ECLECTIC PROJECTS BLOG
Works in Progress

The Writing To-Do list for 2010

Yesterday I sat down with the Spokesbear, a bunch of e-mail, my copy of Jeff VanderMeer’s Booklife, and a notepad to construct my to-do list for the rest of the year. It’s a habit I fell into a few years back (well, sans the Booklife part, but I suspect I’ll be rereading it often in July’s to come); those who’ve been following the blog for a while might remember the 80-Point-Plant for Awesomeness that resulted from last year’s state-of-the-union style gutcheck. Usually I’m pretty quiet about the results, but after reviewing my issues with last years list I’m going to go public with the writing portion of the process this year. It’s somewhat long. Sorry about that. If you want to skip it, I promise there will be more cat-sitting stories tomorrow. Some thoughts on the list before we kick off:      – There’s a large amount of background work that goes into the decision of  what to do with the next six months, much of which focuses on what I want from writing and particularly mistakes or poorly executed goals I put together over the last year. The original version of this post saw a rather extensive catalogue of the thinking, but I cut it back in the interests of not making this any longer than it needs to be. If you’re really interested in getting up-close and personal with the darker goal-setting patches of my psyche, I can do so in comments or a future blog-post.      – One

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22/07/2010 3 Comments
Journal

Travel and Taxes

Right now my parents are on their way to Turkey. Or they’ve already arrived in Turkey. Being unfamiliar with the vagaries of international travel and timezones, I largely just process such things in terms of “in the country” and “out of the country” and yesterday the parental unites transferred from one of these states to the other. I, on the other hand, am having one of those days when I’m dissatisfied with everything. I suspect it may have something to do with starting my taxes yesterday. There’s nothing quite so sobering as looking at your yearly income and thinking “well, that explains why I’m so angry these days.”

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21/07/2010 No Comments
Gaming

Farewell Gen Con Oz 2010

I talked to the inimitable Ben Francisco over the weekend and was immediately reminded of the fact that this doesn’t happen often enough. There is something dreadfully wretched about having people I enjoy talking too spread across the globe, accessible only via chat programs that require one of us to be awake at an ungodly hour. Not that it would change if he were local, because I am inherently lazy and am horrible at catching up with people, but there it is. Fortunately the gist of the conversation was largely worldcon is coming, yay, which means there will be a whole bunch of people I enjoy talking too in the same place at the same time. Including Ben. Which will be awesome. About ten minutes after this conversation I read the press release informing the world that Gen Con Australia is cancelled in 2010. Needless to say, this cast a pallor over the rest of the weekend. I tried to write posts about this a few times, but there’s a complex knot of baggage tagged to GCOz in my head due to the fact that I worked for them leading into their first show in 2008 (and then broke my vow of never again to run the seminar program last year). During the months prior to a show it’s name was often a by-word for greif and frustration, but the Conventions themselves…man, they were good fun to be at.  Lots of people worth talking too, lots of guests being gracious with their

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19/07/2010 1 Comment
Conspicuous Acts of Cultural Consumption

I Write Like

Bugger who I write like*, when presented with a tool of complex literary analysis such as this I can think of only one sensible thing to do with it. And now I give the you the results of my most important and detailed analysis: When you plug in the lyrics to Sir Mix-a-Lot’s Baby Got Back, you get: I write like J. D. Salinger I Write Likeby Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing! And this amuses me no end. Poor Holden Caulfield – if only he’d learned to dial 1-900-mix-a-lot, his life could have been very different**. So can we all go back to the infinately more interesting 30 Days of Television meme now? * I tried Horn, got “You write like Jane Austen”, then figured we were done. ** Of course, on further reflection, it makes perfect sense. No-one understands poor Holden and who understands those rap guys anyway?

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16/07/2010 1 Comment
Works in Progress

Conversations with Works In Progress

Act One: Yesterday’s Short Story Idea Peter sits at Fritz the Laptop, planning his writing time for the day. WIP: Oooo, I haz a title. Peter: Go away, I’m meant to be working on my novel right now. WIP: “The Unicorns of Suffragette Three” Peter: … Peter: No. I will not be lured. Aroynt. WIP: (sing-song and tempting) I have an op-en-ing par-a-graaaaaph. Peter: You do not. WIP: Yes, actually, I do. Look it’s this. (Whispers in ear) Peter: … WIP: See? Peter: I hate you. WIP: You really don’t. Peter: … Peter: Fine. Lets talk. WIP: Good. Peter: So… WIP: I wish to be long. Peter: How long? I mean, crap, I don’t have time to write something long right now. You can have five thousand words, I think. I’d really like it if you’d fit into five thousand words. Six at the outside. WIP: I want more. Peter: How much more? WIP: I want…ten thousand. Peter: Eight. WIP: Twelve. Peter: You don’t grasp how this negotiation thing works, do you? WIP: “Unicorns, unicorns, tra-la-la” Peter: … Peter: Right. Ten thousand. But if you suck, I’ll make you pay. Oh yes, I’ll make you pay. Act Two: Black Candy Peter is drinking coffee. The project he’s meant to be working on barges into the room, causing Fritz the Laptop  to shriek in terror. BC: Dude, come on. Peter: Sorry. BC: You said you’d finish me. Peter: I’m trying, but you’re problematic. BC: You knew that when you agreed to

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16/07/2010 No Comments
Works in Progress

“Unicorns? Unicorns? Tra-la-la?”

This phrase has been running through my head for two days now, often borrowing David Bowie’s voice and intonation from a bit in Labyrinth where he says something very similar. It just sits there, repeated over and over, refusing to go away. This doesn’t become dangerous until I start listening to Suffragette City and pondering what happens when I mash Unicorns and the Goblin King Jared and space stations named after David Bowie songs together. It may be congealing into a story. I thought I was done with unicorns. Alas, I am not that lucky. People are going to start thinking that me and unicorns have a thing (I swear to god we’re just good friends). Wait, ‘scuse me a sec, I have to go chase a chicken out of the kitchen. Peter disappears to chase a chicken away from the cat food. Chicken leaves kitchen with cries of Attica! Attica! The chickens really do get a raw deal, what with The Cat hunting them for food and my continued scrambling of their unfertilized embryos as a source of sustenance. Right, where was I? Oh, yes, unicorns and David Bowie. If you need me, I’ll be over in the corner with Fritz the laptop, fighting off The Cat as we try to figure out a way to make this work.

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15/07/2010 1 Comment
Journal

I call him Fritz for a reason

Today I wish to blog about oh-so-many things, but my brain is tired and poor Fritz the laptop isn’t handling the internets well at the moment, for he is updating Windows right now and the internet in the house-sitting house is capped at slow speeds, and poor Fritz is weak in the RAM and lumped with the worlds worst operating system to boot. Were I smart I’d go work with pen and paper for a while, but being in possession of a penlike object could prove fatal for The Cat* when he attempts to jump on me. And so I dance to David Bowie, and I update the blog, and I remind Fritz that I still love him for all his deficiencies because he has given me that most priceless of gifts: the ability to write on the couch, and in bed, and in other people’s houses where the computers are new and scary and save word files in odd formats that never open when I get home. And Fritz is okay with that, as long as I protect him from the Cat. And together we sing the chorus to Life on Mars? while I brainstorm story ideas.  *who I am now convinced is part rodent, for he has raided the garbage and thrown the contents across the kitchen. And he chews everything, including Fritz the Laptop and the power cord of every electronic device in the house. He seems shocked when I object to all this.

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14/07/2010 No Comments
Conspicuous Acts of Cultural Consumption

Today’s Thought

If this were a sane and sensible world there would be someone out there pressuring Dirk Flinthart to re-release his suburban Brisbane noir novella, Brotherly Love. I mean, dude, how is this ever out of print? More importantly, why has it been out of print for over a decade?  Why do I need to acquire it in op-shops and library seconds sales? I give away copies of this book semi-regularly, and it is loved with a fierce devotion by everyone who sees the words “yakuza”, “overweight computer hacker” and “army of goths” in the blurb. It’s the kind of book that causes readers to get a dangerous gleam in their eye as they contemplate the forthcoming awesomeness, and it does not dissapoint them when they read on. And alas, I’m at my final copy, which means I must now guard it like the precious and hiss at people who ask if they can read it. I must also tape it together, since I re-read this book so often that it’s going to fall apart.

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13/07/2010 No Comments
Works in Progress

Unleash the Frowns

The tenth rejection of the year came in this morning. After doing some quick research and resending the story, I went in to update my submission tracker (hint number one for writers: always update your submission tracker. Yes, right now). Then I spent about an hour making this face at the computer: Afterwards I went and sang Creep at the top of my lungs in the shower. It helped, although I suspect the neighbours now regard my off-key crooning of the line “I wish I was special” over and over as evidence that I may, in fact, be exactly that*. Now, to be explicitly clear, the frowny-face of doom wasn’t actually directed at my rejection (me, I love my rejections; it means I’m doing my job ). No, the frown was directed at the visual evidence that I’ve been letting things slide on the writing front for over a year, and it really was time to start picking up my game if I wanted to do little things like a) pay my phone bill, b) eat, and c) take over the world. You see, I’d known for a while that I was somewhat slack in 2009. If you’ve followed this blog for a while, then odds are you’ll remember be bitching about it rather consistently. But the time-frames writing operates under means you can be slack for an entire year and it’ll still take six months or more for the effects to register, and there’s one thing apparent now that was

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12/07/2010 No Comments
Conspicuous Acts of Cultural Consumption

Angela Slatter’s Sourdough: Pre-order details

Okay peeps, for your edification I’m going to mention that Angela Slatter’s new short story collection, Sourdough and other stories, is avialble for pre-order from Tartarus Press. It’ll be a limited edition of 300 copies, and I heartily recommend it (I’ve read much of the collection, which is a themed series of linked story, and it moves beyond the realm of awesome and into the realm of quite extraordinary). “But Peter,” I hear you cry, “you already mentioned Angela’s short story collection was available for pre-order a few weeks ago.” “Nay,” I tell you, “a few weeks ago I mentioned that her OTHER short story collection, The Girl with No Hands, is available for pre-order from Ticonderoga Press. Sourdough is a completely seperate book, being put out by a boutique press that does glorious hardcovers full of win. Trust me, though. You cannot go wrong by doubling the ammount of Slatter works you’re planning to add to your bookshelf.” “What?” You cry. “Two short story collections in the same year? That’s extraordinary!” “Indeed,” I tell you. “But Angela Slatter rocks the freakin’ Casbah and everyone out there has realised it. Get on board, peeps, before you’re left behind.”

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12/07/2010 No Comments
Madcap Adventures and Distracting Hijinx

Adventures in Cat-Sitting, a Play in One Act

Peter sits at the table, trying to work. He is grumpy and irritable after being woken two hours early by a deranged cat yowling at the bedroom door. The Cat jumps on the table and sits on the computer keyboard. Peter moves The Cat. Peter: What do you want, cat? The Cat: Feed me, mortal. Peter: Dude, I fed you ten minutes ago. You ate. There is no more food. The Cat: FEED ME. Peter: No. The Cat: I stare at you. Peter: Totally cool with me. The Cat:I stare with mighty stareness. Peter: Huh. The Cat: FEEL THE WEIGHT OF MY DISPLEASURE Peter: Got it. Trying to work. The Cat: I savage your toe. Peter: Fuck. Shit. Rack off, I was using that. The Cat: FEEEEEEEED ME! Peter: TRYING TO WORK. The Cat: Holy shit, there’s birds in the yard. Peter:They’re chickens. They’re there every day. You know this, because I pull you away from their pen every morning. The Cat: I savage the chickens for food! Peter: You’re starting to piss me off. The other cat, hearing Peter move through the kitchen to rescue the chickens, emerges from his hiding place. Other Cat: Food? Peter: No food. Other Cat: Cool. Other Cat disappears in a method that’s mysterious and probably involves the city of Ulthar beyond the river Skai. Outside there are chicken’s panicking. The Cat: FOOOOOOOD! Peter goes outside and saves the chickens. The Cat:Seriously d00d, feeed me. Peter: No. The Cat: I bring you offerings. Peter:

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11/07/2010 1 Comment
Journal

Bad Ideas and Cat Fights

Last night, because Jason Fischer is a bad influence, I wrote out the notes for a Blaxploitation-esque story set in the 70’s version of the Miriam Aster universe. I then put it away because I realised there’s absolutely no way of writing it without being horribly offensive or utterly driven by pastiche. Such are the dangers of not having any deadlines looming, major or minor. Fortunately there are days when I stop myself before doing stupid things and today seems to be one of them. The notes go deep into the “write this when you can afford to get punched in the face” file, at least until Jason lives up to his threat to kidnap me and go all Kathy Bates until I write the damn thing (if anyone hears about Jason acquiring a pet pig, please let me know). In other news, there are twenty-four days remaining before I am free of cats. Or, more specifically, the cat, since there are two felines in the house and I only really have issues with one of them. See, as a general rule, I kinda like cats because they embody the essence of cool. They are aloof and self-contained and are quite willing to put up with having their belly scratched because I’m the person who lays out food. They make me work for their attention and I can respect that, because generally I’m self-involved enough that I only really want to pay attention to other living things on my own terms*.

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09/07/2010 1 Comment

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