Selective Listening

I talk a lot about how I listen to music while writing. I won't say I make a playlist for every new project I have, especially since I have a much-evolved playlist I created for my first NaNoWriMo and manipulated a lot since. I don't always use that one, but it's there to fall back on while I'm writing. It tickles the right things.

What's inspiring me right now

So I kind of already had space scifi in mind for a future/next project.

Then I saw this .gif somewhere (I've sourced it from Daily Mail in this linkage). It's what astronauts see out the window on reentry.

Recent Flash fiction Entries (no winners yet!)

I know I talk about Janet Reid a lot, but what can I say? She's professional and informative, both of which are invaluable in pretty much any industry.

Well, every once in awhile, she'll do pretty regular flash fiction contests on her blog. She gives us 5 or whatever words to use, and a 100 word limit. I posted once before about getting a favorable comment from her on my entry.

I haven't gotten any more honorable mentions just lately, but I figured I might as well share what I'd come up with.

Most recently was the Get Well Soon Writing Contest, with key words "Evil, mono, virus, piper, blush." Here's my entry:

Black hat means never having to say you're sorry. Not that I'm evil. The shrink said I had certain sociopathic tendencies. I told him it wasn't a real diagnosis, and besides, he just wanted to sleep with me. Very Freudian.

But that kind of binary morality doesn't last past the first blush. Maybe I am a socipath, but it doesn't mean I don't want to hold hands in this monochromatic monotone drone of a Gibsonite future. None of my viruses were damaging, per se. After all, who doesn't like bagpipes? I thought police did especially, until the handcuffs snapped shut.

Winners found here, and congrats to Donna Everheart, because hers was great, and followed my thoughts for the rest of the day after I read it!

Prior to that was the Face Off Writing Contest, with key words "rose, berry, child, parker, finder". My entry:

Mrs. Parker had cuts on her hands; he noticed when they lit their cigarettes. "I never wanted children," she said.

"Haven't found the right woman." Too involved in his work, they always said.

"Is that how you became a people finder?" Missing toddler, dropping temperature. The golden flag of Drift's alert. The berry bramble tore up his arms when he lifted the little girl out, cheeks rose red.

"I guess."

"Will she be okay?"

Not with you, he thought, finishing his cigarette, stubbing it out. "You'll have to ask them."

When he left, she was still out there, smoking.

 Winners found here.

I have a lot of fun writing these. I also have a difficulty writing a complete story, beginning middle end. I seem to end up with oblique referential pieces, or things which seem to be pretentious gestures at O. Henry. Practice makes perfect, that's for sure, and I'm going to keep doing it. 

Lazy Link Roundup June 18

Hello and welcome back to the Officially Named (yeah, whatever) Lazy Link Roundup™!

First off I'm going to give you 21 Secrets for Shopping at Sephora. Not because I've ever set foot in a Sephora, or because Sephora or Buzzfeed is offering me money (hint: they're really not. I wish they were), but because some of the things on the list are fabulous novel fodder. I feel. Have to remember to use my "I statements".

Next, here's a link to get a free PetMassage CD. I haven't gotten one myself, so I cannot vouch for the efficacy of the product. But it dovetails nicely with this magnificent Youtube video on Proper Opossum Massage. I cannot vouch for the seriousness of your reaction. I know I watched some other videos and then laughed until I wept and my fiancé strongly encouraged I put the laptop down.




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In other news, if you haven't watched True Detective yet, you should. NO SPOILERS. I'm not done yet. But go do it. DO EET. It is everything I want from a television show. I also quite enjoyed the first season of Bates Motel (the second season isn't on Netflix yet). And Game of Thrones, but I read the books (mostly) first thankyouverymuch (I only just recently read the most recent book).

Remake or mistake?

I like Shakespeare. I took a Shakespeare year in high school, essentially. Two electives, one for the fall, one for the spring. We watched the movies rather than read the plays, and while we did have tests, they were easy if you'd been paying attention. My high school English teacher had concentrated on Shakespeare in college, and his love of the work combined with his command of the material made for an amazing experience which has stuck with me.

From Wikimedia Commons

Selections from my bookmarks

I've been bookmarking links for years. You know how it goes; you see something you want to read, but maybe you're not in the mood for it right that second. Or maybe you don't have time. So it goes.

My bookmarks are fairly..er.."organized". I have many folders, have had good intentions for all of the headings. Some of them pertain directly to particular writing projects (so I've got ones called "Rebel yell" and "Detroit"), at least three are for recipes I've almost certainly never cooked, and many are just things I thought might be interesting. One folder is called "inspiration", because of the piles of information in it, there's sure to be story fodder.

So, while looking at those bookmarks instead of editing The Last Song, I found a few I figured I'd share. In a way, they're loosely connected in my mind.

I thought these pictures were eye-catching, and would eventually lead me to some story or another. They're all from the 40's, if memory serves, though they're in color (!).

This one is from XKCD, and is a Radiation Dose Chart, using Sieverts, which is the unit for an absorbed dose, named after Rolf Maximilian Sievert, who studied the biological effects of radiation.

Here's A-E on The Observatory ~ The Tough Guide to the Known Galaxy. Links on the bottom take you to the rest of the definitions on the site. I'm glad I re-found this one, as I've been trying to build the vernacular for my science fiction space culture. The writer also has the blog Rocketpunk Manifesto, which looks to have even more great information on it.

And I forgot about this charming Forbes article, Why I Named my Dog After Neil Armstrong, published in 2012 not long after Neil Armstrong himself passed away.

Spacing Out

I discussed my latest science fiction inspiration last week. Untitled as yet, though I do have a main character in mind. I haven't started writing yet, not really. I've got a file of collected sentence fragments; world building, I suppose. Of course, this is research for two space/scifi/moon novels at once. There's a lot of moons, did you know that? Ours, obviously. But

Much like how I intend all of my urban fantasy books to take place "in the same world", whether they're cognizant of if or not, I also intend for my space scifi to take place in its own world. I'm not entirely sure I want these two worlds to be the same. Werewolves in space may not be my thing, savvy? Or, it might be just what we need. Hrm. But I digress. I have to build the culture, and the history, of how my humanity has become spacefaring. I need to decide what's run of the mill for them, and what's out of the ordinary. So I need to build a timeline, and to build a timeline, I need to know what the "real" one is, from V2 rockets on up.

 

(the Apollo 17 Lunar Roving Vehicle)

On Derek Walcott and Inspiration

I went to see Derek Walcott read.

He came to my alma mater, and it was a nice excuse to get out of work for a day (because everything in the world I want to do typically happens within my working hours).  I confess, I was largely unfamiliar with his work, though that was all right; he read from his most recent book, White Egrets.

I was interested to learn, during the introductory speeches, that Mr. Walcott actually had something of a long relationship with Hartwick College. He'd written a play, Ghost Dance, for the Cardboard Alley Players, directed in 1989 by Duncan Smith, who was still in the theater department at the time of my attendance. I wasn't a theater person, not really; I auditioned for things, I knew a lot of theater people, I belonged to CAP freshman and sophomore years (interestingly, the slogan on our t-shirts was "Get off your high horse and ride the pony"). Rubbing shoulders with fame and all that (history? Giants?)

I took notes through the reading, because I thought I'd be a good doobie and blog about it. Of course a number of weeks has passed, and of course my notes are nearly incomprehensible. I got down something of a "set list", but since he read only from White Egrets, it's unnecessary to relate here. It was my first real poetry reading, and it was interesting for a number of reasons. The college president, newly elected a couple of years ago, gave a speech that could literally have preceded any "creative" visitor. One of my former writing professors gave a considerably better one, having (one assumes) previously interacted with Mr. Walcott.

When Mr. Walcott read, he did so in a straightforward manner. He paged through to the poems he was going to use, did not patter in between, and engaged in no theatrics. He made the occasional wry comment; "As you get older, you write more elegies." When he came upon yet another, he said "Oh, here we go." It was a situation in which most of the room seemed not to know if it was permissible to laugh. I did.

There was a short question session before they let him off the stage. One professor I did not take classes with went on about his use of light in his poems, and asked about painters he admired. One student said that she was interested in poetry again, because of him. One student asked where he got his inspiration, which gave me pause.

We're in the room with a Nobel prize winner, having just heard scraps of wonderment from his lips, and you're asking him about inspiration?

I wonder if some people think inspiration is a rare beast, the white whale that we Ahab writers quest after across the years, braving storm tossed seas and certain death in order to fling that harpoon and yes, finally find flesh. I wonder if some people are enamored with the idea of writing, but don't much write themselves, and hold dear to their breast the idea "If only I had the inspiration." I wonder if some people never write at all, only read, and wonder at these bright things writers put on the page, these bits of sea glass that we cannot recreate, only pick up and wonder at in the sun. I say all of this not to make fun, but in wonderment of my own.

Mr. Walcott's answer was the beauty around him. He came from Saint Lucia, a beautiful place, still a young place finding its voice, and how such a thing was very fulfilling.

One of the last questions was a young man, asking Mr. Walcott's advice to young writers. In another moment of muted laughter, Derek Walcott deadpanned "Don't do it." After we quieted, he said "No, I don't mean that. The elation you feel, you still have it. But you should learn humility. Don't be arrogant, or suicidal."

Pennies from Heaven

Most people in creative fields have stock in inspiration. We're fond of that "ah-ha!" moment of epiphany, we carefully cradle our everyday creative spark, we pan for ideas the way  prospectors sought gold.

Of course, you can never predict when an idea might strike. Or how many ideas will strike in a given time period (or how few). You never know if a story thread will peter out or hit paydirt. You never know when your brilliant idea will be tarnished by the doubt of others. There are times for everybody, I'm sure, when they share a kernel of a thought that they're quite excited about with somebody, only to be diminished when they don't see that same joy in the other person's face.

I had a particularly rich vein of ideas when I was sick recently. I also frequently get them from dreams of the non-fevered variety. I get them from the news. I get them from some outside stimuli striking lightning in my brain stew. Or whatever. A muse? Maybe. I would have thought I'm too antisocial for one.

The point being, sometimes ideas seem like gifts.

I'm bad at writing thank you notes, but I wish I knew who to send this one to. 

Weird Things

Sometimes I see weird things that I don't take pictures of. I still think about them, though.

Like that stray scrap of rope on the asphalt in the Wal Mart parking lot. I know it was probably for the cinderblock that held down the cart corral. But was it?

Like the park bench that somebody wrote "Bleeding Sassafras" on in Sharpie. Did they bemoan the fact that a tree was cut down to build the bench, and thus bled? Band name? Sexual position (oh God I hope not)?

I won't even detail the things that we sometimes find in library books, and left on the shelves. Some things are best unsaid (and unseen).

I was once driving down the highway and saw a minivan pulled up just after an exit. Two Hasidim were standing there, seemingly a father and son, side curls blowing in the highway breeze, white shirts bright. The son had a suitcase at his feet. His father was talking to him seriously.

Another highway one: a metal chair between two bushes on a slight hill, overlooking the Eastbound lanes.

In the News, March 2 2012

Silence Gun:  http://news.yahoo.com/blogs/technology-blog/weird-gun-future-attacks-words-not-people-193050045.html

Debris from the Japanese tsunami to join Great Pacific Garbage Patch:  http://www.csmonitor.com/World/Latest-News-Wires/2012/0229/Debris-from-tsunami-to-reach-West-Coast-join-Great-Pacific-Garbage-Patch

Radical Camera Lets You Pick What's Blurry and What's Not:  http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052970203753704577253382656074346.html   (kind of wouldn't mind one of these, I think, after a version or two)

Animals Being Dicks:  http://animalsbeingdicks.com/  (not news, I now, but funny.)

Links for Thought

Remember how, back in October, I posted about my "favorite" ruined city? Well, for your viewing pleasure, I found a website with varying lists of abandoned places, complete with pictures: 8 Abandoned Theme Parks Abroad "Open" for Exploration is a good starting point.

In further followup to that blog post, you can watch the full documentary of Radioactive Wolves, streamed from the PBS website.

Not that I'm saying you should go exploring in these places (especially Chernobyl), but you can wear a rad gas mask while doing so. Also, have you heard of the video game, Stalker: Shadow over Chernobyl, and its sequel? There's a Russian novel called Roadside Picnic that was written back in 1971 about "Zones" that "Stalkers" went into in order to salvage things.  Here's the Wikipedia article for further detail, which also describes the somewhat odd title.

Déjà vu: When a book you're reading is a book you've read before

A lot of people are excited for the Hunger Games movie to come out. I confess, I do have an interest; I think they picked a good Katniss, and I think that the action and story flow will translate well to the screen.

However.

A few years back, 1999, a book came out in Japan and was subsequently translated to English. It was called Battle Royale, and was written by Koushun Takami. Battle Royale takes place in a fictional totalitarian state. Every year, a class of high school students is chosen to be taken to a location for "The Program", given weapons, and kill each other. There is one winner. If the students decline to kill one another, there is a time limit for nobody dying, and then they're all killed remotely and there is no winner. Pretty similar, n'est-ce pas?

Notes to Myself

I write notes to myself.

If I'm at home, I'll typically put them in any number of notebooks that I have around. I'll rouse myself from near sleep to send myself an email with my phone. If I'm at work, I grab a piece of scrap paper and scribble down the thought, or the web site, or the book, or the article, or the product. I have to search my pockets come laundry day, or these scribbles, in varying colors of pen, are shredded to bits. Lost notes are lost thoughts.

Sometimes, of course, when I find these notes, I have no idea what they mean. Zombie teabag? Hallmark channel? But sometimes making up a new answer is just as fun.

Story and Character Ideas Are Everywhere

A hipster, a sporty girl, and a businessman on a cell phone all stand at a crosswalk.

Sounds like the beginning of a joke, right? Or is it the opening of a movie? Or a commercial? Or your new book?

In the News: November 20, 2011

Dog Eats $1000 cash

If Jane Austen Lived Today, She'd Be a Blogger


Why You Forgot What You Were Just Doing

When Whales Walked In Egypt

'Zombie' Arrested for Bank Vandalism

And in that Dark Sleep

I remember reading once that Salvador Dali had a unique setup to gain inspiration: He sat upright in a chair, his hands hanging down. Under one hand, he had a plate, and in that hand, a key. He would nod off, and when the key hit the plate, he would wake up and drew what he saw in his near dreaming state.

Apocryphal or not, it's a neat story. And I can say that I myself have frequently pulled inspiration for stories from dreams.

In the News: November 11, 2011

Mars Crew Lands after 520 Days : I read articles on this "Mars Mission" with a good deal of interest and amusement. Mars Live Action Role Play? Governmentally funded? I just want to know why they didn't have space guns, and whether they had astronaut ice cream. I love astronaut ice cream.

The Bloop: Okay, I confess, not a news article in the most recent sense, but a mystery of science and nature.  Or perhaps Cthulhian. Nobody knows.

Asteroid 2055 YU55 passes close by Earth: how close did it get?: While reading about this asteroid, I kept thinking of Susan Beth Pfeffer's book Life as We Knew It. There are two more, but really, the first book was the best of them. I also wondered "Who the hell names these things?" because really, Asteroid 2055 YU55? That's a pretty sucky name.


Western Black Rhino Declared Extinct: Thing like this make me profoundly sad.

In the News: November 2, 2011

Just a few news articles that piqued my interest and seemed really cool, whether they're true or false.


'Magic' Viking Sunstone Just Natural Crystal: the dismissive tone in part of this article bemuses me. Even if it was "just" natural crystal and not "magic", it was still pretty brilliant.

Scientists Claim to Have Discovered Cold Fusion: Yeah, we've been here before. But, with video. Cold fusion! Who cares if it's true! (well, actually, I think it would be rad if it was. I have a distinct dislike of nuclear meltdowns)

Reformed Skinhead and his tattoo removal (sorry some of these are Yahoo news, it's just where I saw them first): this seems like how I would have preferred American History X to have ended. The guy even talks a bit like Edward Norton.

Chernobyl Liquidators : Pretty self explanatory.

And, for the heck of it, my Doberman, Elka:

Bruce Springsteen

Well, I was going to wait. But why not talk about Bruce Springsteen?

In my previous post, "The Order of Things", I discussed having a novel that was inspired and influenced by Bruce Springsteen's "Jungleland".  Off of the Born to Run album, which is hands-down my favorite, it's also, I think, the longest song. It's about love and betrayal and being desperate, and all the things that go on at night.