I have not contracted some deadly illness of dubious provenance that keeps me in bed all hours of the day– I’m just distracted. There, I’m sure you were worried!

But no, I’ve been beta reading (fun!), world building (odd, but I do love making maps), and even jotting down some little scenes. I’ve had this weird mashup epic fantasy/clockpunk story floating around in the back of my head for a year now, and apparently parts of it are ready to gel this very moment. This is me, not arguing. But being very distracted.

I was thinking about the characters and where they come from, and I wondered, how do other people’s brains work this out? Mine is erratic, and so I assume yours will be too– but it’s the details that are most interesting. Like, what is the single oddest thing that’s ever inspired a character of yours? Your best friend, your mom, your dog, something odd you read, a picture?

Here’s one of mine. I was reading an interview with Noel Gallagher (songwriter and guitarist for the now defunct Oasis. Even if you hate the band, their interviews are always hilarious)– I think it was in Q, but I preserved it in my writing journal for future reference without proper footnotes– that went like this:

Interview Guy: [Talking about Liam, his brother and the lead singer] Do you open up to each other emotionally?

Noel: This is the closest I ever got. Over lunch in Paris two days ago. There’s about 20 of us there, including people from the record company. I’m eating my French onion soup and out of the fuckin’ blue, he’s shouting: ‘Noel! Noel! Have you ever had Viagra?’ I said: ‘No, I’m only 38, have you? ‘Yeah.’ ‘When?’ ‘I fucking snorted a line once.’ All the crew have stopped eating and are going …

Interviewer: ‘Fucking hell.’

Noel: What a weird thing to say. He’s tucking in to his steak. How does the brain send a message to the mouth and go: ‘I am going to ask our kid if he has ever had Viagra’?

And naturally, being me, I thought, “That’s f@#king awesome.” Because yes, I find the childish antics of arrogant assholes hilarious, what can I say. (That alone might explain most of my characters, but wait, there’s more!)

This combined with various evenings I’d spent in younger days, watching certain persons who shall not be named chop out lines of pharmaceuticals and snort them (hits harder and faster than popping, apparently, but don’t tell the kids) while relaxing with Adult Swim on the Cartoon Network. This was us, unwinding from a long night working at a local restaurant and bar in my home town– which I love, but is not known for its entertainments.

These elements collided to suddenly and violently form Alex Franklin, a possibly schizophrenic (but he’s not, really), vaguely nymphomaniac, vicodin (not viagra!) snorting small town waiter. He has issues with mirrors, and is the linchpin of my Wolfton world.

I also once based a vampire on Thomas Jefferson, and a whole town, in which I regularly set stories, on an alternate-reality Charlottesville. Which I guess is also very weird, but he makes an excellent vampire, for reasons that will be obvious to students of history, and boring to every one else.

What about you? There have to be some weird character inspirations lurking in there– I know you all!

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Now playing: Oasis – D’you Know What I Mean?
via FoxyTunes

Hmm, that’s supposed to be temptation greets you like your naughty friend. (At least that’s the title. The lyrics go: temptation greets you like your naughty mate//the that made you steal and set things on fire//but one you haven’t seen of late. Because with a band as awesome as the Arctic Monkeys, even their b-sides are amazing. Don’t believe me? Oh-ho! You Tube does!)

But I digress. As usual.

I’m really just here to crow because I finished my polishing edit on Scripped. Meghan and Amanda were invaluable beta readers/editors (yes, it’s different, thanks), and thanks to them I was able to figure out just how to say exactly what I wanted.

I hardly ever feel that I’ve said what I meant to, so this is big. Imperfect, oh hell yeah, but perfection is probably boring, right? (Justify!) But yay, I was productive. Forgot what that was like.

Discussion of Scripped brings me to another motif I tend to repeat: sex. I joke about all my stories being about sex and death, but be serious for a minute: what stories aren’t? Two inevitabilities of human existence (although with the former, it’s only inevitable that you’ll think of it, not necessarily get it, or even want it), both of which consistently frustrate our attempts at such ideals as logic and reason.

I don’t mean I write a lot of sex scenes, because I don’t– that’s a different genre, and a great one, but not mine. However, I’m particularly interested in the sorts of things one can show about a character in those situations. People are honest in bed– at least, if they’re having fun. Two sentences in the bedroom can reveal things about a character that’d take pages otherwise. These are not things we want to know about real people, of course, but things that are often quite useful when it comes to the fictional characters we follow from point A to point B– which to me is the main point of any story.

So how they go about getting f!#ked*, and with whom, says a lot about them**. Not always necessary, but it certainly provides some illumination at times. Is it cheating? I don’t know.

But it sure is fun.

*I am anti-euphemism. There are about three acceptable terms for this. And f!#ked is the best of them, because honesty is always the best policy.
**I don’t mean whether they’re in possession of tab A or slot B– attraction is something over which we have about as much control as we do over whether we’re born with tab A or slot B ourselves. Now, as a sideline, I’m also interested in the fluidity of general human sexuality, because I’m a firm believer in the usefulness of the Kinsey Scale, which will surprise no one, but that is not to the same purpose. I shouldn’t even have to say that, but you know, best to be clear for those who don’t know me.

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Now playing: Arctic Monkeys – If You Found This It’s Probably Too Late
via FoxyTunes

So I, like many other aspiring urban fantasy writers, like to read the Fangs, Fur, & Fey community over at LiveJournal. I could list the awesome writers who hang out there and discuss their books, their methods, their madness, but it would be too long. They do topic of the week posts, and one has come up a few times, because it’s just that good: Top Ten Signs a Work of Fiction Was Written by Me and Five Signs That A Book Was Written by Me– the latter of which may or may not have been asked by someone we know, since the name is actually spelled right.

But even those of us who’ve not published a novel could make a list like that, and in my case at least, I think it’s a good idea. Not just because I love to make fun of myself, either, but because lately I’m noticing some recurring themes that make me shake my head. Are these things that want expunging from one’s repertoire, or are they things to be embraced, like little niches? Ooooh, who knows! Opinions welcome!

Biggest one: blood. There’s a story behind this, but I do not like blood. (Who does? And no, it’s not a Dexter-level of PTSD or anything, just a bad situation with a bleeding deer in my fridge when I was 15. Let’s just say it… leaked.) I don’t mind getting blood drawn or having a bleeding injury, but the butcher counter makes me, and I’m not exaggerating, feel sick. If my husband is cooking meat, he shoos me away from the kitchen. Freaks me right the f#$k out, though I’m good with ignoring it when it’s cooked. (I’m not one of those people, dude. Give me some credit! But please, for the love of god, don’t tell me your stories about how and why you love meat. I’m not trying to preach, and never have done; show some effing mercy on my issues, please.)

But everything I write always ends up going back to blood. If you hate it, write about it, that’ll make it go away!

So what do I write about?

• Vampires who steal people’s blood in various ways (they all have a method, you know, it’s part of the vampire personality) and find it very tasty. Also, fun. My vampires love murder.
• A screwed up kid who paints with blood. That story TBA, but let me tell you, the research for it was quite an adventure.
• A bunch of medical students who, instead of using simple preservative injections on their test cadavers (common practice), make an attempt to restore the vascular system to usefulness, and end up with a zombie.
• A boy and his stepmother who create a vampire-incapacitating blood poison in the name of her revenge. (This is the one with the Vampire in a Cage.)

Oh the list goes on and on! I’m not alone in this one– could anything be a more powerful reminder of impending mortality than blood? No, no, it’s been going on for millenia before I was a blip on the radar, don’t think I don’t know it. But in fact, I don’t think there’s any repeat theme or habit we could mention about which we couldn’t say the same. It’s all been done, as they say– it’s just about making it yours.

So what’s your biggest one, do you think?

Might continue with this later, if I don’t get too annoyed talking about myself. In the mean time, my brother Nick recommended a very lovely Brahms piece to listen to while reading Grants Pass, and Boudha, on a previous post. (Yes, you can tell we’re related, I know.) I found a good recording and man. My brother is smart.

Also, happy Friday the 13th!

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Now playing: Johannes Brahms – 7 Fantasien, Op. 116: VII. Capriccio – Allegro Agitato
via FoxyTunes

October was full of awesome, as usual. That said, I’m going to stick to flash-type stories this time around, since it’s Nano month, and if anyone actually reads these things I rec, they’re not going to have much time for a big old 8k treatise. Another common thread is that they all made me laugh– some in a slightly more black way than others. Good times: fantastic, horrific laughs.

#1 is technically from the September issue of Niteblade, but hey, I read it in October. It’s The Real Snow White by Kristen Lanoue. (If she has a site, I haven’t found it. Let me know if you’re hooked up!) It’s a quick retelling of Snow White from a grouchy dwarven perspective. And I find my life is always better when there are more grouchy dwarves in it. (You think that unlikely, but let’s remember I’m a gamer.)

#2 is from 52 Stiches, king of dark flash sites: Not Easy by Michelle Howarth. Thing is, Jackie is just my kind of character– not the smarmy kind, but the, er, screwed up underdog, I guess. It probably shouldn’t have made me laugh, in retrospect, but there’s such a thing as an evil cackle at the cleverness of execution, right?

#3 is Dumping the Dead by Barbara A. Barnett. Really, I just thought it was an adorable little ghost tale, with some great lines in it. And for some reason (wonder why…) every time I see the name “Warren” I think of Angel. Not the vampire, but you know, Warren K. Worthington III. And it made me laugh to picture him in this situation. Because he totally would be.

Okay, that was a bit of a tangent, but really, it’s fun and ghosty even if you don’t have X-Men issues!

And again, in the frantic spirit of the month, I’ll let it be at that and not plague you like I usually do. If you need a little break, these are good stories to look into.

Also, one of my favorite magazines, Apex, is now offering $10 subscriptions. Small price to pay to support such a quality venue, so I thought I’d point it out in case y’all are fans too. Details can be found here.

Short and sweet this time. Back to work now, right? Right, I’ll get on that…

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Now playing: Phish – Weigh
via FoxyTunes

November is a time for examining the past year, for me– the end of the old writing year, the beginning of the new.

I decided this last year when I finished my Nano book, Camp Town. Which has since been renamed Scripped, since the words “camp town” are bound to make everyone sing Stephen stinking Foster. (As opposed to Frederic fucking Chopin. And if you don’t have the dialogue to Tombstone memorized like I do that will make no sense, but I’m leaving it anyhow, in case you do.) It’s a story about what Faerie might look like in Appalachia, specifically based on the town of Matewan, WV– which every West Virginian knows all about, and everyone else in the world has never heard of. Even though everyone knows about the Hatfields and McCoys.

I just watched the movie they made about the Matewan Massacre last night. Good stuff. Has James Earl Jones, Chris Cooper, and Mary McDonnell in it, even! Not totally historically accurate, if my WV History serves me well, but it works in spirit.

Anyhow, this year, I feel good about all the mad stuff that’s happened. It was cool that Harvest Hill came out at the end of it, too. Poor Andrew Boyd is my first published historical, er, dark fantasy. And seeing as I write about half urban, half historical dark fantasy these days, that seems pretty big to me! So, er, yay!

If it’s dumb to divide myself like that, then I don’t mind just now. Sure is fun! So here’s to another good year for all of us, huh?

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Now playing: Franz Ferdinand – Ulysses
via FoxyTunes