I’m editing a novella. Not the one I wrote for Nano, but one I wrote on accident last year. (Long story, probably not very exciting, but it was fun.) They both share a through-the-rabbit-hole theme, but that’s about where the similarities end. The Nano book takes itself fairly seriously, whereas this one is all about making fun of itself and everyone in it—a little experiment in applying the age old satire structure to modern limited point of view and character development. Its hero, if we can call him that, leads his little band of enemies through a series of trials in a suburb of Hell with only his iPod to grant him occasional mental refuge.

I saw that “pick seven songs you’re listening to right now” meme again recently, and realized that I’m really only listening to the new Franz Ferdinand (like I have been relentlessly since it came out…) and then switching to religious baroque and classical for editing purposes. Vivaldi’s Nulla in Mundo Pax Sincera is awesome for writing beautiful snarky fallen angel inquisitors, and Mozart’s Requiem has sufficient gravity to make up for my inability to take demonic torture seriously. (Though when I’m really feeling snarky, I just go for Figaro.)

My pseudo-hero, however, has a definite list of songs mentioned explicitly in the text as accompanying various scenes. So here are Sig’s Seven Songs From The Oubliette (A Suburb of Hell: Over 1 Trillion Served).

• The Smiths – Meat Is Murder
• Joy Division – Atrocity Exhibition
• Radiohead – Let Down
• Interpol – Evil
• Muse – Ruled By Secrecy

That’s all he gets to before his little trials force him to put the iPod away. But he does have the odd chance to think longingly after his little electronic pal, and wish for a few more. Such as:

• Buzzcocks – Oh Shit!
• The Cure – Lullaby

Happy little bastard, isn’t he? Nothing like mocking someone from their own point of view and through their own choices in music. Of course I could listen to this stuff while editing, but since his tastes happen to align with a certain subset of mine (quite a relief; I hate when I get characters who are into things I’m not—I always end up into them on accident by the end, though I’m still holding out on Impressionism), I just get distracted by wanting to sing along.

Ever mention music explicitly in anything you’ve written? I’ve had lots of stories inspired by things I’ve heard, and usually name the story after it when it happens, if applicable, but this is something else entirely. Rarely does a built-in soundtrack actually work without seeming forced and useless. But there’s a time for it, I reckon. Or so Sig tells me.

Or maybe it’s just that he’s so very forced and useless himself.

Anyhow, if you like you may consider yourself tagged for the “seven songs you’re into right now” meme. But to make it more interesting, give me seven songs one of your characters is into right now, instead. We’ll start the head people music revolution.

(Yes Jen, this means you and Grant, too.)

ETA: As a bonus, everyone gets the disturbingly awesome video for Evil

Because I love you. And Norman the Puppet.

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Now playing: Antonio Vivaldi – Nulla In Mundo Pax Sincera, RV 630 – (Aria) Nulla In Mundo: Larghetto
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I’m really impressed with the way the community has come out in such proactive support of the relief efforts for the brushfires in Victoria, Australia. There’s no bright side to something so devastating, not by a long shot, but it’s nice to be reminded that creativity bent on doing Good Stuff is nigh unstoppable.

If you’re looking for a little something to do, take a second to check out Hope #1 over in the editor Grant Watson’s blog. For a donation you can get a fabulous pdf zine full of art, poetry, short fiction, and even a sneak peek of comic book script. Really good stuff, too– I’m in the middle of reading it now and can’t stop.

Word is there will be 4 more to come, and this one has work by Mo Ali, Sophie Ambrose, R.J. Astruc, Lyn Battersby, K.K. Bishop, Matthew Chrulew, Stephen Dedman, Mark S. Deniz, d.n.l, Paul Haines, Rebecca Handcock, Simon Haynes, Kathleen Jennings, Ju Landeesse, Damian Magee, David A. McIntee, Simon Petrie, Andrew Phillips, Gillian Polack, Robert Shearman, and Daniel Smith.

Thanks to Mark Deniz for the link!

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Now playing: Suede – Whipsnade
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So I finished Vanity Fair faster than I expected considering its rather intimidating size and that I really only got about halfway through in India. I always expect the first two weeks after returning to be filled with trying to catch up with life again (stuff I meant to do before I left, people I meant to talk to before I left, restocking the pantry and fridge, soothing Lucy the Mutant Cat’s injured sense of dignity, etc.), so I never think I’ll get much reading done. But when I picked it back up I couldn’t stop.

It was brilliant. It’s like Voltaire and Dickens had a freakishly beautiful lovechild. (I realize this is impossible seeing as Mr.s D and T were contemporaries. Because yes, that would be the greatest obstacle to this plan. Clearly.)

Well that isn’t very spec-ficcy is it? No. It looks like most of my reading won’t be for the next month or so though, as I prepare for a little historical action myself. I’ve previously expressed my affection for the Regency romance genre, particularly as represented by Georgette Heyer– perfect timing after finishing Vanity Fair!– and it so happens that I’ll be dealing with something 1820s-ish myself. So you know, I need to read up starting now.

(You ever see that made-for-TV movie called Frankenstein: The True Story? It’s amazing, in a terrible way. Anyhow, I was totally inspired by that, but I’ll have even more death and violence, sarcastic Regency romance elements, and… Philadelphia. I don’t know, just go with me on this. It’ll be fun.

And yes, all my monster novels take inspiration directly from weird ass 70s remakes. Langella as Dracula makes me giddy, say what you will!)

But first, there is much editing to be done on other projects. I’m sure I’ll bother you all about that later.

(Oh wait, not enough parentheticals in this post yet. One more! That about does it, I think.)

Anyhow, we must venture out of the speculative for our reading now and again, right? Where do you go when you’re out of your chosen writing genre(s)*?

*Disclaimer: The author of this post heartily approves of genre bending and wouldn’t try to imply otherwise.

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Now playing: Mozart – No 12: Wie? wie? wie?
posted with FoxyTunes

Here, a festive someecards.com greeting for everyone, so as not to break with my own tradition that I started like two months ago.

I’ve always liked Valentine’s day– I’m a conformist like that. Even though I’ve never been convinced about love as much more than a chemical reaction (you know, like every emotion. Or as an alternative, to quote the Manics, “There is no true love, just a finely tuned jealousy”), it really does seem like a nice idea in theory.

Plus I got engaged a month after my first date with my husband, and married him four months after that. So my cover is sort of blown, I figure.

As discussed previously, I like a good love story, provided there’s a sufficient measure of insanity involved. The way people deal with someone they want says a lot about them, reveals certain character points that it’d be hard to bring out believably, otherwise. It exposes them more completely. Not every story needs it, but not every story needs blood, drugs, art, and loud music, and I tend to like those a lot as well. I’m just saying it’s a favorite with me, is all.

I’ve always felt that horror had the most interesting variations on the theme. (Example: Aaron’s Love Letter today. Hee!) Death and sex. As long as we don’t get them completely, they’ll always be fascinating. It’s why Dracula still works, and always will.

So here’s to one half of the mysterious equation. Cheers, Cupid.

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Now playing: The Clash – Know Your Rights
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I am almost convinced (quite contrary to opinion I started with) that species are not (it is like confessing a murder) immuatable.

It’s from a letter Charles Darwin wrote to a “fellow naturalist”. I was reading this month’s Smithsonian this morning and saw it in there. Gotta love the drama of a scientist who knows he’s holding a lighted stick of dynamite.

Happy 200th, pal. Still making waves, at least in this weird ass country, two centuries later. You and Lincoln. (That’s the other half of the issue this month. It’s been half of every issue of Smithsonian this year, predictably enough.)

So lest anyone think I’m not working hard (Don’t ask me who “anyone” would be– I’ve no idea), let me say that I’ve just been beta reading some fun stuff. As of today I’m fairly done. Which means I’m no longer unable to put off editing my own crap, which is always decidedly less fun.

Not fun, but it is good. At least when I edit my own stuff I feel forward progress, like I’m learning how to write instead of just puking some half-baked idea onto my computer. Making something shiny and polished as possible, seeing your baby grow up and do well in the world…

That’s the idea anyhow. But it’d never work without the beta readers and editors I’m lucky enough to talk into helping me. Fresh eyes are a necessity for me, as I tend to memorize passages after a few reads. Doesn’t make for good self-editing without a good six month wait in between.

I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately, seeing multiple posts about the difficulty of finding a writing group or consistent, helpful beta reader. There are a very limited number of reasons anyone would want to do this for someone else– the most compelling being a personal interest in a writer or their work. Equally respectable would be the idea of trading critiques or perhaps some other form of payment– not necessary with friends but useful in inducing perfect strangers to help out. (I see people talk about writing groups and how useless they are and I often wonder if they’ve gone in and slapped something up and asked for help without first helping others. Someone didn’t watch enough Sesame Street, I think. Clearly this isn’t the only reason for the failure of these groups, but you know what I mean.)

And then you have the most obvious kinds of cold critiques, the ones where it’s some bored dude sitting on his computer trashing other people because he’s angry about living in his mom’s basement and surviving on Mountain Dew, Papa Johns, and Cheetos and fantasizing about an anime character in a catholic school girl outfit. He’s trading his useless tirades for a minuscule boost to his rightfully flagging self esteem. We can’t begrudge him that, poor guy.

(Disclaimer: I do love Mountain Dew, Papa Johns, and Cheetos. Also, anime and my mom’s basement. Just saying, nothing against them.)

However, it seems to me that some people actually don’t need critiques on everything and are much more independently functional than I. I see a lot of people talking about significant others helping (my husband is a darling about it), but I wonder if people go outside looking for help very often or not. Sheer curiosity.

Do you need help much, or do you find that it throws you off? Do you have a group? Do you wish you did? Are you scarred by bad experiences? Where do you look for help? What about for longer works? Do you have any longstanding relationships that translate into Mutual Editorial Awesome? Do you pay for editorial services with mad cash (or, you know, anything else. Come on, we won’t tell…)?

In the interest of fairness, I will say that I get most of mine from amazing people I met doing fanfiction, who also write a lot of original stuff. I hang out at a writing group based on that, and all but one of my most trusted betas come from a similar pool. It’s entirely personal interest in them and their work, at least on my end. Which is not to say that I’m not a critical f#%ker, because I am, but so are they, thank god.

If you feel like indulging my inane curiosity, let me know. I saw a post like this on Fangs, Fur and Fey once, and it was pretty interesting to see what people had to say, and just how widely effective methods vary between writers. Kind of cool.

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Now playing: Kasabian – Thick As Thieves
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