Dance of Diplomacy

I had one of those moments today, when the big details of planning the next book start popping up and falling into place. The darn thing's been simmering for months (since before I finished the last book last December) but hasn't really felt substantial until now. I felt like I was short a subplot.

Yesterday I realized I was telling a story that put a nineteen-year-old boy and a sixteen-year-old girl with very different backgrounds in close proximity for a long period of time. Even with an alien chaperone, they're going to at least explore the idea of romance. Duh. There will be flirting or fighting or (ideally) both.

Fourth plot line in place, I think I've got a book. Today seems to have proved it, as all the plot lines started to fill out and jostle for position. I'm not ready to start it yet (good, since I have a couple of shorts I want to finish before starting another long project), but I know where it all has to start. It won't be long until I've figured out the order in which everything has to happen.

Now I just have to get that hula research done.

Breaking Rules, Part I

Rex Stout's Nero Wolfe appeared in 33 novels and 39 shorter works. He is one of literature's most perfectly delineated creatures of habit. Some things I know about Nero Wolfe's household:

1. Wolfe does not leave the brownstone.
2. Wolfe is not to be interrupted between 9 and 11 a.m., 4 and 6 p.m. each day, when he is in the plant rooms.
3. Wolfe will not discuss business over meals.
4. Food for Wolfe's table is procured to his specifications.
5. Wolfe considers it an abomination for anyone to skip a meal.
   
6. Archie (assistant), Orrie (operative), Theodore (orchid tender), and Fritz (cook) work for Wolfe.
7. Archie requires eight hours of sleep to function.
8. Wolfe does not take Archie seriously when he speaks of getting married.
   
9. Wolfe does not shake hands.
10. Wolfe, being terrified of women, does not converse with them except in fulfilling the requirements of business.
11. Wolfe does not take cases, except when the bank balance is low and the fee is high.
12. Wolfe's clients come to him.
    
13. Wolfe's clients are innocent.
14. Wolfe does not allow himself to be used.
    
15. Wolfe, being a genius, determines the identity of the killer before Archie.
    
16. Wolfe does not use his operatives for any job requiring simple manpower. That is left to the police.
17. Archie and Wolfe maintain a strained relationship with the police, particularly with Inspector Cramer.
18. Cramer calls Archie by his last name.

I could go on, but that's enough to make my point. If you've read more than one Nero Wolfe story, you should notice something about this list: every one of these rules has been broken. Stout kept his series fresh by never letting the routine become routine. Every single story he wrote happened on the edge of his characters' normal lives. He never stopped messing with them.

Not a bad piece of advice for any fiction, really.

Update

On the upside, despite having migraines and not knowing what they were, I've thrown a party, completed my book revisions and started to distribute betas, and gotten a compliment from Steve Brust since my last post in September. Not too shabby for a defective kid.

Migraineur

I added a new word to my vocabulary last night, but I'm not as thrilled as you might think. I'm apparently a migraineur, whether I like it or not. I mean, I already knew I got migraines--not much to like there. But migraineur makes it sound as though I'm a purveyor, like I cause the stupid things.

The phrase I added along with migraineur is migraine variant, which is much more useful. It means all those migraines I get without the headache. Didn't know you could get migraines that don't hurt? Neither did I until a few years ago. That was when I discovered that I wasn't getting 3-4 migraines a year. I was getting 3-4 of them a week.

Sure, they didn't hurt (unless I had a tension headache on top of them, which did happen). I was just photosensitive, sleepy, and unable to think beyond about two steps of complexity. The surface of the world sort of rippled with light. My face was numb and my fingers were cold. I didn't hurt; I just felt like crap. Then I took a nice little beta blocker (adrenaline antagonist) for a year, which made them mostly go away.

Last night I was reading a post on Science Blogs about Alice in Wonderland syndrome, in which people feel like they've been obeying the "Eat me" and "Drink me" signs. Their bodies seem to have changed dimensions. My reaction was "Wait. You mean not everyone feels that way? So why am I waving to my feet right now?" Then the article mentioned a link to migraines, and I knew why I'd felt like crap for the last few weeks. It explained the two days of dizziness and sleepiness over my birthday and a whole host of other weird symptoms that didn't quite fit allergies or a virus.

Sigh. So now I have three choices.

(1) I can rearrange my life to avoid adrenaline. I suspect my very stressful spring and summer have a lot to do with undoing the progress the beta blockers made. But I've learned so much since I've taken on my more stressful job, and I've accomplished things I don't want to turn my back on. This is my least favorite choice.

(2) I can try to rebuild my response to stressors--stop producing so much adrenaline. I've taken so much of my life apart and put it back together that this seems possible, but I'm not sure. I've been shy since birth, phobic since not long after, and somewhat emotionally abused. Weird to say, but I've never really not been stressed, except when I was on the beta blockers. Even then, I was producing adrenaline, I just wasn't sensitive to it. Still, I think it's worth a try, at least until "not being stressed" becomes just one more thing on my to do list.

Then it's back to (3), my lovely little blue beta blockers. They're not bad, really. I just have to remember to take a deep breath every time I sit or stand up. They only made me pass out once (not a recommended work activity, by the way).

One way or another, migraineur no more.

Political Joke

Q: How many dead Minnesotans does it take to change a Republican governor's mind about funding infrastructure?

A: Apparently, more than 13.

You don't think that's funny? Me neither. Just true.

A Question of Timing

So, I'm not always great at guiding readers through the passage of time, but even I can tell that two months is plenty of time in which to both consult an attorney and enter a plea "quickly and expeditiously." I suspect the good senator has his lawyer on speed dial.

If you have to lie to yourself, sir, that's one thing. If you lie to me, though, you'll find I'm a somewhat more critical audience.

Writing Meme

Kelly started it, and while I'm feeling too busy to play, I'm also feeling like a bad mother to my blog, so here goes.

What do you find _______ about writing?

Hardest? Making sure the plot makes it to the surface of the story.

Easiest? Dialog and character tics.

Most fun? Breaking the rules, with malice aforethought, and making it work.

Most tedious? Submissions. I'd much rather just write, but I know I need to keep measuring myself against the higher standard to make myself improve.

Coolest? Discovering that maybe I did know how to do that after all. It's always nice when I hit the dreaded bit and just write right through it.

Least cool? Knowing that in some ways, I'm ten to fifteen years behind the trends in my genre.

Best? Being able to scratch that creative itch and know that what I made beats the hell out of any sticker-laden, ribbon-bound, specialty-sheared, cutesy, disposable scrapbook.

Worst? Never quite grasping what I'm reaching for.

Managing Your Writing Addiction

5. If you win big, enjoy! But remind yourself it will probably never happen again.

Oh, go read.

Why Harry Potter

What Rowling doesn't have going for her:

• >> Solid grasp of punctuation (grrrrrr)
• >> Strong pacing
• >> Economy
• >> Any idea that names precede character development
• >> Great originality

What she does:

• >> Poster child for "show, don't tell," sometimes ad nauseum
• >> Fundamental conflicts, both good v. evil and child v. adult
• >> Characters who are recognizable "types" but still all individuals with their own goals, preferences, habits and failings
• >> Deep understanding of the myriad ways in which people are cruel to each other
• >> Humor
• >> Eye and ear for mannerisms
• >> Main character who is the reader's stand-in for the introduction to all that is weird, wonderful and scary

Being a Writer

One of the standard pieces of advice for aspiring writers is to identify one's self as a writer, claim it as part of one's identity. I've always resisted doing that.

Part of my reaction is that I don't like being tied down to a single identity. It feels like being a butterfly pinned to a board, wings outspread, and labeled. Every one I've seen like that was dead. Not that being alive in that situation appeals any more. I've spent a good chunk of my life flitting from display case to display case, and I want to be able to do it again if warranted.

The other reason not to identify myself as a writer is that I'm pretty sure I could stop, unlike most writers I know. Why don't I? After all, writing is a vale of tears, self-torture, humiliation on demand, etc. ETC.

Yeah, right. This stuff is a hoot.

Where else in life do I get to make up as much nonsense as I like and persuade people to take it seriously? Where else can I march people around without worrying about hurt feelings and trampled rights? Where else can I funnel the creative urge, which makes me edgy and unsatisfied if not indulged, into something that has a shot making its way in the world? Where else can I stretch myself this much, learn and risk failure without real-world consequences?

And how much of that would change if I told myself I was a writer? How much more seriously would I have to take it if it were something I am instead of just something I do?

No thanks. I think I'll stretch my wings a bit longer on my own before I go looking for that pin.

Writing Thoughts

Wyrdsmiths are saying interesting things about writing humor. Lots of people with multiple perspectives.

And Eleanor Arnason is talking about why she doesn't kill characters. I'm with her on this one, but for different reasons. Too many times, killing a character feels like tacking on an artificial cost to the story. Yeah, I know, people die in real life. But characters rarely go to the bathroom in fiction because it doesn't serve any purpose in the story. If a death doesn't serve a story purpose that can't be served any other way, it feels artificial. I feel cheated.

Spoiler alert: If you haven't read War for the Oaks, well, why not? Go read it. The illustration will be stronger for it.

War for the Oaks is where I first noticed the problem. When Willie dies, it doesn't do anything that injuring him (making him less attractive, taking his ability to play) wouldn't do. In the process, it stops his story. And he was just getting interesting--in ways that maiming him could have amplified.

Phooey.

So if you're going to kill your characters, make it part of their story. Make sure it doesn't derail your own. Or just leave them alive. It isn't always the weaker choice.

Insomnia...

...is not my friend. But that doesn't stop it from hanging around hoping, no matter how sick or tired I am. I've tried ignoring it. Doesn't work. Damn thing can't take a hint. I think I'll try being mean next.

Wish me luck.

Oh, and for the record, I don't really hate the ice cream truck. I just wish it weren't audible four blocks away and didn't hang around our corner for fifteen minutes at a time...and didn't use a bad midi (not redundant) version of "La Cucaracha" to attract customers. Okay, maybe I do hate it a little.

WisCon Top 10 Moments

Because it wouldn't be a blog without lists.

10. Knowing that I traveled hundreds of miles to spend a weekend mostly with people who live less than 20 miles from me.

9. Being welcomed back by the bartender in the Governor's Club. He's ours and we're his, even if we only see him once a year.

8. Getting called for telling people things about themselves that are absolutely characteristic but never acknowledged, unique quirks that people don't necessarily love about themselves but that I find charming because, without them, this person wouldn't be the person I like. The phrase she used was, I think, "It sounds so complimentary--and so vicious."

7. Having said person apologize the next day for doing to me exactly what I'd just done to her.

6. The child-free panel. It only ended an hour after it was scheduled to. I don't think I'd realized how much I self-censor on the topic until I saw no need to. That one will happen again.

5. Catching up with Tracy. It's always a highlight of WisCon. It might, in fact, be enough of a highlight to explain why we don't talk the rest of the year. Counterintuitive but true.

4. Creating instant happiness with sock monkeys.

3. Meeting and chatting with sdn. It was an exercise in reverse perspective. She got more life sized the closer she got. Way cool.

2. Discovering that someone I've always liked but haven't had many opportunities to talk to is the friend I thought he might be. Getting to have a few brief moments of that conversation.

1. Total fangirl squee moment. Having Ellen Kushner tell me to go write the story of one of her characters because she wasn't interested in doing it. My writing skills are currently wholly inadequate, but if I'm ever able to do the story justice, I may have to take her up on it.

Time to Take a Risk?

Cognitive Daily, my I-haven't-completely-abandoned-my-college-major daily read, has a link to this NPR interview with a probability expert on the futility of trying to predict the next Harry Potter phenom and other highly unlikely things. My favorite part (of course) of the Cognitive Daily article:

He also mentions the propensity to risk more to avoid losses than to make gains. This can explain why publishers are so quick to reject even promising works by unproven writers. Taleb suggests that publishers should be offering more contracts to writers because that small risk can have such a vast reward.

I'm all for that. Now, how do we convince them?

Why SG-1

Over on Making Light, there's a thread about Entertainment Weekly's list of the top 25 SF movies and TV shows from the last 25 years. Stargate SG-1 is not only not on EW's list, it isn't recommended in the 233 comments prior to mine at Making Light. Torchwood (blegh) was listed, but SG-1 wasn't. That floored me.

Full fangeek confession here: Not only do we own five seasons of the show, we also get together with friends on Fridays for dinner and to watch. When the show is on hiatus, the only thing we've done that's more than a placeholder is watch the new Doctor Who. Otherwise, we're just waiting for our stories to come back.

I'm not sure why it's less than cool in the SF fan community to like SG-1, but I'm not ashamed to say that I do. In the interest of combating lists with lists, here's why.

1. The writers know how to pay me back for an hour of my time. Too many shows right now go in for soap opera storytelling, where I have to put in hours of watching before anything is resolved. Not SG-1. The arc goes on, but something is resolved every hour (or two).
2. The characters are geeks. Each of the team (including rotating members) has an overriding passion.
   
3. The characters are bright. They're risk takers, since it's the nature of their profession, but they mitigate the risk where possible.
4. There are consequences. Decisions made in one episode affect the events in later episodes, later seasons. Sometimes this is a good thing. Sometimes expediency proves to be terribly short-sighted.
5. There are non-fatal consequences. The writers trust me as an audience member enough to ease up on the stakes from time to time. These episodes are still compelling.
6. Enemies of our enemies are not necessarily our friends. In fact, enemies have become (uneasy) allies when a new, bigger threat looms.
7. Our allies don't have the same priorities we do. Our friends from other planets and races have responsibilities to their own people that come first. Everyone wants to know what the risks and potential for gain is for them before deciding whether to help.
8. Ascension may be a long-term goal to be aspired to, but nobody's really ready to leave behind being human while they still have another choice.
9. Ba'al. Woof. (Four Ba'als in one room? Intriguing, but a little creepy.)
   
10. The characters have frequent philosophical differences. They are rarely resolved.
11. Nobody seems to be afraid that being funny means they won't be taken seriously.
12. There are good scientists and bad scientists, pragmatic scientists and space cases. Being a scientist doesn't keep a character from being a human being. Ditto for women. Ditto for people in military or government service.
    
13. Our main characters are highly competent people, but they work at it. They don't spend a lot of time, say, in front of the TV.
14. The new big gun/shield is always a stopgap. Technology never stands still.
15. There's plenty of fan service, but it never overruns the story. Except maybe episode 200. I'm not sure. I was too busy laughing for most of it.

There's more, but that's the top-of-the-mind list.