Jun 152013
 

To wit:

1) There is a very distinct difference between writers who write in order to say something true and important; who want to expand the boundaries and reach of our genre; who aspire to greatness (not fame, which is something else), and writers who simply throw shit against the wall and hope that some of it sticks. I believe the term for the second type is hack. There are examples of both  here, as I suspect there are at every con, and the difference is quite distinct, and quite noticeable.

2) I aspire to be the former, not the latter.

3) I am pathologically shy, perhaps in need of a diagnosis and some type of medication, because even standing in line to have a book signed is beyond what I am capable of doing.  Instead of networking, which is presumably what you are supposed to do at these things, I have spent my time studying, quietly squeeing when I see an author I admire, and thinking about work.

3) I love New Orleans and I hope I never have to move so far away that I can’t come back to visit occasionally. Today, between panel sessions, the LOML and I plan to visit museums and bookstores housed in some of the oldest buildings in America. I could just walk around and stare at the architecture all day.

4) Having a supportive and involved partner is monumentally important to being a success in this business. So far the LOML has gone to panels with me, diligently taking notes, made plans for publicizing my work, and has his own schedule of panels lined up today in order to maximize the number of things I can learn here. If I can’t make a panel, he goes in my place and takes notes which he then emails to me. He’s not just my husband, he’s my best friend, and, without him, I would have never done any of this. I know that sounds like a cheeseball Oscar acceptance speech, but I don’t give a shit.

That is all for now.

 

Jun 122013
 

There’s this tiny little garden I’m cultivating, just a small, triangular shaped patch tucked around an odd corner of the house. I call it the Bruise Garden, because everything planted there blooms either black, blue, or purple. I want to make a plaque with the title quote (from George R.R. Martin, as spoken by Arya Stark,  for the curious) and place it front and center. See? Beauty can come from pain. It just has to be cultivated.

What a week to be sick. And by sick I mean, feeling awful because I spent two weeks dodging my synthroid for no good reason, and now my shit is all out of whack. I start out every morning in a caffeine-induced frenzy, and by 2 or 3 every afternoon I’m done. Just…finished. No energy left, nothing left to burn, as even the wallpaper’s long gone. Which is total and complete bullshit, because I’m in the middle of the novel rewrite and I’ve got several short stories to finish before school starts up again in August. Hate being sick. Hate it.

Of course I realize that I’m whining. I realize that others struggle with much worse every day. No one can say I haven’t had my share, however. Go on, I dare ya. Be prepared to sit and listen for a while.

Meanwhile, I force myself to keep working. Every day. Through the rejection letters, the self-doubt, the distraction, the debilitating fatigue. Keep writing.  Even if it’s only a few words.

Also, the World Horror Con is coming in two days. This will be the first vacation the LOML and I have had since…hell, I don’t even know. Something like 2008.  New Orleans is one of my favorite places on the planet, hands down. It’s also my first Con, so I’m hella excited.

Back to work.

 

Mar 152013
 

But we fight for life,
we fight, they say, for breath,
 
so what good are your scribblings?
this–we take them with us
 
beyond death; Mercury, Hermes, Thoth
invented the script, letters, palette;
 
the indicated flute or lyre-notes
on papyrus or parchment
 
are magic, indelibly stamped
on the atmosphere somewhere;
 
forever; remember, O Sword,
you are the younger brother, the latter-born,
 
your Triumph, however exultant,
must one day be over,
 
in the beginning
was the Word.
 
-H.D., from The Walls Do Not Fall

Dec 282012
 

I love thunder, the kind that rattles windows and resonates deep in my bones. It’s proof of our insignificance; that we are, after all, very small players in a much larger story.

Nov 072012
 

I’m not gonna lie – Barack Obama disappointed me on many occasions during his first term; not because he was too liberal, but because, in my opinion, he wasn’t liberal enough. However, given the alternative, I’m glad he won reelection. I know it’s too much to hope that the Republican House will manage to reach across the aisle for the betterment of our country, but at least we won’t be actively moving backwards. A big congrats to Maryland and Maine as well, coming out (as it were) to support everyone’s right to love and marry whomever they want. All in all, a good night for America.