Last week wasn't great on several levels. With my attention in too many directions and brain dealing with a couple different craptastic situations - mostly work related - I didn't get a whole lot of writing done. Nor did I get any reading in, though I did try to start one book, my head just wasn't up for it. And sleep, not so much either.
Clearly I needed to step back and recharge and that usually calls for some vegetating in front of the tv. Sleep has yet to settle back into a restful event, but I did enjoy not falling asleep to:
Ascension: An odd little scif-fi miniseries about a space ship launched in the 60's heading off on a three generation mission to a new world to colonize. If you enjoyed Tricia Helfer in BSG, she has a similar, though non-imaginary (those were some of my favorite scenes), role here. And the ending was an enjoyable "ah-ha, I see where you were actually going with that" moment. Too bad it never made it to a full series.
The Man in the High Castle: Now eagerly awaiting season 2, this series takes place also in the 60's. It wasn't my choice of themes for this binge viewing period, really. It just happened that way. In an alternate history where the Nazi's didn't lose the war and the US is divided between the Japanese and Germany. Hitler is still alive and is seemingly obsessed with even more alternate history that shows up on mysterious films. Confused as to what is real? Yeah, most of the characters are too. I have not read the book so I'm with them and will have to wait to see where this is going next season.
Dollhouse: In our quest for the next thing to watch, we gave an episode a try. My husband gave this a meh vote. I almost did to. The first episode had a Quantum Leap vibe, where the same actor is going to play a new character every week. I expected more from Joss Whedon, and as much as I enjoy Angel and Buffy snark entertainment, that wasn't what I was looking for. However, I gave the series a couple more episodes on my own to rope me in because: actors. Want to get a dose of actors from BSG, Firefly, and Buffy? Many of them turn up throughout the two seasons of this generally well written show.
After two chaotic weekends (which likely also played into my burned out feeling), I gave myself two days of utter downtime and camped out in my comfy chair, earbuds in, watching two entire seasons in two days. Get your own food, people. I'm on vacation right here. And really, what better show to take a mental vacation with, than a show about people taking a (albeit mostly non-voluntary) vacation from themselves? Okay, so my downtime turned out a lot better than theirs did, but still.
The part I appreciated most about this series was that the first season could have ended without coming back. We got a glimpse into where the show was going. I loved that. So many (specifically sci-fi) shows just drop off the air and you never know where they were headed. Here, I would have been satisfied. I'm glad there was a second season, which also had a terrific ending, but I did truly appreciate that season one finale. More shows should do this rather than leaving disgruntled sci-fi fans in their wake. I'd start a list, but there are so many that annoyed me when they got cancelled with no resolution that I'd just get angry all over again.
And now I suppose I should get back to writing.
Tuesday, March 8, 2016
Wednesday, March 2, 2016
March IWSG
I have a couple of upcoming author events to attend, where I can promote A Broken Race. Interviews have been kept up on, except for reviewing my answers to Ms. Marketing's questions from our last meeting. Yeah, I've got to get on that.
But now, Tuesday evening, I've just received the initial editing overview notes from a prospective publisher of Trust: Book 1 of The Narvan. I'm holding off on any big announcements on that front until I digest these and decide if I want to proceed with a contract should all parties agree to move forward.
I've played the get the contract before the initial notes game before and it wasn't pretty. Lifopoly anyone? I much prefer this order of events.
These notes, I think I can work with for the most part. But as I sit here, having read them over four times, I'm seriously pondering how on earth I'm going to conquer the issue of too many subplots to do them all justice. Yes, there are a lot. I know that. It's a complex story. All of them are necessary to pull the story together at the conclusion and provide the framework for the rest of the series.
The immediate solution that comes to mind would be to divide the first book in two thereby making the plot in each less complex and more leisurely to digest. I do have a rather breakneck pace set because that's the speed at which I like to read.
With the requested addition of areas needing more description and room to follow the suggestion of expounding on the existing subplots, reaching two novels worth of word count isn't an utterly stressful prospect. However, that would create the situation for a cliffhanger ending, because we'd essentially be leaving off in the middle. There is a scene that would lend itself to this purpose, but I
What are your feelings on cliffhangers? Does it drive you to buy the next book or annoy you to the point where you'd never buy anything by that author again?
Please check out posts by other ISWG participants here.
Tuesday, February 16, 2016
Take this. It's free.
I've always been a fish person. Maybe it's a Pisces thing. There's always been an aquarium in my house somewhere.
Angel fish are my favorite. Finicky and violent, but beautiful with their long, flowing fins. I've also done stints with gouramis, tetras of various sorts, and black moors along, with a lot of little fish to round out the tank. Most recently, before the move a year ago, I'd purchased two dime-sized angel fish, one black and one white, and watched as they grew. Unfortunately, they hated one another and only one survived the move to the new house, being in the middle of an arctic freaking winter. Several other smaller fish were also casualties.
With only four surviving fish in my twenty gallon tank, I began to contemplate shutting it down. As much as I do enjoy watching the fish, it's work to keep the tank up with scrubbing the outbreaks of hard red algae, medicating sick fish, trimming of plants, keeping the water level up, and the vacuuming of poo. And well, I've been doing it for a very long time. Maybe it was time to put the tank to rest. What would it be like to sit on the couch and not hear the constant drone of the air pump?
As if it was a sign, the eight inch long pleco that I'd had since it was just a little guy, turned belly up. Green algae overtook the red within a week and the tank really started to look nasty. But it sits right by my dining room table, and I don't like looking at nasty when I eat. So I scrubbed it. The algae returned within a week.
The angel fish died, well, no, to be honest, it was stupid. One of the other remaining small fish had also died, and the angel fish thought it looked like a great meal. Except it was a little too big. So here's my beautiful black angel fish swimming around with half of a dead fish stuck hanging out of it's mouth. I gave it a few hours, but it didn't manage to solve the situation on its own. Again, not what I want to see when I'm eating.
So, taking a deep breath, I reached in and removed the dead fish from the other fish's mouth. Mmmm tasty. But it was a wasted effort. I don't know how long the angel fish had been stuck with it's mouth full before I'd spotted the problem, but the angel fish turned up dead the next day.
Yep, that means one lonely tetra in a twenty gallon tank. To shut it down or clean it up and make a run to the pet store? I debated for a few days. The answer came when my daughter announced she had to go to the pet store to get food for her cockatiel. Well crap, now I'm there anyway. And they had fish on sale.
With ten bucks worth of fish in hand, including a new pleco to deal with the algae, I followed the fish retrieving employee to the counter where he bagged our carefully chosen purchases. There, already sitting on the counter, propped up against a container of rubber bands, was a single guppy in bag.
"What's the story with that fish?" I asked.
"Some lady brought it back. Said it kept having babies."
I peered at the slim guppy through the bag. "They do that. I've had several of them over the years. I even have a baby fish box from when I had that same issue. Never had much luck with the babies though. The other fish always managed to eat them."
"Take this." He handed me the bagged guppy along with the other fish. "It's free."
Happy with a free fish, my daughter and I made our way out into the frigid winter air, and introduced our new fish to their home.
I spent the next few days policing the tank, making sure everyone was behaving and, more importantly still alive. They all seemed to be doing fine. The pleco was doing its job. The gourami and the long-surviving tetra weren't picking on anyone, and the guppy and four long fin zebra danios were fun to watch while we ate. Ah, tank life was good.
Then, as is the way of fish, once the seven day replacement guarantee was up, they started dying. I swear they know when the seven days are up.
"No, Phil, you have to wait to die until tomorrow. Then she can't replace you. No one can replace you, Phil! Just hold on one more day. You can do it!"
One by one, they all died. Except for the guppy. And the tetra. With a whole two fish left and certain this was a sign that I should have just closed the stupid tank down and saved the ten bucks, I decided to still feed them, but otherwise let nature take its course.
Green algae ran rampant. Without me trimming them back, the live plants grew long enough to gather on top of the water and block most of the light from above. In that dark and murky tank, the guppy and the tetra made some sort of fish pact to never die.
Bleary eyed and not really caring anymore, I opened the tank one morning to feed them. What the hell was moving around in the plants? I turned on the aquarium light, not that it helped much. They were everywhere. Baby guppies.
Eyeballs and a tail. I counted about twenty of them. They were in the rocks at the bottom, in the plants at the top, and the silver specks of their tiny stomachs glinting in the murk in between.
Contrary to every other time I've had an explosion of guppies in my tank, the tetra and the mother guppy didn't view this development as a glorious feast. They went about their business of not dying and discerning if the thing in their mouth was poo or food as if nothing had changed.
According to my count, two weeks later, not a single baby guppy has perished. They're all thriving in the filthy tank that I can't clean for fear of sucking up half the babies.
This may be the last round of fish, or maybe it won't if the guppy and the tetra continue their pact. I may never know the silence that is the absence of the air pump. But for now, I'll enjoy peering through the overgrown plants and the green haze to watch the tiny guppies grow in the freedom of the whole tank, where as long as they avoid looking like poo, they'll be left alone to live.
Angel fish are my favorite. Finicky and violent, but beautiful with their long, flowing fins. I've also done stints with gouramis, tetras of various sorts, and black moors along, with a lot of little fish to round out the tank. Most recently, before the move a year ago, I'd purchased two dime-sized angel fish, one black and one white, and watched as they grew. Unfortunately, they hated one another and only one survived the move to the new house, being in the middle of an arctic freaking winter. Several other smaller fish were also casualties.
With only four surviving fish in my twenty gallon tank, I began to contemplate shutting it down. As much as I do enjoy watching the fish, it's work to keep the tank up with scrubbing the outbreaks of hard red algae, medicating sick fish, trimming of plants, keeping the water level up, and the vacuuming of poo. And well, I've been doing it for a very long time. Maybe it was time to put the tank to rest. What would it be like to sit on the couch and not hear the constant drone of the air pump?
As if it was a sign, the eight inch long pleco that I'd had since it was just a little guy, turned belly up. Green algae overtook the red within a week and the tank really started to look nasty. But it sits right by my dining room table, and I don't like looking at nasty when I eat. So I scrubbed it. The algae returned within a week.
The angel fish died, well, no, to be honest, it was stupid. One of the other remaining small fish had also died, and the angel fish thought it looked like a great meal. Except it was a little too big. So here's my beautiful black angel fish swimming around with half of a dead fish stuck hanging out of it's mouth. I gave it a few hours, but it didn't manage to solve the situation on its own. Again, not what I want to see when I'm eating.
So, taking a deep breath, I reached in and removed the dead fish from the other fish's mouth. Mmmm tasty. But it was a wasted effort. I don't know how long the angel fish had been stuck with it's mouth full before I'd spotted the problem, but the angel fish turned up dead the next day.
Yep, that means one lonely tetra in a twenty gallon tank. To shut it down or clean it up and make a run to the pet store? I debated for a few days. The answer came when my daughter announced she had to go to the pet store to get food for her cockatiel. Well crap, now I'm there anyway. And they had fish on sale.
With ten bucks worth of fish in hand, including a new pleco to deal with the algae, I followed the fish retrieving employee to the counter where he bagged our carefully chosen purchases. There, already sitting on the counter, propped up against a container of rubber bands, was a single guppy in bag.
"What's the story with that fish?" I asked.
"Some lady brought it back. Said it kept having babies."
I peered at the slim guppy through the bag. "They do that. I've had several of them over the years. I even have a baby fish box from when I had that same issue. Never had much luck with the babies though. The other fish always managed to eat them."
"Take this." He handed me the bagged guppy along with the other fish. "It's free."
Happy with a free fish, my daughter and I made our way out into the frigid winter air, and introduced our new fish to their home.
I spent the next few days policing the tank, making sure everyone was behaving and, more importantly still alive. They all seemed to be doing fine. The pleco was doing its job. The gourami and the long-surviving tetra weren't picking on anyone, and the guppy and four long fin zebra danios were fun to watch while we ate. Ah, tank life was good.
Then, as is the way of fish, once the seven day replacement guarantee was up, they started dying. I swear they know when the seven days are up.
"No, Phil, you have to wait to die until tomorrow. Then she can't replace you. No one can replace you, Phil! Just hold on one more day. You can do it!"
One by one, they all died. Except for the guppy. And the tetra. With a whole two fish left and certain this was a sign that I should have just closed the stupid tank down and saved the ten bucks, I decided to still feed them, but otherwise let nature take its course.
Green algae ran rampant. Without me trimming them back, the live plants grew long enough to gather on top of the water and block most of the light from above. In that dark and murky tank, the guppy and the tetra made some sort of fish pact to never die.
Bleary eyed and not really caring anymore, I opened the tank one morning to feed them. What the hell was moving around in the plants? I turned on the aquarium light, not that it helped much. They were everywhere. Baby guppies.
Eyeballs and a tail. I counted about twenty of them. They were in the rocks at the bottom, in the plants at the top, and the silver specks of their tiny stomachs glinting in the murk in between.
Contrary to every other time I've had an explosion of guppies in my tank, the tetra and the mother guppy didn't view this development as a glorious feast. They went about their business of not dying and discerning if the thing in their mouth was poo or food as if nothing had changed.
According to my count, two weeks later, not a single baby guppy has perished. They're all thriving in the filthy tank that I can't clean for fear of sucking up half the babies.
This may be the last round of fish, or maybe it won't if the guppy and the tetra continue their pact. I may never know the silence that is the absence of the air pump. But for now, I'll enjoy peering through the overgrown plants and the green haze to watch the tiny guppies grow in the freedom of the whole tank, where as long as they avoid looking like poo, they'll be left alone to live.
Sunday, February 14, 2016
Love and Interviews
Happy day of love, or return of The Walking Dead, depending on your outlook. I'm in favor of the zombies, myself. It's also a love thing. Evenings on the couch with one of our favorite shows is couple time.
While I'm busy writing today, because my characters need love too, stop on over to Madeline Dyer's blog where I talk about A Broken Race and other writerly things. And when you're done there, slid over to Authors Answer were we all talk about writing romance. See, it is all about love today.
I hope you're a showered with roses, chocolates and special meals. Or zombies. Whatever makes you happy.
While I'm busy writing today, because my characters need love too, stop on over to Madeline Dyer's blog where I talk about A Broken Race and other writerly things. And when you're done there, slid over to Authors Answer were we all talk about writing romance. See, it is all about love today.
I hope you're a showered with roses, chocolates and special meals. Or zombies. Whatever makes you happy.
Sunday, February 7, 2016
The Eye Report
It's been another productive couple weeks so time again for anther update on what my eyes have been up to.
I've finally settled on working title for Book 3 of The Narvan: Bound In Blue. That project has been zipping along and is now up to 55K. Only 35K more and then the editing fun begins. Really though, I like the editing stage. I'm looking forward to cleaning this up and making it presentable.
After attending my first meeting with the local writing group, I meet up with Lindsey Winsemius who was just getting ready to release her second novel, Patrician. Which meant I had to catch up on the first novel to appreciate the second one. I made it through Reaper in a day and half, because work. If you're looking for a dystopian fix with some sweet romance, check out her books.
In TV land, we discovered Dark Matter. Okay, so we didn't discover it, that would be bad, but we did find the show and watched the entire season. I love Netflix for enabling my binge tendencies. If you're still mourning the loss of Firefly, this sci-fi show about good bad...maybe bad...trying to be good...violently bad guys (and gals) in a spaceship may just fill the whole in your heart.
Last night we finished the season of Jessica Jones. I did enjoy this show, but there so were so many moments throughout the last few episodes where we both yelled at the television," just kill him already", that it made the end of the season feel more like a relief than resolution.
And now to enjoy some writing time while everyone else is preparing for sportball frenzy.
I've finally settled on working title for Book 3 of The Narvan: Bound In Blue. That project has been zipping along and is now up to 55K. Only 35K more and then the editing fun begins. Really though, I like the editing stage. I'm looking forward to cleaning this up and making it presentable.
After attending my first meeting with the local writing group, I meet up with Lindsey Winsemius who was just getting ready to release her second novel, Patrician. Which meant I had to catch up on the first novel to appreciate the second one. I made it through Reaper in a day and half, because work. If you're looking for a dystopian fix with some sweet romance, check out her books.
In TV land, we discovered Dark Matter. Okay, so we didn't discover it, that would be bad, but we did find the show and watched the entire season. I love Netflix for enabling my binge tendencies. If you're still mourning the loss of Firefly, this sci-fi show about good bad...maybe bad...trying to be good...violently bad guys (and gals) in a spaceship may just fill the whole in your heart.
Last night we finished the season of Jessica Jones. I did enjoy this show, but there so were so many moments throughout the last few episodes where we both yelled at the television," just kill him already", that it made the end of the season feel more like a relief than resolution.
And now to enjoy some writing time while everyone else is preparing for sportball frenzy.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)