9 June 2003
What a month so far! Last night I sold another story: Fortean Bureau decided to buy "MacArthur Station." Wooo! I didn't really know what they meant by "weird," so I was uncertain about sending them stuff. But evidently this was the right flavor of weird. Yay!
I started this story after Ken's launch party, for those of you who keep track of these things, and it comes before Glass Wind but features the same characters. The same main characters, that is; there is no place for the Snow Queen at MacArthur Station. She would be small and shriveled and weak, and who wants a shriveled, weak Snow Queen? Not I, certainly. Not even the main character, most days.
(Oh, yarg, and now I'm thinking about the shriveled little Snow Queen in Oakland, and I hope you're happy with yourself. No, I don't see how it could logically be your fault, either. It just gets tiring having no one to blame but myself.)
(It was inevitable, really. I see that now. These stories are in the process of becoming an episodic novel, a little at a time -- I'm working on another one, "Rest Stop," this week and next -- and so of course the Snow Queen has to come back, and so does Deception. And possibly Revelry/Dale as well, but we'll see.)
Ahem. So. It's been a great month for selling stories so far! Hope it continues that way. Makes me very happy.
It makes me feel like I should be writing more short stories, though, to keep them on the markets. I finished "The Little Feet Go Pitter-Pat" last night -- longhand, as I had been ordered away from the computer in the late afternoon. (Reasonably so: you could probably have made s'mores from the heat of my back, and there wasn't anything that had to be done.) I'll type that today and pick at it and send it out. Not my best story ever, but it may have done what I wanted it to. We'll see when I type it.
The thing is, somehow it doesn't count in my mind. It's short-short and creepy (or at least, it creeps me out), and that's not really what I'm going for. I just figured I'd give it a shot for a specific market. But if that specific market had been, say, Analog, or Realms, or...something more general, even if it was a specific market but a story that could be sent to more general markets afterwards. Then it would "count." This "counting" thing -- I think it may be a crock. (And aren't you ashamed of yourself? Oh, right, not your fault again. Sorry. I'd say "my bad," but I hate that expression more than is strictly reasonable.) I think that if it's a story, and I'm willing to send it out into the light of day, and it has more than one market, it should "count." So, I drafted a new story yesterday, and that counts. Rah.
I read some more of The Years of Rice and Salt yesterday, too. He stopped with the chapter ending thing, just in the nick of time. I'm still just not that thrilled with it. The repeatedly reincarnated characters are not that interesting to me -- and it frustrates me more, because I really loved Green Mars, so I keep having hopes for the rest of Robinson's novels. When Antarctica came out, there was something of an issue about whether I would get to read it immediately after Timprov had finished with his copy or whether Charlie would get it first. It was suspenseful and nearly heated. And then...eh. I mean, it was all right. And then came The Martians, and I really hated most of that. Then with this, I just haven't been that interested. It's taken me awhile to even bother to get this book from the library. It's just sad.
Ah well. I'll get through it at some point, and there are other books on the stack. And other tasks on the list! Plenty of them. This week's list is probably labeled more clearly than most, things like "cake and bars: THURS a.m.," "check AC: MON." I'm on top of the list. I've got it handled. This is the day for wrapping presents. That is the day for scrubbing floors. This is the day for hugging grandparents; see also, several other days. Etc. Very orderly. I can remain convinced that things will get done.
Even if the AC isn't fixed and the place that was supposed to smog the car has a broken machine. Right. It will not be one of those days. After all, I sold another story last night. That'll improve any day.
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