The reading and writing of 2011 version... seven?
About time to finish this off...assuming I finish Downbelow station, I'll have read 19 books this year.
Awesome. Wrote two zero drafts (one was a trunk script, one was a novellette) and finished revising a novel (stabbed the damn thing through the heart with a dagger, it's DONE).
Books Read & My own stuff written in 2011
January
The Art of Syntax. Rhythm of Thought, Rhythm of Song. Ellen Bryant Voigt. A poetry text, part of a series by Graywold Press intended to "restore the art of criticism while illuminating the art of writing." Given how dashedly little I know about poetry, I found it both fascinating, indeed illuminating, as well as challenging (ack! A world of words for which I utterly lack the vocabulary!!) Voigt makes the material accessible to a poetry dumbkoff like me, and also makes it clear how much I have left to learn. I ended with the thought that I really should look at some of my old poems and try to revise them, because maybe they aren't really all that bad. Any text that can leave the reader intrigued enough to attempt something previously intimidating deserves a thumbs up.
Seed to Harvest. Four-book collection by Octavia E. Butler. I picked this up at the Science Fiction museum in Seattle because I'd never heard of her, let alone read any of her work that I know of (yes, yes, it's a big rock I live under.)
Includes;
Wild Seed. Was impressed enough that I gulped it down in four hours. Yes, four hours. It's on the short side, but I tend to gulp books that captivate me, and this one did, in a "this is dreadful and wonderful" kind of way. Horrible world she created, wonderful writing to make it appear real. Was thrown out of the story a couple of times -- the dolphin thing didn't work for me, which is sad, it should have and it was the only respite the poor protagonist got. Her characters, even the temporary ones, and there are a lot of temporary ones, are believable and nicely crafted. So much of what happens is in people's heads, and yet I never felt I was floating around; I always had a space I was grounded in. Very deft.
Mind of My Mind. As well written and compelling as the first. Didn't expect the ending to this at all, and to me, these first two books are the series, because they are the stories of the first two major protagonists and what they created separately and together. The following books are in the same "world," if you will, but they are their own stories.
Clay's Ark. Threw an unexpected, full-bodied twist into the series so hard I was having trouble figuring out how she was going to pull them together, and created an entire new legion of characters I cared about and then lost.
Patternmaster. Deftly written, compelling completion, harkening a bit in the end back to Wild Seed. But I was left wanting more. The twist is taken care of, but by utterly eliminating everything she spent so much time building in Clay's Ark.
Reactions to last three books written a month out of sync; I should have written up my reactions to each as I finished them. Butler introduces so many characters and so many places and so many relationships over the course of the four-books series that I found myself having the "want more" reaction a lot -- and yet it's masterful that she can create so many characters -- I can think of twenty-five without hesitation -- who I care about. Her ability to swiftly create compelling characters is fantastic.
February
Kalpa Imperial by Angelica Gorodischer; translated by Ursula LeGuin. Utterly wonderful; I ended up reading this aloud to myself as a way of pulling myself back into engagement with my world. I rather expect if I went back and paid attention to what was going on politically in Argentina, this book would be richer and far more meaningful; but even as an oral history of a fictional Empire of the Ages, it's fantastic. She *nails* the voice of several storytellers; it begs to be read aloud.
March
The Jury Master: Bob Dugoni. Got this at a PNWA conference; the author's from Seattle. Tightly paced, somewhat far-fetched (I didn't buy the reveal) but the beginning and middle work well. I got a little tired of being relentlessly PUSHED into tension; it reads more like a Hollywood script than a novel, with all the flaws of a Hollywood thriller. That complaint made, I gulped it down; it was tightly written, settings good and reasonably good character development.
April
The Cracked Throne: Joshua Palmatier. I can't remember the holes in this one as well; I remember thinking it was a good early-career novel, but after reading the excerpt from his website, I was enthralled again. Oversimplification mine: rags to riches story with a dagger's twist; with power comes a heavy burden. I pulled for the protagonist the entire way; I think I tripped over some of the ease with which the protagonist took to her new role. Class, prejudice, power, the cost of knowledge, all nicely teased out.
May
Lamentation by Ken Scholes. Post-apocalyptic fantasy by yet another PNW author. Grim and fantastic world where realities seem to shift. I really liked this; grim and weird and beautiful and long-term scheming by turns. Not reading the next book only because not all the books in the series are published yet.
Sometime this summer:
Story by Robert McKee. Lots of useful advice, largely aimed at scriptwriters but much of it useful for novelists as well. (Trigger warning: he uses CHINATOWN extensively to illustrate his points. Thank Goddess I never let anyone talk me into watching that film. Would have left me incoherent and raging for weeks. Months. YEARS.)
August
Blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking. Malcolm Gladwell. Started this one afternoon and finished it in a single night's bout of insomnia, so I actually had to look the book up to remind me about it three months later. Too much information and analysis can be problematic; a trained eye and mind can "thin-slice," or take a tiny sample of information/situation and accurately judge its outcome, such as divorce or battle. Highly impressed with the general whose seat-of-the-pants War Games victory over the meeting-and-analysis-burdened "home forces" embarrassed the Pentagon. Interesting concepts to me as I am easily exhausted and overwhelmed by decision-making.
Puddinhead Wilson. Mark Twain. We stayed in the Twain room at Sylvia Beach, and I read this book, a number of his essays, and the beginning of "Innocents Abroad." The racism, she is staggering. His novels recorded a time in which nobody bothered trying to cover up their vitrol and often were proud of it, and I had forgotten how frank he was. It had been a very long time since I've read any Twain.
Plato and a Platypus Walk into a Bar: Understanding Philosophy Through Jokes. Tom Cathcart and Daniel Klein. Possibly the best explanation of various types of philosophy I've read, which should make your average professor weep in his beer. Still can't keep 'em sorted out, but luckily my need to pass that exam vanished a long time ago. Nice lighthearted refresher with the occasional sharp jab.
Plan B. Anne Lamott. I kept wanting to dislike this book, and dislike Ms. Lamont, and I don't know why. She has good advice, I just wanted to pick her up and shake her periodically. It is entirely possible characteristics I labeled ditsy, disorganized, and purposelessly over-emotional simply reminded me far too much of aspects of myself I dislike. Most annoying? Damned if I didn't feel better after I finished reading it.
Lily's Pesky Plant. A Disney book about a fairy who plants an odd seed. Hey, the daughter of a friend gave it to me. It was interesting in that it felt like an all-female world, and the primary lesson seemed to be to stick to your decisions and what seems intuitively right to you, even when everyone is unhappy at you and you're not really sure of yourself.
September
Neverwhere. Neil Gaiman. I gulped this down. I loved the way he describes things, made things real for me. I liked his protagonists, the girl who could open things and the bumbling guy. His supporting cast has a few folks in it trying to steal the show in a good way. And ew, what awful villains. All of them.
On Writing. Stephen King. I can't read his horror books, but I get where they're coming from now. It's kind of like going to a talk an author gives on writing; everybody wants to know how they got published first, and the mechanics of writing dead last. The first half of the book really is memoir, and you think "what is this teaching me about writing," and it isn't, it's teaching you why King writes what and how he does. Which ends up being quite instructive. Easy, useful read.
October
Blacklist. Sara Parestsky. Fantastic thick detective fiction mystery, featuring V. I Warshawski as her gutsy female P.I. Paretsky does things in one book I'm trying to do in two manuscripts, only she shows me how a master does it, PLUS throws in more research and gossip and class and race realities and history and... GAH. Damn she's good. Trying not to want to throw in the towel -- she's silver-haired with at least 16 published novels under her belt.
The Last Continent. Terry Prachett. Rincewood and the sapientwood Luggage walk across the land of no rain. Love Prachett and his DiscWorld. Fate and cultural differences and the hero mystique, among other things; magic screws up the dreamtime. I can't really do a review on Prachett's work. I love it too much.
Starfarers by Vonda N. McIntyre. Still pissed about the ending of this one, but the book was well crafted, kept me gulping it down. I believed the conceit; the ship was real, the politics were realistic, the scientists a little wooden, the threesome a bit cute, but I forgive it any problems I had with it because it was published in 1989 and it not only holds up against anything I pick up today, the sexism is nonexistent.
November
Snuff. Terry Prachett. Ah, Commander Vimes, how I love thee. This is a darker read than some, with spots of light humor; deals with slavery, prejudice, murder, class, how wealth and power can be used for good or ill, and how far a "good" person can and should go when dealing with "bad" people. Oh, yes, and how fascinating poop of all kinds can be to a young boy.
December
Downbelow Station: Not done with this yet, but at the rate I'm devouring it I will be by tonight. I took it with me to Eastern Oregon to read while we were at Dad's; picked up it up to unwind (ha!) when we got back; picked it up this morning because I need to know what's going to happen. C.J. Cherryh has mastered tension and stakes. Character-building is deft and light and lovely. Oh, and this is yet another Pacific Northwest author. Surrounded by talent, I am.
I'm still chewing on Grunts by Mary Gentle. I'll probably be chewing for awhile. Of the space/fantasy operas that Ms. B gave me to read, it was the first one I started, and I'm only halfway through it. I'm having a hard time sticking with it, even though Gentle does a fantastic job of the epic it's telling. There's just more hack and hew from an enthusiastic orc's point of view than I really can handle.
MY STUFF
Short stories finished/written in 2011
Stormlight, (revised; drafted in April 2010.)
Novels written/revisions completed in 2011
Executed Absolution: Revision (seven?) finished in September; written in 2004. An Iris Woosley novel.
Second Planet's Mowhawk. NaNo novel written in November; at this point novelette; complete zero draft at 50K.
Script
WENDY MITTY: My result of ScriptFrenzy in April. A dank weird little zero draft about an agoraphobic rapist-hunter, a chef's competition and an environmentalist activist group.
Novels/Revisions in progress in 2011
Green Sky Dreaming, novel: Reviewed first draft and took revision notes in March; worked on revision through the move, after which I switched to Ninth Planet's Children. This isn't a full draft; it's a fantasy concept and stands at only 30K.
Ninth Planet's Children; written in 2010; first revision roughly half-done.
Twelfth Planet's Kin started in November (with some of Ninth Planet's Children) and set aside; unfinished zero draft at about 35K.
In other news, I woke up with thoughts that a year ago would have sent me into a six-day ravening depression. I looked them in the face, nodded, and got up and went about my day. I count that a win.
Awesome. Wrote two zero drafts (one was a trunk script, one was a novellette) and finished revising a novel (stabbed the damn thing through the heart with a dagger, it's DONE).
Books Read & My own stuff written in 2011
January
The Art of Syntax. Rhythm of Thought, Rhythm of Song. Ellen Bryant Voigt. A poetry text, part of a series by Graywold Press intended to "restore the art of criticism while illuminating the art of writing." Given how dashedly little I know about poetry, I found it both fascinating, indeed illuminating, as well as challenging (ack! A world of words for which I utterly lack the vocabulary!!) Voigt makes the material accessible to a poetry dumbkoff like me, and also makes it clear how much I have left to learn. I ended with the thought that I really should look at some of my old poems and try to revise them, because maybe they aren't really all that bad. Any text that can leave the reader intrigued enough to attempt something previously intimidating deserves a thumbs up.
Seed to Harvest. Four-book collection by Octavia E. Butler. I picked this up at the Science Fiction museum in Seattle because I'd never heard of her, let alone read any of her work that I know of (yes, yes, it's a big rock I live under.)
Includes;
Wild Seed. Was impressed enough that I gulped it down in four hours. Yes, four hours. It's on the short side, but I tend to gulp books that captivate me, and this one did, in a "this is dreadful and wonderful" kind of way. Horrible world she created, wonderful writing to make it appear real. Was thrown out of the story a couple of times -- the dolphin thing didn't work for me, which is sad, it should have and it was the only respite the poor protagonist got. Her characters, even the temporary ones, and there are a lot of temporary ones, are believable and nicely crafted. So much of what happens is in people's heads, and yet I never felt I was floating around; I always had a space I was grounded in. Very deft.
Mind of My Mind. As well written and compelling as the first. Didn't expect the ending to this at all, and to me, these first two books are the series, because they are the stories of the first two major protagonists and what they created separately and together. The following books are in the same "world," if you will, but they are their own stories.
Clay's Ark. Threw an unexpected, full-bodied twist into the series so hard I was having trouble figuring out how she was going to pull them together, and created an entire new legion of characters I cared about and then lost.
Patternmaster. Deftly written, compelling completion, harkening a bit in the end back to Wild Seed. But I was left wanting more. The twist is taken care of, but by utterly eliminating everything she spent so much time building in Clay's Ark.
Reactions to last three books written a month out of sync; I should have written up my reactions to each as I finished them. Butler introduces so many characters and so many places and so many relationships over the course of the four-books series that I found myself having the "want more" reaction a lot -- and yet it's masterful that she can create so many characters -- I can think of twenty-five without hesitation -- who I care about. Her ability to swiftly create compelling characters is fantastic.
February
Kalpa Imperial by Angelica Gorodischer; translated by Ursula LeGuin. Utterly wonderful; I ended up reading this aloud to myself as a way of pulling myself back into engagement with my world. I rather expect if I went back and paid attention to what was going on politically in Argentina, this book would be richer and far more meaningful; but even as an oral history of a fictional Empire of the Ages, it's fantastic. She *nails* the voice of several storytellers; it begs to be read aloud.
March
The Jury Master: Bob Dugoni. Got this at a PNWA conference; the author's from Seattle. Tightly paced, somewhat far-fetched (I didn't buy the reveal) but the beginning and middle work well. I got a little tired of being relentlessly PUSHED into tension; it reads more like a Hollywood script than a novel, with all the flaws of a Hollywood thriller. That complaint made, I gulped it down; it was tightly written, settings good and reasonably good character development.
April
The Cracked Throne: Joshua Palmatier. I can't remember the holes in this one as well; I remember thinking it was a good early-career novel, but after reading the excerpt from his website, I was enthralled again. Oversimplification mine: rags to riches story with a dagger's twist; with power comes a heavy burden. I pulled for the protagonist the entire way; I think I tripped over some of the ease with which the protagonist took to her new role. Class, prejudice, power, the cost of knowledge, all nicely teased out.
May
Lamentation by Ken Scholes. Post-apocalyptic fantasy by yet another PNW author. Grim and fantastic world where realities seem to shift. I really liked this; grim and weird and beautiful and long-term scheming by turns. Not reading the next book only because not all the books in the series are published yet.
Sometime this summer:
Story by Robert McKee. Lots of useful advice, largely aimed at scriptwriters but much of it useful for novelists as well. (Trigger warning: he uses CHINATOWN extensively to illustrate his points. Thank Goddess I never let anyone talk me into watching that film. Would have left me incoherent and raging for weeks. Months. YEARS.)
August
Blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking. Malcolm Gladwell. Started this one afternoon and finished it in a single night's bout of insomnia, so I actually had to look the book up to remind me about it three months later. Too much information and analysis can be problematic; a trained eye and mind can "thin-slice," or take a tiny sample of information/situation and accurately judge its outcome, such as divorce or battle. Highly impressed with the general whose seat-of-the-pants War Games victory over the meeting-and-analysis-burdened "home forces" embarrassed the Pentagon. Interesting concepts to me as I am easily exhausted and overwhelmed by decision-making.
Puddinhead Wilson. Mark Twain. We stayed in the Twain room at Sylvia Beach, and I read this book, a number of his essays, and the beginning of "Innocents Abroad." The racism, she is staggering. His novels recorded a time in which nobody bothered trying to cover up their vitrol and often were proud of it, and I had forgotten how frank he was. It had been a very long time since I've read any Twain.
Plato and a Platypus Walk into a Bar: Understanding Philosophy Through Jokes. Tom Cathcart and Daniel Klein. Possibly the best explanation of various types of philosophy I've read, which should make your average professor weep in his beer. Still can't keep 'em sorted out, but luckily my need to pass that exam vanished a long time ago. Nice lighthearted refresher with the occasional sharp jab.
Plan B. Anne Lamott. I kept wanting to dislike this book, and dislike Ms. Lamont, and I don't know why. She has good advice, I just wanted to pick her up and shake her periodically. It is entirely possible characteristics I labeled ditsy, disorganized, and purposelessly over-emotional simply reminded me far too much of aspects of myself I dislike. Most annoying? Damned if I didn't feel better after I finished reading it.
Lily's Pesky Plant. A Disney book about a fairy who plants an odd seed. Hey, the daughter of a friend gave it to me. It was interesting in that it felt like an all-female world, and the primary lesson seemed to be to stick to your decisions and what seems intuitively right to you, even when everyone is unhappy at you and you're not really sure of yourself.
September
Neverwhere. Neil Gaiman. I gulped this down. I loved the way he describes things, made things real for me. I liked his protagonists, the girl who could open things and the bumbling guy. His supporting cast has a few folks in it trying to steal the show in a good way. And ew, what awful villains. All of them.
On Writing. Stephen King. I can't read his horror books, but I get where they're coming from now. It's kind of like going to a talk an author gives on writing; everybody wants to know how they got published first, and the mechanics of writing dead last. The first half of the book really is memoir, and you think "what is this teaching me about writing," and it isn't, it's teaching you why King writes what and how he does. Which ends up being quite instructive. Easy, useful read.
October
Blacklist. Sara Parestsky. Fantastic thick detective fiction mystery, featuring V. I Warshawski as her gutsy female P.I. Paretsky does things in one book I'm trying to do in two manuscripts, only she shows me how a master does it, PLUS throws in more research and gossip and class and race realities and history and... GAH. Damn she's good. Trying not to want to throw in the towel -- she's silver-haired with at least 16 published novels under her belt.
The Last Continent. Terry Prachett. Rincewood and the sapientwood Luggage walk across the land of no rain. Love Prachett and his DiscWorld. Fate and cultural differences and the hero mystique, among other things; magic screws up the dreamtime. I can't really do a review on Prachett's work. I love it too much.
Starfarers by Vonda N. McIntyre. Still pissed about the ending of this one, but the book was well crafted, kept me gulping it down. I believed the conceit; the ship was real, the politics were realistic, the scientists a little wooden, the threesome a bit cute, but I forgive it any problems I had with it because it was published in 1989 and it not only holds up against anything I pick up today, the sexism is nonexistent.
November
Snuff. Terry Prachett. Ah, Commander Vimes, how I love thee. This is a darker read than some, with spots of light humor; deals with slavery, prejudice, murder, class, how wealth and power can be used for good or ill, and how far a "good" person can and should go when dealing with "bad" people. Oh, yes, and how fascinating poop of all kinds can be to a young boy.
December
Downbelow Station: Not done with this yet, but at the rate I'm devouring it I will be by tonight. I took it with me to Eastern Oregon to read while we were at Dad's; picked up it up to unwind (ha!) when we got back; picked it up this morning because I need to know what's going to happen. C.J. Cherryh has mastered tension and stakes. Character-building is deft and light and lovely. Oh, and this is yet another Pacific Northwest author. Surrounded by talent, I am.
I'm still chewing on Grunts by Mary Gentle. I'll probably be chewing for awhile. Of the space/fantasy operas that Ms. B gave me to read, it was the first one I started, and I'm only halfway through it. I'm having a hard time sticking with it, even though Gentle does a fantastic job of the epic it's telling. There's just more hack and hew from an enthusiastic orc's point of view than I really can handle.
MY STUFF
Short stories finished/written in 2011
Stormlight, (revised; drafted in April 2010.)
Novels written/revisions completed in 2011
Executed Absolution: Revision (seven?) finished in September; written in 2004. An Iris Woosley novel.
Second Planet's Mowhawk. NaNo novel written in November; at this point novelette; complete zero draft at 50K.
Script
WENDY MITTY: My result of ScriptFrenzy in April. A dank weird little zero draft about an agoraphobic rapist-hunter, a chef's competition and an environmentalist activist group.
Novels/Revisions in progress in 2011
Green Sky Dreaming, novel: Reviewed first draft and took revision notes in March; worked on revision through the move, after which I switched to Ninth Planet's Children. This isn't a full draft; it's a fantasy concept and stands at only 30K.
Ninth Planet's Children; written in 2010; first revision roughly half-done.
Twelfth Planet's Kin started in November (with some of Ninth Planet's Children) and set aside; unfinished zero draft at about 35K.
In other news, I woke up with thoughts that a year ago would have sent me into a six-day ravening depression. I looked them in the face, nodded, and got up and went about my day. I count that a win.