Stacia Kane

We’re discussing queries this week here.

So, got back from London a few hours ago, had a great time. Went to Harrod’s, saw this tacky-ass statue of Diana ‘n’ Dodi and marvelled at how Mr. Al-Fayed managed to use his own face in most of the decorating. But we got some food there, and ate it in Speaker’s Corner, then headed for Selfridge’s, which was more fun than Harrod’s and had a small selection of American food. I now have enough canned pumpkin to get me through the holidays. And eggnog too! Yay!

Unfortunately, we’d dressed for cool weather and it was fairly warm. We were sweating, especially since the Tube was extremely crowded and it was sweltering down there. I took off my sweater and realized I was, well, a bit smelly from all the sweating. Eep!

So we had some time before the show we were going to started–The Woman in Black, which was pretty good–and hubs wanted to go to the Murder One bookstore on Charing Cross Road, so we did.

They have a romance room there. And in that romance room was an entire bookcase of Ellora’s Cave books–the only ones I’ve found stocked in the UK. YAY!!

A woman was shopping. A lovely and friendly woman. We laughed about the books. We chatted. I gave her my name. And–I still can’t believe this–I was so excited to have found the books, and to have met a nice person who actually thought it was neat that I wrote them, and so worried about being smelly or seeming pushy–I forgot to ask for her name. I gave her mine, and wrote it down for her, but I totally did not even ask for hers. How rude! I felt–and still feel AWFUL. I tried to go after her but she was already gone. It bothered me all through the play.

So, nice bookstore lady, if you’ve Googled me and found me, please email me or leave a comment! I’m so sorry!

I have an enormous blister on my pinkie toe from all the walking, but we had a great day, except for my awful stupid loserness.

I probably won’t post tomorrow, as I am seriously behind on my WIP and need to jam. So this is my Monday post. It’s just a little early.

We’re heading up to my MIL’s in a few hours and will be back on Sunday. While thanks to the magic of BlackBerry I’ll still get my emails, I probably won’t respond unless it’s fairly urgent, especially tomorrow when we’ll be in London.

So, I’ve been wanting to talk about this book for a looong time, and here it is. The Church of Dead Girls by Stephen Dobyns. I’ve mentioned it a few times, but now that fall is here I decided it’s time to blog about it.

I love this book. Seriously love it.

In the main it’s a fairly humdrum tale, really. A few girls go missing in a small Northeastern town. But the book itself is so much more than that. It’s about secrets, and how we never really know what’s happening in other people’s houses or in their heads. It’s about how quick we are to mistrust even people we consider friends. It’s about how little it takes to turn good people into bad ones.

It’s a slow book. After an absolutely knockout opening–one of the few books I’ve ever picked up in a store that completely hooked me with the very first sentence–we get a lot of stories that seem to go almost nowhere. It’s not boring or unecessary, though. Dobyns builds his universe carefully and draws us in, so by the time the first girl goes missing, about halfway through the book, we have a very good idea of where we are and what kind of place we’re in.

It’s not really a mystery in the pure sense. I figured out whodunit as soon as we met that particular character, and I think anyone with sharp eyes will see the clues Dobyns plants. It’s not really a thriller either. And it’s not horror.

But it is a very atmospheric tale of suspense. It’s a very, very spooky book, and genuinely spooky books are treasures when you find them.

Go read it (if you want to, of course), and tell me what you think.

And have a great weekend!

So, in a move stunning in its ignorance, Warner Brothers has decided not to make any more films with female leads. Specifically, apparently, superhero films with female leads.

You may have heard about this elsewhere–the article showed up on Newsarama Sunday night, and I’ve seen it mentioned in a few places since then, but I didn’t se eit until Monday night, so I’m blogging about it so there.

Now, on the one hand I see their point. WB took a nice big hit when the Catwoman movie bombed. Elektra didn’t do well either (and not without reason–the concept of the film was fairly kick-ass, but the film itself not great.)

I don’t think the decision is based on ignorance as in sexism, but ignorance as in, why don’t you assholes make some good movies with women in them, dumshits?

Take Catwoman (please). I would have been all over a good Catwoman film. I love Catwoman. When I heard they were making a Catwoman movie the hubs and I were both pretty excited. Then we heard Halle Berry had been cast. Well, that’s fine. We didn’t think she could play the sort of reckless bad-girl sexiness of Catwoman, but we’ve been wrong before.

Then we heard her name had been changed to Patience something. Um… (I should mention here that Princess’s middle name is Selina specifically because of Catwoman. So this was An Issue in our house.)

Then we saw the costume. That horrible, T&A, shredded THING. And our hopes for the film dropped into our feet and stayed there.

Now, let’s see. Did the movie bomb because it had a female lead, or did it bomb because it completely alientated fandom and pretty much women in general by turning one of our tough, kick-ass girls into shredded leather cheesecake? Because it had a stupid, pointless plot with holes the size of Hummers? Because it was badly acted? Because the dialogue was laughable?

I know what I think the answer is.

And the Elektra film was more of the same. Jennifer Garner, (who I actually really like) was not well cast as Elektra. Just not. The film was not great. It had a great concept, but somewhere between concept and execution things went badly awry.

And now, instead of saying, “Gee, we totally fucked around with the basic concepts of those characters when we changed them from books to films, maybe next time we should try sticking with it and see if that makes a difference”, they’re just giving up. Which means the Wonder Woman flm won’t be made, which I honestly don’t have as much interest in now that Joss Whedone’s not doing it but would have fricking camped out for tickets to see if Whedon was doing it.

Stuff like this really pisses me off. Why do all films with women in them have to be fatuous chick flicks? (And I do enjoy some chick flicks, but come on.) Why do they assume that’s all women will go see? Women, are we giving this impression of ourselves? Why don’t we try something else? Why don’t we give Warner’s the impression that since they don’t want to see us in front of their cameras, they won’t see us in front of their screens, either? Why don’t we raise a big stink online, and write letters?

No movies with female leads, indeed. Whatever, Warner Brothers. I hate you now.

Giving some writing tips today at the League of Reluctant Adults blog.

So I went to the grocery store this morning, as is my wont, because we needed stuff for dinner, and…I guess I don’t have to explain why I went to the grocery store, do I?

But I felt all clever as I made my purposeful way down the aisles (I dislike grocery shopping, so tend to push my cart in front of me like a weapon in a desperate attempt to get in and get out quickly). We’ve probably got enough toothpaste left for the rest of the week, but I thought, “I’m going to be on top of things today!” and bought more. I remembered to get myself more razor blades. I got more diapers even though we have about half a package left. I bought more juice mix for the girls. All in an attempt to be a Homemaker, someone who knows instinctually what’s happening in every little corner of her domain and is On Top Of It.

So, after grabbing some actual food, I headed to the self-service checkout aisle and rang myself up, scanned my bonus card, reached for my ATM card…

Oh, no.

I cleared out my pockets before I left the house and somehow the card came with the receipts. So I had to call the woman who supervises the self-service checkouts and explain it (of course, she’s not the woman I usually see in the morning). She was very nice about it but still. My favorite part was when she clucked and worried that my frozen foods might go bad in the ten minutes it would take me to get home, grab the card, and head back. Um…they’re french fries. I’m not worried.

But this is what happens when I try to be efficient. The world hits me with the dumb stick.

What else happened this weekend? Started a new book, excited about it. Did a few little edits on Demon Inside, which is now ready for those of you who volunteered to beta, so email me and let me know you’re ready too. It’s not perfect yet, but it’s ready for critical “does this make sense without having read the first book” eyes. Read “Heart-Shaped Box” by Joe Hill. Very, very good, but he does seem to suffer a little from his father’s “short sharp ending” syndrome. I still recommend it, though. Some scenes were extremely creepy.

And I guess that’s it. I need to start writing down my blog topic ideas again. My mind is like a seive these days.

I know it’s been a while since I did a New Year’s Resolution book. I have been buying and reading, I just haven’t gotten around to posting about them. But, to be perfectly honest, at the moment my brain is fried, and I couldn’t think of a blog post, and I have been wanting to post more about books I enjoy (I’m thinking I may do a once-a-month series on my favorite novels or something, at some point), so…here it is.

I grabbed this book at Borders in Bristol simply because it’s advertised as a Gothic novel, and I love gothics (gonna write one, too, when I’m done with my next UF.) Not only was it advertised as a gothic, but it includes witchcraft, alchemy, remote viewing, missing persons, and a big spooky mansion. Which made it a must-try for me.

The result? Pretty good. It wasn’t quite as scary as I would have liked, and I don’t think it really qualifies as a gothic. It’s more of a drama/mystery. (In a true gothic, there is a mystery from the past which somehow relates to or causes the mystery in the present, which puts the protagonist in some kind of danger.) While this does occur in this book, I felt the danger to the protagonist was largely his own fault–and it happened very late in the book.

While I’m still a little confused as to how the computer stuff in the book worked, I did enjoy it. Mostert is an excellent writer–a few sentences almost literally took my breath away. I never really came to like the MC but I was interested in him and that was enough.

But what really atracted me was the atmosphere. I didn’t get such a sense of creeping menace as I like, but it’s a very lush book, one you definitely want to curl up with somewhere soft on a rainy day. Not a great book, but definitely a good one.

So give it a try, if it interests you, and let me know what you think. You can buy it or read other reviews here.

And two more quick things. I have need–don’t ask why–of some recommendations for rap music. The kind about urban sprawl and guns and hos and stuff. Anyone?

I am having an absolutely miserable time trying to name my next heroine. I know all sorts of things about her and her story but she refuses to have a name. Which is odd for me because characters usually name themselves before I even know what they look like. Any suggestions? Any good name sites?

Faery woke up screaming at 3 am, I went back to bed around 3:15 after she went back to lseep, I couldn’t sleep, I got up and

FINISHED THE DEMON INSIDE!

First draft: 85,131 words. I imagine I’ve got another 1-2 more to add in edits because I know at least two minor plot holes I have to plug.

Oh, it’s done! It’s finally freaking done, after 10 weeks of work (not to mention several weeks of planning and false starts.)

Now I can start the next one.

So as I come up for air, on my last free day this week (because tomorrow is Faerie’s first day at nursery, and I will be holed up here on the couch finishing The Demon Inside, which I expect to have done by the time I go to bed Friday night pleasegods), I wander around the internets. (In between bouts of inspecting my daughters’ hair. She’s home again today for a final delousing.)

Everyone and their brothers are gearing up for NaNoWriMo, something I’ve never done or cared about, and actually think can be counterproductive (yes, Anton, I’m running with it). I mean, if you want to do it and enjoy it, that’s fine. But you shouldn’t need that kind of encouragement to write a book. You shouldn’t need bells and whistles and pistols firing at the starting line and constant vigilance to get your book done. You should have the discipline to do it no matter what month it is, and you should remember that NaNo? Not a prerequisite to writing. So many people seem to have it in their head that NaNo is some kind of official thing. It’s not. There’s no prize for the winner (No, don’t use “NaNo winner” on your queries). It’s just a website, just an idea some guy came up with. You don’t need to come up with the idea for your book in July and wait until November to start because that’s the time to write.

I’m just very uncomfortable with the idea of encouraging people to think certain conditions need to be in place before you can write, that it has to be a particular time of year or you need to chart your progress or whatever. You know what you need in order to write?

*an idea
*a writing implement

That’s it.

So don’t get the idea in your head that NaNo is the only time you can write a book, because that’s preposterous (see? I can use big words).

I don’t think NaNo is necessarily a bad program. But I don’t think it’s the be-all end-all either, and I think it can harm new writers. (Also, 50k words is not a novel.)

You know what else you need? A sense of your own story and what you want. I’ve been having some issues with this lately. You know that as a rule I don’t give writing advice. I certainly don’t think I’ve reached the level of skill and fame that means people would want to take my words to heart.

But you know what? There’s another reason I don’t give a lot of advice, and it’s this: Nobody can do it for you. Nobody can give you the secret of writing good characters or strong stories. Nobody can tell you how to make your story work. Nobody can tell you what story you should be writing (obviously, with some exceptions, because your editors can tell you whatever they want, but we’re talking about other writers.) Show up somewhere–a writer’s forum, an email loop, a blog, and start saying things like, “How do I make this character work?” or “How do I get people to want to read my book?” and expect that you’ll get an answer like, “Write it well.”

There is no magic bullet for writing. There’s no puzzle box or computer that will spit the words out in perfect order and create sympathetic, quirky, adorable characters who also do martial arts or whatever it is you want. That’s not going to happen. You have to do it yourself. And I’m tired of seeing people give that advice–or giving it myself–and getting pissy replies in return, like “But that doesn’t help me. I want to know HOW.”

The answer to that is the same as it is for every other writing question. Read a lot. Write a lot. Write the story you want to write. repeat quite a few times. Nobody is going to hand you the golden key, you need to work hard and find it yourself. So if you’re going to ask other people to basically do your work for you and then get pissy with them when they take time away from their own work to try and help you, bugger off and stop wasting both of our time.

Damn, I’m grumpy today, what’s up with that?

I’ve announced my winners for the Pimp the League contest on The LRA blog, and posted too!

Remember, if you didn’t win this time there will be PLENTY of other chances. PLENTY. Trust me.