"Get the water right down to your socks."
Mar. 31st, 2011 01:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Rainy and cold in Providence. Each spring, this actually-late-winter stage seems to last longer and longer. Like a sort of time dilation. I need it to fuck away elsewhere, but Nature does as Nature does. Except, of course, when we break it. Though, even then, it does as it does given a new set of rules, as it always would have done. Regardless, fuck you day of drizzle and clouds. If I don't go out today, I'll not have left the house, for more than three or four minutes on one occasion, in the past twelve days.
Yesterday, I wrote 1,755 words on "Random Notes Before a Fatal Crash," and found THE END. It is a very peculiar story. No surprise there. I'm tempted to spend two days adding footnotes, because they'd certainly fit right in. Then again, it's usually better to leave the reader to puzzle out whatever may not be clear (only too many readers hate to think; they just want "a good read" or "a quick read" or "an easy read"). It's a fine story and I'm pleased with it. Well, it's not so much a story, as journal entries from the final days of a man's life. And the word "random," it should come as no surprise that the use of that word here is a boondoggle. Anyway, when I was done with the story yesterday I realized a very important thing. The sort of very important thing I should have realized long ago. Gobsmacked by the obvious. I've spent at least three years mining my gradual and inexorable mental (and, to a lesser degree, physical) deterioration. And now it's time to stop writing novels like that. Imp and The Drowning Girl, that's the last time I do it. Probably forever. I've sold the most private confessions far too cheaply. Likely, I can't keep these elements out of my short stories, but it'll not find its way into my attempt to write YA. Blue Canary is going to be a creepy, whimsical, adventurous, fun sort of quasi-detective story. If anyone's insane, they'll be safe caricatures. I see people whine about how Kathe Koja gave up the ghost after Kink, how she "lost it" when she started writing YA, to which I can only say – fuck off. I've had enough of this. Howard Hughes is tired of telling the truth.
I forgot, a couple of days back, to mention that I'd been sent copies of Graham Joyce's The Silent Land (courtesy the publisher, Doubleday) and Carrie Ryman's The Forest of Hands and Teeth (courtesy Cassandra Brewtser). They have been added to the Mountain of That Which Must Be Read. Avalanche warnings have been posted.
Yesterday, I wrote 1,755 words on "Random Notes Before a Fatal Crash," and found THE END. It is a very peculiar story. No surprise there. I'm tempted to spend two days adding footnotes, because they'd certainly fit right in. Then again, it's usually better to leave the reader to puzzle out whatever may not be clear (only too many readers hate to think; they just want "a good read" or "a quick read" or "an easy read"). It's a fine story and I'm pleased with it. Well, it's not so much a story, as journal entries from the final days of a man's life. And the word "random," it should come as no surprise that the use of that word here is a boondoggle. Anyway, when I was done with the story yesterday I realized a very important thing. The sort of very important thing I should have realized long ago. Gobsmacked by the obvious. I've spent at least three years mining my gradual and inexorable mental (and, to a lesser degree, physical) deterioration. And now it's time to stop writing novels like that. Imp and The Drowning Girl, that's the last time I do it. Probably forever. I've sold the most private confessions far too cheaply. Likely, I can't keep these elements out of my short stories, but it'll not find its way into my attempt to write YA. Blue Canary is going to be a creepy, whimsical, adventurous, fun sort of quasi-detective story. If anyone's insane, they'll be safe caricatures. I see people whine about how Kathe Koja gave up the ghost after Kink, how she "lost it" when she started writing YA, to which I can only say – fuck off. I've had enough of this. Howard Hughes is tired of telling the truth.
I forgot, a couple of days back, to mention that I'd been sent copies of Graham Joyce's The Silent Land (courtesy the publisher, Doubleday) and Carrie Ryman's The Forest of Hands and Teeth (courtesy Cassandra Brewtser). They have been added to the Mountain of That Which Must Be Read. Avalanche warnings have been posted.
no subject
Date: 2011-03-31 05:23 pm (UTC)I haven't read any of Joyce's recent novels, but The Tooth Fairy is fucking marvellous; have you read it?
I'm not sure if I could face an 'easy read'; I'd like a book to charm or challenge me, or affect me in some way. I guess most 'supermarket novels' are equivalent to ready meals.
I hope that Blue Canary turns out to be fun for *you* to write.
no subject
Date: 2011-03-31 05:25 pm (UTC)but The Tooth Fairy is fucking marvellous; have you read it?
I haven't.
I hope that Blue Canary turns out to be fun for *you* to write.
Same here.
no subject
Date: 2011-04-01 01:48 am (UTC)And that it happily surprises you: "Holy shit, I can do this!" May the stretching of your writing muscles be a little more comfortable than it's often been.
Now I'm wondering, do you know any young people who you especially hope get to read Blue Canary? I don't know if you're acquainted with many youths.
no subject
Date: 2011-04-01 04:23 am (UTC)"Holy shit, I can do this!"
That would be wonderful.
Now I'm wondering, do you know any young people who you especially hope get to read Blue Canary? I don't know if you're acquainted with many youths.
Nope.
no subject
Date: 2011-04-02 02:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-31 07:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-31 10:18 pm (UTC)I'm thrilled by the prospect of imminent death by book avalanche.
Not me.
no subject
Date: 2011-03-31 07:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-31 10:18 pm (UTC)Will do.
no subject
Date: 2011-03-31 10:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-31 10:29 pm (UTC)It's turned to snow - I can't stand it anymore!
Yerp.
no subject
Date: 2011-03-31 11:14 pm (UTC)And it's such a ridiculous statement, it says more about a person's prejudices in regards to YA than about Kathe's writing, which is as wonderful as ever, thank you very much.
no subject
Date: 2011-03-31 11:23 pm (UTC)And it's such a ridiculous statement, it says more about a person's prejudices in regards to YA than about Kathe's writing, which is as wonderful as ever, thank you very much.
Exactly.
Never mind how wasted she must have been after doing The Cipher (née The Funhole) through Kink, published in a very short space of time (1991-1996, I think).
no subject
Date: 2011-04-01 03:48 am (UTC)There’s a sense in which writing is simply scar tissue, the attempt to create a meaningful self out of a compromised one
...and it made me think of your observation regarding "telling the truth."
no subject
Date: 2011-04-01 04:21 am (UTC)There’s a sense in which writing is simply scar tissue, the attempt to create a meaningful self out of a compromised one
I've not read her, but yes. Sometimes. In part.
Am i blue?
Date: 2011-04-01 12:37 am (UTC)=)
Re: Am i blue?
Date: 2011-04-01 12:54 am (UTC)That is a very good idea. Thank you. Perhaps I shall see you there.
Re: Am i blue?
Date: 2011-04-01 03:31 am (UTC)We should do that. And then go over to the natural history museum and visit the bear :)
Re: Am i blue?
Date: 2011-04-01 04:22 am (UTC)And then go over to the natural history museum and visit the bear :)
I love that bear! I want to buy it a red fez!
no subject
Date: 2011-04-01 12:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-01 01:07 am (UTC)I think any YA that you write will be both enjoyable and a challenge.
All my digits are crossed.
no subject
Date: 2011-04-01 04:28 am (UTC)FanGRRL gushing at my age is not attractive but a good friend recommended your work a short time ago and I was intrigued that you also grew up in AL but I had not read any of your books. I'm currently reading Low Red Moon and the part where Deacon is reading Dr. Seuss' McElligot's Pool made me literally laugh out loud as that is the book that began my lifelong love of reading. 2nd grade, Mrs. Oakes class, and I read and reread Seuss, but esp McElligot's Pool, until she pointed me to other books.
I wanted to write and thank you for your work and how it is thought provoking and a pleasure to read. As I've read your blog and follow as you share the blood, sweat, and tears of creating the work it has given me a deeper appreciation of your writing. Silk is still ruminating in my head a little even now.
Okay, embarrassing gush over. I'm hobbling off now to continue reading in Low Red Moon. My best to you and Spooky.
no subject
Date: 2011-04-01 05:54 am (UTC)I'm glad I did some good. And, for what's it's worth, you made my day.
no subject
Date: 2011-04-01 11:15 am (UTC)There are still many readers such as me that enjoy thinking while we read. Most likely it's the reason I read slow. Of course, we seem to be outnumbered by readers who review books and invariably include either "I didn't understand the story" or "the story made me think too much", and the country wonders why we have to search for educated minds overseas.
Whoops, I think I need to attend to Mount Everest.
no subject
Date: 2011-04-01 01:41 pm (UTC)I should really quit pretending I'm going to refrain from collecting more reads until the pile is smaller. The truth of the matter is that it always has and likely always will continue to grow. It seems a to-read list, once started, will take on a life of it's own. ...Maybe I'll give it a name.
no subject
Date: 2011-04-01 02:44 pm (UTC)Seriously.
I mean, FOR REAL.
They can fuck themelves ALL the way off.