Action is more interesting than inaction.

I figured out what was wrong with the book, and with my attitude about it. Almost totally reworking the plot made it all start moving again; letting go of it as anything but a story I want to tell has made it a pleasure again. About 25K of the previous work is going or gone, and maybe 10K beyond that once I start the revise. That's okay. I like what I'm getting so much better. And there's been a lot of it: 32K this month, my rate during the intense parts of working on Fudoki. I finally like this book, a lot.

Christopher Schelling, Sharyn November, and I

Courtesy of cindachima. She also has a website.

I have an interview tomorrow on KUOW in Seattle, during "Sound Focus," their regional interest program. Check it out streaming tomorrow at 2pm, or listen to the archives after the fact.

And "The Evolution of Trickster Stories among the Dogs of North Park after the Change" will be translated into Japanese in the December 2008 S-F Magazine from Hayakawa Publishing. I am thrilled that my fiction will be in Japanese!

First draft on Kylen is keeping me busy. I've rethought much of what's happening after the first 20K, so even though I have a lot of words on paper, they mostly need to be replaced with different words. That's okay, that's why the dictionary is so fat.

Now that the children's book is off my plate (for now), and so are some documents I needed to produce for something completely other, I'm thinking about books. When I stopped working on novels in spring of 2005, I had several books under contract, and one of them, Kylen, more than half finished. I thought I would never return to Kylen, but it turns out that I not only can but must. And better to do so before I forget all my research, or plunge into the other book, which will be the third Japan book.

Kylen feels inseparable from my life when I was first writing it: in Lawrence, married, writing full-time. It was my constant companion through the medical and personal crises that changed everything, and I let it go when I let go of the other things. How will it feel to return to it now? The amount of work that needs to be done -- the spinning-up and the research and the new writing -- is intimidating. Ditto, the emotional channels that are likely to re-open.

I stalled out in 2005 for a lot of reasons, but not the smallest is that I lost faith in the book. I didn't trust my voice or my plot; I didn't trust my craft to hold these things together to the end. Do I have faith in the book now? I don't know. I am afraid I will feel it's necessary to start over -- which I don't think I could bring myself to do. And I am not sure how to re-access the passion for the book and the sense that it's worth doing.

Thinking out loud here, not complaining or asking for anything. --And telling you all that, Yes, I am writing novels again. Which for me is definitely a hurrah.

Just as last year, I am teaching the Novel Writers Workshop this summer, which involves a lot of reading and preparation. However, I am insane, so (also as last year), I am planning on also taking Jim Gunn's short fiction Writers Workshop.

I find myself once more in the position of writing three stories in a limited time. Last year, I only had an idea for one of them, so I asked athenais to pick two topics from my LJ interests list. She selected macaques and gazing into the abyss, and I wrote "26 Monkeys, Also The Abyss," which is in this year's July Asimov's.

For the third story, I posted a poll, intending to use the top two ideas to get going. In the end, I used the top four: extinct birds, sex, the Tibetan Book of the Dead, and a chatty fool to write "Wife reincarnated as a solitaire—Exposition on the flaws in my spouse's character—The nature of the bird—The possible causes—Her final disposition." I sent this precisely one place before I decided that the world probably wasn't interested in my Tristram Shandy pastiche, however successful I think it.

Both the poll and the LJ interests thing worked rather well, so I am going to see what happens this time. A few of these are leftover from last year, but that doesn't mean they're any more intriguing to me than the rest on the list. You don't have to pick four, though you're certainly welcome to.

Poll #1189521 What do you think? 2008 edition
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 80

What should the stories include?

This review makes me really happy. If you don't want spoilers, either skip the review or read the story online first.

"Compared to the studied seduction of the novel, blogging is literary pole dancing. Anyone can stand naked in the window of the public's eye, anyone can twitch and writhe and emote over the package that was not delivered, the dinner that burned, the friend who forgot your birthday. That is not fiction. That is life, and we all have one."

Goddammit, she's right.

Not that I don't have things to do. It's a beautiful day, too nice to stay inside, but I did climb this morning so I don't want to do anything especially physical and it's too cold to just lie about picnicing on berries, beer and anchovies. And, let's face it, I'm too lazy to go to the zoo.

I have been thinking about pegkerr's soul-collage project, which sounds like fun to do, though I have divers other equally cool creative projects hanging fire.

I also have been thinking about writing. I have a nonfiction essay based somewhat on my posts here (and the first of a series of climbing essays) that I would love to have someone experienced with creative NF see. NF is much harder for me to show to anyone than fiction; I feel very self-conscious about it. Are any of you, dear Readers, such, and willing to do so? Email me at my username at gmail.

Here's the good news about climbing: I fell. I fell five feet, an actual fall to the ground, not a controlled ditch. I didn't hurt myself in the least. I also climbed (and didn't fall from) a V-2 up one of the tall walls, and a V-0+ on an overhang. And I started work on a long V-4 -- very low and tricksy and traverse-y for the first half, and then it goes up suddenly and traverses back, high this time. I understand that the final few moves are possibly the hardest; but the start is plenty hard and extremely satisfying, and I'm about halfway through. And there were a couple of routes I floated up, which is the best feeling in the world. Better than sex, actually.

In her LJ a bit back, mer_moon talked briefly about "The Evolution of Trickster Stories...." (which I am not linking to, since I'm not sure if she would want me to). She and I discussed the story's themes briefly in my post about the Nebula nomination yesterday.

I realized that I'm curious about what you think are the themes in the story. The story is here. ( Spoiler. )

I am on the 2007 Nebulas final ballot!

Congratulations to everyone (me included) and a special congrats to deliasherman, whose story, "The Fiddler of Bayou Teche," from the same anthology, Coyote Road, is also on the ballot.

I need a new dress....

I just spent four hours writing fanfic. If only I had this kind of, um, passion for my own work.

No, none of you will ever read it unless I die and you're stuck cleaning out my files. I've written fanfic exactly twice before in my life, and no, you're never going to read those, either.

Shut up.

My friend and former student lanerobins's first novel, Maledicte is on this year's Locus Recommended Reading list. I like and respect many authors on that list, but there's a specific glow that comes from seeing a former student's name there.

From another friend and former student, antonstrout's first novel, Dead To Me, comes out on the 26th. He always ignores me, but I am nevertheless thrilled to take full credit for whatever he knows. The good stuff, I mean.

I suppose it's a good time for me to mention that I am teaching the intensive novel workshop again this summer for the Center for the Study of Science Fiction in Lawrence, Kansas. In the course of the two-week intensive workshop we do everything from critiquing chapters to total structural revamps. It's a lot of work, so I limit the class to six or seven students. The deadline for expressing interest by emailing me at kijjohnson at gmail dot com is April 15, but earlier is better. I'll post more about this closer to the date.

"The Evolution of Trickster Stories..." is also on on this year's Locus Recommended Reading list.

And it's been purchased for the next The Year's Best Fantasy and Horror anthology.

The official announcement is out. "The Evolution of Trickster Stories Among the Dogs of North Park After the Change" from Coyote Road, is on the preliminary ballot. I think this is my first time.

Next step: SFWA members will get a preliminary ballot with this compete list. That vote will winnow the list down to six finalists in each category, which will be voted on (again) in a final ballot to pick a single work. The winners will be announced in April at the Nebula banquet in Austin. (Austin! If I get to the final ballot I am so going.)

SFWA members, if you would like to read "Evolution of Trickster Stories..", email me at username at gmail, and I can email you the file, or send you to a private link.

( Here is the full list. )

I'm in a fic. Or I'm a muse, anyway. dichroic sort of kicked off from this post and connected it with her own experiences in a lovely careful ficlet. She asked about posting it and I said yes, of course.

This is a strange yet cool experience, reading this. After all, that was me, I was there, walking along the beach, watching my feet so that I didn't fall. It was actually pretty crowded at the park, a lot of people getting outside for an hour or two between bowl games: a couple pushing a stroller in the sand, a woman running with a baby Labrador retriever. There were clouds across the Sound, over the Olympics. I saw some sailboats out even though it was cold, because sailors are nuts. As I got to the north end of the beach, it started to get overrun with smooth rocks; I picked up a bunch and then dropped them, because I can't take them all home.

dichroic's woman walks on smooth sand on a nearly deserted beach, looks for porpoises. But her story is as possible, as real, as mine is. She is me and dichroic and neither of us, and all of us. Fiction is like that. Thank you for writing it, dichroic, and for making me think about this.

I have finally seen it with my own eyes. Yes, "The Evolution of Trickster Stories..." from The Coyote Road is on the preliminary Nebula ballot! Next step is moving from the preliminary to the final ballot. I don't remember how that happens -- one of you must know, right?

In other news, it was 4:30 this morning when I finally fell asleep, despite trying every possible sleep aid, relaxation technique, and dull book. Tatsuko kept me company through the night curled into my down comforter, wheezing gently in her sleep --until four, when she popped awake with a clear devil in her pretty eyes. She bounced on the bed like a kitten and started playing Bed Mouse with my hand, something I don't remember her doing for many years. I laughed out loud and then hoped I wasn't waking up the downstairs neighbor.

I was staggering with sleepiness today, but work was dead enough that I left early, and returned home to one of those perfect naps, when the bed is warm and soft and the sleep is so much better than mere mundane nighttime sleep. After an hour and a half I dragged myself from my mistress's arms.

I wrote for an hour or so tonight. It was nothing new, just light revision. I stopped right before the substantial reworking starts because I am being disciplined, but not that disciplined, not quite yet. Tomorrow I'll plunge in.

I was in a Polish magazine. I forgot all about that.

Okay, I think one of the files is salvageable, thank god. So kicking the foot of the bed can stop now.

I just sold "26 Monkeys, Also The Abyss" to Asimov's. I have athenais to thank for selecting two items off my interests list, "macaques" and "gazing into the abyss."

I'm trying to develop one of the essays I did for my advisor last packet. This is mostly individual paragraphs that need to work into the previous work, which is of course harder than writing all-new stuff. But it's nice to get back into it.

Packet due date is 10/13. On the docket: rewrite the endings of two annotations, plus some of my first critical paper (6pp). Write a new critical paper and two more annotations (9pp). Process letter (3pp). Then the interpolations to last packet's essay (2-3pp), and then the bones to a new essay (probably 15pp).

My schedule for the next two weeks? Write, write some more. Oh, except for the fact that my move is (finally) scheduled. I get the keys on Wednesday, and the property management company moves all the big stuff on Saturday. Oh, and then all the unpacking. It's in the same complex even though the condom conversion is likely, because I can't afford the time to look for a new place just now.

I need some fucking groceries, a bunch of toiletries and mouse litter, and then I'll never need to come out.

***

I went to the gym tonight. I did some new stuff, including a V-3+ which was as smooth as dancing. I worked on another V-3, and fell again and again on a really aggressive step up onto the world's worst jib, a tiny nub so slippery with shoe rubber that it was worse than the wall around it. And a third V-3 I also fell from a lot. I did do a V-1 I didn't like much, all about knee drops (which are hard on me), on an overhang over open space. I did it twice, just to prove the first time wasn't a fluke. It felt good, though, and I'm glad I went.

For the last month or so, I've had pain in my left foot just where the arch meets the ball of the foot. It hurts when I wear climbing shoes, but also whenever I'm wearing ballet flats. I couldn't figure it out: there aren't any loose bones there, no ligaments to strain, no bunions. Tonight when I stripped out of my shoes, I finally identified it. There's a bruise completely covering the side of the foot, so big that I didn't see it. --Not that there's anything I can do about this, unless I want to give it a week or two to heal up. I suppose maybe I should, but a black and blue mark seems such a stupid reason to take a break.

I just submitted an essay to Urban Climber. It took about 15 minutes and it made me feel better about life. Alas, I can't fake it and claim this as part of my first packet, because it was already part of my submission packet. I doubt if they'll take it, since it's right on the ragged edge of too long for where they put such things, but I'm not out anything.

In other news, I failed my saving throw to buy something again (after failing yesterday, on teeshirts). I found a perfect early '60s black wool suit. It's a boxy jacket over a dead simple knee-length skirt. Okay, I do not need a black wool suit at this time, but there will cme a day when I will need an interview suit for university positions. This is subtly unusual. Now I need to find a black Coach briefcase at a thrift store somewhere. Well, I have a year or so to look.