Sunshine

Beautiful day today, like proper Spring, instead of bogus Spring -- cool temperatures, lots of sunlight. Pretty.

6100 words.

Stormy Weathers

The big storm appeared to have moved through the city last night. I slept through most of it, only woke up briefly during one of the bouts of thunder. There's still a lot of wind blasting through the city.

4000 words.

Writing, Inc.

Haven't written in the past few days, just doing the business end of writing, which is my least-favorite part, which is why I have written tons of things and have only sold a few of them. I've accumulated lots of intellectual capital, and need to put that to work for me, get it out in the marketplace, where it'll do me some good. I'm great with people, am creative and prolific, but I'll never be a businessman. Know thyself? I do.

That's why I'm hoping to find the right agent to shepherd me through the publishing business. The writing good fiction part I have down; I just need that right agent to click with me and nail the business end of things, to find the right homes for the books I've written. I'll be happy to write the stuff, if they'll be happy to sell it for me.

The irony for me is that "salesperson" is something that is often thrown my way as something I could do -- not from anybody who knows me, but reading about my personality type, and so on. I am good at communicating enthusiasm, to be sure, but the notion of selling people on things is anathema to me. In my view, if somebody wants something, they want it; trying to talk them around to buying something makes me feel icky. I hate when I'm in a store and a salesperson hovers around, asking if I need any help, or if they try to steer me to pricier products, etc. The entire interaction unsettles me -- I feel sorry for the salesperson, trying to make their commission; I feel annoyed at them for interposing themselves in my world -- it's just not my thing.

There are plenty of people who are good at it, who excel at marketing and self-promotion, but I'm simply not one of them. Appreciate the work I do, appreciate me, or move on; I'm not going to try to sell you on my merits. I try to shelve that when I work on queries, but it's difficult. I've yet to write a truly exemplary query. I have seen plenty of bad queries, and mine are far better than those, but I don't write high-concept fiction. My fiction rewards the reader when they read it, versus being some killer concept at the front end that can wow somebody from curbside. I don't put a lot of stock in high concept, because it's a gimmick -- to me, it's like those SyFy movies-for-cable like "Megaroid Versus Land Squid" or whatever -- the kind of thing where you might go "Huh" and peek at as a guilty pleasure, but is so many intellectual empty calories. I have plenty of ideas, write stories that are packed with ideas, but they are not high-concept stories. No "Snakes On a Plane" stuff (that being an archetypal high-concept movie).

I focus on writing well, writing beautifully (even if I'm writing horrible things, I pay such attention to the language, you have no idea), having memorable, believable characters, and writing an airtight plot that is very carefully composed. There are always plenty of ideas in my stories, salted through out it. There are no land squids, however.

I don't think I could come up with a high-concept story idea if I tried. And it would feel false to me, unnatural. It would be the fictional equivalent of the salesperson hovering at your elbow, walking on the balls of their feet, grinning eagerly, trying to steer you to something you didn't want. Not my game at all.

Just the same, I've been trying to be dutiful about the business aspects of things. I can't use an "eat your broccoli" idiom for this, because I love vegetables. Except for beets. Okay, it's like eating beets for me. *shudder* But I'm doing it, because I have to.

To Hell With Poverty

Great tune by Gang of Four, and well-performed, here. Gotta love those bass grooves. Their sonic attack was always papercut-sharp, which lent a cold, crisp, taut-n-fraught trebly tone to their music that was nicely juxtaposed by the incredibly fat bass lines they would always throw in their music. And I always loved their brilliant use of feedback. Nobody's ever hit it like they did...

Rain Song

Cold rain today. Yick. I don't mind cold, I don't mind rain -- but cold rain is yicky.

Otherwise, a good day. Cleaned up around the apartment.

April is here. Oh, my! I turn 41 later this month. Wowzers. My 40th year came and went pretty quickly, have to say.

Speaking of going quickly, the boys are really growing fast. They're taller than ever.
B1 (9 years) is 4'8" and 77.0 lbs. B2 (5 years) is 3'9" 44.2 lbs. They're more prone to wrestling around the apartment, which is amusing to watch, especially lil' B2 dogpiling his big brother. I try to referee, ensure that nobody ends up hurt. B1 is very good to his little brother, who is just a little badger, truly -- charming to the end, but also feisty, a born competitor like me. B1 is very lucky he's the big brother, because B2 would've been a holy terror as a big brother -- all pranks and mischief and such -- but because B2 is the younger sibling, it kind of balances the scales a bit.

Sunshine Superman

Lovely-sunny day. Still chilly, but overall, nice. I see that they're getting a wicked hard Nor'easter on the East Coast. Something for'em to whine about, no doubt. Snow more! I'd be great it they had another Nor'easter in time for Easter, then it could be the Easter Nor'easter.

I made toasted cheese for dinner. Nom!

Monique, Monique...

Oooh, Monique gets booted from ANTM! This week's episode had Blondes v. Brunettes, and I think the brunettes shot a better group shot, and I think Monique got axed unfairly, just because she was average in the judging, versus being actually bad -- she was beautiful, but never took either exceptionally good or bad photographs. Her "Heathers" attitude will be missed, of course, and her departure has to be a big boon to Alexandria. Brittani did wonderfully again, but the previews make it appear that she may have a bit of a meltdown next episode.

Sorry to see Monique go. Well, not completely sorry....

Mercurial

First picture of Mercury sent from the Mercury Messenger. Look at all of those craters! The big one at the top center is 50 miles across!

You Know What?

Sunny today. Still chilly, however. But the daylight keeps going. I've been relatively unproductive the past day or so. Just trying to get my feet under me, doing research.

Broke the 10,000 mark on hits on this blog yesterday. Not much of a milestone, in Net terms, but I usually axe blogs by around the 6000th hit mark, decided to keep this one going for fun.

I was thinking about Japan and their nuclear disaster woes. If you look at Japan's plate tectonics, it's scary to think how many nuclear plants they have over there. It's a geological powderkeg. I mean, just look at it...

They're going to have to do more than simply "earthquakeproof" buildings; going forward, the entire infrastructure of Japan is going to have to be adapted to the geological reality of that country.

Meanwhile, we're in our third war. Lordy. All we need is for North Korea to go after South Korea and we can have four. There was, certainly, a humanitarian crisis going on, there, but oil has surely greased the skids on our involvement, there. Thankfully, the "rational" Republicans are in charge in the House, which'll mean more dependence on fossil fuels, less conservation, ignoring climate science data, less oversight and regulation of the energy industry, running away from any alternative energy sources -- stupid is as stupid does. As ever, they're keen to bring 19th century solutions to 21st century problems, then they wonder why their notions don't work, or make the country ultimately weaker. *golf applause* I just wish Obama would show some backbone and stick it to them, rather than trying to work a "bipartisan" solution (in other words, caving to Republican intransigence).

Sucker Punched?

I don't know what to think about "Sucker Punch," the steampunk-influenced Zack Snyder action pastiche flick that's out. I remember seeing the trailer in the theater, and even before I knew it was Snyder directing, I could tell it was one of his movies -- he had a very distinctive visual style with his flicks. He's certainly an ambitious director, with a definite love of the kinetic opportunities inherently presented in movies, but I never feel like his movies are necessarily good. They're always highly stylized -- the women are always plasticine hotties, the guys are always marbled superhumans, the villains drip with noxious venom, and there's a lugubrious weight that hangs around it all, when everybody's not busy kicking ass in artfully rendered detail. There is an almost operatic intensity to Snyder's works that's not there with most other moviemakers. And just like how Wagner wears down my ear after too long a listen, there's something of that sensory overload with Snyder's movies, too, and that sense of unreality. As pure escapism, he's a good fit; but does that make for a good movie? I don't know. It's like the advertising wink and nod regarding Pop Tarts being "part of a nutritious breakfast" -- yeah, right.

Brrrr

Another chilly morning (28 degrees at the moment), although, as ever, the abode is warm. The cold just makes it harder to get outside.

This March really flew by; March often seems like such a long month, but this one went by pretty speedily.

Bacon Boys

Cooking some thick-cut bacon for the boys this morning. They love that.

They're hard at work creating their own marble run. I love when they play peacefully together. B1 is going to love physics. I sneak in concepts and ideas about it now and then. He already had an intuitive grasp of much of it.

It's sunny and lovely today, although cold, again.

10,000 words.

Howling

The wind keeps howling. I should be asleep, but I'm not ready to sleep, yet.

Exene dropped the boys off earlier today, as she apparently had a hair appointment. I was fine with that, since I always enjoy more time with the boys, and they always have a good time.

B1 and I were talking about reentry vehicles, comparing the classic American conical reentry vehicles to the Soviet-era Vostok spherical ones -- B1 astutely conjectured why the Soviets used spheres, and I explained to him the different approaches of the respective space programs. He loves that stuff. We watched "The Right Stuff" in the wake of that conversation, which is an enjoyable movie, hearkening to a truly bygone age in our society. Amazing, really -- once the space shuttles are grounded, that'll be it for our space program -- in the wake of the endless budget crunch debates, the lopsided tax policy, I can't imagine any programs being funded in the near future, barring some serious shift in national priorities. Like they say in the movie: "No bucks, no Buck Rogers." I remember reading "The Right Stuff," man, I must've been a teenager. It was so long ago. A good book. Tom Wolfe is a good writer, or was one, anyway. Manages a narrative agility bound to a journalistic style.

I'm working on the new SF book; again, momentarily shelved the "contemporary" story just because I wanted to dive right into the SF book sequel while everything was still fresh in my head.

I don't really like talking about my writing; I'm truly the type to write more, and talk about writing less. Plenty of blowhards like to talk about writing, how they could do it if they had the time, or that they have great ideas for stories, but the real truth of it is that they never get around to writing them, because it's hard work, entirely thankless. As I've told someone in the past, it's not called "great idea-having;" it's called "writing." A great idea for a story is not a story.

The same goes with any creative endeavor -- everybody thinks they can do it, but most of them can't. And of the few who actually do it, fewer still are any good at it, and of those few, even fewer are truly great. I think I'm a good writer, but I don't think I'm a great one. Time will tell, if I can ever get those necessary breaks to make it happen. I certainly don't cut myself any slack with my work; I'm easily my toughest critic, and always will be. I trust that instinct. I try to do my best, for what that's worth.