Sunday, October 29
In more industry-related news, it appears that Publishing Discriminates Against Men.
The writer of this post has unassailable logic behind him: after all, he's a man, and no one will publish him.
I suppose it was only a matter of time. Writers across the board like to blame others for their rejection letters. And it is true that there's an increasing number of female literary agents, female editors, female writers, female... well, females, all around. It's the kind of thing that makes the gonads of a certain type of male retreat into his upper body cavity: my gods, they're women! And they have power over me!
Because it's Sunday and I feel like eviscerating someone, let's examine Mr. Borelli's logic.
1) Louis L'Amour couldn't get published today, because he was a man who wrote for men.
It's entirely possible L'Amour couldn't get published today. He wrote mainly Westerns, a dying genre, and he wrote relatively short books which probably couldn't get published in today's market. Though, having read a bit about L'Amour, I suspect he'd have quite cheerfully written longer books in a different genre. The man was a realist.
I read L'Amour quite cheerfully as a teen, and liked him; he wrote good, fun stories with likable characters, including the women -- not exactly Buffy-esque girls, but not fainting daisies by any means. And, ah, guys? You read it for the guns and the steel-eyed cowboys. We read it for the romance. That was why L'Amour was such a successful writer: he knew how to appeal to a wide audience.
Perhaps Mr. Borelli needs a new example of a Manly Man who writes for Men and couldn't be published today. L. Ron Hubbard springs to mind. Oh, wait -- Hubbard sucked so much he had to start his own religion to get his misogynistic epic published. So... eh... Ian Fleming?
2) Mr. Borelli is getting rejected because he is a man writing for men.
A cursory examination of Mr. Borelli's writing suggests there may be a far simpler reason for his rejections. When a first chapter consists almost entirely of young, gorgeous women stroking and announcing their reverence to the main character (whose name bears a striking resemblance to Mr. Borelli's chosen pen name), one begins to suspect that this is a character who should be run past a Mary Sue Test. The secret society claptrap doesn't help. Writing-wise, we're looking at the dreaded First Chapter Expository Dump with the typical problem of too much tell and not enough show. And as a woman, having the entire purpose of women so far be worshipping men is... offputting? Yes. That's a good start.
Having female (only female ones? Really, Mr. Borelli?) editors criticize the book with terms like "male fantasy" and "male point of view" does not mean, as Mr. Borelli seems to think, that women dislike reading about sex from the man's point of view. It means that women are not all that interested in reading a book in which there are no actual women, but rather caricatures of what a man wants a woman to be, and, frankly, many men find this dull as well. Likewise books with caricatures of what women want men to be: I've been known to dent the wall with such books before now. The essential problem here is not gender discrimination. It is unreality. I read books for an enjoyable and sometimes thought-provoking window on the world, not to view someone's petty distortion of reality into what they think it should be.
And, finally....
3) More women than men read because not enough books are written by men for men, because all the books are being produced by women for women.
According to Broad Universe stats, of the books published in 2000 in the SFF genre, 67% were by men. Editing in the same year was more even -- 55% men, 45% women.
I'm not sure too few male authors and editors is the problem here.
(For bonus credit, scroll down in the Broad Universe link to the percentages of men vs. women authors who get awards. It is most enlightening.)
The stats on just how much of the fiction readership is female varies from 55% to 80% - a survey cited by In These Times says that the SFF readership in the same year, 2000, was 52% women, or roughly 20% more than women authors -- but everyone agrees: there are more women readers than men. This is not a new problem. Fiction reading has been considered a frivolous feminine pastime since the 19th century. In the 70s LeGuin was writing essays complaining that men were trained to perceive fiction (or, indeed, any type of imagination) as effeminate, and things haven't improved much. Men are reading -- most nonfiction goes to male readers -- but they're reading stuff that's "real", not that wishy-washy fiction nonsense: reading car magazines, and sports magazines, and science books, and business books. They're watching football and war movies and wrestling and porn. You know, stuff that reflects the REAL world.
(Side note: most of the men I know, and therefore most of the men reading this blog, do not fit this pattern. I apologize for the stereotyping. You guys are da bomb.)
The point is that the men who are already reading fiction (are da bomb! No, wait) are by definition not part of the group Mr. Borelli is claiming has been alienated from fiction because of all the girl cooties, and the men who don't read fiction aren't going to be tempted back by his manly ways. It's not the lack of male fiction that has alienated them. It's the very act of imagination.
And incidentally, the answer to Mr. Borelli's question "Are men less literate?" would appear to be yes. This does not surprise me. Where I went to school academic proficiency in boys was cause for great suspicion among other boys, parents, and even teachers: they were at best nerds, at worst "fags". If you had to be male and smart, you'd better be smart at something like science or math, or your fate was sealed. Small wonder guys put their focus in school on being popular or athletic rather than getting good grades. But let's belittle our pitiful excuse for an educational system some other time; the post's getting long.
More men than women are authors. More men than women are editors. More women than men are readers, but an increase in "manly" literature isn't likely to change this. It's not the books. It's the reading.
Mr. Borelli? No offense, but you don't have a leg to stand on here. Your lack of publication to-date has nothing to do with gender politics and everything to do with your unwillingness to accept well-meant criticism and your decision to keep writing self-indulgent sexist fantasies despite their artistic questionableness and lack of market. Maybe there's some equally self-indulgent sexist fantasies being written by women and getting published (though frankly, I've never seen anything this bad), and yes, that is unfair. But then it's not very fair that I can't go into a bar without getting backed against the wall by some drunk Casanova and have to bleed crabbily for four days out of every month. Life isn't fair.
Stop whining and blaming your failures on others. Write something people male and female will want to read. And fucking grow up.
The writer of this post has unassailable logic behind him: after all, he's a man, and no one will publish him.
I suppose it was only a matter of time. Writers across the board like to blame others for their rejection letters. And it is true that there's an increasing number of female literary agents, female editors, female writers, female... well, females, all around. It's the kind of thing that makes the gonads of a certain type of male retreat into his upper body cavity: my gods, they're women! And they have power over me!
Because it's Sunday and I feel like eviscerating someone, let's examine Mr. Borelli's logic.
1) Louis L'Amour couldn't get published today, because he was a man who wrote for men.
It's entirely possible L'Amour couldn't get published today. He wrote mainly Westerns, a dying genre, and he wrote relatively short books which probably couldn't get published in today's market. Though, having read a bit about L'Amour, I suspect he'd have quite cheerfully written longer books in a different genre. The man was a realist.
I read L'Amour quite cheerfully as a teen, and liked him; he wrote good, fun stories with likable characters, including the women -- not exactly Buffy-esque girls, but not fainting daisies by any means. And, ah, guys? You read it for the guns and the steel-eyed cowboys. We read it for the romance. That was why L'Amour was such a successful writer: he knew how to appeal to a wide audience.
Perhaps Mr. Borelli needs a new example of a Manly Man who writes for Men and couldn't be published today. L. Ron Hubbard springs to mind. Oh, wait -- Hubbard sucked so much he had to start his own religion to get his misogynistic epic published. So... eh... Ian Fleming?
2) Mr. Borelli is getting rejected because he is a man writing for men.
A cursory examination of Mr. Borelli's writing suggests there may be a far simpler reason for his rejections. When a first chapter consists almost entirely of young, gorgeous women stroking and announcing their reverence to the main character (whose name bears a striking resemblance to Mr. Borelli's chosen pen name), one begins to suspect that this is a character who should be run past a Mary Sue Test. The secret society claptrap doesn't help. Writing-wise, we're looking at the dreaded First Chapter Expository Dump with the typical problem of too much tell and not enough show. And as a woman, having the entire purpose of women so far be worshipping men is... offputting? Yes. That's a good start.
Having female (only female ones? Really, Mr. Borelli?) editors criticize the book with terms like "male fantasy" and "male point of view" does not mean, as Mr. Borelli seems to think, that women dislike reading about sex from the man's point of view. It means that women are not all that interested in reading a book in which there are no actual women, but rather caricatures of what a man wants a woman to be, and, frankly, many men find this dull as well. Likewise books with caricatures of what women want men to be: I've been known to dent the wall with such books before now. The essential problem here is not gender discrimination. It is unreality. I read books for an enjoyable and sometimes thought-provoking window on the world, not to view someone's petty distortion of reality into what they think it should be.
And, finally....
3) More women than men read because not enough books are written by men for men, because all the books are being produced by women for women.
According to Broad Universe stats, of the books published in 2000 in the SFF genre, 67% were by men. Editing in the same year was more even -- 55% men, 45% women.
I'm not sure too few male authors and editors is the problem here.
(For bonus credit, scroll down in the Broad Universe link to the percentages of men vs. women authors who get awards. It is most enlightening.)
The stats on just how much of the fiction readership is female varies from 55% to 80% - a survey cited by In These Times says that the SFF readership in the same year, 2000, was 52% women, or roughly 20% more than women authors -- but everyone agrees: there are more women readers than men. This is not a new problem. Fiction reading has been considered a frivolous feminine pastime since the 19th century. In the 70s LeGuin was writing essays complaining that men were trained to perceive fiction (or, indeed, any type of imagination) as effeminate, and things haven't improved much. Men are reading -- most nonfiction goes to male readers -- but they're reading stuff that's "real", not that wishy-washy fiction nonsense: reading car magazines, and sports magazines, and science books, and business books. They're watching football and war movies and wrestling and porn. You know, stuff that reflects the REAL world.
(Side note: most of the men I know, and therefore most of the men reading this blog, do not fit this pattern. I apologize for the stereotyping. You guys are da bomb.)
The point is that the men who are already reading fiction (are da bomb! No, wait) are by definition not part of the group Mr. Borelli is claiming has been alienated from fiction because of all the girl cooties, and the men who don't read fiction aren't going to be tempted back by his manly ways. It's not the lack of male fiction that has alienated them. It's the very act of imagination.
And incidentally, the answer to Mr. Borelli's question "Are men less literate?" would appear to be yes. This does not surprise me. Where I went to school academic proficiency in boys was cause for great suspicion among other boys, parents, and even teachers: they were at best nerds, at worst "fags". If you had to be male and smart, you'd better be smart at something like science or math, or your fate was sealed. Small wonder guys put their focus in school on being popular or athletic rather than getting good grades. But let's belittle our pitiful excuse for an educational system some other time; the post's getting long.
More men than women are authors. More men than women are editors. More women than men are readers, but an increase in "manly" literature isn't likely to change this. It's not the books. It's the reading.
Mr. Borelli? No offense, but you don't have a leg to stand on here. Your lack of publication to-date has nothing to do with gender politics and everything to do with your unwillingness to accept well-meant criticism and your decision to keep writing self-indulgent sexist fantasies despite their artistic questionableness and lack of market. Maybe there's some equally self-indulgent sexist fantasies being written by women and getting published (though frankly, I've never seen anything this bad), and yes, that is unfair. But then it's not very fair that I can't go into a bar without getting backed against the wall by some drunk Casanova and have to bleed crabbily for four days out of every month. Life isn't fair.
Stop whining and blaming your failures on others. Write something people male and female will want to read. And fucking grow up.
Saturday, October 28
For those of you who don't yet understand why many people flinch violently at the mention of Publish America, I suggest you read this review. Actually, read it no matter what. It's damned funny.
Somewhere out there is a woman sitting and confidently waiting for the money to roll in, because she's been told that she was a "hidden talent", kept from stardom only because of the stupidity of the big publishing company. Because she's been assured that "PublishAmerica is NOT in any way a POD, vanity press, or subsidy publisher, and has nothing in common with them." Because she's been "selected" by this real publisher, one that would look her work, would even "assign an editor who will spend time going through the text" -- and (judging from other PA author's stories) told her she was just so talented, she didn't need to change a word.
And on the reader's end... well, by the simple law of averages, PA is probably putting out some good stuff. But who wants to risk getting this? Much safer to pick up something from a real publisher. It might be trite, overdone, even downright bad -- but it'll be half the price for a book twice as long, and at least it'll be literate.
Bah. Need alcohol now.
Somewhere out there is a woman sitting and confidently waiting for the money to roll in, because she's been told that she was a "hidden talent", kept from stardom only because of the stupidity of the big publishing company. Because she's been assured that "PublishAmerica is NOT in any way a POD, vanity press, or subsidy publisher, and has nothing in common with them." Because she's been "selected" by this real publisher, one that would look her work, would even "assign an editor who will spend time going through the text" -- and (judging from other PA author's stories) told her she was just so talented, she didn't need to change a word.
And on the reader's end... well, by the simple law of averages, PA is probably putting out some good stuff. But who wants to risk getting this? Much safer to pick up something from a real publisher. It might be trite, overdone, even downright bad -- but it'll be half the price for a book twice as long, and at least it'll be literate.
Bah. Need alcohol now.
Monday, October 23
I meant to write over the weekend. I really did. But instead I was sidetracked by my own peculiar version of cat-vacuuming, which means y'all have a new random generator to play with.
I present to you The Character Etch-A-Sketch.
Why did I feel the need to make a random description generator? Well, basically:
a) I was tired of all my minor characters showing up with a description of "sort of medium-ish with brown hair", and
b) I grew up in a little town populated almost entirely by Scotch, Irish, and German settlers who'd been inbreeding like crazy for a century or two, which means despite my travels I have trouble coming up with a variety of physical appearances, and
c) No one can scour the feline quite as thoroughly as I can.
I hope it's of use to someone but me. Feel free to comment on it in this thread.
I present to you The Character Etch-A-Sketch.
Why did I feel the need to make a random description generator? Well, basically:
a) I was tired of all my minor characters showing up with a description of "sort of medium-ish with brown hair", and
b) I grew up in a little town populated almost entirely by Scotch, Irish, and German settlers who'd been inbreeding like crazy for a century or two, which means despite my travels I have trouble coming up with a variety of physical appearances, and
c) No one can scour the feline quite as thoroughly as I can.
I hope it's of use to someone but me. Feel free to comment on it in this thread.
Saturday, October 21
Bored. Procrastinating. Haven't posted in ages.
Um... meme?
1. Explain what ended your last relationship. He wanted no-commitment sex, I hadn't yet learned that I fall in love with anyone I sleep with, things ended predictably badly. At least I finally had the sense to end it myself. Learned later that he'd been cheating on me, but really, that was just salt to the wound at that point.
2. When was the last time you shaved? ...last year sometime? I dunno. Occasionally I get a fit of bad self-image and shave my pits, but really, me and razors? Not a good combo. And I'm frankly too lazy for the sustained effort shaving requires.
3. What were you doing this morning at 8 a.m.? Making like a log. Until the alarm went off, anyway. Curse you, foul contraption!
4. Were you any good at math? Eh. Not terrible, not great. No retention of skills whatsoever; I doubt I'd recognize a calculus equation these days if it bit me in the butt, although anything biting me in the butt is, on reflection, unlikely to be a calculus equation.
5. What were you doing 15 minutes ago? Either catching up on Battlestar Galactica (note to self: order anti-depressants), putting food in the oven, or playing Nexus Wars. I dunno. Clocks are foul contraptions too.
Food in the oven! ARGH!
6. Your prom night? ... Oh yay. Not burned.
Prom night? I was homeschooled, but I've heard of those. Some kind of torture session, right?
7. Do you have any famous ancestors? My aunt once paid someone to say we were related to some guy named Lafayette -- no, not that Lafayette, some other one who did something or the other during the War of 1812. Supposedly my last name is a corruption of his, which is actually the only likely bit about the whole story. It made my aunt happy, though. She's that kind of person.
8. Have you had to take a loan out for school? No. My extended family has money in an unassuming kind of way; they put me through college. Which was damned nice, I must say, and freed me from the silly obligation to "get a good job" using the magic piece o'paper and allowing me to use my years in college for the unique purpose of learning.
Not that I have Opinions on the educational system er anything.
9. Do you know the words to the song on your myspace profile? I will get a myspace profile when -- eh, actually? Even mild torture would do it. But voluntarily? Not so much.
10. Last thing received in the mail? A catalog from Heifer International. Go Heifer International! If I had money I might even give you some!
11. How many different beverages have you had today? Just water. The evil milk truck driver came and sucked away all my milk before I got to work. Curse the name of the milk truck driver! (Actually, I can't remember the name of the milk truck driver, so even if I was good at cursing he'd be safe.)
12. Do you ever leave messages on people's answering machine? Sure. In many cases I view this as superior to speaking to the actual person. See: Evil Contraptions.
13. Who did you lose your CONCERT virginity to? Jimmy Buffett. Yes, really. If you don't count the dozens of music festivals I attended from toddler age onward.
14. Do you draw your name in the sand when you go to the beach? No. I prefer making Easter Island faces. Or, better yet, playing the Wave Chasing game. But I haven't been to the beach very often, and about half the ones I have been to had no sand.
15. What's the most painful dental procedure you've had? Beats me. I haven't been to a dentist since I was six, because they wouldn't stop threatening my mother about how Dire Things would happen if I didn't get braces. So far the only Dire Thing has been an occasional cut on my inner lip from the jutting tooth. Frankly, if the choice is between two years of pain, sub-brace cavities, mouth sores, and no apples, and the occasional self-inflicted cut, I'm all about the bleeding.
16. What is out your back door? Porch, grill, backyard, and a bunch of very insolent deer.
17. Any plans for Friday night? Since I work most Saturdays, nope.
18. Do you like what the ocean does to your hair? I've only been swimming a few times in the ocean, and always with scuba gear. For the record, I don't like what scuba gear does to my hair (mostly, get caught in it).
19. Have you ever received one of those big tins of 3 different popcorns? It's possible a clueless relative gave us one once, but I doubt it.
20. Have you ever been to a planetarium? Not since I was ten.
21. Do you re-use towels after you shower? Is this some kind of trick question? Does anyone who does their own laundry actually use a new towel for every shower?
22. Some things you are excited about? World Fantasy, successful playing with PHP (more on this later), having a day off tomorrow, potentially getting time enough to write soon.
23. What is your favorite flavor of JELLO? The kind with fruit in is okay. Not really a Jell-O person.
24. Describe your keychain(s)? It used to be a great big green thing so I couldn't loose my keys. But I lost it. So now it's Dan's nifty flashlight-onna-keychain and one of those thingies that opens your car before you get there, in theory. This one is I think possessed by the Devil.
25. Where do you keep your change? In theory, in my wallet. In practice, in my wallet, in the car, on the coffee table, in various tupperware containers, on the floor where I dropped it.....
---
Hrm. My memory says there was something about "two words" in this meme originally which seems to have been lost by the time I got it. Oh well. I never was good at brevity anyway.
More posting soon. Need to go kill a guy on Nexus Wars.
Um... meme?
1. Explain what ended your last relationship. He wanted no-commitment sex, I hadn't yet learned that I fall in love with anyone I sleep with, things ended predictably badly. At least I finally had the sense to end it myself. Learned later that he'd been cheating on me, but really, that was just salt to the wound at that point.
2. When was the last time you shaved? ...last year sometime? I dunno. Occasionally I get a fit of bad self-image and shave my pits, but really, me and razors? Not a good combo. And I'm frankly too lazy for the sustained effort shaving requires.
3. What were you doing this morning at 8 a.m.? Making like a log. Until the alarm went off, anyway. Curse you, foul contraption!
4. Were you any good at math? Eh. Not terrible, not great. No retention of skills whatsoever; I doubt I'd recognize a calculus equation these days if it bit me in the butt, although anything biting me in the butt is, on reflection, unlikely to be a calculus equation.
5. What were you doing 15 minutes ago? Either catching up on Battlestar Galactica (note to self: order anti-depressants), putting food in the oven, or playing Nexus Wars. I dunno. Clocks are foul contraptions too.
Food in the oven! ARGH!
6. Your prom night? ... Oh yay. Not burned.
Prom night? I was homeschooled, but I've heard of those. Some kind of torture session, right?
7. Do you have any famous ancestors? My aunt once paid someone to say we were related to some guy named Lafayette -- no, not that Lafayette, some other one who did something or the other during the War of 1812. Supposedly my last name is a corruption of his, which is actually the only likely bit about the whole story. It made my aunt happy, though. She's that kind of person.
8. Have you had to take a loan out for school? No. My extended family has money in an unassuming kind of way; they put me through college. Which was damned nice, I must say, and freed me from the silly obligation to "get a good job" using the magic piece o'paper and allowing me to use my years in college for the unique purpose of learning.
Not that I have Opinions on the educational system er anything.
9. Do you know the words to the song on your myspace profile? I will get a myspace profile when -- eh, actually? Even mild torture would do it. But voluntarily? Not so much.
10. Last thing received in the mail? A catalog from Heifer International. Go Heifer International! If I had money I might even give you some!
11. How many different beverages have you had today? Just water. The evil milk truck driver came and sucked away all my milk before I got to work. Curse the name of the milk truck driver! (Actually, I can't remember the name of the milk truck driver, so even if I was good at cursing he'd be safe.)
12. Do you ever leave messages on people's answering machine? Sure. In many cases I view this as superior to speaking to the actual person. See: Evil Contraptions.
13. Who did you lose your CONCERT virginity to? Jimmy Buffett. Yes, really. If you don't count the dozens of music festivals I attended from toddler age onward.
14. Do you draw your name in the sand when you go to the beach? No. I prefer making Easter Island faces. Or, better yet, playing the Wave Chasing game. But I haven't been to the beach very often, and about half the ones I have been to had no sand.
15. What's the most painful dental procedure you've had? Beats me. I haven't been to a dentist since I was six, because they wouldn't stop threatening my mother about how Dire Things would happen if I didn't get braces. So far the only Dire Thing has been an occasional cut on my inner lip from the jutting tooth. Frankly, if the choice is between two years of pain, sub-brace cavities, mouth sores, and no apples, and the occasional self-inflicted cut, I'm all about the bleeding.
16. What is out your back door? Porch, grill, backyard, and a bunch of very insolent deer.
17. Any plans for Friday night? Since I work most Saturdays, nope.
18. Do you like what the ocean does to your hair? I've only been swimming a few times in the ocean, and always with scuba gear. For the record, I don't like what scuba gear does to my hair (mostly, get caught in it).
19. Have you ever received one of those big tins of 3 different popcorns? It's possible a clueless relative gave us one once, but I doubt it.
20. Have you ever been to a planetarium? Not since I was ten.
21. Do you re-use towels after you shower? Is this some kind of trick question? Does anyone who does their own laundry actually use a new towel for every shower?
22. Some things you are excited about? World Fantasy, successful playing with PHP (more on this later), having a day off tomorrow, potentially getting time enough to write soon.
23. What is your favorite flavor of JELLO? The kind with fruit in is okay. Not really a Jell-O person.
24. Describe your keychain(s)? It used to be a great big green thing so I couldn't loose my keys. But I lost it. So now it's Dan's nifty flashlight-onna-keychain and one of those thingies that opens your car before you get there, in theory. This one is I think possessed by the Devil.
25. Where do you keep your change? In theory, in my wallet. In practice, in my wallet, in the car, on the coffee table, in various tupperware containers, on the floor where I dropped it.....
---
Hrm. My memory says there was something about "two words" in this meme originally which seems to have been lost by the time I got it. Oh well. I never was good at brevity anyway.
More posting soon. Need to go kill a guy on Nexus Wars.
Wednesday, October 04
I am sleepy and stuff, so instead of a meaningful post I'm just going to point y'all at DailyLit. This is a very cool little site that will email you a bite-sized piece of your story of choice every day. So far everything is old stuff the copyright has run out on, but I have to say it's a great way to read the classics. I'm about halfway through The Wizard of Oz and have a list of half-a-dozen other "always meaning to read, never got around to" books from the site.
This makes me happy.
And now, the boring part:
Writing Progress:
Today's Progress: 514 words.
Comments: Have just realized that some of the "lack of focus" and "forced" feeling people are picking up in crits is probably because Elliot has no stake, as such, in what happens. He is an interested observer, nothing more, for the first half of the book. Bah! Why do I keep writing books where the really interesting stuff only starts halfway through?
Fix it on the rewrite, fix it on the rewrite....
Crappy Writing Skill De Jour: My main character has gone all cool and reserved and quiet on me. Can I bite him?
Snips: Trevor and Darien ran the entirity of the lazarine operation with, as far as he'd been able to tell from the Library's records the night before, minimal supervision from Edison. They were the logical suspects. For them to greet him with delight and tea was an annoying setback to his investigation.
This makes me happy.
And now, the boring part:
Writing Progress:
Today's Progress: 514 words.
Comments: Have just realized that some of the "lack of focus" and "forced" feeling people are picking up in crits is probably because Elliot has no stake, as such, in what happens. He is an interested observer, nothing more, for the first half of the book. Bah! Why do I keep writing books where the really interesting stuff only starts halfway through?
Fix it on the rewrite, fix it on the rewrite....
Crappy Writing Skill De Jour: My main character has gone all cool and reserved and quiet on me. Can I bite him?
Snips: Trevor and Darien ran the entirity of the lazarine operation with, as far as he'd been able to tell from the Library's records the night before, minimal supervision from Edison. They were the logical suspects. For them to greet him with delight and tea was an annoying setback to his investigation.
Sunday, October 01
So we spent much of yesterday wending through itty back roads and complicated directions to get to Ayer's Orchard, where we picked roughly 35 pounds of apples: Staymans, Fujis, Granny Smiths, and a few Golden Delicious even though I am in principle opposed to Delicious because these were, in fact, quite yummy. We loaded them all in the car and were about a mile from home when Dan said, "What is it you're planning to do with all these apples, anyway?"
"Make applesauce," I said, a little surprised.
There was a silence. One of those silences. Then Dan said, "I don't like applesauce."
Note to self: improve communication skills.
So tonight's dinner was baked apples (and tartiflette), and I just pulled a pan of apple bread out of the oven, and Dan's downstairs planning to make apple fritters as soon as he finishes his Sarah Zettel novel, and for most of yesterday and today we've been snacking on, oh, let's see... apples.
That leaves us with about 33 pounds.
Anyone who has recipes for putting up apples that aren't mushy like applesauce or apple butter? Please step forward now.
It's a good thing apples keep.
Writing Progress:
Today's Progress: 1,150. Woo!
Comments: Absolutely ghastly workweek meant I got very little done, and didn't get much made up on my weekend off either... but I am finally through chapter three. The big three chapters; the stuff agents and editors will see if and when this thing is ready to submit.
*looks at words* Hmm. I was expecting this bit to be over at about 10K. I may be looking at a longer book than expected.
Damn.
Crappy Writing Skill De Jour (An idea which I stole from Irysangel, because I thought it was cool):
Dear writerbrain:
I let you talk me into reading the dictionary for fun all those years because I thought there would eventually be a payoff. Now I am struggling through pages of writing, using the same stupid word ten times in a row because I can't think up synonyms, and you're off on a beach somewhere drinking pina colada. Please pony up.
Cheers,
Me
Snips: And lo, we have met Gwen, and Gwen is a snarky bitch.
"Well," Elliot said, recovering his balance, "you must admit it's somewhat unusual...."
"I never confine my activities to the usual," Gwen said. "It lacks scope."
"Make applesauce," I said, a little surprised.
There was a silence. One of those silences. Then Dan said, "I don't like applesauce."
Note to self: improve communication skills.
So tonight's dinner was baked apples (and tartiflette), and I just pulled a pan of apple bread out of the oven, and Dan's downstairs planning to make apple fritters as soon as he finishes his Sarah Zettel novel, and for most of yesterday and today we've been snacking on, oh, let's see... apples.
That leaves us with about 33 pounds.
Anyone who has recipes for putting up apples that aren't mushy like applesauce or apple butter? Please step forward now.
It's a good thing apples keep.
Writing Progress:
Today's Progress: 1,150. Woo!
Comments: Absolutely ghastly workweek meant I got very little done, and didn't get much made up on my weekend off either... but I am finally through chapter three. The big three chapters; the stuff agents and editors will see if and when this thing is ready to submit.
*looks at words* Hmm. I was expecting this bit to be over at about 10K. I may be looking at a longer book than expected.
Damn.
Crappy Writing Skill De Jour (An idea which I stole from Irysangel, because I thought it was cool):
Dear writerbrain:
I let you talk me into reading the dictionary for fun all those years because I thought there would eventually be a payoff. Now I am struggling through pages of writing, using the same stupid word ten times in a row because I can't think up synonyms, and you're off on a beach somewhere drinking pina colada. Please pony up.
Cheers,
Me
Snips: And lo, we have met Gwen, and Gwen is a snarky bitch.
"Well," Elliot said, recovering his balance, "you must admit it's somewhat unusual...."
"I never confine my activities to the usual," Gwen said. "It lacks scope."
Blogarama
