Lane Robins' Journal

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Music & other temporary obsessions
It's that time of year again. I'm sick of all of the music I own and want to hear something new, something wonderful, something AWESOME. But since I no longer listen to the radio, I'm out of the loop. It's cold and grey and quiet outside. I want something that makes some noise. I want something with just enough of an edge to cut through the gloom. I want something with a beat that breaks through the urge to hibernate.

Any recommendations?

Music I have loved in the past year or so: Corvus Corax, Abney Park, Johnny Hollow, Kidneythieves, Shivaree, Eisbrecher, Bitter:Sweet.
Music I always love: Nine Inch Nails, Depeche Mode, Tom Waits, Leslie Fish.
The only music I don't like: jazz with brass. Piano by itself. (yes, this from a woman who once played the piano seriously.)

I will listen to anything at least once. :)

Other than that, I've been pushing back the cold (though to be fair, we haven't had much of it yet) by obsessing over Supernatural. This is such a weird show for me. I watched the first season all those years ago, and walked away all "meh". I liked the actors who played the brothers. I liked the style and the freaky hotels. I liked the world. Hated the end of the first season: thought it was unearned melodrama. But, I was living with a tivo and it faithfully kept recording it. So I kept watching it. And the second season made me sit up and go "oooh", with far more good episodes than awkward ones.

Season 3 had an interesting arc--would they really kill off one of the main characters?--but also an enormous amount of misogyny. Then, when the end of the season neared, I had a really odd realization that I didn't want to watch it. I was terrified that the one character would die, and I didn't want to see that. That was also the moment that I realized that hey, the writers were doing something right: I was utterly invested in a fictional person, and I couldn't bear to see him killed. Season 4 brought in a new character, and somehow cemented the obsession. From what I hear, season 5 is continuing on pretty well. I am endeavoring to be patient.

The thing that keeps me fascinated is this is a series where the characters routinely win the battles--and yet, they're losing the war. Badly. That's amazing; I can't wait to see where this road trip ends.

cat with opinions
The elderly kitty has taken up editing, randomly rolling his paws around on the edge of my keyboard. Today, his biggest complaint is with a description.

His contribution? Asking me if I REALLY REALLY want to use this descriptor.

all false O""""""""""""""""""""???????????????????????????????????????????????????phelias

You know, at least other critiquers wait for me to give them the pages first!

Chipping away

Originally published at LaneRobins.com. You can comment here or there.

Oh, the pet project. . . . I've decided I want to do something with it. So it's time for revision. The problem is: the pet project was fun to write but it's a monster to revise. A lot of the things I let slide in a pet project are just no good at all in a real novel. Chapter two, I'm looking at you and your nested flashback. Long flashbacks are tricky at the best of times. A nested flashback? Is an abomination. I'm pretty sure they take away your writing license for committing it, unless you're doing it with exquisite artistry. This nested flashback? No artistry.

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A miscellany
Nearly the end of October and I'm just realizing I never posted a recap of September. That could be simply because September was kind of a null for writing-related progress. I finished revising Ghosts & Echoes, did a lot of maintenance writing--outlining, plotting, organizing, all the boring stuff that somehow I have to do to get my headspace clear to concentrate. I didn't even get a chance to read anything! One and a half books in September. That's pretty dreadful.

October's been all about new starts, playing with book beginnings, testing the waters, seeing if this is the right place to start, or how about this, or what if I skip all of that backstory entirely? What if I shift the story left of center and go for a more romantic feel? All the fun stuff.

Fall's kicking in with a vengeance--and that's a source of some worry. When I was a kid, I was always envious of those lucky people who had real seasons. After nearly twenty years with seasons? I hate winter. I hate the dark and the cold and I have to do constant mental maintenance to keep myself from going into hibernation mode--if it's good enough for bears, it seems like it should be good enough for me. This year I may try to squeeze in a trip south and soak up sunlight. If I weren't terrified of skin cancer, I would hit sunbeds. And yes, I understand the idiocy of fearing tanning beds, and yet planning a trip south. Though in actual sunlight, I would slather on the sunscreen. It's mostly about visual light, anyway. And oh yeah, the warmth.

Fall also brings gorgeous leaves, crazy squirrels digging all over the yard, and, as of two nights ago, the first mouse slaughter. It's just not fall until some mouse decides to poke its whiskers in out of the cold and doesn't live to regret it. This is, after all, the house of four cats, three of which are sharp-clawed.

The puppy still continues well: she and the siamese mix have bonded over their desire to eat the squirrels, and the conviction that they can actually catch one. Considering that today the puppy managed to chase a squirrel with such energy that she actually managed to leap into the first crook of the tree which is about four feet off the ground--they may actually manage it.

Reading: I just finished Child of Fire, which I adored. I'm about to start a re-read of Frankenstein for

calico_reaction 's online group read.

Starting the new book

Originally published at LaneRobins.com. You can comment here or there.

Starting a new book always intimidates and thrills me in equal portions. There's so much work to be done before the prose ever starts. I'm a bit of a clockwork writer--things have to go in a certain order before the book begins, and at this point, I don't know if that process is necessary or just my way of winding my brain up.

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Lyn Benedict: Ghosts & Echoes Cover Art
So the cover art for Ghosts & Echoes, book 2 of the Sylvie series is here! How much do I love it? Tons and tons and tons. I've been insanely fortunate with the cover art for my books--from the gorgeous and lush Maledicte/Kings & Assassins, to the much grittier toned Sylvie books.

Who knew pastels could be so moody or threatening?

Reading: Season of the Witch by Natasha Mostert.

Puppy! & Pets in general.
The puppy, after some delays--spay issues, etc--has finally made it to my house. I was worried the cats were going to be annoyed. I figured Siggy (the large black siamese mix) would be happy--she has an unaccountable fondness for dogs. Rikki (little old man cat) would be resigned. But Chibi and Merlin? I figured at best, Merlin would be under the bed for a week, and Chibi would turn into the hiss-monster.

Oddly, this has not occurred. Siggy is pleased, Rikki is resigned, and Chibi is utterly unbothered. In fact, she is chasing the puppy's leash around and around. (I tend to keep new dogs leashed for easier training.) And Merlin, Mr OH GOD THE WORLD IS ENDING at every change in his routine, is wandering around the puppy growling softly, but not freaking out.

The puppy has been very good so far--not chasing the cats, testing out her blanket, investigating. And oh yes, when I took her into the yard, she pounced and killed a leaf. It's really something to see a dog who, in the shelter, was calm and friendly but reserved and tense, just take a breath and relax. She's doing the happy panting face thing and her tail is wagging non-stop.

So far the biggest frustration in her life is that I won't let her go upstairs--it's carpeted, and I don't know how housetrained she is/isn't.

Happy puppy day to me!

Psyke's Very Bad Day pt 3

Originally published at LaneRobins.com. You can comment here or there.

Psyke woke, thick-headed and cold, from dreams of breathlessness and terror. The tisane Olympia had fed her, a poisonously sweet concoction of Petal, bitter chocolate, boiled milk, and sugar syrup had done its work most thoroughly. Time seemed clouded, her head mazed, and her body as lethargic as river silt.

Her world was darkness streaked with grainy light, and the faint sour smell of her breath was directed back at her, captured by cloth.

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Psyke's Very Bad Day pt 2

Originally published at LaneRobins.com. You can comment here or there.

When Psyke returned to the ballroom, arms prickling, bare with cold and vulnerability, a man's shadow crossed her path, too close to be a servant. Maledicte, she thought, and her fairly trapped. But a glance up and further up still reassured her of that even as her breath caught. This wasn't Maledicte at all, but Maledicte's lover: Janus Ixion, Lord Last, the bastard nephew of the king.

Her smile never faltered, even as Ixion bowed silently, and without a word, or even truly a glance at her, offered a hand.

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Psyke's Very Bad Day pt 1

Originally published at LaneRobins.com. You can comment here or there.

Psyke's Very Bad Day, pt 1/3

These are a few (longish) scenes that never made it into Kings & Assassins.

Why this didn't make the book?: It was a prologue that references a whole lot of people who would be irrelevant to the plot of Kings. Plus, the nervous debutante was just the wrong feel for the rest of the book. Those of you who've read Kings will find certain phrases or parts familiar--they were cannibalized for use later. Still, I have a fondness for these scenes; they gave me my first look at the kind of woman Psyke Bellane might be.

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yay filk music!
I'm not particularly big on nostalgia, and most of the music I listened to in high school (cassette tapes! records!), I have long since removed from my life and memory. That said, in my last year of high school, I stumbled across Firebird Arts and their selection of filk music and a woman named Leslie Fish.

I ordered, on a whim, a copy of Chickasaw Mountain. I had to reorder the tape again, when I'd played it into the dirt. And even that cassette has been dead for many years. The songs in my brain, however, are not.

Last night, after finding myself singing Mount Tam under my breath while revising, decided to look her up online. It was late, I was easily discouraged, and I gave up all hope of finding another copy of Chickasaw. I am no good at downloading or finding mp3s, so I just resigned myself to having the songs only in my memory.

Sometimes, if you ask, the universe provides.

Received an email today from Prometheus music saying they're planning to put Mount Tam on CD.
Go universe!

That's a nice way to start a too-early Saturday morning.

Currently reading: my own mangled prose.

the surreal world
Sometimes the world just BEGS you to write a story.

Coming back from my lunch break, I noticed that many of the sidewalk sculptures have been removed to make way for the new batch. I noticed this by stepping on a patch of sidewalk that was smoother, looked down, realized I was standing where a sculpture had been, my boot heel on the brass plaque. When I stepped away, it said Time Marker, or some such combination of words. I didn't pay a whole lot of attention to it.

Then next block, a young man on the bench, holding up a sign. "TEMPORALLY HOMELESS. PLEASE HELP."

Add 1 + 1 and hey presto.

Story.
And obviously not a happy one, given his situation.

But still, the world wants us to tell each other stories. Our brains are hardwired to find patterns, or to create them out of nothing. And that, as always, amazes me.

August
Last month I was behind and the month before was a disaster, so this time I'm accounting for the month a little on the early side. But really, not much is going to change in the next two days.

Writing wise:
A lot of fits and starts. I did a lot of what my brain considers not-quite-writing, but is still utterly essential. In other words, I wrote up more synopses for books I wanted to sell to various people. It's amazing how you can agonize over every word in things like that. Then I got back to attempt to revise the Beasts and ran into the dreaded chapter three (again) which consisted of (oh dear god, what was I thinking!?) three nested flashbacks. By the time I forced myself through that and crept up on chapter 4 which ended with an all caps reproach to myself, I had to take a break or watch my head explode. I decided I needed a new scene and have sketched that interim scene out, which allows the action scene to be well, action! instead of shoot people, stop & talk, shoot people some more.
I also started the revisions for Sylvie 2: Ghosts and Echoes. Thankfully, that is going much better than the Beasts. I think it's all in the name. Why should I be surprised when the Beasts are Beastly?

Other than that, trying to work my way through the to be read shelf.

This month I plowed through
The Women of Nell Gwynne's - Kage Baker
Vanished - Kat Richardson
The Becoming - Jeanne C Stein
Night Huntress - Yasmine Galenorn
Salt & Silver - Anna Katherine
Finger Lickin' Fifteen - Janet Evanovich
Julian Comstock - Robert Charles Wilson
Shelf Discovery - Lizzie Skurnick
In the Woods - Tana French

I really enjoyed The Women of Nell Gwynne, devoured Vanished, and was highly amused by Salt & Silver. But the standout has to be In the Woods. Thanks for the rec,

juushika , it was awesome and I am cursing myself for finishing it after all the local bookstores have closed.

A belated thanks to

rogue_psion for the recommendation of Mark of the Demon which I read and enjoyed last month.

Misc
Things to do when faced with an unexpected Napoleon?

Buy it, eat it, call it lunch, and ride out the sugar rush all day long.

Mmmm.

Currently reading: The Purple & the Black

Fighting the television instinct

Originally published at LaneRobins.com. You can comment here or there.

So, I've been revising the Beasts, filling in all the blanks--*cough* setting *cough*-- adding those things that make a novel work better--you know, things like character conflict, like foreshadowing, like PLOT--and I've gotten up to chapter five.

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Book catch up
Forgot to list my reading for the past couple months! While July was very full of workshopping, and not particularly conducive to reading, June was reasonably amenable to me taking a small chunk out of the To Be Read pile of doom.

June:
The Demon's Lexicon - Sarah Rees Brennan
Spy Who Haunted Me - Simon Green
The Orphan's Tales: In the Night Garden - Catherynne Valente
Midnight Reign - Chris Marie Green
Dead Reign - T A Pratt
SGA: Reliquary - Martha Wells
Camp Hell - Jordan Castillo Price
SGA: Entanglement - Martha Wells
Dance of Death - Douglas Preston & Lincoln Child

Lots of quality entertainment in that list there! The Valente book is absolutely gorgeous, reminds me that a lot of us fantasy writers got our first fascination with story via fairy tales. Unfortunately, it also added the sequel to my TBR pile, which is so not the goal here.

July
Wicked Game - Jeri Smith-Ready
Street Magic - Caitlin Kittredge
City & the City - China Mieville
Mark of the Demon - Diana Rowland

City & the City blew me away. The first of Mieville's books to really make me happy. My publisher was kind enough to send me an ARC, but after reading it, I went out and bought my own shiny hardback copy. I have a strong feeling it's going to be The Holiday Book for all those I buy books for.

And I'm three books down for August already, so there's that. However, the TBR pile is still taking up more space than its designated shelf section, and given my pace of reading? I am a year and a half ahead of myself. Forget quitting my job to write full time, I'm going to have to quit my job to READ full time.

Also? Used bookstores are the DEVIL. I took some books back to the used store and found an entire shelf of the new edition Georgette Heyers. This does not help, let me tell you.

Currently reading: Julian Comstock. Still. Got sidetracked by other books that I could carry more easily with me.

favorite things
When I was growing up in Miami, I had two favorite snack foods: a Dutch chocolate treat called, I believe, Hagelslag--which consisted of sugary chocolate jimmies spread thickly over buttered bread--and galletas, a thick, dry, powdery textured cracker with a wonderfully buttery taste.

When I moved to the midwest, I found the hagelslag relatively easily. But the galletas were nowhere to be found.

Thing is, all spanish is not the same. Language changes, words mean different things in different parts of the globe. In the midwest, influenced by Mexican spanish, galletas mean "cookies". I spent a lot of years wandering into Mexican food markets, armed with inadequate cuban-influenced spanish, and asking for galletas, only to be shown the cookie aisle over and over and over again. Don't get me wrong, I love cookies, but they're not galletas.

Looking online produced much the same result. Cookie, cookie, cookie, cookie. I have never been so irritated with cookies. I can make my own damn cookies, but galletas?

Finally, just last week, I had a brainstorm, brought on by a killer migraine and a desperate desire for galletas to soothe my stomach, and plunked in galletas cubanas.

Lo and behold, the skies parted and the sun shone down upon the objects of my search. I ordered 3 packs online, from a store on Calle Ocho in Miami itself. The packaging hasn't even changed.

They arrived today. I have done nothing but munch on them and taste my childhood.

It's delicious.

Reading: Julian Comstock. Had a brief detour to read Mark of the Demon (It was small enough to fit in my purse.)

victorious hunter/gathering
Sometimes I love love love working down the street from our local Borders.

Today's haul (and yes, we are NOT TALKING about the giant TBR pile filling up my house: today's books were Must Haves) was Mark Del Franco's Skin Deep, and Kat Richardson's Vanished. That's half of my favorite urban fantasy quartet right there! And I hadn't even expected Vanished out yet!

Throw in a Locus where they say nice things about Kings & Assassins, a new 3pk of moleskine cahiers, and the lovely Borders staff who put up with my lunatic ramblings, and I'm a happy camper.

Other than that, I have it on good authority that KS is currently stealing Washington's weather: given that it's grey, rainy, and cool, I'm inclined to believe it. Sorry to all of you who are suffering on the northwest coast. I'm sure we'll give it back soon.

Also? Borders had TWILIGHT CANDY HEARTS with words like SPARKLE DAZZLE and LAMB on them. This is utterly wonderful in an utterly appalling fashion. I have a new goal in life. I want one book of mine to be so popular it gets candy hearts made for it. Of course, with the way my books go, the words would be things like: DEATH and FEATHERS and BLOOD and SWORDS but you know, I bet there's a market for doom&gloom candy. . . .

Proof! Ignore the extreme blurriness if you would be so kind. Cellphone cameras require a steadier hand than I can provide. (Another good reason not to become a vet! Can you imagine me with a scalpel?) But hey, I may have figured out how to insert images. Finally.

General stupidity
So when I got up this morning and went out to my car, I discovered it had been broken into. Broken into for a value of "I'm a dork who left her doors unlocked." Still, all and all, no harm no foul. I had very little worth taking. They got away with the loose change I keep in an empty tin. They did not take my parking permit. They did not take my car registration, though they did rummage through my glove compartment.

Besides the general worry--were they looking for a garage door opener? (We've had a rash of random burglaries in town that start with people opening cars, getting the garage door openers, opening the garage, getting into the houses. . . . That's never good. Luckily, for me, I never leave the garage door opener in my car, and I never leave the door between the garage and the house unlocked.)--there was a bigger worry percolating . . . .

I grew up in Miami. When did I stop locking my car doors? Why does anyone stop dealing with basic car security? Simple answer: when it becomes burdensome. When I started coming home with my double handfuls of stuff, making the act of locking the car--older car, no point and lock for me--a juggling act. I understand that. But that does leave me with the question again--I grew up in Miami. When did I start trying to get out of the car with all my attention on stuff, on bags, on things other than my surroundings? And more importantly, why didn't I stop that behavior?

It's very basic precaution. Park your car. Look around once or twice. Unlock the door. Exit the car, hands free, lock the door, proceed to your destination paying attention at all times to your surroundings. It's as straight-forward as locking the car once you're in it, of not leaving your purse on the passenger seat while you drive, of rolling up your windows if you come to a light.

And yet. . . .

So, while I don't know why/when I stopped practicing good car security, I'm going to take this as a lesson worth far more than the $5 I lost learning it. It's a difficult world out there. Sometimes it's good to be reminded of it.

Currently reading: The City & the City.

blogging elsewhere!

Originally published at LaneRobins.com. You can comment here or there.

Sia McKye was kind enough to allow me a platform to babble about my process in novel structuring! Go check it out and stay to read the rest of her site--she's got a lot of fascinating articles by other authors.

http://siamckye.blogspot.com/

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