The End!

Today, I finished the first draft of my novel STEALING THE SUN.

It's not "done". It needs transcription (much of the final material was written longhand), rewriting, sending to agent, no doubt more rewriting, etc. But I finished the draft and wrote the words THE END.

Since I never thought I could get it done by today, my self-imposed deadline, I'm really feeling pretty damn self-satisfied just now.

Since the end of the semester, in my drive to finish this draft, I've learned that I don't have to be the kind of low-productivity, shallow-well-of-inspiration, needs a lot of time to recharge writer that I've been in the past. I can write 1-2 thousand words a day, to a previous outline, and the words will come. And the characters, when poked hard enough, will start running around and squawking all on their own. To me, this feels much more like being a professional. And that, again, makes me happy.

Also, today a House Finch visited my feeder -- yeah, ok, one of the most common critters around, but beautifully red-headed, the first finch at my feeder and a good sign for the eventual attraction of goldfinches, also common and even more beautiful. Even better, a California Thrasher was in the yard -- a bird that's been increasingly rare in my neighborhood lately.

Happy New Year!

Joy to the world

Some of the books I've read in the last year that have made me happy:

1610: A SUNDIAL IN A GRAVE, by Mary Gentle. Alternative historical fiction. Sexy, magnificently characterized, the best swordfight scenes in the business. Ought to appeal to people who liked SWORDSPOINT, but I think it's even better. I learned from this book how much I suck -- er, besides that, I took joy in learning that someone shares some of my squids -- er, I mean, someone is writing stuff that is similar enough to some of mine, despite being much better, that it gives me hope that mine will find an audience as well.

FIRETHORN, by Sarah Micklem. A first novel, secondworld fantasy. Traditional fantasy, but with a nice, engaging, 'small story' voice that is a nice contrast to the superepics that are more common. Anytime someone publishes a good first novel, I think, 'That could be me next time! Yay!' Might appeal to Bradley fans, but maybe to Martin readers as well.

THE ROPE EATER, by Ben Jones. Historical fiction about Arctic exploration. Creepy, dark, and a great unreliable narrator -- I can never read too many of them because I'm trying to learn to write them. Smart historical fiction! yay! Owen Parry is another author to look at for a well-done unreliable narrator.

BRIGHT STARRY BANNER, by Alden Carter. The best new Civil War novel I read this year. Well-researched, exciting, inventive. Most similar to UNTO THIS HOUR, but a little more twisted (yes, apparently that's possible). I love to see good Civil War novels get published, and not just because I'm trying to sell one just now.

TALES OF PAIN AND WONDER, by Caitlin Kiernan. Oh, can she write. She has a capacity for language use that sends chills down my spine, and it shows to its best advantage in short stories (although I liked LOW RED MOON and THRESHOLD a lot too). This is a collection of short stories, and if you like to read good short fiction, this is where it's at.

The existence of these works in my world makes me happy.

Shenandoah

We drove into the Valley in a hurricane, so I literally couldn't see as much as I wanted to.

But the trees, the fields, the green of everything, struck me with what felt like a shock of recognition.

We drove along the spine of the Blue Ridge for a while the next day, after visiting Port Republic. The storm was blowing over, with wild wind and deep mist, leaves and branches all over the road. I felt that I could dissolve into the mountains, into the ancient dark under the trees, and lose myself, and live forever. When we hiked down over shattered rock and fallen leaves to a waterfall, I walked almost in a trance, with secret dreaming images rising in my mind and old music ringing in my ears. I think if I lived there, I would write more poetry. Or learn to do magic.

I live among huge trees, in a beautiful part of the world, and I've spent plenty of time backpacking in the Sierras, but for almost a month after I came home California seemed a drab and barren desert to me.



Trib's War has been rejected now by three editors and remains with six. In the meantime, I'm working on Stealing the Sun. I expect to have a draft finished by the 31st. If I don't spend all my time reading SUNDIAL IN A GRAVE, that is.

Happy, happy squids.

--Kyri