These are the top 15 books in each of the main Doctor Who series of novels, as ranked by the number of people who own them on LibraryThing (also the top 15 non-fiction Who books at the end). Apologies to co-authors who fall off the list due to LibraryThing's practice of prioritising first-named collaborators compounded by my laziness in not looking them up.
Edited to Add: Bah, listed one book twice. The Face of the Enemy is of course a Past Doctor Adventure not a Missing Adventure. But you can't edit polls, so there we are.
Second-hand crankiness My newest pet peeve: people who see an entry referencing some ongoing crisis and are too damned lazy to take a moment to check if it's been referenced in previous entries. "OMG, what's going on?!" = "I am not actually interested enough to expend two mouse clicks on you."
Is there a word that is the opposite of schadenfreude? Something that means "irritation at the discomfort inflicted on others by thoughtless oafs"? I need that word.
(a.) anonymous (b.) extremely short (c.) in a language I can't read* (d.) any combination of the above
I will assume it is spam and delete it.
If it was a sincere effort to communicate, please try again.
--- *Languages I can read: English, French, Middle English if you give me a dictionary and plenty of time, Anglo-Saxon ditto, Latin ditto, ancient Greek ditto only more so. I have German and Italian dictionaries, and I thought I had a Spanish dictionary, but that seems to be a myth.
Miscellany. Back in the office after a brief visit with family, now. I did do some catching-up yesterday (and was alarmed to see 24 top-priority messages in my inbox, though all were about an issue already resolved so no panic required) so today's fairly routine.
Apparently Dad got me a set-top digital-to-analog signal converter on my folks' last trip to the States, and gifted it to me as an early Birthday present. It looks nifty, but there seems to be an issue with my indoor antenna now that it's hooked to the DTV box and can only pick up one station at the moment. (And my analog reception's gone south, too, even when I take the box off.) I may have to get a replacement for the old antenna; it's over a decade old now, come to think of it, and the adjustment dials don't mesh too well anymore. Still, DTV is very pretty, near-DVD quality is nice to see from an over-the-air signal.
Tomorrow is Bungie Day, 7/7. This year won't be as elaborate but there are still fun things to do to mark the occasion. Alas, I seem to have mangled my left thumb's ball joint again while schlepping luggage so teh Haloz are contra-indicated until the inflammation goes down. Yay.
More later, but break's over.
-- Steve's delving into the telephone mines again.
Grumbling With the roadwork all nicely finished in the neighborhood, they are now resurfacing the playground in the school across the street. Stench and noise, again. At least I've turned in the sodding manuscript for THE SILVER MAGE.
Let's see, anything else I can complain about?
:-)
The proposal for the New Project is going okay. For a complete change, I'm now worried about it being too short.
We've had our usual summer weather -- heavy fog and a damp insidious cold, about 62 degrees Farenheit -- but today it's actually sunny and maybe a whole 68.
Current Mood: awake Current Music: Alasdair Fraser, "Dawn Dance"
The Holiday Weekend I hope everyone who had a holiday weekend enjoyed theirs. I ended up giving myself the holiday because I was suddenly very tired, but that just means I really have to work today.
I did most of my celebrating the night of the 3rd. We went to the big festival/fireworks display that night. The cool thing about that event is that the park where the festival is held is across the street from the municipal airport, so part of the event always includes fly-bys of vintage aircraft. This year, they also had a barnstormer, a stunt pilot who did some amazing things in both a biplane and another single-engine plane. He did all kinds of spirals and loops, and he did a lot of fake crashes, where he'd climb straight up, let the plane stall out, then do a steep dive of the "I'm hit!" variety, sometimes even with smoke and flames coming from the plane. I'd hold my breath every time, thinking this really would be the time he crashed, but he always came back. There was also a wingwalker -- though it was more of a wing stander as he was thoroughly strapped in place, which was probably good because the pilot was doing loops while the guy was standing on top of the biplane's wing. Then after dark the stunt pilot went at it again, with streams of sparks trailing from the wings, which created patterns with all the loops and spirals. He also dropped "bombs" that were fireworks. I would have said that the fireworks were almost anticlimactic after that, but they set off something like 2,000 shells in half an hour, so the fireworks were good, too. I like being fairly close when fireworks are going off because the noise creates much of the visceral impact. I like to feel the fireworks and get that sense that they're coming right at me.
Meanwhile, there was a Civil War re-enactment fife and drum corps wandering the park, some classic rock cover bands playing, a military band, some tempting food (I only gave in on the Italian ice), a big-screen outdoor showing of Raiders of the Lost Ark while the traffic cleared out, and all in all a good time.
Some TV watching over the weekend included catching up on Merlin OnDemand, and I must say that in all the variations on Merlin I've read (and I read a lot before I wrote my own version), I never pictured him as being too stupid to live, so silly that his friends keep landing in the dungeon thanks to his misguided attempts to help them. If this were a real series that was likely to be long-term, I wouldn't bother, but since it's a short-term British import, it's kind of like watching a train wreck. Poor Tony Head, stuck playing an absolute idiot strawman of a character (when your hero is that stupid, the antagonist has to have just barely enough brain function to sustain life). I saw a couple of episodes of Royal Pains, and I think the main character is okay when he's not busy bleating about how terrible it is to have to be paid lots of money to provide medical care to (shudder) rich people, but I really like the physician assistant chick because I love characters who are prepared for everything while also being cool and snarky. Then I finally saw the first movie with the newest Bond, and I'm not really impressed. If they wanted to make movies about a tough-guy action hero, then yay, but don't call him James Bond. Those movies only work when they're pretty much campy comic books with all the gadgets and improbably named characters and villains the likes of which no real MI-6 agent would ever see. Trying to be too realistic about it just exposes the weaknesses of the premise and makes Bond into a womanizing, cradle-robbing thug.
I think there was something else I watched, but I can't remember what it was, so it must have been really good. Meanwhile, I also managed to move a couple of books off the To-Be-Read shelf. I didn't exactly read them, but when my eyes were rolling out of their sockets by chapter three, I figured it would be okay to throw them into the "donate or sell" box.
Now, though, I want to take advantage of a rare relatively cool July day (I have to keep reminding my body that it is not fall yet and we shouldn't get too excited) by taking a walk, and then it's back to serious work.
Armageddon Not the Ben Affleck Armageddon, the Andy Lau Armageddon.
A disjointed, over-stuffed, intermittently coherent movie (or possibly several movies jammed together) made watchable and, if in company, extremely amusing, by the presence of the gorgeous Andy Lau and by its high WTF quotient.
I began watching this by myself. In the first two minutes, a priest spontaneously combusts. Then it cuts to sad computer scientist Andy Lau, moping adorably on his yacht. One of the very best features of this film was Andy Lau curled up sadly in chairs, sofas, etc. Oyce and I kept wanting to hug and cuddle him.
And then something happened that made me fall off my sofa laughing hysterically. I stopped the film, deciding that I needed to watch it with Oyce to watch her reaction to this.
At the level where I'm at, an awfully large portion of my job is basically secretarial work -- I make notes, and get information which I put into a computer, and so on. Then there's administrative stuff, and sort of routine decision making. "Do we dig this pit the normal way we dig pits?" and so on. Add in an occasional bout of heavy manual labor, a bit of memorization of pottery types and forms, and then there's the part that involves thinking. I like that part best, though I'll admit to fondness for the memorization as well.
Which isn't to say that I'm going to be able to think my way into finding a function, or even a clear description of the stone installation. But I'm going to get as much evidence as it's willing to give me, and see what I can make of it.
And, for those of you wondering where we went on Uriel's birthday, it was ( . . . )
The music of writing ramblin_phyl reminded me of the time we warbled the "writer's anthem" at a con we attended together - we chose "Show me" from "My Fair Lady" as the ultimate admonition to writers.
Yes, this one:
That vigorous "SHOW ME!" should be a meme for all writers everywhere. Show me NOW! Please don't, as the lady puts it, "exp'line", don't tell me, SHOW ME!
Put me there with the protagonist. Let me feel the heat or the cold or breathe the dust, or be afraid or be triumphant. Show me. Let me be there; let me, in the final battle, stand beside the king, and not off on a distant hill writing down notes for later, film at 11. Show me. Let me a part of the story.
But there are so many other ways music can be a part of a writing life.
I have a couple of examples from, of all people, ABBA - who were sometimes seriously underestimated. Yes, they started as bubblehead pop, with Mamma Mia and Waterloo - but some of their later songs, the ballads, were thoughtful, even mythopoeic. They are definitely "what if" songs, triggering stories. Here's a couple, one from each of the girls, just to even things out - first a gentle remembrance song from Annifrid -
- and then a tour-de-force by Agneta -
Listen to the lyrics for this one. It's a story - it's a story done in the space of a few verses of song. "I had no sense of living without aim/the day before you came" - omigod. That just spills over with potential. (What HAPPENED the day that he DID arrive? The day after? THe rest of their lives...?)
There's lots of songs like that. Brimming with questions which stories leap up to answer. Inspirations.
But you can't write TO that music. The words are what triggers you, and if you're already in the story you don't want to be retriggered to something else again.
The music to write to are the instrumentals, and here's a couple of examples of that -
- this piece of music, from "Dragonheart", was the reason I started my CD collection. I walked out of that movie craving the music, I could only get it on CD, so I bought the CD - and then had to buy the CD player to play it on - and now I have mumble CDs on my shelf... music can be dangerous. But MAN, the mood of this. It just gives my heart a squeeze and makes me somehow oddly sad but also proud, and determined, and ready to take a stand and take whatever is being flung at me. That's the power of a mood piece:
The other example is a piece of music from a movie called "Hanover Street". In this particular clip, you get the full impact of that sweet sad introduction theme - and they you also get a glimpse of the story that follows it. If you can find the movie, watch it. It always reduces me to tears. BEAUTIFULLY done, and although the story is an oft-told one - people loved, if not wisely then too well, and then did things in the name of that love which were strange, or impulsive, or indefensible, but always fuelled by a passion for living - the story might be old, but it's something that we are all living, one way or another, and the very familiarity breeds a recognition which makes you respond viscerally. The power of story.
So - if you write - what kind of music inspires you? What kind of music do you write about? What kind of music do you write to?...
Updatery Item 1: We had a fantastically wicked thunderstorm last night - wooo! Thunder and lightning isn't common for my part of the world, and so to sit up and watch the forked lightning streak across the sky (usually we only get sheet lightning) - awesome!
Item 2: Part of my radio silence has been due to heavy-duty, running-deep work on SUN, work where I'm learning more about my process and what I need to do in order to do justice the story I wish to write. It's funny, there's a pattern there that I didn't see, if only because I've needed a couple of novels to look back on. Sort of like walking a labyrinth, I think - the pattern is only discernible when one looks back. Or, maybe it's only discernible when one morphs into a crow and looks at the labyrinth from above. Either way, I think I see the pattern now, and will hopefully be able to identify its twists and turns in the future - or, at least, hold on to that length of string and find my way back through.
At any rate, this story has gone in some directions that I would never have thought possible, directions that couldn't have happened if I didn't have some very helpful people asking me some very tough questions. So, that is a good thing.
Item 3: Reading - oh, have I been reading lately! Isn't reading one of life's great pleasures? So many wonderful books, and sometimes I find myself saddened by the knowledge that I'll never be able to read them all. I'll only ever get to sample a smattering at best, but lately - what a feast! Stuff by James Hillman and Thomas Moore on the non-fiction side, and A.S. Byatt and Rosemary Sutcliffe on the fiction side of things. And poetry by Mary Oliver. (Oh, and thank you, ryan_howse for recommending "Art of Fiction" - this book has been so helpful and inspiring - yay!)
My world is richer for books.
Item 4: In my continued quest to become a somewhat grounded individual, I have returned to another great love of mine: calligraphy. Over the last while, I've been dabbling in artisty things, and have come up dissatisfied. Well, perhaps dissatisfied isn't the right word. Confused might be, especially in regards to my intentions. I enjoy drawing because I understand pencils and paper. I do not, however, understand paint. I wish to paint those beautiful scenes like those of Samuel Palmer, but I get incredibly frustrated when I set out to paint with watercolour because my own technique (if, in fact, that is what it could be called) is so incredibly random. I set out for something Samuel Palmer-esque, and instead get carried away with letting the paints do what they want, which means I'm not really painting, but observing, more or less. The paint does the work. I just slap it on.
That's a long way of saying that there's something so satisfying about pen and ink, about carving letters into a piece of paper. And, I understand ink. I also like it when my hands get covered in ink (the curse of being a lefty), provided I don't wipe it on my face, which has been known to happen. From time to time.
Anyhow, I have some plans for these calligrapic adventures, plans that I shall keep close to my chest for the time being, though I did try to scan some letters, but my scanner is possessed and is convinced that I do not, in fact, want to scan full pages. What I really want to do is scan 4x6 photographs - or so it believes. Honestly, there are days when I'm convinced all my electronic devices are sentient beings who are conspiring against me. And with each other. And with watercolour paint.
I hope everyone out there is happy and well and enjoying summer!
All things bright and...hmmm.... The weekend migraine is finally easing off, though the house looks like someone didn't spend time straightening up or cleaning this weekend (or for the past month, for that matter.) With out-of-state company coming by this afternoon, that's not great.
OTOH, the bread is in the oven beginning to smell wonderful.
And I found four different things in bloom (in the yard only) to put in a little vase for the kitchen table, which is clean, has a clean cloth on it, and plates and eating utensils laid out. Ironweed, firecracker bush, Mexican oregano, and scarlet sage. Two colors of purple ("aggressive" and "gentle"), orange, and pure true red.
And the headache's eased off.
Rain, on the other hand, did not fall upon us even though it got very, very close and sprinkled (we did get four tenths of an inch yesterday evening.) At least it's cloudy and thus not evaporating the four tenths immediately after they fall (this happens. Hard shower, sun comes out, wind dries it, plants get nothing.)
I'm gathering energy to shove things on the living room floor under the piano so we can move around *a little* in there.
The Return of the American Burying Beetle Having regularly encountered one species of the Nicrophorus burying beetle in upstate New York when I was much younger, I was surprised to find out that the once-common Nicrophorus americanus is now endangered across its entire range. Naturally, I'm thrilled to discover efforts intended to bring it back. As the researchers already know, there's just something about these beetles that encourages a sympathetic response, and I couldn't tell you in a million years what it is.
The idea was indeed launched at book group when one member mentioned a kids' party at a bouncy castle place and the ever-awesome butterandjelly turned to me and gasped, "That would be perfect for Ferrett's birthday!"
And indeed, it was a terrific idea. It was something that he'd never done before - an absolute requirement - plus it was in town, which meant available to more of our friends.
Then it was a matter of finding a place. With the help of the mothers in book group, I located about 4 party places with inflatables. I looked at each of their websites. Apparently there is a requirement for these places to have dreadful websites, because for two of them I could never locate a telephone number and had to use their "contact us" forms in order to try and get ahold of them.
One of the places never got back to me at all. One actually answered the phone, but when I asked about adult parties gave me a flat "no," and hung up. One thought they might be able to accommodate us, but their bounce house had a weight limit of about 150 pounds per person, so really not adult friendly. One was quite receptive, had done a couple adult parties, and thought they could accommodate us, but was all the way down in Canton, about an hour drive south of here.
That left the place that never got back to me. What they did have was open bounce time on Fridays, so bec76 and I ventured out there on a Friday morning.
Yes,this was Zero Gravity. Yes, it was completely awesome. Yes, something had glitched in their "contact us" page and they hadn't gotten my email. Yes, they have added their phone number to the web page since then.
Bec and I fell in love with the place as soon as they took us into the space portal and switched on the flux capacitors. They had us at hello. And, as soon as we convinced them that we really were perfectly fine with the no alcohol rule, we had them with the notion of a 40th birthday party. It was just a matter of sending out invites and waiting for the day to arrive, no worries.
Okay, there were a few speedbumps along the way - major abdominal surgery for the birthday boy and a dear friend, for example - but the party itself was great fun. As as hanging out at our house afterward, playing Rock Band and visiting until 2:30 in the morning.
The July 4 barbecue got scaled down considerably. Late in the evening of the party I had told Bec and Jer (zodarzone) that I would call them to come on over when we got up. But my exhaustion- (and rum-)addled brain forgot that. So I was sitting here in something of a fog, wondering why they didn't show up, and missed their phone call from being in the shower.
Wonderful people that they are, they came over about 3, built my barbecue for me, and then left in time to get Bec to work.
My bad, sweeties. I'm sorry for being a dolt.
Our friend Jim (jumpinfool, but he doesn't actually post) then stumbled into the scene just in time to be put in charge of making fire and cooking meats. Thank you to him.
I was, to be honest, sort of a mess by that time. So much stress finally getting to me and leaving me pretty braindead. But thanks to kisekinotenshi, the condiments and cutlery and stuff got arranged on the table and there was food. And people came and went and ate and visited. Then kisekinotenshi discovered that she had an early shift on Sunday and had to leave to drive back to Cincinnati. That left Ferrett, me, Jim, aiela, and Eric and Kat's 5-year-old daughter for fireworks, Erin feeling too worn out to go. We went, the crowd was huge, we finally found parking, and we watched the awesome fireworks show.
And then there was hang-out time with my daughter before she left for Massachusetts, going to bed way too late again, and being braindead all yesterday.
The synapses, they begin to snap again. A little at a time. Many other people were at the party who aren't mentioned here. I will eventually put up a post identifying you all for each other. For now? Time for another nap.
Hm. I'm skimming through Shayara stuff again. Pondering releasing bits of "My Empire for Ashes" during Blogathon, if I can get into editing headspace by then... and pondering getting back to writing Jessa and Fenris's as-yet-untitled story. Because that comes next, and because the person Fenris is largely based on is on my mind quite a bit lately.
And it occurred to me that, while the main story of Shayara is a big sprawling thing on grand epic themes, the side stories and before-our-story-begins stories are very focused and intimate. An organic process, I think. I've lived half my life with these characters, and they've grown until there's no room in the main story for great swathes of their individual stories.... and I love people, fictional or not, so while I tell stories of revolution and redemption, I make room to tell you about lost loves and broken hearts and the fractures that shape these people. I have a bad case of the "why"s, you know. An estimated 20K of "My Empire for Ashes" is because, the night before the big battle that closes Act Two, Katrina comes to the castle to see her abandoned daughters - her sole return to the city after she left thirtyish years ago to join the Council's breeding program - and, when she is dismissed, she and Telenias see each other on the balcony -
and they both pause.
And I thought Huh. Why?
They have a history, that's why. Why? He was the first person she met when she stumbled into the city. So wait, why did they break up? And why did she go to Stephen? Ah, now that's a story. And one that the main arc is too packed to hold.
So.
And Jessa is one of my favorite characters - and you never get to see her in the main arc. She dies five years before our story begins. But she's Important, in that there might never have been a revolution had she not stood up first. And she's Important to many of our characters - you never meet Jessa in the story proper, but you see her light reflected everywhere. In her daughter, in her best friend, in people who respected and admired her, in one who was obsessed with her and one who had her killed.
And Fenris (in icon), the aforementioned best friend, is one of my favorite characters as well. Him, you get to see plenty of! But he wouldn't be who he is had it not been for her being who she was.
And they have a story, oh yes. That would never really be told in the course of the main arc, because, well, she's dead.
And I find that telling these stories that happen thirty, twenty, ten, five years before our story begins - it gives you so much more of this world and its evolution. It gives you the Council getting more and more malevolent. It gives you backstory and worldbuilding.
And it gives you these people. These big complex people who, alas, cannot be my primary characters, but who I still love.
The problem with writing in this world is that it is so large. And so by narrowing the focus, you lose so much. And by going from comics to straight text, you lose a lot, too - I can't paint characters with color and scene and movement as vividly as I could with comics. What I love about comics is that you can tell so much more of the story in them. No ham-handed descriptors - the visuals are right there. And you can hide things - Jeramie's facial expression in this scene, the object on Fenris's desk in that scene. Things the eye skims over on a comics page sometimes, that on your second and third read you'll go "Oh. OH. Holy shit, dude, that was right there."
So I'm sculpting instead of painting; I am cutting away everything that is not this story. But - I honor and love people. And I want to tell their stories, too.
Publisher's Weekly says it's "sometimes amusing, sometimes terrifying," and that "fans will enjoy the developing complexities."
Romantic Times gives it four stars and says:
Spirited heroine Megan Chase returns in a swift-moving story full of chills, thrills and exploding demons. Get ready for an action-packed rollercoaster ride. Kane’s unique take on the supernatural is entertaining, and flaming hot sex with a fire demons heats up the pages
.
Darque Reviews says:
Ms. Kane packs this book with action at each turn, and a sizzling romance that heats up every page. Demon Inside plunges readers deeper into a world where demons and danger go hand in hand. I’ll be looking forward to the next Megan Chase adventure.
I posted another excerpt of the book on July 4th on the livejournal; a fun, sexy little scene, that's actually one of my favorites in the whole book.
And I'm gearing up for some interviews and giveaways and other fun stuff, which I'll mention as soon as everything is set. :-)
Also, the new website should be ready to go live after the 13th, which is pretty exciting. And I'm going to try to do some sort of spiffy thing for that, and will have more news soon.
One of the things I'll be doing with the new site is setting up a "street team." Which is basically a little gang of readers (I'm calling mine the Downside Army, heh) who help promote the books by doing simple things like dropping off postcards at their local bookstores, or talking about the books, or whatever. (NOTE: This does NOT include such unethical practices as moving my books to the bookstore front tables in place of someone else's books, or rearranging shelves in bookstores, or ganging up on lukewarm reviews on Amazon. Seriously. I would be extremely uncomfortable and unhappy if such things were done in my name; all it does is screw other writers, create more work for booksellers, and make everyone involved look bad. This is supposed to be fun, not guerilla warfare.)
In exchange for these tasks, Army members are eligible for special giveaways and bonus content, and whatever else may strike my fancy.
It's a volunteer thing, of course, and you participate at whatever level you're comfortable with. Say you don't have a local store or don't feel like going in to rave at the staff members about the book(s). Don't do it, then. Write a review on Amazon instead (an HONEST one). Or start a discussion about it. Or post about it on your own blog. The idea is to get some buzz going simply by doing what you would do anyway about/for a book or author you like, but to get some gratitude-based payback from me for it. Not that I'm not thankful to everyone who talks about the books or has emailed me or reviews them, just...This is a little more than that, is all.
Once the site is up I'm going to set up a special email address for the Army, and you'll be able to sign up if you want.
I think that's good for today. But I do have more to discuss on Thursday. :-)
Anyone know a good plumber? Our three year old bathtub just failed. A hole has broken in the bottom. I suspect it may be an installation error. Grumble.
irritated
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