tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190359542012-01-22T20:18:33.756-05:00musings of a fantasy writerBethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.comBlogger591100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-77160248980610253652011-09-28T16:00:00.001-04:002011-10-01T17:15:22.844-04:00

So if you're a swimmer (I'm not)(which won't stop me from using a swimming analogy)(after all, it's not "write what you know"; it's "write what you can imagine") (where was I? Oh yeah...) So if you're a swimmer, you'll know that when your head is under water you have to hold your breath. You'll also know that with practice and fitness, you can increase your lung capacity, but even so, there's a

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-36910103303429029862011-04-01T19:23:00.005-04:002011-04-01T20:36:47.656-04:00

It started with a dead parrot. Asim, captain of Jafar's guard, was fond of Jafar's parrot, a talented bird who "could mimic the master and his chief eunuch, and even sometimes answered the call to prayer by bowing thrice. He did this only when it pleased him to do so, which, as my nephew Mahmoud once noted, was far too much like many men he knew." But Pago the parrot turns up dead one day,

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-36220932659648592902011-03-31T09:58:00.001-04:002011-03-31T09:58:55.293-04:00

...my agent. Bob Mecoy of Creative Book Services (New York, NY) has offered representation. Bob spent twenty years as editor, senior editor, executive editor and editor-in-chief at various publishers:  Crown Books, Simon & Schuster, Morrow/Avon, NAL, and Dell/Delacorte. As editor he worked with Robert Parker, Sara Paretsky, Patricia Cornwell, Johanna Lindsey, Kathleen Woodiwiss, and many more.

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-50434069327115988752010-10-15T11:33:00.004-04:002011-03-06T20:00:02.864-05:00

There used to be a TV series called Boy Meets World, which was wonderful in many respects, not the least of which was the way it would occasionally break the fourth wall and make some meta-comment about itself. One of those instances was when main character Cory's little sister, a fairly constant if background presence, disappeared from the show for a long time. No one mentioned her. If was as if

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-8271358392985014742009-09-24T16:32:00.000-04:002009-09-24T16:32:56.423-04:00

I've started a new blog called A Thousand Words, as in "A picture paints..." It's a photo blog so you get the idea. (OK, I'll come up with a better title eventually.) I'm not a professional photographer or even a very good amateur. I'm a newb, but learning. I like to take pictures and occasionally I do something right, or at least get lucky. Link here.

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-30235887265092229532009-09-22T11:37:00.003-04:002009-09-22T11:46:39.454-04:00

Riordan exhaled sharply. It was the cusp of dawn on the cusp of autumn, a hallowed interval when summer and autumn poised motionless on the point of a knife, when the future hung suspended and irresolute. Through the ebb and flow of tension rose a light, excited feeling of anticipation, like the heartbeat of stilled breath before an arrow is released. In that moment, time always slowed, as

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-4492325391978596332009-08-07T00:45:00.001-04:002009-08-07T16:51:03.262-04:00

A piece of conventional wisdom that gets frequently passed around among writers is if a sentence is so long that it can't be read out loud without taking a breath, then it's too long. Of course, most times we don't curl up in our favorite chair with a novel and proceed to recite the thing aloud, but the idea seems to be that if sentences stretch on for too long, our mental gasps for breath can

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-48029615441814691122009-05-31T18:13:00.006-04:002009-08-10T14:04:25.702-04:00

I met Cindy Pon some years ago on the discussion forum at SFReader, shortly after my novelette "Dragon's Eye" was published. Some of my fellow contributors to the anthology hung out there, and one day Cindy showed up (as "Cyn") and started posting interesting, thoughtful, and uncapitalized messages. I could see right away that, besides her aversion to the shift key, Cindy was smart, fascinating,

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-12866828333768809682008-12-24T22:50:00.001-05:002008-12-24T22:52:18.770-05:00

Truly He taught us to love one another,His law is love and His gospel is peace.Chains he shall break, for the slave is our brother.And in his name all oppression shall cease. (from O Holy Night, by Placide Cappeau de Roquemaure)

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-42895799846806097942008-12-14T19:52:00.004-05:002008-12-14T20:50:57.767-05:00

Julie Weathers made me do this.I'm supposed to open the closest book to page 56, copy down the fifth sentence, then the following two to five sentences. After that, I'm supposed to make five other people do this, or at least ask them nicely.The closest book physically to me is the one I'm currently reading, which is Son of the Shadows by Juliet Marillier, who is one of the best fantasy

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-68618297609840925662008-12-01T14:35:00.003-05:002009-05-15T16:45:08.040-04:00

When I was a kid, one of my favorite things was opening a brand new box of 64 Crayola crayons.All that luscious color, right there in one box. (1) I would rearrange them--each color family together, one shade blending into the next. I loved the names: Burnt Sienna, Raw Umber (2), Spring Green, Periwinkle, Thistle, Midnight Blue (3), Sepia, Indian Red (4), Orchid (5). It intrigued me that

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-80842288563718690072008-11-13T16:38:00.003-05:002008-11-13T16:55:20.437-05:00

(I had meant to post this last summer but didn't. So while the seasonal reference is a bit dated, the excuses, particularly the last one, still hold true.)I've put off writing about this theme for a long time. Partly because it's summer and summer is a busy time in my household. All the little fledglings return to the nest and so there's quality family time and vacations and such. Routines go

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-15173943497381434272008-11-12T15:06:00.000-05:002011-10-14T12:22:01.303-04:00

My long-time acquaintance and fellow writer, Diana Gabaldon, says there are three rules for writing: 1. Read 2. Write 3. Don't stop Now the first two are self-explanatory (to me, at least): to understand how to write a novel, you have to read them. Lots of them. Reading fills the tank. Reading forges the neural pathways of plot development, teaching you on both conscious and sub-conscious

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-54173075969902322502008-04-27T17:10:00.002-04:002008-11-13T16:52:41.666-05:00

One thing I've noticed about my newly discovered themes is that they're all focused on individual characters' choices, failures, triumphs, relationships, and growth. But while reading Kate Elliott's blog the other day, in which she linked to a guest blog entry she'd written for John Scalzi, I discovered that some of her themes are, well, bigger than my themes. Her most recent series addresses:"..

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-21598961698334554382008-04-15T18:00:00.003-04:002008-11-13T16:54:43.635-05:00

There's been a meme floating around some of my friends' blogs (well, it was floating around a couple months ago. It's probably sunk to the silty bottom of the blogosphere by now) called "Ten Things About Me as a Writer." I was halfway considering posting the thing here, just to have something to post. But then I stumbled over question #6 and fell flat on my smug writer's face.It's a question

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-5666598400755847502008-01-13T17:49:00.000-05:002008-01-14T17:47:52.344-05:00

A writer of my acquaintance has just published a book.Cause for celebration in itself, but this book is something special in its genre (Romance) and it's a great thrill to see the reading world awaken to this fact. It has so far received several glowing reviews, but one of the best is offered by the smart ladies who live here:Knock that oiled chest-baring ab-master off the cover, and substitute

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-64449686868092745342007-12-30T17:35:00.002-05:002009-08-10T14:03:48.871-04:00

So I recently finished watching the Series One DVDs of this new BBC Robin Hood series titled, well, Robin Hood, starring Jonas Armstrong as the eponymous main character. And he really does wear a hoodie. It's a tad grubby and Middle Ages retro-ish, but unmistakeably a hoodie. With the insouciant charm of Errol Flynn, a rakish J. Timberlake beard, and more serious hints of the tortured returning

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-69978324124998927422007-11-22T20:10:00.000-05:002008-01-26T17:27:58.609-05:00

Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.~Albert CamusWinter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all. ~Stanley HorowitzAfter the summer's drought, I wasn't sure what to expect from autumn. It was certainly late arriving, though since summer lingered far past its expiration date, it's not so surprising that fall would take its time.

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-41964276895666311942007-10-30T13:21:00.001-04:002007-10-31T10:51:15.226-04:00

I've been attending the Surrey International Writers Conference (in Surrey, BC, just south of Vancouver) each year for the last seven years.I got started going because every October my online friend Diana used to mention going to some writers conference in Canada that was "small, but really, really good."I had never been to a writers conference before, but I began to toy with the idea of going to

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-68203650358096395442007-10-07T19:57:00.000-04:002007-10-07T20:06:54.940-04:00

...for my prolonged absence. Check all that you feel probably apply.-- I was too busy to blog.-- I wasn't in the mood to blog.-- I was too lazy to blog.-- I didn't have anything to write about.-- I did have things to write about, but was too lazy/busy to write them.Answers: All of the above are correct. Sigh. New post coming soon, though!

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-73364610451975901762007-07-30T16:15:00.002-04:002011-04-27T14:29:24.961-04:00

There's a tendency among readers to view characters (and story ideas) as reflections of the writer. Somewhat disguised, yes, and maybe a little distorted, like images in a fun house mirror, but still somehow recognizably a manifestation of the author, and therefore a mouthpiece of the author's beliefs/morals/ethics/agenda. After all, everyone knows characters and ideas are birthed fully formed

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-74334316280710802042007-07-04T20:49:00.000-04:002007-07-07T20:33:31.821-04:00

Old Glory waves before the Washington MonumentJuly 4, 2007We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness....We, therefore, the Representatives of the united States of America, in General Congress, Assembled, appealing to the Supreme

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-3286015392763381032007-06-11T13:01:00.000-04:002007-06-12T08:56:35.666-04:00

A few months past, a writer* I know shared some thoughts with me about the pitfalls of openings:An excellent teacher I had many decades ago likened the first sentence--or sometimes the whole first paragraph--to a gangplank on a ship. You need it to get aboard but once you sail away you can leave it on the dock or dump it in the ocean. IOW that opening sentence or paragraph is often merely what we

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-72077393851089292042007-05-30T20:41:00.000-04:002007-05-30T21:01:23.810-04:00

Word verification is a royal pain. And ever since Blogger Beta turned into Blogger New and Improved, I've had the dickens of a time posting comments on other blogs. I usually have to word verify at least twice. Sometimes three, four, or even five times. These can't all be due to typos or misreadings.For that reason, I long ago turned off word verification on my blog. I have not so far been

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-28081612690919849002007-05-20T08:07:00.000-04:002007-06-02T14:29:42.061-04:00

A great light has winked out in the blogosphere. Miss Snark has taken down her shingle. Her stomping ground will become a museum, a library, a place to thumb over countless pages of her wit and wisdom, but no longer to glimpse even so much as her shadow flitting around the corner, with Killer Yapp yipping at her red stiletto heels.I am greatly saddened. There will never be anyone like her, ever.

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-15959006563766888902007-05-11T15:04:00.000-04:002007-05-11T15:15:38.510-04:00

Beginnings are always slow for me, because I'm feeling my way into the unknown (which can also be exciting, so they aren't a total downer). Endings are slow, too--I have to move very carefully to properly connect up all the flopping, fraying plot wires so that everything goes boom in just the right way. The pyrotechnics must be spectacular but they must also be precise.But middles--I love middles

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-84924769792298911372007-05-07T13:55:00.000-04:002007-05-07T14:50:55.819-04:00

Good writers break rules all the time. The trick is doing it so well that the sin becomes a virtue.But there's one commandment that must never be broken. Ever. To commit this sin is to languish in Remainder Purgatory or burn in the humiliation of Rejection Letter Hell.It's not opening with a dream, or using flashbacks, or telling instead of showing. It's not talking to the reader. It's not

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-76475981033796034052007-05-03T08:39:00.000-04:002007-05-03T09:23:46.677-04:00

One reason I write slowly is that I tend to write in layers.The initial layer is sort of like when actors gather the first time on stage to read their lines and figure out the choreography. The delivery is stiff and clunky and without much emotion, and a lot of experimentation is involved in deciding how to move and which way to face and what to do with their hands. The set is not yet built, so

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-10688124493627415832007-04-12T18:00:00.000-04:002007-04-20T10:03:28.668-04:00

My remarks about the Hawaiian rainforest trees (and the discussion of setting in general) got me thinking about the trees in my book.When writing fantasy, one has to be careful about creating new flora (or fauna, for that matter). The temptation among some writers seems to be to slap exotic names on otherwise familiar greenery, so that you have passages that read like this:"Sandar laid his sword

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-47085443340228757302007-04-03T16:19:00.001-04:002011-01-08T22:42:27.239-05:00

I happen to think setting is very, very important. Some writers don't. I'll know within a chapter, usually, whether or not the author cares about setting. And even if the story itself turns out to be compelling and enjoyable, overall something will feel generic and flat about it. It's missing the magic of place. When it comes to storytelling, place is vital. It is the gold that cradles the

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-39113235177030251322007-04-02T11:46:00.000-04:002007-04-02T11:51:24.824-04:00

Harry Bernstein is a first-time author at age 96."Into his 90s, decimated by the loss of his beloved wife, and alone at night with the memories of a rough and sad childhood spent battling an alcoholic father and vicious anti-Semitism, Harry Bernstein decided to write.What started out as almost a form of therapy eventually turned into a book called "The Invisible Wall" that chronicles his

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-63725980794000088322007-03-14T11:24:00.000-04:002007-03-14T19:29:44.237-04:00

So, in the comment trail of my last post, Sara noted:"You've chosen a path where you put the validation of your work into someone else's hands. (Which is what I gather from your post--i.e. that writing this novel isn't worth it if it will not be published and read.) This is a difficult path because it's something that's basically out of your control. You can make your work the best it can

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-87851435148832917842007-03-01T13:37:00.000-05:002007-03-04T21:35:58.479-05:00

I realized today that somewhere along the line, I had stopped believing I'd be successful.We writers all start the process of writing with our hopes and dreams spread out like a pristine white handkerchief, ironed smooth, maybe with lace at the borders. Fresh and crisp and clean.If we're persistent and optimistic--if we're smart--we'll protect that unsullied white expanse, because that flimsy

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-55114560997544937192007-02-19T13:10:00.000-05:002007-02-23T17:35:37.534-05:00

I just got back from a week in Hawaii.It all happened at the last minute, but when my husband boarded a plane early Sunday morning for a business trip to Oahu, I went with him.What I remember most:- the weather. Sunny days, pleasant breezes, brief, gentle showers, rainbows...- the rainforest. So many exotic trees (and so few actually native to Oahu, whose flora up to 2000 feet was once upon a

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-31117372375947939762007-01-31T18:02:00.000-05:002007-02-20T14:40:42.348-05:00

Well, I was, actually. It's always easier to revise than to write new stuff. I'm more of a rewriter than a writer.But in the process of scanning a relatively recent scene that I'd thought was mostly done but was reading through again just to put me in the right frame of mind to move into the next scene, of which a couple of paragraphs or so were already written, though they didn't resonate with

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-86072473033842137072007-01-19T10:55:00.000-05:002007-01-30T13:54:40.695-05:00

For a long time, I never knew I wrote in triangles.I discovered this phenomenon the day a writer friend told me that she adored romantic triangles in stories. I agreed that such made for interesting reading, perhaps a good deal more interesting than the usual "will they ever quit fighting each other and make love instead" variety of conflict. Then it occurred to me that the triangle makes an

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-73715143769004903442007-01-03T10:02:00.000-05:002007-01-03T14:47:50.870-05:00

To finish The Knife-Giver.Anything else I accomplish is whipped cream and cherries.

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-8349663314957259292006-12-25T11:45:00.000-05:002007-01-03T10:10:04.664-05:00

"...and in despair I bowed my head'There is no peace on earth,' I said,'For hate is strong and mocks the songOf peace on earth, good will to men.'Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:'God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;The wrong shall fail, the right prevailWith peace on earth, good will to men.' ”--Henry W. LongfellowBlessed is the Lord God of Israel, for he has visited and redeemed his

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-16166111228711355722006-12-18T17:15:00.000-05:002006-12-19T09:47:33.831-05:00

I continue to write. Or at least, I did until the holiday whirlwind caught up with me. Now I just think about writing, and gaze wistfully out at the screened porch that our unseasonably balmy temperatures make suddenly inviting. All I need is my laptop and a nice cup of tea...After Christmas.One of my favorite writing quotes is from E.L. Doctorow: "Writing a novel is liking driving a car at night

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-8561298651287186602006-12-01T15:08:00.000-05:002006-12-02T18:52:30.833-05:00

Yes, I'm having fun with templates, so the appearance of this blog may change often and without notice. The new Beta-blogger lets you change around colors and fonts. I'd really like to find a more unusual and custom tailored template, but until then, I can't resist fiddling!(And no, this is not avoidance behavior. I wrote 489 new words today!)

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-6252123967211832072006-11-30T11:07:00.000-05:002006-11-30T11:22:06.286-05:00

The nice thing about nightmares is that 1) they can't hurt you, and 2) when you look at them in the merciless light of day, they quiver and shrink and crawl into the cracks between the floorboards, leaving only a whiff of brimstone behind to remind you of how they once scared you.So it is with my own personal writer's nightmare of not being able to write. Now that I have exposed the roots of it,

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-90352699518376494762006-11-27T22:09:00.000-05:002006-11-27T23:02:53.436-05:00

So now I know what the problem is.Performance anxiety. Impotence, of the writerly kind.This has nothing do with anxiety about a nebulous future--will I find an agent? Will the agent find a publisher? Will the book sell enough copies to warrant another contract? And so on.All legitimate, potentially fraught issues, but for another day.My anxiety is much more immediate. It centers around the very

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-1159325496418147942006-11-19T21:17:00.000-05:002006-11-27T22:08:44.284-05:00

So, what do you do when the writing well runs dry? When you crank up Word (or equivalent) and know that you must write a scene, a paragraph, a sentence--a word, even--but you can't. When the task of writing becomes so daunting that you begin to understand how the Aegean stablehands felt before Hercules showed up.Where is Hercules? I need him. I need him to hose the gunk out of my brain so I can

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-1159140336232103302006-09-24T19:14:00.000-04:002006-09-24T19:28:12.846-04:00

A terrific essay about bodily sensations and how often writers seem to forget them. Your characters see, hear, and occasionally taste or smell something, but what do they feel in their bodies?###Riordan opened his eyes to pain and fire and blackness. The fire lived under his skin, burning him up from the inside; the pain was a knife sawing at his joints and a mallet pounding behind his eyes.

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-1158960140511120672006-09-22T16:49:00.000-04:002006-09-24T19:11:03.216-04:00

If you've ever spent time looking at paintings, particularly landscapes and portraits, you may have noticed the artist's use of light: the direction it falls; how it interacts with shadows; the way certain aspects of the picture are either revealed or obscured; the color of the light, whether it's bright sunlight or the dreamy amber of candlelight or the clear, cold shine of the moon. If you

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-1157759374352419482006-09-08T19:33:00.000-04:002007-02-07T10:53:14.721-05:00

Just found out that three stories from the Lords of Swords anthology* received an Honorable Mention in The Year's Best Fantasy and Horror 2006, edited by Ellen Datlow, Kelly Link, and Gavin Grant:Vera Nazarian's "The Slaying of Winter," Tanith Lee's "Woman in Scarlet"......and my own "Dragon's Eye."Cool. Very cool.* Lords of Swords, ed. by Daniel Blackston, Pitch-Black Books, 2004.(edited to add:

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-1156455778937615462006-08-24T16:46:00.000-04:002006-08-25T09:44:33.966-04:00

There's a terrific quote from Katherine Paterson (author of that famous and heartbreaking children's story called The Bridge to Terebitha) that goes like this:I love revision. Where else can spilled milk be turned into ice cream?I can relate to that, because my initial writing--the first splats on the page--is rarely anything I would show to anyone, ever. It's inherently messy, probably

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-1155754639671201782006-08-16T13:55:00.000-04:002007-02-07T10:54:06.721-05:00

currently reading... Fiction: In the Ruins by Kate Elliott. Non-fiction: Desert Solitaire by Edward Abbey; The First Five Pages by Noah Lukeman. Just finished: The Hallowed Hunt, by Lois McMaster Bujold. One of the things I really love about her writing is the freshness of her description (comes from using strong verbs and nouns in interesting ways), and her gift for conversation. Notice I didn't

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-1155434142688835792006-08-12T21:28:00.000-04:002006-08-15T08:17:51.820-04:00

A thousand words today, and a chapter finished. (Or mostly. It still needs a little editing.) Pretty good for a snail like me. It helps that I've been mostly sequestered in a hotel room for the last three days. I can punch up some mood music on the Zen player and slip away into my own little world. (One of my sons owns a t-shirt that says, "I live in my own little world, but that's OK--they know

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-1154978682816012362006-08-07T15:15:00.001-04:002008-04-27T16:09:18.850-04:00

In "The Evil Overlord Devises a Plot," I discovered tips for heroines (it's actually under the section called "If I am ever the hero's own true love...") near the bottom of the page. In skimming through these, it occurred to me that today's heroine has to meet some pretty high standards. She has to be tough, clever, independent, witty, smart, and well armed. Nothing wrong with any of that, but I

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-1153791514225728572006-07-24T21:34:00.000-04:002006-07-30T08:07:11.023-04:00

It's always reassuring to discover that one's villains are following The Rules.From The Evil Overlord Manual--141. As an alternative to not having children, I will have lots of children. My sons will be too busy jockeying for position to ever be a real threat, and the daughters will all sabotage each other's attempts to win the hero.Kauldi offered Yakoba a considering look, narrowed eyes almost

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-1148670971316333422006-05-26T15:10:00.000-04:002006-07-26T11:14:50.456-04:00

795 words today. And things should start getting interesting now, as Yakoba discovers who his fellow prisoner is.

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-1148154643939465332006-05-20T15:43:00.000-04:002006-07-26T11:15:40.256-04:00

Today's word count stands at 284, better than yesterday's, which was about 70 or so that I ended up deleting. I know from experience that I always start slow, but build momentum. I'll get there.Meanwhile, here's a snippet from what I wrote today.The man looked as if he'd been marching for days without sleep. His hands trembled around the wooden bowl and the smudges under his eyes were the

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-1148046383336493282006-05-19T09:13:00.000-04:002006-07-30T08:07:42.960-04:00

Anyone who had the faintest interest in this blog will have long since given up on it by now. All casual passers-by have drifted away in search of more interesting fare, and I am alone here again. No noses pressed against the glass, no shadows moving past my door.Which suits me, at the moment.I have made a pact with myself to write new words in the WIP every day. Maybe there won't be a lot of

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-1138712079170472762006-01-31T07:47:00.000-05:002006-07-25T09:57:04.873-04:00

Obviously I need to get the hang of this blog thing. Like, use it. Post something now and then.In the comment trail on Miss Snark, Orson Scott Card said something to the effect that if writing does not feel wonderful and fun and exciting, at least some of the time, then maybe the wrong things are happening in the story. Or to take that to its logical conclusion, the right things aren't.I needed

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-1135428519438951282005-12-24T07:17:00.000-05:002006-07-26T11:09:43.363-04:00

Rejoice, rejoiceImmanuel will come to theeO IsraelFor unto usa child is born,unto us a son is given;and the government shall be upon his shoulders;and his name shall be called:WonderfulCounselorThe Mighty GodThe Everlasting FatherThe Prince of PeaceIsaiah 9:6

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-1133486168345951852005-12-01T19:34:00.000-05:002007-03-26T15:15:09.856-04:00

Since I outgrew childhood, I've never been much of one for reading short stories. Oh, there were some exceptions, such as the year I discovered Henry Kuttner. But mostly I prefer novels. I like the slow strip-tease of good-storytelling. (Thank you, Linda Grimes, for that metaphor.) Short stories are...hasty. Just when you're warming up to the world and the characters, it's over. And not always

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-1132592578067356272005-11-22T17:10:00.000-05:002006-07-26T11:12:05.663-04:00

Or at least, I'm trying to tame a beast.*This is difficult, because it likes to hide in shadows and grow when I'm not looking. Just when I think I have it neatly trapped in its shipping carton, the next thing I know, the sides are bulging, the cardboard is tearing, and the creature has sprouted horns and gills and the odd large barnacle. It wants to wriggle and sprawl. It will not stay

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19035954.post-1132263256467033662005-11-17T16:14:00.000-05:002006-07-26T11:14:22.603-04:00

Haven't a clue what to say. Never thought I'd be keeping one of these, but there's a certain...seduction* to it, even though it's not likely to get read. Actually, I count that a good thing. It means I can say anything I want, and no one will know or care.**A word about the blog title. The stone river is a place in my fantasy novel where an underground river has, through sorcery, been stilled (

Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08504439129670380071noreply@blogger.com3