Lilith Saintcrow
Crazy Monkeybrain Crack Dust, AKA, Writer’s Ideas
Well, hello. It’s Wednesday again. First, two announcements!
Yes, this is espresso and Bailey’s in a mug that says “I am going to hex your face off.” After I Tweeted that picture, I was snowed-under with queries about where to buy said mug. I got mine in 2006 from a CafePress shop (the shop’s owner was “lalejandra2″) that has now gone under. At least, I can’t find it. Which led to me putting a version of the mug up in my own shop, with no markup. (Because I feel incredibly uncomfortable with the idea of a profit, however tiny, from it.) It goes without saying that if I find the original seller, I’ll change the links and direct everyone there. But I’ve dug and dug, and can’t find her.
Announcement #2 is kind of vague. Remember that zombie-hunting cowboy trunk novel I was working on? The one I was just delighted with, and was sure would never sell? Well…paint me lilac and call me Conrad, it sold. I can’t give any details, but I can say that I’m sort of…bowled over.
Now that’s taken care of, let’s talk about ideas. (WARNING: I am foulmouthed today. Read at your own risk.)
THE DAMES DISPATCH January 2012
Welcome to our first
Dame News Day!
A Short Collection of Dame Tidbits and Happenings
If you like this post and would like to see us do a monthly or quarterly update, please let us know in the comments. Oh, and if you have ideas for things you’d like us to include in the news, we’d love to hear that too!
RECENTLY FINISHED
Keri Arthur: I’ve just finished the copy edits on DARKNESS DEVOURS, the 3rd Dark Angels book.
Jenna Black: I’ve just finished writing the first draft of REPLICA, my next YA novel.
Rinda Elliott: I’ve just finished writing the proposal for new project.
Jackie Kessler: I’ve recently finished writing the Sekrit Project, which I can’t say any more about. But I hope I can soon!
Karen Mahoney: I’ve just finished the first draft of THE STONE DEMON (3rd and final book of THE IRON WITCH trilogy).
Devon Monk: I just finished revisions on TIN SWIFT, book two in my steampunk series, and the really, really, oh-so-rough draft of MAGIC FOR A PRICE.
Lilith Saintcrow: I just recently finished writing a zombie-killing cowboy trunk novel.
Rachel Vincent: I’ve just finished page proofs on BEFORE I WAKE, the sixth Soul Screamers novel.
ON THE DESK NOW
Toni Andrews: I’m currently writing a long-awaited book to follow up on the Mercy Hollings series.
Keri Arthur: I’m currently reworking an old project called WITH FRIENDS LIKE THESE. It’s a little different from my usual stuff–more humorous, and features elves, trolls, ogres, dwarves and sirens.
Rinda Elliott: I’m currently writing CATALYST, the 3rd novella in The Kithran Regenesis series for Samhain.
Jackie Kessler: I’m currently writing BREATH, which is due March 31. (Gulp.)
Karen Mahoney: I have 3 weeks left to revise FALLING TO ASH (first book in my YA vampire thriller about Moth).
Devon Monk: I’m currently polishing the draft of the ninth Allie Beckstrom book: MAGIC FOR A PRICE.
Lilith Saintcrow: I’m currently writing the second Bannon & Clare book, THE RED PLAGUE AFFAIR.
Rachel Vincent: I’m currently writing OATH BOUND, the third and final book in the Unbound trilogy.
UP NEXT
Keri Arthur: DARKNESS DEVOURS, the 3rd Dark Angels book, comes out in July.
Jenna Black: My book DEADLY DESCENDANT is out in less than 3 months (April 24)
Rinda Elliott: My novella, REPLICANT, is out in March-hopefully. (See snippet of REPLICANT below)
Jackie Kessler: My book LOSS is out in 7 weeks, and I’m not at all terrified. I’m also lying. 
(See snippet of LOSS below) I’m doing a LOSS blog tour in March. Will be giving away LOSS cover posters!
Karen Mahoney: THE WOOD QUEEN (Iron Witch book 2) is released… this month! It sort of snuck up on me. 2nd Feb in the UK and 8th Februay in the US. Look out for giveaways around the interwebs – keep an eye on my personal blog for links to those. I’ll be doing a biggie at The Book Smugglers very soon.
Devon Monk: MAGIC WITHOUT MERCY, book 8 in the Allie Beckstrom series, comes out April 3rd.
Lilith Saintcrow: THE BANDIT KING, the sequel to THE HEDGEWITCH QUEEN comes out June 1st.
Rachel Vincent: SHADOW BOUND is four months from release, and I’ll be posting a sizable excerpt this month!
READING
Keri Arthur: I’m currently listening to the audio book of Matthew Reilly’s SCARECROW AND THE ARMY OF THIEVES (and loving every mad minute of it)
Jenna Black: I’m reading # 3 of my 8 RITA books (i.e., books I am judging for RWA’s RITA contest); I’d tell you the title, but then I’d have to kill you.
Rinda Elliott: I am reading PRINCE OF AIR AND DARKNESS by Jenna Black.
Jackie Kessler: I’m reading an ARC of Heather Brewer’s SOULBOUND, the first book in the Legacy of Tril. Fabulous!
Karen Mahoney: I have just started reading VANISHED by Kat Richardson. It’s the 4th in her Greywalker series (I’m two or three books behind) and I’m loving it already – in this one Harper Blaine goes to London!
Devon Monk: I’m reading an annotated collection of fairytales by Hans Christian Anderson, some Grimm tales, and also THE WHITE ROAD by Lynn Flewelling.
Lilith Saintcrow: I’m reading a lot about Victorian London and Jack the Ripper, as well as about bubonic plague and epidemics.
Rachel Vincent: I just finished reading: CATCHING FIRE and MOCKING JAY by Suzanne Collins.
WATCHING
Keri Arthur: I just ordered the second season of JUSTIFIED from Amazon US and SHERLOCK season 2 from Amazon UK and I’m anxiously waiting the arrival of both!
Jenna Black: I’m watching JUSTIFIED and DEADWOOD, because I’m on a Timonthy Olyphant kick.
Rinda Elliott: I’m watching LOST GIRL, SHAMELESS, and HOUSE OF LIES.
Jackie Kessler: I recently watched the UK version of BEING HUMAN. John Mitchell makes Angelus look like a pansy.
Karen Mahoney: I’m currently watching THE VAMPIRE DIARIES; it’s the third series and I am still really enjoying it. There was no episode last week, though. Boo! I’m also looking forward to the return of THE WALKING DEAD.
Devon Monk: I’ve caught up on all the HAVEN episodes (love!) and am watching DOWNTON ABBEY, BEING HUMAN (UK), and ARCHER.
Lilith Saintcrow: I haven’t had a chance to watch a movie in a very long time, but when I get one, I plan on watching COWBOYS & ALIENS.
LIFE AND OTHER DELIGHTS
Toni Andrews: I am teaching an online class in deep Point of View.
Jenna Black: I’m learning a new Argentine Tango routine for my dance studio’s spring showcase and just finished knitting a pair of wildly colorful striped socks for my husband.
Rinda Elliott: Unfortunately, a lot of my attention lately has been aimed toward recovering from a health issue. But I expect I’ll be at full speed ahead soon!
Jackie Kessler: I’m competing in two tae kwon do tournaments, because I’m training to be a superhero. (Superheroes, apparently, need ice packs. A lot.)
Karen Mahoney: To seal my total geekiness, I just signed up to attend the London Super Comic Con at the end of February – Stan Lee is the guest of honour! Excelsior!
Devon Monk: I’m three weeks into the Couch to 5K running program (or the sweating and swearing program, as I call it), and am finishing off a few knitted gifts I had hoped to have done *months* ago.
Lilith Saintcrow: I’m still running and climbing, and doing a bunch of housecleaning and purging. Spring is right around the corner, plus we’ve had some changes in our household recently, so it’s a good time to get things spruced up.
SNIPPETS
REPLICANT
by Dani Worth*
I wondered if they’d clued in to who I was now. It’s not like I’d kept my life as a Tracker hidden and specializing in hunting down Replicants had given me a reputation I’d earned righteously. Replicants were an alien species that could change form as long as they had the race’s DNA and the form was humanoid.
Taking a couple of steps away, I focused on the foot-tall black and yellow painted squares of the side paths. They held sensors that beeped when hover dollies got too close. I breathed in the fake air and remembered that this wasn’t a homecoming for me, this was a takedown.
“Damn, Jarana, it’s good to see you. And it’s nice of you to raise the temperature of this supply station with that outfit of yours.” Egan winked.
A frown pulled Lux’s dark eyebrows together. “She looks like the Sadistic Mistress of the Clan Ladybug.”
*aka: Rinda Elliott
LOSS
by Jackie Morse Kessler
…At the edge of the park, he sees a white horse. Not a merry-go-round horse, either, but a real live horse, about a million feet tall and so white that it’s like staring at the sun…
Billy blinked and the memory vanished, but the horse remained. Not his horse, no—that horse, the nightmare horse, the one that came with the Ice-Cream Man, was a blinding white, and the one dappled in moonlight outside his house was, if anything, leached of color. It made Billy think of the plant hanging in the kitchen: amid the lush emerald leaves were scattered bits of pale green, the color leaning toward off-white. The horse was the color of those dying leaves.
“Come on,” Death said, approaching the monstrous horse.
Billy’s feet refused to work. He opened his mouth to shout, but his voice died somewhere along the way. He watched Death pull himself atop the horse in an easy motion, watched him adjust the saddle bag that absolutely hadn’t been there a moment ago—for that matter, the saddle hadn’t been there a moment ago—but all Billy could do was stare, horrified, at the pale horse.
“Plenty of room,” Death said cheerfully.
Billy’s voice had betrayed him, but he could still turn his head. He did so, slowly, emphatically if silently saying, No, nuh uh, absolutely not.
The horse grinned at him. He knew that was crazy, because horses don’t grin, but he would have sworn on his life that the thing was actually grinning at him.
“Is there a problem?” asked Death.
Oh yeah. There was a gigantic horse with glowing red eyes and looking like it had maybe drowned standing right there in front of his house. There was a problem, all right.
“It’s my steed,” Death said fondly, giving the creature a pat on its thick neck. “It won’t harm you.”
Billy shook his head once more, and managed to take a step back. The door was flush against his back.
Now Death was gazing at him like he had the word LOSER written on his forehead. In a soft, cold voice, Death said, “What frightens thee, William Ballard?”
Billy thought once more of the Ice-Cream Man’s giant horse, screamingly white and yet somehow dirty, just like the Ice-Cream Man himself, and he heard the Ice-Cream Man tell him that he’s got something to show Billy…
No!
Shuddering, he looked away. No, he wasn’t thinking about the man in white. He wasn’t. That was a nightmare and nothing more.
“Even nightmares have elements of truth,” Death murmured.
Billy shivered again, and this time his voice didn’t fail him as he faced the Pale Rider. “I’m not riding a horse.”
It was a pivotal moment: Billy Ballard, the most bullied kid in school, had chosen to stand his ground. It wasn’t because he thought he could win. He’d reached his breaking point. Death could kill him, and that didn’t matter. There was no way that Billy was getting on that horse. Period.
Silence echoed as Death stared at him, considered him. Judged him. At last, the Pale Rider grinned. “No worries,” he said. “We’ll go the pop culture route instead.”
The horse snorted.
“Don’t be grumpy,” Death chided.
The pale steed snorted again, and then it wasn’t a horse at all but a yellow car, its engine already running. It looked like the love child of a Volkswagen Beetle and a Delorean. Death, in the driver’s seat, leaned his blond head out the window and said, “Well?”
Billy, stunned, said, “Your horse is a Transformer.”
“Technically, a transmogrifier. But hey, whatever floats your boat. Get in.”
Billy got in, pausing only to take in the name on the vanity plate. As he fastened his seat belt—which was purely habitual, because really, was he going to die when Death was driving?—he asked, “Um. What’s ‘Mortis Prime’?”
Death smiled, sighed, and said, “Dude, you’ve got to read the classics.” And with that, he hit the gas.
From Kickass Un-PreRequisite to Rippling Tweakage
Dame Lili
Plus, the Little Prince became, once more, Sir Pewksalot last night. All of which is a roundabout way of saying my temper and nerves are equally frayed, and I decided on a Three Things post because if I start on a rant or two now there will be nothing but a smoking crater left where my computer used to be. (Expensive.) Not to mention with all the biting and snarling going on all over the Internet about Authors Daring To Speak, so to speak, and a rant doesn’t seem like a good idea. For lo, if I strap on my armor now and go all Don Quixote after Idiot Entitled Jerks On The Internet, I may never stop. And I’ve writing to do, so…yeah. Three things. Let’s see.
* Kickass is not a prerequisite. It’s not even a requisite. I swear to God, someday I am going to write about Milquetoast von Constipated, a potbellied, balding vampire with bowel issues who lives in Minnesota and, whenever there is an incident of violence, he *gasp* alerts the authorities! Together with his werecow buddy, Milton Morton (who is not only vegan but gets tipped every full moon), they do not fight crime willingly. Rather, they sort of bumble through and the police take care of things on their own. (As to why he has bowel issues when he’s on a liquid diet, I’ll just say, have you ever tried to live on protein shakes? HAVE YOU?)
Sounds amusing, doesn’t it? But it’s sparked by a frustration of mine: where is it written that I can’t write anything other than kickass leather-clad wiseacres? I mean, I’m very glad people connect with my kickass heroes and heroines, but that isn’t all I write, it isn’t all I am. It isn’t all the world consists of. I dislike it intensely when I write a character whose strength is internal and am immediately subjected to a “but your fans won’t recognize…” Screw that. They will recognize, and those who send me venomous screeds about how I should just stick to writing kickass chicks even though I don’t do so very well (seriously, it’s like the writers of these things all got together in a room somewhere) can just go…fly kites. Yes. Fly kites.
The point of this is: If you’re used to writing one thing, and you want to write another thing, go ahead and do it. You may have to attempt a couple times before you get a salable piece, but it will teach you things about writing that staying in your comfort zone will not. I’m fairly okay at writing angst and violence, but you know what I would really love? I would love to be talented at writing comedy. Comedy is hard effing work, it doesn’t come naturally to me. (Unless it’s bleak black macabre humor. Heh.) It doesn’t stop me from wanting and trying, and from seeking other types of characters and stories to play with. What you’re good at writing and what you want to write may be two different things, but you should try them both.
* The Levenger catalog is pure crack. I mean, their 3X5 cards are incredibly useful while revising or making grocery lists, both things I do at my computer. My bag lust is inflamed every time I see their briefcases. And, oh my God, the desk sets. The desk sets. It’s nice to reward myself with some lovely tools after slogging through a zero draft. I nerd all over their paper, and one day, one day, I will have a Levenger desk. I’ll save my pennies, by God, and I will have it.
Other things I keep within easy reaching distance while I’m writing: a statue of Ganesh writing, some Climb On creme, cell phone, tarot cards (Rider-Waites, for those curious), Moleskine notebook, a couple pads of paper both legal and Levenger, scissors, pens and sharpened pencils, rubber bands, a Keep Calm and Carry On paperweight, two pink plastic flamingos, six dictionaries, two thesauri, two visual dictionaries, assorted other reference works from encyclopedias of military arms to herbals and Jack the Ripper books. Also, two copies of Jane Eyre, plus six or seven DVDs of different treatments of Jane Eyre, and a few Wuthering Heights. (Don’t ask.) Also, tissues, ibuprofen, and Carmex. Because you never can tell.
The flamingos are for practicing dialogue with. (But that’s another blog post.)
* Beware of great ideas. “A million cat clocks! That’s a GREAT idea!” Then some of them started looking a little odd because their tails weren’t moving. And I had to find more batteries. This just goes to show you, great ideas are only great until one gets to the care, feeding, and administrivia involved. (Note: I have six cat clocks, all on my living-room wall. And I want more.)
What does this have to do with writing? Simple. Beware of great ideas. Sometimes they happen halfway through a zero draft, and you either have to go back and alter what you’ve already written to account for the Great Idea, or you just go ahead and write as if the Great Idea has been there all the time, which means the first half of revising the zero draft is likely to send you to the booze cabinet sooner rather than later. Sometimes the Great Ideas happen during revision, and one should be careful because they are like pebbles thrown into a quiet pond. (BOOT TO THE HEAD!) The ripples spread throughout the entire book, which may mean you have to go back and deal with tweaking everything before and after in subtle and overt ways. Rippling tweakage is another thing that will send you to the booze cabinet during revisions. Or to banging your head against a brick wall, whichever is handier. (Also, Rippling Tweakage is my new indie band name.)
Great ideas are great, but there is no Great Idea that fixes everything without a lot of work. If the Idea is Great Enough, the work, while frustrating, is also a process of simplification. If it’s a Mediocre Idea masquerading as Great, or even just a Garden-Variety Idea Of Some Magnitude But Hardly Greatness, well, booze cabinets and brick walls, or whatever coping mechanism works for you, STAT. It doesn’t make the Rippling Tweakage any easier, but it can dull the gnawing pain between your temples somewhat.
…I just looked at that last sentence and cannot believe I typed that. Some days, I really love my job.
Over and out!
The Synchronous Mailbag
Dame Lili
* How do you get your ideas/How do you know if an idea is good enough for a book/What do you do when you don’t have an idea of what to write? (And various permutations thereof.)
I get asked this in spates, usually about every three months. It kind of puzzles me.
Ideas are not the problem. The discipline to sit down and finish something is the problem. Being worried about “not having ideas” is kind of like living in the Pacific Northwest and being worried there isn’t enough mold. If there’s one thing I’ve never had to worry about, it’s a paucity of shiny things to mentally play with. If you’re reading this, you’re a thinking monkey with an actively-producing-ideas few pounds of meat inside your skull; if you want to be a writer, you always have ideas swarming around inside said skull screaming to get out. There are ideas lurking in your kitchen junk drawer, in the face of every passerby, in every daydream or what-if question. Believe me, the there are enough ideas around to keep everyone busy until the sun explodes, and we won’t even have scratched the surface.
How do you know if an idea is “good enough”? Short answer: You don’t. Longer answer: You don’t until you attempt it. After a few years of constantly attempting stories, you can develop a feel for those ideas that have some meat and legs to them, weight and heft and complexity enough for a short story or a novella, or a novel entire, or a series. You also learn, in the course of those attempts, how to scratch below the surface of a story and discover the complexity in even the simplest of ideas. This can only be learned by doing, like so much else in this line of work.
As for “not having an idea of what to write”…I have never understood that. Is that an attempt to resuscitate the old canard of writer’s block? (There’s a cure for that.) Is it saying “I have so many ideas I can’t pick one?” That’s time-wasting, and a way for your Inner Censor to keep you chasing your own tail. Pick one and go. Is it saying “I don’t want to sit down day after day and do the boring typing?” Well, okay, but that defeats the purpose of being a writer, doesn’t it? Writers write. It doesn’t matter what you write, it matters THAT you write, and if you “can’t find” an idea, the problem isn’t with writing or the ideas. The problem is not opening your eyes and seeing the crowd of ideas that’s screaming “PICK ME! OOOH, PICK ME!” You can go to a mall or a casino and people-watch, you can open up your kitchen drawers, you can watch a few random scenes from a movie or listen to some random songs on shuffle. The genesis of story idea is usually a “What if/Why…” question, and getting into the habit of asking yourself “what if” and “why” about things is sort of the magic set of goggles that will allow you to see that invisible crowd.
* I am a new/young writer, do you have any advice?
This is an every-six-months sort of question. I’ll get twenty of them in a row every half-year, usually for summer and winter breaks. I kind of want to do a form letter to send back saying “Yes. And yes. And yes. I can only add: pay attention, and do the work.”
* “How much research do you do?”
Every month I get one of these. Short answer: a LOT. Longer answer: well, everything I read is research, every movie I watch is research, every new song I find is research, every time I cook it’s research. All things feed the work. If you’re asking me how many or how few hours of research go into each book, I can’t tell you.
For example, some of the things I researched for the Valentine series included: leaf springs (for hovers), ballistics, brushing up on human and canine anatomy and physiology, the geography of Prague, the battle of Blackbird Fields, legends of the Nephilim, the Goetia, demonology, friction, strata, relative weight of a dotanuki, ethical systems–and other things, too varied to count. The research ranged from simple questions that were answered in a few minutes by looking something up to month-long binges of reading in a particular subject, strip-mining everything I could lay my hands on. I probably research less than most authors of historical fiction, who go deeply into their chosen era, but I range pretty widely. I’m more a magpie researcher; everything I pick up goes into the storeroom and moulders into a fertile sludge there. Your mileage may vary, but I am (as is pretty evident here) a big believer in creative ferment, and in everything that goes into my head serving some sort of purpose, even if only as ballast.
So there you have it, three questions I’ve received numerous times over the last few weeks. I expect a new crop by the turn of the year…
On Vacations
“Do you ever take a day off?” a health professional asked me today. “Do you ever take a vacation?”
“Not often,” I replied. “I can’t go for very long without writing. It itches under my skin, the words have to get out. It’s physically uncomfortable.”
“But everyone needs some time off.”
“I guess. Sometimes I just look through and tighten what I did the day before. That means I only write about 200 fresh words, sometimes, but it’s tweaking and tightening everything else that scratches the itch.”
“Weekends too?”
“Weekends too. Except then I get up and wander away to spend time with the kids, then come back when they’re done.” I paused. She was looking at me in a most peculiar manner. “I’m not crazy, I just like my job.”
I’m the picture of health, actually, other than some anemia. My pulse is a nice even 60 per minute, my blood pressure is extraordinarily low because of the running, and I’m reasonably fit. The bloodwork says my liver is healthy, for which I give a great deal of credit to that glass of red wine with dinner. (You’ve got to stretch those cells out, keep ‘em flexible.) But all of a sudden she’s looking narrowly at me.
I’m not crazy. I just don’t take a lot of time off. My job is a vacation, for heaven’s sake. Each day I get to do the thing I was designed and built for. It lowers my stress to sit down and write.
I’m between books right now. Kind of. I have some revisions staring at me, but I am coyly refusing to return their gaze. (We’re in the let-the-edit-letter-rest section of revisions.) After the crunch of three books at once earlier in the year (who else was seriously questioning my sanity? OTHER than my writing partner, editor, and agent? Why, that would be ME. Anyway.) I deliberately built a little bit of time into my schedule to decompress. But am I lying about on some tropical beach? Hell no. Sand would get into my laptop.
I’m writing. A trunk novel about zombies, a cowboy, a schoolmarm, and a gold claim. Not to mention vampires and a pawnshop and chartermages. I am having a ball with it. Nobody will ever read it, of course, I don’t think it would ever sell…but I like it. I giggle with glee every time I open the document. I wriggle with joy at a neat turn of phrase. I outright chortle every time I throw another obstacle in the sheriff’s way.
This is a vacation, dammit. And the little dopamine glows I get from, say, a well-turned phrase or the wordcount reached for the day just reinforce it. I get a reward each time I sit down to write. Yeah, some times it’s like chipping hardened cheese out of wooden scrollwork, but there’s even some joy in that. In a job well done and polished at the end of the day.
Slight digression: I advocate daily writing because it builds discipline, not because I happen to get a glow from it. Some professionals can take a few weeks between books, or need to refill the well with time spent away, or days when they’re not dragging the words out into the ring and making them dance. (Isn’t that a lovely mental image.) That’s perfectly okay–one size does not fit all. And yet I advocate daily writing, and will continue to do so, because it’s very easy to mistake laziness or fear for the much more pleasant-sounding “needing some time off” or “vacation.” The professionals who take time off know that it’s hard to get back up onto the horse, and they have their own tips and tricks for doing so. YMMV.
“I hated writing in school,” she said, finally, taping the cotton ball over the bright tear of blood on my inner arm. “Your job sounds like my idea of torture.”
“Likewise.” I grinned. You’re sticking needles in me. I would be unhappy if I had to do that all day. “If I had to do what you do I’d go mad. Well, madder than I already am…”
“I don’t think they’ll commit you just yet,” she laughed.
But I got out of there quickly anyway. You never can tell.
And now, back to scratching the itch…
This Saturday I’m at the Author Faire at C2C books in Battle Ground! Also, check out the Hedgewitch Queen–my first e-only release, and $2.99 in the US for the entire month of December.
