Lilith Saintcrow

Three things I just wanted to note before my Friday Writing post:

* Pharyngula, on why faith is at odds with science and why this isn’t a bad thing. Why it is reasonable, and normal, and why science is better.

* Keely Kolmes, on whether therapists should Google their clients. Good stuff.

* And Cleolinda on Michael Jackson. I’ll just point at that, because she says everything I want to say.

And now, Friday writing! Onward!

Yeah, when you stumble to the front door to let the cats out (because, of course, they will DIE IF THEY DON’T GET OUT THIS INSTANT) and see the sunshine, hear the birds singing, and even the thought of a bowl of Cheerios is too much effort…

…then, my friend, you know you stayed up too late last night getting your heroine in trouble.

I used to be able to pull all-nighters and be fresh as a daisy afterward. Then I hit a long jag of nothing but all-nighters. (It’s called early parenthood.) And when I surfaced from that at 30 I found out I had lost that ability. My body says, “Stay up all night and expect me to work the next morning? HAHAHAHAHA! You’re joking, right?”

Of course, it could have something to do with me staying up to write fiction instead of getting into trouble myself. Perhaps my body would be happier if I was out dancing or something. I do miss dancing. However, I do not miss the boozed-up jerkwads or some DJ’s idea of “cool” music shattering my eardrums with feedback when all I want is a beat. Oh, or my ride getting drunk and leaving me stranded.

Guess I’ve just gotten old and boring. I’d rather be hitting 50K on the YA and getting my heroine shot. You know, doing actual work.

Guess this means I need to turn in my “cool mama” card. Where does one mail those things back to anyway? If I can’t find a mailing address I’m going to have to keep it and just impersonate a cool mama.

Yes, I’m in a silly mood today. Can you tell? Here, have my morning earworms: one is Cutting Crew’s “(I Just) Died In Your Arms Tonight” and the other? Murray Head’s “One Night In Bangkok.” The mashup inside my head is a thing of beauty and wonder, but I can’t share it because video and audio editing software is not jacked into my brain yet. Sorry. You’ll just have to imagine.

The Internet has been all over Roger Ebert’s deliciously cranky review of the new Transformers movie. His review actually makes me want to go see it MORE, because my complaint about Transformers 1 was “Less girlfriend, more FIGHTING ROBOTS!” I don’t want fricking plot in a Transformers movie, for Chrissake. I want ROBOTS. LOTS OF ROBOTS DUKING IT OUT. I want 99.9% PURE ROBOT BATTLE. Plot is for, you know, actual stories. Not for marketing machines built on a Hasbro line, for Chrissake. (Were Transformers Hasbro? I forget.)

Okay. All silliness aside, it’s time for me to make another lunge at finishing up this book. See you around, chickadees.

Since I finished proof pages last night and the third YA is burning a hole in my head (as in, MUST GET BOOK OUT OF BRAIN WRITE WRITE MORE WRITE NOW DAMMIT), you get three random things that make a blog post.

* Are Bookscan numbers inaccurate, or worse, just plain wrong? (Hat tip to Diana Peterfreund for the link.) On the one hand, lowball Bookscan numbers do provide a publisher with more leverage against author and agent demands for more money–natural and normal on both sides. But wrong by 100%? I don’t know if this is widespread or just with this one particular author. Industry peeps, what say you?

* I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: authors overwhelmingly have no control over cover copy or cover design. (In some cases this is a good thing.) Please, please, don’t blame us when the cover doesn’t match the book. We’re probably more mortified about differences between the cover and the content than you can ever imagine. We’re sorry about it, but that’s the way it is.

* I can tell I’m about to begin another creative burst. The symptoms are all there–sleeplessness, restlessness, weird reactions to emotional upheaval (my irrational relief at getting some furniture moved is a prime example) and an itching to get one project done so I can begin to work on another. The Sekrit Projekts are beckoning like mermaids. Part of it is avoidance–two-thirds of the way through a book is where I start having all sorts of Bright Shiny New Ideas, and I have to really buckle down so I don’t get distracted. That’s one thing I had to learn–the Shiny Idea when I’m trying to finish the Contracted Idea is a Bad Idea. A lot of writers get seduced by the shiny in the mid-novel slump and have difficulty finishing. There’s no cure for it that I can see other than discipline, which is why I call discipline the #1 quality a writer should cultivate. (Habit being the best of slaves and the worst of masters, and all.) It is a quality that can be learned, and is therefore within a writer’s control. When so much isn’t.

There. Three things, the timer’s rung, and I’m back to work. See you on the other side, chickadees.

I haven’t had toast with butter and jam for breakfast in years, so today I decided to give it a whirl again. It’s still just as good as I remember. The rain has stopped for a little while, the sky is bright behind its lens of clouds, and yesterday I finished the line edits and read-through for the second YA book.

As usual after a massive revisions push, my brain feels busted in a big way. (And the copyedits for Flesh Circus are due soon. Waaah!) So, today is for grocery shopping (big fun) reading the current issue of BITCH magazine (oh, my God, I am loving it; the “Bug Sex” article alone is insanely awesome,) and just generally laying on the floor and drooling while my gray matter recovers.

So, here’s some links, because I have no real content to give today other than moaning about my poor head. And that’s not interesting to anyone.

* Evgeny Morozov on why we don’t need to reinvent the book for the Web age. Ten points for proper use of the word “fungible,” and the paragraph that made my toes tingle and curl run thus:

This may also explain why sales of serious books haven’t plummeted in the age of free and ubiquitous content. With so many free resource materials available on the Web, it does seem strange that anyone would still want to pay 20 bucks for “a compilation of links” that most non-fiction books are (at least, according to O’Reilly). But the likely explanation here is quite simple: compiling links in meaningful and readable ways is exactly the kind of premium value that we are willing to pay for when we buy a book. It’s becoming obvious that in the age of information abundance the value of curation rises dramatically. As the number of available resources that writers and readers could consult rises, it’s actually quite normal that we would place more and more value on the process of synthesizing rather than simply aggregating information. From this perspective, if I want to read a book on a subject that is slightly more complex than the world of Twitter, I expect that authors would actually read all the available resources (rather than just a sampling of a few hundred 140 “best” Twitter status updates), take a principled stand, and actually try to compress the very boring 30,000 pages they read while researching the book to much more readable 300 pages – precisely “so that I don’t have to”.

I thought about this yesterday, too. Right next to the sensual experience of paper, this is why I think traditional books will not go out of style. They are an efficient and durable way of transferring information and context.

And as an added bonus they do not depend on an electric outlet. (Note that I don’t say ebooks are bad, I just personally prefer paper.) Ebook editions are all very well and a lot of people love them, but they do depend on that electric outlet, which we take for granted…

* Awwwww. This is so cute. They both look so young (cranky old Lili smiles fondly.) And I love how he says, “I would have felt bad, because I don’t want to mess anything up for anyone. But more important to me is I want her to know just how much I love her — I don’t care what kind of fool I have to make of myself.” And he’s a guitar-playing fireman, she’s a speech therapist, and they were childhood friends. All together now, again: AWWWWWWW!

* The Nation on torture. The Nixonian defense just plain makes me sick. Nuff said. (Though his last line doesn’t have quite the ringing I’d prefer.)

* And Jenna Black’s latest Deadline Dames post made me cry.

* Last but not least, Dr. Tatiana’s Sex Advice To All Creation. I want this DVD so bad. And the book doesn’t look half bad either. Gonna hafta find it used, though. Oh, the agony.

A quick Link Salad today. I should learn to give myself the proper amount of time between books so I’m not freaking out when I should be relaxing. Then again, the freak-out is apparently part of the whole stinking process. ANYWAY.

* Go and read Fictionista’s A Case For Self-Defense. And when you’re done, enter to win a copy of The Gift of Fear. If you don’t win it, head on over to Amazon. It’s real, real cheap for a book that can save your life. (My review of Gift of Fear is here.) I swear, I make all my friends read this. I sound like I’m in a crazy-ass cult when I start talking about it.

* My current crop of pictures is here.

* OH. MY. GOD. Strange Angels has been mentioned in USA Today. I’m not sure whether to faint or celebrate.

* And here’s Neil Gaiman’s assistant Lorraine on the Top Ten Things Never To Send Your Favorite Writer. Just…trust her, okay?

* And a funny little Guardian piece about the “top ten grimoires”. You’d think a professor would have heard of New Falcon or S. Jason Black’s work. Then again, it does have a picture of Buffy up at the top.

* Naked Capitalism. Does it get any better? The name alone is awesomeness, and the patient explanation of financial shenanigans just adds to it.

* And one more time–I’ve linked to Slacktivist’s dissection of the Left Behind books before. There, I just did it again. The most current post, about the combative misogyny in these wildly popular books, is thoughtful, thought-provoking, and all those high-quality things we’ve come to expect from Slacktivist.

* Last but not least, I now own a sweet, sweet copy of Beyond Heaving Bosoms, and Portland’s very own Smart Bitch Candy Tan is going to be at Beaverton Powell’s on April 15. (I will be heckling from the audience. I might even get her to sign a body part.)

So, there. Link salad. Mmmh, delicious. And spam-free!