Stacia Kane

First, not only did Charlaine Harris give me such a great blurb for UNHOLY GHOSTS, she talked it up on her blog the other day:

“I was fortunate enough to get an ARC of Stacia Kane’s forthcoming Unholy Ghosts after I met her at DragonCon. Unfortunately, this novel won’t be out until May. You should put it on your calendars NOW. The world-building is unexpected and complex, the characters are alive, and the protagonist Chess is a treasure. I have a very hard time reading a book with an alcoholic or drug-addicted hero, and in fact I almost closed the book after the first chapter. I’m so glad I didn’t. The characters are complex and indelible, the plot is fascinating, and I can hardly wait for another book, months before this one will be out.”

Second, I got word this morning that Karen Marie Moning, awesome NYT Bestseller that she is, also read and loved all three books in the Dowside series, and said:

“Expect the unexpected. Kane delivers dark, sexy urban fantasy at its finest. I couldn’t put it down!”

Which is totally cool. And was a great way to start my day.

Which is the other thing I want to talk about.
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First, two really good things:

1. It seems the lovely Ms. Charlaine Harris’s love for Terrible doesn’t just stop there. yesterday morning my editor’s fantastic assistant Jessie emailed me this:

“Stacia Kane’s UNHOLY GHOSTS is one of the most interesting books I’ve read in months. Vivid characters and superior world-building combine with a wonderful sense of pace to create a gripping book. I was enthralled.” –Charlaine Harris

Woot! So I’m pretty excited.

2. I’m pretty sure everyone on the entire internet has already heard about this, because we’re all so happy for her, but did you see that Kaz Mahoney sold two YA novels to Flux? I got to read a bit of THE IRON WITCH (nyah nyah! I have the ms and you don’t!) and it is AWESOME. As is Kaz herself. So I couldn’t be more thrilled for her.

Now some random thoughts, including why we’ve been talking about self-publishing lately:
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First, I have some extremely exciting news, for me at least. My agent informed me a couple of weeks back that we’ve sold audio rights to the first three Downside books (Unholy Ghosts, Unholy Magic, and City of Ghosts) to Blackstone Audiobooks! They produce unabridged audiobooks in a variety of genres, and my mom was all excited because she has a bunch of their books–they also handle the Elizabeth Peters novels, among thousands of others, and I am squeeing all over the place at the idea that my books will actually be available in this format. I cannot WAIT to hear them. And yes, I giggle a little at the thought of hearing all the fuckwords and Downspeech, because I’m immature that way. But still, this is a huge deal for me and I’m totally excited.

Also, I have video of my reading of Chapter Two of UNHOLY GHOSTS at Dragon*Con; I’m trying to edit it down at the moment so you guys don’t have to sit through four minutes of me skimming the chapter and chitchatting before I get down to reading, and trying to separate the Q&A after into manageable chunks. Also, I’ll be getting videos of some of my panels soon, and will be working to edit those down as well. It will all be posted on the site as soon as possible.

So. The internet, particularly the romance community, is all a-flutter today with the news that Quartet Press has closed, without having released a single book. Reactions online have ranged from tearful to tackily, disgustingly, classlessly gleeful–although considering the source on that one I wouldn’t have expected anything else.
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So, I’m sad Dragoncon has ended. Not just because it was exciting and cool and I met some amazing people, but because the end of the show means Mark, Tiffany, and Synde will be leaving. I hardly got to hang with Richelle or Nicole at all, and they’re already gone.

So in my depression, I thought it might be fun to do a little shopping yesterday. I hadn’t had a chance to head down to the dealer rooms at all–I barely left the Hyatt, where all the dark fantasy stuff was taking place–and since I had no panels, and neither did my pals, I figured it would be a good time.

The dealer rooms were still busy and they’d marked down a lot of stuff; the better not to have to drive it all home, right? And a lot of it was pretty cool stuff, too. I was, being me, particularly interested in the corset sellers, since I love corsets and am always looking for new ones. I have four already and wore one on Sunday, so…a new corset from Dragoncon would have been pretty cool.

I didn’t see any I particularly liked in the first couple of booths–they were beautiful but nothing caught my eye–and when we got to the last and biggest booth, which was “Corsets by Casta Diva,” I was determined to find something I wanted.

I started skimming through the tags looking for 24s. I’d been at it only a minute or two when one of the women who worked there asked me if she could help me find something. We then proceeded to have this conversation:

Me: I’m just looking for 24s. Are they all grouped together, or–

Her: I don’t think you’re a 24.

Me (frowning): All my other corsets are 24s.

Now at this point, I feel as though I’m not only being told I’m fatter than I think I am, but that I am too stupid to know what size I wear or that I’m lying about my size. Not to mention it’s the last day of a con. I’m a little bloated. I haven’t slept more than a few hours since Wednesday night.

Her: Have you been measured?

Me: Not in–

Her: I need to measure you.

I didn’t feel the need to be measured, as I was measured when I moved from 26 to 24 by a very sweet lady at Fairy GothMother in London (where my other corsets came from). But her tone brooked no argument. She clearly expected me to obey or she would throw my fat ass out of the store. So I sigh and hold up my arms so she can measure me, thinking all the while that I don’t understand the need for this and I’m quite irritated by the whole thing. I don’t appreciate being told I don’t know what size I am. I don’t appreciate at all the implication that I’m lying about my size. And frankly, what the hell business is it of hers what size I buy?

So she measures me.

Her: That’s what I thought. You’re really a 25.

Me: …

Her (doubtfully): I guess if you insist on a 24, you can have one.

Me: Thank you.

And that’s when I turned and left. Oh, and informed my friends loudly that I didn’t need anyone else to be bitchy to me. Like that bitchy woman.

Which she was. What the fuck, man? I’m standing there telling you what size I am, and that all my other corsets are that size. But you still feel the need to measure me? And then to tell me that I’m wrong but you guess if I insist, you’ll condescend to give me the size I normally wear? I didn’t ask for your fucking help to begin with. I certainly didn’t ask you to measure me. I’ve been wearing corsets for several years now; trust me, I know how to wear them and what fucking size I am.

So there you go. “Corsets by Casta Diva” could have gotten some of my money, if they’d paid me the respect of assuming that as a regular corset-wearer I know what the fuck I’m doing, and hadn’t gone out of their way to Prove Me Wrong over an inch which is frankly due to con bloat, ladycycles (isn’t that a lovely little euphemism?), and drinking almost an entire bottle of Grey Goose–the big bottles–in three days.

It just ended things on a bit of a sour note. I was already sad that it was ending, and everyone was leaving. I didn’t need to be insulted and informed I was actually much fatter than I thought I was on top of it.

I’ll be back later to post a picture or two and to rant about something else, which had nothing really to do with me but which upset me quite a bit nonetheless.

On Friday I told you there were two good comments buried in the drivel. I lied. There were actually a few, and all of you guessed at least two. I would have accepted any of the following:

1.“he’s already smiling”
2. “You need to show us how pretty he is, don’t just tell us.”
3. “I’d consider mentioning these back when you describe her clothes, to add to the tension.”
4. “Are there two stakes or four?”

What’s important about this is learning to determine which comments are useful, and realizing that even in the midst of a terrible critique there may be one or two comments which actually will help. This is why you should step away from a critique that seems useless or lousy. Chances are it is, sure. Some people simply will not get you or what you’re doing. But some people may not understand what they’e supposed to be doing or how to do it, or may simply be unable to put their personal feelings aside, or have strange and rigid “this is the way we write our books” ideas about things. (I recently found a link to an article which insisted every scene in a book should be 750 words long. No more, no less. I believe this is the silliest “writing rule” I have ever heard.)

So, we’re doing the same exercise today, but this time I won’t tell you how many comments are good. List all you think work.

We’re starting “good crits” tomorrow, time allowing, and I have one more Bad Crit to do, too. I also planted a little clue in the beginning of this one, to remember this is a fragment and not an opening, and adjust your opinions of the comments accordingly.
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Once again, sorry I was so inattentive this week. Thanks for hanging in there.

Standard disclaimer: This is a Bad Crit, designed to show how NOT to critique. It is strictly a learning exercise and does not reflect my actual feelings on the piece being critiqued. Please do not take any comments in the following seriously.

Okay. In today’s Bad Crit I’m doing something sneaky. I’m slipping two GOOD comments in there. See if you can find them:

You gotta have the right bait when trolling for vampire. What does this mean? You shouldn’t start a book with something that doesn’t mean anything.

I wore all black leather: corset and pants stuffed into lace up knee boots. That sounds uncomfortable. You should mention her being uncomfortable. Otherwise it doesn’t feel REAL. My makeup was all Gothy, with dark smoky eyes and glossy blood red lips. I felt like a hooker clown on steroids. I didn’t even recognize myself in the mirror — a tiger among sheep, hunting undead wolves. Are there zombie wolves in this?

“Mmmm.” I rolled my last three M&Ms in my mouth, savoring that chocolately flavor. But have they melted? And why is she eating M&Ms anyway? Is she a candy addict? You should tell us that. Then the chocolate soured in my mouth as I spotted Valerie St. Clair. Valerie owned the club, among others, and was a notorious fang whore. “Valerie St. Clair” sounds like a porn name. Are you making fun of the reader? She was also President of the Vampire Defamation League in Dallas, and a first class vampire enabler. Unfortunately, she knew my by sight as a vampire hunter, though not my name. I think a woman who owns a bunch of bars and moonlights in porn would have found out her name by now. She has connections.

My heart began pounding. Why? Is she nervous or scared? Don’t make me guess these things. How about “My heart started pounding from fear.”? Valerie employed vamps and werewolves. Zombie werewolves? If she spotted me, I was toast. The vamps could mesmerize me, and force me to betray my friends. If she’s that weak-minded she shouldn’t be doing this job.

I stopped and glanced left. Ten feet over stood a tall, dark man. Well, that really narrows it down. He wore a blue shirt and black leather pants. Dane was the unofficial leader of Dallas’ small cabal of vampire hunters. Valerie was to my right, across the crowded dance floor.

Dane indicated a man, and nodded. How did he indicate? Did he point? Mime? Dhampirs had a knack for picking vampires out of a crowd. More out of curiosity than anything, I checked out the vampire.

He was a tall, man dressed in an red silk shirt. I noticed his smile looked predatory as he danced with two bleach blonde Goths. The girls watched his face with open-mouth awe. They looked entranced to me, but he looked pretty enough to mesmerize some women without vamp powers. You need to show us how pretty he is, don’t just tell us.

Past him was an open alcove. A place built into the club for vampires to take their prey. Don’t people notice them carting dead bodies out of the alcove? Also, where are the zombie wolves? We could take him out so fast, so easy. Valerie was still across the club, and slowly moving away from us. I nodded at Dane, and got the whole thing started.

The club was dark and tightly packed. The music was loud and rather disturbing. Little Goths and Gothettes frantically danced to it. I smiled and pretended to enjoy it as I slipped through the crowd towards the vamp. But more disturbing than the music was the vampire pheromones in the air, and they grew thicker as I closed on the vamp. Vampire pheromones? That is such a cliche.

Vampire pheromones were the most potent aphrodisiac known. I could defend against their hypnotic eyes, but not against pheromones. I haven’t mastered the fine art of not breathing yet. I bet a zombie werewolve would have had that down pat by now. So my libido reared its ugly head.

I stepped up behind the vampire and spoke into his ear. “They’re pretty, but I think you need a real woman.” How tall is he?

The vamp turned to regard me. I hid the fact I averted my eyes by looking the two Goth girls up and down. Up close, they looked mid-teens. How? What were they wearing? Way too young to be in the Black Rose, much less cavorting with the undead. The fact they didn’t protest my poaching attempt proved he mesmerized them.

The vamp was still trying to catch my eyes, so I turned my head and flipped my long, black hair back. Back where? My exposed throat drew his interest. His dark eyes locked on it as he licked his lips.

“Give me what I want, and you’ll get all you want, and more,” I said. What does she want? I don’t get what she’s implying here.

“I am Yves Picard.” His accent was French, thick and sexy as Hell. Is Hell really sexy? He took my hand and bent to kiss it. “What is your name, pretty lady?”

As he kissed my knuckles oh so lightly, I looked over and above him to find Dane and another of our group. Gabe stood next to the closest alcove, watching me with a playful smirk. So is Gabe another member of the group? The bastard was enjoying himself too much at my expense. Why is she in a group with bastards? They should be all good friends. The alcove’s curtains were open, so I nodded before returning my attention to Yves.

I must always tell the truth when speaking to a vampire. They can tell when mortals lie. Every time. How can they tell?

“My name is Sable. Sable Hart. Another porn name Pleased to meet you, Yves.”

Feeling safe, I looked him full in the face. Why does she feel safe? Most of the time vampires don’t bother enthralling their victims, if the victim was eager. Eagerness filled me, and I was aroused by the vamp pheromones. How? Explain her arousal. I sucked in a deep breath, filling my lungs with pheromones so my revulsion didn’t rear its ugly head. Why is she revolted?

Yves was aroused, too. He pumped pheromones out in his excitement. I felt my belly erupt with butterflies and my nipples stiffen and tingle. My mind went straight to thoughts of wild and wicked things I wanted to do with him. When our eyes met, he thrust his power into me. Heh heh heh I gasped and tensed, and then he released me.

Yves smiled, exposing his fangs. He seems awfully dumb to just agree to wander off with her. “A woman indeed. Shall we find a more private place to…speak?”

I nodded, and pointed at the empty alcove. I didn’t trust my voice yet.

He smiled he’s already smiling and placed his hand at the small of my back, and ushered me towards it. Dane I just realized his name is Dane, like a Great Dane. Is he the zombie werewolf? Is this clever foreshadowing? and Gabe were speaking near the alcove as we passed. I saw no indication they even noticed us.

I turned to face the vampire as he pulled the curtains closed. My partners couldn’t just charge in. I had to distract the vampire until they slipped in stealthily, and dispatched him. But Yves had other ideas.

The vamp pressed up close, grabbed my hair and yanked my head to one side. All I could see were his long, white fangs.

“Hey. Why so fast? We have this little thing here in Texas called foreplay. You should try it.”

“I feed, then we play.” He’s awfully demanding. She should walk right out of there.

Dane and Gabe couldn’t see what was happening. Immortals aren’t exactly pressed for time. Just my luck I seduced the hungriest vampire in Dallas. Is she sure about that?

With no choice, I dug up under my stiff, thick leather corset with both hands. Sucking in my belly for more room, I got hold of the two pieces of wood. The corset was thick enough to hide the four wooden stakes are there two or four? I’m confused underneath, each eight inches long, flat and thin. I’d consider mentioning these back when you describe her clothes, to add to the tension. I yanked out the stakes, startling Yves. He pushed away and looked down even as I thrust one up under his breastbone.

I missed the heart, of course.

“Ugh!” Yves reached for me. “Die!”

I kicked up and around, catching his reaching arm and blocking it aside. My kick caught his arm solidly enough to turn him aside. Girls can’t kick that hard Thrusting the other stake into my right hand, I spun around and drove it into his back and right through his heart. Girls aren’t that strong either That did the trick.

Yves dropped to his knees, and pitched face first to the floor. Dane, then Gabe, came in at that time. Some help they are, yeesh. I expected more from a zombie werewolf.

Seriously, y’all, I am so sorry about this. But my day has gotten so far away from me I don’t know if I’ll be able to get it back. We have some meetings and stuff at Princess’s school and I have to go to them, and I have literally hardly sat down all day.

Meanwhile, I’ve gotten some cool news about Dragon*Con, which I will share as soon as I have more details.

Really, I apologize. But I promise I’ll be here bright and early tomorrow, and we’re going to start the good crits next week, and you guys are EXCELLENT at identifying what’s wrong with the Bad Crits. It’s actually really fun to give such awful advice.

Yes, I forgot to blog yesterday. I’m sorry! We will resume the series on Thursday but I have some really exciting news I wanted to share right away.

Some of you know that we’d originally hoped for the Downside books to be released consecutively; that is, one per month for three straight months. Scheduling issues prevented it, however, and eventually forced the reschedule of UNHOLY MAGIC as well. Pretty par for the course as far as publishing goes, really; schedules often change.

Well. I received word this morning that thanks to some clever switching and moving by the fantastic people at Del Rey, we are now able to release the first three Downside books as we’d always wanted; three consecutive releases! This is really, really exciting for me; such releases are always exciting, I think, and I’m really thrilled to get one and have such a big deal made over my books.

However. There is a *slight* downside (heh heh) to this for you guys, and for me as well. The three consecutive slots which were available are in summer 2010.

I know this is disappointing for those of you who were really excited and eager to get your hands on UNHOLY GHOSTS, and I’m really sorry about that. But…UNHOLY MAGIC was slated for June 2010, and CITY OF GHOSTS for November 2010, so while this means you have to wait for the first book, it also means you won’t have to wait nearly as long for the second and third!

So I hope you guys are excited about that, and as excited as I am to have the Big Summer Releases.

I don’t have any information yet on how this effects the UK releases from Harper Voyager, but I will let you know as soon as I do.

And I have some other exciting news about the books, but I think that will wait until next week.

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This article originally appeared, in a slightly different form, over at Emily Veinglory’s EREC blog. Then last summer it was published in the September issue of Lady Jaided, the Ellora’s Cave online magazine. But it occurred to me this evening that I’m quite proud of this little piece, and it should be on my site. So here it is.
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…it’s my birthday. Which means it’s time for my annual Birthday Wish Delurking post.

It’s very simply. Because it’s my birthday, what I would really like is for those of you who don’t usually comment to comment today. Just say hi. Tell me how you found me, or why you keep reading. Tell me something about yourself. Tell me anything at all. I know I have a lot more people who read than who comment, so I’d love to know something about you.

So…please do!

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