Author
This is what Kitty Consensus looks like in the McCullough household:
Leith on one of the new radiator benches because it’s cold out
Jordan, ditto
Ashbless on the last of the old radiator benches because it’s cold out
Isabelle, ditto (though you can’t see it in the close up)
Nutmeg: Where are we going next, Boss?
(Originally published on the Wyrdsmiths blog November 7 2008, and original comments may be found there. Reposted and reedited as part of the reblogging project)
Go way. S’eeping.
But, have you seen what’s hanging out outside my window here at Castle Gaiman?
Skelemingo.*
Not my problem. Sleeping.
Well, then what about Cerbermingo?*
Still not seeing a reason why we should stop sleeping.
What about this thing?*
Okay, now that’s kind of creepy.
And random pirate dog says “Yarr!”
*All demonic flamingos are the sole product of the demented imagination of Matt Kuchta. Management takes no responsibility for any nightmares generated by same.
Da Girlz
You think you’re so smart!
What do you mean you’re not coming downstairs?
Surely you must be joking Mr. Feynman
The diet has made me hungry…for your soul!
You were done with this, right?
(Originally published on the Wyrdsmiths blog October 31 2008, and original comments may be found there. Reposted and reedited as part of the reblogging project)
Ash, Jordon, and Isabelle doing their group rendition of “It’s about damn time you turned the radiators on!”
There’s one under all the cat beds–which reminds me that high on my list of things to do once I finish this book is build a new radiator bench that makes it easier to, you know, radiate.
Leith says, “You ladies can have the radiator, I’m going for the couch in the office.”
That’s where I am, with the space heater that Laura so kindly turned on for me when she left so that I’d have a warm workspace when I got up.
Finally, Meg. “Boss where are we going next? Do you want to take my picture? I…I…What was I saying?”
(Originally published on the Wyrdsmiths blog October 17 2008, and original comments may be found there. Reposted and reedited as part of the reblogging project)
So, someone asked me about National Novel Writing Month. I figured I might as well share that answer here.
I have mixed feelings about NaNoWriMo:
Pros: 1) I’m for anything that gets people who want to write writing. It’s a great exercise for getting an initial draft done for one fairly large category of writers. 2) It’s a great way for someone to learn that they really can crank out a lot of words on a deadline. 3) There is a large group of writers for whom the exercise of being forced to shut down the internal critic is a fantastic thing.
Cons: 1) Unless you’re talking YA, 50,000 words does not a novel make and expanding something from 50,000 to a more reasonable number is a lot of work, more in my opinion than simply writing 90,000 to start with would have been–if the goal were 50,000 words of a novel in a month instead of a 50,000 word novel, I’d be more enthusiastic. 2) A lot of writers, even a lot of pros simply can’t come close to hitting that pace—I write two novels a year on deadline and it’s very rare for me to have a 50k month. Fostering the idea that you need to be able to write that fast to get somewhere can be actively harmful to slower writers. 3) There is a small but real number of writers out there who need to be encouraged to listen to the inner editor more rather than less and NaNo may encourage them to foster bad habits.
Overall, I would recommend to most writers that they try NaNo at least once or twice, but not to get too upset if it doesn’t suit them. I’d also recommend that they move on from NaNo to Novel in 90 or some other challenge that has both a more realistic end goal and pace. Even among the pros, 50,000 words a month is very fast. I can name maybe a dozen writers who beat it regularly and no more then twenty or thirty (me included) who can hit it occasionally during parts of a book. One book a year, ~500 words a day every single weekday is both much closer to the average and much easier for most to manage.
I should note here that anyone who finds that NaNo works well for them should absolutely keep doing it as long as that’s the case. Never give up on something that genuinely works for you.
(Originally published on the Wyrdsmiths blog October 13 2008, and original comments may be found there. Reposted and reedited as part of the reblogging project)
Sexy? Damn right!
Cold? No, what makes you think so?
15 pound cat 10 pound bed
Of coursh I can touch my nose with tongue, Officsher.
Once my eyes finish charging you are so going to regret waking me up!
(Originally published on the Wyrdsmiths blog October 10 2008, and original comments may be found there. Reposted and reedited as part of the reblogging project)
Episode one: The Cat Food Contaminant.
We’ve been trying to put some weight on Meglet, our tiny black and white cat who has kidney issues. As a part of this effort we’ve been feeding her canned food as often as she wants it (KD). The best tool to get the wet food out of the can without making too much of a mess is a butter knife. So, there’s often been a cat food knife sitting on the edge of the sink.
I generally have a wrap of some sort for breakfast. This usually includes me slicing a few pieces of cheese and throwing it into a tortilla with meat or eggs. When I do this I will often have a a few pieces of cheese on their own.
About two weeks ago, I was making breakfast and had two or three slices of cheese. As I was eating I noticed that the smoked cheddar I had just opened had an unusual spicy/tangy note to it. Quite good, actually. Since it’s a processed cheese, I just assumed that they’d changed their process slightly and thought nothing of it.
A couple of hours after that, when I was actually awake, I wandered downstairs to refresh my tea and Meglet started begging for wet food. That’s when I noticed the cheese stains on the cat food knife and figured out what the unusual spice must have been…
Mithril
Snowmane
Gabriel
(Originally published on the Wyrdsmiths blog September 26 2008, and original comments may be found there. Reposted and reedited as part of the reblogging project)
The flying saucer people were delicious! Moar?
I am delicious.
Say what?
I ated something delicious, and it killed me ded.
You look delicious…come here and let me lick your camera lens, big boy.
I staggered out of bed as soon as I woke up out of the middle of the dream and I went straight to my laptop to write it down. These are the only circumstances under which Laura will not send me back to bed when I’m as groggy as I was then—staggering into walls, etc. I really like this particular idea and I might well turn it into a book after I write the 2-5 that are higher up the list. I’m going to bold the parts that I inserted as I was writing down the dream to make things make a touch more story sense. Everything else is exactly as I dreamed it. This is both the raw product of my unconscious mind and an unedited first draft chunk just as it came out this morning when I was still so incoherent I was running into things.
The Flake:
Cornflakes dipped in dark chocolate and piled together into a black tower a half mile tall (Actually flat stones, very nearly round with a finish like obsidian and feel like river rock, maybe ten inches across). Huge natural-looking/unnatural looking geological structure. Half is buried below the surface of the Earth. A ruined prince and his people have taken shelter there after a usurpation (evil sorcerer). It’s on land he owned as Prince of something like Wales. As a boy he used to climb through the structure for hours and days on end. No one knows it like he does.
He and his remaining knights take shelter there, putting in a couple of gates at key points to make an impregnable fortress. Have held out for months when a night assault up from the roots takes them prisoner. Something like dwarf/troll hybrids (hated by everyone and nearly wiped out by prince’s father) hired as mercenaries by the sorcerer. Turns out they can manipulate the flake (thought to be permanent/unbreakable) by use of special something or other because their ancestors built the tower.
The sorcerer arrives and kills most of the company and the dwarves, throws the prince and a few of his followers (+ betrothed) in the dungeon. In the absolute darkness the prince receives a gift from one of the dying trolls–key to his cell.
He slips out into the depths still without light and starts making his way by the sound of the wind that always blows through the structure as he used to as a boy. The different sound of the wind on people and stuff allows him to track upwind to find his followers as well as eventually to lead his band out into the night by an entrance down at the seaside. Eventually makes deal with trolls that will restore them to some of their rightful lands lift price on their head in exchange for their help.
An after-note on my sub/un—conscious mind. I know myself well enough to see from the title I gave this and the physical structure of the tower that this is at least partially inspired by a British candy bar type (the flake stuff is very like a bar I’ve had there a few times), and, that in my dream I was literally wandering around inside the chocolate (it was a good dream). It was quite probably triggered by having a different types of chocolate (Legacy truffles) last night which, in turn, reminded me of our recent trip to Winnipeg where I had yet a third kind of chocolate (Aero) that I associate with Edinburgh and the flake stuff.
So, if you’ve ever wondered how I make this stuff up, there it is: weird dreams brought on by chocolate. Or, this story was brought on by the letters c-h-o-c…etc.
(Originally published on the Wyrdsmiths blog September 24 2008, and original comments may be found there. Reposted and reedited as part of the reblogging project)