun! Have a blast! Live it up! Forget your goddamn cholesterol count and eat something that tastes good.
Grapeshot
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Expose Yourself
Essay is much too formal a word for these humble jottings, but today's title refers not to exhibitionism but rather how to publicize yourself as a writer thru a web page or blogging. Which I should be doing.
Significant Other mentioned that my blog, although purportedly about writing, veers all over the place like to food and recipes, hummingbirds, excursions and everything under the sun. That is true.
The other thing is that my web page hasn't been updated in a donkey's age, although I promise myself that this will happen soon. New photo, new recipes, new writing chapters, new everything.
Talking about writing all the time is somewhat tedious. I am a Gemini and find everything tedious after a while, particularly rejection and sucking it up. That's the way things are. But back to "Expose Yourself." I will be conducting a roundtable on this very subject at an upcoming mystery conference. Writing these days, isn't just about writing, it's also about networking, marketing, and putting your well shod foot forward. A beginning writer has little choice. You just have to do it, and if like me, you would really rather sit in front of your computer and hide from the world and write, well tough shit. Suck it up and get out there and expose yourself. Arrrrrghhhh!
One of the things I am doing to make this less painful and more productive is that I am learning public speaking, under the auspices of the Toastmaster's Club. I gave my first speech and have written my second, which is a humorous speech to be delivered next week. So how is this going?
Better than you might think. I joined a club of (mostly) techies, so these are people I feel comfortable around. We don't geek out, but somehow the chemistry works. The other thing that I have discovered is that at least the writing of the speech is not that diffcicult, and like fiction, you write it and then you polish polish polish and then you start practicing (with a timer of course) and then you find out what works and what doesn't and polish polish polish some more.
The good thing is you don't have to write freaking query letters and experience all that rejection. If you flub the speech you will get kind criticism and go on to the next. If you flub the novel, you will hit a brick wall and write the next which will take anywhere from two to five years. So giving speeches is easier than writing novels. Almost anything is easier than writing novels.
So there! I wrote about writing. As things progress, I will let you know how the Toastmaster's thing is helping. I have two events coming up at libraries, and we'll see how things go. Will I learn to modulate my (mostly) monotone voice? Will I master hand gestures? Speaking, like writing, can be learned. Now if I could just learn how to write the perfect query letter.
Still trying,
Grapeshot
Significant Other mentioned that my blog, although purportedly about writing, veers all over the place like to food and recipes, hummingbirds, excursions and everything under the sun. That is true.
The other thing is that my web page hasn't been updated in a donkey's age, although I promise myself that this will happen soon. New photo, new recipes, new writing chapters, new everything.
Talking about writing all the time is somewhat tedious. I am a Gemini and find everything tedious after a while, particularly rejection and sucking it up. That's the way things are. But back to "Expose Yourself." I will be conducting a roundtable on this very subject at an upcoming mystery conference. Writing these days, isn't just about writing, it's also about networking, marketing, and putting your well shod foot forward. A beginning writer has little choice. You just have to do it, and if like me, you would really rather sit in front of your computer and hide from the world and write, well tough shit. Suck it up and get out there and expose yourself. Arrrrrghhhh!
One of the things I am doing to make this less painful and more productive is that I am learning public speaking, under the auspices of the Toastmaster's Club. I gave my first speech and have written my second, which is a humorous speech to be delivered next week. So how is this going?
Better than you might think. I joined a club of (mostly) techies, so these are people I feel comfortable around. We don't geek out, but somehow the chemistry works. The other thing that I have discovered is that at least the writing of the speech is not that diffcicult, and like fiction, you write it and then you polish polish polish and then you start practicing (with a timer of course) and then you find out what works and what doesn't and polish polish polish some more.
The good thing is you don't have to write freaking query letters and experience all that rejection. If you flub the speech you will get kind criticism and go on to the next. If you flub the novel, you will hit a brick wall and write the next which will take anywhere from two to five years. So giving speeches is easier than writing novels. Almost anything is easier than writing novels.
So there! I wrote about writing. As things progress, I will let you know how the Toastmaster's thing is helping. I have two events coming up at libraries, and we'll see how things go. Will I learn to modulate my (mostly) monotone voice? Will I master hand gestures? Speaking, like writing, can be learned. Now if I could just learn how to write the perfect query letter.
Still trying,
Grapeshot
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Five Easy Pieces
This movie from 1970 is the first movie I ever saw with Jack Nicholson in it. He looked and sounded like Jack but young, handsome and with lots of hair. The cast was great, sound track interesting, lots of cool actors like Sally Struthers that I hadn't remembered in the movie. Karen Black. Susan Anspach. An even younger Jack Nicholson was in an Antonioni movie, but I saw that later. Good cinematography. They don't make movies like this anymore. Times have changed. It sure as hell isn't 1970. The movie was about alienation which I have been thinking a lot about lately. Why?
When one feels excluded from the a group, that is alienating. The exclusion can be self-exclusion, but right now agents are excluding me from the group of writers with agent representation, and therefore I am feeling a little, well, alienated. I first recognized alienation in Camus' L'Etranger, the Stranger. You know this is weird but I can't remember if I read it in English or French. Surprising to think I could ever read French that well. We read a bunch of novels and some of them went right over my head, that for example, the main character was gay or whatever. But Camus was different. Malraux, too. Sartre is diffciult in any language.
I have been having troubles reading mysteries lately. I pick them up and then I mostly put them down. So I've been reading non-fiction, but I should be reading in the field. Can't remember the last one I loved. Mostly its a struggle to finish. Maybe I should not even try to ready mysteries when I am writing one. Maybe maybe maybe.
Today I took the train into Boston and attended a computer security seminar, since I am in theory writing books about computer crime. Interesting stuff. Met a friend for lunch. We ate at the Barking Crab by the courthouse. Blackened halibut sandwich. Yum! Sure do cotton to blackened fish.
I have just about finished mapping out the Great Adirondack Tour. This is pretty exciting. Picked up the AAA book today, and a New York State Map. I'm hoping the trip inspires me to write a thrilling action-packed conclusion. Right now I am struggling a bit. Maybe there comes a time in every novel where the writer think, "well, this is pretty stupid." I am at that point now. And I am procrastinating over the longer, more detailed synopsis. God, it would be nice just to write. Let the words flow. Sometimes they do. But not always. I could try longhand. The brain to fingers connection.
Time to coax the cat out of the garage and hack away at that mystery.
Stay tuned for a chicken casserole that rocks and a plum dessert that is so easy anyone can make it. Anyway who can turn on an oven and slice a plum.
Onward,
Grapeshot
When one feels excluded from the a group, that is alienating. The exclusion can be self-exclusion, but right now agents are excluding me from the group of writers with agent representation, and therefore I am feeling a little, well, alienated. I first recognized alienation in Camus' L'Etranger, the Stranger. You know this is weird but I can't remember if I read it in English or French. Surprising to think I could ever read French that well. We read a bunch of novels and some of them went right over my head, that for example, the main character was gay or whatever. But Camus was different. Malraux, too. Sartre is diffciult in any language.
I have been having troubles reading mysteries lately. I pick them up and then I mostly put them down. So I've been reading non-fiction, but I should be reading in the field. Can't remember the last one I loved. Mostly its a struggle to finish. Maybe I should not even try to ready mysteries when I am writing one. Maybe maybe maybe.
Today I took the train into Boston and attended a computer security seminar, since I am in theory writing books about computer crime. Interesting stuff. Met a friend for lunch. We ate at the Barking Crab by the courthouse. Blackened halibut sandwich. Yum! Sure do cotton to blackened fish.
I have just about finished mapping out the Great Adirondack Tour. This is pretty exciting. Picked up the AAA book today, and a New York State Map. I'm hoping the trip inspires me to write a thrilling action-packed conclusion. Right now I am struggling a bit. Maybe there comes a time in every novel where the writer think, "well, this is pretty stupid." I am at that point now. And I am procrastinating over the longer, more detailed synopsis. God, it would be nice just to write. Let the words flow. Sometimes they do. But not always. I could try longhand. The brain to fingers connection.
Time to coax the cat out of the garage and hack away at that mystery.
Stay tuned for a chicken casserole that rocks and a plum dessert that is so easy anyone can make it. Anyway who can turn on an oven and slice a plum.
Onward,
Grapeshot
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
The Dreaded Synopsis and Other Topics
Finally I changed my query and polished the synopsis to submit World of Mirrors to an honest to God publisher who reads unagented novels and even publishes crime novels with foreign locations which seems to be a big no-no right now but doesn't seem to stop Daniel Silva or Alan Furst. I must confess I do not understand the market, or what agents say the market is.
I do know one can't really write for the market because it will change before you get the book written. I had great hopes that the Wisconsin book (the heartland, cozy with an edge, cool characters, plot with people losing jobs because they are moving off shore, etc. ) would have some appeal, but by now it is beginning to amass a fair amount of rejections. Of course, one agent still has it, for months, with no communication. Not a good sign, and I am looking to move on to other agents. Two agents have "loved" it, but did not take it on for various reasons. This writing business ain't like any other. But I persist. Yes.
Today, instead of putting words to page, I still put butt to chair and studied maps of the great Adirondack Park in New York, where Festival Madness will have its exciting denouement. The plot seemed to need a locale where a sea plane can fly into a lake and people chase other people thru the wilderness without the amenities of roads and cell phones. Significant Other and I are actually going on a 2 1/2 day visit to park to scope things out and pick up local color. I've got a lot of tourist brochures and a lot of web sites, and am chomping at the bit to go there. Can't believe we've lived in New England for so long without venturing across the border and north into the park. I'm still figuring the details of the plot out, which I usually do as I go along. There are some difficulties, which can be overcome with creative thinking and writing. I sure as hell hope so.
No idea if this book is any more marketable than the others. One would think with a big section taking place at Burning Man, but one would think a lot of things and be dead wrong.
I have noticed that some agents are no longer taking submissions from writers who aren't recommended by someone else, like a published writer. A new Catch-22. Should I chain myself to something until someone will sit down and read the freaking manuscripts? That's not really a Grapeshot kind of solution.
What is? Persistence and sucking it up. Nose pressed against the window, I remain,
Grapeshot
I do know one can't really write for the market because it will change before you get the book written. I had great hopes that the Wisconsin book (the heartland, cozy with an edge, cool characters, plot with people losing jobs because they are moving off shore, etc. ) would have some appeal, but by now it is beginning to amass a fair amount of rejections. Of course, one agent still has it, for months, with no communication. Not a good sign, and I am looking to move on to other agents. Two agents have "loved" it, but did not take it on for various reasons. This writing business ain't like any other. But I persist. Yes.
Today, instead of putting words to page, I still put butt to chair and studied maps of the great Adirondack Park in New York, where Festival Madness will have its exciting denouement. The plot seemed to need a locale where a sea plane can fly into a lake and people chase other people thru the wilderness without the amenities of roads and cell phones. Significant Other and I are actually going on a 2 1/2 day visit to park to scope things out and pick up local color. I've got a lot of tourist brochures and a lot of web sites, and am chomping at the bit to go there. Can't believe we've lived in New England for so long without venturing across the border and north into the park. I'm still figuring the details of the plot out, which I usually do as I go along. There are some difficulties, which can be overcome with creative thinking and writing. I sure as hell hope so.
No idea if this book is any more marketable than the others. One would think with a big section taking place at Burning Man, but one would think a lot of things and be dead wrong.
I have noticed that some agents are no longer taking submissions from writers who aren't recommended by someone else, like a published writer. A new Catch-22. Should I chain myself to something until someone will sit down and read the freaking manuscripts? That's not really a Grapeshot kind of solution.
What is? Persistence and sucking it up. Nose pressed against the window, I remain,
Grapeshot
Monday, September 11, 2006
September 11th
The hours of September 11th and its aftermath never seem very far away, always ready to pull one into the horror again. It's hard to believe five years have come and gone.
Soon after commercial planes were flying again, I had to make several trips. Talkied to a guy at work who had a trip planned right away. It was the first time I heard the expression "suck it up." He was going to suck it up and get on the plane and go. So that's what I did, and then a 2nd time taking the place of someone at a training class who refused to fly. Lots of people refused to fly. I would pump myself up into a kind of fearlessnes, prepared to fight with teeth, nails, handbag, whatever weapons were at hand. A cane would be good. The expression "tooth and nail" came to mind.
Fight tooth and nail: Engage in vigorous combat or make a strenuous effort, using all one's resources. For example, I'm going to fight tooth and nail for that promotion. This expression, with its allusion to biting and scratching, was first recorded in 1576.
1576: times haven't changed much. Wars, plagues, conflagrations.
I was in Baltimore when the anthrax scare was going on. The cell phones still didn't work in Hagerstown. Sometimes I find all the little flag pins in my jewelry drawer. September 11th is never far away. And yet, the Globe pointed out this morning, people will forget, just like they forgot Pearl Harbor and other days of infamy. Every generation has its Armageddon.
Moments of silence and meditation are the best remembrance.
Soon after commercial planes were flying again, I had to make several trips. Talkied to a guy at work who had a trip planned right away. It was the first time I heard the expression "suck it up." He was going to suck it up and get on the plane and go. So that's what I did, and then a 2nd time taking the place of someone at a training class who refused to fly. Lots of people refused to fly. I would pump myself up into a kind of fearlessnes, prepared to fight with teeth, nails, handbag, whatever weapons were at hand. A cane would be good. The expression "tooth and nail" came to mind.
Fight tooth and nail: Engage in vigorous combat or make a strenuous effort, using all one's resources. For example, I'm going to fight tooth and nail for that promotion. This expression, with its allusion to biting and scratching, was first recorded in 1576.
1576: times haven't changed much. Wars, plagues, conflagrations.
I was in Baltimore when the anthrax scare was going on. The cell phones still didn't work in Hagerstown. Sometimes I find all the little flag pins in my jewelry drawer. September 11th is never far away. And yet, the Globe pointed out this morning, people will forget, just like they forgot Pearl Harbor and other days of infamy. Every generation has its Armageddon.
Moments of silence and meditation are the best remembrance.
Saturday, September 09, 2006
Books Men Like
Surfing around trying to find a definition of alienation that I could live with, I happened upon a list of books that men felt had changed and influenced their lives. The women's list was very different, with Jane Austen leading it off and Marilyn French and Margaret Atwood as well as other more to the female liking like the Brontes. None of the so-called women's books had any influence on me, but many of the men's did. What does this mean? I don't know.
Years ago, I had, for a while, a cyber-friend, a fellow writer with whom I corresponded. Finally we exchanged manuscripts via email. I spent a lot of time on his (perfectly dreadful) opus, trying to give useful criticism. He simply said, "Boy, I sure could tell yours was written by a woman!" Excuse me. The cyber-friendship petered out quickly after that. I met him face to face once at a writer's meeting and he barely said hello. Never showed up at that group again either. Cyber-friendships are as loaded as others, maybe more so.
For what it's worth, here's the list of books that Really Really spoke to the male of the species, at least the anglo-male.
The Outsider by Albert Camus
Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad
Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky
The Great Gatsby by F Scott Fitzgerald
Brighton Rock by Graham Greene
Catch 22 by Joseph Heller
High Fidelity by Nick Hornby
Ulysses by James Joyce
Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka
The Book of Laughter and Forgetting by Milan Kundera
To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov
1984 by George Orwell
The Catcher in the Rye by JD Salinger
The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck
The Hobbit by JRR Tolkien
The Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkien
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain
Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut
We woman have certainly been influenced by many of these wonderful books, not just Jane Austen. Women can be alienated, too, damn it. And not a kinder, gentler alienation.
The bushes in the slough are turning red, as is a maple down by the water's edge. Some of the birds are gone already, including my hummingbird friend. "As is the generation of leaves, so is that of men." Every autumn I have to think about that.
If you want to read more about the sexes feeling strongly about books, here is the link:
http://books.guardian.co.uk/news/articles/0,,1747821,00.html#article_continue
Grapeshot
Years ago, I had, for a while, a cyber-friend, a fellow writer with whom I corresponded. Finally we exchanged manuscripts via email. I spent a lot of time on his (perfectly dreadful) opus, trying to give useful criticism. He simply said, "Boy, I sure could tell yours was written by a woman!" Excuse me. The cyber-friendship petered out quickly after that. I met him face to face once at a writer's meeting and he barely said hello. Never showed up at that group again either. Cyber-friendships are as loaded as others, maybe more so.
For what it's worth, here's the list of books that Really Really spoke to the male of the species, at least the anglo-male.
The Outsider by Albert Camus
Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad
Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky
The Great Gatsby by F Scott Fitzgerald
Brighton Rock by Graham Greene
Catch 22 by Joseph Heller
High Fidelity by Nick Hornby
Ulysses by James Joyce
Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka
The Book of Laughter and Forgetting by Milan Kundera
To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov
1984 by George Orwell
The Catcher in the Rye by JD Salinger
The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck
The Hobbit by JRR Tolkien
The Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkien
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain
Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut
We woman have certainly been influenced by many of these wonderful books, not just Jane Austen. Women can be alienated, too, damn it. And not a kinder, gentler alienation.
The bushes in the slough are turning red, as is a maple down by the water's edge. Some of the birds are gone already, including my hummingbird friend. "As is the generation of leaves, so is that of men." Every autumn I have to think about that.
If you want to read more about the sexes feeling strongly about books, here is the link:
http://books.guardian.co.uk/news/articles/0,,1747821,00.html#article_continue
Grapeshot
The Chicken Bone Saloon
One of the many good things about writing is getting to do research in funky places. Last night, Significant Other and I put on our suburbanites-trying-to-be-cool duds and ventured out for a Friday night at the Chicken Bone Saloon. www.thechickenbone.com
I modeled the Bone's bar in my so-far-unsold Wisconsin mystery, Promiscuous Mode, on the CB Saloon. Now I need it for a scene in Festival Madness. Hadn't been there for a few years, so we decided to pay a return visit.
The band was Fat Wall, and they were actually pretty good. I ordered the hot garlic wings with bones, natch, which tasted yummy until about five a.m. at which time I woke up with a humongous thirst. S.O., not being a wing person, had a cheese burger and fries. Fries very tasty.
The saloon does a big business delivering take-out, and we were astounded at the huge container which left for the burbs around nine. There are plenty of TV sets, games, dart board, etc. and a long bar. Good people watching. Big menu, which even has salads and stuff that is good for you. Go figure.
Lots of women in skimpy tops, which seems to be de rigeur these days unless one is older and well, you know.
Sam Adams on tap. Grapeshot ordered rum on ice, not being a beer drinker and leery of wine in saloons. Friendly service. So, I'm set up for the scene after the current scene in Festival Madness.
And waiting for hear from a bunch of agents who seem to have decided to soak the 39 cent stamp off my SASE and use it to pay electric bills. Or something. Damn.
I modeled the Bone's bar in my so-far-unsold Wisconsin mystery, Promiscuous Mode, on the CB Saloon. Now I need it for a scene in Festival Madness. Hadn't been there for a few years, so we decided to pay a return visit.
The band was Fat Wall, and they were actually pretty good. I ordered the hot garlic wings with bones, natch, which tasted yummy until about five a.m. at which time I woke up with a humongous thirst. S.O., not being a wing person, had a cheese burger and fries. Fries very tasty.
The saloon does a big business delivering take-out, and we were astounded at the huge container which left for the burbs around nine. There are plenty of TV sets, games, dart board, etc. and a long bar. Good people watching. Big menu, which even has salads and stuff that is good for you. Go figure.
Lots of women in skimpy tops, which seems to be de rigeur these days unless one is older and well, you know.
Sam Adams on tap. Grapeshot ordered rum on ice, not being a beer drinker and leery of wine in saloons. Friendly service. So, I'm set up for the scene after the current scene in Festival Madness.
And waiting for hear from a bunch of agents who seem to have decided to soak the 39 cent stamp off my SASE and use it to pay electric bills. Or something. Damn.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Beyond Black Rock
Last night I watched Beyond Black Rock on Comcast pay per view. An excellent documentary about Burning Man.
I'm still in mourning for not being able to be there last week. Seeing this helped. Even recognized a few folks.
Does anyone know where this came from? It was all over the net a few months ago. I cannot find an attribution.
Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, martini in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming..." Holy Shit! What a ride!"
I have actually been writing. Over 70,000 words in Festival Madness. Yay!
Grapeshot
I'm still in mourning for not being able to be there last week. Seeing this helped. Even recognized a few folks.
Does anyone know where this came from? It was all over the net a few months ago. I cannot find an attribution.
Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, martini in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming..." Holy Shit! What a ride!"
I have actually been writing. Over 70,000 words in Festival Madness. Yay!
Grapeshot
Monday, September 04, 2006
TBRITU
TBRITU is short for The Best Ribs in the Universe. Can't say they were the best, cuz I ain't tried them all, but these were smokin' in more ways that one.
Tender, smoky and tasty. When we took them out of the smoker (see previous post) they didn't fall off the bone, but you could see the tenderness. I brushed them with just a smidgeon of KC Barbecue Sauce mixed with a little honey. Yum!
The coleslaw wasn't too shabby and the corn was so good it needed neither salt nor butter. Ah, but the ribs. We restrained ourselves to save enough for a second meal. The deep smoky flavor was divine. You can do wondrous things with smoke. We used hickory blocks and chips. What else would one use for ribs?
Lovely Labor day and evening here in Massachusetts. Took a walk around the town. Yesterday, in the rain saw a deer with her half-grown fawn. . Walking in a light drizzle is nice. A meal of home-smoked ribs is nice. Count blessings. Find many.
One of these days someone with the power to print will even love one of my books. Zowie!
Tender, smoky and tasty. When we took them out of the smoker (see previous post) they didn't fall off the bone, but you could see the tenderness. I brushed them with just a smidgeon of KC Barbecue Sauce mixed with a little honey. Yum!
The coleslaw wasn't too shabby and the corn was so good it needed neither salt nor butter. Ah, but the ribs. We restrained ourselves to save enough for a second meal. The deep smoky flavor was divine. You can do wondrous things with smoke. We used hickory blocks and chips. What else would one use for ribs?
Lovely Labor day and evening here in Massachusetts. Took a walk around the town. Yesterday, in the rain saw a deer with her half-grown fawn. . Walking in a light drizzle is nice. A meal of home-smoked ribs is nice. Count blessings. Find many.
One of these days someone with the power to print will even love one of my books. Zowie!
Smoke, Smoke, Smoke that Rack of Ribs
After a summer of slothfulness, we fired up the smoker this morning to try our first ribs ever, $20.00 worth, hopefully 2 dinners . A smoker is not like a grill, where you can start the fire, toss on a steak or a few burgers, turn them over once and eat. No. no. no.
First of all, we had to make the rub, in spite of the fact that I have a whole spice shelf from Penzey's. www.penzeys.com.
While the ribs are lounging around the kitchen with the rub on, the fire has to be started, a complicated process due to the fact that some real wood chunks are going to be burned, in this case hickory. So finally, the fire (after 2 hours, to coincide with the time the ribs are standing with the rub on, ( "aye, there's the rub!") is ready. We put the ribs in the rack. Of course immediately the smallest section falls out and I jerry rig some bamboo skewers to make sure that nothing is going to fall out. Lid goes on, smoke comes out of vents, all is well.
Now the recipe recommends smoking a a certain temperatures, and Significant Other and I trade dumb looks. I go back to the web site and discover that a candy thermometer placed in the top went will give a passable reading. I dig out the old thermometer and we have a proper reading. 225 degrees.
Back from our walk and the temperature is down. More charcoal. And yet more charcoal. Take a peek. Ribs look yummy. I make the cole slaw and the sauce to be brushed on after cooking. Read smoker cook book while I wait.
Not diet fare, kids.
Back to web site to find test for doneness. Not done yet. This is a fantastic web site. Has everything you didn't know enough to ask about smoking on the Weber Smoker.
www.virtualweberbullet.com
I'll try the chicken recipe next. Then we're going to smoke some trout. Maybe a turkey breast. Next year, we'll do a brisket. This smoking is a learn-as-you-go trial and error business. The salmon was incredible, by the way, and the chicken breast was also one for the books. Wish I had some fried okra. Reading cookbooks is usually a bad idea.
I also promised myself to bake bread once I "retired," but that hasn't happened yet either. Proficiency in using the smoker and baking artisan breads. Well, one of these days.
With the chicken parm, we had sauteed escarole last night, a Martha Stewart recipe, and it was very good. Beaucoup garlic. Grapeshot loves garlic. One always feels so righteous eating Dark Green Stuff.
Now I need to do some real work, all the while anticipating finger lickin' good.
Bon Apetite, you all.
Grapeshot
First of all, we had to make the rub, in spite of the fact that I have a whole spice shelf from Penzey's. www.penzeys.com.
While the ribs are lounging around the kitchen with the rub on, the fire has to be started, a complicated process due to the fact that some real wood chunks are going to be burned, in this case hickory. So finally, the fire (after 2 hours, to coincide with the time the ribs are standing with the rub on, ( "aye, there's the rub!") is ready. We put the ribs in the rack. Of course immediately the smallest section falls out and I jerry rig some bamboo skewers to make sure that nothing is going to fall out. Lid goes on, smoke comes out of vents, all is well.
Now the recipe recommends smoking a a certain temperatures, and Significant Other and I trade dumb looks. I go back to the web site and discover that a candy thermometer placed in the top went will give a passable reading. I dig out the old thermometer and we have a proper reading. 225 degrees.
Back from our walk and the temperature is down. More charcoal. And yet more charcoal. Take a peek. Ribs look yummy. I make the cole slaw and the sauce to be brushed on after cooking. Read smoker cook book while I wait.
Not diet fare, kids.
Back to web site to find test for doneness. Not done yet. This is a fantastic web site. Has everything you didn't know enough to ask about smoking on the Weber Smoker.
www.virtualweberbullet.com
I'll try the chicken recipe next. Then we're going to smoke some trout. Maybe a turkey breast. Next year, we'll do a brisket. This smoking is a learn-as-you-go trial and error business. The salmon was incredible, by the way, and the chicken breast was also one for the books. Wish I had some fried okra. Reading cookbooks is usually a bad idea.
I also promised myself to bake bread once I "retired," but that hasn't happened yet either. Proficiency in using the smoker and baking artisan breads. Well, one of these days.
With the chicken parm, we had sauteed escarole last night, a Martha Stewart recipe, and it was very good. Beaucoup garlic. Grapeshot loves garlic. One always feels so righteous eating Dark Green Stuff.
Now I need to do some real work, all the while anticipating finger lickin' good.
Bon Apetite, you all.
Grapeshot
Sunday, September 03, 2006
New York Times Best Sellers
On Sunday morning, I always read The Book Review first. Eventually, I get to the best seller lists, both hardcover and paperback. Sometimes, I run my numbers on them, because a) part of me is a geeky numbers person and b) it is like examining the chicken entrails to foretell the future of fiction.
What do we learn today?
The always interesting and forever changing male/female ratios.
The hardcover authors are equally divided with 8 female and 7 male. Zowie, the paperbacks are lopsided: 10 female and 5 male. Does this mean anything? Dunno. The paperbacks include the more prestigious, pricier "Trade Paperback," and there appear to be 5 Trade Paperbacks on the list this week. Three of the five male authors are represented by trade paperbacks.
More statistics: On the hardcover side of the house, protagonist-wise, 6 of the books appear to have couples as the protags, everything from "an aspiring actress and an FBI agent" to a young man and an elephant.
Males are the main characters in 6 if the books, and females in 4 and who knows about the fantasy? So we have some women authors careful to include a male as the 2nd main character.
Looking at the paperbacks, there are a few more "family" centered books, definite more tomes with the main character female, and interestingly enough, the following authors appear on both lists, no doubt humming a happy tune all the way to the bank, never mind how "dark" the fiction. Congratuate James Patterson and Andrew Gross, obviously a successful writing team, Sandra Brown, Nora Roberts and plucky Janet Evanovich. Wait! Don't forget Karin Slaughter, aptly named, from what I glean from the nasty murderers she likes to write about.
Books on both lists I am looking forward to reading:
Special Topics in Calamity Physics
Water for Elephants
Twelve Sharp
Pegasus Descending
The Kite Runner and
The Lincoln Lawyer.
Add The Alchemist
Last night, while waiting for the webcast of the bonfire at Burning Man, I was reading Mao II, an excellent book. I was about halfway thru when I realize that I'd read it before, but before 9/11. Go back and reread.
Grapeshot
What do we learn today?
The always interesting and forever changing male/female ratios.
The hardcover authors are equally divided with 8 female and 7 male. Zowie, the paperbacks are lopsided: 10 female and 5 male. Does this mean anything? Dunno. The paperbacks include the more prestigious, pricier "Trade Paperback," and there appear to be 5 Trade Paperbacks on the list this week. Three of the five male authors are represented by trade paperbacks.
More statistics: On the hardcover side of the house, protagonist-wise, 6 of the books appear to have couples as the protags, everything from "an aspiring actress and an FBI agent" to a young man and an elephant.
Males are the main characters in 6 if the books, and females in 4 and who knows about the fantasy? So we have some women authors careful to include a male as the 2nd main character.
Looking at the paperbacks, there are a few more "family" centered books, definite more tomes with the main character female, and interestingly enough, the following authors appear on both lists, no doubt humming a happy tune all the way to the bank, never mind how "dark" the fiction. Congratuate James Patterson and Andrew Gross, obviously a successful writing team, Sandra Brown, Nora Roberts and plucky Janet Evanovich. Wait! Don't forget Karin Slaughter, aptly named, from what I glean from the nasty murderers she likes to write about.
Books on both lists I am looking forward to reading:
Special Topics in Calamity Physics
Water for Elephants
Twelve Sharp
Pegasus Descending
The Kite Runner and
The Lincoln Lawyer.
Add The Alchemist
Last night, while waiting for the webcast of the bonfire at Burning Man, I was reading Mao II, an excellent book. I was about halfway thru when I realize that I'd read it before, but before 9/11. Go back and reread.
Grapeshot
Saturday, September 02, 2006
The Man Burns: It Means Whatever You Want It To
From the 2004 Burn. Note dust particles magnified in the air. This is how I described the burn in Festival Madness.
Weird and wonderful shapes descended from the sky, lit by a yellow moon that crept above the mountains. The fire dancers swirled like dervishes, and drums throbbed in the eerie light where glow sticks burned like neon candles. I was eerily conscious of each detail of this carnival night with its colors, sounds, tastes, smells and the absolute anticipation. The dancers spun in their circles of fire, and the drums pounded to a crescendo. Alone, the neon man loomed over the desert, canopied by thousands of twinkling stars.
The ritual began with a massive barrage of shooting rockets and fireworks illuminating the man, then a blaze of fire and a magic conflagration roared to life in a frenzy of heat and flames. The inferno raced up one of the man’s legs and consumed him bit by bit even as his triumphant arms remained raised, as in defiance. Everyone was yelling and shouting and music thumped out of a hundred speakers. In an eruption of galactic grandeur, the Man was burning bright. The Man was burning. ©
Grapeshot
Back to Basics
Now that my agent hopes have been dashed, smashed and trashed once again, I have decided to approach the one publisher who actually publishes work not dissimiliar to mine and who accepts unagented queries. Why haven't I done this before? Good question. This publisher has always been the ace up my sleeve, a kind of holding in reserve in case all else failed, and now, I think, with the rejections nearing 50, that all else has failed. Quite frankly, it will be terribly depressing to keep going until I have a 115 rejections. Besides, I only have so much filing space.
Now said publishing company will receive a new query written directly to them, not just a first sentence or two , but the entire query. I am also going to do a new synopsis. The first three chapters will have to hold their own. Maybe they will be tempting enough. Can't do anything about that.
I still have a few queries out, but they are all to uber agents who probably won't respond. It's been over 2 months for most of them. The rudeness/incompetence of this business is unmatched by any other. The customer is not king, but dreck, with the standard response of "sorry to treat you like dreck, but yada yada."
I have a colleague with a track record whose recent book was turned down about every publisher. Finally she placed it with a minor publisher, and it has received starred reviews from everyone. I have the hunch that the people who publish fiction have become like the movie industry, throwing expensive darts at the board while waving a rubber chicken at it. And dancing 3 times in a circle.
They should have deserted Shelter Island and gone out to the playa for the weekend to release the brain cells that respond to creativity. Where? Burning Man of Course. The New York Times has fantastic photos.
www.nytimes.com/arts
Follow this link. It's better than the yellow brick road.
Grapeshot
Now said publishing company will receive a new query written directly to them, not just a first sentence or two , but the entire query. I am also going to do a new synopsis. The first three chapters will have to hold their own. Maybe they will be tempting enough. Can't do anything about that.
I still have a few queries out, but they are all to uber agents who probably won't respond. It's been over 2 months for most of them. The rudeness/incompetence of this business is unmatched by any other. The customer is not king, but dreck, with the standard response of "sorry to treat you like dreck, but yada yada."
I have a colleague with a track record whose recent book was turned down about every publisher. Finally she placed it with a minor publisher, and it has received starred reviews from everyone. I have the hunch that the people who publish fiction have become like the movie industry, throwing expensive darts at the board while waving a rubber chicken at it. And dancing 3 times in a circle.
They should have deserted Shelter Island and gone out to the playa for the weekend to release the brain cells that respond to creativity. Where? Burning Man of Course. The New York Times has fantastic photos.
www.nytimes.com/arts
Follow this link. It's better than the yellow brick road.
Grapeshot
Friday, September 01, 2006
Young Couple at Burning Man -2004
Young love on the playa. Look at the sky, the hills and the flat space of the desert. An Adam and Eve for our time.
Burning Man 2004
Taken near the airport
Grapeshot
Burning Man Revisited
It's all about fire and dust and the Black Rock Desert and playa art and body art and the music the wind makes and the pounding techno beat and fire dancing and flame throwers and flowers in the desert and lust and flight and friendship and food and fellowship and geeks painting their toenails and putting on sequined dresses and bridesmaids and faux weddings and more dust and bicycles and city streets and an airport and joining the mile high club and tThe Body Shop peppermint foot balm and booze and sneaking off to the hot springs and catching a ride on an art car and the sunlight and moonlight and daylight and dustlight and sometimes the forty thousand foot wrath of god thunderhead and the light on the desert and the backdrop of mountains and the dust and did I mention the craziness and the margaritas and the porta-potties and piss clear and stay hydrated and proffer gifts and dance and dream and participate and leave no trace and this is all just for starters.
Grapeshot
www.nytimes.com/arts
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