Nerdgirl State of the Union Address

I like that blog title. Makes me sound all presidential and junk. Not like someone who almost lost a toenail tripping over a pile of shoes yesterday. Ah, gravity and my own messiness: trying to kill me since 1985. 

This image was found at this site.

So, I haven't posted recently. I have been reading a lot, I've simply been too lazy to review things as they come up. However, I am excited to report that I have recently discovered the magical world of comic books, so that's claimed a lot of my attention lately. Now, they're not wholly unfamiliar to me. When I was a kid, I did whatever my brother did because my brother was wicked cool, so I read comics because he read comics. In particular, I remember digging Spider-Man, Daredevil, and X-men. I also branched out into some Cloak and Dagger at some point, but I actually remember nothing about those comics other than the fact that I liked them.

Getting back into comics has been overwhelming, if enjoyable. I simply don't remember how they work. It reminds me of my frustration with Greek mythology and Arthurian legends when I was younger and more naive. I wanted there to be a RIGHT version of these stories, the accepted version. I'd still read the variations, I just wanted to know which one was more legitimate than the others. I have no idea why. I guess I crave canon in all things, perhaps to create order from the chaos that comes of stories being retold in a thousand different ways. But the truth of the matter is, in some things, like myths and legends, canon is hard to come by. You might find repeating themes, common characteristics, and recurring plot developments, but when something springs up from a largely oral tradition, that shit is gonna vary. Every teller wants to add a flourish, which is why we end up with fairy tales like this that just go on with the "and then this happened... and this happened..." until you have enough material for three fairy tales. People who swapped stories back in the day did NOT understand the notion of a sagging plot hat.

Comic books... aren't that different. I was immediately confused, coming into the comic realm, as to where I'm supposed to begin reading about any particular character. Some of them had recent reboots, like She-Hulk or Nightcrawler, so that made it simple. I just hopped onto those trains as they left the station. But then I read "Night of the Living Deadpool" and fell head over heels for the merc with the mouth. I ran to my Marvel app for more, and... and... I have too many options. *sits down in the corner and cries.*

This image was found on this site.

Deadpool has had so many runs and miniseries and teamups that I have no idea where to begin. It's like coming to a place in a trail that branches off in nine directions, with a sign next to each branch that says, "go this way." It's okay, though, I'm working on figuring it out. I suspect Deadpool's humor translates well without a lot of background knowledge, so I really just need to decide where I want to jump in. I have a similar issue with Dr. Strange, who seems to have quite a lengthy history, but I love him enough to figure it out. His backstory fascinates me and he seems like an intriguing character. Plus, I hear he's getting a movie.

What helped me to get hooked on comics initially without being overwhelmed by all the iterations of the stories was that I began my foray into comics by choosing two series that have one linear storyline to follow: Sandman and Fables. While I know Fables has a few spinoffs and Sandman seems to have some bonus stories, it's pretty easy to find and follow the main thread. I've only read volume one of Sandman so far, but I did enjoy it. The stories got a bit gruesome, but not enough to deter me, so I've ordered volume two. As to Fables, I made it up to volume 10 and stalled. Volumes 1-5 were solid, with volume 4 being one of the best things I've read. Then my ship started floundering in a weird way and my favorite powerful, independent female character got turned into Donna Reed, so I threw my hands up in the air. I don't think I'm done with the series, but I need a break to think about things. Hopefully, this doesn't turn into the pre-breakup timeout I took with "Castle" years ago... 

In any case, I've found this article, "How to Buy Comics: A Beginner's Guide," to be helpful as I traverse this new territory. It also certainly doesn't hurt that the two comic book stores I tend to frequent, the Book Shelf in Tallahassee and Superhero Beach in Jacksonville, are magnificent places where newbs are welcomed and the staff is friendly and helpful. I heart the Book Shelf in particular, not only for the long conversations and helpful hints I've gotten from the owner, but for the fact that it is filled to brimming with rooms of used books. Even as I feel overwhelmed by my newbness, wading into a sea of comic books, the mountains of books across the room feel like a life preserver.

This image originally pinned here.

Of course, I haven't been just reading comics these days. I also read Neil Gaiman's The Ocean at the End of the Lane, which was quite good, and I've been rereading Robin McKinley's Deerskin, albeit very slowly. Now, I say slowly because I used to reread Deerskin on a yearly basis, and it always tore me apart. I'd weep and snuffle through the pages, wanting to rescue the main character from her hardships, and then promptly smile and sigh and want to do it all over again. Now that I'm about 200 pages deep into my reread, I'm hitting some seriously heart-wrenching moments, so I've developed the habit of reading for a while and then stopping to feel all of the feelings. However, please don't think that this talk of weeping and being torn apart means that you should avoid this book. You should only avoid this book if you want to be deprived of the beauty of an exquisitely written and emotional fairy tale retelling that brings both mysticism and relatability to the old French yarn, Donkeyskin. So, you know, it's your life, if you want to do it wrong, I'm not going to judge you. 

This image found on this site.

I've also been writing, of course, because that's what I do. [1] I finished my novel, Ash, a while back, and I'm querying it. I also wrote several short stories that I've been shopping around. I've gotten three rejections so far on the short story front, with the jury still being out on two others, but at least one rejection actually turned out to be a positive development. One of my stories, "The Turning," had been bothering me. I felt like I had a cool setup, but maybe not enough of a "so what?" in the end. Sitting there, staring at the rejection in my inbox, I suddenly knew what the answer to the "so what?" was. It all clicked into place like some kind of magnificent Lego castle, and I could've hugged the editor who rejected me for giving me the kick in the pants I needed to think it through properly. So I put my nose to the grindstone to rework the ending. 

It was tough going for a while. I kept thinking, "Well, I was in a very specific mood when I wrote this beginning, and it's very dreamy. I'm not there anymore, so I'm afraid if I mess with it now, the tone will be inconsistent. I should wait to be in the right mood again." Then I read this blog post on "Not-Writing" by Patricia C. Wrede, which explains the difference between true writer's block and just plain not writing, and it hit me kinda like this: 

This image is also pinned here.

Ahem. So. No excuses. I kept on working. And in the end, I think my perseverance paid off. I finished the story and I'm pretty pleased with it, so it's off to the beta reader for feedback and then the final spit-shine. And in fixing that story, I actually figured out how to solve a plot problem in my novel, Beauty. So essentially, I'm walking on sunshine right now. Mind, I still have another story languishing in mid-process that I'm supposed to be working on right now instead of blogging. But given as this was how I felt the last time I attempted it-- 

This image is also pinned here.

-- I thought a little procrastination was in order. Besides, my blog was looking lonely and unloved. Something had to give. 

Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed the nattering, and will make good life choices and read Deerskin. Uh, also, if you have tips on how to dive into a comic book series with a long history, I am dying to have them. Until next time, gentle readers!

[1] Footnote: Does anyone else mentally finish the sentence, "that's what I do" with "it's what I live for, to help unfortunate merfolk like yourself"? No? Is it just me? Rats.

Book Review: The Riddle-Master Trilogy by Patricia McKilliip

"The Harp No Longer Sings" by Gold-Seven.

 You can check out the artist's work here.

I have a confession to make. I actually tried to read Patricia McKillip's Riddle-Master trilogy once before and failed. Despite the glorious things I had heard about the books, I got lost in a maze of odd names and confused about who was who, and I stopped reading about 20-some pages in due to an information overload. But I promised myself that I'd come back to it one day, because some of the things I'd been told about the books made them sound like a story that should not be missed. 

Buy your copy of this magnificent book here.

To say that I'm really glad that I did is an understatement. Once I learned to focus on the important things and allow the story to tell me which details were important, things went much more smoothly. All the place names and people that were mentioned slid off my mind like beads of water while I fixated on the main character, Morgon of Hed, his funny, brawling family, and his high-tempered friend, Prince Rood of An. And of course, once I realized that there was a romance in this book, I was hooked. (I'm a sucker like that.)

As the story unfolds, we learn that Morgon is the Prince of Hed, a tiny, inconsequential farming kingdom where very little happens of note. That is, until Morgon decides to challenge a ghost in the land of An to a riddle match. When his sister finds the crown he won under his bed, Morgon discovers that he's stirred up a hornet's nest by quietly winning a contest so many men have died trying their hand at. He also discovers that the crown was not the only prize for besting the ghost: King Mathom of An also promised his daughter, Princess Raederle, to whoever beat the ghost's riddle game. Raederele is the sister of Morgon's friend, Rood. Morgon has known and admired Raederle for some time, and he's quite smitten with her. With visions of a beautiful, amber-eyed redhead dancing in his mind, he sets out from Hed with the intention of coming forward with the crown and seeking Raederle's hand.

As much as Morgon would have been perfectly content to take his princess back to Hed and return to farming, making beer, and bickering with his siblings, the universe has other plans for him. No sooner does he leave his little island than do strange enemies come out of the woodwork, endangering not only Morgon, but those he loves best. In fighting and fleeing his foes, Morgon finds himself faced with a host of riddles even he can't answer that all seem to revolve around the mark of the three stars that has been on his face since birth. Those stars seem to mark him for a destiny that is larger than life, one set in place thousands of years before he was born. He must either give in to it or perish, even if embracing his destiny means giving up all of the things he holds most dear.

"Vesta" by Dusksong.

The original image is found here.

The journey Morgon undertakes makes this Patricia McKillip's most traditional fantasy novel yet, as it has the quest structure and some of the familiar high fantasy archetypes. However, what elevates it and makes it extraordinary is her rich, imaginative world, filled with golden horned vesta bounding through the snows, land-rulers who are bonded to their lands such that they share an empathy with the earth itself, and odd, beautiful magic, where even the gentlest harping may hold great power. Once I started traveling with Morgon into these other lands, I couldn't have put the book down if I'd tried. Each new place held such marvels that I couldn't wait to see where he went to next or who he would meet. There is no doubting after you read this book that Patricia McKillip's imagination is a national treasure.

The characters are another strong draw. Morgon, himself, is a sympathetic and flawed hero. He is not entirely willing to be sucked into the role of a legendary hero, but when duty calls, he has enough honor to step up. He's a kind, gentle man and a good brother, and relies on wit and intuition rather than pure brawn. And it also speaks well of him that he respects his lady love. Even though he has won the right to marry her by winning the riddle match, it is never Morgon's intention to show up and claim her like lottery winnings. No, Morgon's first through is to ask her if she would be willing to marry him, and then and only then will he take her back to Hed. 

"Pepper Breeze" by Artgem

Original image found here.

Raederle, herself, is absent from the first book, but takes on a very nontraditional role in the second book. And that's the other thing that is so spectacular about these books. This fair princess is not sitting somewhere knitting booties for her future offspring while the hero does all the work. Raederle is an active heroine in the story herself, a fiery, spirited, independent, strong-willed woman who knows what she wants and goes after it. After all, Morgon is not the only one with a destiny here!

I could go on about how beautifully McKillip handles Raederle's interactions with Morgon, keeping a legendary tone to the story, but also with a thread of realism and relatability, but I don't want to get too spoilery. Suffice it to say that this is not your typical fantasy story, though it's every bit as lovely and magical as you would hope it to be. 

Even without Morgon and Raederle earning gold stars for awesomeness, there's a whole host of supporting characters who shine in these books. Deth, the High One's harpist, is an intriguing riddle of a man who kept me on my toes throughout the books. King Har of Osterland, Danan Isig, Astrin Ymris, the Morgol, and Mathom of An also earned my respect and devotion in their time on the pages. I loved every one of them like they were old friends and anytime any of them had cause to grieve, I wanted to wade into the story and hug them. 

"Raederle" by CaithnardStudent

Original image found here.

And did I mention how beautifully McKillip writes? You've heard me wax on about this before, if you've read some of my other reviews about her books. Still, it cannot be said enough: this woman has a poet's soul and a novelist's mind. Her words glitter and glint on the page, filling your mind with gorgeous, dream-like images. When describing a character's impatience, we are told that she feels that "even the dead of An, their bones plaited with grass roots, must be drumming their fingers in their graves." And then you have passages like this, that make me want to hang up my keyboard and stop pretending like I can share the name "writer" with someone like McKillip:

In the end, as the pieces of the story came together, I could clearly see what McKillip had been building to from the beginning. Even the small patches where I doubted, thinking she was meandering a bit, snapped into focus as crucial moments that shaped the ending. In other books by this author, I've had to spend time mulling the rightness of the ending, wondering if the plot points truly lined up in the direction she had chosen. Usually, I come around to appreciate it, though I sometimes find myself wishing that things had played out a little differently here and there. This time, I didn't even have to think about it. I felt the rightness in the story, even though parts of it broke my heart.

Ultimately, these books will resonate in my memory as some of the best I've ever read. So, to put it mildly, I'd recommend them. To put it less mildly, why are you still sitting here reading this review? Quick, order your copy now! And then come back and tell me how much you loved it in the comments! :) 

The Slings and Arrows of Outrageous Literary Fortune

I've been rejected a lot in my 34 years of life, both in literary endeavors and personal ones. But since it's a lot less embarrassing, today's blog will focus on my literary rejections.

Just last year, I finally completed polishing and editing The Humble Abode, a fun and quirky fantasy novel I had been writing off and on for ten years. I spent a good deal of time painstakingly crafting my query materials with the assistance of my lovely and talented beta reader and, with my heart in my mouth, I launched my opus out into the world. 

Then I watched it get shot to ribbons in a 21-rejection salute. BOOM! Too light-hearted. BAM! Doesn't fit my list right now. POW! Form rejection letter. FIZZLE! An ominous lack of reply than can only be construed as a rejection.

I tried sending it EVERYWHERE. I sent it to several small publishers and just about every likely literary agent who represented fantasy and did not operate on a street corner with a sign reading "will agent for food." Nothing. No one wanted it. I got some kind words in response from agents who took the time to tell me that they liked my writing and my characters, even if they didn't feel like it was a good fit for them, but all in all, I walked away empty-handed.

I could have done a lot of things in response to this utter failure of my greatest dream in life since I was eight years old. I could've been childish. I could've replied to rejection letters with this gif:

But I didn't. Because, maturity. Because, professionalism. But mostly because I know "not now" actually may mean, "not right now."

As well we all know, the published market is ever-changing. It trends in one direction, then corrects and goes in another as people start to get burned out on carbon copies of the same old thing. For a while now, we've all seen the thousands of YA novels about brooding but sexy vampires, Hunger Games-esque dystopian works, and the many dubious Fifty Shades of Grey fan fiction stories being published as works in their own right. And now we begin to see the backlash against some of these trends. I see a lot of agents saying things like, "Don't send me anymore paranormal romance. The market is crammed, so unless it's awesome, I can't sell it." I'm also reading that folks are getting tired of first-person YA meant to emulate the Hunger Games. And I don't know if people are getting tired of the Fifty Shades of Grey fan fiction being treated as legitimate creative works, but I am, so you know, fingers crossed.

Ultimately, it's a numbers game and a waiting game. You have to hold onto hope and keep trying, or you won't even have the possibility of something good happening, right? 

Maybe someday, quirky madcap fantasy will be in vogue, and when that day comes, I'll be ready and waiting with The Humble Abode in my hands. And in the meantime, I'm gonna keep on keeping on. Right now, I’m polishing up my query materials for yet another novel, a post-apocalyptic fairy tale called Ash. I've also got another novel in progress and I’m continuing to write short stories. I've even submitted two to paying markets to try and get my name out there. (I've gotten one rejection out of that so far, but bygones. The venue with the longer response time is the one I sent my absolute best story to, so I have high hopes!) I'm going to keep tapping the keys, rattling my solitary writer's cage to try to get people to notice what I'm doing, and dreaming of the day it all works out. Because it can happen, but only if I'm trying. What matters is that I don't give up.

And my day of triumph comes someday, as I just know it will, I imagine it will look something like this: 

A clip from the episode "The Excelsior Acquisition" of "The Big Bang Theory"

Book Review: Song for the Basilisk by Patricia McKillip

Buy the book here.

So I just finished reading Song for the Basilisk, and once again, Patricia McKillip blew me away with her mastery of the English language. Her words wove a beautiful dream from which I never wanted to wake, even when that dream turned unnerving or heartbreaking in places.

The plot follows a young boy who is rescued from the ashes of a fireplace after witnessing a tragedy and spirited away to a rocky island to hide among the bards. He's given a new name, Rook Caladrius, and taught to forget the life he left behind. But though he's happy to hide from his past in the bards' school, the music sometimes rouses painful memories of fire and sorrow. When the danger he left behind begins to close in on him, Rook will have to face his past or perish.

This story starts with a bang, with a beautifully macabre and tragic scene unfurling that thrills and horrifies at the same time. From there, there is romance, music, magic, and adventure. What more could a reader ask for?

I will admit, I'm still mulling the ending. It was satisfying, but I can't decide if I didn't see it coming because it wasn't built to smoothly or because I just wasn't paying close enough attention. Either way, I'm still delighted to have read this book and chances are, I'll reread it again and find that I'm wholly on board with it. That's usually where I end up with McKillip's trickier endings. Regardless, I would recommend it to anyone who loves beautifully written, richly imagined fantasy novels.

Book Review: Wool by Hugh Howey

Get your copy here.

I had many reservations about reading this book. I'm not a huge fan of science fiction as a genre because it has a tendency to be painfully bleak. I read to escape the bleakness of reality, and when it resurfaces in my fiction, it better be freaking awesome or I'm jumping ship.

So when I started reading this book, I was instantly wary. The plot centers around a population of people driven to live in an underground silo by a disaster that has rendered the surface uninhabitable. Now it is forbidden to speak about the outside world. The punishment for expressing a wish to go outside is to get exactly what you asked for: they send you outside in a suit that will enable you to live just long enough to clean the camera sensors that let the silo see the world's surface. Then the toxic air eats away your suit and your flesh, and the oxygen runs out, and you become just another corpse decorating the silo's view of the surface. These executions are called "cleanings." 

Original image found here. 

After being introduced to the silo's preferred manner of justice and the tragedy unfolding in the first few pages of the book, I almost put it down and went on with my life. Maybe this genre just isn't for me, I thought. But I hate giving up on anything, so I decided to press on, to give it a little longer to prove to me that the brilliance of the writing was worth the gentle well of depression building up in the back of my mind. 

And in the next point-of-view section, I was utterly hooked. Even as the plot went trouncing along my feels in lead boots for a second time, I was too engrossed by the elaborate world of the silo to even think about giving up on the book. And then I met Juliette, and subsequently her star-gazing friend, Lukas, and I was at its mercy.

The world Howey creates is incredibly rich and imaginative, the details making it resonate with authenticity. For instance, in the silo, people who are apprentices learning a trade are called "shadows" and those who teach them are called "casters." When you train apprentices, it's called "casting shadows." The different levels are all engaged in varying trades, from the mechanics of the down deep to the farmers on the hydroponic farms all the way to the IT level with its mysterious hum of servers doing God only knows what. And up and down the winding staircase that conveys the inhabitants from one level to the next, porters run on strong legs to deliver goods and messages. 

The characters I met in the first half of the book captured my imagination and made me love them. Holston, Marnes, Jahns... I felt like I knew them, and I cared deeply about what happened to them. And Juliette, a mechanic from the down deep, was a triumph, in my mind. It's always refreshing to see a pretty female character who doesn't exist just to be a male character's eye candy. She was strong-willed and smart without being grating, and self-sufficient and independent without being too in-your-face feminist. In short, she was exactly the way I like my female characters, and so few authors do that type justice.

However, this review ends with four stars rather than five because, after a promising start and an engrossing middle, it was all I could do to make it through the end. Too many fatalities among the more interesting characters, with the plot then scattering survivors and taking away their more intriguing interactions. The relationship I was most interested in seemed like it was only being developed off-camera, which was incredibly frustrating, because I'd been dying to watch it grow and I never really got the chance to. The struggle became monotonous, and I ultimately ended up skimming to the end to see what happened.

Still, I stand by my four stars. If you look through my reviews, you'll see I tend to be stingy with my stars, and usually a so-so ending would leave me thinking that three stars is generous enough. But because the characters were so wonderfully developed, the world was so incredible, and the book captivated me for over 300 pages, it definitely deserves four stars. And I would still highly recommend it to anyone who enjoys the genre, or even to skeptics who, like me, don't normally think sci-fi is for them. Judging from all of the five-star reviews and Howey's enormous success, it may be that I am one of the few who was troubled by the ending, whereas you might think it was utterly fantastic. And regardless of how you feel about the final destination here, the journey is definitely worthwhile.

Conversations with Fictional Characters

Sipping my coffee, I spent the morning studying the scene that rambled out from my fingertips last night at 1:00 a.m. It wasn't as bad as I'd expected to be, given the hour and the fact that I was hastily thumbing it out on a smartphone so I didn't have to get out of bed. When I got to the final flourish of my male MC's thinly veiled unkindness towards my fictional princess, the following exchange played out in my head.

PRINCESS: "Why do we find it so hot when he's mean?"

ME: "I don't know. Clearly, we have issues."

PRINCESS: (rationally) "Well, my issues are your issues. So really, this is your fault."

ME: "I know. I spend a lot of time worrying that these books are going to be used someday as the basis for the wrong kind of class."

PRINCESS: (raises eyebrow inquiringly.)

ME: "Psych 101, not Literature."

PRINCESS: "Yeah, you probably should be."

Original image found here.

Writing Tip: Beware of Saggy Hats

As a child, my favorite book was “Go, Dog, Go,” by P.D. Eastman. The reveal in which the poodle appears in his spectacularly tall hat decked with spiders and pin wheels and all manner of random and fabulous things will live in my memory as a great moment in literature. 

And yet, when it comes to plots, sometimes adding that many flourishes makes the fabulous hat sag. When you get enamored with your own twists, or start piling on subplots with reckless abandon, or it requires half the book just to explain why a character would do what you want them to do, suddenly, you’re not a poodle that has won over a dubious Labrador with your amazing sense of style. You’re just a dork in a bent hat with a bunch of crap stuck to it.

Don’t make the hat sag.