Still on the road

Tired, overstimulated, happy. I have lots of news but none that I can share. Mostly because I’m too tired to type straight.

Has anyone read any of Somerset Maugham’s writings on writing? You should. I loves him. (More coherent thoughts on it when I get my brain back.)

Also what’s the consensus on Cormac McCarthy’s The Road? I read it on a plane. Started off hating it, warmed to it, got teary, but am now completely unsure what I think of it. I found it kind of slight oddly enough. But I may change my mind. Maybe I’m having hype allergy?

I do know what I thought of Sergey Lukyanenko’s Day Watch sequel to Night Watch. Loved it. More please! For the first time in my life I am tempted to write fan fiction. I mean what would the Sydney Day and Night watches be like? I’m seeing Simon Westaway as a world-weary medium ranked magician—but I’m not sure for which Watch . . .

Tis very strange reading so many not-YA books. They’re not half bad. I guess I should stop being rude about adult books.

Also saw Dreamgirls—yes on a plane—what an amazing film. Incredible sets, awesome adaptation of a muscial, unbelievably good acting, everything was absolutely perfect—except that the music sucked. SUCKED. Worst. Music. Ever. It caused me psychic pain having to listen to it. Aaargh. Is there some way to edit in good songs?

Have I mentioned that both Holly Black’s Ironside and Cassandra Clare’s City of Bones made the New York Times bestseller list? I love both those books. Isn’t it wonderful? And if you haven’t read them you really really really should.

So Pistons-Spurs final?

Oh, and I am deeply in love with Paris. Yet another city I want to live in. Plus now I must learn French!

Yes, we are in Paris

But I want to update you on the Bermudez Triangle liberation efforts. As I mentioned it was banned. Maureen Johnson, its wonderful author, has just posted about the campaign to get it put back on the library shelves with some truly excellent suggestions of what we can do to help.

And John Green has posted his letter protesting the banning. If you felt like doing the same thing, the email addresses are over here.

One of the librarians from Bartlesville’s public library, Beth Degeer, has also written a wonderful letter to the local newspaper.

I must dash—I’m about to have lunch with Scott and one of our wonderful French publishers.

My quick verdict on Paris thus far: Gorgeous! Yummy! Mmmmmm!

Paris, noon, 2 May 2007

Spreadsheets revisited

Off to Paris today. I’m not sure what my intramanet access will be like while there, plus I’ll be busy, so I figured I’d best leave you with a slightly meaty post given as I’m not sure when I’ll be posting again.

For your delectation some thoughts on the efficacy of spreadsheets for novel writing:

A while back I posted a tongue-in-cheek guide on how to write a novel in which I suggested using a spreadsheet. I’m still getting letters from folks telling me what a revelation that was, how it’s transformed the way they write, solved all their plotting problems, and made their teeth whiter.

And I’m still coming across comments from those who are appalled and outraged by the very idea. A spreadsheet! For creative work! The utter utter horror! Spreadsheets are for accountants! The muse is allergic to spreadsheets. What kind of philistine is this Justine Larbalestier? (If that is her real name.)

I don’t get the outrage.

A novel is a large document containing a whole world with a population that can range from one (boring navel-gazing novel about a man trapped inside a unicycle) to billions or more (space opera where the Empress of the universe destroys a whole planet and the reader follows the last day of each inhabitant of said planet). Keeping track of all of that is tricky. The longer or more complicated the novel the harder it is to keep all of it in your head.

I’m sure some writers can do it. Some writers can also write entires novels in their head and produce but one perfect draft.

But pretty much every writer I know has some method of tracking their novel. It might be a set of notes, a wall chart, a spreadsheet, a ouija board, an outline they annotate as they go, index cards, pigeon entrails, their ghostwriter, whatever. They have some kind of a thing that is not their novel that tells them stuff they need to know about their novel.

My first novel is an epic, 145 thousand words long,1 spanning many years, with a cast of gazillions, and multiple point-of-view characters. I wrote the first draft using another word document to note down who was related to who, what the countries were, the different language groups, the seasons, things I needed to change, and etc. By the time I finished the first draft, my notes about the novel was almost longer than the actual novel. I needed another document to keep track of it. And then I needed another one to keep track of the one keeping track of the notes keeping track of the novel. Spot the problem?

My boyfriend of the time (thank you, Geoff!) suggested I use Microsoft Project. I fell in love. It was the first (and only time) I’ve been smitten by any of Microsoft’s software.2 Project was exactly what I needed: I could chart each character in relationship to the other characters over a period of days, months, years, whatever I needed. At a glance, I could see characters who disappeared with no explanation, who remained pregnant for two years, babies who stayed at the baby stage even though five years had passed since their birth.

It made rewriting much easier.

My second novel was much more straightforward, shorter, and told from only one point of view. A very short file was all I needed to keep track. And to be honest I didn’t use it much, which might be why it’s so very bad, and will never ever see the light of day.

My third novel was Magic or Madness, which while not as complicated as my first, had its own challenges, such as being set in Sydney and New York City. Towards the end of the first draft, Scott introduced me to his spreadsheet method, which made it much much much easier to track what time it was in the two different locations as well as the shifts in points-of-view.

I used the same spreadsheet for all three books of the trilogy. It made me happy.

For the Great Australian Mangosteen Monkey Knife-Fighting Elvis Cricket Fairy Young Adult book I also used a spreadsheet, but it served mostly procrastinatory purposes. The book is told from one point of view and is pretty much beginning, middle, end. It woulda been just as easy to write it without one.

So there you have it: spreadsheets neither write your novel for you, nor do they stab the grand muse of writerising through the heart. They’re just this sometimes-for-some-people useful thing, ya know?

And now I believe I have a plane to catch.

  1. For contrast all the Magic or Madness books are around 65 thousand words. []
  2. And, of course, Microsoft instantly stopped producing a Mac version. So I never got to use it again, which is a shame because it is the most excellent instrument of procrastination novel tracking I have ever used. []

Paris

So I just realised that I’m going to be in Paris on Monday. Tomorrow! Or at least on my way there.

Paris!

I’ve never been there before. I know about the Eiffel Tower and Versailles and all that stuff, but those of you who’ve been to Paris—what would you recommend that’s not in all the tourist guides? And which of the famous touristy stuff is really really really worth a looksee?

We may not have a lot of time cause of the crazy schedule, but, c’mon, it’s Paris! One of the most famous cities in the world. We have to sneak out and do some cool stuff.

But what cool stuff?

What are your fave Paris restaurants, cafes, shops, whatevers? I needs to know.

Also what French phrases am I going to need other than “Je nais parle pas Francais”? (And, no, I have no idea how that’s meant to be spelled. Yes, my google is broken.)

Share all your Paris knowledge, people!

Thank you!

Video blogging

I have a confession to make: I was mean to John Green.

I was scathing about his whole Brotherhood video blogging thing. This was mostly because I am a fan of his ye olde written blog. I missed it. I resented that he’d stopped proper posting to make stupid videos. In my defence at the time I was staying somewhere with less than fabbie bandwidth so even if I’d wanted to watch his videos, I couldn’t.

But the fact remains that I didn’t want to watch them. I even intimated to John as how his video blog was not nearly as interesting as his written blog when I had not watched a single one. How mean was that?

I also think part of my reaction was on account of the idea of video blogging fills my heart with horror. Me, I don’t even like having my photo taken. But that’s become a bit of an unavoidable occupational hazard. (Worse luck.) The thought of having to be videoed as well? Gah! Clearly John and his brother are made of sterner stuff than me.

At the urging of a certain person, I finally got past all my resistance and took a wee squizz at the Brotherhood thing. I was only going to look at one, but somehow—wham!—my whole afternoon disappeared.

So, um, John, I apologise. Unreservedly. You and your brother Hank are—along with Cecil and Maureen1—the most entertaining video bloggers I’ve seen. And the Brotherhood ones are getting better and better as you guys learn the medium and get kickarse at the whole editing thing.

Colour me, dead impressed and the latest convert to the Brotherhood bandwagon.

Mea culpa.

I take back every mean thing I ever said about you, John. I was wrong.

So what do you lot think of video blogging? Who are your favourites?

PS Sorry I’ve not been responding to as many comments as I’d like and that I’m so far behind with email. It’s crazy busy around here right now and I don’t see it easing up till June. Sigh.

  1. If only Maureen and Cecil would do the video thing even half as frequently as John and Hank! What heaven it would be! Of course, I’d never have time to write another word . . . []

Another book banned (updated)

Maureen Johnson‘s excellent and extremely clean (no sex or violence) book, The Bermudez Triangle has just been banned in a school in Bartlesville, Oklahoma because it is about (among many other things) two girls who fall in love.

A parent read it, hated it and complained, demanding it be removed from the shelves and suggested the bible as a replacement. I’m very fond of the bible myself, but it has way more sex and violence than Maureen’s book. There’s incest in the bible, people!

There’s also excellent bits like this:

“There is no longer male nor female, bond nor free, Jew nor Gentile, for we are all equal in Jesus Christ.”

—Galatians 3:28

I believe that includes homosexuals as well as heterosexuals.

If anyone who reads this is from Bartlesville, Oklahoma and cares about first amendment rights, you are in a position to be able to complain to the school and to the local newspapers. I really hope you will. Bermudez Triangle is a lovely warm book about the importance of friendship.

For the rest of us, I think now would be a really good time to invest in a copy of Maureen’s book. She’s a wonderful writer and it’s a wonderful book.

Update: Maryrose Wood eloquently explains what the first amendment means when a book is banned in the US of A.

Book evangelist (updated)

Diana Peterfreund has just written a smart piece about authors reviewing. In it she quotes me claiming to be a “book evangelist”. I’ve decided to own it big time over here.

My name is Justine Larbalestier and I’m a book evangelist.

I call myself that because it’s a more accurate term than “critic” or “reviewer”. I rarely go into detail about books I love. I don’t analyse, or critique, I don’t even give plot summaries, I just say, “I love this book! Read it!” If I hate a book I rant about it with friends, I don’t write about it here.

Why?

Lots of reasons. Firstly, writing a serious critical analysis of a book is very hard work. I don’t have the time or the inclination to work that hard on anything but my fiction.

Ranting about books I hate can be a lot of fun, but I don’t want to hurt the feelings of people I’m very likely to run into in social settings. Hell, I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. I know how much work goes into a novel. Even ones I think are terrible. It’s horrible to have your weeks, months, or years of hard work dismissed by some jerk who read it while they had digestive issues from too much vindaloo the night before.

I have disliked many books because I was in a bad mood about something else when I read them (such as digestive issues from vindaloo). On the few occasions I’ve given them another go, I’ve discover that truly it wasn’t them, it was me. I’d rather not have this blog drowning under the weight of all my retractions.

Some hideously bad books are loved by readers and change their lives in positive ways. Some of the Young Adult books I’ve hated most in the last ten years have had a huge effect on many young readers. Not the least of which is turning them into passionate readers, who in some cases have gone on to discover my books. It would be churlish to publicly eviscerate books like that.

When I hate a book I kind of don’t care whether other people read it or not,1 but when I love a book I want everyone in the whole world to go out and read it and discover its amazingness.

On that note here are the YA books I’ve read and loved recently that I don’t think are getting enough attention, or selling as well as they should. You all must must must read them:

  • Coe Booth Tyrell (I know it’s up for the LA Times book prize but I keep meeting people who haven’t read it and that is just wrong.)
  • Audrey Couloumbis’ The Misadventures of Maude March
  • Kenjiro Haitani’s A Rabbit’s Eyes
  • Simmone Howell’s Notes from the Teenage Underground
  • Maureen Johnson’s Devilish
  • Elizabeth Knox’s Dreamhunter (And it’s sequel, Dreamquake is now out so you don’t have to suffer from massive cliffhangeritis.)
  • Margo Lanagan White Time
  • E. Lockhart’s Dramarama (As it hasn’t officially pub’d yet it’s a bit premature to say it’s flying under the radar. Whatever. I love it.)
  • Jaclyn Moriarty’s Becoming Bindy Mackenzie (US title is The Murder of Bindy Mackenzie.)

Updated to add

  • Megan Whalen Turner’s Attolia trilogy of The Thief, Queen of Attolia and King of Attolia. Can’t believe I forgot it!

Feel free to add your own suggestions in the comments. Only relatively obscure books, please. No New York Times or any other kinds of bestsellers.

  1. Though it is fun to have a good old bitch session about a mutually hated book. []

Flying again

I get back on an airplane on Monday. It’ll be barely a week since I was last on one. Gah! No matter what airline I’m on, no matter whether I’ve been upgraded or not, whether it’s short-haul or long-haul, very little fun is had.

Today I had an epiphany: I must stop expecting air travel to go smoothly. I must lower my expectations. In the last few years of constant travel the vast majority of my flights have been awful. So it is reasonable to expect that will continue.

From now on I will expect the check-in person not to be able to find our reservations, and the flight to be delayed or cancelled, our luggage to not get on the same plane as us, and that our reserved seats next to each other will become middle seats far far far apart where I will be seated between two extremely large men who have no concept of armrest sharing, smell bad and listen to really loud music, and are deeply resentful when I ask them to move so I can get up. My seat will be broken.

Scott will not get his vegetarian meal and will be reduced to stale bread rolls or starvation. I will get my meal but it will be so foul I’ll be eating the stale bread rolls with him. I will have seen all the films before. Or they’ll be films I really want to see but every headset is broken and the DVD/video tape will conk out halfway through. The babies will constantly cry and/or projectile vomit. The turbulence will never end. (A little bit can be fun, but a fourteen-hour flight where it’s so constant you can’t get up to pee? Much less fun.)

If some of that is averted I’ll be laughing. We’re sitting together? Score! Seat actually reclines? Bonus! Flight leaves within an hour of stated departure time? I’m in heaven!

It would be so wonderful never to have to fly again. If only transmat beams were real. Stupid lying science fiction. Stupid airports and airplanes. I spit on them all!

Is there anyone out there who still enjoys flying?

Genetic gifts

I seem to have rolled out of the ranty side of the bed every morning this week. First I was peeing on the eighties and now I am cranky on account of a particularly stupid thing that was said to me about basketball.

Viz, “I can’t stand basketball. It’s just a bunch overpaid genetic freaks running around with a ball. Who cares?”

As I had just been talking about the joys of my season tickets to the New York Liberty, I clearly care, and you, Mr Shorty Bald man, were being very rude. I poke my tongue out at you!

But that’s not what’s raised my ire, nope, it’s the phrase “genetic freaks”.

So, what are you supposed to do if you’re naturally good at a sport? If you’re built with extra long legs and arms, super-quick reflexes, or extra-big capacity lungs, and happen to enjoy working hard at the particular sport your genetic advantages suit you for? Huh? Work in a circus? Become an accountant? Cut your legs off so you don’t freak out people who are shorter than you?

Show me a professional sport that doesn’t have freakishly talented people playing in it. That’s what pro sports are about: talent (genetic freaks) and hard work. Cause you can be the tallest person in the world but if you can’t run up and down that court, or handle a ball, or get your shots to sink, then you are not going to be playing pro ball. End of story.

Besides show me exceptional people in any field who aren’t in some way genetically gifted. Doesn’t being super smart also mean you won the genetic lottery? Why don’t the top physicists and mathematicians and philosophers piss you off? Aren’t they genetic freaks too for being massively smarter than you the way basketballers are massively taller than you?

And anyway there are pro basketballers who are shorter than you, like Nate Robinson, Mugsy Bogues, Debbie Black and Becky Hammon. (Though maybe Becky’s a little taller than you. My bad.)

Okay, I feel much better now. Why couldn’t I think of any of these responses at the time? Stupid slow brain.

Yours rantily,

Justine

Wondering about bookshops

When did bookshops start sorting their books by category? Does anyone know? Or have any theories? Did they model themselves on libraries?

All my life they’ve been sorted that way. Some of the categories (manga) are newer than others (literature) but I don’t remember ever seeing a book shop without sections. Does anyone remember a time when they weren’t organised that way?

And when were the very first bookshops? I know libraries have been around since forever but bookshops haven’t.

I’m thinking of Jane Austen and not remembering a single bookshop and yet her characters have books. Were they from libraries? Or did they own them? And if they did where did they buy them? At a general store?

Stop it already

The next Young Adult book I read where all the pop culture refs are from the 1980s when it’s supposed to be set now, well, that book I set on fire.1

I’ve had it with these lazy authors. You wanna write about your teenage years? Then bloody set it then! You’re allowed. There’s no law that says it has to be set in the here and now.

I can buy one or two characters who are obsessed with the eighties (though I have no idea why they would be but, hey, I hear some people are obsessed with cars, and Englishmen, and chewing gum wrappers—people are weird) but I cannot buy an entire novel set in the 2000s where all popular culture came to a grinding halt in 1990. A world without reality TV, manga,2 Micheal Hussey, Antony & the Johnsons, Beyonce, Brokeback Mountain, Harry Potter or Meg Cabot. C’mon already!

Your development may have arrested back then but the world has moved on. Try to reflect that in your novels set NOW. It’s not too much to ask, is it?

Grrr. Bloody buggery eighties. They sucked. I was there. I know.

Is there anything you keep seeing over and over in a particular genre that drives you insane? Rant away! (Though try not to name specific writers. You know how I feel about making writers cry.)

  1. Carbon emissions be damned. (I don’t really mean that. Honest.) []
  2. I know manga existed and was popular in the eighties but not the way it is now. []

Dramarama

On the plane back to NYC from Dallas I read E. Lockhart’s latest book, Dramarama. Once I started I couldn’t stop. All Scott got out of me for the next three hours were “Yes, dears”, “uh huhs”, and “laters”. I’m a big E. Lockhart fan. I’ve enjoyed every books she’s written but Dramarama is by far her best. And that’s saying a lot.
Best book ever!
It’s about kids who are obsessed with becoming actors/dancers/singers. They’ve all been bitten with the performing bug so hard that it has eaten their brains. They meet at a performing summer camp which is the kind of intense hothouse that brings out the good, the bad and the ugly. There are spats, lots of falling in and out of love and friendship, tears, and heaps of really hard work as they put on multiple shows and learn how to be theatre professionals (or not, as the case may be).

I’ve seen some reviews of this book worry that kids who aren’t into musical theatre won’t find anything for them in Dramarama. I’m not into musical theatre—or theatre for that matter—I have zero interest in Broadway and I adored it.

The book’s protag, Sadye Paulson, is my favourite kind: She doesn’t know herself that well. Sometimes it seems like she doesn’t know herself at all or have any clue how she affects folks around her. She makes mistakes, behaves in ways that make you cringe, but manages to learn from it, and not in a Hallmark ewkie way. I can’t remember the last time I loved a protag this much while also wanting to shake her. Shake her very very hard.

What I love most about E. Lockhart’s work—and there’s a lot to love—is the importance of friendship. It’s always at the core of her books even the ones that seem to be about romance. I’ve said before that friendships are as important as romance. And that friendship has to be at the core of a romantic relationship if it’s going to last longer than ten seconds. Lockhart shows it.

Did I mention that Dramarama is also very funny? Cause it is. Complete with laugh-out-loud sections and everything.

Excuse me while I go read it again. Seriously it’s that good.

Oh. My. Elvis.

I just found out that Magic Lessons is on the shortlist for a Locus Award. Check out who else is on the list:

    Best Young Adult Book

    Spirits That Walk in Shadow by Nina Kiriki Hoffman
    Magic Lessons by Justine Larbalestier
    Voices by Ursula K. Le Guin
    The Keys to the Kingdom: Sir Thursday by Garth Nix
    Wintersmith by Terry Pratchett

Talk about stellar! Those are some of the best writers in the YA universe! I’m on a shortlist with Ursula Le Guin! I think I’m going to faint.

There are other wonderful books up for Locus awards, including Samuel R. Delany’s About Writing and Julie Phillips’ Tiptree biography for best non-fiction, Ellen Kushner’s Privilege of the Sword for best fantasy, Ellen Klages’ Green Glass Sea and Naomi Novik’s Temeraire for best first novel. Woo hoo!! Congratulations to them all! And if you haven’t already read these then you really really ought to!

Back in NYC (briefly)

The last ten days were bloody AWESOME. I don’t have words. I met so many wonderful librarians, writers, students, teachers, booksellers, readers, and other peoples. All the appearances went splendidly. Texas rocks! I loves it! More details soon.

I plan to blog ever day for the next ten because after that we bugger off to Paris, Singapore and then three weeks back home in Australia and blogging opportunities are probably going to be thin on the ground. I read some wonderful books that I want to tell you about. I also have some writing theories I want to share. Not to mention all the appearances I’m doing this week.

There’s been a micro kerfuffle while I was away because some commenters have strayed far off topic in some of the comment threads. While this doesn’t bother me in the slightest, it led to some folks being deluged with comment notifications. I’ve now put up an open post for those who want to chat about whatever. Enjoy! If folks enjoy it, I’ll put up more open posts in the future.

While I was in Texas, my good friend Cassandra Clare hit The New York Times bestseller list with her wonderful and completely unputdownable novel, City of Bones—it’s right next to Scott’s Specials! She’s now been on the list for two weeks! Woo hoo!!!! Go Cassie! Go Cassie! Go Cassie!

Me, I’m going to sleep in my very own bed. Joy!

Chat at will

This comment thread is your comment thread. Chat amongst yourselves about whatever you want. Potato, Ally, Calliope, whoever. You’re all welcome! Natter away!

Last two Texas appearances + Spoiler FAQ

Very flaky internet access—the wifi keeps dropping to one bar so I’m keeping this short. Also I don’t seem to be able to reply to emails, but I’ll be back in NYC by Saturday and will catch up then. If it’s urgent call me on the mobile.

We’re doing two more Texas appearances. Details here. Come say hi.

Also I’m getting a lot of people asking me the same questions about the ending of the trilogy so I’ve started a SPOILER FAQ over here [scroll down]. If you have questions about the trilogy that aren’t already answered you can ask them on the comments thread over there and I will respond. But please don’t ask spoiler questions in the comments for this post. Lots of this blog’s readers have not read Magic’s Child yet.

Hope no one’s too damp in NYC.

Okay, now I attempt to post this . . .

Yay! Aargh! Woohoo! Eep!

I have like a gazillion billion trakazillion emails in my inbox. This is the first chance I’ve had to go online in almost three days. It’s been crazy busy and exhilarating and fabulous and every big positive happy adjective you can think of.

San Antonio is wondrous. The Texas Library Association conference has been so extraordinarily wonderful I’m left without words. I’ve met so many amazing, fun, smart cool people I think my brain has exploded. Thank you everyone! Yay! Joy! Mangosteens! This trip has also been very educational: I know now how boots are made and have a much better idea of what distributors do.

Scott and mine’s presentation in front of what seemed like thousands of librarians, including Scott’s high school librarian, Darlene, was exhilarating. I’ve never had so much fun doing an appearance. Basically we just gasbagged about how we met, our books, writing, travelling, living in two countries, and answered lots of cool questions from the wonderful audience.

Then we signed what felt like a million books. I think I’m still floating.

To quickly answer two of your questions:

The beasts that shall not be named are evil. That is all you need to know. What do they need that horn for anyway?

Maureen is also evil and you should not do what she tells you to do.

Friday the thirteenth is excellent. Zombies love it. But yesterday’s was the best ever!

I will be brief

We are in San Antonio. The river walk is fun. We have tickets to the San Antonio v Sacramento game tonight. I went to Little’s Boots to get fitted for custom-made boots. It was awesome. The Littles are good people. David Little even drove us back to our hotel. I will get my boots in six months. I cannot wait.

The hotel is lovely. We have a balcony. There is free wifi in the lobby but not in our room. I have yet to hang out with any librarians or writers.

In other news it is warm. I do not need a coat or a scarf or gloves. I love San Antonio.

How’re y’all doing?

Ten days in Texas

Today we leave for San Antonio where we’ll be attending the Texas Library Association annual conference. I’m dead excited. We went to the ALA conference last year and it was fabulous. I met so many cool librarians and student librarians and writers and publishing people I thought my head would explode. Talk about over-stimulation! I look forward to more of it.

Unfortunately, we won’t be doing any public signings in San Antonio. So if you’re not signed up for TLA we won’t get to meet you. Sorry!

Our one public appearance of the trip will be in Austin:

Monday, 16 April 2007, 7PM
Justine Larbalestier & Scott Westerfeld
Book People
603 N. Lamar (at Sixth)
Austin, Texas

This Texas trip is also a chance for us to catch up with Scott’s family—especially his wonderful dad, who we haven’t seen in ages—which is why we’re doing so few appearances. It was too hard to do signings and family visiting. Maybe next time.

If you’re in Austin come see us at Book People I hear it’s one of the best book shops around.

And so you don’t miss me too much while I’m gone, Jennifer Laughran of Books Inc and Not Your Mother’s Book Club fame kindly interviewed me. She asked me some of the smartest questions I’ve ever been asked. Yay Jennifer!

What happens to Reason

Courtesy of Marrije, I now know what happens to Reason after the Magic or Madness trilogy:

She’s now working advertising coffee in the Netherlands!

See the eerie resemblance?

It’s a huge relief to me to know that at least one of my characters is not going to starve just because I’ve stopped writing about them. Phew!

Happy, happy

Australia just thrashed England in their Super Eight match. They barely broke a sweat doing it. Ha ha!

I discovered this lovely review of the Magic or Madness trilogy by a future librarian. It’s pretty spoiler free if you want a squizz. I really liked this bit:

The magical abilities are also not what one expects—Reason has an amazing aptitude for math and patterns. Her friend Tom can create magical clothing, and Jay-Tee’s magic is in movement—like running and dancing. (None of this, ooh-look-at-me-I can-fly-or-read-minds . . . etc.)

I did that on purpose! And someone noticed! Woo hoo!

Also Scott just read me the almost last bit of Extras and it is good! So. Very. Good.

And on Tuesday we fly to San Antonio where it is much much warmer than NYC and there are many cool librarians and young adult writers for us to hang with. Happiness!

Vicious koalas, leeches and deadlines

Things are tense around here. Scott has not very long to finish Extras, the extra book that sort of has something to do with the Uglies trilogy. The ninth of April is his final cannot-be-moved-no-matter-what deadline. Other deadlines have come and gone, but this one is for real.

My job at the moment is to keep other stuff from getting in the way of his writing. You know like evil laundry, vile dishes and wicked wicked postage. Not to mention the scourge of phone calls, email, deliveries and visitors.

Leeches!I have created a moat of acid, and anyone who mangages to get past it to press the buzzer now gets a nasty little electric shock. Leeches await those hardy souls who make it all the way to our doorstep. I had them specially imported from The African Queen and they are very large indeed.

It’s also very bloody cold outside with occasional snow which should further cull the numbers of potential deadline interferers. But if all else fails and they manage to get in, I have my rabid pet koala to sic on them. She is not only diseased, but has a naturally mean disposition.1

I also supply him with the appropriate beverages, writing companions, massage his weary typing fingers and try not to time my coughs ill.

It’s not pretty but someone has to do it. Besides he did the same during my gruelling many-deadlines-missed finishing of Magic’s Child.

So wish us both luck surviving this deadline and if neither of us blog much in the next few days you’ll know why.

Ooops, must dash. The author requires a hot towel.

NOTE: did you notice that I cunningly wrote this post without caps even though it’s longish? That way the old man can’t read it. Mwahahahahah!!!!

  1. Like most koalas, actually. Even the non-diseased ones smell bad and scratch. That’s the only reason we occasionally let tourists hold them. []

Doobalackie

Apparently “doobalackie” is not a universal word for “thingamybob”—you know, that thing for which you do not have a name, that “doohickie”. I had no idea it was just us Australians who reach for doobalackies.

Is it just us? Any South Africans or New Zealanders or Jamaicans or English or Welsh or Irish or Scottish people care to weigh in? What do you call the thingie for which you do not at that moment have a name?

I learned the non-Americanness of doobalackie from the the livejournal devoted to Megan Whalen Turner’s fabulous Attolia trilogy which recently discussed my worship of said trilogy1 and wound up discussing a bunch of different Aussieisms.

The whole thing got me curious so I looked up “dooberlackie” in the Macquarie Dictionary and discovered it’s supposed to be spelled “dooverlackie” or “doovahlackie”. To be honest I’ve never seen it written down before, only heard it. That aside, spelling is not my strong point. Dunno if I’m gunna budge from dooberlackie, but. That’s how it sounds in me head. You should never mess with your own head.

It’s amazing how many words I thought were universal turn out to be Aussiesm or, at least, not much known in the US. Usians don’t do the whole brekkie, pressie, chrissie, journo, muso thing. They have no mates called Dazza or Shazza. They don’t squiz at stuff or chuck a right. They’re never lizard flat-out. They don’t know what bitumen is. And the way they pronounce “condom” is deeply strange.

How many of you English speakers have discovered that some of the words and expression you thought were global English turn out to be just from your part of the world? What words were they? Share!

In other news: it stopped snowing but it’s still too bloody cold. Also I am reading the second Buddha and I am in heaven. I heart Osamu Tezuka. Thanks, Anne!

Oh, crap, now it’s snowing again. Aaargh!!!

  1. Are there still any of you who haven’t read Megan Whalen Turner’s Attolia trilogy (The Thief, Queen of Attolia and King of Attolia)? If not, why not? On your bikes! []

It’s snowing

What is wrong with this benighted country? It’s snowing! It’s April. Spring in this poxy hemisphere. It’s warmer back home in Sydney where it’s Autumn. I hates it! Snow!!! Aaaargghh!!!!!!

In other news John Green is silly with his friends over here. I knew they didn’t get any actual writing done when they got together. Now there’s proof.

I’m interviewed by E. Lockhart and reveal that I cannot write song lyrics.

And, um, it’s still snowing. I’m going back to bed. Wake me when the snow’s gone.

Butterflies are ubiquitious (updated)

Best book ever!Oh noes! My evil friend Shana has pointed out that butterflies are all over book covers right now. My wee Magic’s Child is just part of a trend. It’s not unique and lovely and its own sweet self! (I mean aside from the other books in the trilogy. I’m down with it looking like Magic or Madness and Magic Lesson.)

Still as book cover trends go, I’d much rather have butterflies than the dismembered women and girls that have been on the front of so many books for the past few years. You know the ones I mean? Where only torsos or feet and legs are visible. Scary headless women! Shapely legs and feet girls!

I find them all deeply disturbing. Especially as they’re frequently on the covers of some of my favourite books. Like Maureen Johnson’s wonderful Thirteen Little Blue Envelopes and the new anthology, 21 Proms which is one of my fave recent anthos with stories from some of my fave writers like Libba Bray and, well, there are too many of them to name.

Best anthology ever!I mean look at Ms Thirteen Little Blue Envelopes above. I bet she misses her head. I miss her head!

And those Prom girls? How are they going to dance with the top halves of their bodies missing? Plus wouldn’t there be blood spurting everywhere? Isn’t that a bit too Carrie? Most of the stories are funny not bloody.

I’m not saying there aren’t lovely dismembered women covers. The 21 Proms isn’t too bad at all. I’m just so very sick of them! Think of something else already. (But not butterflies. Forget about butterflies.)

What cover trends are you most annoyed by? A while back I thought that if I saw another period painting cover I’d start throwing things. They were all so obviously an attempt to suggest that the book you have in your hands is a serious and deeply worthy book, one what will win awards. How could it not with a grand master certifiably genius painting on the front?

So how about youse lot? Are there any trends in book cover designs that drive you spare?

Update: Anne Ishii of Vertical Books says that right now it’s all about the eggs.

Eggs!

Giveaways

Right now there are not one but two competitions to win a copy of Magic’s Child.

Go to Diana Peterfreund’s blog and make a comment and you’re in the running. She promises that she will ship the book anywhere in the world. I signed it and all! Or you can to the Teenreadstoo site to win a copy. The intermanets are positively dripping with free copies of Magic’s Child!

The Tall One

John Hinde was one of my favourite film critics of all time. He was a wonderfully warm and funny man. He could give charmingly negative reviews to sucky films without a hint of rancour, reviews that made you want to see the crappy film just to see what he was talking about. I always wanted to meet him. When he died I cried.

Now he’s made me cry again by setting up an extraordinary literary prize in his wife’s memory. It’s the “Barbara Jefferis Award for the best Australian novel that empowers the status of females or depicts them in a positive light.” The award goes to an Australian writer, but isn’t restricted by setting or genre, only by the requirement that they postively depict women. (Were Patrick White still alive NO WAY would he win one of these babies.1) So if you’re an Aussie and you write a book set in Uzbekistan about a zombie unicorn apocalypse you’re still in with a shot. That’s in keeping with both the wide variety of films John Hinde loved and with the tremendous range of Barbara Jefferis’ novels.

Barbara Jefferis was brilliant. I read and adored her novel The Tall One when I was eleven or twelve. The book had a huge impact on me.

See, when I was young I was very tall. Much taller than anyone else my age. When I stopped growing at twelve I was 172.5cm (5ft8in). I got teased about it a lot. My aged Old World relatives offered to pay for operations to stop me growing so I’d still have a chance of getting a husband. No, I’m not making that up. My parents were laughing too hard to be horrified. “What are they going to do cut off your knees?”

Despite everything my parents said about the fabulousness of being tall and of being a girl, I was taking in the messages from my insane relatives and the kids at school. I slumped my shoulders and desperately wished to be a boy. Reading The Tall One helped clean that crap out of my mind. It’s about this 182cm (6ft) girl in medieval times in, I think, England (it’s a while since I read it so I’m hazy on the exact setting). Here was someone like me, or, at least, how I’d like to be: Tall and strong, standing up to people putting her down, owning her power, standing straight. And wry and funny too.

I was smitten and started being proud of my height. (After which I promptly stopped growing and ceased to be tall. Whatcha going to do?)

This award is a wonderful legacy from two exceptional and fascinating Australians, John Hinde and Barbara Jefferis. I hope it honours a series of wonderful novels and, even more, I hope it will do something towards bringing Jefferis’ work back into print. I’d love to see The Tall One readily available again.

  1. I am suppressing the urge to list all the prominent living Australian novelists who are even less chance than Mr White. I sit on my fingers. I hold my breath. Must. Not. Be. Bad. []

More Skiting

Things are going well for me back home and I am happy.

Today is the official pub date of Magic’s Child in Australia and New Zealand. First person to send me photographic evidence gets a signed copy. Why should the North Americans get all the prizes?

Yay Magic’s Child! What now exists on two continents!

If that weren’t enough I just found out I’m up for not one, but two Ditmars for Daughers of Earth. Wow.

    Professional Achievement

  • Angelia Challis for establishing Brimstone Press as a mass market publisher
  • Cat's Daughter's cover

  • Bill Congreve for Mirrordanse Press and 2 issues of the Australian Year’s Best Science Fiction and Fantasy
  • Russell B Farr for Ticonderoga Publications
  • Gary Kemble for work on ABC’s Articulate and promoting the genre through radio and other mediums
  • Alisa Krasnostein for providing new paying markets for readers and writers of both fiction and non-fiction, art as well as forums for reviews and interviews within the speculative fiction genre, enhancing the profile of Australian speculative fiction
  • Justine Larbalestier, for editing Daughters of Earth: Feminist Science Fiction in the Twentieth Century

I’m really honoured to be part of that list. What fabulous achievements! But, um, spot the odd one out: You know, the nominee who put one measly book together (and whinged about it a lot) and did bugger all to enhance the profile of Australia. *Cough* *Cough*.

And then I’m also up for

    The William Atheling Jr Award for Criticism or Review

  • Miranda Siemienowicz for her review of Paraspheres appearing in Horrorscope
  • Justine Larbalestier for Daughters of Earth: Feminist Science Fiction in the Twentieth Century
  • Robert Hood for “Man and Super-Monster: A History of Daikaiju Eiga and its Metaphorical Undercurrents” Borderlands #7
  • Grant Watson for “Bad Film Diaries – Sink or Swim: The Truth Behind Waterworld” Borderlands #8
  • Kathryn Linge for her review Through Soft Air ASif

William Atheling was the penname for James Blish’s critical writing. This is the second time I’ve been up for this award. Yay! It’s a real honour and not just because Blish was a hell of a critical writer. It’s wonderful to be recognised by the Australian science fiction community. Thank you!

There are lots of fabulous nominees in all categories this year, but selfishly the one I’m most excited about is Cat Spark’s nomination for best artwork for her unbelievably fantastic cover for Daughters of Earth. I’ve had a lot of wonderful covers for my books, but this is my favourite. Thank you, Cat! I really really really hope you win!

Quick Note

A bunch of youse have been asking why I’m suddenly using capital letters for some of my posts. Blame, Scott.1 He claims that he can’t cope with no caps on long posts. He whinged and pouted and generally carried on until he prevailed.

So there you have it: For longer posts I’m bringing back the caps, unless, of course, I don’t actually want any of the crumblies to read that particular post . . .

  1. Oh, okay, and some other aged friends who also whinged mighty loud []

Fourth Anniversary

Today is the fourth anniversary of my becoming a full-time freelance writer. That’s right, on 1 April 2003 I stopped getting a regular salary and set about trying to earn dosh with the words I write. What more appropriate day than April Fool’s day?

It was Scott who convinced me to do it.

For the previous eighteen months my regular salary as a post-doctoral fellow at the University of Sydney had been the bulk of our income, but Scott’s earnings as a freelancer were on the rise. It would be more than enough, he asserted, to support both of us while I found my legs as a writer. There were several academic jobs I could have applied for, but Scott convinced me not to. It wasn’t hard, while I preferred being an academic to any other job I’d had, I liked writing way more. “It’s the only thing you’ve ever wanted to do,” he told me over and over again. “Now’s the time to do it.”

I thought he was mad.

I was right.

The next three years and a half years were filled with financial anxiety: loans were taken out, credit cards were juggled, and tonnes of panic was panicked. Two freelancers living together is not for the faint of heart. It’s not even a good idea for nerves of steel, lion-hearted types.

I received my first freelance money—the advance on signing for the Magic or Madness trilogy—in December of 2003, which was eight months after I’d gone freelance. It was my first professional sale. The offer came in September so by publishing standards I was paid very quickly. But it was an awfully long time to be bringing in no money. In the meantime Scott signed up for two separate three-book deals (the Uglies trilogy and the three Razorbill books—So Yesterday, Peeps, and The Last Days) to keep us from going under. Problem was those books were on top of the Midnighters trilogy he’d already sold.

Suddenly he was writing three books a year and experiencing the joys of shingles. All because I’d gone freelance prematurely.

Do I regret it? (The real question is: Does Scott regret it?)

No. I’m proud of what I’ve achieved. In my first four years of freelancing I’ve written four books, edited another one, and published four: the Magic or Madness trilogy and Daughters of Earth. I sold my first novel only five months after going freelance. Not bad, eh?

Of course, I’d been trying to sell a novel since 1999, so it was four (almost five) years from first finished novel to first sold novel. And I’d been trying to sell short stories for much, much, much, much longer than that (way back into the eighties). I still haven’t had a pro sale for any of my short stories.1 And since I’ve pretty much stopped writing them, or sending them out, that’s unlikely to change any time soon.

Although the trilogy hasn’t earned out (bloody joint accounting!) it’s close and with the foreign sales of the trilogy (thank you, Whitney Lee) I’m now earning enough to support myself.2

But if someone who’d never sold a novel asked me whether they should go freelance I would tell them no.

No matter how talented or promising you are, going freelance without a single professional sale is madness. Perhaps you have a partner or a parent or a patron who’s willing to support you—it’s still dangerous and scary to try to make a living at something you’ve not proved yourself at. And there’s no guarantee that your partner or parent or patron will continue to support you. They might one day get jack of the whole thing. You might never make a single sale. Lots of extraordinarily talented people have failed to make a living as writers.

I have no idea what the future will bring. I’ve seen too many writers with stalled careers after even the most brilliant of starts to be sanguine about my own. The young adult market is thriving right now and advances seem to be going up all the time, but who knows how long that will last?

Yet despite the financial insecurity, the never knowing if my next book will sell or not, and the destruction of Scott’s health, these have been the best four years of my life. All the books I’ve published are the very best that I could make them at the time. There’s no book out there with my name on it that I’m ashamed of.

Turns out that I love being a writer. It’s what I’ve always wanted, and now I have it, it’s better than I imagined. Fingers crossed that it lasts.

Happy anniversary to me! And thank you, Scott, for everything.

NOTE: I apologise for the complete absence of April First Foolery. Fortunately others in the blogosphere are more than making up for my seriousness.

  1. When I sold to Strange Horizons in 2001 it wasn’t classified as a pro market. []
  2. Or to support the alternative me what doesn’t have expensive tastes and lives in Dubbo. []

Of fans and geeks

El and Rachel Brown correctly surmised that the fan half of my question was inspired by the bruhaha about whether John Scalzi should be nominated for a fan writing Hugo or not.

For the record: yes, Scalzi should, and I hope he wins for all the reasons that have been described in great detail here, here and here. I’m also not comfortable with people telling other people that they are or aren’t “fans” or “geeks” or anything else. Those are the kind of labels you get to choose for yourself.

The geek half was inspired by my being asked to contribute a story to an anthology about geeks and geekery. My instant response was to say, “No.” Not just because I can’t write short stories, but because I couldn’t begin to think of a geeky story. (Plus no way am I biting the head off a chicken. Ewww.)

Also I was just curious about how you lot define those words. Part of what’s interesting in the great Is-Scalzi-a-Fan debate is that there were so many different definitions of what a “fan” is, which led to much talking at cross purposes. Seems thesame is true of “geek”. Veronica defined it the way I would, but Cecil defined it the way I would define “fan”.

A number of people take “fan” to mean someone who loves something uncritically. I can’t help but laugh at that when I think of the number of letters I’ve had from self-proclaimed Magic or Madness fans who tell me in minute detail the stuff they don’t like about the trilogy, just as much as the stuff they do. Clearly, these are slippery, slippery terms.

Thanks everyone for such fascinating responses.

So why do I call myself a fan but not a geek?

Let’s take the word “fan” first. I’m not a fan of science fiction, which may sound odd for someone who did a Phd on it, which became a book. To be honest the whole PhD thing was never a passion. All I’ve ever wanted to do is be a writer, but as everyone knows there’s no money in that, so I went for an academic career to support my writing habit. The subject of my PhD was an accident. I’d read sf as a kid but I’d read lots of other things too and, honestly, I think the vast majority of sf (film, television or film) is on the nose. Many of the so-called classics of the genre like the work of Isaac Asimov or Arthur C. Clarke or Star Trek or Blade Runner leave me cold.

It’s the world building that does it for me with science fiction, being transported to somewhere that is not like the world I know. I get that just as readily from books about places I’m unfamiliar with: Japanese crime books fascinate me; Australian ones not so much. I also get that button pressed by books from the past (Jane Austen, Tale of Genji,1 Elizabeth Gaskell, Miles Franklin et al) historicals, fantasy, westerns and so on. Raymond Chandler, Patricia Highsmith and Jim Thompson create worlds that are almost completely alien to me. I adore their work.

I love the writings of Samuel R. Delany and Maureen McHugh and Ursula K. Le Guin. But I’m not convinced that it’s the science fictioness of their work that does it for me. I’m just as happy when they’re writing fantasy or memoirs or criticism or blogging or whatever else they choose to write. I love the way they string their words and sentences and paragraphs together. Yum.

If I were to be banned from reading one genre it would be less of a hardship for me if that genre were sf rather than fantasy or historicals. (Naturally, I exempt manga from all these categories.)

I’m also not a fan in the sense that Ulrika is talking about. That is I’m not a member of a community that came together around a love of science fiction in the late 1930s and is still going strong today. Or am I? I definitely feel like I’m a part of the WisCon community. For years I helped with the running of that particular science fiction convention. I was on the ConCom. Can you get much more fannish than that? And, like John Scalzi, I feel very much at home with many members of the science fiction community who definitely consider themselves to be fans.

However, I’ve never written fanfiction. So I’m not part of that thriving aspect of fandom. Nor do I read it. Though there are definitely books and stories I love, like The Wide Sargasso Sea, that are a kind of fanfiction—but the kind that plays around with out of copyright texts and thus gets to be published.

I’m happy to call myself a fan not just because of the WisCon thing, but because there are a lots of things I love. Elvis Presley’s voice. Cricket. Madeleine Vionnet and Hussein Chalayan’s clothes. The writing of way too many people to list here. I love Bring It On and Deadwood and Blue Murder and My Brilliant Career and ES and Nana and Osamu Tezuka and mangosteens and the food of countries like Spain and Mexico and Thailand and Japan and Italy and Ethiopia and the great wines of Australia and New Zealand and Argentina and South Africa and Italy and France and Spain and many other places.

I don’t think the word “fan” implies uncritical love. There are clothes of Vionnet and Chalayan’s that I think are naff, Cricket matches that bore me, Angela Carter books ditto, and Spanish food and French wine I’ve had to spit out.

So why aren’t I geek?

First up, the word is American and doesn’t have much resonance for me. I never heard it as a kid nor “nerd” neither. Not outside of a John Hughes movie. (That’s not true of younger Aussies.)

The people I know who are self-described nerds or geeks have passions for stuff that bores me. Video games, role-playing games, board games and the insides of computers. I have many friends who are into these things and, well, I am not like them in this regard. I do not know what “chaotic good” is, even though Scott’s explained it to me like a hundred times.

I’ve had flirtations with various computer games over the years, but my attention span for them is microscopic, and ulimately I’d much rather be reading a book.

Once I got into Go for about a year, to the extent that I was playing it with a bunch of Go fanatics on servers in Korea, and reading books on it. But it was largely research for a novel I was writing. When I finished writing the book my interest in playing Go lapsed. It’s still by far the best game I’ve ever played, but I doubt I’d even remember how anymore. I haven’t played since 1999.

Many of my geeky friends are also collectors.

I hate stuff. I spend a large chunk of my life recycling and throwing stuff out. I hate things that sit on the mantlepiece and serve no purpose other than to collect dust. I see no point in them. Nor in stuffed animals, or dolls, or collectable cards, or any of that. I love cricket but I have no desire for cricket stuff cluttering up my house and am endlessly giving away the cricket tat people give me (clothes excluded).

If I collect anything, it’s books, but I cull them ruthlessly and often. If I’m not going to reread it, or I’ve had it for more than a year without even cracking the spine and there seems little likelihood that I will, then out the book goes.

Also I have a terrible memory. Always have had. I can’t tell you what year Bring it On came out, or who directed it, or who all the actors are without looking it up. I have to read a book a billion times before I can remember any details about it and even then I’m pretty crap. I just did a test on Pride and Prejudice I don’t think I’ve read any book more times than that one. I got 5 out of 10. I would not be able to tell an original Vionnet gown from a knock off. I do not have the trainspotting gene.

So, yes to “fan” and to “enthusiast” (thanks, Bennett), no to “geek” or “nerd”. I’m also quite happy to be called a “dag”. Yes, I am also a “spaz”. (Though, Christopher, I say to you: Know thyself!) And “dilettante”? Oh, yes, that’s me. I have the attention span of a gnat.2

  1. I confess I have never finished The Tale of Genji despite repeated attempts. The bits I’ve read have been fabulous. It’s just that the book is so damned heavy and hard to read in bed. I know, I know . . . dilettante. []
  2. Except for blogging, apparently. Bugger but this was a long post . . . Sorry! []

Fans & Geeks

A question for you all:

Would you describe yourself as a fan, or a geek, or both? And if you do describe yourself in that way what do you mean by it? What’s your idea of a “fan”? Or of a “geek”?

For the record I’m a fan but not a geek.

My Future Writings

Magic’s Child only came out last Friday and already I’ve had a stack of letters and some comments here asking when there’ll be another book in the series.

Wow! I’m stoked at the enthusiasm and thrilled that you like the Magic or Madness world so much you want more. I’m not sure there’s a bigger compliment you can offer a writer. Thank you.

But right now I have no plans for more books set in that world.

Don’t yell at me! I’m not saying there won’t be books in the future. But there won’t be any in the immediate future.

Why? Lots of reasons but mostly because I need a break. I started work on the trilogy in June 2003 and had been thinking about it for months before then. I finished making corrections to Magic’s Child in early November 2006. So I spent more than three years solidly in that one world, with those same characters, and for now that’s enough. We need our space. Both the characters and me. Otherwise ugliness would ensue.

Also at the moment I have no idea what happens next. No clue at all. It’s very hard to write a book without any ideas.1

Right now I’m busy rewriting the fairy book (otherwise known as the Great Australian Elvis cricket fairy mangosteen YA novel), and on the weekend I started a new book.

What book was that? Remember I asked you all to vote on what I should write next?

Well, you voted and you chose by an overwhelming majority—

drum roll

very big drum roll

so big it’s still rolling

and rolling

and rolling

rolling

rolling

rolling

    The lodger book.2

So I started the sexy cricket one instead.

Nah, just kidding.

I really did start the lodger book. You know how sometimes starting a book consists of hours and hours of staring at the screen, lots of deciding the front room needs to be tidied, or that there’s urgent mail to be sent, or that it’s a long time since the sock (ew!) drawer was rearranged, or that perhaps a long walk is needed to get the thoughts to coalesce into words and sentences and paragraphs?

Not this time.

I sat down to write the lodger novel and had several thousands words in a matter of seconds. Scary excellent stuff! (I mean the writing process. I can’t tell about the words yet.) This book is practically writing itself. Yum.

Here’s hoping my Magic or Madness fans will enjoy also the fairy book and the lodger book. Oh, and that they find a publisher . . .

  1. I’m not saying it hasn’t been done. Do not ask me for examples! []
  2. The votes:
    Lodger book: 12
    Liar book: 8
    Cricket romance: 7
    Werewolf snowboarding epic: 6
    Baby killing ghost novel: 6
    Vintage clothes shop book: 4
    Hollywood book: 1
    NT family epic: 1
    Short story: 1 []

Idiocy

I was going to rant all over my blog today about the bloody ICC‘s idiotic decision to demand that youtube take down all footage from the World Cup. But then I found this excellent rant that says everything I want to say. Here’s a taste of Andrew Miller’s wrath:

Only three days ago it was suggested on this website that the events of the past week might serve as a wake-up call for cricket’s fiscally obsessed powerbrokers. Fat chance. A game run increasingly by lawyers for lawyers, has deemed it necessary to go to war on the very online enthusiasts who can spread the word of a game whose reputation has been dragged through the mincer.

It is an astoundingly short-sighted decision by a ruling body that has once again shown it is completely lacking in a sense of priorities. God knows that cricket could do with some good publicity at present. Only 24 hours ago, the ICC’s Lawyer-in-Chief, Malcolm Speed, was telling Cricinfo how wonderful the match between Australia and South Africa at St Kitts was turning out to be. “Let’s all just watch the cricket,” he suggested when queried about the latest murmurings about Bob Woolmer’s death. Mal, we’d love to. But 75% of your global audience have no means of tuning in.

Yes, that’s right the ICC is so money-grubbing that they sold off the TV rights to cable channels which the majority of cricket lovers in the UK and Australia can’t afford. Cable in those countries is crazy overpriced and—other than covering the cricket—crap. Trust me, I pony up the dosh specifically to watch the cricket. And the cricket is the beginning and the end of what’s good on cable. For most cricket fans youtube is the only way to catch glimpses—and it is only glimpses—of the World Cup.

When will all those moronic beaurocrats wake the hell up? I am so sick of copyright insanity. Colour me extremely bloody ropeable.

Norton nominee interviews

John Joseph Adams doesn’t quite have the full set (that would be Scott who’s not done his bit—he’s too busy writing Extras) but here are his interviews with the other Norton nominees:

I finally took a break from inhaling manga to inhale Susan Beth Pfeffer’s Life as we knew it. Wow. I’ll admit I’m fond of post-apocalypse books to start with, but this is a decidely superior example. I read it in one sitting. Could not put it down. Go forth and read! My only complaint: It’d be nice to read one post-apocylpse where New York City and Sydney were not wiped off the face of the earth. Is that too much to ask?

If I were a SFWA member my head would be exploding trying to figure out which book to vote for. They’re all so good (take it as read that I’m not talking about Magic or Madness). Devilish and Peeps are so funny, Touching Darkness so scary and Life as we knew it made me cry.

But I’m still leaning towards Megan Whalen Turner’s King of Attolia. That trilogy is breath-takingly fabulous. I’ve read the first two books, The Thief and Queen of Attolia, many times and King twice. They get better with every read. I hug them to my chest. I honestly can’t think of a better fantasy trilogy. I really hope it wins.

I am a foreignor

This morning at brunch we were subjected to dread awful music played too loudly.1 A whole CD’s worth.

“What is this crap?” I asked. “I’ve never heard it before. I hope never to hear it again.”

Scott looked at me like I was deranged. “You’ve never heard this before?”

I affirmed that I had not and was grateful that was the case. He continued to doubt me, asserting that the band had been huge in the eighties, and unless I grew up under a rock I could not have avoided hearing them.

“What band is it?” I asked. Scott looked blank and waved his hands around. “You know, one of those one-word bands from the eighties. Like Kansas or Toto or Berlin.”

We asked one of the waitrons who told us it was Foreigner Journey. She also expressed amazement that i did not know the band.

“She’s Australian,” Scott pointed out.

“So you like Abba then,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

I admitted as how that was true. “But people who don’t like Abba don’t like sunshine or mangosteens or freedom.”

“I hate Abba,” she said.

“You hate Swedes then,” I replied. “Swedish people are all about Abba and sunshine and mangosteens and freedom.”

“Oh no, I love Swedes! My girlfriend is Swedish,” she said clearing away our plates. “She plays Abba all the time. Ack!”

“You’ve really never heard Journey or Foreigner or Toto or Kansas before?” Scott asked.

I shook my head.

“What a blessed life you Australians lead.”

So, my Aussie readers, is my lack of knowledge of those one-word American bands from the eighties an aberration? Am I the only Aussie who doesn’t know them?

I’ve never listened to commercial radio. Maybe while I was listening to Triple J and 2SER and the other ABC radio stations, those bands were on high rotation on 2SM or 2MMM or somewhere like that. But I did watch Countdown and don’t remember seeing those bands there either. And I just flipped around these charts and couldn’t see them listed anywhere. But I was pretty cursory about it.

Do you Aussies know these bands? Were they as popular back home as they were here in the US of A? Seriously, everyone in the restaurants was playing air guitar and mouthing the lyrics. It was terrifying!

Help me out!

  1. How loudly? It was audible. That was too loud. []

You’ve read the Morm trilogy, now what?

I just received a lovely letter from a fan saying they’d just finished reading Magic’s Child (that was quick!) loved it and now want to know what to read next. They want something that will give them the same “glowy” feeling. *Blush*

Now because I wrote the trilogy I feel really weird saying what books I think are similar. Might make it look like I’m writing tickets on myself and my trilogy. So can you help out my fan? What books would you recommend as a follow up to my trilogy? Preferably books that are readily available.

Thanks!

First sighting of MC in the wild!

Magic's Child at Books Inc

This comes from Jennifer Laughran at Books Inc in San Franciso who reports:

It’s on the register! And we’ve already sold two in the five mins its been out of the box!!!!!!!!

Woo hoo!!!!

Now since Jennifer works at a book shop I thinks it’s only fair that I keep the prize open. So if you don’t work in a book shop and you’re the first to send me a piccie of my book out in the wild there’s a signed Magic’s Child and matching book marks just for you.

But you’ll still get your prize, Jennifer. You were first first.

National character

Shashi Tharoor has written a wry op ed piece for the New York Times on the World Cup and how Americans are oblivious to what is preoccupying a billion plus folks at the moment. It ends thus:

In any event, nothing about cricket seems suited to the American national character: its rich complexity, the infinite possibilities that could occur with each delivery of the ball, the dozen different ways of getting out, are all patterned for a society of endless forms and varieties, not of a homogenized McWorld. They are rather like Indian classical music, in which the basic laws are laid down but the performer then improvises gloriously, unshackled by anything so mundane as a written score.

Cricket is better suited to a country like India, where a majority of the population still consults astrologers and believes in the capricious influence of the planets — so they can well appreciate a sport in which, even more than in baseball, an ill-timed cloudburst, a badly prepared pitch, a lost toss of the coin at the start of a match or the sun in the eyes of a fielder can transform the outcome of a game. Even the possibility that five tense, hotly contested, occasionally meandering days of cricketing could still end in a draw seems derived from ancient Indian philosophy, which accepts profoundly that in life the journey is as important as the destination. Not exactly the American Dream.

Ha ha! That makes me giggle. Though to be honest I’m not convinced. Cricket’s popularity in India and elsewhere is an historical accident. If in the early days of cricket in America they’d had some home-grown cricketing heroes demolishing visiting English players and some ambitious entrepreneurs touring the game around the country and bringing in the dosh I reckon things woulda turned out differently.

Cricket’s also bloody popular back home. I’m pretty sure the majority of Australians don’t consult astrologers or believe in the capricious influence of planets (of pollies? yes, but planets? not so much). Or certainly we don’t do it any more than Americans do.

I’m always suspicious of sketches of “national character”. I’m not saying there aren’t difference between nations. I’m often amazed by the extraordinary confidence of the middle and upper classes in the US, especially the white folk. So many of them seem to have this sense of the inevitability of their own success (whether it’s happened yet or not). I’ve never met so many people who are just waiting for their first million, their first broadway show, big movie role, bestselling novel. No question in their mind that it will happen. Even if they’ve never acted or ever written anything longer than a limerick.

But I’ve also met enough Americans who are not like that, and Australians who are, to be wary of typing a whole people. People are complicated and large groups of them even more so and you can never discount regional and class and racial and gender differences.

I also wonder how much of that disturbing confidence is real and how much of it is people saying what they think they’re supposed to be saying.

Back home you’re emphatically not supposed to say stuff like that. If you do you’re a wanker who writes tickets on yourself. Being up yourself is one of the worst things anyone can say about you.

Here that attitude doesn’t seem nearly so wide spread. For instance American English has no home-grown synonyms (that I’ve heard) for “writing tickets” “being stuck up”, “getting above yourself”, “being up yourself”, or “being a wanker”. Mostly because they almost never accuse anyone of that kind of behaviour. Nor do they have the terms “tall poppies” or “cultural cringe”.

So while it might be true that on the whole Americans=confident and Australians=not confident. It could also be that we just know what we are and aren’t allowed to say out loud. If an Aussie says “I’m a genius!” odds are they’re being sarcastic. If a Usian says it not so much. But does the Aussie secretly think they are a genius while the Usian secretly fears they are not?

There are, of course, lots of exceptions to all of this. And things are changing in both countries. I even know Americans who adore cricket.


And, um, did I mention that I have a new book out, Magic’s Child? And, er, it’s not too foul. Really. Well, um, other people think it’s okay. Sorry. Don’t mind me. I’ll get out of your way now . . .

Perhaps today’s the day + non-crappy prize

That’s right, the final book of the trilogy, Magic’s Child should now be available in the US of A (and possibly Canada too). You can celebrate by

  • buying Magic’s Child
  • borrowing it from your library (or getting them to order it in ’cause they’re very unlikely to have it already)
  • reading it
  • reading the whole trilogy through all in one go (please to let me know what that’s like)
  • reading the first draft of the first book in the series, Magic or Madness and laughing at how bad my first drafts are
  • downloading a special Magic’s Child screensaver (they’re on the sidebar to your right—pretty flutterbyes!)
  • Reading through the various reviews of Magic’s Child
  • Making origami ammonites

Or if you’re me, the mad author, you sit and play with the hardcovers of Magic or Madness, Magic Lessons and Magic’s Child and chuckle madly to yourself “I did it! I did it! Look at my pretties! All finished! All finished!”

[Accompanying image of mad author assaulting her books censored. Your eyes are grateful.]

The first person to send me photographic evidence of actual copies ofMagic’s Child in an actual book shop will win a signed copy of the book complete with matching Magic’s Child bookmarks.

My very first online ad & other matters

For the next month, there’s an ad for Magic’s Child up on Locus online. Tis my very first one and I’m dead excited. Ordinarily, I can’t stand ads but somehow it’s different when it’s an ad for one of my books. That makes me want to pat it and sing it songs. Lovely, lovely ad. Designed by the fabulous Courtney Wood who also made those beautiful screensavers which you can now download from the links in the sidebar.

There is now a cover for the Science Fiction Book Club’s 3-in-1 version of my trilogy. It’s called The Magic or of Reason.

In other vainglorious news, the Hathor Legacy likes Daughters of Earth, describing it as the “perfect marriage of fantastic stories and excellent critical analysis”. Yay! That’s what I was going for.

And to stop skiting for a second, wouldn’t it be great if this happened? An ODI series between India and Australia right here in NYC? I could bring all my USian friends what want to learn about the noble game and convert them to the glories of cricket in their own country. Bliss!

Also this could be the day Magic’s Child is released into the wild. i await reports. Remember there is a prize for the first person to send me photographic evidence that my latest book exists and it may not be as crappy as I said.

Manga! Manga! Manga!

So, as mentioned I’ve been reading of the manga and the graphic novels and there has been much joy and bliss and wonder. As usual I don’t mention those what I’ve read and not enjoyed.

Buddha by Osamu Tezuka (Vol. 1)

Fabulous. I don’t have words for how much I loved it. Especially as I put off reading this one for almost a year. And I put it off for the lamest reason imaginable. See, back in the dark ages when I was in primary school one of my scripture teachers gave us all these Jesus comic books to read. They told the story of Jesus, and, well, there is no gentle way to put this: they sucked. The art was unspeakably bad. They were horribly written in a strange ESL English and they were indescribably boring. Seriously they were the worst comic books of all time.

When I was given Buddha, I had a flash back to those bad vile Jesus comic books, and even though the book in my hands had gorgeous artwork, it was still a comic book version of the life of a religious figure, and, I confess, that my heart was filled with dread.

Needlessly.

Buddha is funny, action-packed, moving, the art is gorgeous and Tatta is my new hero. Go forth and read this! I’m convinced that Tezuka can do no wrong.

Her Majesty’s Dragon Dog by Mick Takeuchi (Vols. 1-3)

I don’t want to tell you too much about this. I read it knowing nothing beforehand and it was full of delightful surprises. Kind of a sweet, wry version of Buffy only without vampires.

One of the things I really enjoyed about it and also Nana and Buddha too, now that I think about it, are all the cool, wry, witty authorial asides.

I suspect that I’ve just made a fool of myself in front of the hard-core manga lovers, haven’t I? That’s like a sign of it being manga, isn’t it? Are there any books about the history and development of manga I should be reading? Please to tell. I want to know more!

Monster by Naoki Urasawa (Vols. 1-7)

Wow. Seriously wow. This one seemed to this ignorant reader to owe a lot to Ode to Kirihito. Another doctor hero, lots of surgery scenes, also completely unputdownable. I can’t tell you what agonies I’m in waiting to get my hands on the next few volumes. It hits so many of my buttons, but I can’t say which without major spoilers.

I’d be really happy to discuss all of these in more detail in the comments thread. Just please please please don’t mention anything beyond the volumes I’ve read. And, um, I guess that constitutes a spoiler warning for the comments.

Here’s my big complaint about manga: it’s almost impossible to get hold of the volumes I want. I’ve tried every book shop in NYC trying to get hold of Her Majesty’s Dog vols 4, 5 & 6. And don’t get me started about Buddha. Is there a volume 2, 3, 4 or 5 available on the face of the earth? No, there is not. Lots of 9 and 10s though! Aaaarggghhh!!!!!!!! It drives me completely spare. I need them now. I do not wish to wait. Even stupid Amazon won’t give me more Her Majesty’s. I kick Amazon. I kick NYC book shops. I want more Buddha. And I want it NOW!!!

In short: Manga = good. Not being able to find the vols you want = bad.

Great editing or great publicity?

I was hanging out with a fabulous group of young adult writers t’other night and we got into a silly debate about the following question:

If you could only choose one which would you choose:

the publishing house with a wonderful editor who brings out the best in you, or

the house with fabulous publicity, marketing and sales departments?

A surprising number of authors plumped for publicity because they have a brilliant group of first readers who can critique their books so that even without a great editor they’d still be getting a kind of editing.

There were lots of attempts to cheat, like, “Can I have a pretty good editor and pretty good publicity?”

No! This is a hypothetical. You have to pick one!

A few people went into long rants about never having had either. To which we replied: This is a hypothetical, not real life! Stop moaning and pick one!

I had two wonderful editors at Razorbill, Eloise Flood and Liesa Abrams, who really did make the Magic or Madness trilogy so much better than it would have been. Ridiculously better. Working with them was the best working experience I’ve ever had. It’s intoxicating working with great editors. Better than champagne (or whatever substance is your equivalent of champagne).

If you’ve never been edited and want to get a sense of the process I recommend you read Dear Genius: The Letters of Ursula Nordstrom. She edited such obscure books as Charlotte’s Web and Where the Wild Things Are. Many of her authors claim that she was a genius, reading those letters made me agree with them.

I’ve also seen excellent publicity/sales/marketing teams at work, creating a hit out of a book that otherwise might have disappeared between the cracks. Sending the writer on pre-publication tour to meet all the “big mouths” of the genre, making a big splash at BEA/ALA etc, sending the author who’s set a book in a boarding school on a tour of boarding schools, setting up interviews and appearances with the big national media etc etc etc, creating smart and catchy advertisements online and off.

Anyone know of a good book about a great publiciist/sales or marketing type?

So what would you choose? Great editing or great publicity? And why?

An appearance + prize

If you’re around the fair city of New York in the Manhattan vicinity on Saturday, you might consider wending your way to the fabulous Books of Wonder children’s book shop where me and some other writers for teens will be talking about our stuff. We will even sign books for those who desire it:

Saturday, 24 March 2007, Noon to 2PM
Great Teen Reads
Lisa Barnham, Olivia Birdsall, Celeste Conway,
Justine Larbalestier, Lauren Myracle and Margo Rabb
Books of Wonder
18 W. 18th St
New York, NY

I met Olivia Birdsall last night (thanks for putting us in touch, Kelly!) and I can vouch that she is decidely witty. I have never met Lauren Myracle but her wit is legendary and New York Times bestselling certified! And I’m sure Lisa, Celeste and Margo are also wit personified. You would be crazy to miss this appearance.

I’m now hearing that Magic’s Child is actually out on Thursday. First person to spot it in a shop and send me photographic evidence wins a prize. It may be a crappy prize, but it will be a prize!

The sound of home

The whole accent thing has made me realise that I do listen out for accents—ones from home. Spending a lot of time o.s. has changed my relationship to Aussie accents. I’ve gone from thinking that they’re naff and boring to longing for them.

When I’m out and about and I hear an Aussie sometimes without even thinking about it I start to follow them. My heart beats faster, I get excited, my brain starts staccato bouncing the word home! home! home! home!

It gets me some very strange looks.

I never used to be that way. When I first travelled the last people in the world I wanted to run into were Aussies. Please! I wanted to meet foreignors. All those people out there who were from someplace different than me. I’m still a bit that way. For instance, I don’t know a single Aussie in NYC. After all, I spend half the year at home . . .

So, um, why do I get so excited every time I hear one of my people?

Dunno.

It’s even changed the music I listen to. Like right now I have Missy Higgins on high rotation. But I’m not sure I would love her music the way I do if she didn’t sing with such a distinctively Aussie accent, turning words like “know” and “go” into dipthongs.1 Yum!

In other news, did I mention that the official publication date of Magic’s Child in the US of A is this Friday?

  1. Actually I think they’re more like tripthongs: Knooohoooow. Stretch those vowels, people! Break them in half! []

Accents

Enough of you have been asking me what accents I think are sexy that I figured I’d best respond. My answer:

None.

There is no accent in the world that’s intrinsically sexy.

When I was little I thought Southern USian accents were sexy. Then I met more people from down there, travelled to Texas, North Carolina, Florida and Louisiana and heard many decidely unsexy voiced Southerners. Turned out I just thought Elvis’ voice is sexy. Which it is. But his accent is neither here nor there. He’d’ve had a sexy voice no matter where he lived.

Same for Clive Owen, Denzel Washington, Charlotte Rampling, John Clarke,1 Lauren Bacall and Grace Jones. It ain’t their accents—it’s their voices.

Being into accents is being into the other, having a yen for someone cause they’re not from round here. Nobody ever told me I had a sexy accent until I was many thousands of ks from home.

To sum up: voices sexy not accents.

And, um, Magic’s Child pubs on Friday.

  1. And a few more because I love Messers Clarke & Dawe so much. []