Write what you know... um, wait.

I recently had the honour of being invited as a guest blogger on Speculations, the Chiaroscuro Reading and Workshop Series' site filled with fun and informative short articles by all types of SF writers.  I decided to discuss the writing advice of "writing what you know."  The first time I heard that advice it had been twisted by someone to mean: "If you've only been to Ottawa, set all of your stories in Ottawa."

And yet I'm still fairly certain that Tolkien never physically went to Middle Earth.

Click here to have a read and, while you're there, browse the rest of the Speculations blog.

To Con Organizers

I’m sitting a big conference room in Montreal, listening to audio visual staff sing as they set-up equipment for my workplace’s national conference.   My co-worker and I are running through the details, keeping track of all the little stuff that could go wrong over the next few days if we screw something up today.  Is that wire going to trip someone?  Are those signs visible?  Will those people be happy with where we stuck them?  Will our shoes clash with the paisley carpet? 

For anyone who’s done event planning, they know there’s a natural adrenaline rush, whether it’s a personal event like a wedding, or a professional one like a conference.  I can feel butterflies in my stomach even though I’m well aware that, when it comes down to it,  it’s not my event.   It’s important to me professionally, of course, and I take pride in what I do, but it’s still for my workplace, not for my own personal gratification (even though a lot of personal gratification comes from a job well done, let’s face it).  But still, doing this for my workplace means that I’m not personally taking on the risk.  I’ll be disappointed if things don’t go off well, might even shed a tear or two, but I’ll get over it quickly (possibly with a glass of wine), and I won't have lost any money (unless I get fired for blogging instead of running around).

That’s one of the many reasons con organizers amaze me.  Not only are they putting on events that are going to be attended by “their industry peers,” (authors, stars, fans, performers, etc.), they’re taking on all the risk.  All of it, from financial to successful.  They surround themselves with other passionate fans and friends and put all of this sweat, energy and money into it, believing that it’ll go off well, that people will have fun, that reviews will be favourable and that, should they hold it again next year, everybody that was there will decide to bring their twenty closest friends.  Because it rocked that much. 

And that’s just the event itself.  Think of all the work beforehand.  You spend months and maybe even years planning  details and inviting guests, getting the right team together, visiting venues, dealing with feedback and hoping to hell your judgment will guarantee a great event.  But there are no guarantees.  Guests drop out at the last minute, leaving programming holes.  Participants are few because the day after you locked in your dates, Star Trek: The Next Generation announces that it’s having a full cast reunion  on the same days in a much more accessible spot for a much cheaper price, including drinks with Picard AND, while there, you’ll get to be in a scene of the re-launched Firefly series (we can all dream, right?)   And seven of your ten con committee members contract H1N42  the week before the event, hacking up a lung while being enlightened on the meaning of life.  As they say, shit happens.  Yet these cons are pulled off all over the world, successfully, on grand global and small regional scales, and loads of people keep going back and saying how much fun they had.

And I love cons.  I really do.  I get to see friends I only ever really see at cons, and participate in events that are just downright fun and satisfy the geek in me.  They provide opportunities to meet great new people, make new friends and for all of us to showcase a bit of what we do and love in the SF-dom.

So my hat off to con organizers.  They are a rare and much-needed bunch, and the field would be a much different and duller place without them.  They have the guts to take the risks that make it all worthwhile for us, which makes them all worth piles of dragon gold, in my opinion (mean dragon gold, too.  Not wussy dragon gold).

Ooooh, the a.v. folks have stopped singing - a sure sign of good or bad things!  Gotta go!

Saintdom (or some such thing)

I felt pretty saintly this morning.  I helped pick up escaped newspapers downtown and bought a coffee for someone who had forgetten their wallet. To complete my ascension to Heaven, I purchased a Soy Chai Latte (see last Friday's post).  It went downhill when I took a swig from the heavenly drink:

Me: {expletive} that's good!
Turn around to see young woman with child (who the heck brings their children downtown at 6:30 am?  No one's had their coffee yet - it's a dangerous place!)
Me:  {expletive!}I mean, um, sorry!
Shuffles out mumbling.

Seriously.  That's child endangerment, I say.

At least I'm off to the convent tonight.  That will surely help my seared soul.  I'll chat with Giant Jesus, resist the urge to look into graves (one can only hope) and possibly get my butt scratched by a nun again.  Well, okay, that's probably not saintly, but at least I'll get lots of work done on the new novel.  That'll have to do!

The Third Swan

Swan Lake is one of the most celebrated and mystical ballet by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, a Russian composer of the Romantic Era. I've always had a special love for this piece, since my father used to put me to sleep with this rather dramatic music. The Third Swam is a fictional story based on this ballet.

Listen to The Third Swan.

Friday Afternoon Gushiness (Because it's my blog and I can. So there.)

Living is great.  And it’s a bitch.  There are times when we soar above it all, in love with the world, our friends, our family, our car, our jobs and our ability to twirl.  When everything seems to be going just right and the right words come to us at  just the right time and the right person touches our arm in just that right spot and OMG everything is so… right.

And we’re full of energy and we just want to take on the world and make it submit to our desires and will.  None of this compromise stuff.  Take the bull by the horns or the horns by the bull or whatever it is you want to do at that exact moment because it’s your moment, and no one else’s, and that’s just magical.  We love life, and it loves us.

Then there are those other times.  You know, the times the walls close in on us.  We’re scared, and alone, and angry, and bored, and we just wish we were somewhere else, or someone else, and reboots or undos existed on this plane as well.  When our hearts feel like they’ll never heal, or our hopes never be reborn, and let’s not even speak of dreams – when did we ever have those?

We shrivel up inside and we put on a brave face to get through the day, just one more day, one foot in front of the other, just… keep going.  One step, waiting for that dawn to break, forgetting what the heck it looks like, and who said it broke when it was darkest, because it’s damn dark and I don’t see any dawn breaking.  We hate life, and it hates us.

And isn’t it all so amazing?  When you really think about it?   I mean, imagine the breadth of your life.  All of those moments that forged you, whether you want to admit it or not.  That’s your landscape, right there.That's you.

Remember when you were elated (or confused/disappointed) by that first kiss?  The first time you accomplished one of your goals, not your parents or teachers’ goals?  Or the tenth time you did, and still felt just as great?  Or the fifteenth time you broke up (if it’s with the same person, get a clue), and it hurt just as much when you’re thirty as it did when you were eighteen?   That time you laughed so hard it echoed within the hollowness of your own being until the laughter turned to bitter sobs?  (Or maybe that's just me.)  The first time you were told you were beautiful and actually believed it?

Isn’t it all so wonderfully introspective?

I’m definitely having one of those days. I think it was triggered by the discovery of soy chai lattes at Second Cup.  It’s out of this world, really.  I’m in love with it, and I’m having a hard time containing my love, and since I’m not currently in a situation where I can (or should) hug the people around me, I’m retreating into memories.   Both the good and the bad, and I love it all right now.

I’m thinking back on the people who made this life great, and who continue to make it great, whether they’re still there or not, and I’m falling in love with them all over again, and with everything in my life, not just the wonderful people - my laptop, my cats, my bed and my new couch, the curtains in the living room, the colour of my roomy’s hair, and the littlest things make me entirely too happy, and the past is a wonderful painting but the future is my canvass and I can’t wait to discover it because MAN it’s gonna be fun.  I’ll make sure of it.  In a giant run-on sentence.

See?  Psychotic little gushy moment of love, which I thought I’d share.

Yes, indeed, the Second Cup soy chai latte is apparently just that good.

…Second Cup should seriously sponsor my blog.

Book 3 on Amazon!

Sorceress of Shadows is now available for order on Amazon.com - yay! 

I admit to being gripped by conflicting emotions when it comes to this book.  I love this book - I really do, but it was a bittersweet writing experience.  After spending three books in the same world and in the company of the same characters, it's a bit hard to let go.

When I received my copies of Princess of Light and held them in my hands for the first time, I was so nervous that something had gone wrong that I barely enjoyed the moment.  With Warrior of Darkness, I picked up the copies on my way out of town to a con, and I didn't even open the boxes until I arrived there.  When I handed them out to my family, I even forgot to sign my brother's copy.  He still goes on about that, actually.  (Okay, maybe if I'd sign it he'd stop, but that's just a guess.)

But I'm really looking forward to receiving my shipment of Sorceress of Shadows.  I mean, ya, the Ottawa book launch is in a week, so that makes it pressing, but I'm also looking forward to holding the final volume in my hands.  It's more real to me for some reason, maybe because the story is coming to a close.  Holding the final book for the first time might be an emotional moment.  Might not be - keeping an open mind.

Well, if they come the Friday of the book launch, it'll be an emotional moment filled with adrenaline and relieved cursing, and I really hope to avoid that. I drink too much caffeine to safely be accosted by such strong emotions!

Seriously.

A Facebook Fairy Tale

Finally, some video of some storytelling, after years of empty promises!  This is an, um, updated? mashed? destroyed? version of the Russian fairy tale The Snow Maiden (Snegurochka).  I call it A Facebook Fairy Tale (in two parts!)

Enjoy!