The Migraine isn’t helping
I may end up having to quit short tonight. I have a stress migraine, I feel like hell, and yeah, it probably is due to thinking too much about the editorial changes. But I’m a writer, I live in a world with zero stability anyway, and stuff like this removes even any faint illusions of reason or order in my little universe.
No, it ain’t the end of the world. It may even turn out to be great. But it’s change, and right at the moment the thing I welcome least in my life is even more change.
And then the world exploded
Just got news from my agent that my Time-Warner editor, Betsy Mitchell, has moved to Del Rey, to take the position of Editor-in-Chief. I’m reeling. Gives a whole new meaning to the phrase, “May you live in interesting times,” at least for me.
About 800 words on Talyn
Back to work, with a twist
I’m transferring what I have on Talyn to the Visor — I’ll work on it downstairs while hanging out. Who can resist goofy stop-motion Christmas movies with the single inevitable theme of “Oh my gosh, we’re going to have to Cancel Christmas This Year?”
Well, me, frankly, but I like hanging out with my family, and that’s what’s on the agenda tonight, so I’ll sit and scoff with the scoffers and have fun anyway. And, if all goes well, knock back another thousand or so words on the sample material.
And 1077 of a sample chapter for the FALLEN SUNS book
I’m liking the girl’s voice. Her name is Talyn, her friend’s name is Nadee, and the boy for whom she is about to get herself into some serious shit is name Fean.
So far. Nothing is ever cast in stone.
Enough for one night. I like this material, though. I’m excited. More tomorrow.
2546 words, and on to the next thing
I like the unnerving little dagger at the end of scene three. It sets up tomorrow’s scene nicely; I find myself already eager to jump in. Good sign. It’s like having something left in the tank after a morning run; like knowing you could sit down and do the whole thing again.
Now to FALLEN SUNS, and finding the girl who will become the voice of an epic that will span a world, the girl who will stand against the fleshwizards and their planned hells, and who will do it with panache and a bit of self-deprecating humor. Onward.
A million images are colliding in my skull
I’ve mentioned that Betsy (my Warner Aspect editor) didn’t want another book set in Matrin, though I’m not certain if I mentioned it here. Anyway, I put together a kick-ass new world, a magic system I love, and, unfortunately, a story that didn’t work. However, Russ Galen, my agent, pointed out the parts of it that did work. And I got the go-ahead to pitch something to Betsy in first person, which is an unusual direction to take for an epic fantasy novel. It will be harder, I think, to get the scope and scale, but Oh, MAMA, if I can get it, and convey it in the pitch, then I’d get to write in first person.
And, godDAMN, I love writing in first person. I love the voice, the rhythm, the distance, the pacing, the challenges — I love everything about first person. Books in first person are also the ones I most enjoy reading.
This was a gift, this go-ahead to make this particular pitch, and I am so wound-up I almost can’t think.
So here’s the plan. First I have to do my 2400+ on The Wreck of Heaven. That should be a blast — I have a great scene I get to do today. Then I sit down and work out a single viewpoint character that I would kill to write, and figure out her first story. I have the world, I have the enemies, I have some of the friends, I know where she is and what she’s doing when the story starts. I already have a whisper of her voice. I just don’t have her. So I look for her, and when I find her, I do some words on her today, too.
God, this is going to be fun. These are the times when I can’t believe that I am so lucky — that this is my job. Sure as hell makes up for the bad days — and frankly, the bad days are never bad.
Bad was doing CPR on those two kids in the ER one day, and having to call both codes after an hour of working, and having to go out and tell the parents both of their children were dead. Compared to that, there are no bad days in writing. Or if there is, the bad day would be having to say, “I can’t write any more — now I have to go back and do CPR on people’s little kids to pay the bills.”
Not having my writing log while I’m writing is driving me nuts
… which, admittedly, isn’t all that great a leap. But I’m having this amazing time, developing an entirely new world, new magic system, characters and story — I haven’t been this excited about anything in ages. I have my shot at hardcover if I can come up with the right project, and I have been for the last two days, and will be, for the next week or so, doing everything I can to make that shot count.
This comes at a nightmare time, deadline-wise — but opportunities happen when they happen, and if I lose a little sleep in the next month, I suspect I’ll still live.