Friday, October 15, 2004
Yesterday (that word with which we begin), I sat down to face the second section of the long prologue of Daughter of Hounds, wherein we first meet one of the story's protagonists (she's also an antagonist, for what it's worth) and where the story begins to move ahead in earnest. I was quite entirely terrified. I began the prologue on October 1st and proceeded to take two frelling weeks to get through the first two thousand words or so. But that thing happened, that thing that happens inside me when the story is finally ready to begin. The words came, like water, and I saw the character, and I began to understand her motives and actions and the things that are waiting for her. I wrote 1,052 words, a rainy night in Ipswich, a 1948 Cadillac hearse on its way to a fateful rendezvous. I finished up about 7 p.m., and this morning I'm actually eager to see what happens next. More than almost anything, anything except the need to pay my bills, that's what keeps me writing and why I shy away from outlines: the suspense of waiting to see what happens next. I've never written a prologue so complex as this. Generally, my prologues have been written either to set the novel's mood or to introduce characters. This one is meant to do both those things, but it's also being constructed as a sort of thesis statement for the entire book.
Things could still stall out. In fact, I'm sure they will, sooner or later. But this doesn't feel like a false start, and this novel is at last begun (and for those who find such things interesting, here it is, just four days past the eleventh anniversary of the day I began writing Silk).
And this morning, the first half of the advance for Daughter of Hounds arrived. Other than the fact that we need the money, I'd have preferred that it hadn't. I really detest taking money for unwritten books and novels, to the point that, on more than one occassion, I've asked Bill Schafer at Subterranean Press to wait and pay me after a story is written. I don't need that extra pressure, the knowledge that I owe someone a story, that it has to be written by X date.
Today shall be a busy day. The signature sheets for "Mercury" have just arrived. I expect I shall sign those tomorrow. I have the last set of questions for the Bookslut.com interview to do; they need to be done by Monday. And then there's non-writing stuff. My hair goes back to black today. I'm skipping an Icon of Coil show tonight because there's just too much to be done (and, besides, tonight is Kid Night). Tomorrow, though, is the Dresden Dolls. We found out yesterday that they're doing a free show in the parking lot at Criminal Records (L5P) prior to their evening show at the Echo Lounge. I expect Spooky and I shall be at both.
My thanks to Carol Murray for her e-mail. She writes:
I just wanted to email you to say how much I agree with what you said regarding poverty and the terrible impact it has on everyday life. I work for an anti-poverty organisation in Scotland, specifically relating to low paid work, and one of the most frustrating things we deal with is the attitude that poverty (for the citizens of so-called 'developed' countries at least) is just a minor inconvenience. Those who've never had those worries don't understand how poverty controls and hampers every single area of life. It was nice to see you addressing that fact; thank you.
You're welcome. It's hard to imagine, much less understand or forgive, the atitude that poverty is a "minor inconvenience," especially when it means one does not have access to such basic things as health care, housing, and education, but there's really no accounting for "humanity," is there?
Also, with regard to your feeling that you 'blow out of proportion' the significance of your communication with the reader via novels, I would encourage you to keep on blowing it out of proportion! I'm not an expert on creativity or literary matters, but I have a suspicion that it's this very thing which makes the stories and worlds you create seem like such vast and yet familiar territories; perhaps in trying your very hardest to communicate to us exactly what your vision is, you achieve that particular type of excellence which escapes virtually every other writer in modern times.
I actually blushed when I read that, which is odd as Nebari lack a blush response. Thank you, Carol.
My thanks also to hewet_ka_ptah for her tip regarding lucid dreaming.
Also, we're starting a new round of eBay auctions. Click here.
Last night, I read parts of "Andromeda Among the Stones" in The Mammoth Book of New Terror and found a few annoying typos that made it into print (my bad). I played a couple of hours of Sudeki, which becomes ever more difficult and addictive, and then Spooky read me James Van Pelt's excellent story, "The Long Way Home." And, all that said, it's time to make the frelling doughnuts. I shall close with yet another reminder, nay declaration, that you'd better not miss Farscape: The Peacekeeper Wars this Sunday night at 9 p.m. EST (8 Central; part two to air Monday night) on the otherwise fairly loathsome Sci-Fi Channel. Not no way, not no how. Click the banner below to see the kick-ass (kick-eema) trailer:
Those without access to the SFC will be excused until such time as the DVD is released.
1:24 PM
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