My Big Giant Head...

Well, okay, I haven't exactly followed through on my blogging resolutions (though I have accumulated a few more really cute cat photos for Friday). But it's been a pretty interesting week in my writing life.

I knew PUBLISHER'S WEEKLY would be reviewing ROCK PAPER TIGER. I'd done a Q & A for them a little over a month ago, so I was pretty optimistic it would be a decent review. Still, this is new territory for me—another one of those aspects of being a soon-to-be published author that you can think you're prepared for, but until you experience it, well, you're not. I had a nice review come in from Library Journal a few weeks ago (you can read it here), but this is like, you know how when you go to Amazon or Barnes & Nobel and look up a book and it says "Editorial Reviews" and under that it says "From Publisher's Weekly"?

It feels very official.

The fiction reviews come out on Mondays. I woke up at 5:30 Monday AM and thought, should I look or wait till I'm awake?

I decided to get it over with.

Here's the review...It's a good one...and the little red star matches my website.

(okay, I'm not going to lie...getting the star was really awesome!)

Here's the Q & A, which was surprisingly fun to do. It was a phone interview, and in spite of my nerves and general incoherence, I had a great time talking about the book. I don't do too well when asked, "what's your book about?" but it seems that I can talk about it if someone asks me specific questions.

I found out from my lovely editor at Soho that the print version features a photo of me. A friend of mine had a hard copy and scanned the pages for me. Sure enough, taking up a good chunk of real estate at the bottom of the page is my head shot, sort of floating in the text.

It's weird, in a way. I mean, it's kind of weird to enter that whole zone where your image is something separate from yourself—but that's a part of the deal of being an author in the 21st century, and it's not like I don't have some experience with that kind of thing (I mean, hey, I worked in Film/TV). I guess what's really the weirdest thing about it for me is that this is something I've pursued for such a long time—not having a photo of myself in a magazine, but the whole dream of publication. And, whoah, here it is.

I guess I never thought it would actually happen. Or I never really thought about what it would be like if it did. It wasn't something I could really imagine. Maybe I never really tried.

I've been around creative industries and endeavors for a long time. I've told myself for years and years...don't expect a miracle. Don't believe the hype, the myth of instant, overwhelming success. That's not how it happens. One small success doesn't guarantee anything beyond just that.

So okay, I'm still being realistic here. This is just one step (albeit a big one). I have a lot of work to do on my so-called career. For example, a second book that is doing its level best to kill me that I hope is going to turn out okay. It's a struggle.

It's also more fun than I thought it would be.

As a p.s., the San Diego Padres are in first place in the National League West. Truly, it is an age of miracles!

Writing Method BONUS!!!

My working method..

I know I promised that I'd be upping the output here, and I definitely plan on taking up some of the suggestions I've been getting --and please, if there's a topic you'd like me to address, just let me know! Put a quarter in. I'll do my best. But right now I'm still running a little behind and am short a few brain-cells. So I thought maybe I'd talk a little bit about how I work. Because a lot of the writers' blogs I read deal with craft and method and, you know, how they write stuff. The problem is, I suck at talking about it, because there really aren't any grand principles, so it's all about tedious detail.

Perhaps instead, a photographic illustration...

HOW I WRITE:


And for another angle:

Revisionland

The way my writing has gone lately, my first drafts have been long, drawn out affairs, slow and painful to write. Part of the reason is that because I tend to develop the idea at the same time that I'm writing, my focus is a little sketchy. I'm researching, thinking, writing a bit, researching some more.

My first draft is like a really detailed outline and emotional sketch; it's not generally altogether focused and/or complete. But I can see the framework that I have and work with it, and though I still get frustrated at points, it isn't generally the blood oozing from my pores experience of a brutal first draft, where I don't really know what's happening a lot of the time.

The flip-side is, when I start revising a project that's gone this way, that's when I really get obsessive—when I'm in deep Revisionland, I am pretty useless for just about anything else, except regular showers, and that's only because showers help me think.

I'm okay with side projects if I have a specific deadline and somebody tells me what it is I need to do, but the creative, independent thinking part is pretty taken up with trying to get the current big WIP in decent shape.

I really should be blogging in the weeks leading up to my novel release, but I'm low on ideas. So if anyone's reading after my long hiatus, here's the deal: if you have suggestions/requests for topics, fire away—otherwise I'm going to be posting a lot of cute pictures of cats. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

I'm hanging out at Sia McKye's today!

Yeah, okay, I haven't posted on my own blog for *mumble, mumble* over a week, but I'm guest-posting at Sia McKye's Over Coffee, on some of the more mundane aspects of getting published. Well, maybe "mundane" is not the best choice of words (doesn't exactly encourage a reader to go have a look now, does it?), but I'm talking about some of the things you may have to do once you get that publishing contract. Stop by! Sia runs a great blog and it's always a good conversation.

Book People are Nice People! (the latest in a series...)

Pardon the double-duty post, but I had to put this in "News" as well as the blog...

I just received the most awesome blurb from author Nicole Mones. This was especially exciting for me because I loved her book, "Lost in Translation," which when it came out, I thought was one of the very few books by a Western writer that presented contemporary China in a way that I believed ("The Last Chinese Chef" is on the top of my To Read list).

I have to put up the blurb here, because it's too awesome not to share:

"Finally a Western writer has taken China’s domestically bestselling genre of wild, louche-life youth and re-imagined it as a highly original expat thriller. It’s a wild ride—but don’t turn the pages too fast. Brackmann’s evocation of China, funny, frustrating, frightening, sometimes tender, and always real, is worth savoring."

- -Nicole Mones, Lost in Translation & The Last Chinese Chef

I can't tell you how truly gratifying it is to have authors whose work I have enjoyed and whose books are on my bookshelves respond to mine with such generosity and understanding.

Jeff Abbott, T. Jefferson Parker, Eliot Pattison, Qiu Xiaolong, and now Nicole Mones, thank you so very much.

I know, I know...

I have been a Very Bad Blogger. I didn't even manage to do Friday Cat Blogging. I will! I swear!

Things are starting to heat up with Rock Paper Tiger's debut less than three months away. I'm really excited and pleased by all the activity and by the hardworking folks at Soho. I'll have more news to post on that front soon.

Otherwise, hard at work on the new book and fairly disinterested in the Oscars.

The writing process...

So you know that old joke about the anthropologist who is doing field research in a remote jungle, and one night, across the river, drums begin to play, many loud drums. And the anthropologist goes to the village headman, who tells him, "Do not worry about the drums. Worry when the drums stop."

For days and nights, the drums continue, but no matter how many times the anthropologist asks the headman for the meaning of this, the only answer he receives is: "Do not worry about the drums. Worry when the drums stop."

Finally, late one night, the drums. Stop.

Terrified, the anthropologist runs to the headman. "The drums have stopped! What happens now?!"

"Now comes the bass solo."

Now come the rewrites...

Friday Cat Blogging!

Spike is a 22 pound male, eleven years old, who loves loves loves little Sorscha (she's around 16 years old). The love is mutual. I frequently find the two of them cuddled together and they love to groom each other as well. It's awfully cute!

Mundane Things I Gotta Do...

For some reason, no matter how much time I theoretically have (and not working, there's a lot more of it), I still end up with a sort of tunnel vision when I get close to the finish line on a big project. Or in this case, a draft of a big project. I will emerge now and then from my weird writing coma and note that there are bags of paper (consisting of all the mail I've been shoveling into them that I've otherwise ignored, and the bags are a step up from the Random Piles of Paper that frequently occur before the Bags of Paper step), bills to pay, rugs to vacuum, laundry to do and to fold and to hang, dishes to wash...

In other words, I look up and realize I'm surrounded by chaos. And stuff I gotta do.

In this case, aside from cleaning up the aforementioned mess, I need to do my taxes. I have to put a Reader's Guide together for ROCK PAPER TIGER (a reader's guide? I am clueless!). And because I've met all kinds of wonderful writers lately, I really really really need to update my blogroll and links, particularly because the more organized among those folks have already got me on theirs.

At the moment, though, I'm sitting on my couch with two out of the three kittehs, it's RAINING (again!) with intermittent thunder for good measure, and what I think I'll do next is...continue to sit here a while...

New commenting system...

In what was one of the more clumsily handled transitions in recent interwebz history, Haloscan was phased out and replaced by something called Echo. We had the option of taking Echo or...nothing! that is, losing all our old comments (they could be "exported" for import into some future theoretical commenting system by a means that didn't yet exist). Anyway I didn't act on this so my account got ported to Echo. And it sort of works, but for some reason the comments aren't showing up on the main page today. You can't get to them by clicking "comment" either, but you will if you click on the title of the post in question.

I'm hoping they will magically fix this but I suppose I need to go complain to someone...

Enjoy the game, those of you who are watching! (I will be)

ETA: Comments are back -- it seems to have been a widespread problem.

And...GEAUX SAINTS!!!

ETA 2: Oopsie. Comments are gone again. Sigh.

Take THAT, homicidal WIP!

I typed "End" on the draft at about 3:30 AM Friday. Oh, wait, I actually didn't remember to type "End" till later in the day. But the draft is done, in spite of the sneaky little bastard of an MS trying its best to shorten my life through anxiety-provoking, non-cooperative behavior. Those of you who have had similar writing experiences know what I mean. The rest of you will just have to take my word for it -- the story was out to get me.

Now I need to name it.

On The Job Training...

So today I had kind of a shock...a good one...a Google alert pointed me to a Publisher's Weekly article listing upcoming Spring 2010 fiction/first novels -- one book per publisher -- and ROCK PAPER TIGER was the pick under Soho. I don't know if this is any kind of big deal or not, but it felt a little...weird.

I realized that for all the years I've been writing and pursuing a creative career, I've never actually thought much about what it would feel like to have some small success. I'm still not sure what I feel, to be honest (and it's too early to be making pronouncements about "success" in any case). But I seem to be spending a lot of time reflecting on writing as a career and what it means to be an author, on how I'm handling it and what I might do better.

Writers talk a lot about the passion they have for their work. I'm not sure if passion is what drives me. Passion implies an excitement, a thrill, and though I'll hit stretches when everything flows and I'm feeling some of that, I can't count on passion to get me through an entire novel. Novels are, you know, long. Very very long. And they have to be rewritten a lot. And when you sell them, there's even more work involved.

What I count on instead is a certain pride in craft, consistency and the small amount of discipline that I possess. And patience. Patience that I'm going to be able to solve the next problem in front of me. Patience to not get too freaked out when it isn't coming or it's coming really slowly. The importance of patience is something I'm just now figuring out.

So what does this have to do with my odd reaction about having my book featured in a PW article? (which though hard to define, I'm guessing might have something to do with shyness, embarrassment, a fear of exposure...)

I think, maybe, this is connected to my desire to do a good job. Because at a certain point, namely, the point where people are paying you for your work, it is a job, not just a passion. And right now, one of the things I'm feeling is that I'm not working hard enough at improving my skills, at doing a better job.

I need to read more good books, books that can teach me something about craft. I don't mean books about the craft of writing, but books that illustrate it. I want to read great stories, beautiful language, rounded, developed characters.

Suggestions, anyone?

Bad blogger...

No donut. Hell no. I'm having a glass of Rioja...

So far the end of last year and the beginning of this one have been kind of tough. I'm rooting for a positive change when the Year of the Tiger rolls around on February 14th.

Anyway, I'll be back with a new post in a day or two, and hell, I might even do one about writing. Yeah, that.

Friday Cat Blogging!

Ghost and ARC!

Please consider a donation for Haiti

The news coming out of Haiti is beyond horrific. So many people already living on the razor's edge; now this.

Nathan Bransford has links to Doctors Without Borders on his site -- they are a fine organization. You can also text "HAITI" to 90999 to donate $10 to @RedCross relief efforts in #Haiti. It is that simple. Learn more here.

I know these are tough times, but every little bit helps in the face of something like this.

UPDATE: The text messaging campaign was set up by the State Department, which is coordinating the massive relief efforts underway. They've already raised three million dollars that's going for immediate needs on the ground. Keep it coming, folks. And you can't go wrong with Doctors Without Borders either. Oxfam is another good choice.

Laura Hruska

This is not the post with which I wanted to return to blogging, but so far this young year seems to be marked by loss.

Laura Hruska, publisher and editor-in-chief of Soho Press, passed away this weekend. She was a cofounder of the press, profoundly shaping its strong and idiosyncratic vision.

I never got to meet Laura. I was hoping to do so this summer. What I know about her is that she helped create a publishing company with real vision and guts and integrity. That she took chances. She took a chance on me and my book, and I will always be profoundly grateful for that.

Another thing I know about her: not long before her death, she did an interview with the Houston Chronicle about Stuart Neville's wonderful GHOSTS OF BELFAST, in which she managed to not only promote the subject of the interview but get in plugs for a whole range of upcoming Soho titles, including mine.

Now that's a publisher.

She will be missed.

Here are some links to articles about her...

Idiosyncratic Mind

Stuart Neville's blog

Shelf Awareness

Houston Chronicle article

Welcome 2010...

It's a new year and a new decade. I've had some things going on that have made posting impossible for the last two weeks. I'll be back on it soon, with a few more posts about my China trip, among other things...

Wishing everyone the best for this new beginning...

Cat people

There's a Cat Lady in the Beijing compound where I was staying. Old, round, bundled up in layers of quilted, padded clothing, hunched over a wheeled cart she fills with kibble and canned food for her charges, the outside cats who live on the grounds. Apparently they have different food preferences, and she is very concerned with making sure that each gets what it wants. She has her own tribe of cats too, indoor cats, "four or five," she told one of my hosts, as if she weren't sure.

I had a chance to talk to her briefly, as she made her rounds. I stayed at a distance but still frightened the orange and white kitty she was feeding, though she told me that he ran off when she tried to give him medicine for his ear: "he has a hole in his ear," she explained. "The first time I gave him medicine, he wasn't afraid, but the second time, he was." I wish I could have understood everything that she told me, but I did get that much.

I saw one of the cats she feeds as I was leaving for the airport today, sitting in a box against the wall, a little shelter against the bitter cold of the last few days. He is a big orange cat, regal, wonderful coat, and if anything, slightly overfed, and he sat there with his eyes half-closed looking content with his box and his world.

I like that there are cat ladies in Beijing. I like that this elderly woman gives care and attention to these cats and receives affection and satisfaction in return. Pets were considered a "bourgeois" habit in the past, and though you can always make arguments about the morality of caring for pets in a country where millions live on the razor's edge of poverty, to me, it's a sign of humanity allowing to shine.

My favorite Beijing bar is a little place on a hutong off Gulou Dong Dajie, owned by a Mongolian. He recently took in two kittens -- I saw them in July when they were tiny, and again in November, at the beginning of my trip -- two adolescent females with the run of the bar, climbing on the laps of patrons and up and down the tree in the small courtyard. The owner lavishes considerable attention on these kittens. They have their food (good quality) and their litter and if you ask him about them, his eyes go all soft. Apparently this is a change from his former persona: "He used to be a conquerer of the steppes!" a friend told me. I always thought he seemed friendly enough, but apparently he was somewhat of a hard-ass. No more.

My last night in Beijing, I stopped in at the bar to meet that friend for a drink. The kittens were not there. The owner had taken them in to get spayed the day before. We asked after them. The owner explained: "They are at home. They need to xiuxi" - to rest.

A souvenir in questionable taste...

I mean, okay, the Red Guard, that's one thing. But the victim of a struggle session? That's a little dark even for me...

The privatization of everything...

To anyone paying close attention during the criminal clusterfcuk that was the Bush Administration's conduct of the Iraq War, this will come as no surprise. There was plenty of evidence for private contractors' (AKA mercenaries) participation in interrogations such as those that took place in Abu Ghraib. Still, here's another emerging piece of evidence illustrating how deep and how pervasive the corruption was...and I use the past tense here advisedly. From the NYT:

Private security guards from Blackwater Worldwide participated in some of the C.I.A.’s most sensitive activities — clandestine raids with agency officers against people suspected of being insurgents in Iraq and Afghanistan and the transporting of detainees, according to former company employees and intelligence officials.

The raids against suspects occurred on an almost nightly basis during the height of the Iraqi insurgency from 2004 to 2006, with Blackwater personnel playing central roles in what company insiders called “snatch and grab” operations, the former employees and current and former intelligence officers said.

Several former Blackwater guards said that their involvement in the operations became so routine that the lines supposedly dividing the Central Intelligence Agency, the military and Blackwater became blurred. Instead of simply providing security for C.I.A. officers, they say, Blackwater personnel at times became partners in missions to capture or kill militants in Iraq and Afghanistan, a practice that raises questions about the use of guns for hire on the battlefield.

Yeah, it sure does raise some questions. Here's one the article doesn't ask: why did the United States government empower a private firm owned by a right-wing Christian militarist, involving it in the most sensitive clandestine missions and not incidentally enriching its coffers by lord knows how many millions of dollars?

Will we ever know? Not if the Obama Administration persists in its enabling by continuing Bush-era policies and protecting Bush administration officials from prosecution*, and continues to insist that we "look forward," forget about the past, nothing to see here...

*and my posted link is by a pundit trying to give Obama the benefit of the doubt...

What a country...

I'm back in Beijing, where I plan to take Chinese classes (already signed up, had my first session today) and do all the writing I'm supposed to be doing (er...yeah. That). Yesterday I had the great good fortune to meet author and long-time Beijing resident Catherine Sampson -- I highly recommend her most recent novel, The Slaughter Pavilion , an insightful look at modern China and a great mystery too!

We met for coffee at one of Beijing's best known foreign language bookstores. I'm used to finding officially censored materials in Chinese shops -- I find a lot of that in DVD stores. But I honestly was not expecting to find this displayed prominently by the cash-wrap.

Some things I don't even try to understand any more...

Awesome...

I have no explanation...

If it's Tuesday, it must be Yangshuo...

I'm staying in a small village outside of Yangshuo, on the advice of guidebooks warning that Yangshuo proper, with its "West Street" filled with bars, backpackers and banana pancakes (apparently backpackers and banana pancakes go together like, I dunno, white on rice) was hardly the peaceful retreat that I craved after the urban overload that is Shanghai (even if I did spend most of the time lounging on my friend's couch). This village is awesome. It features several inns, including one with a rooftop Italian restaurant and a full wine list, and a cluster of "farmer's restaurants," dishing out the famed local specialty, "beer fish." And what could be wrong with beer fish? Nothing, I tell you. I had some, and it was delicious.

Apparently it was primarily these farmer's restaurants that transformed this village from a poor backwater to a prosperous little place whose residents are busily competing to see who can build their house the highest (I'm told that no one even occupies the upper floors; it's all for show). The restaurants attract busloads of Chinese tourists, every day. The food is cheap and good and they've cut some deals with the tour operators.

Chinese tourism is a pretty recent phenomena, and it feels that way, reminding me a bit of post-war American tourism, with its packaged tours, busses and guides waving flags to lead their charges to the next historic location ("We're walking, we're walking, we're walking..."). It can be a little depressing at times, seeing these large groups go here and there, wearing identical baseball caps, pausing in front of the designated scenic site to pose for photos, then onto the next in obligatory fashion, not seeming to take in much about the actual site at all.

Other times, I watch the tour groups, and I feel completely charmed by them. A lot of these domestic tourists are older, and I think, if you'd asked them thirty years ago if they ever thought they'd be touring their own country in air-conditioned busses, posing for photos with their loved ones, enjoying the scenery, they would have considered the notion highly unlikely, if not completely absurd.

And more and more I see Chinese travelers who take a more independent approach. Around Yangshuo, the favored form of tourist transportation is bicycle. This is a great area to bike. The traffic is light on the main road, and the side roads take you through some of the most staggeringly beautiful, unearthly landscapes I have ever seen. There's a silence here that's rare in China, when you are out on your bike, just the birds, the flowing water, the wind pushing against the trees and the earth. I see a lot of younger Chinese travelers, mostly in pairs, sometimes in small groups, on rented bikes, exploring the countryside. What a different experience this is from following around a guide reciting her memorized spiel through a distorted bullhorn.

Chinese tourists, stop uniting! You have nothing to lose but your chains...

Scenes from my walk today...

(you have to click on this one to see the whole sign and why I shot it)



(this is a goof on a wide-spread Chinese internet meme from earlier this year -- pretty funny!)

The view from my window...

And these don't really do it justice...

Strangers on a train...pt. 2

Sometimes a long trip on a Chinese train is a better concept in theory than in actuality...

I do like the train. I really do. I like the rattle of the rails, the mournful horns, the sense of distance and the time it takes to travel. I like having my little bunk surrounded by my stuff and a book and the feeling that I'm wrapped up in the quilt in this weird mobile cocoon. It reminds me when I was a really little kid, how I used to love to fall asleep in the car, in the dark. There's just something wonderfully comforting and soothing about the movement and the sounds of it.

Except for the fact that, you know, I rarely sleep when I'm actually on the train. There's the cheesy guangbo -- in the olden days, patriotic anthems and Chinese renditions of "Do Ray Mi" and "Home on the Range." Nowadays, it's more likely to be a video screen (which you can't turn off) showing whatever lame history soap is on tap, preceded by endless safety recitations. Lately, I seem to suffer some respiratory ailment every time I'm on a train for a long haul, which I'm guessing has to do with the cigarettes smoked in the vestibules and occasionally sneaked in compartments and hallways.

Then there's the food. I've never really gotten a handle on the dining car routine, and sometimes the quality of the food makes stocking up on snacks and fruit a better proposition. Kind of like flying United across the Pacific. Eating is just problematic.

There are the bathrooms, which can get pretty scummy pretty fast, and the competition for the washing up room -- well, this really only happened on the Beijing to Shanghai overnight train (insert your Shanghai jokes here), when as we were due to arrive in Shanghai, I waited behind several passengers who performed entire elaborate hygiene and beauty rituals at these shared facilities, and I mean tweezing and exfoliation level here, in spite of the fact that there were about a half dozen of us waiting to just do a simple teeth-brushing.

Plus there's the reality that most train stations are, well, pretty grungy, that getting on the train feels like you're an extra in a mob scene out of an escape from Nazi Germany movie, that finding a taxi when you get off the train can be problematic (today in Guilin, all of the legal taxis refused to use their meters, wanted to barter for the rate and when I finally settled on one, she spent the entire ride trying to talk me out of the place I'd reserved and into the "best hotel in Guilin, the most luxurious, the most peaceful, not too expensive!").

But the real weirdness of long train trips inevitably comes down to your compartment mates. I offer as an example my two day marathon from Chengdu to Xinjiang. After that epic misadventure, 22 hours from Shanghai to Guilin seemed like it should be a breeze.

And it really was, except for the aforementioned sudden onset of sneezing and nose-blowing and trying to do all this quietly in an upper bunk. And the inevitable eccentric compartment-mate.

The first guy in after me was a young man on a business trip, hauling a dolly stacked with some kind of, I'm guessing, electrical components housed in hard plastic cases. Naturally this couldn't fit in the overhead compartments or under the seats so it just squatted there on the floor. He was a nice guy though, friendly, and we bonded over our mutual loathing of the video that couldn't be turned off.

Next was a middle-aged woman, trim, energetic and loud. She came in hauling a large suitcase, a laptop and several shopping bags (she'd been on a shopping trip for clothes in Suzhou), and after she sat down, the first thing she did was get out a kleenex and blot her forehead, saying that she was "Re si le!" "Hot to death!" from her exertions. The second thing she did was pull out her cellphone and start up a loud and complicated conversation. Third, she grabbed a cigarette, lit it in the compartment and stood outside in the corridor smoking and chatting, until one of the train workers shooed her toward the smoking area -- "Ah, wo re si le!" she exclaimed again, by way of explanation for her scofflaw behavior.

Not more than twenty minutes into the trip, she was replaced by another man, who had asked the train workers if he could switch compartments. I didn't hear the explanation for his request, but whatever it was, the woman agreed, and with the help of one of the attendants carried her stuff into her new compartment.

Our new roommate had a small backpack and two small plastic grocery bags that looked much used. Thin, with sunken cheeks and a thick wedge of hair. He spoke in a quiet, near-mumble, at least he did the only time I heard him speak, which was to ask the young businessman that the compartment door be kept open part way, because it was more comfortable. He did not make eye contact when he asked this. At some point in the evening, one of the attendants shut our compartment door for the night, and that was the end of that.

He spent a lot of time outside the compartment sitting on one of the jump seats in the corridor. When he was in the compartment, for a long while he sat hunched in the corner, head bowed, forehead resting on hand, as though he'd been crushed by some terrible news. Actually, I think he was just dozing. He sat like this even when the lights were turned off and it was time to sleep. Finally, he did lie down, face down, arms and legs splayed out like a corpse. He never used his pillows or his quilt. Though the next day, he spent a good five minutes rubbing at a spot on one of the pillows with a wetted cloth.

The next day, I wanted to offer him one of my bananas, but as mentioned, he wouldn't meet my eyes. I thought maybe he was uncomfortable having a foreigner in the compartment, though he hadn't spoken to the young businessman either, other than that initial request to leave the door open. He spent an hour or so making notes on a folded square of paper, crossing out characters and writing in new ones. I decided he was composing poetry, though I have absolutely no evidence of this.

About three hours before we arrived in Guilin, his hand darted toward me with a square sweet neatly wrapped in cellophane -- "Hao chi," he near-whispered, ducking his head and looking quickly away.

I thanked him, offered him a banana, which he did not want, and ate the sweet -- mochi and bean paste.

Both of us dozed the final two hours of the ride. When we pulled into Guilin, he was still asleep, head the wrong way on the bunk, feet tucked under the pillows.

Sinister Kitsch

I've been traveling to China for a long time, but there are some things I will never claim to understand. The above is one of them.

Okay, China has changed tremendously over the last few decades; citizens are pretty much free to lead their lives the way they want, as long as they don't cross that invisible red line and get involved with politics or organizing.

But we're still dealing with an authoritarian state here. And portraying your police officers as refugees from the Cartoon Network does not really make them cuddly.

Then there are things like this:


Behold, "Haibao," which means, "Treasure of the Seas." Or as I like to call him/her/it, "Blue Gumby." Haibao is the official mascot of the World Expo 2010 Shanghai China. You cannot escape Haibao. Haibao is everywhere. Haibao does "hip-hop dances." Haibao is just a little creepy.

My all-time favorite, however, is this:

Heading to Shanghai

I'm leaving for Shanghai tonight, and I kind of wish I weren't. No offense, Shanghai. But having settled in so nicely in Beijing, I'm more in a mood just to stay here and get some writing done. Take Chinese lessons (my Chinese really sucks, and that bothers me). But this isn't the way the schedule worked out, so my pal Richard (AKA the Peking Duck) and I are taking the sleeper train to Shanghai, followed by a week or so of travel. Sigh. My Februrary/March trip here was a near solid month of travel, and as much fun as I had on that trip, I think I might still be tired out from it.

But at least I'll be staying with my good pal, Shanghai Slim, for a couple of days, and once we head south, maybe we'll run into some warmer weather, which would be nice. I plan on seeing some places I either haven't seen in years or never visited at all, and that's something to look forward to.

A random, ceaseless churning...

I'm staying near the Drum Tower, probably my favorite area in Beijing -- in a city that's become a massive monument to China's massive global aspirations, it's one of the few neighborhoods that's still built to human scale. Even so, Gulou is still characterized by the same seemingly endless construction and remodeling that goes on throughout the capital.

For example, the entire Drum Tower/Bell Tower plaza and surrounding hutongs (lanes) are totally torn up. The pavement has been jackhammered or pick-axed away, fresh asphalt laid in places though most of the lanes and plaza are still exposed, rutted dirt (making the efforts of huge tour busses trying to squeeze down tiny allies even more absurd and amusing than usual). There are stacks of gray paving stones everywhere. I have no idea what any of this is for, if it was needed or what the end result will be, though I expect I'll see it before I leave in mid-December. Walking down Guloudong Dajie (Drum Tower East Road), I navigate similar obstacles of torn-up road and sidewalk and stacks of gray brick. Workers at all hours carry beams and wallboard in and out of little stores in the process of remodeling.

There's simply so much activity here, always, all the time, in a city with thousands of years of history that never stands still.

Mysteries of the Narita Aiport...

I hadn't flown through Narita (Tokyo) in years, not since United got direct routes to China. But because I was using miles and because I had a lot of stuff to carry and didn't feel like trying to get me and all of that to LAX at 4:30 AM to catch UAL 889, I decided to go via Narita.

Interesting facts about Narita:

1. They still care about having sundries in a Baggie.

2. But you get to keep your shoes on.

3. My tri-band phone could not get any service there. (I was afraid it had finally died but it perked right up again once we landed in Beijing)

4. You can get all day internet access for six bucks by signing up with a service called Boingo.

5. Most of the toilets come equipped with bidets, and the bidets include a pre-recorded "flushing sound."

Now, I actually would love to have one of those toilet-lid bidets. I think bidets are a fine idea. What I can't figure out, though, is the purpose of the "flushing sound." It's the button on the far right with the green eighth notes. I of course had to try it. It's a very loud, somewhat distorted recording of a toilet flushing. Is this to cover up the noise of bodily functions, maybe? But why would the sound of actual peeing be any more embarrassing than an over-amped recording of a flushing toilet?

Enquiring minds, etc.

Greetings from Beijing!

And look! I'm on Blogspot! Oh for the heady days when I could just, you know, go to Blogspot and Twitter and so on while in China, without having to do anything special. But I have to say, Witopia rocks! So far it's fast and easy. Thank you, freedom and privacy advocates!

FTGFW...

Grrr...so far my attempted proxy solutions are bringing me no joy...I hope to have this worked out while in China but if not, posting, Tweeting, Facebooking, all those lovely little social networking activities will be severely limited.

Grumble...

UPDATE Commenter Nicki tells me that Hotspotshield is working -- I'd heard it was blocked. I've used that in the past so fingers crossed on that one. Plus the lovely folks at Witopia are working on my issue as well...

Bad blogger...

No donut. Thankfully, I don't like donuts.

I'm getting ready for another China expedition, and in all honesty, I'm not sure why I'm going this time. Well, there were some good reasons, but those changed. And yet, I'm still going.

I'm hoping to have the whole proxy server issue worked out so I can post while I'm gone, at least part of the time. In all honesty, this lack of access to information is one of the main reasons I decided against settling in China for the long term. I know that there are ways around the Great Firewall, but it bothers me that I have to find ways around it, and I have to wonder about the long-term prospects of a system so fearful of the free exchange of information. Not that people in the US necessarily take advantage of that freedom. And I'm concerned that the dysfunction in our political system has reached a point where we may not be able to make the changes we need to make in time to get ourselves back on the right track.

But I'd rather be able to make that choice, as feeble as it might be.

Is it possible?

I might actually be done with my galley proofs. Which means...

I might actually be done with this book.

I mean, I know, if all goes well, that I'll be promoting it and doing my best to sell it and that it's going to be a big part of my life for the next year or so. But once I hand this bundle of pages and Post-it notes in, that's it. It's locked. No more agonizing about the status of iPhones in China or Xiali taxis in Beijing or how many minutes it would plausibly take to buy a train ticket at the Beijing train station and make the departing train. Or whether words should be italicized. Or whether I left someone out in the acknowledgments.

It kills me that a person as messy and disorganized as I am in most regards can be this absurdly anal in this one particular area.

I'm sure even after all this fretting that I will have made some mistakes. China has changed and continues to change; my knowledge is incomplete and if I were writing this book now...well, in some ways I'm sure it would be a different book. But you can only do what you can do.

Mostly, I hope I did a good job.

Bad television...truly bad television...

One of the things that's nice about not having a day job--actually, everything is nice about having a day job, except for the lack of money part--but I digress...

Anyway, I have more time to devote to writing, and with getting my book ready for publication, I've needed it. But it's not like I'm taking all of this additional time and being productive with it. I find my lack of productivity frustrating at times, to be honest. Sure, I've been able to do some things more quickly-- I just finished a screenplay draft in pretty much record time (and had a blast doing it). But back when I worked full-time and was really in a rhythm, I used to crank out hour-long teleplays in a couple of weeks--at night, after work. I'm not making any claims that they were brilliant, and it's not like I made money on them, but I sure was able to put out the pages.

Now? I mainly feel like everything...has...slowed...down....And I like it.

I like having time to walk everywhere instead of driving. I like being able to have dinner and drinks with friends and not worry so much about all the work I need to do before I fall asleep. I like being able to sleep and not have to drag myself out of bed the next day feeling like cat-food. I like being able to mindlessly surf the interwebz and only feel somewhat guilty about the time suck.

And you know what I really like? Watching television.

Oh, man, I have been watching a lot of television. Lots of football (both pro and college). And...just bad television.

I mean, it's one thing to spend your time watching MAD MEN and BREAKING BAD. These are genuinely good shows. No, I'm not talking about them. I'm talking about "My Secret Shame" level of stuff.

THE BACHELOR. And THE BACHELORETTE. Oh yes. And AMERICA'S NEXT TOP MODEL. And BIGGEST LOSER. Though I can tell myself that the last one is about, I don't know, personal transformation, the Bachelor/Bachelorette is all about the train-wreck, baby! Don't look! Cover your eyes!

Hah. Made you look.

Then there is the world of Bad Hour Long Dramas. Now, some stuff I just cannot watch. All of those CSI/LAW & ORDER shows? Not interested. Medical shows, I want to like, but when they are bad, they are so bad. This new one, THREE RIVERS? Unwatchable. Even with former Vampire Detective from MOONLIGHT and hot-regardless-of-your-sexual-orientation former lesbian hairdresser from THE L WORD--which, by the way, is a candidate for my own personal Hall of Camp Fame. Wow. The one where Cybill Sheppherd comes out...dreadful. Classic.

See, it can't just be bad. It has to be fun bad. I'm not really sure what the line of demarcation is, but I know it when I see it.

Do I watch a double-bill of GHOST WHISPERER and MEDIUM on Friday nights? Why, yes, I do! Are either of these shows good? Well, I'd argue that MEDIUM is better quality -- Roseanna Arquette is great, and she might actually be in double-digits, size-wise. It's refreshing -- but MAD MEN good? Not really.

(and by the way, last week's episode of MAD MEN -- "The Gypsy and the Hobo" -- that had to be one of the most riveting episodes of the series thus far. Sooo tense! I was freaking out -- "she's in the car! She's in the car!" If you saw it, you know what I mean)

Do I actually focus my full attention on these shows? Nope. I use them as backdrop for cooking, laundry, proofing, surfing...I don't even have a TiVo, so it's live or nothing.

And then there's my latest, "Wow, I can't believe I'm watching this!" candidate -- EASTWICK.

Let me just say, EASTWICK is not a "good" show. It's been described as DESPERATE HOUSEWIVES meets BEWITCHED, which kind of covers it. The first episode was...pretty bad (and not good bad). I will say that it's improving. And EASTWICK has one thing that makes it a must-watch for me: Paul Gross.

Oh. My. God. What is it about these Canadians? Paul Gross plays the Devil, or something. It's not clear, and I don't care. He is hilarious. Smarmy-licious. Practically Shatnerian in his self-aware, nudge-wink side-of-ham performance. I'm considering a TiVo just to fast-forward through all the parts he's not in.

Yes, I am a fan.

I expect this period of television immersion is not indefinite. I'll probably get tired of it pretty soon. Maybe even tonight. I have a stack of books to read, and you know...

I just can't get into GREY'S ANATOMY...

UPDATE: THE MENTALIST? Not feeling it...

SECOND UPDATE: Several readers have left comments naming their own Television Secret Shames. I'd like to propose that those prepared to confess their embarrassing TV habits do the same. Who knows, we might get enough for a poll!

Okay, this is Paul Gross in SLINGS AND ARROWS (a show set backstage at a more than usually dysfunctional theater company), which I think I need to Netflix. Which means I need to get Netflix...

A Flock of Writers...

Anybody who follows publishing industry news is aware that this last year and a half, two years, has been one of the worst times for new writers to break into the business, to get that first deal. Publishing is changing in ways that no one can yet predict and the overall economic crisis has compounded pre-existing structural problems in the business. There are so many commentators who are more expert than I am, and I'll direct you to this post by my amazing agent, Nathan Bransford, for just one example of the seismic forces at work here.

But that's not what this post is about. Instead I want to talk about beating the odds. Yeah, this is a happy story.

My novel will debut from Soho Press next year. But it's not just me. All kinds of people I know have sold, gotten agents or otherwise achieved some publishing success during this very tough time. I'll name a few names: Judi Fennell (who sold her first three book series in 2008 and just sold a second), Elizabeth Loupas, whose historical mystery/romance will debut in 2011, Bryn Greenwood (agented, on sub), Dana Fredsti (on sub), Jenny Brown (sold three book romance series), and Nathan Bransford (already a publishing pro and now an author whose middle-grade novel comes out in 2011). I recently started hanging out on a forum at Absolute Write, where in the last couple of months, more writers than I can count have gotten agented and/or sold.

And finally, just two days ago, another writer friend scored a multi-book deal (I'm leaving that announcement to the writer in question).

I'm trying to figure out what the lessons are here, that so many writers I know are achieving career milestones during what is arguably the worst period in publishing since the Great Depression. I'm concluding two things: that serious-minded people flock together, and that a sort of positive group-think emerges, one that is oriented toward success and encourages the success of others in the group. My own progress I attribute in large part to the people by whom I'm surrounded -- I don't know that I would have known how to scramble up to that next level without the knowledge and enthusiasm of writer friends who in many cases were ahead of me in their own career progression, or at the very least certainly had a better idea of how to go about it than I did.

So, the take-away? Surround yourself with serious-minded writers. People who have the same commitment to excellence and success that you do. You'll boost each other up, and you'll fill in the gaps in each other's knowledge and experience.

I know that sounds suspiciously like management-speak (especially that "commitment to excellence and success" part), but you know what, it's true.

Plus, you know, maybe there's some kind of weird quantum physics at work here. Success reinforcing success, blasting out success waves...or something.

Okay, maybe not.

Junk mail that made my day...

You know those solicitations you get from shady companies wanting to refinance your mortgage? The ones that say "OFFICIAL US MAIL!" "DELIVER TO AUTHORIZED ADDRESSEE ONLY!!!" and of course it's a load of crap because it's just a piece of junk mail? I got one from Geico, the auto insurance company, that says, first in red letters:

IMPORTANT!

Followed by:

Do not deliver to the wrong addressee!
Do not bend, fold, spindle or mutilate
Do not lock your keys in the car
Do not wear brown shoes with a navy suit
Do not forget your mom's birthday

AND DO NOT PAY TOO MUCH FOR CAR INSURANCE!

Okay, it made me laugh. But the gecko, guys? Still not feeling it...

ROCK PAPER TIGER available for pre-order (!)

I was going to post something else today (a post about my vaguely embarrassing television habits, and I promise I'll do that tomorrow), but something came up, and even though I posted it as a news item on my Lovely New Website, I figured I'd better repeat it here...

So, yeah, I've been checking Amazon occasionally (daily) to see when my book shows up for pre-order without really expecting it to be there. I figured it would appear around the same time as the Soho catalog for Spring/Summer 2010, which I think is November. Tonight, as I was chatting with two friends in two separate chat windows, I idly surfed on over to Amazon for my routine search (because two chats is not nearly enough multi-tasking for my attention-deficit-addled brain) and, whoah...

There it was...

There are all sorts of moments that stand out in this journey to publication, some of which are pure joy and validation (getting an agent, getting the sale, seeing my cover), and others that are joyous mixed with..."Oh. Weird. That's my book."

Oh. Weird. That's my book.

Hey! Look over there!!! ----->

At my new website! It is very nifty, thanks to the amazing design job of Ryan of Dao By Design, whom I highly recommend. Take a look -- I think you'll agree with me!

UPDATE: and I absolutely must give a shout-out to graphic designer Kerrin Hands, who created the awesome cover for ROCK PAPER TIGER! (the design of which you'll see reflected in the overall look of the website). I should have thanked him by name way sooner -- I feel so fortunate to have my book represented by his work.

Book People are Nice People!

I forget what book person's blog I read that on, but it's true. I now have four very nice blurbs for ROCK PAPER TIGER from four very successful, busy authors. I don't know many other professions whose members overall are as generous with their time and willingness to help out newbies.

I'm getting ready to launch my new website (this blog will be a part of the site, no worries) and now I am faced with the enviable problem of having to rethink where I'm going to put all of these kind words...it's a nice problem to have!

Okay, that's my brag of the day. But it's also a reminder to myself -- if I achieve any level of success, I owe it to the Book Universe to pass the generosity along...

Today's Rant

I really should have "rant!" as a category - I rant far more than I talk about, oh, writing...but I promise this will be short.

I recently started riding a bike again -- sadly, not the beauty pictured in the photo above (someday...), but my old Diamondback. The area where I live, Venice, Santa Monica and Playa Del Rey - is a great place to ride bikes. In Venice, I sometimes think the bikes outnumber the cars.

But there are still too many cars, which I really don't like (a topic for another rant), so when I'm on my bike, I try to find routes that have as few cars as possible. This means the bike paths, which around here run up and down the coast, in and out of docks and past the Ballona Channel -- some truly gorgeous scenery.

I've learned to accept that pedestrians will use the bike paths. Even with the big signs on the cement that say: "Bike Path - Bikes Only!" You know, you have your tourists, your non-English speakers, and your "Special" people who don't feel the need to pay attention to such things.

What I don't understand are the folks who not only walk on the bike paths, but who just. Stand. There. In the middle of the path. Sometimes with baby carriages.

Look, people (especially you "Special" people)...I'm not that skilled a bike rider. If you do something really dorky like, unexpectedly walk in front of my bike, odds are good that I'm not going to be able to avoid you, and I may hit you.

This is something I've never understood. I get that some people are going to do what they're going to do, that they live in a bubble, or whatever. But what I don't get is, why do they trust other people to be paying attention? I sure don't.

/ rant.

The Bug Man Cha-Cha-Cha!

I, I, I...okay, first I have to apologize for not actually posting, you know, a post lately, but I'm working on a couple of different projects that are eating my brain. In the meantime, I have to share this...I'm not sure why...

Former House Majority Leader Tom DeLay on DANCING WITH THE STARS...



I blame Jeralyn at TalkLeft for bringing this to my attention...otherwise I would have been safely ignorant in my Dancing With the Stars-free household...

Friday Cat Blogging!

Yeah, it's a little Ghost-heavy lately, but she just insists on doing cute things...the bag was totally her idea...

Billionaires for Wealthcare!

As someone who is in danger of losing healthcare coverage at the end of the year, yeah, I'm taking it personally...

Friday Cat Blogging!

Wow - Ghost likes the same TV I do! Football....

And "America's Next Top Model"!

Happy News!

My awesome agent, Nathan Bransford, has a book deal of his own, for his middle-grade novel, JACOB WONDERBAR AND THE COSMIC SPACE KAPOW. If you've read Nathan's blog (and if you haven't, why not? Don't you want to read an extremely helpful, inspiring and outright funny compendium of everything you need to know about publishing? And space monkeys?), you already know what a wonderful writer he is, so it's not really surprising. But having worked with Nathan on my own MS, and watched how hard he worked selling it, I can honestly say that this could not happen to a nicer, more deserving guy.

(please pardon the cliche. I'm under-caffeinated)

Many congratulations, Nathan! And can I get a corn-dog with that book?

Play it again...

If you follow China news, it's been a depressing time. Ethnic-based riots in Xinjiang (all laid on "foreign-based splittist/terrorists" — who knew Rebiya Kadeer was all-powerful?), increased internet censorship, including a shut-down of social networking and blogging sites, a concerted attack on China's civil rights lawyers and rule of law movement...it's been bad, if not entirely surprising. Xinjiang aside, these kinds of crackdowns are cyclical, often coming around important internal events — for example, the '08 Olympics and now, the upcoming 60th National Day on Oct. 1.

In the run-up to the Olympics, Beijing's streets were cleared of migrants, human rights activists arrested, visa restrictions tightened, ancient neighborhoods cleared in the name of modernization. On the other side, new subway lines were built (which if you've spent any time in Beijing, you'll know what a blessing these are) and internet censorship, at least of foreign news and blogging sites, was loosened considerably.

A swing to repression is pretty predictable given the 60th National Day celebrations, but this latest crackdown still feels qualitatively different somehow. The harassment, detention and arrest of legal scholars like Xu Zhiyong seemed to signal a repudiation of even the most gradualist move toward establishing an effective legal and constitutional system to counterbalance one party rule (and I do believe that there are many members of the Party in question who support a genuine rule of law).

All of this is depressing and worrisome, and it makes me wonder if China is heading down a much bumpier road than a lot of believers in China's Inevitable Rise are predicting.

Via China Digital Times comes this very interesting article from the Sydney Morning Herald speculating that the recent repression and restrictions are tied both to the inability of China's political system to adapt to social strains and to a factional power struggle at the highest levels of the CCP:

The risk to China's political and therefore economic stability is that these social challenges are taking place at a time of political transition, when leadership contestants may be tempted to exploit social fissures for their own political gain.

There are some well-connected political observers in Beijing who believe that the party's recent across-the-board political and security tightening, including a ruthless attack on the legal profession, is linked to efforts by the vice-president, Xi Jinping, to secure the leadership of the country by 2012.

They say Xi is desperately wooing the hardliners, mainly allies of former president Jiang Zemin, who control the party's core security apparatus: internal security, propaganda and the military. Xi's immediate goal is to lock in a promotion to be vice-chairman of the Central Military Commission this month, in time for the National Day military extravaganza on October 1. President Hu Jintao received the same promotion at the same point in his transition to the leadership in 2002.

Beyond Xi, senior party figures are manoeuvring to get themselves or their allies into the nine-member Politburo Standing Committee by the time of the next party congress in 2012. Everywhere, cadres are competing to out-tough each other.

The internal competition is more unpredictable than usual because the party no longer has any god-like revolutionary heroes to defer to. Hu Jintao, for example, was anointed as a future party boss long ago by Deng Xiaoping. And Hu Jintao has nothing like the personal grip on power that most of his predecessors have had.Nicholas Bequelin, an observer of China's security apparatus, and Xinjiang in particular, explains what is at stake:

"China hasn't done its political landing yet. Everybody is hoping it's going to be a soft landing but there is a huge question mark over China's future because the one-party system is not sustainable in the long term - the institutional structures cannot cope with social concerns and social problems.

"There are many different futures China's boiling in the pot today. Some of them are very encouraging: the rule of law, the harmonious society program. But you also have this harder-edge China, this nationalist attitude, a rise in xenophobia, criminalisation of segments of society - these are things that could unravel.

"The window of political change is limited; there are many scenarios that would derail China's modernisation and reform, one of them being a progressive takeover by the security forces.

There's more, and I think it's worth reading.

I'm far from expert at the ins and outs of China's current leadership. If there's anyone out there with an informed opinion or two, I would love to hear from you. But a larger conflict of this sort does go a ways toward explaining the queasy intuition I have that this is something more serious than another rounding up of the usual suspects.

Joe Biden as you've never seen him...

*SNORK!*

"The Gonzales Cantata"

(H/T to sdlorac)

I got nuthin'

I've been under the weather the last few days due to all the ash and crap in the air from the latest horrific LA fire. I'm too tired to even rant. I've been working on a new website (coming soon!), a synopsis for a screenplay project and the WIP, that is, when my head is clear enough to think a little. I hope everyone's having a good, productive week. Stay safe.

Friday Cat Blogging!

I've got too many choices for cute this week...here are a few!

Guess where I am?

The online "me," that is. I'm at Sia McKye's wonderful blog, "Over Coffee." You'll recognize the first part of the post, if you read this blog, but the second part is new stuff - I answer a few questions from Sia. Stop on by! She runs a great blog, with regular writer interviews, book reviews and tips about promotion and marketing.

Back to work...

On the topic of "showing up..."

I have a short project to finish and a WIP to get back to—which, if it pleases the Muses who may or may not exist, I am hoping actually makes sense and will not collapse in a steaming pile of...rubble...before I get to the end—anyway, I have work to do, and the sudden realization that I don't have all that much time in which to do it. Gulp.

My WIP is set in Mexico and is another tale of existential suspense — I'm not sure exactly what that means, but I like the way it sounds. I am at that just over midway point where I honestly don't know if it will hold together or not. Which I guess is part of the suspense, right?

What are you working on?

Some thoughts on getting published...

Writing a novel is a lot of work. Okay, I've known that for a while. I've written a few. This last one, the one that got me an agent and then a deal, took so much time and effort that I'd joke it was written in dog years. And that it was trying to kill me, I was pretty sure. That last bit might not have been a joke.

The part that I'd only previously known on an intellectual level is that getting published is also a lot of work. I mean, this should be obvious, and I sort of knew it, but until I went through it, I didn't actually know it.

All of the sudden, you're getting paid for your work. And people are depending on you. Your agent. Your editor. Your PR person. An entire infrastructure. You've signed a contract, and you have to deliver, quality work, on time. There are hard deadlines. Publication schedules. Catalogs for the upcoming season. I think that's the first time I really absorbed that the whole thing was real, when I downloaded Soho's catalog, read all of the book descriptions, the author bios. Wow, I thought. I'm going to be in one of these. Me and my book. Shit.

There's the book itself. Editorial revisions. Line edits. A galley proof yet to come. And then there's everything else that comes with being an author in the modern world. A bio. Photos. A new website. Marketing ideas. Where am I known? Who do I know? How can I help my own chances of success?

It's that whole notion of thinking of yourself and your work as a product, as a brand. Most of us writer types are introverts, and we can all fulminate against this cultural trend of marketing uber alles (and I have), but this is the reality. It's a part of our job, as authors. And if there's one thing this whole experience has brought home to me, it's that being a published author is a job.

Well, duh, right? And I've taken that sort of workman's approach to my writing in general for the past few years. A writing book I've often recommended to people suffering from creative blocks is Steven Pressfield's The War of Art. It's a little repetitive and has its metaphysical aspects which may or may not be helpful to a lot of people. But one of the basic messages I appreciated very much is, you have to think of your creative work as a job. Meaning, you can't wait around for the Muses to inspire you. Because what's the first rule of a job? You show up. Whether you're inspired or not. Whether you want to or not. Eventually that kind of discipline rewards you with productive output.

It worked for me, anyway. I'm not one of these writers who has to write, who churns out thousands of words at a sitting. It takes a lot of effort for me, a lot of the time. Ultimately I'm happier when I'm writing than when I'm not writing, so I make myself do it, whether I feel like it or not.

You can carry over a lot of other things from thinking of your writing as a job. You have to work with other people. At times you have to put aside your ego and listen to what others have to say about your work and accept their criticism. You have to distinguish between trivialities and the things that really matter to the integrity of your work.

This experience has given me new sympathy for publishers—and agents—and the reluctance they might have to take on debut authors. Though I think if you write a good book, it's pretty clear that you have some discipline, still, there's always that risk that a new novelist isn't going to be able to work to deadline, or work and play well with others, that she might be a big pain in the ass, and not worth the investment of time and money. Because that's the other thing you need to understand, if you don't know this already: agents and publishers are making a significant investment in you, of their own time and potential income.

Me, I take a lot of pride in my craftsmanship, and as I've gone through this process, I've realized that I also take a lot of pride in doing a good job. In getting the work done right, on time, or even ahead of schedule. This is a job that I really enjoy. One where I show up. One that I might even be good at. I like that.

My cover!!!!!!

Which I happen to think is pretty freakin' awesome. Click on the image for a larger view!

Best "Writing A Novel" post ever!

Just go read it. I'm still laughing!

"Writing a novel, a love story..."

So close...

It's another gorgeous day here in Venice CA, and I really really really want to get outside and enjoy it. Or failing that, procrastinate and find more interesting blogs to read. But I am almost done with my line edits for the book, and I really really REALLY want to finish today.

So please excuse me. I'll be back soon.