Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts

Saturday, August 5, 2023

Just a bit of a flashfic ... spicy! AND NO CHICK!

I just had a lil idea after dinner the other night, and popped out 500 words...

omfg. AI art is SOFA KING STUPID. I asked for a dozen variations of spicy pepper, hot pepper, and it always gave me a hot chick. This was "Jalapeno monster". She has nothing to do with the story. I wanted a literal anthro pepper. I'm including this just to bitch about it. I know if I found the right tool, and had the right keywords, I could maybe get something that isn't tryign SO DEPERATELY to be a hot chick, but is it worth it? No. Screw that. On with the story-
- - -


        The chemist carried heavy black tongs with heavily gloved hands. He wore welding goggles, which I found myself envious of. If one squinted, you could see that the tongs were carrying a container. A metal cylinder, with flat sides, making it more hexagonal from above.

Mounting the tongs to one edge of the table, the container was suspended over his week’s food supply.  Bringing out a wrench, he called to me, “Make sure you’re secure. Somewhere you’re not liable to trip and fall or something.”


“Is it going to… push me?”


“Nah, it’ll just be hard to see for a bit. Hang on.”


“What?” It was already so bright! The chemist clamped the wrench onto what I now saw was a lid. He heaved and strained. As the lid began to loosen, the brightness in the room became omnipresent. 


I heard the loud clunk of the lid landing on the floor.


The brightness was such a shock, it took a while to realise it had come with sound, like a hurricane was escaping from the container, now resonating all about. I heard the light fixtures shatter, but this made no impact on visibility.


I hollered over the cacophony, “You should have lent me welding goggles like yours!”


“With it open now, the goggles… they do nothing!” His goggles landed on my hand - not for me to wear - just as proof that he wasn’t wearing them anymore. It didn’t stop me from trying them on. It was true. The goggles, my eyelids, nothing was impeding the light. If you’d told me it was bypassing my retinas, and just stimulating my brain’s optic centres directly, I would have believed you.


I heard metal move, and where I knew the container to be, I saw a single drop fall. It was somehow brighter than the surrounding light. I couldn't call it a different colour. I couldn’t only reason that it was a different frequency somehow- but that was almost assuredly too simple of an explanation.


The drop fell onto the supply of food. I assume that’s what happened, but only because it stopped falling, and I knew that’s where the food was.


I heard the chemist grunt, and the drop was broken. Smeared apart in one direction, then the other.


“Here!” the chemist called out as I felt a tool press against my hand, “Help me bury it!”


As we both attacked the food, trying to mix and bury the liquid, then mix and bury again and again, I eventually realised that the horrendous sound was dying down, and the brightness was subsiding, slowly.


“Almost,” the chemist said in a soothing tone. When he decided we were done, the food glowed silently in the otherwise dark room. “Hang on, I’m going to go get my eating calipers.”


He actually planned on eating it. I knew that was the plan, but it still seemed like madness. “I think I saw the time knife.”


He chuckled. “Yeah. That’ll happen.”


“Most people are fine with sriracha.”



As always, go by my site Ozero.ca, or right to my amazon author page to check out my novels... which have nothing to do with all of this.


Thursday, September 9, 2021

Your writing voice, and BEING CORRECT.

In a writing group on FB, someone posted a snip of their WIP. People gave a lot of feedback, myself included, but several points made, (often with a great deal of conviction!) could easily have a counter-point that I felt would have been just as valid.

For example, someone pointed out 'head hopping' going on. I'm kind of blind to light head hopping, and am fairly guilty it that myself...

I tend to think of it as "the narrator takes the side of whoever did something last." ie:

-----------------------------------------

"Give me your lunch money!" Dave commanded. Usually, this was enough to score a buck or two from Timmy. He complained less than he used to. Good Timmy.

"You know I have to eat, don't you?" Timmy knew Dave didn't care. Frankly, Timmy didn't care a lot either. He'd given up, and kept extra money in another pocket just for this kind of situation. That didn't make handing over a buck and a half any more fun, but it prevented getting beaten up later.

-----------------------------------------

 
Is that head hopping? I guess so. Does it bother me? Nahhh.. does it bother readers? IT BETTER NOT, OR I'LL SEE THEM AFTER CLASS!!!!!

I guess my overall point is that you have good flow, and aren't making MASSIVE ERRORS, a lot of aspects come down to taste. NOTE- Don't make excuses for crap calling it your style. It is a skill to determine the difference at times. If it kinda bugs you a bit at the moment, but "It's okay like that.." there's a good chance it isn't okay like that, and will bug you when you read it years later.

There comes a point where you're just fine-tuning your voice. One person will tell you not to use the word 'said' to tag dialogue, the next will tell you that said is an 'invisible word' that gets in the way less, and everything in between. I've gotten a lot of mileage out of just leaving a quoted chunk of dialogue in close proximity to an action, and leaving it up to context to help tell the reader to understand who's talking.

-----------------------------------------
 
Tired of Dave's bullying, Timmy fled. "Bite me!"

------------------------------------------

 
That said, I am a heavy user of "said" unless something else expresses the mood notably better.

Tuning ao many aspects like that are going to depend on your voice, and the scene.

and 2 months after publishing, you'll decide you made all the wrong decisions. And you'll be right. And wrong.

CongratulaI'msosorry.

Wednesday, August 11, 2021

Poggers.

 English, like any language, is subject to change and evolution over time. This is fine, and fascinating. From nouns being used as verbs, and slang becoming entrenched in the zeitgeist, I'm all for yeeting obsolete dogma. While still being able to recognize and utilize the old rules as appropriate and when needed.

Now and then this unbridled evolution can give us a bear with razor-encrusted tentacles flowing from the sides of its neck. Should it be observed? Certainly. Should it be accepted? How does it behave? Does it steal pick-a-nic baskets and shred campers? Observe, maybe run. Maybe dust off and nuke it from orbit.


Where do we draw the line between "suck it up, language changes and also sometimes facets of our culture have their own entire vernacular" and "This is horse-apples"?
Can you gronk it? Should you gronk it? Will not gronking it harsh someone's vibe? Would inadequate gronkage rob you of something fly or poggers?



Monday, August 9, 2021

Comma, Comma comma. Comma?

 In "writing thoughts no one asked for, and anyone who cares already has an opinion" #43857333, subsection commas 7434.

The line-

"Dad carried Ella and Grandpa carried the bike."

I changed this and put a comma after Ella. Why? When you read it, you understand properly what's going on. BUT... a comma does separate the thoughts.

Mid-way through the sentence, especially if you're not reading with strict attention, in a rush, stoned, whatever.. for a moment, your brain MIGHT be picturing Dad carrying Ella and Grandpa.

This is of course, idiotic. The comma isn't NEEDED. But its inclusion makes it more readily digestible.

This particular example is for work (name changed, obv) and the reports I edit are to be usable in fast, easy references by law types, but for my own prose, I don't want readers tripping as they read, even a little- (unless I want to slow them down for a reason, but there's smoother ways to do that). I over-use commas if anything, but if the clarity is at stake, I'll suffer a few too many commas over a few too... few.

This message has been brought to you by commas. Commas: for home, office, camping, or Oxfordian lists. Now available in wingding!

Wednesday, April 22, 2020

Write a book, darn you! Outlines and plotting in your pants.

My job in the real world is 'facility attendant' as a seniors' activity centre. There's karaoke, there's bridge, there's tai chi, table tennis, and on, and on. But covid's got stuff such down. Which leads to bored/isolated seniors. The activity co-ordinator has taken it upon herself to do these newsletters to help. She asked if I could throw something in, and knowing I write, she asked if I could put together a bit about writing for bored seniors. I whipped something out. I've done talks on it, and contributed to books about it, but I figured others might get some use out of what I wrote for the newsletter... Here we go!

--------------

I used to write little short stories for fun, but the idea of writing a full book seemed like an insurmountable feat I would never dare to challenge. But one day, I ended up with a short story I liked enough to write 2 sequels and a prequel for. The sum of them formed the blocks to my first novel. As much as I still like that book, through my own fiddling, and talking with other writers, I've come up with a bit of a system to make it easier.

I was taught about outlines in school, but it always seemed like such a tedious waste of time. It can feel like that when your assignment is half a page, but if your goal is a hundred or more pages, it gets a lot more useful. There's writers who are 'plotters' who plan everything in detail before they get into 'actual' writing, and there's 'pansters', who fly by the seat of their pants. That describes my first book, I suppose, but now I'm somewhere in between a plotter and pantser.

Once I have my basic idea, I separate it into single line plot points- just to keep me on track. I'll use a cliche for an example-

-Dragon steals princess from castle
-King puts out a notice for a hero
-Bob sees the notice, and talks to king, gets directions
-Bob goes to fight dragon, wins, yay.

Each one of those lines could be described for pages and pages, possibly a meaty chapter.

Line one might turn into describing the town, the castle, the princess going about her daily routine, an omen as the skies turn dark, and a screech is heard. You can go onto as much detail as you feel like, and stretch thigs out. Of course, there's a risk of dragging things out too long, so making sure what you're describing remains interesting enough to support the length can be a tricky balance. This is an instance where brutally honest feedback comes in handy.

The most important thing to remember is that your outline is not a prison. Maybe you get a new idea as you're writing chapter 2, and decide Bob loses to the dragon, and ends up having to go questing for some magic weapon, or the directions were useless, or the king was in on it, getting the princess kidnapped for insurance money. Maybe it wasn't a dragon, maybe it was 5 trained apes in a dragon suit. You can easily end up with something that bears only the slightest resemblance to the original outline.

Honestly, one of the main purposes of an outline is to set markers to make the entire process of writing a book seem like less like one huge task, and more like manageable bites.

Once you've come to an ending, read it. Over and over. Being able to see your own flaws is a trained skill. When you already know what something is SUPPOSED to say, you subconsciously 'auto-correct' typos, plot holes, and awkward parts that aren't explained well. Self-editing can only go so far. When I think I have a book perfected, that's when I hand it to people I know who will be BRUTAL in finding errors, and honest, not sparing my feelings. Nothing is ever complete- I've had pro editors take a swing, and typos still get out. They say the best way to find an error is to publish, but it's up to the author and/or publisher to weed out as many as possible. Even 'the big guys' have this issue. There comes a point when you have to say 'good enough'.

But once it IS good enough? Then publishing is the next step. It can be as humble as having a single copy made for yourself, as ambitious as getting an agent and chasing the big traditional publishers, and anywhere in between. But that's a whole other topic...

Sunday, January 31, 2010

Rant against non-lineral story telling.

1,2,3,7,8,9,3 That's how my daughter counts. Cute? Sure. Informative or useful? Not so much.

Know what hollywood fad cheeses me off, that they SEEM to finally be pretty much done with? Non linear story telling.

Sure, many of them do it simple... start with a massive exciting or interesting scene, then closeup to the protagonist:
"I guess you're wondering how I got in this situation..." Aw man, here we go again.
Rewind 3 weeks, watch from the REAL beginning of the story until you get to the point where the movie started, blah blah. If you can't write an interesting actual starting scene, don't feel the need to jerk me around and pad the movie by 15 min with a replayed sequence. Heck, a lot of books do that too.

CHAPTER 1
EXCITEMENT, PUZZLING EVENTS!! HERO LIGHTS A FUSE ON A BOMB UNDER A GIANT ALIEN CYBER MULE!!!

Chapter 2
50 years earlier: (and you're lucky if they bother telling you that this isn't just a confusing continuation from chapter 1)
"I was a dirt farmer. Most people think that means I farm for stuff that grows in the dirt, but no, i just farm dirt. Ever try to get dirt to grow? I tell ya, it ain't easy."

Shut up, shut up, shut up! I don't care! I was ready to see a giant cyborg donkey blow up! Screw this, skip ahead, skip ahead. Second last chapter? Aww screw it. Where's my playstation controller?

If you wanna get deliberately confusing, you can keep throwing in unannounced flashbacks, or worse, SOMEONE ELSE'S FLASHBACKS, and while you're at it, don't ever show the flashbacks in the order they happened. These kinds of gimmicks just scream "I NEVER HAD A STORY WORTH TELLING TO BEGIN WITH" Why don't you just write a fanfic of Voyager, or some other unoriginal time travel shlep?
It's late, I'm cranky. My household has one member less today, and my cat won't stop farting. Kthx, bai.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

The Ant-Hating Ant-eater

The following is my 'homework', assigned to me by the Writer's guild I meet with monthly. The criteria was a story about an anteater who couldn't stand ants.
(once again, blog format has forced me to use double returns instead of indents. sorry)



“FLEE!” Antonio screamed to the others near the exit of the hill. “The serpent returns!” It had been almost half a moon since the serpent had attacked. Many of Antonio's closest friends had been taken that day. Antwon, Anthony, even dearest Aunty Antonella, among countless others were pressed between the serpent's sticky body and the tunnel walls, only to find themselves helplessly stuck to the serpent as it retreated.

Beyond all the rest, the soul-shredding shriek of his true love Antoinette had haunted him the worst, keeping him awake far more often than even memories the slim, sticky serpent itself. Antoinette had been crushed by a cave-in during the attack, but lived long enough to have her dying body dragged out of the hill by one of the serpent's many strikes.

And now it was back. Antonio was ready for it. The others laughed when he trained for combat, laughed as he taught himself to stand on only four legs, so that he could wield a sharp twig as a weapon. “Come, monster! By Antoinette, I will SLAY you this day!”

***

Ack. That was even worse than the last time, two weeks ago. The little buggers taste like shit, and as insane as it sounded, Herbert would swear that one of the brainless twerps was trying to stab his tongue with a tiny stick or something. Herbert was grateful for that in an way. Even a stick tasted better than any ant.

Putrid little things. A couple months ago, Herbert had found a great source of termites. They had some real flavour! After the big rainstorm, the wood's subtle taste almost marinated them alive. Even 'untreated', the termites were a welcome alternative to those dirt-dwelling little snots.
Unfortunately, the humans wanted to add their own spice to the termites. After wrapping the house in a huge tent, they pumped something into it. It was quite fatal to the termites. Herbert saw this as quite foolish. For one thing, it meant that the termites couldn't make any more termites. And after that, do you want to know how many termites the humans ate?

None.

Not a single one.

Herbert had decided that he should gobble up as many as he could before they were wasted, but upon trying the first one, he found it to be quite inedible. He spent the next two hours dragging his tongue against the dirt, eating grass, anything to get rid of that taste. It was even worse than ants. This was likely why the humans didn't eat of the termites. They should have tried their spice on just a few of the termites before saturating them all with it.
Damn, humans are bloody idiots.

Herbert had, on occasion, been lucky enough to find a dead grasshopper. They're far too quick to catch live of course. They didn't taste all that amazing, but if he could choke it down, it would keep him going for a while without having to go back to an anthill.
Spiders were not an option Herbert liked that much. They usually sat in their webs. Have you ever tried to catch a spider with your tongue while it's in its web?. Don't.

This didn't seem like a life befitting him. His brother was happy sucking dirt for ants, and thought Herbert to be some kind of snob. Look at our bodies! Such a narrow nose, and such a large tail. Sometimes when he ran, Herbert felt like he was a living weapon. Zip! Zip! STAB! Take down an elephant, like a huge arrow!
Oh there's a lovely thought. Dislodging one's head from the side of a dead elephant.

Outcast from the other anteaters, Herbert trodded along aimlessly. Ahead, he spotted something he had never run across before. A farm. Around the side that faced him stood a modest fence. And inside? A group of fellow animals... of some kind. They were not much bigger than Herbert, but were hairless. They had pinkish skin, little twirly tails, and stubby snouts that looked entirely inadequate for eating. He walked up to the fence, and saw that some of them were eating from a trough in the middle of the yard. He called over to one who was standing near the fence.
“Hey. Hey pink thing! What are you?”
It snorted and looked over to Herbert. “I'm a capricorn, what the heck are you?”
“I'm an anteater. Technically. I'm kinda hungry though, would you mind if I came in there and had some of that capricorn food? What's in it?”
The capricorn furrowed his brow. “Corn, and...” he looked over to the trough for a moment, then back to Herbert. “Stuff.”
Stuff. That didn't sound too bad. Herbert fumbled his way between the widest gap in the fence that he could see, and stepped up for a taste. The other capricorns were staring at him, but they didn't seem to particularly mind that he was there. They'd warm up to him. This 'corn-and-stuff' wasn't too bad!

Once Herbert had his fill, he backed off, trying to decide what side of the fence he'd sleep on. Could this be his new home? Could these capricorns accept him as family, or was that just wild optimism?
Just then, he felt a sharp pain. Maybe he had gas, maybe the corn-and-stuff didn't agree with him. Maybe he was allergic. That would be so disappointing. Thankfully, he was not allergic to anything. Unfortunately, he coughed up blood. (and corn). And lots of both. He fell down, rolled onto his side, and as the capricorns looked on with curiosity, Herbert convulsed violently and gagged. His final breath came with one last sputter of blood, bile, and corn coming from both ends.

The capricorns stared silently. They stared at Herbert, they stared at each other, and they stared at the trough.

The silence was broken by a tiny sound from the mess around Herbert. A tiny movement, as a tiny black arm reached up holding a tiny sharp stick. Antonio the ant emerged. Antonio stood in this vast plain of blood, vomit and pig filth, surrounded by 'capricorns'. He dropped his tiny weapon and cried out, “Oh god, This is the light at the tunnel?!”

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

To the Vancouver Library! Skytrain adventures ahead! Whee!

Tonight I'm heading out there for a MEETUP meeting with a small collection of random writer-ey people. Looks like a healthy mix of novelists, short-story.. ists, and poets. It dawned on me a while ago that I should be more connected to the local writing pulse... or something.

So now I look forward to a roughly 2 hour trip by bus and by skytrain from here. Which brings up the questions of wheelchair accessibility. My route leads me out of Granville station to the street.

Half a decade or so ago, my wife and I were nastily surprised to find out (while in a hurry, of course) that there was no elevator at that station. Most skytrain stations are set up quite nicely for wheelchair access, so we were frantically looking around the underground section, poking doors, looking for the lift. Time ticking away, we stopped someone to ask. We got a couple "I dunno" responses until we came across someone who knew, and had no good news on the topic.

So, back on the train we go, to the next station, then dash to our appointment. I hadn't forgotten the experience, but when the automated yet oft-dubious trip-planner for the bus routed me through Granville, (with the accessibility option turned on) I figured that my memory must have been of another station.

But today, I was rambling about my trvael plans, and my wife says "Granville? They don't have an elevator I think....!"

"No?"

"I don't think so, remember that, voop-" and she made a hand gesture that made me think she was hailing a cab for Hitler or something. After a little prodding, I figured out she was talking about the steep, steep escalator at the station. With a standard escalator, I can drive myself into it, hang onto the railings, and I can get up pretty easily, (even if the people behind me are concerned about getting crushed) but this one was step enough that I wasn't going to chance it, even with my wife there to assist.

Mind you, this was a 'long time' ago, in terms of where my skill level was... I'll have to have a peek today and see if it looks less daunting now. Still, I don't want to be betting on it.

So I called the transit line to confirm my fears, that the oh-so-clever trip-planner had aimed me at a dead end. The fellow I eventually got on the phone, (who sounded like he'd just finished making sweet sweet love to his morning coffee) told me an elevator had been installed there roughly a year ago. I can't imagine where... it's a darn cramped station. But I'll take ole coffee mater's word for it.

Wish me luck, for I face transit!

Later in the month, I'll be going to similar meetup, but it's a 10-minite bus ride away, on familiar territory.

Friday, August 21, 2009

Obsessive? OCD-ish? Me? Naaaahhhh....

One mister Dueckman commented to me this ev... er, last evening, (I really thought it was friday, not thursday, or I wouldn't have gone out)... he said I get a little obsessive over things.

True enough.

Exhibit A: Some time ago at his place, I watched a Rammstein concert on his big honkin' TV, and since then I've become a big fan of Rammstein. As long as I don't worry too much about the lyrics. They sing 95% in German, and I've found that lyrics I don't understand allow me to concentrate better on things like writing. They're easier to ignore. Now and then, I look up a translation for a song. Half time time I discover it's really not something I'd want to be listening to, nor for any German-speaking person to hear me listening to. Thusly, when the German student I'm hosting is around, you bet I use earphones.


My wife got understandably sick of my brining up Rammstein at least a couple times a day. So, I looked into music by other German rock bands. Die Krupps sing mostly in english it seems. No thanks. 'Oomph' sings in German a lot, but they're.. too pretty. After the guttural vocals, and wall-of-guitar and synth that the flaming (literally, not in the gay way) Rammstein offered, these other bands were like eating mayo after developing a taste for grapefruit. So I'll kepe listening to Rammy, and just shut up about it. Right after this. I promise. I guess.

Exhibit B:Video games. It might root from my younger years, when I got roughly two, maybe 3 NES cartridges a year, but I'm picky about games. I still get games that I know will last me a long time. Usually I'm more or less stuck into one game at a time, and I get stuck deep. Since I got my PS3, this has meant over a year of Oblivion, then half a year of littleBIGplanet, and most recently about half a year of Fallout 3. Each one, in turn, became topics my wife got sick of.


Exhibit C
: Creative hobbies. Once upon a time, I was huge into music composition. I released over 200 tunes in the 604 area back in the day, the bulk of which were techno, with a little orchestral, and other genres. Rowan Lipkovits called me the msot prolific creator in the areas code. Note that he didn't say BEST.


Then I rediscovered art of the visual variety. The result can be sampled in the art section of my website, as well as various graphic works and contracts that ave happened over the years. The art led to image descriptions, which led to short stories, which led to books, which I have trouble shutting up about. You'd think that would feed well into some ability to self promote.


Verdict: Yeah, I might be a TAD obsessive. Shucks. Darn. I consider it as appreciation of a topic, a full immersion. Many of my obsessions are a waste of time. Arguably, all of them are. But to quote Phillip J. Fry, "You can't waste my time, my time is worthless!"

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Yute progress, and elvish angst.

Quite a while ago, I wrote a scene for the book that I knew would come waaaaay later, and it sat at the bottom of my document (along with various notes and reminders) waiting for the main flow of writing to catch up to it. It was missing a few names and details, but I loved it.
I kept on writing, and knew that scene was coming up. Finally, I flowed into it. It needed a lot of edits to fit just right, but it still went well. It's a scene of one of the significant confrontations, and puts one of the major storylines on it's path to closure.

Dang I'm being ambiguous. I don't know how many spoilers I want to make public... heck, in the first edition of Lifehack, I didn't even want to reveal until the last second possible that there was a human to blame for all the zombies, but that was silly.
At some point, I'm going to have to give away some big plot points to make the book sound interesting. Otherwise, the back flap of the book will read:

In a world, where something happens, and other things don't, one man, or woman, I'm not telling, will have to do some thing or things. Or try not to do them. In the process, he or she may find love, adventure, and a big sammich. Or he/she won't.

I might call on my volunteer editors to help me decide some of that.. We'll see. Right now the book is only 160 pages. I was hoping to get to 230-ish.. I think that's still very reasonable, when I consider all that still have to be tied up, and that this is only the first draft.
A few people said that Lifehack seems to rush though the story. This was a fairly conscious decision. Personally, I hate books that ramble on and mosey through at a snail's pace.

I think of Tolkien's epic descriptions of Strider going out for a smoke into the sullen alley, where the smell of burnt greasy burgers drifted over from the burger king 3 blocks away, and the sky had 384 stars visible in it, which we will all now name in elvish song, whilest Strider picks his nose with his left pinkie finger, which to the draven folk is considered a fell err, ever since Nosebleed Hemophelicutter died at the great nosepick in the first age. At this point, Strider might have gotten as far as patting his pockets looking for his pack of smokes, and the smoke break goes on for 47 more pages, and NOT A ****ING THING ABOUT HIS SMOKE BREAK HAS ANY ****ING IMPORTANCE TO THE STORY.

Ahem. Point is, I like to get to the point sooner rather than later. Still, I'll probably elaborate on some parts when I revise.

Yeah.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

The week alone. Writing Yute, watching Watchmen, and the L word.

Thursday morning, 3 am. My wife and baby (toddler?) have been out of town since Sunday morning, and will return Saturday afternoon. They’re escorting ‘Radar’ as she checks out a couple universities on the other end of the country.
This leaves me solo for nearly a week. “I can write my head off!” I thought. Well, yes. Not as much as I thought, since I got a homework list that has eaten into my writing time. Still, it was stuff that would be difficult to accomplish with kiddo bouncing around.

A few hours were spent when I went alone to go see Watchmen. I don’t know if I’ve been to a theatre alone before. For a few moments, I worry that I looked like some lonely loser with no friends, but it was midday, and my friends have these freaky things called jobs.
Watchmen itself was really neat. Three things I heard about it were verified for me. It is NOT for kids. Do NOT see it with your parents, regardless of your age, and I can now see why they say the original comic was genius. I’m ashamed to say I’ve never read it despite knowing about it for over a decade. If the movie is any indication, it is subversively political, dramatically gripping, at the same time insightful (and slightly self mocking) of superheroes.

As for Watching Yute. So far I haven’t attained the kind of page count boost I’d been hoping for this week, but what I have gotten out has been good. Freedom to churn ideas back and forth casually without the fear of a smelly diaper walking in the door, or the tight timeline of sychning meals and sleep with other people is good for creativity.

I’ve reverted to my ‘natural’ semi-nocturnal sleep cycle. (go to sleep around 4 am, wake up around noon) This means I’ll have to get back into the regulation timetable on Saturday.. I can’t decide whether to try to ease into it, or to keep going like this, and just suck it up cold turkey when the time comes.. but given it’ll be the weekend, I guess that’s a little flexible.

Anyway, the pagecount is now nearing 160, (again at a 6”x9” trade paperback format), and judging from the place in the story, it’s quite probable that Watching yute will be about the same size as 230-ish page Lifehack.
I was hoping very much to have it done for the next Vancouver sci fi convention, but taking into account time to refine, and pass through my volunteer editing staff, an October release might not be possible. We’ll see. Can’t rush it just for Vcon.

Oh, I finally saw an episode of “The L word”. As it turns out, it was the final episode of the final season. (no spoilers ahead, just in case) I knew very little of what was going on, but pieced a lot together by context. I can see why “Shane” is a fav character among many of the real life lesbians I know. Shane’s kinda hard to describe. All in all, I can’t say I liked the show. I did read that the final episode was a huge disappointment to longtime fans, but it seemed like layer upon layer of gossip, mistrust, and “she said, she said”. And for a final episode, it left a tone of loose threads untied, and unleashed a new huge mess that could have been the topic for a whole season.

I guess I’ll stick with Battlestar Galactica. There’s still a good five years left in that show, right? Right? Huh? This friday? Really? And it’s over? Oh…… ok. On to Sarah Connor then.


PS: My cat is going crazy. I don't know if it's my changes to the timetable around here, of if she misses the ladies, but the cat has gone nuts.

Saturday, October 20, 2007

Lifehack revision at 100%!!! Kind of.

I finished my read/revision that I've been counting off percentile from.. But there's more work to be done...

Right now the pagecount is down to 255. (8 bits! whoo!) This is from the first edition's 293 pages due to:
  1. Deletion of the 25-ish page extras section, (It was kinda unprofessional feeling)
  2. Bumping the font down one notch, (It was a tad biggish)
  3. Refining paragraph formatting to include less white space
And there were many other format standardizations that I either followed form the industry, or at least made consistent through the book. One good thing about the lower page count is that the cost will go down. The cost will also go down since I won't be setting the sticker price to include a lot of things like retail store costs, or an ISBN. (I don't need no stinkin ISBN)

Of course, the hardcover version will be more than the trade paperback version, but I'm not ready to quote prices just yet.

Just to note- I won't be ordering a mass of stock like I did with the first edition. I'm not marketing much beyond my area, and just about everyone who'd buy a copy already has, so I'm not going to be ramming the 2nd edition down people's throats. When the time comes, I'll take specific orders from people, plus a SMALL handful for my own stock, and what will be my exclusive retail outlet, Heron's Books. It will NOT be available online via Lulu or Amazon, etc.

This is to minimize the impact of being self-published should I wish to attack bigger publishers with the book, and the 2 others that take place in the same world. "Yes, Mr pubisher, I self-published the book, but unless you're really super worried about the Pitt Meadows market, I don't think it's an issue."

Anyway, back to the work left to be done:
  1. Add a couple small scenes and references,
  2. Inform the reader WHERE the book takes place in the world,
  3. Re-vamp the chapter headers
  4. New foreword
  5. 'Finalize' the trade paperback cover
  6. Order ONE book for sending around to my new highlighter-equipped editing force (this will be a slow step, as I'm going to send it though as many people as possible)
  7. While this is underway, finalize the hardcover cover, and continue writing another project (either Watching Yute, or 'wasn't worth the parking space')
  8. When the editing copy gets back to me, go over it, correcting the master manuscript,
  9. Take orders, and order the books!
Then, I can finally put Lifehack to bed.

Friday, October 12, 2007

Lifehack passed 90%, Ghost ridge, every day shooting.

The lifehack revision passed 90%. I can see the finish line..! LEt's all keep in mind though that after that, I still have to send a copy around to my new volunteer editing taskforce. I'm not going to hold my breath while that happens, so it'll be a good time to attack other writing projects.

I'm torn between my 3 options.
-Continue "Watchihng yute" which is at about 75% done the first draft,
-Attack "Lucy Doesn't get it" more, (Which SHOULD be a pretty small project.. ha..)
-Hack away at "Wasn't worth the parking space" my gimptacular semi-autobiographical... thing.

Maybe I'll just let my whim take me about them all.... I'm attacking Lifehack hard right now because it needs to get done, and get finished, and I can finally put the first story on the shelf, and not have "azu-1:Lifehack" nagging me so badly. Yes yes, a creative work is never DONE done, but AZU1 needed help badly.

Aside from fixes, I've also added a few neat scenes that flesh things out, and I've come clear a bit out WHERE Autar, Meston and Yute are, which lays a bit of groundwork for Watching Yute, and the third book.


In MeadowRidge Optimist news, things are going gangbusters on the ghost ridge project, which is pretty much taking all out attention right now. Did I mention before that I'm slated to be an actor for the show? As a gory yelling victim. Whee! I might be able to fend of Ninjas on a regular basis, and mash up people's ankles with the greatest of ease, but that doesn't make me any more menacing as a guy in a wheelchair jumping out saying 'boo'. I'm gonna need a lotta energy drinks to get through this thing... it goes on for a week...!

Our past president still wants us to go in with the Coquitlam club's Walk for youth, but I think by far the majority find november to be too short of notice to do it justice, and we're also eager to do our own thing. The walk itself (our own) will probbaly end up happening next spring, giving us loads of time to make connections for participants through schools and such.

My PS3 has been a happy camper lately. While waiting for "Oblivion: Game of the Year Edition" (oct17) so I can continue the saved game from the original version which I rented for a friggin month, I've been doing a little warhawk... It's a neat game, but not really my thing. I got it mainly because of the deal I snagged on it, and the free headset thingamabob.

Yesterday was a good update for the PSN... MY fav downloads yesterday?
-Video teaser for 'Fallout 3' (fall 2008) Made by the same guys who made Oblivion
-Demo for the new 'Ratchet & Clank' game
-Downloadable purchase ($10) of 'Everyday Shooter'.. Simple controls, OLDskool code-driven graphics, and addictive as heck... and somehow amidst all the action, strangely mellow due to the soundtrack and musical sound effects..

Saturday, July 21, 2007

Writing slowdown factors

The revision continues, but two main factors are slowing things down.

1- My baby Caitlin. I really can't begrudge this at all... damned lovable lil thing. Having my
concentration shattered by a fuss-up, and/or having to shut down work for her can be frustrating for a moment, but such feelings are quickly dissolved a moment after I get close to her. Right now her and mommy are camping with her side of the family across the border, so that factor isn't slowing me down right now.

A bit before this trip, my wife Michelle went across the border to go shopping. On the way back, they gave her hassle over the baby. "blah blah percent of kidnappings are by a parent." Geez, fine... but who kidnaps a kid, goes into another country, and then comes back? Alright, I guess our family unit could have been traveling to the states, and Michelle kidnapped Caitlin to go back into Canada.. but whatever..

They kinda treated her like an idiot for not knowing they would have liked a NOTARIZED letter from me saying they had permission. This trip she also brought our nephew. His mum got a notarized letter.. We only did a non-notarized letter, and a "call me if you really need to." I haven't heard form anyone, so I'm assuming things went well... at least on the way down...

2- PS3. (yay!)
A little over a week ago, a couple friends came over for pizza before a movie..
Ryan:"Michelle, you have to get Joe a 60 gig PS3 soon."

Um, I'm gonna sit back and see where this goes....

Michelle: "oh yeah? Why's that?"
Ryan: "The 20 gig's already been discontinued, and the 60's just had a $100 price drop. There's a 80 gig coming that will probably be more expensive, but it's arguably an inferior machine, since it won't have the Emotion Engine chip, which is the way the 20 and 60 play ps2 games- with real ps2 chipsets. The 80 is going to emulate that in software, so the compatibility for ps2 will likely be somewhat less. It's expected the 60 will be discontinues too, once they clear them out."

Michelle digests Ryan's babble for a moment, sitting back in her chair... "Well... I am going to the states tomorrow, and the exchange rate is darn near par right now..."

Blink blink. Did I hear that right? Ryan turns to me and puts his hand up for a high five. "Who's your best friend, man?"



So yeah, the time regained by the family being away has been damaged by my new toy a bit...


Mind you, I tend to be productive in bursts. Call me the machine gun. Controlled bursts.