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“How do you know I’m mad?” said Alice. “You must be,” said the Cat, “or you wouldn’t have come here.”

By on August 16, 2012 in words, writing, yonder

Berlin April 10

Catching up on my stored Instapaper* articles, I found a piece describing some of the (often strange and ritualised) ways in which acclaimed writers write.

Having spent the last few months twisting around myself, trying to organise the ideas and plans for my novel without going crazy, wondering if it was normal to spend so much time planning that the actual writing of prose seems to be the thing I do least, sitting at a desk buried in layers of post-its and index cards, writing in notebooks overrun with more arrows and crossings out than words - breathe, Rhian, breathe - to read about Ishiguro’s flow-charts, Mantel’s showers and Atwood’s scribbles has reassured me that I might be sane. Or, rather, normal. For a writer. Maybe.

Sounds like I have the ‘create whichever system/state of chaos you need in order to beckon and then trap your ideas’ part of novel-writing right, so all I need to do now is try not to flinch at the prospect of getting my prose anywhere near the level of those masters.

(Um, yes. I only want to read really bad fiction at the moment, stuff that makes me feel superior. Badly punctuated, excessively descriptive, heavy on the speech tags? Bring it on! Cliched or nonsensical characters in overwrought settings? Yes please! I’ve had to put my Maggie Stiefvater* backlog to one side, as I can’t handle the prettiness right now).

The article is here, and if you enjoy reading about the writing process then I recommend the Paris Review interviews – a fascinating collection of interviews with artists and writers, in several volumes. Volume 1 is my favourite, featuring Hemingway, Capote, Dorothy Parke, Joan Didion and Kurt Vonnegut.

*Instapaper ROCKS. Especially if you’re trying to reduce your time online, but don’t want to miss out on good reading. It’s especially useful for me because it syncs with my Kindle.

When I see something online I want to read, say an article about literary agents or a blog post about female YA writers, I click to send it to Instapaper and then The Magic Instapaper Fairies compile everything I’ve saved and email me a mini-newspaper made up of them.

So, I can give myself five minutes to scan Twitter, send any interesting links to my Instapaper account, wave at my friends and then get back to what I was supposed to be doing offline. The next morning, my Kindle receives a document containing anything I tagged, and I read it on the train. I don’t find myself online for hours reading when I should be writing, but I still get to keep up with interesting articles at a time I choose. LOVE. IT.

*the beginning scene in Linger, when Isabel comes into the bookshop? It slayed me, it was written so well. So much is conveyed without ever being explicit – I had to stomp around the house, loudly Giving Up Writing, before I could pick up either the book or my writing again.

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Are you there, Yahoo? It’s me, Flickr

By on July 19, 2012 in colour, words, yonder

Have fallen back into Flickr this week. I guess it’s an outlet for my snot-brain to get involved in something creative while I’m too ill to write much, even if getting involved simply means looking at other people’s pictures or uploading my old ones of Berlin. I tried to finally watch S2 of The Walking Dead, but I keep dropping off and then spoilering myself  by waking up at the end of an episode. So, the laptop wins over the tv for now. For all that I love Pinterest, Flickr has an edge in terms of showcasing images people have actually created, vs passive pinning, and it’s been fun to hang out there again.

Here’s a collection of some of my recent favourites. Lots of sun and beaches, fancy that.

flickr faves 190712

1. ., 2. Untitled, 3. Nā Mokulua, 4. Lemons & Garage Doors, 5. sweethearts just before the plunge, 6. Burst, 7. Space Sindy, 8. Stewy, 20 SIGNED John Cooper Clarke silkscreen, 9. grand central.

Flickr is where I used to live before Twitter, before Facebook and even before Myspace, and it feels out of place next to those modern belles of the ball. Kinda like that old friend you’ve known since you were 14, the one with no social skills and a terrible haircut, the girl you still love but don’t invite to parties for fear of what she might say.

I wish it had more finesse, options to set up wider filters than ‘friends’, ‘family’ and ‘contacts’- this is one place where the circles which infuriate me on Facebook and G+ could make sense. In many cases I’d rather subscribe to select parts of someone’s stream than their entire output. For example, I might choose to see everything a user tags with ‘film’, ‘beach’ or ‘graffiti’, but skip the photos of their children and their motorbikes.

I like the way casual snapshots sit alongside pro photography, and prefer it to the poncy show-off slickness of 5oopx, it’s just that there are better ways of handling that variety of content and every other social site since manages it better.

The Tumblr interface almost does what I want, in terms of sharing images and following other people’s streams – but it’s too heavy with teens and Manga porn gifs to work as a Flickr replacement. Nowt wrong with teens and Manga porn gifs – man, if Tumblr had been around when I was an adolescent I would have been obsessed with it, and my Plath-Gatsby-JMascis-Kerouac-Nirvana-Suede-badpoetry solipsism would have been a wonder to behold – it’s just not what I’m looking for right now.

C’mon Yahoo, please put some money and some new life into the site, I fail to see what else you have going for you as a company right now.

UPDATE – have just been sent this damning, detailed, depressing article on exactly How Yahoo killed Flickr.  Maybe it really is too late?

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Deerly Beloved

By on July 17, 2012 in words

Well hello there, how are you? I am poorly, full of a cold and full of a tiredness that I totally deserve after a fabulous, fairytale weekend. I have a list of things to write about all queued up on my blog dashboard, stuff like YA dystopian fiction titles, some more bitchin’ playlists, other places I’ve been writing instead of here, posts about tarot cards and, oh, ever so many things. But today is not the day for those things. Today is a day for a picture of deer, taken this weekend while in Devon for a friend’s wedding. Beautiful wedding. Even more beautiful people. It was a day full of love. Aw.

dawlish collage

Rather than take pictures of the bride, or the castle, or the fireworks (!There.Were.Fireworks!) I snapped three men ignoring me (and looking very manly, don’t you think?), some deer from the castle’s deer park, and the train station sign. Dawlish train station backs straight onto the sea, which must make for a very pretty commute on sunny days. Summer being what it is, of course, we had moody clouds instead, but it was still pleasing for a tourist like me.

Devon was gorgeous, and reminded me of the smugglers story I want to write when Novel is finished, something with secret caves and barrels of rum and men with scarred faces but kind hearts. There will be some kind of mystery, and a storm. I can’t imagine writing anything but Novel at the moment, the work to do for this revision seems so endless and engulfing, but I know that someday soon it will be finished and so I keep list of stories to write once I emerge blinking into a post-revision world. Currently the top four items on it are “Smugglers, Sleeping Spies, Dragons, Romany”. I hope my notes still make sense when I refer back to them in a few months – though, some strange combination of all four could be a fun story in itself, don’t you think?

Enough typing – I think the cold medicine is wearing off. I#m going back to bed to watch Veronica Mars (managed three episodes yesterday, and we didn’t get back home until 4pm), eat pizza and trawl etsy for jewelry I can’t afford and maybe one or two things that I can. If you’re in Brighton, please bring me cake. If not, please eat some and think of me. Ooh, and put some clotted cream on top. I’d have photographed my cream tea, but was too busy eating it.

 

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The best kind of problem

By on May 10, 2012 in books, words, writing

I’ve been relatively quiet online recently, because I’m revising my book and it’s totally absorbing*. Right now, at least; I expect a sticky, scary stretch will come along, but I’m not there yet. I bought Holly Lisle’s How To Revise Your Novel course as a Christmas present for myself, and it’s GREAT. Cuts out a lot of flailing by giving me specifics to work on each week, plus the forums are really helpful. These things make me happy. Definitely recommended, if you’re looking to avoid flailing too.

(*plus, my iphone is still broken so I have to actually, like, get up and turn the computer on in order to be online. My laziness often overrides my social-media urge).

My only problem is that other things make me happy, too – especially books by Stacia Kane. Here I am, deep in revision, proud of my swotty, good-girl focus, and along comes a book I know I’m going to drop everything to read - Sacrificial Magic is out in the UK today! I read each of the first three Downside novels in a day and I’m sure this one will be as gripping, and as good. So that’s at least 24 hours of my writing schedule written off, while I catch up with Chess and Terrible.

Even worse,  Bring Up the Bodies is also out today – the sequel to Wolf Hall that I’ve been itching for since I heard it was being written. If I’d noticed when I pre-ordered that they’d both be released at the same time I would have kept my weekend free. Instead I’ve made plans and will have to leave the house and spend time with real people, grr ;-)

Any genre-heads who haven’t heard of these are forgiven for seeing ‘Wolf’ and ‘Bodies’ in the titles and assuming I’m reading horror. Nope – they’re the story of Thomas Cromwell, and Wolf Hall was exactly the kind of well-written masterpiece that puts one off ever trying to write anything at all, because it will never be as good. You know the sort of thing. Disgustingly excellent.

Also, I totally fell for Cromwell.  These aren’t romance novels, but he was so well drawn, so complex and real that I sigh every time I think of him. My poor Thomas.  Sigh. I am so looking forward to spending more time with him.

The only flaw with Wolf Hall was that there were about twenty other characters also called Thomas, who were invariably all in the same scene talking to or about each other, and neither ‘Thomas’ nor ‘he’ were useful signifiers as to who did what. One of the drawbacks of reading on a Kindle is the relative difficulty of flicking back a few pages or referring to the index to see who’s who. Still, better than having to haul a 600 page hardback around, and a useful writing lesson learned – not to give all my characters the same damn name. There, I’m gaining on Hilary Mantel as I write…

I don’t know which book I’m more excited about. The only reason I’m starting Sacrificial Magic first is because it’ll be the quicker read. The Downside books aren’t short, but they are fast-paced and I always inhale them in one or two sittings, whereas Wolf Hall – woah, that was 674 pages, and Bring up the Bodies is 608. Wolf Hall was the first book I ever read on my Kindle, and to be honest I probably wouldn’t have read it if I’d had to lug a book of that size around.

Instead, both of these new books weigh nothing at all (or not?) and were magically delivered to my Kindle by the Amazon fairies overnight, which was thrilling to wake up to, in the same way that eBay purchases always feel like (free) gifts when they arrive.

Back later. Gone reading. X

Source: last.fm via Jenni on Pinterest

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In praise of Fringe’s wardrobe department

By on April 20, 2012 in tv, words

Spoiler status: this post is about Season 4, Episode 18. I don’t think it’s spoiler-y for anyone past episode 2 of this season but YMMV so, please, proceed with caution if you haven’t been watching recently.

There were a couple of moments that led to my favourite scene in this season’s Fringe. First, Walter packing a case to cross to the other side, even though he wasn’t meant to stay for more than a few hours -

[Olivia] Walter, you do realize that we’re just walking through a door.

Then, when the investigation did indeed involve staying for a few days, his acceptance of Faux-livia’s invitation to stay at her place -

[Walter]  I’d appreciate that, thank you. I shall refrain from sleeping naked.

These little moments led to the vision that was Walter, padding through the house in the middle of the night, dressed in a silky, glittery dressing gown which the wardrobe department should totally get a prize for.

You might assume it belongs to Olivia – it is certainly feminine, and he is staying in her house – but it fits him just fine, and he’s a man who’s middle belies his sweet tooth. I very much doubt that a gown belonging to buff Agent Dunham would cover enough of Walter to spare his decency. Or our eyes. No, I’m sure the gown is his, and he packed it himself, and it suits his character so wonderfully that I’m still thinking about it a few days later. It’s a genius detail that reflects something we love about Walter -  how he’ll always chooses pleasure over convention, and usually not realise there was any other choice to make.

I bet it’s a real thrill to be a wardrobe person and come across an item which is perfect for your character. How does it work? Do they get a budget to go shopping specifically for the cast, or do they keep an eye out when shopping for themselves? Like, they’re out buying ordinary things for themselves, maybe a vest or a new pair of jeans, when in the corner of their eye they see it – the perfect gown for brilliant, tragic Walter, or a sexy black jacket that cocky, futuristic Agent Lee would love.

Comparing the doubles is one of my favourite things about this series – I’m always watching to see how the writers and wardrobe differentiate between the characters. It’s more than the ear-pieces that the alternates wear, or the blimps in the sky overhead. It’s more than the classic ‘Rebel wears hair gel, Nerd wears glasses’ trope, though that’s definitely in play. It’s their expressions, the way they walk, how they look at each other. Anna Torv has played at least three different women this season – all Olivia, all different enough that I reckon I could tell them apart just by listening to how they spoke. There must be something there I can steal and use in my writing.

In many ways, Walter is the TV character I’d most like to be. He’s self indulgent, blasting his favourite music from stacked-up speakers with no care for the neighbours, eating whatever he craves, whenever he likes. He’s usually crammed full of psychedelic drugs, while either padding around naked or in slinky robes shot through with shimmer. He’s dearly loved and well respected, indulged by the government because he is a genius. He has a pet cow and he sees Joshua Jackson every day. All of these things would make me very happy indeed.

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Things I have done since I realised I could finish writing my novel in one week

By on April 16, 2012 in words, writing

Cleaned the bathroom, including inside the cupboards

Eaten a whole cake

Finished three knitting projects

Decided it’s important to watch all of The Walking Dead immediately

Decided it’s important to learn how to use the knitting machine I’ve owned for eight years

Googled the lyrics for ‘Reproduction’ from Grease 2

Gone through the 600+ books on my Kindle, organising them into folders and reading all the samples

Listened to all the extras for Shiver by Maggie Stiefvater and wondered if I should learn to play an instrument too

Organised all of my toiletries into separate bags

Read about the difference between bourbon and whisky

Learned how to make an Old Fashioned

Washed four loads of laundry

Pinned 200 pins

Gone to the beach

Watched a whole series of Bones

Replaced the lightbulbs in all the things in the house that needed new lightbulbs

Replaced the batteries in all the things in the house that needed new batteries

Learned how to make bracelets from shoelaces

Updated my blog.

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Fades to Black

By on April 11, 2012 in tv, words

the fades

Oh no – found out that The Fades, a programme I raved about here, has not been commissioned for a second series.  Stupid budget cuts. Stupid BBC.

Apparently it was that or a new series of Being Human. No fair! I don’t watch Being Human (loved the pilot, underwhelmed by first series, will retry someday), but I’m not suggesting it should have been sacrificed for The Fades – I just want more than one genre programme. Too much to ask, huh?

Budget cuts already mean I’m dressed in rags* and can’t afford a pint – now I don’t get decent telly, either? As Den of Geek puts it so nicely, at least “there’s always plenty of Don’t Tell the Bride and Snog, Marry or Avoid to be going on with…”

Grr.

*Luckily, rags suit me. My grunge teen years are finally paying off.

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Short stories, strippers and cookies

By on April 10, 2012 in books, films, tv, words, yonder

This week’s been fun. This week I have been -

Watching: Once Upon A Time

If I could be a fairy-tale character in this programme, I’d be someone who grants wishes in exchange for the things my heart most desires. Then I would demand The Evil Queen’s red, red lipstick, and the forest-y wallpaper the clever set designers used in her house (pic below). I’d also claim Emma Swann’s knee high, lace-up boots and her cool, yellow VW Beetle. Sheriff Graham’s beard (above) and Irish accent are also very pleasing, but I don’t think they’d suit me.

Reading: Creating Short Fiction, by Damon Knight.

Partly because it’s supposed to be amazing, partly because I want to try writing short stories once this novel is done, mostly because I am jealous of Emma who’s been selected to attend Clarion this summer. Not heard of Clarion? It’s a very cool, very prestigious writer’s workshop in San Diego with a ridiculously impressive lineage of tutors and students. Here’s the blurb -

Established in 1968, the Clarion Writers’ Workshop is the oldest workshop of its kind and is widely recognized as a premier proving and training ground for aspiring writers of fantasy and science fiction.

Damon Knight was one of Clarion’s co-founders, and so far the book is as good as I’d heard – very readable, with advice that works for stories of all length, not only short ones. Congrats Emma – I’m sure you’ll have a blast, and I look forward to reading the stories that come out of the workshops.

Laughing at: Jo’s letter’s to Hunger Games characters. I think the one to Finnick is my favourite, or maybe it’s her note to Rue? Read them and giggle.

Magic Mike 2012 Steven Soderbergh Channing Tatum Matt Bomer, Alex Pettyfer William Levy

Waiting Impatiently For: Magic Mike to be released. Steven Soderbergh directs a film about male strippers, featuring Joe Mangienello (a familiar face round here) and the gentlemen pictured above. Jaw-droppingly exciting news, yes? No word yet on a David Holmes soundtrack but that would make me even more excited. It’s not til July though. boo!

I haven’t seen Haywire yet (though I own and love the soundtrack), but that’s out on DVD next month so perhaps it will sate me in the meantime. Don’t think it has any strippers in it, though.

Gorging on Dark Chocolate & Sour Cherry Cookies. Mmm, yes. If I really was that wish-granting character from a fairytale, I’d demand a pack of these as payment as well. Every day.

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Bunyip Terror

By on April 4, 2012 in films, words, writing
Dot and the Kangaroo

Dot: presumably related to Lois from Family Guy

Found a note in my outline today that said ‘make this scene scary like Dot and the Kangaroo‘. That’s my personal shorthand for ‘make this nightmarish and confusing, full of things that will doubtless eat you once you are sufficiently terrified’. *shudders*.

Of course I had to go look the film up on Youtube before I got down to writing – it’s called research, all right?

Here’s a clip which still scares me, to be honest. Is that just because it freaked me out when I was little, or does it give you the fear as well?

Dot was on all the time in our house when I was little. I don’t know why I rewatched a film so often when it scared me witless – maybe when I was little I was better at enjoying being frightened? These days my spooky/horror threshold is way too low to voluntarily watch scary films. Usually it was my little brother who cried at the tv then, flinching from the screen as I forced him to watch Dumbo‘s Pink Elephants on Parade over and over again because I thought it was funny how scared he was. Oops. Sorry baby bro.

Maybe it wasn’t even that I enjoyed the film that much, maybe it was just that thing you did in the ’80s, watch the same video repeatedly, play the same tape again and again. There are albums and films that I can never play now because of the horror of how many times I heard it back then. Does the internet mean that people don’t watch the same things repeatedly like we used to, or does it make it even easier to find (& rewind) the bits you like? The only thing I’ve played over and over again recently is Alcide from True Blood sneaking back into bed (NSFW) with Debbie in S4 (episode 9). God Bless HD.

 

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Sweeney Sparrow

By on March 30, 2012 in words
Nice Life

© Rhian Bowley

Realised this morning that, until today, my brain has always merged Sweeney Todd and Jack the Ripper into the same person. My brain clearly has a compartment for Gory English Murderers from Olden Times and it’s squished them both together. It’s only when I googled Jack before writing this & wondered why wikipedia didn’t refer to the hairdressing that I realised what my brain had done. The internet also says that Sweeney is fictional?! Pshaw. Next thing you know they’ll be saying Jack Sparrow isn’t real, either.

(You know I write fantasy, not history, right?)

Anyway, that’s a roundabout way of saying that I’ve had a great week and it started in Brick Lane, overlooking the spot where Jack (Ripper, not Sparrow) is said to have murdered Elizabeth Stride. That was the view from the flat I stayed at on Saturday, visiting a friend in London. I confess that as soon as she said goodnight and left me on the sofabed I snuck over to the curtains and peered out, imagining Johnny Depp beneath my window, slashing away with those scissor hands of his. Goodnight, Johnny. Please don’t murder me in my sleep.

I survived, and proceeded to eat my bodyweight in street food at the Sunday market – dumplings, kitchoori, ackee & saltfish, ethiopian salad, jamaican goat curry – I was too full for cake afterwards. A personal first.

Our amble along the Thames (kept referring to it as the Taff – whoops) coincided with a blimp flying* past Tower bridge and I thought I was in Fringe’s alternate universe. Yes, I basically spent the weekend pretending imaginary men were real. They do say that travel expands one’s creativity. And that was the point of my trip – to get away from home for a while, then come back all refreshed & write write write.

It worked. I’m writing faster than I ever have before and getting right into the heart of the story. This possibly helped by the death of my iphone last week (I drowned it. whoops. knocked a glass of water onto it in my sleep) – not being able to go on the internet at any moment is definitely good for my focus. Plan is to finish this draft by the end of next week – gulp – wish me luck! Send me words. Lots of words. Not adverbs though, they are Frowned Upon.

(*Do blimps fly? that seems to vigorous a word for their stately fatness).

 

 

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Which Hunger Games character are you? Part II – the girls (Slacker Heroes post)

By on March 28, 2012 in books, reviews, words, yonder

First published at Slacker Heroes.

I’m even more excited about the Hunger Games film now than I was last month. Since my invite to the premiere seems to have gotten lost in the post, I keep replaying the trailers and crying instead. It’s not that I’m sad, it’s just that the book makes me so goddamn emotional, and the same thing’s happening when I watch the preview clips.

I usually avoid movie adaptations, invariably preferring the novel, but something’s got me excited about this one and I think the fast-paced, life-or-death story will really work.  The stakes are high on every page of The Hunger Games, and Suzanne Collins made an art out of twisting the knife a little more with each sequel.

I never knew what was coming next, and I usually couldn’t even tell you what I wanted to happen – Katniss’s choices are heartwrenching, and I liked too many of the characters to choose who should get what they want. One thing’s certain – not everyone will get as far as Happily Ever After, and the film is going to be gripping throughout. Fingers crossed, anyway.

So, after last time’s ‘Which Hunger Games Boy are you?‘ quiz, are you ready for the girls’ turn? While the quiz is tongue in cheek, in truth,  the writing of every one of the female characters in this trilogy massively impressed me. Every one of them is strong in their own way, and that doesn’t meant they are all kick-ass or clever or morally admirable. Whether I’m cheering for the tributes or wincing at the ignorant vanity of the Capitol women, I always believed in that person’s character, motivation, history and right to be the way they are. Bravo.

1) What’s your hair like?

A) Shocking pink (today), artfully arranged with the utmost care. Appearances are extremely important.
B) Kept away from my face in a braid, the way my mother does it if ever I let her get close to me.
C) Thick, dark and girlish.

2. How’s your timekeeping?

A) I can’t bear to be late, and I expect the same high standards from everyone else.
B) I’m often late, after getting held up in the woods or trapped in trees. Who cares, anyway? We’ll all be dead soon.
C) Sometimes I get left behind because I’m so little and quiet, but I move so fast that I can always catch up.

3. It’s payday – let me take you out for a meal. What kind of dinner companion will you be?

A) I have superb table manners and I love to eat the finest delicacies of the Capitol. A little binge-purge behaviour means I can keep eating all night!
B) ‘My mother says I always eat like I’ll never see food again. And I said “I won’t unless I bring it home”. That shut her up.’
C) What, you mean I get a whole meal to myself? I’ve never had this much food before.

4. Guys describe you as

A) Maniacally terrifying.
B) Attractive but hard to reach.
C) Their musical kid sister.

Mostly As

You are Effie Trinket, relentlessly upbeat hostess of the reaping, there to applaud when the tributes are selected and then to escort them to the Capitol. You hope to improve the presentability of your charges, but are most often appalled by the behaviour of District 12′s ill-mannered tributes and their alcoholic mentor. You seem to wear a lot of wigs.

Mostly Bs

You are Katniss Everdeen, District 12′s female tribute. Your determination to survive has kept your family alive since the loss of your father, but can it help you survive the 74th Hunger Games? Your love life is about to get as much attention as your archery skills, much to your annoyance.

Mostly Cs

You are Rue, the tiny but speedy tribute from District 11. You are a valuable ally and loyal friend, and your enemies do wrong to underestimate you. You know a great deal about plants and nature, and you love music most of all.

 

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yawn

By on March 27, 2012 in words

 

yawn

© spencer77

I read an article recently about ‘How To Be Creative’ which said,

Get Groggy.  According to a study published last month, people at their least alert time of day—think of a night person early in the morning—performed far better on various creative puzzles, sometimes improving their success rate by 50%. Grogginess has creative perks.

As anyone who’s lived with me, worked with me or talked to me before noon will tell you, I am not a morning person. But this groggy thing made sense to me. I thought it could be like working in that creative haze I get sometimes, when the words flow and I write cool dream-y stuff without trying. That most often happens when I’ve got a fever, so a way to recreate that without ‘flu sounded like something worth setting the alarm for.

So, I woke up early today and tried to write whilst groggy. Sat at my desk at 7am (which is extremely early for me), without coffee, and tried to blog. Then I tried journalling, then fiction. They all sucked. I suck. Mornings suck. My brain-fingers-keyboard interface needs coffee. To be honest, even with coffee I tend to stay fuzzy til about 2pm.

This post is here to prove that I once tried this – and am therefore excused from trying it ever again. It is now 9am and two hours of writing crap hasn’t been the best start to my day. To the coffee machine! And/or back to bed.

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Recommended resources for writing SF/F? (Mslexia Guest Blog)

By on February 28, 2012 in Mslexia Guest Blogs, words, writing, yonder

Since my last post, some of you have asked for links to useful blogs about writing fantasy/science fiction. Unfortunately, this has made me realise that most of what I read when I started writing is out of date now – no longer updated, or my bookmarks lost from when I changed laptops. Darn.

Recently I’ve been keeping my head down and writing, trying to limit my online reading til this novel is done, so I don’t have as much fresh content to recommend as I’d like. I’ve listed here a few links to some classics and content I still think is relevant, but I’m really writing this to ask what you read.

Which sites or books do you find useful when you’re stuck for what to write, or how to write it? Was there a genre-specific resource that helped when you were starting out?

Or, do you just use the same writing advice non-genre writers would? Is anything extra needed?

Read the full article (including ace Ray Bradbury video and a picture of a Cat Wizard) here.

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Genre is a community, not a ghetto (Mslexia guest blog)

By on February 24, 2012 in Mslexia Guest Blogs, words, writing, yonder

My latest blog about genre-writing is up at Mslexia. Here’s an excerpt – click here for the full read. And I do hope you like the zebra photo. I aim to serve.

No one wants to be pigeonholed. I just want to write books so wonderful that everyone loves them, all over the world. Even people who don’t normally read will adore what I write and praise me. Loudly. You want the same thing, right?

With that in mind, identifying yourself as a genre writer and distinguishing yourself from the mainstream – isn’t that cutting yourself off, selling yourself short?

I don’t think so. Far from being limiting, I have found more support, useful advice and a stronger sense of my writing identity since I defined myself as a fantasy writer. Here’s how it worked for me, and while my references and resources are particularly about Sci-Fi/Fantasy, I hope that some of this will be useful to those writing in other genres, too.

I hope you’ll read the full post here.

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