Myth, the Universe, and Everything

Speaking of characters I've fallen in love with lately, there's a great new web series I picked up from a friend* via facebook called The World of Holly Woodlands. Calle, the loveable star, is an out of work actress who doesn't fit the body image Hollywood promotes. But in this world, skinny isn't in: instead, actresses who are "cusha" (or about size 18) are the ideal, which leads to a very different spin on ideas about beauty and body image. There's a two-minute trailer on the site that introduces you to Calle and her blog project; the first ten episodes are also live, which means it's still a good time to catch up without all the back episodes eating your life while you watch. A very cool thing for the series and the actors is that they're finalists in the New Media Film Festival. If you check out the series and like what you see, you can vote for them over at Mingle Media.

I've never been very good at targeting in on the issues behind body image/ideal beauty and the problems these cause to self-esteem. I've tried to write characters with body image issues before and haven't mastered introducing those themes without making them feel like themes. As a reader—and a watcher, I suppose—I usually avoid stories that seem to be about the message rather than about the story. I went to a short play a few years ago that had a very powerful effect on the audience, but it didn't work for me: I felt like I'd been hit over the head with the theme enough that I couldn't care about it. I felt that I'd gotten the point—but had no story to recall as my reward. (Another play by the same playwright, presented at the same performance, didn't have this issue at all—it stemmed from the relationship between two characters, one living and one dead, and the sense of loss and, at the same time, freedom, that came from the one character letting go of the other. So clearly, it wasn't that I just didn't like the writer's style, it was very much about the content of the piece.) So, since I don't like to read "message" stories, I really want to avoid writing them, while at the same time I want to tackle issues that real people struggle with.

I suspect that part of my lack of personal understanding about the body image issue is that, before the past year or so, I felt more or less divorced from my body. My body was a tool, or the thing I lived in, but I didn't much think it related to my understanding of the world, with the exception of self-identifying as short. (Tall people do experience the world differently from us short folk, because size comes with a host of problems for each of us. I can't use our food-processor without a stool, for example, because our counters are too high. A tall friend of mine has to sleep in his bed diagonally, or his feet stick out the bottom end. This is a fundamentally different way of experiencing the world!) In the past two years, however, going through pregnancy and post-partum, I've gained a new appreciation for how much my body impacts my world-view. Maybe this comes from not being in control of what my body was doing—being pregnant was, for me, much like being displaced from my own body, as I had no idea what I could expect from myself on any given day—but I think more of it comes from the fact that I've had to pay more attention to what it has been like to live inside this body. (This is particularly true as I've gotten more involved with women's fitness issues through my training with Dancing thru Pregnancy, since I've been paying close attention to the differences between men's bodies and women's bodies, and how we experience exercise.) My thoughts aren't just out there, floating around my head, they're impacted by a host of factors that I've probably always had to deal with, but never really taken into account. Hunger, tiredness, exercise, diet, hormonal cycle—all of those things have a more noticeable impact on my mood than I'd previously recognized. I was one of those people who'd just forget to eat if she wasn't reminded (not often, but occasionally), because I was too busy thinking about a project I was working on. Now? Forget about it. I don't want to inflict myself on my family when I have the hunger crankies.

Maybe now that I've gained a better idea of living inside my body as an experience, rather than something to be dismissed, I'll be able to look at some of those issues about body image that I've wanted to tackle. In the mean time, I'm comfortable leaving that kind of writing to people like "Calle," who can say a lot by just spinning our current perceptions on their heads.

* My friend is married to the director and creator of the series.

I've decided not to make another entry on how long it's been since I've written an entry. Things have happened, largely in regards to live, and it's been difficult to keep up with all the online things I do. As I answered when a friend of mine asked after my writing and spiritual life yesterday, I often feel the best I can do is just keep up, rather than be a master at any part of my life at the moment. (I've bookmarked a blog entry about writers, time, and kids over at Book View Cafe. I have yet to find a chance to read it.)

But back to the subject: something I've discovered about myself as a writer recently is that when I offer up a piece for critique too early, I lose motivation to work on it. My brain switches gears from writer brain to editor brain, and I start looking at all the things that need to be fixed rather than what needs to happen *next.* Both Blackstone Academy and East Wind are currently suffering from early-critique syndrome.

On the other hand, I don't like to write in a void. I like to know that someone is out there reading what I'm writing and wants to read more. It helps keep me motivated to think that people are hanging on at the end of a chapter waiting to see what happens next.

To synthesize these two things, I decided to create a group that I'm calling my Pep Squad. Their job is to be excited about what I send them (even if they're not). They're so early in the reading process that they're not even alpha-readers -- they're the pre-alpha-readers. I've got a team of four friends who are taking on this role for me, and I've just sent them some pre-writing tonight for a new project I'm tentatively calling Liminals.

I am not giving up on either Blackstone Academy or East Wind -- I'm just trying to find a way to keep myself motivated to write fiction while I'm trying to keep up with everything else that's going on. (I'm not only a columnist at Branford Patch, now, I'm also writing articles! Copyediting is back into full swing! Review gigs just keep on rolling in! So, I'm staying plenty busy with the work life, plus family life, plus karate -- test on Friday next!, plus Mommy Baby exercise and teaching, plus gaming and otherwise socializing with people I like.)

In other news, counting review books, several volumes of Schlock Mercenary, and manuscripts, I've read 49 books so far this year. I'm just slightly proud of that number, given that we're only in month four of the year.

It is not quite warm enough to go to the beach here. Bug and I tried it earlier, and though we played in the kiddy swings for a little while, the wind off of the water made actually playing in the sand too blustery for comfort. No interest in crawling around today! I am getting antsy for the warm weather that makes beach trips more exciting; of course, by the time it gets here, Bug may well be ready to walk around the park on her own.

I should be editing today -- I have two assignments waiting for my attention -- but the shining sun fooled me. Despite the cold, I don't think the wind and sunshine did us any harm.

Over at Beyond Her Book today, publishers, bloggers, librarians, and editors are partying on a tropical island and giving away a bunch of great stuff. Stop by!

You may have heard the news by now: Brian Jacques, author of the Redwall novels, died of a heart attack on February 5th at the age of 71. I was lucky in getting to attend readings by Mr. Jacques three times -- all as a college student and an adult. I asked him to take part in the autobio project back when I was working on it in house, but I think the official letter immediately got handed off to part of his book tour staff and I never heard back from him on that score. It's too bad, because I have a feeling the story of his life -- even told in forty pages -- would have been amazing. He was, as well as a consummate storyteller, an amazingly gifted performer, keeping the audiences at his readings hooked from the youngest to the oldest, telling jokes for kids and alternating them with thinly concealed adult humor.

As a kid, I devoured the books to the extent that, for the summer reading program, our children's librarian got me a copy of Redwall as my participation reward, instead of giving me one of the books from the participation list. She later took my copies of Redwall and Mossflower (which, if memory serves, I bought for myself out of allowance money, back in the days when I had to go to the local book and gift store and make a special order if I wanted a particular book) to a conference at which Mr. Jacques was speaking and got them signed for me. I still have those signed copies.

There have been some nice articles about his life: the one at SLJ and Matt London's at Tor.com in particular. In his memory, today, I thought I'd post a little excerpt from Redwall. Travel well, Mr. Jacques.

--

Strolling through the dappled shade of the orchard, Matthias sought out old Methuselah. Slumping down beneath a damson tree, the young mouse munched away at his lunch. Methuselah was sitting with his back against the tree, his eyes closed in an apparent doze. Without opening them he addressed Matthias. "How goes the practice war, young stavemaster?"

Matthias watched some of the tiny ants carrying off his fallen breadcrumbs as he answered, "As well as possible, Brother Methuselah. And how are your studies coming along?"

Methuselah squinted over the top of his spectacles. "Knowledge is a thing that one cannot have enough of. It is the fruit of wisdom, to be eaten carefully and digested fully, unlike that lunch you are bolting down, little friend."

Matthias set his food to one side. "Tell me, what have you digested lately, old one?"

Methuselah took a sip from Matthias's milk bowl. "Sometimes I think you have a very old head for such a young mouse. What more do you wish to know about Martin the Warrior?"

Matthias looked surprised. "How did you know I was going to ask about Martin?"

Methuselah wrinkled his nose. "How do the bee folk know there is pollen in a flower? Ask away, young one, before I doze off again."

Matthias hesitated a moment, then blurted out, "Brother Methuselah, tell me where Martin lies buried."

The old mouse chuckled drily. "Next you are going to ask me where to find the great sword of the warrior mouse."

"B-but how did you know that?" stammered Matthias.

The ancient gatehouse-keeper shrugged his thin shoulders. "The sword must lie buried with Martin. You would have little use for the dusty bones of a bygone hero. A simple deduction, even for one as old as I am."

"Then you know where the Warrior lies?"

Methuselah shook his head. "That is a thing no creature knows. For many long years now I have puzzled and pored over ancient manuscripts, translating, following hidden trails, always with the same result: nothing. I have even used my gift of tongues, speaking to the bees and others who can go into places too small for us, but always it is the same--rumors, legends and old mouse tales."

"Matthias crumbled more bread for the ants. "Then the Warrior's sword is only a fable?"

Methuselah leaned forward indignantly. "Who said that? Did I?"

"No, but you--"

"Bah! Nothing of the sort, young mouse. Listen carefully to me. I have an uncanny feeling that you may be the one I have been saving this vital piece of information for..."

...and we're back. (As Google Chat would say after being randomly disconnected from the Internet.)

I fully intended to write while I was on holiday last week, but the week was just too busy. It was wonderful to celebrate Christmas with family, both in Connecticut and in Michigan. Overall, things were very good -- I had one minor whoops when I realized that some of the material I needed for "The Town with Five Main Streets" was still in Connecticut and out of my reach, but it ended up working out. When we got home, the whole family went out on a photo-hunting expedition for images to accompany the upcoming articles and had a fantastic time.

Twostripe and I also got to go out together twice over the weekend, which hasn't happened in ages. We saw Harry Potter 7: part one and Spamalot, which was playing at the Schubert. (I'd never been to the Schubert, and I'd never seen Spamalot: both parts of the experience were fantastic, and the actress playing the Lady of the Lake, Caroline Bowman, was amazing. The rest of the cast was also great.)

But one thing that tends to happen when traveling and spending time with family and going to events is that I miss reading time. (I used to be able to read while traveling -- Bug makes that a definite challenge, despite being an *excellent* traveler. She just, understandably, needs attention!) We did finish our read-aloud, Off Armageddon Reef, on the flight home, and I both loved and hated that I called some of the plot points at the end. (I was dreading one character's death, because the character offered the fatal, internal "once this is all over, I'll confess X" decision, and characters sadly never survive that. But Weber made it work regardless, and I loved the book.) So today, along with trying to organize my upcoming assignments (which are, sadly, fewer than I normally have in January), I spent time just reading, which was really helpful in getting centered. I never realize just how much my brain depends on reading-breaks until I go without being able to catch more than a few minutes here and there for awhile. Spending a few hours (during Bug's naps) has been really helpful.

I'm reading an excellent first book in a trilogy: The Poison Throne by Celine Kiernan. I will fully acknowledge that the cover grabbed me on this one, and while the first chapter didn't draw me right in, the book did capture me before my give-up mark (I think I gave it fifty pages, based on the blurb on the cover from Roddy Doyle, who is a fantastic Irish writer). I'm very much enjoying it.

I also actually read a book mostly on my computer today (I finished it on my nook). Background: Simon and Schuster is doing an amazing and wonderful promotional e-reading project called Galley Grab. As a regular reader of Publishers Weekly's online newsletters, I saw the advertisement to be able to grab a few YA galleys and was surprised and delighted to be put on the list to receive the opportunity to read all of their e-released galleys. Of course, I don't have time for that, but it looks like I'll be reading at least a few! The e-books, which you get through Adobe Digital Editions, have DRM that allows you to read them only up until their real release date. So I was going through looking at the books that were about to expire, then looking to see if the books I'd downloaded were actually my thing (several of them weren't), and I got to Cryer's Cross by Lisa McMann, a YA horror novel. The cover did nothing for me, amplifying the horror aspects, which tend not to be my thing (despite all the dark fantasy I read -- yes, I know it's incongruous), and I thought, all right, I'll just read the synopsis, which other ARCs had provided, and I'll delete it. I discovered no synopsis, so I thought, all right, I'll just read the first page. It's told in present tense, which is another strike for me -- I prefer novels told in the past tense. But soon, I discovered I wasn't on the first page any more. I was three chapters in. Pages were just flying by as I got into the story. The main character, Kendall, has OCD, and reading from her perspective as she ends up confronting a haunted desk (obvious to the readers fairly early on, but not to the characters) works brilliantly. The characters feel convincing, and the horror aspect works (though it wasn't too scary for me -- I am less bothered by paranormal villains than, say, serial killers).

At any rate, when Cryer's Cross comes out next month, check it out. It's a very quick read (as evidenced by my starting it this afternoon and finishing it this evening) and, clearly, draws in even readers who don't expect to like it very much.

I got next to nothing done that I'd had on my list to accomplish today.

In the plus column: Awesome substrate meeting! We talked about a new short story by Substrater Vlad -- he originally wrote it in Russian and submitted to us in English in synopsis form, which makes for a really engaging way to talk about a story! -- and discussed "Shotgun Wedding" (which I'll be making some edits to shortly, due to the good conversation) before I had to absent myself from Skype and do real-worldy things. (I missed the discussion on the first two chapters of lyster's new novel, which, like its predecessor, has the appearance of being absolutely fantastic.*)

Someone asked me to post about finding a writing group awhile back, and the truth is, I don't actually have really good advice. I fell into this one almost by chance -- Substrater Nat had an inkling about getting a group together when lyster got back from China and did most of the inviting of folks who, then, I didn't know well and had never read. I invited notadoor, who I'd met briefly at Simon's Rock when I'd gone back on TA prep for one of Mark Vecchio's study abroad courses, and who I'd gotten to know (and admire) via LJ. Most of us write, and are interested in, the same kind of fiction -- F/SF stuff, largely. We write in different areas of the genre, and we bring different opinions as readers to the table. And, this is kind of important -- we all seem to like each other. I don't know if that's critical for a writing group, but I've found it's really important for a gaming group, and I think the two are more similar than might seem obvious at first appearance.

But as far as writing itself goes, I wrote a few new sentences in a review that's due on Monday... Yeah, not exactly an inspiring total. On the other hand, Twostripe and I spent some time reading Off Armageddon Reef by David Weber (it's our family read aloud book right now -- we've done The Hobbit, Unseen Academicals, and, as you may recall, the last two books of "The Dark Is Rising" sequence since Bug was born. Picking grown-up books means that progress is sometimes quite slow. But we kept going ahead in Off Armageddon Reef after Bug fell asleep tonight. I'm hoping she won't notice.) Spending family time together, especially over a good book, was an excellent use of time, despite meaning that I didn't get to check anything off my to-do list.

Tomorrow is a Christmas pageant at church, which I'm excited about, and then perhaps I can be constructive in the afternoon. Here's crossing my fingers!

(Don't forget the Tarot / Greater Trumps contest! And keep getting ready for Alayna Williams on Friday!)

--

*For the record, I don't just build up the Substraters because they're my crit group. Anything that I mention thinking is awesome is because I think it is awesome. (And really, I know from awesome, so you should take my word for it.)

I went to a convention one time where, when a friend sharing the room with several of us woke up, he said, "Can't brain today. I has the dumb." Apparently, he did not make up this phrase, but since he was the first place the rest of us heard it, we attributed it to him.

(Waves @militiajim.)

I had a recharge day today, reading a review book and hanging out with Bug. I have copyediting to tackle, but I spent Saturday cleaning the basement (it oh-so-desperately needed attention) and Sunday writing the first article for a new history column I'll be doing for Patch.com. (The site, Branford Patch, launches the end of the week! I believe my first article goes live on the 22nd -- the column is "The Town with Five Main Streets." You'll see it mentioned here!) I did have a nice break with my friend Leifr on Saturday night, but today I still felt the need to give myself permission to recoup.

And to continue that trend, I'm off to bed. Hopefully, tomorrow I will be good at braining.

How did it get to be Thursday already?

Since Sunday, I've been meaning to post a quick moment-in-the-life, and the week seems to just be flying by. But perhaps the snippet will explain why:

It's Sunday. Bug is not particularly interested in napping, and is rejecting my attempts to get her to sleep. She's acting tired when she's not in her room, but as soon as I leave her for nap time, she's wide awake and would rather be playing. We try this process several times, and I believe she does get a short nap or two over the course of the day, but nothing like her regular schedule.

I offer her an option: she can do my copyediting, and I'll take her nap.

She seems keen on the idea, but Twostripe thinks my editors might not like Bug's idea of copyediting.

--

I did finish up the copyediting (despite Comcast's attempt to make me miss my deadline, but since they did it to everyone on the East Coast, I suppose I can't be too personally affronted). This week we've launched into the final edits on the autobiographical essay project for this batch -- which means xml coding and making sure all the italics get coded in the right places and such. This has been a great bunch of authors to work with (including jeff_duntemann, much to my delight!), and I think my editor will be really pleased with the essays.

And despite the user icon, I'm getting a ton of work done. But I do feel a bit Munch. :)

I wrote the subject of this post, then thought, "Wait, didn't I write something with that title before?" Took me a minute to remember, but yes -- an adventure for Living Forgotten Realms (Cormyr 1-3, to be exact). It's kind of fun to have written enough stuff that's out there in the world (albeit most of it modular adventures) that it takes me a second to place the title.

But that's neither here nor there. The title is intended to reflect what I've been doing lately -- as in, "Keeping my." Things never seem to slow down at Casa Abbott any more, and a couple of unfortunate events -- currently a cold, previously an epic saga I'll explain below -- have made things even more of a kaffuffle than usual. But, hopefully, I'll get back on top of the pile and start feeling just regularly-whelmed instead of over-.

• The saga: Editorial assistant Tollers decided on Sunday the 7th that he was going to go out for an afternoon walk and just forgot to come home. For three days. Monday morning it snowed here on the Shoreline, and we were worried something had happened to him. So, we put out posters and spread the word among local friends. Bug and I wandered out into the woods behind our house whistling for him (the Editorial Assistants are trained to respond to a whistle) and polled the neighbors to see if anyone had seen him. Then, three days later, he showed up at the door, meowing to be let in as though nothing had happened. Whew! We kept him in for a couple of days to remind him where home was, but since then, he's been back out on his regular afternoon walks and has checked in more frequently than usual, as if to say, "I know I worried you. I'm okay. Feed me?"



• I wrote a short story! "Shotgun Wedding" is out on submission for an anthology that will be edited by Matt McElroy, my editor at Flames Rising. Two of my crit buddies (Twostripe and niliphim) said that the biggest problem they had with it was that it ought to be a novel. Considering that it's urban fantasy, and Twostripe doesn't even really like UF, that made me very excited. So, I'm hoping to start a bigger project featuring those characters -- I wrote the short story with the idea that it might be a prequel to an urban fantasy series. While doing research for the story, I came across the Chinese saying "All that is needed is an East Wind" -- I think All We Need Is an East Wind would be a nifty title, so I'm going to use it (or just East Wind) as a place holder for now for the soon-to-be WIP.


• I had a wonderful and too-short visit with my mother, who flew out from Michigan. She reminded me again that the only reason she let me go off to college at sixteen was that I promised I'd develop a way to tesser (I'd planned on going into physics), and I still hadn't fulfilled my part of that bargain.


• The current set of autobiographies is coming to a close, which means I need to get a lot of editing done this week! I've got a fun bunch of writers as usual: I already have edits back from playwright Jean-Claude van Itallie (who teaches about writing and theater, meditation, and healing in the Berkshires, not too far from where I went to college) and friend of the blog Jeff Duntemann (who you should be reading over at jeff_duntemann if you're not already). If all goes well with the editorial process, I'll have five essays in this batch (instead of the usual four), which should be a plus for my in house editor.


• I'm also studying, through a correspondence course, fitness for pregnant and postpartum women, in hopes of a) passing a practicum in early December, and b) teaching for Dancing Thru Pregnancy, the group that I've been taking classes with to get back into shape after having Bug. The material is really fascinating, though I struggle with some of the information, since I never took anatomy in school -- it's a lot of new content to work through. I just need to get on top of the material before my test deadline!


• Lastly: more copyediting. Bread and butter keeps a person from starving, no?

And, of course, I want to keep up with blogging again. I've got a great guest blog coming up from Dylan Birtolo (eyezofwolf), and hopefully there will be some fun news on the Cowboys and Aliens front to share, since word on the street is that there's a movie trailer coming out soon...

I hate to do a link soup after not having posted in awhile, but I just had an article about Halloween costumes go up today at Flames Rising that I wanted to share! You'll see a couple of my favorite costumes posted there (in all my do-it-yourself splendor). I'll add another one here, from two years ago:



I love Halloween.

More fun stuff on the internet? Well, Tor.com is doing a Steampunk series, including this nifty Steampunk timeline. I also encountered a very nifty marketing campaign for a paranormal YA novel, Nightshade, as covered by PW. I've thought about doing something like that -- I set up a facebook page for the Blackstone Academy at one point, which isn't something I'm currently utilizing -- but never with quite the oomph Andrea Cremer's putting into it. I'm tempted to go friend her character on Facebook...

In other news, I love How to Train Your Dragon, and between watching the movie and reading the (very different) book, I think I'm out of my reading funk. I started -- and put down -- four novels last week after reading the first chapter or so. (One of them is a review book to which I have to return.) But HttYD by Cressida Cowell was a quick read, which restored my I-can-read-a-whole-book confidence. I'm in the middle of Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad now, so I can rework some of the references I made in Star Cruisers (which is going well -- I've seen the first five pages of art, and as always, it's astounding to see words become images. Clint's doing an awesome job).

But for now, bed. And tomorrow, maybe more work will get done.