whatchoo gonna do?

for the sake of non-repetition, i'm just going to stop apologizing for sporadic posts and making promises for more frequent ones. what can i say? i'm streaky.

i have no idea what to write about. i'm only on here because i need to procrastinate with the book writing, and chris is glued to the new harry potter like i used to be glued to quarter pounders with cheese. that is to say, he is quite engaged. so, here's some random miscellanea:

-- i liked the deathly hallows, though not as much as some of the other books, which i think has a lot more to do with my newly discovered inner editor than any flaw in her imagination of the novel.

-- i registered for the surrey international writer's conference today, and i am alternating between moments of insane fury (WHY haven't they confirmed my fax registration by email yet???), rolling nausea (what am i thinking, believing i can successfully pitch my totally unfinished novel to kristin freaking amazing nelson?) and pure excitement (OMG, OMG, OMG, kelley armstrong, diana gabaldon and jack whyte might TALK to me!). luckily for me, and unluckily for you, i get to go up and down this emotional roller coaster for another three months. that means much blog-worthy angst and mania.

-- the exhaust support structure for the portable air conditioner i bought last week won't fit into our ridiculously small basement suite sized windows. i have to wait until tomorrow to call customer service for alternate suggestions because the fascist manufacturer is based in backwards ontario, and has been closed for the last three and a half hours.

-- the muscles in my abs, back and thighs are absurdly, whine-inspiringly sore, and i have no idea why. yes, i've worked out, but i haven't changed my workout's intensity or duration, so i don't know wtf.

-- my mom is sick with some sort of hitherto undiagnosed illness, and it's driving me nutso not knowing what's wrong with her. i live in constant fear of yet another person i love calling and telling me that they have the big c. fair warning: if my mom has the big c, you can just count on me to lose my shit. lose. my. shit. lock me up, give me a straight jacket, and padded walls. and then take me to visit my mommy so i can take care of her.

-- i'm not writing my book right now, and i don't know why. i can't say it's the publishing fear, really i can't. usually when i procrastinate, that's what it is. not this time. this time, i'm kind of scared that i can't write creatively anymore, that i spent so much time writing to please a potential publisher i don't remember the elements that made my writing unique back in the day. i'm hoping that writing this blog post will jump start the book writing, because it has in the past. fingers crossed.

-- i think i'm getting an out-of-the-house research job, and a very large part of me feels very 'eek' about that. however, it's time to wake the hell up and smell the burnt coffee that is life. the reality is that even if i finish the book, find an agent, and get the book published, i won't make enough per book to support myself financially. therefore, i probably need to get used to the very real world lifestyle of waking up early to exercise, getting ready, taking the bus downtown to work, coming home and hopefully having enough energy to write, because let's face it folks -- i'm not going to make enough money from writing to be materially comfortable, especially not with my boyfriend on strike. yet the prospect of facing this reality is most daunting, and frightening, because i have much at stake on other levels. i worry that this job will interfere with the book writing (what book writing? what?), with the healthy lifestyle changes i have made for myself (which are good for my health in so many ways i don't have enough fingers to count), with the largely stress free mental space i've got now. but alas, you never know until you try, and if i hate the job, i can always burn my bridges and quit, right? also, on the brighter side, the job might eliminate stress about finances, introduce me to new and nice people, and impose an external schedule that would actually force me to work on the things that are important to me rather than procrastinate by writing on my blog.

-- i should have hired a wedding planner.

-- i've decided on a honeymoon location, and i am freaking thrilled about it. can we just skip the wedding part and get on with the honeymoon part?

-- there's nothing good on tv this time of year.

-- i need some good book recommendations. anyone got any ideas?

-- i've been trying, and succeeding, at reading more. i think the more i read books, the more i am inspired to write books. the more i read publishing blogs, on the other hand... at any rate, just finished the year of magical thinking by joan didion and storm front by jim butcher. totally different books. magical thinking is a memoir about death and loss and grief, and it is both well-written and incredibly touching. i bawled at numerous moments because didion manages to communicate the intimacy of her relationship and the chaos of her loss in such a way that the reader can remember and imagine their own losses. it's a very good book, though certainly not happy reading. storm front is the first book in the dresden files series by butcher. i tried to read this series months ago, and totally hated it. i think i started with a middle book instead of the first book. anyway, for some reason -- i think because of butcher's inclusion in the urban fantasy pantheon along with hamilton, armstrong, harrison and harris -- i decided to attempt a re-read and boy, was i wrong the first time. i really enjoyed butcher's world building, and his main character, harry dresden, is funny and interesting. he's also a wizard listed in the yellow pages who consults for the police on the weird and whacky cases. butcher does a good job of melding back story with description and action, and he has great technical writing skills. there are times that the drama is a bit overwrought, but i'm willing to overlook that for all the other great things he brings to the table. page. whatever. the point is -- reading books is good for me. i should have a book on the go all the time. now, if only the publishing industry could manage to produce enough good ones for me to read. (did i mention that if i like a book, it rarely lasts for more than two days?)

-- it's getting hot again, and i don't like that at all.

i've got lots of other stuff to update, i could do this forever, but i'm bored, so i'm going to go try something else now. thanks for listening.

recommended reading: bad luck and trouble

margarita and i have coined a term for the urban fantasy mixed genre novels that we love and that we write in. they are known as Our Kind of Books. however, the urban fantasy genre is pretty saturated right now, and frankly, the content has become diluted. so if i waited for a great or even good Our Kind of Book to read, i would be reading about 6 books a year. as a result, i'd like to introduce a new genre: My Kind of Book. My Kind of Book includes Our Kind of Books, but the category also extends to thrillers, mysteries (hard-boiled and otherwise), romances (if decent, which is rare), and horror.

lee child has been writing My Kind of Book for a long time now. i read his first book, killing floor, about 8 or 9 years ago. i was immediately hooked. child's main character, jack reacher, is a former military policeman who wanders the united states, aimless, accumulating experiences of the country that he never had as a military brat and military cop living everywhere in the world but the good ole u.s.a. he is a true bad ass, and the way he is written makes him one of the best characters i have ever chanced upon, in any genre.

child's latest offering is titled bad luck and trouble. and let me tell you, it was neither bad luck nor trouble that had me reserving this title as soon as i heard it was on its way. sigh. the book is so good that i considered smoking a cigarette after, and i don't smoke. one of the members of reacher's old special investigations unit is found tortured and killed, so the remaining members of the team get together to hunt down the murderer(s?) because you do not mess with special investigations (that's their motto, not mine). though i have loved lee child since i was introduced to him, i find that i appreciate his writing even more now that i'm writing a novel. it's like a deeper, more mature love. ;) there is not one, NOT ONE, word or phrase that doesn't advance the plot or reveal character. reacher is about as proactive as it gets, yet he has to react to crazy shit happening to him or around him. the characters' actions are totally believable, and their actions are all you need to tell you who they are and what they are about. i think i've got to go buy the reacher novels that i was too poor to purchase during my immigrant years (i read them from the library instead, imagine that) so that i can read one every once in a while to remind myself of what great pacing, characterization and action look like. sigh. so dreamy. My Kind of Book.

to all my fan(s?)

today, while chatting with margarita, i was very politely berated (it wasn't really a beration, it was more of an encouragement, but she called it that, so i must respect her agency in naming her words) because i don't post on my blog enough. she is completely right. totally and completely. it's not as though i don't have time. it's not as though i don't have shit to talk about -- i must, for all the time i spend chatting with you all on various chat programs. and then there's my own blog habit. my list of bookmarked blogs is now about as long as my very large flat panel computer monitor and i check them all at least once a day. so i am READING blogs. i'm just not WRITING my blog. (by the way, i'd be totally pissed if any of my blog peeps that i regularly read didn't post for as long as i go between posts. and yes, that's a threat AND a promise.)

now, on to our soon-to-be-regularly scheduled posting...

so i just re-read the entire harry potter series. fucking fabulous. i mean, jk rowling is a genius. i appreciate this even more now that i've been writing my own novel. she is able to weave together plot elements like magic (mwhaha), and when she does the big writing no-no -- including a scene that doesn't advance the plot or reveal something about the characters -- it is always so much fun to read that you don't care if it advances the plot or not, you could read her writing about opening a can of alphagetti.

now, i've been finished with HP and friends for a couple of weeks, so in bookless desperation, i cracked open one of chris's nelson demille books, called charm school. i like him and his stuff, generally. in fact, some of his books are downright fantastic -- see the lion's game, cathedral, talbot odyssey. this one, though... not so much. for one thing, he is writing in third person, and when the character thinks something to himself, it is put in quotation marks!!! i know it's a small thing, but it's driving me nuts, cause i keep thinking.... is someone else in the room that i missed? secondly, there are these incredibly long descriptive scenes. i know, it's the pot calling the kettle black cause i've been known to enoy writing the odd descriptive scene myself, but these are like.... about antique shops in moscow and shit. makes me wonder if he's cutting and pasting from his travel journal. oh, oh. and the sex scene! ugh! i don't expect wonders from male writers when it comes to sex scenes, but this one was just... why even have it in there at all? went something like this.... little bit of foreplay, insertion, and then... and i quote, "she grabbed his buttocks as she came." new paragraph. "he came." i do not lie, and i have not omitted anything. it was so ugh, ugh, ugh, from both a writer's perspective and a romantic's perspective. but mostly from a writer's perspective.

the point of all this is not to discourage you from reading the book, but rather to explain a VERY important realization i came to while trying to force myself further into the novel before putting it down for good. this was one of demille's first books. he's come so far as a writer and a novelist since that first one. the first one is always going to be somewhat less than perfect. it will probably have parts that are messy, parts that are awkward, parts that are anti-climactic. parts that are over-descriptive, parts where the dialogue is stilted and forced. so i don't need the first one to be perfect, i just need it to a) tell the story that's rattling around in my head and b) tell it well enough to get an agent and get that first publishing credit under my belt!