Archive for the ‘My Stories’ Category

Reclaiming Writer Jane

December 5, 2018

Mayhem and Chaos: Emblems of the Past Month

This week I made an effort to reclaim some of my identity as a writer.  It wasn’t easy and I deliberately did not keep track of my word count because I knew it would be a struggle to get anything written.  But I did write.  Even better, I finished the scene in the new Firekeeper novel that I’d been working on when everything was interrupted by Jim’s knee replacement surgery.  This week I hope to move beyond that scene and get into the next plot arc.

A lot of elements contributed to my writer brain starting talking to me again.  One was Jim becoming increasingly mobile.  Right after Thanksgiving, he was told he could start using a cane.  Almost immediately after that, he started forgetting to use his cane.  This awareness on both our parts as to how much more confident he felt about his ability to walk really freed me from keeping a metaphorical ear cocked in case he needed me to get something, remind him of something else, or any of those myriad jobs that go into being a caregiver.

Don’t get me wrong.  Jim’s not “healed.”  Yesterday marked the end of Week Five since the surgery.  We’ve been told to expect at least three months before he is anything close to “recovered.”  Even then he’ll have further work to build his strength and endurance.    So we’ve not even reached the half-way point.  Jim’s not driving nor doing any chores that involve crouching, lifting, walking on uneven surfaces, carrying heavy objects, or…  Well, you get the picture.  But life is no longer a series of problems to be solved.  We’re accustomed to our new routine.

I guess I must love to tell stories because as soon as my imagination was freed up even a little, I found myself musing about aspects of the Firekeeper novel I’d been working on before Jim’s surgery.

Here’s a trick that might be useful for those of you who write longer works like novels.  If you know you’re going to be interrupted for whatever reason – and remember to include “good” interruptions like trips, holidays, and the like – then stop in the middle of a scene where you have a good idea what comes next.  Doing this makes it a lot easier to start again.

If you write yourself to a stopping point, you may find it a lot harder to get your mind back into the story.  Even though I don’t outline or plan out in advance, still I usually have a sense of the overall arc a book is going to take.

(My subconscious is calling me a liar, reminding me of a plot twist that just hit me this weekend.)

This sense of certainty increases the closer I get to a specific scene, so not finishing that scene gives me a place slide back into the story again.  It also can help to go back and polish about a page prior to that scene, just to get back into the flow.  Even with this preparation, starting up again was not perfectly smooth.  There were fits and starts, but eventually I came to the end of the scene in question.

Various events led me to not writing over the weekend.  However, because I’d primed the pump, I found myself thinking about where I’d take the story next.  By Monday, I was eager to get writing again.

Last week I also had a phone meeting with David Weber regarding the next Stephanie Harrington project.  This was followed by a bunch of e-mails as we refined points.  Rather than this new project dampening my enthusiasm for Firekeeper, I found that brainstorming with Weber encouraged me to brainstorm with myself.  I’m sure part of the reason I didn’t feel added pressure is that we won’t be starting the new Stephanie book until well into 2019, since we both have other things to finish.

Then, just because I’m insane, I’ve started a complicated new plotline for the RPG I’ve been running for almost seven years now.  Yep!  It seems as if my writer brain is trying to make up for having been on “hold” for the last month.

So, I’m feeling pretty cheerful, looking forward to writing more, and spending time with Firekeeper, Blind Seer, and the rest.  Of course, there’s Christmas looming, and my mom’s coming to visit, but as with Jim’s surgery, I’ll plan for the interruption.

Now, off to write fiction!


My Current Story (Life AND Fiction)

November 14, 2018

Thinking Wolf Thoughts

Yesterday, Jim had the staples removed from his knee.  Today the work begins on having the tub in the front bathroom converted into a walk-in shower.  In case you were wondering, life here has not settled down.  And that means I’m not doing much in the way of writing.

Since Jim’s knee replacement was to his right knee, he won’t be driving for at least another month.  This means that, for the next month, I’ll be not only running routine errands, but also taking him to his various out-patient appointments.  Definitely a change from my preferred hermit lifestyle.

Still, as the unpredictable elements diminish one by one, I find that my “writer brain” is slowly coming back into play.  A long time ago, I learned that it isn’t being busy that gets in the way of my writing, it’s when my imagination is occupied solving other problems.  As someone who solidly shoulders personal responsibility, I tend to address each problem as if it’s a logic tree: If this, then that.  If not that, then this.  And so on, often out to several branches.

That’s sort of how I write, too.  Not logic trees, but immersing myself in my characters and living the story with them – including weighing various choices as they would.  So, right now, I guess you could say that the story I’m writing is that of how Jim and I coped with having his right knee replaced.  As that story moves closer to being completed, I have more room in my imagination for other stories.

That includes the new Firekeeper novel.  A few weeks back, I left Firekeeper, Blind Seer, and some folks you don’t know newly arrived in the ruins of the original university in Azure Towers.  Why?

Well, that’s a bit too complicated to go into here.  But maybe, just maybe, I have time to go write a few more sentences about what they encounter before Jim’s physical therapist arrives.  Shall we see?

Not Teasing

October 10, 2018

Growing Obsession

Somehow I doubt that if you’re reading this, you want to know how much rain we had on Sunday (about two tenths of an inch) or how many tomatoes we picked yesterday (about a quart of cherry tomatoes and another quart or so of romas), or how the pomegranates are doing (very well, we’re harvesting two or three every other day).

These things are very important to me.  Weather and the garden are two of the foundations of my life in autumn.  Another is pet care.  Another is…  Well, the point is, what I figure you check these Wanderings out for mostly is news about my writing.

This impression is confirmed by how “hits” go up markedly when I talk about some aspect of my work.

I’ve been writing a lot but, since I’m not one of those writers who wants to share every detail along the way, I’m caught in a bind when it comes time to write a Wandering.

Some people have commented that I’m a “tease,” when I comment that I’m busy writing or that I just finished an exciting scene, but don’t share anything about the content.  The reality is, I’m not teasing.  A tease is trying to get a rise out of those teased.  I’m not.  I’m just reporting the facts.

Why don’t I like to talk about a work in progress?  Because the story is evolving as I write.  Unlike, say, my good buddy, David Weber, who had a pretty firm idea where the Honor Harrington story arc would end way back when he started the series over twenty years ago, I really don’t know where Firekeeper, Blind Seer, and the rest are heading.  I’m on the adventure with them, a ghost chronicler hovering along behind, transcribing like crazy.

But the process isn’t that linear.  Sometimes while I’m writing a scene, I realize something about a character that gives him or her a lot more dimension.  When I’m polishing my rough draft, I’ll slide in some of this information.  This is one reason I don’t workshop works-in-progress, and rarely do readings from unfinished works.  Until the exploration is complete, I myself don’t know what’s going to happen.  What happens later may change the details I preserve.

When I stopped writing last Friday evening, I had no firm idea what Firekeeper, Blind Seer and the rest would encounter next.  On Monday morning when I sat down to answer the weekend’s accumulated e-mail,  I suddenly realized what Firekeeper, Blind Seer, and their companions were going to see when they moved along a particular passageway.

Sound crazy?  I guess it would to some people, but I bet it doesn’t to everyone.  The creative process is as varied as are those who create.  Mine has worked for me for a good number of books now, so I hope you’ll bear with me.

Ask me about the teppary beans!  I can tell you all about those.  Maybe next week?

Emotional Continuity

September 19, 2018

Elephants Remember

News Flash! Editor Deborah J. Ross interviewed me about writing, my story in the forthcoming issue of Sword and Sorceress and other things.

In it, I touch on how negative influences have had a strong impact on my writing.  Here’s an example.

Last week, I took a week off writing to immerse myself in various aspects of the Firekeeper universe before moving into the next part of the story.  One of the complications about writing the seventh novel in a series is how easily it is to gloss over small details.  Add to this that I haven’t written a Firekeeper novel in over a decade and the complexity grows.

By coincidence, my pleasure reading included a series I am enjoying very much – especially for the evolving relationships of the central suite of characters.  I’m not going to go into details, but something I read made me think about an often neglected element of continuity – emotional continuity.

When something traumatic happens to a character, something that is key to a great deal of the action of that particular book, and then in the next book, something similar (but not identical) happens, I expect the characters to comment, to remember.  When they don’t, my sense that the characters are “real” suffers.

I’m not saying that the author must provide  a full recap of past events, not at all.  However, real people remember what happened to them and those memories influence how they act in the future.  Indeed, one could argue that our core self consists of an accumulated suite of experiences.  Whenever something new happens, we seek to understand it by relating it to what we have experienced before.  When something recurs, the most common reaction is “Here we go again!”   Even new experiences are often understood by how they relate to past ones: “I’ve had milk chocolate with fruit and nuts, but never with chile pepper flakes!”

The importance of emotional or experiencial continuity is one reason that senility is such a horrible thing,  not only for the sufferers, but for those who love them.  The person you once knew is vanishing, in part because he or she cannot make those little connections to past events that are the heart of identity.   PTSD is another side of emotional continuity.  In this case, rather than remembering too little, the person is subjected to remembering too much – even to having traumatic experiences “flashback,” contaminating what in reality is a pristine or unconnected situation.

When I’m writing stories featuring continuing characters, what’s most important to me is to establish the sense that the characters have emotional continuity.  To me that’s more important than dates or order of events.  After all, humans do forget such details.  We’ve all had those discussions as to whether it was two or three summers ago that Uncle Joe got that horrible sunburn.  The sequence of events is less important than what those events did to us, and how our future actions are influenced by them.

Another element that goes into writing believable emotional continuity is making sure everyone doesn’t react the same way.  Let’s go back to Uncle Joe’s sunburn.  Uncle Joe is going to remember the pain, and maybe how dumb he felt for forgetting to renew his sunblock or for falling asleep out on the beach.  Aunt Reba is going to remember not only her concern for Uncle Joe, but the fact that their long-planned anniversary outing ended up cancelled.  Cousin Buck is going to remember how annoyed he was because Dad getting sick meant he had to call off the date he had with the pretty lifeguard.  And so on…

When I read a book in a series where the characters seem to remember events perfectly well, but not react to current events in light of past experiences (especially when those experiences were traumatic), my sense that they are real begins to ebb.  When they start reacting in light of events from decades before, but seem to forget what traumatized them two years ago, then I feel the fingers of a plot-driven author stirring the pot, rather than feeling the characters actually exist.

Does this ruin the read for me?  Not necessarily, but it definitely makes me acutely aware of how I don’t want to do that to my characters – or to my readers.  In thinking about what bothers me as a reader, I strive to become a stronger writer.

Now…  Off to write!

Absurd, Hopefully Not Impossible

September 12, 2018

The Front Page of My Bullet Journal

Last week, after I announced the publication of a new e-book edition of Brother to Dragons, Companion to Owls, a fan e-mailed me and politely asked for an update on the forthcoming Firekeeper novel.  Her e-mail expressed concern that the fact that I was doing other projects meant that I’d lost interest in or was stuck on the Firekeeper novel.

I’m here to reassure you that this is not the case.  It’s actually the opposite.  Simply put, the project has grown beyond my earlier expectations.

Initially, my intention was to write a short Firekeeper novel.  Well, I both am and am not doing that.  The story turned out to be a lot more complicated than I anticipated.  Is anyone other than me surprised about this?  So definitely more Firekeeper is on the way.  Stay tuned for details as I have them.

In the meantime, please try some of my other works.  My newest is the somewhat surreal Fantasy, Asphodel.  I’ve also produced new e-book editions of all six of the original Firekeeper novels, as well as my older novels When the Gods Are Silent, Smoke and Mirrors, Changer, and Changer’s Daughter.  Some of these are also available in print via my website bookstore.

Prefer short fiction?  My collection Curiosities is available in both print and e-book.  Looking for advice on writing?  Try my Wanderings on Writing.

As you can see, “Jane Lindskold” is more than a one-flavor author.  I hope that no matter what your favorite of my flavors is, you’ll try another.  You might be surprised by how much you like it.

So, although I’m laughing at the absurdity that my “simple” project has turned out to be a lot more complex, I’m also here to reassure you that it’s not impossible – just that the timetable has changed a smidge.

PS — The Absurd Tiger is by Rhari, whose Sandshadow portrait I featured a couple FF ago.


Brother to Dragons, Companion to Owls: New E-book Now Available!

September 5, 2018

New Cover: Art By Patrick Arrasmith

If you’re on my mailing list, you may have already heard about this, but never fear: This Wednesday Wanderings contains fresh material!

I’ve just completed a fresh e-book edition of my first published novel, Brother to Dragons, Companion to Owls.  The cover art is by Patrick Arrasmith.  I loved his stark black and white cover for the Tor/Orb edition, but I must admit, I love this color version even more.

The new edition includes the essay, “Pride of Place.”  This essay includes details never before revealed about the writing of Brother to Dragons, Companion to Owls.

The new ebook is available for purchase as a mobi file for Kindle.  You can also get it as an epub file at Nook, Kobo, i-Tunes, and Google Play.  Still prefer print books?  I have copies of the Tor trade paperback available for sale at my website bookstore.  If you order a trade paperback and want to read the new essay, let me know and I’ll print you a copy and send it with the novel at no additional cost.

Here’s the cover blurb:

Sarah talks to her rubber dragon.  She also talks to walls, paintings, and other inanimate objects.  She has incredible difficulty talking to humans.  That makes her crazy, right?

What most people don’t bother to discover is that when Sarah talks to inanimate objects, they answer.

Tossed out onto the streets from the mental institution where she has lived most of her adult life, Sarah is adopted by Abalone, a hacker whose home is the weird and wild industrial Jungle ruled over by Head Wolf.  But Sarah’s idyll with her new Pack can’t last.  Someone is searching for her – and not even the Pack can protect her from those who know her secret and plan to use her gift for their own dark ends.

Of all my novels, Brother to Dragons, Companion to Owls seems to appeal to the largest crossover audience drawn from my readers – no matter whether you first encountered my work through the Firekeeper Saga or through the athanor books or perhaps through my collaborations with Roger Zelazny or David Weber.

Here are snippets from a couple of reviews from when the book was first released over twenty years ago:

“…a quest which grows increasingly dark, sophisticated, and intellectually challenging even as it reveals deep roots in the mysteries of family and identity.  …Even hardbitten SF fans with an allergy to dragons and magics of all sorts should set doubt aside long enough to give this excellent book a try.  It’s a strikingly original work from a worthy new heir to Mary Shelley.”  Locus

“Lindskold has invented a remarkably original science-fiction idea – a literal version of the philosophy of animism… a well told novel possessing depth of characterization, textured language, a captivating setting and themes vital to contemporary society.”  Telluride Times-Journal

Tantalized?  Nostalgic?   I hope that whether Brother to Dragons, Companion to Owls is already an old favorite or is a book you have yet to discover, you’ll think about giving it a read or, at the very least, sharing the news


Toby the Frog

August 29, 2018

I Read Aloud While Matt and Bob Listen

For those of you who didn’t get enough of me talking this weekend at Bubonicon, this Saturday, September 1, I will be giving a presentation for Southwest Writers.  My topic is “Work Habits for Successful Writers.”  It will be followed by a Q&A.  Bring your questions, the more difficult the better!

Some of my books, including my non-fiction Wanderings on Writing (which talks about writing the art, craft, and lifestyle) will be available for purchase.  I will also have copies of Asphodel, which sold out early in Bubonicon’s Dealer’s Room.

My talk is open to the public, and you can get details as to location here.  A small note: The meeting starts at 10:00 a.m., but I will not go on until sometime closer to 11:00.  There is a business meeting before.  You might enjoy attending the meeting as a window into an active writer’s group whose offerings include, among other things, lectures and conferences.

As I mentioned above, this past weekend I attended Bubonicon.  For the second year in a row, Bob Vardeman, Matt Reiten, and I offered ourselves as victims – oops, I meant “participating authors” – in the Snack Writes writing exercises panel, hosted by Josh Gentry.

How it works is like this.  Josh provides a short prompt, then we have five minutes to write what we can in that time.  Audience members are encouraged to do the same.  Then, after time is called, the panelists are required to read what they have managed to write in that time.  (That’s why we’re the victims.  We don’t get to bow out.)  Then audience members are given the choice to read what they have come up with.  Usually, several bravely take the option.

What amazes me about this exercise is how different the responses are.  Let me give one example.  For this one, Josh asked the audience to come up with a genre, a character, a setting, a prop, and a line that had to be used in the course of the story.

The audience gave us the following: medical mystery, Toby the Frog, library, candlestick, and “What the…”

When I started writing, my thought was that surely everyone’s pieces would be very similar.  Weren’t the choices obvious?  Well, about the only thing that recurred was that the library was dark, thereby requiring the use of a candle.  Otherwise, the little pieces were wildly different.

I’ve met a lot of would-be writers over the years who defeat themselves before they get started because they fear they have nothing unique to offer.  A group exercise like this one is very encouraging, since it shows just how different people’s life experiences shape how they will approach the same creative stimulus.

Here’s what I wrote:

“What the…”  Joe’s voice trailed off in barely concealed shock and disbelief.

The library was dark except for the light from a single candlestick that illuminated the body of Asby, the young and overly-eager medical student.  Toby the Frog stood over her, a long needle in one webbed foot, a scalpel in the other.  His wide mouth hung open and he was laughing maniacally.

“Toby!  What have you done?”

“Huh!  See how she likes being pithed!  Wait until I slash her open and examine each of her organs, commenting snidely on her dietary habits and the health of her liver.”  [Time called]

For me, the combination of medical mystery and Toby the Frog came together with a traumatic moment from high school biology.  Even as I was writing my piece, I’m thinking: “Everyone is going to do pithing a frog or dissection.  I mean, it’s the obvious link between ‘medical’ and a ‘frog.’”  Guess what.  No one else even came close.

So, just remember.  You’re a unique voice.  That’s becoming harder to value in this day and age when it’s considered smart to pitch your work by comparing it to someone else’s work.  If that’s what you want, fine.  But feel free to feel to present yourself as original, too.  After all, you are!

Rough Writer Up San Story Hill

July 25, 2018

This last week was an interesting one for writing.  Tuesday was pretty much devoted to catching up from being away.  Wednesday, Jim went to his office in Santa Fe, and I settled in to write.

My Faithful Assistant: Kel

My intention before I left had been to take Wolf’s Search (aka Firekeeper 7) to the end of a key scene, then switch over to working on my Weird Western short story, which I had been encouraged to expand.  Pre-trip planning had taken more time than I’d anticipated, and I’d left that scene in Wolf’s Search uncompleted.  Happily, upon our return, it remained very vivid in my imagination, so I was able to slide in and write what I needed.  The scene is rough.  The prose will definitely need polishing, but it’s there.

Thursday’s plan to get back into my short story was going well until, literally between one breath and the next, my throat prickled and became extremely sore.  Within an hour, I was sniffling, sneezing, and coughing.   My head became very, very cloudy.

(Aside: In case you wonder, the problem turned out to be smoke from myriad wildfires in the area.  I have asthma that’s managed most of the time, but sometimes air quality becomes an issue.)

One of the problems with being a writer is that it requires having a clear head.  Okay.  I’ll clarify that. (Pun intended.)  I need a clear head.  I’ve never understood accounts of writers who function when drunk, stoned, or whatever.  I don’t even like to function too hyped-up on caffeine.

But one thing I will say for me: I’m determined.  After making sure I hadn’t forgotten to take my asthma meds (I hadn’t), I made a pot of lemon-ginger tea.  While it was getting good and strong, I drank a cup of coffee (caffeine is a bronchial dilator) and went back to work.  At the very least, I figured I could refamiliarize myself with the short story and work on lesser points that would lead into the expanded portion.

It was a battle, but I managed.  Eventually, I did retire to the sofa to stare at the ceiling and think, but at least I hadn’t given up.

By Friday, my throat was no longer as sore, but my voice had dropped into deeper octaves and was distinctly croaky.  Although my head was not as clear as I would have liked, I decided I could think, so I returned to my story.  I had the expanded plot arc firmly in mind and was concerned that I might lose it if I waited.  I did a lot of backing and forthing, but when I shut down, I had all the main points written.  Even better, I felt very enthusiastic about the story’s new shape.  Now I was to the point where taking a break was the best thing for the story.

Thinking back over the experience, I’m glad I’ve trained myself to write rough when I must.  This doesn’t mean that I’m not picky about my prose.  I am very picky.  As I said on one panel at Congregate, even when I’m writing a long novel, I write lean.  Some writers delight in having their effort show on the page.  I’m the reverse.  I want to vanish from my stories.  I don’t want readers to say, “Oh, nice phrase, Jane!”  I want them to feel the story has taken them somewhere else, where I don’t exist except as a the doorway that took them there.

So, this week one of my jobs is reviewing what I wrote, smoothing and grooming.  I’ll read extra carefully.  If my still-croaky throat will let me, I’ll read my final draft aloud, because that’s the best way to catch any lingering problems or limping prose.  Is this a lot of work?  Sure.  Might I have written faster if I’d just waited?  Maybe.  I also might have lost the inspiration, and finding it again might have taken a lot longer – if it happened at all.

Why I Write Both

June 6, 2018

Right now my work schedule is complicated.  I’m writing a short story on a relatively tight deadline, while I’m also forging ahead on Wolf’s Search (aka, Firekeeper 7).

The other day, a friend asked me which I liked better, writing novels or writing short stories.  The truth is, I like both about the same.  This is not the case for all writers.

Short and Long

I have friends who write novels to pay the bills, but their hearts are given to elegantly crafted short stories.  One writer I greatly admire works best at novella to novelette range.  Several writers I know can’t write short to save their lives.  Even a novella is a struggle.

For me, novels are great because they give me room to explore complicated intertwining stories.  Even when I write long – and I’ve written novels in the 200,000 word range – I don’t write “fat.”  I ruthlessly prune my prose so that even descriptions serve more than one purpose – such as giving both dimension to a character and details of an economy in the description of a meal or an article of clothing.

So, for me, writing a novel isn’t an exercise in being lazy, in not having to make every word carry some part of the story.  A novel is a place where I can tell more complex story, often one involving multiple people, each of whom has his or her own agenda.

This is one reason I find the recent emphasis on Main Characters or “MC” that has been cropping up in a lot of writing quizzes and prompts very frustrating.  To me, every character should feel as if – if you were given a chance to find out more about him or her – they would be the protagonist of their own story.  But I wander off topic.

So, why do I write short stories?

Every writer I know usually has more ideas for stories than time to write those stories.  Sometimes when I get a cool idea, I realize it will fit beautifully into a novel I’m working on.  More often, however, the idea will need its own story.  My first decision is whether that story will be short or long.

Simply put, there are ideas that are best served at a shorter length.   My “Unexpected Flowers” (recently published in Asimov’s) is under 2,000 words.  I could have turned it into a novel, perhaps an elaborate bit of literary fiction full of footnotes and clever cross-referencing as the alternate universes became more and more elaborately differentiated.  However, I don’t think it would have been a stronger story for more length.  It might well have been weaker.

In the last month or so, I have scribbled down at least three new ideas to explore when I have more time.  It’s possible one of these may become a novel, but I don’t think so.  Each one strikes me as the sort that will have more punch if told at shorter length.

Do I set a length limit when I start writing?  Usually not.  Sometimes an invitation to write for a specific project will come with an upper limit as to how long the story can be, but in those situations part of my brainstorming is coming up with a story that can be written within those assigned limitations.   If I feel the proposed story spiraling into more and more complexities, then I either put that story idea aside for another time, or I refine.

Now I’d better get back to writing.  I’ve been working on the novel earlier in the day, then the short story in the afternoon.  That may well switch, but for now, it’s a system that’s working.

Catch you later!

The Most Important Part

May 30, 2018

Completion and Inspiration

This has been a great week for feeling good about myself as a writer.

My short story “A Familiar’s Predicament” has been accepted for publication in the next Sword and Sorceress anthology.  This was a cold submission to a very limited market, so the acceptance felt very good.  I’ll let you know when it comes out.

Speaking of things coming out, my short story “A Green Moon Problem” is now live at Lightspeed Magazine.  You can read it on-line or download it.  There’s even an audio version, which I admit to thinking is pretty neat.  The “Author Spotlight” interview is worth reading, since it delves into the details of how the story came to be.  However, for this reason, it contains a number of spoilers.  Consider yourself warned and read the story first!

Later on release day, I had a foreign magazine request permission to translate “A Green Moon Problem.”  That was a nice pat on the head!

As you may recall, earlier this month my short story “Unexpected Flowers” came out in the May/June edition of Asimov’s Science Fiction Magazine.  Last week, when reviewing that particular issue of the magazine, Adam Troy Castro praised “Unexpected Flowers” in these words: “There’s the short story, ‘Unexpected Flowers’ by Jane Lindskold, unquestionably one of the great short stories of this or any other year.”

Big smile!

I also did a lot of writing.  Wolf’s Search is now nicely taking shape.  I still have a lot to write and, even after the rough draft is completed, I’ll be spending time polishing.  However, Blind Seer has stopped growling at me.  In general, I’m feeling good about the shape of the evolving narrative.

I also started fleshing out the details of another short story…

So, which is the most important of these?  While the praise for “Unexpected Flowers” was terrific, and the really positive reactions to “A Green Moon Problem” were great, and having “A Familiar’s Predicament” accepted for publication made me glow, the best part was the writing.

Why?  Because writing is something I can influence.  Next week I won’t have a new story out.  Or someone might decide they absolutely hate “Unexpected Flowers” or “A Green Moon Problem.”  Getting another acceptance isn’t really likely, although I do have another story or two out there being looked at, so it’s not impossible.  (So’s a rejection!)

But writing is something I can do that relies on me.  I’m my sole audience, my biggest critic.  I haven’t started keeping track of my daily work count because, to this point, I’ve been going back and forth, fleshing scenes out, cutting extraneous detail, writing myself notes, and things like that.  Sometimes a hard day’s work has ended up with a negative regarding words written.  But as long as the story gets better, I go to bed feeling good.

This is not saying that last week’s reminders that there are people out there I’ve never met who think my stories are worth reading don’t make sitting down to write day after day feel a little less futile.  Writing is a very solitary job.  Positive feedback, when it comes, feels good.

Now, off to do more writing!