ECLECTIC PROJECTS BLOG

Big Thoughts

Random Thoughts While Reading Theory: Technique of Art

Think about writing for a moment. Not the let me tell you a story kind of writing I usually talk about here, but handwriting; the physical act of picking up a pencil and writing a sentence. Think about how automatic it’s become, how long it’s been since you’ve had to pay attention to the way your hand moves or the little tics in the muscle that allow you to scribe an L instead of a T. How many little things are happening without your knowledge, or the way the physical sensation of holding a pen stops registering because the act of writing is all just an automatic reflex now. Hold onto that thought, ‘cause we’re going to come back to it. Over the weekend I started one of my long-term projects in the name of the 80-point-plan – reading an anthology of literary theory essays with an aim towards filling in my patchy awareness of the field. My goal is to read an essay a week, trying to figure out what I can learn from the history of literary criticism that’ll help me write better. The anthology’s a big book with a lot of essays, making this the only project on my plan that I’m actually expecting to take longer than the year (success is achieved if I maintain the one-a-week pace). This week’s essay was Art as Technique by Victor Shklovsky, written in 1916, about the way perception becomes automated and the role art and literature plays in breaking

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Conspicuous Acts of Cultural Consumption

Two Things Worth Reading

1) A Hundredth Name, Chris Green (Abyss and Apex; Subscription Required to Access Archives) Click the link, you know you want too. No? Okay, let me convince you then. You should go read Chris Green’s story at Abyss and Apex because the man is freakin’ talented and understands things like brevity and leaving empty spaces for the story to breathe. I’ve critted Chris a bunch of times and it’s a bloody hard thing to do, because he crams more story into two thousand words than there should actually be allowed and he fits the damn things together so tight that pulling one segment out causes the whole damn thing to unravel in your hands. You should read his story because he’s one of the few people I know who manages to give the impression of being genuinely, fearlessly interested in everything and somehow manages to filter that down into his fiction, even though his bailiwick seems to be horror rather than any of the forms of SF where being fearlessly interested in everything would be a useful trait in an author (not a slight on horror authors, but you guys need to understand fear and I’m not sure Chris does). You should read it because he can usually nail one image that makes you cringe, or cry, or wince with pain, and yet there’s still something beautiful in the stories he writes. You should read him because he’s one of my favourite-writers-who-doesn’t-get-published-enough (a distinction he shares with Ben Francisco), primarily because he seems to

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Adventures in Lifestyle Hacking

Awesome Sauce: The Victory Conditions

So here’s something I realised during my week off: I’m tired of not being awesome. Lets forestall the inevitable reassurances that tend to follow when you post stuff like that – I’m aware that I am, occasionally, capable of awesome (although it is very un-Australian to admit it, and it is said here with a modicum of irony). There have been the occasional flashes of external validation that remind me of this, plus there’s the posse of folks who make up my friends list. I mean, lets face it: Jason Fischer? Awesome; Angela Slatter? Awesome; My Call of Cthulhu peeps? Awesome; the various folks who have published my fiction? Yep, they’re awesome too. They may have their occasional moments of self-doubt in this regard, since recognising awesomeness in others is easier than recognising your own internal awesomeness, but as a blanket rule I think they all score big points on the awesomometer. As are many other folks (my DnD peeps, my family, etc) who aren’t readily linkable online. I figure that if you can find a collection of awesome folks who are willing to stay in contact and help you out, then there has to be the potential for latent awesomeness in you somewhere to justify that. So I’m not denying the fact that I’ve done some big things in the last couple of years. Things worth being proud of. Things I can look back on and say “that, that was awesome.” Basically, what I’m saying here is that my life is occasionally awesome. There

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Journal

If I’d been doing it right, I would have come back with a tan…

Not that I tan, of course, despite spending my teenage years on the Gold Coast and undergoing the mandatory time at the beach. Tanning and me don’t mix – my primary pigmentation is basically red, so I keep having conversations with doctors about how easily I’ll burn and how prone I am to little things like Skin Cancer. I could go on, but my skin isn’t really the point of this post. *sigh* Let me start again… I am, at this point, about two weeks behind on e-mail, phone-calls, text messages, facebook updates, blog reading, and social engagements of all kinds. The first week of this was unintentional – just the usual slippage that comes from trying to get too much done at the same time – but around Tuesday of last week I declared a unilateral retreat from from the world in order to spend the second week reading, mainlining ibuprofen, and living on soup to avoid further irritating an inflamed nerve in my gum. Think of it as about 45% convalescence and 55% much-needed recharge time and you’ll have the math down about right. I’m generally pretty down on non-productive periods, but I have to admit that I feel pretty good about this one. It let me actually finish reading books (btw – read The City and The City – it’s freakin’ awesome stuff), get some perspective on why I was rushing certain projects that didn’t need it, and generally sort out how to move forward.  Of course, this may have

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Conspicuous Acts of Cultural Consumption

Friday Youtubery

Doubling up this week: One of these amuses me, and the other is pure awesome. I shall leave it to you to determine which is which.

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Conspicuous Acts of Cultural Consumption

Female Appreciation Month

So the erstwhile editor of Twelfth Planet Press, Girliejones, has dubbed this month Female Appreciation Month in response to the all-around sausagefest that was the Triple J Hottest One Hundred of all Time*. Being a fan of female musicians in various genres, my immediate thought was “sure, I’ll be in that” and I went and pulled about thirty-odd albums out of my collection to serve as my listening for the coming month. All involve either female singers or female songwriters. Being the utter High Fidelity loving nerd that I am, I’m trying to resist the urge to blog at you about the absolute awesome of every single album on this list with top-five lists and random gushing. I may well break at some point. Until then, you’ll probably see a theme running through the Friday Youtubery posts. And I should be rocking out with a month full of XX chromosomal goodness. *This list, incidentally, has completely cured me of this lingering desire I’ve developed to get a radio for the house. Not simply because of the overwhelming majority of men, which I’ve come to expect from such things, but for the general trends the list shows. I mean, I know he’s recently dead and all, but when you’re voting two Michael Jackson songs into the 100 best songs ever of an national alternative and youth radio network, you are all fucking dead to me. Hell, you were all dead to me the moment Elton John appeared on the list. Billie Jean I

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Journal

This is your brain on strike

My brain went on strike about forty-five minutes after I finished the novel draft last week, and it’s still picketing against any notion of returning to work. I do keep trying to explain, quite reasonably, that I don’t need the entire brain back – just the bit that does the re-writing, and maybe the bit that writes the short stories would like to pitch in again? Heck, at this point I’d settle for the bit that writes haiku, and I’m so not a haiku kind of guy.

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Conspicuous Acts of Cultural Consumption

Friday Youtubery

It is Friday, right? I mean, I thought it was Thursday, maybe even Wednesday, but the computer tells me it’s Friday and generally it’s smarter than I am. Obviously I am very confused today, so we have Tapes and Tapes doing Cowbell. Because for months I heard it on Triple J and couldn’t work out how they were getting the bass sound they were getting in the song, and it was driving me nuts. And then I saw the clip and, aw, obviously, indie-rock with tuba. Awesome.

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Works in Progress

Black Candy update

First draft is done (making it the first novel draft I’ve finished in, what, a decade? Maybe longer?). I’m off to vegetate to the Dresden Dolls and eat my body-weight in celebratory chocolate. Tomorrow I start work on the Claw redraft I’ve been putting off for far too long…

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News & Upcoming Events

Work in the Wild

Just passing through, what with the novel draft being perilously close to being done, but I thought I’d mention a little story called On the Destruction of Copenhagen by the War-Machines of the Merfolk that went online at Strange Horizons. Not for any particular reason, mind you, I just thought I’d mention it’s there.

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Works in Progress

A Black Candy Update

I’ve not been writing well for much of this week. This is understandable, given the circumstances (dying relatives, grieving, comforting the grieving, and going in search of an affordable jacket to wear to the funeral) but it’s also kinda frustrating given that I constantly open the Black Candy draft and think “so damn close – why aren’t you done yet.” Tonight was write-club though, the one thing that keeps me productive during even the worst weeks. And I had a big ol’ night of writing, pounding out about seven thousand words during the four or five hour period that almost makes up for my somewhat sluggish pace the rest of the week. To whit, a Black Candy draft update: Part of me is feeling very pleased with myself. The other part of me is thinking “So Damn Close. Why Aren’t You Done Yet!” Four scenes to go. And that’s probably on course for an extra 8,000 words. Then I can begin the revision process whereupon the 80,000 words will start making sense.

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Conspicuous Acts of Cultural Consumption

Story Recommendations

It’s Friday night. If you too are at home, wondering how you’re going to fill in your Friday evening without a working television, I’ll make two short story recommendations: In the Lot and In the Air, Lisa Hannet (Clarkesworld) The Imogen Effect, Jason Fischer (Faraggo’s Wainscott) Between them these two stories have clockwork sideshows, Minotaur phallus, dirigibles and Led Zepplin’s Immigrant Song. And really, does your evening need anything more than that?

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