Locus Anyone?

Sorry, I’ve been quiet lately. I’ve been so busy that I’m already this far in to 2006 and I haven’t found the time to have a cup of tea at Peet’s coffee. I’ve written at least a chunk of all of my books there. Jen and I have plotted several, but yet this year has started off with such a loud and crazy bang, I haven’t had a cup of tea there.

I’m hoping that’ll change…but not until tomorrow. I’ve got waaaaay too much stuff I gotta get done today.

Over the weekend, Jason had a signing at our local Barnes & Noble. That was good. I was too busy to do more than drop by for a little while, but I did drop by. It’s showing support, and hey I get to check out the bargain racks.

But what I was most interested in, they didn’t have. The latest Locus Magazine. I’ve heard that there’s a picture of Jason and I in it, but I haven’t seen it yet and I’m dying to! I think it might be in one of my loud get-ups and I wanna post it to my website.

Then again, with the amount of time I don’t have lately, perhaps it won’t get posted until the end of the year!

I’m actually looking forward to some free time just so I can update my website. I’ve got lots more stuff that can go up.

Hopefully, my Locus Magazine will arrive in my mailbox today. If not, guess I’ll sigh and pout some more.

Pushing my envelope…with geese and stripes

I’ve decided to embark upon a new project…along with all my current ones as Rina Slayter and with Ashleigh Raine.

I’m gonna write some short stuff for a change. Yeah, as half of Ashleigh Raine, I’ve written some stories less than 15k, but I’m talking ultra-short here.

The other day, I was dinking around my files and ran across a great opening sentence (I’d put it here, but then there’d be nothing to discover when the story gets posted) that I’d filed away. It wasn’t going to suit a novel. No way. But flash fic…oh hell yeah.

So I wrote it.

And because I type so fast, I wrote, edited and got through my second draft in about an hour. Another couple passes and I’ll probably end up killing its magic rather than growing it.

That little experiment taught me that while I call myself a novel-writer, I can also write flash. But anything in between and readers will need a clothespin for their nose so they won’t have to smell the crappiness of my work. Funny, huh?

Actually, not really. It took me some hard thinking to figure out how I could possibly write ultra-short so easily. I’d assumed it’d be agony to go from novel down to flash, but really, it wasn’t.

Because I write my books scene by scene. They’re micro-stories in themselves. They don’t stand on their own, but they are mini-stories. Applying that skill, plus the fact that most of my scenes chime in between 1 and 3 thousand words, it’s really not much of a stretch (or in this case shrink) to stay under 1K.

My greatest nemesis at this moment is finding the time to churn these things out. I’m up to my eyeballs in workload and backlog at the moment, but perhaps in the New Year, I’ll have some to post to my website.

I’ve already started a list of story ideas, characters and opening sentences that’d work for ultra-shorts. I can’t wait for a moment to really work on them!

And today marks the first day I’ve gotten the nerve to wear my geese with stripes shirt. I wish I had a camera handy so that I could snag a pic of it and post it to my site. The shirt fits great and there’s geese…and stripes…on polyester. What more could a girl like me ask for?

Word Constipation

One of the ways I know I’m a writer is that ever since I was in high school, if I didn’t write in my journal if not on a story, I’d start to get antsy–sort of like when you’ve had waaaaay too much caffeine in too short of time and your hands start to shake.

Well, for me, my hands shake like I gotta get all the words out. They may not be good words, necessary words, interesting words, but words nonetheless and they have no business being locked inside me when they should be on a page somewhere either physically or electronically.

I’m experiencing this phenomenon today, right now as a matter of fact! If I’m not careful, this entry could end up being several thousand words long. Lucky for both of us, I’m at least reasonably careful.

And I really don’t have much to say, I just needed to get my fingers in motion and get out some of these gol’darn words!

Let me also explain that writers block is much different than word constipation. I never get writers block. I just plain don’t. I’m willing to write a million words of crap until I find where I’m supposed to go. Cutting is easier than adding. Plus, if you already have your book plotted, you know where everything needs to happen and how its going to happen, so there’s no reason to stare at a blank screen, wondering…you already know. I never start a book without at least the first half plotted and the ending decided upon.

Writers block steals time. Word constipation happens when there’s no time to write. See, by having writers block, you’re already sitting there, ready to go, but nothing’s coming. Word constipation happens over time, and there’s plenty coming, but you’re not sitting there, ready to go…no matter how much you want to be!

I know, I know, I should be doing something useful…like writing another novel [I’ve pushed the current one onto the back burner because it needs to simmer a while longer] or building another ugly shirt, but hopefully not as ugly…or even updating my website. Well, I did build a sitemap. That’s something, isn’t it?

Funny how I’ve been getting time in short blasts like this one while I drink my tea, but I can’t find a long enough chunk to get anything else accomplished. Oh well, I suppose that’s the real root of my word constipation. But I’m working through, feeling better now that I’ve written this entry about nothing.

Oh wait!!!! I just thought of something that I’d wanted to post up here. A little about process and why I do things the way I do them. And I learned this from being on a panel at LosCon and then thinking through my own processes.

When Jen and I write as Ashleigh Raine, she’s better at emotional stuff and I’m better at action. We’d just taken that as a rule and worked with our strengths and weaknesses. I can write a damn good demon brawl or car chase, while she can write the big, beautiful climactic hero and heroine admit to each other that, yes, indeed they are hopelessly in love.

As I said, we used to just see this as the way things are and work with it. Well, while listening to Barbara Hambly at LosCon as she mentioned hand-writing certain things because it forced her to slow down and really get into the work, I realized that she was on to something.

I write much faster than Jen. A few posts down, I wrote about being able to write at least 2300 words in an hour. She’s not quite as fast…which is why she captures the emotion better. While writing a car chase, if you put in too much emotion, the scene grinds to a snail’s pace. While writing a climactic love admission scene, if you hurriedly skim over the emotion, there’s not enough depth and the reader doesn’t buy that they’re really in love and might even throw the book across the room because of that.

So, I did a little experiment to see if typing speed had anything to do with all of this.

It did.

I wasn’t surprised, but yet I was. Also, to see if there was much difference, I paid more attention to my thought processes and how I was juggling characters and plot while the words were going onto the page. But, I found that writing action by hand made it–for lack of a better term–suck. Everything came out even flatter than an emotional scene at full speed typing. And the emotional scene was beautiful.

I have since resolved to write everything at full speed for continuity–and because I don’t really write romances unless I’m writing with Jen–then, I’ll print the manuscript and do my editing while paying extra attention to the emotional scenes to the extent of perhaps rewriting them by hand on the printed copy. That seems to be my best course of action for improving my writing. Hopefully, someday, it won’t be so complicated, but at least I’m aware of this particular weakness and am working toward correcting it.

And in the mean time, Ashleigh Raine has a story coming out in a few more weeks in which one of my other strengths is showcased: BAD poetry and alliteration. Click here for an excerpt. But be warned that although campy, the language is strong and not suitable for people under 18 years of age.

Aaaaahhhh… I’m feeling much better now…

I autographed a robot

Before I explain the title of this post, let me first relay my very first autographing experience:

As half of the Ashleigh Raine writing team at my very first Romantic Times convention a few years ago, I was asked for an autograph. I was beyond the valley of thrilled. The woman was excited, too, as she dug through her bag for…

…???her palm pilot???…

I cocked my head sideways in wonder as she scrolled through her ebooks to find Mesmerized and then paged through to get to the Ashleigh Raine story, Magic In The Works. The whole time I was mesmerized by the magic of technology and calling my writing partner over to…uh…sign an autograph.

I’m still bewildered and amazed that my very first autograph was on a palm pilot. Turned out the woman’s palm allowed notes taken over the screen. I think she mentioned that she wanted our latest work autographed even if it wasn’t out in print yet.

Honestly, by the time Jen and I got through the official autograph signing, we were old pros, but that very first book did feel strange…singing on *paper* of all things!

As an added bonus to our original bewilderment, Jen and I had only scribbled our names on the palm pilot .pdf title page, so later in the conference, we asked for it back so that we could personalize it and stuff. What a way to get started.

…And well, back to the title of this post…

At World Fantasy, David Levine was getting robot parts autographed for a charity auction giveaway and as I was scribbling Ashleigh’s name, Jen’s name and my name, all I could think about was that this wasn’t the most bizarre thing I’d autographed and that it was ironic that other than books, the most memorable things I’ve signed have been purely geeky items and I absolutely love that!!!!

Verbally Sparring with Graham Joyce

I’m still reeling from the experience. He was one of the World Fantasy Convention’s guests of honor, for goodness sake, but that didn’t stop me. No siree.

As part of a giant group, Jason and I were invited out to dinner and drinks. When I sat down, I was between Jeremy of Night Shade Books and Jason, with Graham Joyce and other important people at the table behind me. I was in awe of being invited let alone being there and not told to go sit at the kiddy table because I wasn’t allowed with all the grown-ups.

Anyhow, deep in conversation with Jeremy, the next thing I know, he brings Graham into the conversation.

Now, I’ve seen the guy at a few panels during the convention, know that he’s the guest of honor, read some of the blurbage in the program, but honestly, I’d yet to discover his books and had already planned to go home and purchase one or two.

But when Graham–guest of honor and incredible writer extraordinaire–tells me that he doesn’t think women should write naughty books or have naughty thoughts, I’m sorry, but I gotta say a thing or two about that. (Plus, the sparkle in his eye had me thinking that he was game for a good spar.) We shared a few exchanges in good fun and then Jeremy rescued me. Whew! (Quite honestly, I think I might have accidentally won the sparring somehow, but that wasn’t my intention. A good spar is hard to come by no matter what the topic and who the opponent.)

That was a wonderful, exhillerating little experience for me, but I hope I didn’t piss anyone off. I mean, the genesis of the whole conversation was erotic romance and all the involved parties were married–most with his or her spouse sitting one chair away–but some people get touchy when talking about sex. Funny how in fiction, you can murder millions, but throw in some sex and everything’s in an uproar. I suppose I’ll never understand.

Afterward, Jeremy asked me if I knew who Graham was and if I’d spoken with him before. Yep and nope. I take people at face value. Character or not, if you’re going to smile and joke with me, I’m gonna smile and joke right back. It’s really that simple. I don’t care who you are.

I’m lousy at kissing up.

Truthfully, I once had a job where during my review it was requested that I socialize more, and there was an underlying impression that “socializing” meant “ass kissing”.

I was laid off a few months later. Oh darn. If I weren’t writing, I might miss that job. Hmmm…actually–the job: yes, the people: hell no.

Stay tuned for more adventures. I need to find my notes…

In the mean time, it’s very good to be back home.

Pen names

Yeah, I write under a pen name… Two in fact.

Some people do it for privacy reasons. Like they’re deep undercover writing erotic romance while living in the Bible belt or teaching third grade…maybe even both.

Some people do it because their real name isn’t memorable or doesn’t have a nice ring.

Some people do it because they don’t like their real name.

Some people do it because they’d rather go by a different name.

I’m sort of a combination. My real name, Lisa, is okay…sort of a dime-a-dozen growing up so I’d rather have a different name. After too many misdirected shouts on the playground from kids who wanted to play with ‘the other Lisa’ or teachers scolding ‘the other Lisa’, I’d kind of retired it in my head anyway. Yeah, Lisa is my name, but I don’t get upset when people call me, “Hey you.”

I took my last name from Jason when we got married. Thus, I became Lisa Stoddard. Yeah, it’s not bad, but it’s also not good. I mean, there’s another Stoddard who writes science fiction. Jason isn’t related to the guy, but the name is too similar.

See, this is where the necessity for a pen name comes in…recognition. I don’t want anyone confusing my work with Jason’s. It’s totally different and if you pick up a Jason Stoddard book expecting a Lisa Stoddard story, you’re gonna be extremely disapointed and vice-versa.

I mentioned that I write under two pen names. That’s only half true. My other pen name is a shared pen name. My best friend and I write as a team under the name Ashleigh Raine. Yeah, we could’ve put both our names on the books, but Ashleigh Raine just sounds so much better and it also has sentimental significance for us.

Now, on to my pen name. Well, in the Ashleigh Raine books, my favorite character to write is Twyla Emerson. If Ashleigh hadn’t been published first, I’ll bet my pen name would be Twyla Emerson, but I’m also glad Ashleigh was published first because I can’t imagine that particular character with a name different than Twyla Emerson. I mean, she’s been a part of my life since high school.

High school… That leads me to being the Raine half of Ashleigh Raine. When I doodled out stories all those years ago, if I didn’t have a set female character name, I used Raine. That’s why the pen name Ashleigh Raine works very well for when I write with my best friend.

Back to high school… There was another character whom I’d noodled out various stories about, but she had a full name… Rina Slayter.

What better pen name than from a character I’ve written since high school? Becoming her in the flesh and mind means I’m ruthless, strong, tough, ass-kicking and intriguing on the outside, but mysterious, sweet and deeply hurt on the inside. Lots of flaws to challenge, play with and work around.

And if the author herself isn’t interesting, how the hell is her work supposed to be? Writers write what they know…

There you have my story on writing under a pen name…and a half!

Prize positioning

So, tonight I’ll be going to a rather snooty wine pairing dinner for which the dress code is formal. No biggie. Jason’s got the tux he got married in and I’ve persuaded him to buy me some gowns.

Well, the gown I was gonna wear tonight was too long so I had to have it shortened. Once again, no big deal.

My chuckle came in when I went to pick up the dress.

Y’know how when you go to a snooty restaurant, there’s always nice cars laying around the entrance. I’ve had this happen with my Prowler, Viper, even one of my old classic Mustangs. I still chuckle, but whatever.

When I went to pick up my dress, it was ever-so-prominently displayed in the front.

I guess dry cleaners like to keep the nice stuff up front, too…makes the clientele look snootier. I dunno. It could’ve been a coincidence, but still. I was amused.

My website is coming rather well. I still have a welt on my forehead from banging against my laptop, but the site ain’t half bad. I might be able to upload in a week or so. Hopefully sooner, but all in all, not bad. For a little while there, I was beginning to wonder.

I must start thinking

I gotta figure out what I’m gonna wear to the World Fantasy Convention.

For most people [or at least Jason] packing for a conference is simply open the suitcase and toss a bunch of clothes in it.

But for me…well…it’s not that simple. The last time I tried the open-suitcase, toss-stuff-in method, I ended up with a bunch of clothes, but nary a single outfit. See, my wardrobe is huge and mostly full of weird clothes that barely go with themselves let alone with other pieces.

I have geese with stripes for goodness sake.

And fuzzy, bright blue flamed pants.

And a sci-fi swirl dress.

These are not bits that I’d want randomly tossed into a suitcase for an event where I have to look at least somewhat competent.

I realize there’ll be a certain quantity of time when I’m Jason’s second-fiddle-playing arm ornament. But there’s also going to be time when I’ll be Rina Slayter, author extraordinaire. I gotta come up with stuff that reflects both of those roles simultaneously. I don’t want to hide a spare hat in my bag and switch per role. It didn’t work in acting class, so why should it work in life?

So, once again, I’m in a quandary. How bizarre should I go?

For RWA, I painstakingly plotted out what I was going to wear when and I felt pretty good…like even if I wasn’t altogether with it, my clothes gave the impression that I was. That was good enough for me and I want to continue that tradition.

So here I am, holding up my $30 Armani and a metallic nylon Chinese top while shrugging my shoulders.

Guess I’ll need to wait until the deadline is closer and there’s more pressure.

Thus renewing faith in myself…

I just now figured out how to add links to my sidebar.

Not that I’d been trying and failing for eons. I’d simply never looked.

But mainly what that little endeavor has done is renew my own faith in my web-programming skills. (Not that I’m a programmer, nor want to be, but simply I have now confirmed that I truly do know enough to be dangerous.) To put the links there, I had to physically go into the code and add them. I’d assumed it’d be either a chore or I’d do what I’d thought was right and then refresh and my blog would be gone.

But I done good. Yaaaaay! Go me!

Now I get to figure out if any of that newfound knowledge will actually help me with the Rina Slayter site.

It’s coming along. I learned a ton yesterday–all by accident.

…Well, that is if I “accidentally” banged my head against my computer for three hours…

It all comes down to determination.

And getting smarter than the problem.

Good golly I’m back

I had a fantastic vacation. Came home sick with a cold, but happy as a clam.

I’ve been back a day and I’ve already managed to ruin a new skirt… This was a replacement for the one I ruined last month after RWA National. Perhaps this is the real reason I shop at thrift stores…every time ‘spend the money’ for something new, it’s never as good as it should be. And what’s the fun of shopping if the funky, unique blue shirt you like is available in fifteen sizes. Doesn’t that mean it’s not really unique and one-of-a-kind? There’s fifteen in the store–add up how many stores–that’s a lot of people wearing your unique shirt, huh?

Whoa, I digressed there, didn’t I? Let’s just attribute it to my head cold. I feel like my head is normal size, but somehow someone shoved a bowling ball into it. Good golly, I just want this cold to drain away!

So, I made a surprising discovery today. It should seem like a ‘well duh’ kind of thing for part of it, but I did find the rest of it fascinating to say the least.

My local and favorite coffee shop [where I drink snooty tea while writing my novels] is having a month-long promotion where they’re giving away free tea between the hours of 1 and 3.

I’m sick. I’m grumpy. I’m looney.

…But I’m not gonna pass up free tea and an environment that might help me clear the headgoo away and get a scene written so I figure all’s gonna be great.

I get there and I’m still miserable! I grimace at my laptop. I sip my snooty tea. Grimace again.

Maybe the novel wasn’t gonna get attention, but my journal…oh my journal needed to hear exactly how fed up I was with being sick. Oh yes.

My journal got an earful…er…screenful.

But that’s not the fascinating thing about all this. See, I’d happened to look at the clock when I started writing. (I rarely ever do.) It was 2:19. By the time I’d looked again, it was 3:11, just after I’d received a short phone call.

Yawn…get to the good stuff, right?

Well, I kept writing until 3:19 rolled around and I discovered that in an hour, I was capable of writing at least 2300 words.

2300 words.

All it required was passion.

2300 words. That’s a book in roughly 2 days if I didn’t stop to eat, sleep or take a wiz.

And all that was required was passion and my laptop? Wow! It was like I saw my life with a new set of eyes. I’d previously thought I wrote about a thousand words an hour, so sometimes, if I didn’t quite have an hour, I wasn’t quite motivated to write because when I write, I like to WRITE.

But now that I know what I can get done in an hour, I’m wondering why the hell I’d made any excuse ever. Sure, if the passion isn’t quite as high, my productivity will go down, but coming down from 2300 words in an hour, I’m sorry, that’s not enough to care about.

I’ve got another hour before Jason gets home…guess I should go write something, huh?

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