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truepennyThe RLS is giving me hell. Ironically and illogically, it seems to be getting worse as I become more mobile. We've just upped the dose of Requip, and hopefully that will improve things SOON, but in the meantime, I'm taking more narcotics than my GP is happy with, and it's actually not knocking the RLS out very effectively anyway.
HULK SMASH.
I am also still in the Hell of the Unreceived Edit Letter, and while I am trying to make constructive use of my time (going through The Goblin Emperor again on my own recognizance to fix the things I know are wrong, getting![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mirrorthaw to poke more holes in my worldbuilding, etc.), it's hard to stay focused, especially when part of my brain is SCREAMING, "Publish or perish! Publish or perish!" and I can't seem to finish a short story to save my goddamn life.
So, it's the first line meme again, this time arranged by estimated closeness to completion, in hopes that it will help me organize this embarrassing plethora of unfinished stories into a list of manageable tasks.
Well, it's worth a try, anyway.
IN PRESS:
"Ashes, Ashes" at All Hallows
"Extract from 'Horror in Pierre Lucerne: Suburbia, Alienation, and the Rejection of Community'" at The Magazine of Speculative Poetry
"Why Do You Linger?" at Subterranean
[just to remind myself that they're out there]
IN SUBMISSION:
Yes! There is one story in submission at this time: "Learning to See Dragons" at Apex Magazine.
IN COLLABORATION:
withmatociquala: An Apprentice to Elves
Tin laced her fingers together across her gravid belly and frowned along her nose at the feeble human child.
[Third wolf book.]
IN PROGRESS:
Shadow Unit: "Hope Is Stronger Than Love"
Everyone had had to bring a brown-bag lunch.
[This isn't part of the list proper, because it's bespoken. But I still have to finish it.]
1. "Hollywood and Vine: A Still Life with Wolves"
Wolves prowl the Sunset Strip. You can tell them by the way their eyes reflect the street lights. You don't get in their cars or follow them down alleys, no matter what they promise. You made that mistake once, and you know just how lucky you are that you came out alive, mostly in one piece, and not infected with anything worse than the clap.
Hollywood has taught you a whole new definition of "lucky."
[This story is essentially finished, except for (a.) the part wherein I need my protagonist to actually protag, and (b.) my sneaking conviction that it's actually embarrassingly bad and therefore should not see the light of day. I need to finish rewriting the climax to give the poor bastard some agency, and then I need to send the fucker out, whether I think it's any good or not.]
2."The Devil in Gaylord's Creek"
We'd been hearing rumors about the Devil being in Gaylord's Creek for days before we got there.
[This story is finished, and has even been out in the marketplace, and I persist in liking it. I need to find a way to get more of the cool shit into the story rather than hiding it away like a squirrel for winter.]
3. "(Un)fallen"
The pain is intense, sharp, and localizes itself gradually, as Vij comes closer to consciousness, into a throbbing knot on the back of ser skull, just behind ser left ear. Se reaches to touch it, groans as that wakes a whole new set of pains through ser left shoulder and arm, and only then wonders why se is corporeal at all.
[I have a draft of this, but it doesn't work. Like Rwanda, the infrastructure's fucked.* I need to figure out how to make the action the characters take commensurate with the problem they face.]
4. "Coyote Gets His Own Back"
Luther shot the coyote bitch on Wednesday. She didn't make a sound, just fell ass over teakettle into the defile, blood blooming across her neck and chest. She was dead--there was no doubt about that, then or later.
[This is the story I cannot sell, because I think it does exactly what it's supposed to, and no editor on the planet agrees with me. I don't know if there's anything to be done about that or not.]
5. "Imposters"
They were pulling out of the parking lot of St. Dymphna's Psychiatric Hospital when the radio crackled into life.
[This story, which is a Ghoul Hunters story, is also finished and also will not sell.]
6. [untitled]
The windship Pellucid heeled over, her sails filling as they caught the wind called the Mariah, one of the winds that blew so steadily across the Abandon that they had been mapped more than a century before: the Mariah, the Medusa, and the Mother of Angels, which had another name among windship crews.
[I have a finished draft at 9,600 words and the strong feeling that something is missing. Also the strong feeling that the story is embarrassingly bad and should not see the light of day. I seem to be suffering from that a lot lately. Note to self: getting dumped by your publisher and forced to change your name to get anyone to touch your pariah-like self is apparently very bad for the ego.
[Further note for the audience at home: there's a reason narcotics are commonly called downers.]
7. "Extract from '"I opened the book and read": Self-Reflexivity and Self-Reinvention in Hôtel Image'"
Within the novel Hôtel Image is the nightclub Hôtel Image, "dark, dubious, deviant" (15), and within the nightclub Hôtel Image is the novel Hôtel Image, prosaically bound in pea-green cloth.
[This is a kind of companion piece to "Extract from 'Horror in Pierre Lucerne: Suburbia, Alienation, and the Rejection of Community,'" which I successfully sold to The Magazine of Speculative Poetry. It's not a poem, but it's not quite anything else, either. Probably I need to see if MSP is interested, since they bought the first one.]
8. [untitled]
RECORD OF DISCOVERY OF FIVE (5) CORPSES
[No title, but most of a plot, and a huge technical problem in how to write the damn thing. Speaking of things that aren't quite poems.]
9. "The Hostage Crisis on the Derelict Mistral Freighter D35-692N-C, Queen of Liverpool"
The Mistral Freighter D35-692N-C, Queen of Liverpool, had been grounded for thirty years, since the successful implementation of Chen and Tiedemann's q-curve drive had made her and all her sisters obsolete.
[I'm not sure I'm ever going to figure out how to write this story. I have two drafts, both egregiously wrong, and no clue how to make it work. This seems to be what my brain thinks science fiction is for.]
10. "The Werewolf Laura Stiles"
Callum pushed back from his desk violently, as if physical distance could get him farther away from the collection of mistakes currently masquerading as the English 201 midterm.
[Finished draft, except (a.) it seems to think it's the first chapter of a novel, and (b.) the plot makes no sense of any kind. And (c.) again with the embarrassingly bad.]
11. Thirdhop Scarp
The current owner of Thirdhop Scarp claims that the name is a contraction of "third hope," but this is etymologically dubious in the extreme; still improbable but far more likely is the local explanation: that if you fall off the escarpment, you reach the bottom in three hops.
[This is the novella that will not die.]
12. The Marriage of True Minds
Sanspiro Base is a company town all the way.
[Another novella. Also science fiction, plus a number of other things. And I'm having trouble with voice, of all the stupid things to have trouble with.]
13. "Doc Holliday Makes a Deal"
I died on November 8, 1887. It was not a pleasant experience. Even less pleasant, however, was finding that death was not a permanent and irrevocable state of being in which a man could lie quiet and be eaten by worms as it pleased them. As it turned out, death was anything but.
[Shorthand here would be Doc Holliday, Demon Hunter. And I'm stuck because I don't know what name the Devil's using.]
14. "The Tale of Two Dead Mice"
Once upon a time, there were two dead mice, white and small and sleek.
[Plot? Hello?]
15. "The Queen in Winter"
There were five queens in the creche. Beulah, Pauline, Camille, Thelma, and Katrina. Beulah was the favorite, and one night after the nurses had gone to bed, the others ganged up on her. There were only four queens after that.
[Ditto.]
16. "The Skyscrapers of Bianch'Elen"
Long ago, in a world none of them can remember, the vampires were taught to dance.
[And ditto.]
17. [untitled]
The woman in my office had been dead for five days when I found her. The smell was unbearable, but the ghost was worse.
[And one more.]
18. The Second Son
On the twenty-fourth of April, Medraut dreamed of Loheris again.
[I know the mystery and the solution to the mystery. I just can't figure out how to write the actual scenes. Also, all the Eliot quotes are going to make this a right bastard to get permissions for, if I ever finish it anyway.]
19. Cormorant Child
With a shriek of protesting metal, the hatch opened, and Mule fell out of the palace-ship into the long grass of the Edrin Valley. He was trying to run before he made it to his feet.
[This is waiting (a.) for me to figure out the SFnal archaeology of the culture, and (b.) for a little more distance from The Goblin Emperor, because I really don't want to write ANOTHER book about the Problem of Kingship just at the moment.]
20. Blue Lace Agate
They hadn't caught the shoggoth larva smuggles yet, but the head of the BPI's southeast hub had other things on his mind: "And, ah, how are you and Sharpton doing, Keller?"
21. "Under Babylon"
Mick Sharpton's howl of outrage--"oh fuck no!"--was clearly audible in the junior agents' office.
22. "Crossing Styx"
"Think of it as a vacation," Jamie suggested. Mick's reply was physically impossible, but very creative.
23. "The Brides of Nyarlathotep"
The Renault case refused to break. Snapshots of the victims had gone up on the corkboard in the briefing room, one by one, and most of the agents in the Bureau of Paranormal Investigations' southeast hub could recite their names by heart: Lydia Renault, age 27; Mary Anne Sumner, age 24; Dale Kelton, age 25; Joella Barber, age 24. And they were waiting, sick and helpless, for number five.
[Mick and Jamie are waiting very patiently for me to get my shit together and tell some stories about them. Sorry, guys.]
24. Black Hart Circle
There were four in the game. Deep play, deeper than the pockets of at least two of them. Lydia Nash might be as collected as a woman choosing a new hat, but Esme Collier and Kori Fletcher were out of their depth, and Fan Carpenter didn't look any too comfortable either.
[I need some external conflict, or at least something for the other characters to be doing.]
25. "The Mercy Seat"
The terrible irony in Katharine Blood's name became apparent in her death.
26. "To Die for Moonlight"/"The Moon Key"
I cut off her head before I buried her.
OR
Queen Titania was dead.
[No working on other Booth stories until "Thirdhop Scarp" is cleared out of the goddamn way.]
27. "The Bone Jesus"
[Not sure I've got the right approach to this one, so original first line withdrawn.]
28. "The Kitsune's Tragedy"
My mother was kitsune. When I was born kitsune, too, she cursed the fates and slew the midwife and raised me as a daughter.
[I'd love to figure out how to make this one work, but so far, no dice.]
29. The Sidhetown Tigers
Jefferson Finch was a lousy pitcher, but he was the best we had.
[Emphatically ditto. I have the characters and the plot, but I cannot for the life of me get the world to make sense.]
30. [untitled]
It was noon before the new wheeler said anything to me.
[Talking horses! Eeee! But Draco and Hennessey have the second half of their plot, and nothing for the beginning. And I have no idea how to make their world plausible.]
31. [untitled]
When a full-bird Colonel of the Interstellar Military Corps, Medical Division, tells you that you're a miracle, you believe her.
[Another science fiction story. This one seems determined to be a bait-and-switch, and I don't know if I can pull it off.]
32. [untitled]
The crime-scene tape was gone from the basketball court.
[The problem with mysteries is, they have to have plots before you write them.]
33. [untitled]
"What are you doing, sister-wife?"
[Talking lions. But they have no plot at all. Nothing, actually, but this line.]
And this handful of novels, one of which should probably be my next book:
34. [untitled]
The Emperor's head hit the floor with a wet thud. The body stayed upright a moment longer, and then simply collapsed; the blood jetting out of its neck soaked Moth through before he could think to move.
[This is the walking-back-from-Mordor story.]
35. The House at the End of the World
When Sebastian Marlin became a man, there was no one to celebrate with.
[FtM transsexual becomes his father's seventh son. All hell breaks loose.]
36. The White Devil
Since I was a little girl, I've always told my father my dreams. Except for one.
[The White Devil crossed with Tam Lin (bothpameladean's novel and the ballad) and Donna Tartt's The Secret History and done as Southern Gothic]
37. Dark Sister
Nephael cannot remember Heaven.
[Insanely ambitious project about an AU America in which, when the Puritans reach America, they discover angels (and devils) are real.]
38. Schrödinger's Parable of the Cat
Denise Blumenthal died on a beautiful spring morning in the polity of Greater Manhattan.
[Alternate universes; Lovecraftian science fiction; god knows what all]
---
*That's an Eddie Izzard quote, for those of you who don't recognize it.
And now I'm going to walk to the pharmacy for the first time since I broke my ankle. Viva l'independence!
HULK SMASH.
I am also still in the Hell of the Unreceived Edit Letter, and while I am trying to make constructive use of my time (going through The Goblin Emperor again on my own recognizance to fix the things I know are wrong, getting
mirrorthaw to poke more holes in my worldbuilding, etc.), it's hard to stay focused, especially when part of my brain is SCREAMING, "Publish or perish! Publish or perish!" and I can't seem to finish a short story to save my goddamn life.So, it's the first line meme again, this time arranged by estimated closeness to completion, in hopes that it will help me organize this embarrassing plethora of unfinished stories into a list of manageable tasks.
Well, it's worth a try, anyway.
IN PRESS:
"Ashes, Ashes" at All Hallows
"Extract from 'Horror in Pierre Lucerne: Suburbia, Alienation, and the Rejection of Community'" at The Magazine of Speculative Poetry
"Why Do You Linger?" at Subterranean
[just to remind myself that they're out there]
IN SUBMISSION:
Yes! There is one story in submission at this time: "Learning to See Dragons" at Apex Magazine.
IN COLLABORATION:
with
matociquala: An Apprentice to ElvesTin laced her fingers together across her gravid belly and frowned along her nose at the feeble human child.
[Third wolf book.]
IN PROGRESS:
Shadow Unit: "Hope Is Stronger Than Love"
Everyone had had to bring a brown-bag lunch.
[This isn't part of the list proper, because it's bespoken. But I still have to finish it.]
1. "Hollywood and Vine: A Still Life with Wolves"
Wolves prowl the Sunset Strip. You can tell them by the way their eyes reflect the street lights. You don't get in their cars or follow them down alleys, no matter what they promise. You made that mistake once, and you know just how lucky you are that you came out alive, mostly in one piece, and not infected with anything worse than the clap.
Hollywood has taught you a whole new definition of "lucky."
[This story is essentially finished, except for (a.) the part wherein I need my protagonist to actually protag, and (b.) my sneaking conviction that it's actually embarrassingly bad and therefore should not see the light of day. I need to finish rewriting the climax to give the poor bastard some agency, and then I need to send the fucker out, whether I think it's any good or not.]
2."The Devil in Gaylord's Creek"
We'd been hearing rumors about the Devil being in Gaylord's Creek for days before we got there.
[This story is finished, and has even been out in the marketplace, and I persist in liking it. I need to find a way to get more of the cool shit into the story rather than hiding it away like a squirrel for winter.]
3. "(Un)fallen"
The pain is intense, sharp, and localizes itself gradually, as Vij comes closer to consciousness, into a throbbing knot on the back of ser skull, just behind ser left ear. Se reaches to touch it, groans as that wakes a whole new set of pains through ser left shoulder and arm, and only then wonders why se is corporeal at all.
[I have a draft of this, but it doesn't work. Like Rwanda, the infrastructure's fucked.* I need to figure out how to make the action the characters take commensurate with the problem they face.]
4. "Coyote Gets His Own Back"
Luther shot the coyote bitch on Wednesday. She didn't make a sound, just fell ass over teakettle into the defile, blood blooming across her neck and chest. She was dead--there was no doubt about that, then or later.
[This is the story I cannot sell, because I think it does exactly what it's supposed to, and no editor on the planet agrees with me. I don't know if there's anything to be done about that or not.]
5. "Imposters"
They were pulling out of the parking lot of St. Dymphna's Psychiatric Hospital when the radio crackled into life.
[This story, which is a Ghoul Hunters story, is also finished and also will not sell.]
6. [untitled]
The windship Pellucid heeled over, her sails filling as they caught the wind called the Mariah, one of the winds that blew so steadily across the Abandon that they had been mapped more than a century before: the Mariah, the Medusa, and the Mother of Angels, which had another name among windship crews.
[I have a finished draft at 9,600 words and the strong feeling that something is missing. Also the strong feeling that the story is embarrassingly bad and should not see the light of day. I seem to be suffering from that a lot lately. Note to self: getting dumped by your publisher and forced to change your name to get anyone to touch your pariah-like self is apparently very bad for the ego.
[Further note for the audience at home: there's a reason narcotics are commonly called downers.]
7. "Extract from '"I opened the book and read": Self-Reflexivity and Self-Reinvention in Hôtel Image'"
Within the novel Hôtel Image is the nightclub Hôtel Image, "dark, dubious, deviant" (15), and within the nightclub Hôtel Image is the novel Hôtel Image, prosaically bound in pea-green cloth.
[This is a kind of companion piece to "Extract from 'Horror in Pierre Lucerne: Suburbia, Alienation, and the Rejection of Community,'" which I successfully sold to The Magazine of Speculative Poetry. It's not a poem, but it's not quite anything else, either. Probably I need to see if MSP is interested, since they bought the first one.]
8. [untitled]
RECORD OF DISCOVERY OF FIVE (5) CORPSES
[No title, but most of a plot, and a huge technical problem in how to write the damn thing. Speaking of things that aren't quite poems.]
9. "The Hostage Crisis on the Derelict Mistral Freighter D35-692N-C, Queen of Liverpool"
The Mistral Freighter D35-692N-C, Queen of Liverpool, had been grounded for thirty years, since the successful implementation of Chen and Tiedemann's q-curve drive had made her and all her sisters obsolete.
[I'm not sure I'm ever going to figure out how to write this story. I have two drafts, both egregiously wrong, and no clue how to make it work. This seems to be what my brain thinks science fiction is for.]
10. "The Werewolf Laura Stiles"
Callum pushed back from his desk violently, as if physical distance could get him farther away from the collection of mistakes currently masquerading as the English 201 midterm.
[Finished draft, except (a.) it seems to think it's the first chapter of a novel, and (b.) the plot makes no sense of any kind. And (c.) again with the embarrassingly bad.]
11. Thirdhop Scarp
The current owner of Thirdhop Scarp claims that the name is a contraction of "third hope," but this is etymologically dubious in the extreme; still improbable but far more likely is the local explanation: that if you fall off the escarpment, you reach the bottom in three hops.
[This is the novella that will not die.]
12. The Marriage of True Minds
Sanspiro Base is a company town all the way.
[Another novella. Also science fiction, plus a number of other things. And I'm having trouble with voice, of all the stupid things to have trouble with.]
13. "Doc Holliday Makes a Deal"
I died on November 8, 1887. It was not a pleasant experience. Even less pleasant, however, was finding that death was not a permanent and irrevocable state of being in which a man could lie quiet and be eaten by worms as it pleased them. As it turned out, death was anything but.
[Shorthand here would be Doc Holliday, Demon Hunter. And I'm stuck because I don't know what name the Devil's using.]
14. "The Tale of Two Dead Mice"
Once upon a time, there were two dead mice, white and small and sleek.
[Plot? Hello?]
15. "The Queen in Winter"
There were five queens in the creche. Beulah, Pauline, Camille, Thelma, and Katrina. Beulah was the favorite, and one night after the nurses had gone to bed, the others ganged up on her. There were only four queens after that.
[Ditto.]
16. "The Skyscrapers of Bianch'Elen"
Long ago, in a world none of them can remember, the vampires were taught to dance.
[And ditto.]
17. [untitled]
The woman in my office had been dead for five days when I found her. The smell was unbearable, but the ghost was worse.
[And one more.]
18. The Second Son
On the twenty-fourth of April, Medraut dreamed of Loheris again.
[I know the mystery and the solution to the mystery. I just can't figure out how to write the actual scenes. Also, all the Eliot quotes are going to make this a right bastard to get permissions for, if I ever finish it anyway.]
19. Cormorant Child
With a shriek of protesting metal, the hatch opened, and Mule fell out of the palace-ship into the long grass of the Edrin Valley. He was trying to run before he made it to his feet.
[This is waiting (a.) for me to figure out the SFnal archaeology of the culture, and (b.) for a little more distance from The Goblin Emperor, because I really don't want to write ANOTHER book about the Problem of Kingship just at the moment.]
20. Blue Lace Agate
They hadn't caught the shoggoth larva smuggles yet, but the head of the BPI's southeast hub had other things on his mind: "And, ah, how are you and Sharpton doing, Keller?"
21. "Under Babylon"
Mick Sharpton's howl of outrage--"oh fuck no!"--was clearly audible in the junior agents' office.
22. "Crossing Styx"
"Think of it as a vacation," Jamie suggested. Mick's reply was physically impossible, but very creative.
23. "The Brides of Nyarlathotep"
The Renault case refused to break. Snapshots of the victims had gone up on the corkboard in the briefing room, one by one, and most of the agents in the Bureau of Paranormal Investigations' southeast hub could recite their names by heart: Lydia Renault, age 27; Mary Anne Sumner, age 24; Dale Kelton, age 25; Joella Barber, age 24. And they were waiting, sick and helpless, for number five.
[Mick and Jamie are waiting very patiently for me to get my shit together and tell some stories about them. Sorry, guys.]
24. Black Hart Circle
There were four in the game. Deep play, deeper than the pockets of at least two of them. Lydia Nash might be as collected as a woman choosing a new hat, but Esme Collier and Kori Fletcher were out of their depth, and Fan Carpenter didn't look any too comfortable either.
[I need some external conflict, or at least something for the other characters to be doing.]
25. "The Mercy Seat"
The terrible irony in Katharine Blood's name became apparent in her death.
26. "To Die for Moonlight"/"The Moon Key"
I cut off her head before I buried her.
OR
Queen Titania was dead.
[No working on other Booth stories until "Thirdhop Scarp" is cleared out of the goddamn way.]
27. "The Bone Jesus"
[Not sure I've got the right approach to this one, so original first line withdrawn.]
28. "The Kitsune's Tragedy"
My mother was kitsune. When I was born kitsune, too, she cursed the fates and slew the midwife and raised me as a daughter.
[I'd love to figure out how to make this one work, but so far, no dice.]
29. The Sidhetown Tigers
Jefferson Finch was a lousy pitcher, but he was the best we had.
[Emphatically ditto. I have the characters and the plot, but I cannot for the life of me get the world to make sense.]
30. [untitled]
It was noon before the new wheeler said anything to me.
[Talking horses! Eeee! But Draco and Hennessey have the second half of their plot, and nothing for the beginning. And I have no idea how to make their world plausible.]
31. [untitled]
When a full-bird Colonel of the Interstellar Military Corps, Medical Division, tells you that you're a miracle, you believe her.
[Another science fiction story. This one seems determined to be a bait-and-switch, and I don't know if I can pull it off.]
32. [untitled]
The crime-scene tape was gone from the basketball court.
[The problem with mysteries is, they have to have plots before you write them.]
33. [untitled]
"What are you doing, sister-wife?"
[Talking lions. But they have no plot at all. Nothing, actually, but this line.]
And this handful of novels, one of which should probably be my next book:
34. [untitled]
The Emperor's head hit the floor with a wet thud. The body stayed upright a moment longer, and then simply collapsed; the blood jetting out of its neck soaked Moth through before he could think to move.
[This is the walking-back-from-Mordor story.]
35. The House at the End of the World
When Sebastian Marlin became a man, there was no one to celebrate with.
[FtM transsexual becomes his father's seventh son. All hell breaks loose.]
36. The White Devil
Since I was a little girl, I've always told my father my dreams. Except for one.
[The White Devil crossed with Tam Lin (both
pameladean's novel and the ballad) and Donna Tartt's The Secret History and done as Southern Gothic]37. Dark Sister
Nephael cannot remember Heaven.
[Insanely ambitious project about an AU America in which, when the Puritans reach America, they discover angels (and devils) are real.]
38. Schrödinger's Parable of the Cat
Denise Blumenthal died on a beautiful spring morning in the polity of Greater Manhattan.
[Alternate universes; Lovecraftian science fiction; god knows what all]
---
*That's an Eddie Izzard quote, for those of you who don't recognize it.
And now I'm going to walk to the pharmacy for the first time since I broke my ankle. Viva l'independence!
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-10-19 07:42 pm (UTC)1) Is massage something that might help at all with the RLS? I don't know how much of the problem arises from muscular causes, and how much from nerves, but it came to mind. And since I'm over here cringing in sympathy for what you're going through, I figured I might as well mention it, and see if you've already tried that route.
2) What do you think you're likely to do with "Coyote Gets His Own Back" and "Imposters" and stories of that sort? Hang on to them until the right editor comes along? Toss them up online as freebies for your fans? Something else entirely?
no subject
Date: 2010-10-19 07:59 pm (UTC)2. I don't know. I keep hoping in Pollyanna-ish fashion that someone will buy them. I'm also hoping to put together a short story collection soon, and I might see if I can persuade the editor to let me include them.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-19 08:12 pm (UTC)Stories: at least I'm not the only Pollyanna out there. (I've got a few stories of my own in a similar camp, which is why I asked -- well, that and I like your short stories, and want to read more of them.)
no subject
Date: 2010-10-20 02:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-20 01:59 am (UTC)I know you are having a hard time getting distance on your writing right now and you think a lot of it looks like crap but I have to say, emphatically, based just on first lines and the other bits of info you included, they aren't crap. They are actually really good at hooking the reader (me) and making me want to read more of them.
Especially; 37, 36, 30, 25, 23, 17, 16, 15, 13, 11, 7, 6, 2, 1.
And that isn't because I'm not interested in reading the others.
I'm sending good thoughts that the docs fix the RLS and you get to go off the narcotics soon.
Also, I haven't given a copy of Melusine to anyone who hasn't loved it. (have you seen what copies of the virtu are going for on ebay and half.com? I'm thinking of putting mine under lock and key) Your former publisher is an idiot. I'm just saying.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-19 09:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-19 09:49 pm (UTC)And I hope the RLS eases up, and that the narcotics/publishers ease up on your ego. You really do make awesome things.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-19 11:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-20 12:18 am (UTC)P.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-19 10:03 pm (UTC)I hope you get better. And I LOVED all the little tid bits you just fed us with that list. I'd read every single one of them. :)
no subject
Date: 2010-10-20 03:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-19 11:28 pm (UTC)Kai in NYC
no subject
Date: 2010-10-19 11:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-20 12:20 am (UTC)Maybe the short-story dam will burst when you can take fewer narcotics.
As for the RLS, I thumb my nose in its general direction.
P.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-20 01:41 am (UTC)So, thank you, and I hope things start going better for you soon.
RLS
Date: 2010-10-20 01:50 am (UTC)You have to get better as I'm running out of things to read. (no self interest here).
no subject
Date: 2010-10-20 02:08 am (UTC)I do hope you find something to help with the RLS. Being a sufferer thereof myself, I understand the difficulty.
HOW IT IS
Date: 2010-10-20 07:00 am (UTC)A Muppet Reference
Date: 2010-10-20 07:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-22 01:34 am (UTC)My best friend got married recently, and I brought Companion to Wolves for her to read while getting her hair done. ;) She'd read it before, of course, but that book is very re-readable.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-22 02:52 am (UTC)