Archive for May, 2009

Just pretend this post came on Thursday, as it should have. 

Did a quick drop in school visit at Farnsworth Elementary two days ago—and no, it didn’t take me the  last two days to recover enough to blog.  Though I admit, speaking to ninety fifth graders who just got out of an assembly was an interesting experience.  I wasn’t aware that they were injecting kids with adrenaline at school events now.  Anyway, for a post-assembly, short notice workshop, not too bad.  We did a little exercise that addresses both descriptive language and revision.  It was a good experience to have before I do dozens of these things with my full, big-time presentation in a few months.

Only reason I did this one, actually, is because of Pat Deinert, a friend of mine who works in the library at Farnsworth.  She, apparently, has been a constant and energetic spokesperson for GDC, and the kids and teachers knew enough about me to ask for a special event to finish off this school year.  (I’ll be going back next school year with the standard assembly presentation.)  I should also thank Deanne Mendez, the fifth grade teacher who actually contacted me about doing the event for her grade.  As part of the event, I donated three books to the school library under the agreement that any child who gets to read them before they are available for sale will write a review.  It’s a good way to get kids writing, at least that’s the plan.  If the kids write any reviews—good, bad, or indifferent—I promised to put them up here.  Come on back to see if a nine year old gives me a half star rating.

Revan and Malak (they never told me which is which, and Revan had forgotten his DARK LORD name tag) let me know that they’ve posted the radio interview I did at CONduit on their web site. Anyone who is interested can listen to it, along with the rest of their live-at-CONduit broadcast, here. They even bill me in the episode description, kind of guest of honor thing. Very nice of them. And don’t let that lower your expectations too mightily, hear me?

In conjunction with this interview—and those that follow—I’d like to play a little game called Who Am I? I’ve heard it said that when you hear yourself on the radio it’s shocking, because you hear your voice the way that everyone else hears you. That made me curious, so I’d like to know who I sound like if I don’t sound like me. If anyone listens to the interview and hears my voice, please tell me who I sound like. Don’t say I sound like me, those who know; I simply won’t stand for it. You may say I sound like Sean Connery, only ex- the Scottish accent and sexier; or James Earl Jones, only thinner and sexier; or Charlize Theron, only bearded and sexier; or even Donald Duck—though in this instance the sexier bit is mandatory. Don’t make too much of this; just when you listen to my interviews, who is the first person that immediately comes to mind when you hear my voice? I’d really like to know. (Here’s fingers crossed for a great suave bass, someone like Gregory Peck—and not Phyllis Diller!)

It’s been a while since I’ve done a substantial post, and, as my part in CONduit is over, I find I have some time on my hands.  As time has become a very valuable commodity in my life, I’ve been thinking about ways to spend this sudden surplus.  I thought about going to a movie, finding a new and unexpected book to read, even taking a nap.  I decided not to take a nap because I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to feel rested and, frankly, don’t care to recall during the next year as I work at the college, write, and promote via two-day weekly tours (which I’m responsible for scheduling myself).  I think it’s a good idea for me to pick up a new book, and I will—only that seems too constructive for my present mood.  When one never has time it creates this ravenous need to be wasteful, at least in this busy body.  So that left seeing a movie but then I remembered seeing Wolverine and that put me off the entire cinematic industry for at least another two weeks.  (For any who couldn’t tell, I hated it.  Loathed may be more appropriate, actually.  Yes, loathed.)

Then it struck me: I’ll do a blog post and generouslly allow others to waste their time reading it!  I feel quite magnanimous at the moment.

So, what is it like to hold your first published book?  I said before that I couldn’t explain it, and now that a few days have passed I don’t feel that has changed, though I’ll give it a go.  The first thing that struck me was a strange sense of appropriateness.  There’s no other way to say it.  It was like, Oh, of course.  I’ve known about the cover for months, and the text for years.  I’ve held other books in the series that possessed the same texture and so on.  So the tangible artifact that is my book struck me as, well, expected.  That isn’t really good or bad; it was just as I anticipated.

Then I thought about everything I’d done in order to hold that utterly expected book in my hand, and everything it had taken to create the expectation.  That’s when I really started to feel something.  And you know, it wasn’t pleasure or joy or celebration, or anything like unto them.  It was relief.  I’d finally reached a point, after all the years and millions of words, where I had something substantial enough that it couldn’t evaporate.  Whether GDC is good or horrible, it’s there and it’s staying, and so won’t be denied.  I finally feel that I have something to say, “You want to evaluate what I’ve done in my life?  There, read that, then you tell me.”  If nothing else, it proves that all this time and effort has resulted in something.

Now to see what impact that something has—great or small, positive or negative.  The question is a little daunting, and I’m eager to start getting answers.

*****

With my part in this year’s CONduit finished, I can say that it was enjoyable and perhaps mildly productive.  I am a touch dissatisfied with my workshop, if only because it was the first time I’ve done this one in an hour form, and I discovered it just isn’t enough time.  I really need at least an hour and a half to give attendees the one-on-one feedback the workshop is designed for.  People came up to me afterward and complimented me on the workshop, so it can’t have been awful, but I wasn’t satisfied with it.  My panels, on the other hand, went pretty well.  It’s always fun to give and take with other writers who really know their stuff, especially with those you’ve come to know and like personally.  Dave Wolverton/Farland was on both panels with me, which was cool because he’s a great writer and a better guy who I’ve gotten to know a bit over the years though we’ve never been on the same panel before.  Jessica Day George was moderator on my panel today, and she’s always a lot of fun—as long as you can keep up with her energy.  Dan Willis, a friend and fellow Dragonlance writer, was on my panel yesterday.  (That was my first time moderating, by the way.  Thought I did okay, but if anyone reading this was there, I’d like your opinion—honest and carefully worded please.)  That was the extent of my events. 

Went to a few other panels, but mostly I did my events and looked to get signed books to the people who really helped GDC come about, namely Stacy Whitman, initial editor for the book (and the brave soul who took a chance on me in the first place); Rebecca Shelley, another writer in the Codices line who first recommended me to Stacy (which took a huge leap of faith); and James Dashner, who was courageous—or foolish—enough to give a cover blurb for the book, and so proved himself a great and perpetually friendly guy, even if he is not a Jane Austin character.  Saw some other old friends, met one or two new ones, talked about Shakespearean super villains, heard Michael Collings make a good case for grammar being fun, met my first Jawa (and I mean a real Jawa, glowing gold eyes and all, which threw a few if us on my last panel; I have met plenty of stormtroopers and even Darth Vader once, but until today no Jawas) and in general enjoyed myself.  If any of you were there, tell me how you enjoyed it.  As always, I welcome comments about my contribution (just please don’t draw arterial blood; a few welts are okay). 

Oh, and yesterday I was interviewed live on Dungeon Crawlers Radio.  The hosts were a couple of Dragonlance fans, so that worked out pretty well.  Anyone interested in the interview should be able to hear it in the upcoming days, as they’ll be posting excerpts from their live coverage on their web site.  Simply check Dungeon Crawlers Radio.  I’ll also post here when I know the interview is up.  

I received the first copies of GDC just today. My first published book. I’m holding one in my hands; it’s tangible, a thing of real, undeniable substance. I would describe what this feels like if I could. Those of you who have published books, no matter how many, must remember that first moment when your work became real in a way never before true. Those who haven’t yet experienced this, you won’t know until you arrive here—which I recommend most heartily. There’s nothing else I can say. If you want to know what this feels like then make it happen. Trust me, it’s worth it.

Learned on Neil Gaiman’s blog that the National Institute of Health is taking comments on their draft of new guidelines on the regulation or banning of stem cell research.  I have opinions on that matter that I won’t share here, but if any of you want to make your voice heard you can do so at this link.  Neil asked people to link to the page from their blogs, and I fail to see how obeying Neil Gaiman can result in any negative karma or bad juju—I also think it’s a debate well worthy of any informed citizen’s voice.

I finally—and I do mean finally—have the study and curriculum guides for Green Dragon Codex available for download on the site.  I wrote these things months ago and, after a unique odyssey of technical malfunction, input from a few kind teachers, erratic editing on my part, and my undue dependence on my friend Thom, they’ve finally arrived home here on the site. 

These educational resources were pretty substantial undertakings.  To put it in perspective, GDC is about 50,000 words; the curriculum guide is over 18,000.  I put the guides together using the reading and writing curriculum of the Granite School District in Salt Lake, so I hope that they prove useful.  Whether they are or not, they’re now available.

Next up are the annotated chapters.  I’ve been looking forward to these because, when I’ve read those of other writers (at least those that are detailed and honest), they’ve been fascinating.  Don’t know if mine will fit that expectation, but I’m going to give it my best.  I’ll include notes on everything from alliteration and sentence level composition choices to where I got ideas in the story to how the book changes throughout different drafts and how I feel about the changes.  For anyone who’s interested in my idiosyncratic writing methodology—and dares brave a glimpse of the madness—it should be interesting.  Or at least diverting.

Oh, and just a heads up: R. D. Henham, my pseudonym/alternate self/replicant version of my editor Nina will be commenting as well.  By now those who read this blog are well aware of my petulance, so you can imagine all the sour grapes and cheap shots I’ll sling Henham’s way.  She—yes, for those who don’t know, my pseudonym is female, despite the gender neutral  name—will then return fire, sending me screaming in a pitch the littlest girl would find pitiful.  Don’t want to miss that.

Just got back from a neighborhood clean up day during which we cut down, rough guesstimate, somewhere between twenty and two-billion trees (among other sundry chores). I myself only took part in bringing down four, though I helped haul at least eight. Trying to remember… it’s strange, but I don’t recall any of the trees actually landing on me. That’s peculiar, as it certainly feels like it.

I note with pride that we didn’t destroy any houses, garages, carports, doghouses, swing sets, fences—not even a flower bed. One monster poplar (the dumb thing snapped one rope and took eight of us to pull away from the fence line) did put a nice trench in the lawn when it cratered to earth. You can then imagine what it was like to haul all the sections of these trees away to dumpsters.

I have decided that I’m quite glad I am not a horse, ox, mule, donkey, camel, llama, or any other beast of burden. Except an elephant. It would have really helped to be an elephant today.

But I am not an elephant, and I am sore, as I am a whiner. So rather than afflict you all with more complaints, I think I’ll soak in the bath for a week. I might even take off these clothes.

Might.

I am posting this frpom my new lapto.  It appears to be in some strange dialect because the keyboard is only 85% as large as a standard keyboard.  I am finding that I—and my fat fingers—really miss that last 15%.  So if I writg something particularly offensive or nonsensical in the next few posts, please give me the benefit of the doubt and assme the fault is on the part of jmy stunted keyboard.  And if you read something mindnumbingly silly… that I probably can’t in good conscience blame on the laptop.

As a single man, I do not believe in most anniversaries.  The five month variety, for example.  It is not just that I find them remarkably silly; I maintain they do not exist. 

Anniversary, according to Websters: “A day or occasion reoccurring on the same date each year as a past event.” 

That “every year” part is the sticker.  So, if we care to be a little literal about this, a five month anniversary makes as little sense as, say, a three week, seven hour, eleven minute and forty-three second anniversary.  (I find this breed of anniversary usually celebrates something like the moment someone texted someone else a message similar to the following: im still grounded and OMG ur a jerk but i luv you so txt me in 4th perd [insert whichever annoying emoticon you desire here].)  Just a hint: If you do decide to celebrate a five month anniversary, do so properly.  I believe the gift required by etiquette for this occasion is a used q-tip.  (How you use it is up to your discretion.)

All that being said, I admit that today is memorable for a duration of five months—it has been five months to the week (and day, as far as I can guess) since Shadow Mountain received a manuscript they requested from me.  When a publisher asks for a full manuscript, it can’t be bad news.  When their standard response time is six to eight weeks and you’ve made it into month six, it’s got to be good news.  So I consider this a memorable day. 

I do not consider it an anniversary.  Rather, I view it as an admirable example of endurance and survival.  Personally, submitting my work sometimes feels like being hung—as time passes I become increasingly breathless but when the climax comes it somehow rarely ends pleasantly.  So today I announce I am breathless but still struggling, and not being dead is worth celebrating (as is not being figuratively dead).       

So don’t mind the purple tint to my face if we happen to cross paths.  I’m holding on for six months and trusting that, this time, there will be a happy end to this hanging.

More than a month ago ForeverTeal asked about how to grow an idea from short story to worthy of a novel. Thanks so much for your patience, Teal. The essay is now available for all members of the site.

So, here’s a reminder that my schedule is now free. In two weeks I will write another essay on any question asked by visitors to this site—if such a question comes. Oh, and if you’re trying to access the essay section of the site but haven’t joined, ignore the golden registration boxes (still working on getting those going) and click here instead.