Archive for the ‘Writing’ Category
2011: My Year in Review (the Good, the Bad, and the Incredibly Sad)
Everyone’s doing a “2011 Year in Review” column; at some places, like Shiny Book Review, this makes more sense (there, we did a “best of 2011” piece; check it out here). So I thought I’d do one, too, incorporating most of what went on that’s fit to print that made any sort of impact on my life whatsoever.
Note that as Shiny Book Review has already been covered, I’m not going to say much about it here; I enjoyed posting reviews in 2011, and I will continue to do the same in 2012.
As far as fiction writing goes, I estimate that I wrote about 150,000 words on various projects. I completed a new chapter and a half of CHANGING FACES; this will be finished in 2012. I wrote a new chapter and revised five chapters of KEISHA’S VOW, an ELFY prequel set in 1954. I wrote a new chapter and a half and revised six chapters of AN ELFY ABROAD, the direct sequel to ELFY. I did my best to find an agent, but found no takers.
As far as editing goes, I was pleased to edit six different books — one on conventions and careers, four medical books (including one anthology), and one science fiction novel. More editing is planned for the New Year.
Now, let’s get to the month-by-month breakdown of other events.
January 2011:
New Republican Governor Scott Walker takes office, turns down federal railroad funds (following through on his election promise to do so), vows to work with everyone, etc. (Too bad that last was all talk.)
“Joey Maverick: On Westmount Station” published at e-Quill Publishing (with Michael B. Caffrey). This is the first piece of writing in Michael’s universe sold in over five years; I wrote over half of this story, but it continues to go under Michael’s name as an editorial decision by e-Quill’s publisher as it’s a continuing series. (I’m sure Michael wouldn’t have approved, but there’s nothing to be done. My name is on it as the secondary writer and there’s a permanent link to this story on this blog’s sidebar.)
Green Bay Packers blow through post-season, winning the National Football Conference championship. Will represent NFC in the Super Bowl.
January 8: United States Representative Gabrielle Giffords (D-AZ) shot in the head by crazed gunman; she miraculously survives and recovers. Several staff-members and innocent bystanders killed, including U.S. District Judge John Roll. Gunman in police custody.
February 2011:
February 6: Packers win Super Bowl XLV.
February 11: Scott Walker vows to eliminate collective bargaining for all public employee unions (including teachers, nurses, and snowplow drivers, among others) except for fire and police personnel. A firestorm of protest follows; the fourteen Democratic state Senators (“Wisconsin 14”) flee the state in order to deny the Legislature a quorum to keep the Republican-dominated Senate from passing a companion bill to the quickly-passed bill from the Republican-dominated Assembly. The “WI 14” state their reason for doing this as the only way to educate the public as to what this bill will do to the state; more protests ensue.
March 2011:
Gov. Walker and his allies, including Lieutenant Governor Rebecca Kleefisch, Senate Majority Leader Scott Fitzgerald (R-Juneau) and Assembly Speaker Jeff Fitzgerald (R-Horicon, brother of Scott F.), take to the airwaves urging the WI 14 to return to Wisconsin so Senate Bill 10 (eliminating collective bargaining for all public employee unions, even though the teachers, nurses, etc., have all vowed publicly to take paycuts and give back vacation days and pay more for their health and life insurance providing collective bargaining is left in place) can be passed.
March 9: Senate strips all financial provisions out of the bill, allowing it to be passed without a quorum. Only Dale Schultz (R-Richland Center) opposes this bill, saying it goes too far; the Senate passes this motion 18-1.
March 12: WI 14 returns to state to loud acclaim from most; some vow to recall their sitting state Senators from both parties.
April 2011:
Milwaukee Brewers start their season.
Vinny Rottino starts season with New Orleans Zephyrs of the Pacific Coast League (affiliated with the Florida Marlins, prior to the Marlins’ name change).
JoAnne Kloppenburg loses state Supreme Court race to incumbent David Prosser by less than 1/2 of 1% of the vote. Recount commences.
April 21: Recall petitions filed for nine Senators, six Republicans and three Democrats. Elections scheduled for three different days; the first is held in mid-July.
May 2011:
Rottino has a fantastic month for the Zephyrs.
Brewers are still rounding into form.
Looking forward to recall elections.
Receive praise but no sales for three separate pieces of writing.
May 1: Osama bin Laden killed, at long last.
May 23: Recount confirms David Prosser as winner of state Supreme Court seat. JoAnne Kloppenburg decides not to sue; eventually seeks seat on state’s Appellate Court.
June 2011:
Observe my ninth wedding anniversary, the seventh spent alone since Michael’s untimely death in 2004.
Waiting avidly for recall elections.
July 2011:
Ryan Braun, Prince Fielder, and Rickie Weeks elected to represent the Brewers at the All-Star Game. Braun is on the disabled list; does not play. Minor controversy ensues as closer John Axford, having an excellent season, is not named to the All-Star team, nor is Brewers ace Yovani Gallardo.
Observe my late husband’s birthday even though, were he alive, he’d have taken no notice of the event. (Michael counted unBirthdays instead, as there were a whole lot more of them, thus more to celebrate.)
Vinny Rottino makes the AAA All-Star team for the first time since 2008.
July 19: Dave Hansen (D-Green Bay) is easily retained in his recall election.
July 31: Debt-ceiling crisis legislation is signed by President Obama. Speaker of the House John Boehner (R-OH) claims victory. Most people unimpressed; Congress’s approval rating falls to new lows, and the President’s approval rating takes a hit, too.
August 2011:
Observe my birthday, though my best friend Jeff is many states away and my husband is long dead, so I wonder what the point is.
August 9: Two Republican state Senators, Dan Kapanke (La Crosse) and Randy Hopper (Fond du Lac) are ousted in recall elections. Another four Republican state Senators, Alberta Darling (River Hills), Robert Cowles (Green Bay), Sheila Harsdorf (River Falls) and Luther Olsen (Ripon) are retained.
August 16: Both Democratic Senators up for recall, Bob Wirch of Kenosha and Jim Holperin of Conover, are easily retained. Status of nine recalls: Two Rs lost their seats, while four Rs were retained. All three Ds were retained. Wisconsin state Senate stands at 17 Rs and 16 Ds.
September 2011:
Vinny Rottino’s fine AAA season is rewarded by a September call-up from the Florida Marlins. He plays in several games, mostly as a pinch hitter or in the outfield. Gets a few hits.
Occupy Wall Street (soon to be Occupy Everywhere) movement starts.
Tenth anniversary of 9/11/01.
Observed the seventh anniversary of Michael’s last day of life on 9/21/11.
Late September: Jeff falls ill but does not go to the doctor.
September 28: Milwaukee Brewers win first National League Central division title in history, make post-season play for first time since 2008. Hopes are high. John Axford sets single-season saves record with 46 and most saves successfully converted in a row with 42.
October 2011:
October 7: Brewers win first post-season series against Arizona Diamondbacks (3-2).
mid-October: Jeff is taken to the hospital and is quickly transferred to the best specialty hospital in Northern Colorado. Bacterial endocarditis is the diagnosis. I don’t find out about it until he’s been in the hospital seven days (fortunately he told a good friend there how to get a hold of me). He nearly dies on the table due to open-heart surgery, something I don’t find out until nearly two days afterward. He’s unable to talk for nearly two weeks and is mostly unresponsive to stimuli. Death seems near.
October 16: Brewers lose National League Championship series to eventual World Series champs St. Louis Cardinals; I’m more obsessed with Jeff’s condition and say so.
October 20: Moammar Qaddafi, dictator of Libya, killed. This, too, barely registers.
November 2011:
Jeff slowly starts to get better, regaining his powers of speech and mobility. Cannot read well, which vexes him as a longtime, avid reader — and cannot write or create, which vexes him as a writer. He improves so much he’s transferred to a long-term rehabiliation place (I talk with him every night he’s able, which basically is every single night).
However, Jeff only lives for four days after he’s transferred to rehab; in our last conversation on November 11, he tells me he’s exhausted and wondering when he’s going to get better, though he’s mostly upbeat. Inwardly, I cheer that he has enough energy to mildly complain; I look forward to our next phone call, which was to be on November 12 at 7:45 p.m MST.
November 12: At 7 p.m. MST, Jeff has a massive stroke and is taken back to the specialty hospital. I don’t find out about this until November 13; all I know at the time is that Jeff hasn’t answered his phone, and I’m not able to get anyone at the rehab place to find out why.
November 13: Get call from Jeff’s brother, Randy; Jeff is dead. The stroke killed him. His parents were with him when he died.
None of this comforts me at all, as I’d been hoping somehow to get out to him to visit and cheer him up.
His death, which a few weeks ago had seemed imminent, now seems like an extremely bad joke made by an unloving, uncaring Deity; Jeff had worked so hard to regain his speech and mobility, and could reason and think. His personality and most of his memories were intact. He deserved a lot more time, to fully recover, and for him and I to be able to see each other, bare minimum. To say that I find this monstrously unfair is a severe understatement.
November 15: Wrote a poem for Jeff, in memoriam. I hope he’d have enjoyed it (poem is below).
November 21: Jeff would’ve turned 48 today, had he lived. Instead, his memorial service is called in Fort Collins, Colorado, and I’m unable to go due to financial considerations (I will regret this to the end of my life, and probably afterward).
I start to slowly come to terms with the fact that the best friend I’ve ever had, save only my late husband Michael, is dead. (Jeff was my staunchest supporter as a writer and poet who gave well-thought out, helpful criticism.) I find out that Jeff was writing a novel, which he’d never shown me (though he had shown me six in-progress short stories, various pieces of non-fiction, and other writing, all of it excellent), at the time of his passing. Now, none of his writing will ever be completed.
I reflect upon Jeff’s compassion, which was probably his strongest and best quality besides his high intelligence and creativity. I reflect upon the fact that six years ago, I had no idea our friendship would grow to the point that he was my acknowledged best friend . . . who knows where it would’ve gone, had he lived? (Now, I will never know, and that’s a sadness I can’t even begin to express, were I to write from now until the end of time.) I’m grateful for the time I had with him, but I really wish there had been more of it because if anyone deserved more, it was Jeff.
I wonder, again, what the point is, when I can’t even get to see my best friend before he dies, then can’t get to his funeral, either, when I dearly wanted to do both things. (Financial considerations be damned.)
Other stuff:
November 15: Recall petitions to oust Gov. Scott Walker, Lt. Gov. Kleefisch, and Racine’s state Senator Van Wanggaard (all Rs) are filed. I’d been looking forward to this for months, but due to Jeff’s death, it barely registers. Did sign the recall forms and get a few signatures, as Jeff was very strongly in favor of all of these people being recalled (we talked of this on November 11, and he’s the one who brought it up — as I said, his mind was intact and it was sharp); I tell myself that he’d be happy I was doing something I’d looked forward to, and try to be content with that even though I know I’ll never hear his voice again.
Ryan Braun wins NL Most Valuable Player award. Prince Fielder departs in free agency (is currently unsigned).
Vinny Rottino signs a minor league free-agent contract with the New York Mets; he will be invited to Spring Training.
December 2011:
December 13: Play first concert in thirteen years as a member of the University of Wisconsin-Parkside Community Band; I play a lengthy, extended solo in Valerie Coleman’s composition, “Roma.” My sister is in the audience, and says I haven’t lost a thing. (I like to think that both Michael and Jeff were listening, too, from wherever they are in the positive afterlife. I hope they were pleased.)
mid-December: Ryan Braun accused of taking performance-enhancing drugs; he appeals this decision and proclaims his innocence. (For the record, I believe him.)
December 17: North Korean leader Kim Jong-Il dies.
Just before Christmas: Federal government plunges into yet another crisis when House of Representatives initially refuses to extend the payroll tax cut. Speaker Boehner adamantly defends his party, which includes many hard-right Rs self-identifying as “Tea Party” members, but is eventually talked around due to public statements made by Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell (R-KY), former George W. Bush advisor Karl Rove, and a strongly-worded Wall Street Journal editorial advising him to just give in already. Congress adjourns and goes home for the holidays.
Winter holidays commence; once again, I wonder what the point is. The present I’d bought for my friend Jeff gathers dust as I can’t bear to put it away, nor can I part with it; the musical composition I’m working on to commemorate Jeff’s life and death is, at best, half-finished at 64 bars. I’m told by a couple of poets I respect that my poem for Jeff won’t stand alone, thus has no chance of independent publication — which is why it’s here, so you all can read it and think about it, instead.
Note that this is a very formal way of writing, which is quite different from my usual, free-form style. I wanted to impose some sort of structure on my shock, which is why I came up with this particular poem. And while I believe this is among the most important pieces of writing I’ve ever created, it’s something I profoundly wish I’d not have had to do — much less this soon.
Here goes . . . but before I forget, Happy New Year, everyone.
*********** POETRY SEPARATOR ***********
“A Poem for Jeff Wilson — in Memoriam”
by Barb Caffrey
One who seeks is
one who asks
the questions that
no one else dares.
One who seeks is
one who finds
the answers, which are
unknowable.
One who waits is
one who looks
for love, creeping
in unawares . . . .
One who waits is
one who hopes
for light, which breaks
the dark forever.
One who waits is
one who seeks
out answers, or
merely himself.
——– written November 15, 2011
Powerball Execs Stupidly Raise Price to $2 per Line — Hello, Bad Economy, Anyone?
Remember how I said a few days ago that I was having trouble coming up with meaningful blog subjects?
Well, forget that, because today’s blog subject is so easy I’m surprised no one else has taken a whack at it.
Put succinctly: who came up with the idea that Powerball should cost $2 per line rather than $1 in this terrible economy? And why hasn’t that person been fired by now due to this atrocious idea, rather than Powerball being about to institute their new $2-per-line “fee schedule” on January 15, 2012?
As of that date, Powerball will raise its opening jackpot to $40 million (meaning you can never win less than this if you take the multi-year option prize) and will guarantee that you’ll win $1,000,000 if you match five of five numbers (rather than the current $200,000). And they’re touting that the “overall odds” to win a prize will be better — I don’t see it, but whatever — which must be the reasoning they used.
But that is not enough to justify raising the price from $1 to $2 per line, especially as the popular “multiplier” feature is not included — it’s still separate. So if you want to “multiply” your prize, you’ll now have to pay $3 per line rather than $2. While this isn’t as big a jump — because the multiplier feature has remained the same at $1 per line — this is still a jump and most people won’t bother.
Now, as to the reality of why people play Powerball and other lottery games of chance? It’s because we all want to hope for better, and Powerball plays off that in its advertising. The typical Powerball ad says, “With one dollar, you can buy a ticket — and a dream.” And that’s pretty much what you’re buying with regards to Powerball, as the overall odds aren’t that great (view current odds here).
Anyone with half a brain knows that playing the lottery is a fool’s game. You’re better off, really, to bury your dollar in the backyard than you are to play the lottery, yet many people — including myself — do play the lottery mostly because they want to dream about something better. And hey, there’s lots of ways to waste a dollar — so why not?
But when you’re talking about putting $2 down for each ticket rather than only $1, things change. Suddenly, you’re having to pay double the amount of money and that doesn’t seem reasonable — especially as the economy remains awful in many parts of the country, including my own Wisconsin.
Which is why this is such a stupid idea that I really don’t understand why anyone would want to roll this out just past the New Year, especially considering how many people are struggling just to pay for the basics, much less optional luxuries like a lottery ticket.
Here’s what’s likely to happen with regards to Powerball as of 1/15/2012; sales will plummet. Those who have a dollar and a dream will play MegaMillions instead (which draws on Tuesdays and Fridays in many states and has kept its price, sensibly, at $1 per line), or will play their own state’s lottery, or will maybe just save it and bury it in the backyard.
And the reason Powerball sales will plummet is this: the economy is bad. It is brutal. And in the Midwest, where money is at a premium, lottery sales have already gone down — so why do the Powerball execs want to make it even worse?
So if I can see this new “fee schedule” as a non-starter as a regular lottery player who’s spent more than her share of cash on the Powerball over the years, why can’t the Powerball execs?
Oh, yeah. They must not have been hit by the horrible economy, so they actually think there’s enough money out there to do something like this.
I have news for you, Powerball execs: think again. Or watch your business go south. Way south.
In Praise of Dogs and Cats (Friends, all)
As we’re in the winter doldrums now — caught between two holidays, where everything seems both surreal and pointless — it’s grown harder for me to come up with blog subjects that have some meaning. And thus, might strike a chord with someone else.
But there’s one thing I am always grateful for, and that’s the companionship of my Mom’s three dogs. They’re my friends; they have personalities all their own. Even though they have the typical dog faults — they love food to distraction and will gladly eat themselves sick over and over again, for just one — and they’re not “shining beacons of light,” it’s still a joy to be around them. They enjoy life for what it is: they get fed, they’re warm and out of the cold, they get affection and told they’re loved quite frequently. And they are content.
Lest you think I only feel like this about dogs, think again. Cats, too, are very special creatures. They definitely have personalities, in some ways stronger ones than many dogs. Their reasoning can be easier to follow by human beings — or at least, by me — and while cats can be aloof, if they like you, they let you know it. And they, too, are a joy to be around because they know what’s important: companionship and caring. Anything else just doesn’t register for cats, being profoundly irrelevant to their lives.
I keep thinking what are the most important qualities in a friend, and I think “companionship and caring” about sums it up. This is why pets are so important to many human beings, because it gets harder every day to reach out and keep trying to make a connection with another living soul.
I know that in the strongest human friendships, these same two things — companionship, and caring — are what count the most. Then comes communication — something you don’t need to worry about as much with a cat or dog, as they read nonverbal clues far better than most humans — and shared experiences, among many other things that go into making up a strong friendship with a human being.
Friends are vitally important. In the end, it doesn’t matter so much what kind of friends we have, though it’s much easier for human beings to have a human friend or two as that’s really the best way we have to be fully understood, as a companion animal, no matter how wonderful it might be, cannot reason on a human level. (Nor should it be asked to do so.)
So at this time of year, where it’s cold and dark and dreary over the Northern Hemisphere, do your best to celebrate your friends, near and far. If they’re still alive, tell ’em you appreciate them; if they’re dead, celebrate their lives as best you’re able. And please do remember to pet your cat or dog a few extra times, too. They’ll appreciate it, and it might actually help you out, too.
Thoughts Regarding Editing (and Editors)
While continuing to recover from the latest sinus infection (nastier than most), I thought I’d blog about something I know a great deal about: editing, and editors.
See, some writers tend to think that editors “have it in” for them. That couldn’t be further from the truth, but you wouldn’t know it by what little tends to get said about editors — most of it being unflattering in the extreme.
Editors work hard to make sure manuscripts make as much sense as they possibly can before they get turned in. This can mean anything from fixing minor errors to asking questions about important plot points — though some places split the editing job up into three parts (proofreading, copy editing, and “straight editing,” the latter being more about the “macro-edit” of any given piece, while the first two deal with the more mundane particulars), other places don’t. I tend to call all three things “editing” even though if I’m asked merely to proofread, I don’t tend to bring my skills of “macro-editing” (looking at the piece of writing overall as a gestalt, then trying to improve it to the best piece of writing of which I can conceive), while if I’m being asked to copy-edit, it’s more likely that the “macro-edit” has been done by someone else.
But because all three of these things can be called for on one job (this happens quite often with one of the places I regularly edit for), it helps to get the particulars of any given job narrowed down. Do not feel silly if you ask questions, because without being willing to look silly at times, you cannot learn.
All that being said, editors often have last-minute changes from a writer (or, in the case of an anthology, writers) to incorporate. Sometimes, these changes come in after the layout process has started; that can be a particular challenge, one that makes you want to tear your hair out as an editor, but seems to be par for the course in our new, hyped-up digital age. Writers expect editors to just “go with the flow” and mostly, we do — but when we perform heroic actions to get a book to market despite delays on the writing end, it can get old.
So the next time you think about your editor (or editors), try to remember that editing skills are every bit as important as those a writer employs — and that many editors (if not most) are (or were) writers first. Editors have a really good understanding of what makes a writer tick, and we’re completely uninterested in stopping the creative process cold — what questions we ask are meant to spur something from you, the writer, that may not be in your manuscript as it stands but that you, the writer, may have thought was there. In short, editors are there to help you, and most if not all will work with you to improve your manuscript because any editor being employed has the best interests of the manuscript (story, novel, you name it) at heart. Period.
So if you were one of those I referenced above who thought that editors were “out to get you,” please do yourself a favor and think again. Because refusing to work with editors is not only counterproductive, it’s unprofessional, and will mark you out as a neophyte sooner than just about anything else. So do yourself a favor, and work with your editor rather than insisting your manuscript is so wonderful it needs no oversight whatsoever. (Please?)
——-
Edited to add: My late husband Michael was one of the best editors I’ve ever been around. I learned a great deal from him — what to do, what not to do — and it improved my writing immensely because I listened to him and didn’t automatically throw his suggestions out. I knew Michael was more accomplished than I was when I first started showing him my work — this was before we started dating, much less got married, mind — and from the beginning I was impressed by the depth and breadth of his knowledge and expertise.
You see, editing does not need to be a “zero sum game.” You don’t need “scorched earth tactics” to get the point across; you can instead use wit and humor, which is what Michael did with anyone he ever edited for — and it worked amazingly well.
Me, I am much more blunt than Michael ever was. But I try to use some humor as well as pointing out the good points of a manuscript when I edit; this is my ideal. But when time is short, sometimes the good points don’t get discussed — and that’s when writers get frustrated.
I can see any individual writer’s point, for the most part; he or she has worked very hard on a manuscript (whether it’s a story, novelette, novel, etc.) and here comes Ms. Editor to mark it all up in red. Then there are the balloons to the side if you’re using MS Word, and if you don’t see any words of encouragement from Ms. Editor, it can seem extremely disheartening and make writers go, “Now, why did I take up this profession again?”
But you must persevere and listen to your editor. If you have questions regarding an edit, ask your editor — I can’t say this often enough. Most if not all of us are glad to explain what we’re asking for — we may do it in a blunt way if we’re pressed for time, but we will explain it, and we will not be rude. (There’s a big difference between “rude” and “blunt.”)
Remember what my late husband Michael did, if you’re editing and can employ this strategy. It’s not only good manners, but it makes the maximum amount of sense — approaching someone’s manuscript gently, if you have enough time that you can do so, is almost assuredly the best way to go. (But even Michael, if he were pressed for time, would not explain as much or crack as many jokes during the explanation of his edit. Because that’s the nature of the job; you need to first get everything taken care of, then you can frame it a little bit so the writer can understand. But without first taking care of all of the problems, framing is impossible . . . does this make sense?)
Part 22 of “Changing Faces” in progress
Folks, I take my victories where I see ’em. And writing CHANGING FACES is definitely one of those, because I’ve persisted writing this novel over the past ten years. It’s gone through revisions, the death of my husband Michael, and now the death of my best friend, Jeff . . . and yet I persevere.
I hope that once I am finally done with this MSS, it will find its audience; I may have to self-publish it but I will try it, first, at a few places as it’s, in essence, a Christian-derived fantasy romance. Not my usual thing, and of course it has some New Age sentiment in it — but there’s nothing in it that is inaccessible, either.
I can also only hope that both Michael and Jeff, who were big fans of my writing in general and CHANGING FACES in particular (both wanted to see this finished and published in their lifetimes), will be happy with the final result. I know they’d be happy with me continuing onward, though I can’t do anything but that and be me . . . at any rate, getting a thousand words of writing in tonight into the next chapter (part 22) of this work is something to celebrate.
So let the happy dance commence.
Post-holiday illness
Right now I’m more sick than well. I seem to have the flu, or something close to it . . . all I was able to do last night, writing-wise, is open up my current work-in-progress, CHANGING FACES, and look at it. (Sometimes that will prompt something; sometimes, not.) Which is better than nothing, of course, but not what I wanted.
I did practice my saxophone today for about forty-five or fifty minutes, so that’s something positive.
Otherwise, I finished up the book I’ll be reviewing for Shiny Book Review tomorrow, Mercedes Lackey’s BEAUTY AND THE WEREWOLF, re-read one of my all-time favorite books, Rosemary Edghill’s TWO OF A KIND (more people should write like Rosemary does; she can write any genre, any style, anything at all and does it with flair), and am now working my way through Rosemary’s ILL-BRED BRIDE (another fine book).
Now, you might be wondering how I can read anything while I feel so lousy, or practice my saxophone, either. This is partly because I have to do something that makes me feel better; right now, I am grieving the loss of my very good friend, Jeff Wilson, and yet I know he’d not want me to cry all day long. (Sometimes I do cry for a while, but it passes.) That’s not what he was about; he was about doing whatever it took to feel better, and books often helped him feel better when he was down. So reading, in a strange way, is honoring his memory — and as it also honors my late husband Michael’s memory (who was the same way Jeff was in this regard), it’s a doubled blessing.
So, I read a bit, I practiced a bit, and now Mom and I are watching a movie, LEAP YEAR, a comedy starring Amy Adams as a control freak wanting to get married. (I have yet to see or hear any man who could put up with someone drawn the way Adams has been in real life, but I suppose it could happen. We all have our quirks.) And later, I’ll read a bit more, try to write some music, and maybe some words will come to me also . . . hey, it could happen.
More tomorrow, one way or another . . . though right now, saying that reminds me of the Shakespearean quote (from “Macbeth”), “Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in its petty pace from day to day . . . . “
Author Anne McCaffrey, 85, has died
Just a quick note to express my condolences to the family of author Anne McCaffrey, who passed away today at the age of 85. Ms. McCaffrey was world-renowned for her Dragonriders of Pern series and published in the fields of science fiction, fantasy, romance, science fiction/romance and the “blended” field of speculative fiction that mostly contained her best-known and best-loved series, the aforementioned Dragonriders of Pern.
I never met Ms. McCaffrey, save through her books, but I always felt like reading one of her books was like greeting a long-lost friend. Some of my favorites included the novella NERILKA’S STORY, the first three books in the Dragonriders of Pern Series (those being DRAGONFLIGHT, DRAGONQUEST, and THE WHITE DRAGON), and the Harper Hall trilogy DRAGONSONG, DRAGONSINGER, and DRAGONDRUMS.
She will be greatly missed.
Migraine today . . . and Story Ideas
Folks, I suffer from migraines, as my late husband Michael also did . . . and what I’ve found over time is that out of my migraine-induced haze, I often get some really interesting story ideas out of it.
Take ELFY, for example. I had been reading an anthology the night before and someone had been describing the worst of the urban fantasy genre — the mincing Faeries that seemed like human courtiers rather than anything alien or Other, that humans always outwitted these lesser-minded sorts, and so on and so forth — and all of that mixed up in my mind while under the influence of my migraine.
The next day (or maybe evening), I realized I had a character in my head: Bruno the Elfy. He liked to wear black, unlike his compatriots who wore all sorts of wild colors; he didn’t like to rhyme, unlike the rest of the Elfys. And he was stuck in the Human Realm — our Earth — because he’d been told one thing but the truth was something else again. Unraveling what the truth was took me a good year’s worth of work and a whole lot of conversations and editing done by my late husband and co-conspirator, Michael, before we had a completed book.
So even though I really don’t enjoy migraines, I do sometimes receive ideas of worth and value . . . and I look at it like this: make lemonade from whatever lemons you might be handed, if at all possible. (Sometimes it’s not.)
At any rate, am I all alone in this phenomenon? Or has anyone else come up with a good story idea or two on the way back out of a migraine headache?
Jeff Wilson: An Elegiac Portrait
I’ve been asked to describe my good friend, Jeff Wilson, to those who never got a chance to meet him. Here’s my best take, which I know will be inadequate.
Jeff was a very kind, compassionate person. He deplored the evils of this world, most particularly selfishness, greed and stupidity, but refrained from passing judgment on anyone. (More people should be like this.)
Jeff loved animals, and kept several cats (or maybe they kept him; I’m not sure). His cats were extremely important to him, and he treated them with respect and dignity — but don’t take that to mean he didn’t enjoy them, because he did. They often made him laugh, and he viewed this as an unalloyed blessing (which indeed, it was).
Jeff was an excellent friend. He was always there whenever he was needed, and he’d do whatever he could to help. He was an excellent listener; more to the point, he understood what he heard, which was a rare and special quality.
Jeff had very strong principles and an intrinsic sense of balance. Perhaps this was due to his appreciation of Eastern religious thought, most particularly the words of Confucius and Gautama Buddha; maybe it was just something about him that would’ve been there even without that, though studying those tenets certainly helped refine these excellent qualities.
Jeff searched for excellence in all things. He rarely found it, but when he did, he was as delighted as a child unwrapping just the toy he or she had wanted at Christmas.
Jeff appreciated classical music because it brought him closer to the Divine. His favorite composer was probably Ludwig van Beethoven; his favorite piece was Gustav Holst’s The Planets.
Jeff read everything, but he had a particular love for two different and disparate styles of writing: science fiction and fantasy on the one hand, and the highly structured and mannered novels of Jane Austen and her imitators on the other. He loved the former because they opened up new worlds and ways of thought to him; he loved the latter because they proved that even in a highly mannered world (now lost), people often acted rashly, badly, and without forethought — but how they got out of trouble in the end and found worthy pursuits was very similar to our own time. (In other words, Jeff found the commonality of human experience to be worthy, regardless of genre.)
Jeff was a nonmaterialist, a nonconformist, was an autodidact (meaning he taught himself many things he’d never learned in school and could absorb almost anything), a writer, an artist, dabbled with poetry but was rarely satisfied with his efforts (which to my mind, would make him a poet; not to his, though). He loved life, talking with people about anything and everything, and wanted to know all that was knowable.
I will miss him profoundly.
Odds and Ends
I’ve been too busy to update my blog the last few days . . . so here’s what’s been going on.
First, my car died — well, the engine blew out (all four cylinders went at the same time, along with the head gasket) on a rainy, blustery evening. I sat by the side of the road for close to an hour, without the heater going because I was more worried about keeping battery power for the hazard lights . . . I didn’t know what had gone wrong, just that something really bad happened when I tried rounding a turn and rather than accelerating, the car went down to 10 mph, then zero — I had inertia and nothing else left to get off the road. As I was in a bad spot (no lights), the hazards were the priority . . . fortunately I didn’t get hit, the car was towed into the garage I use (Wild Rides in Racine; good and honest mechanics), and I was able to find out what was wrong.
However, my car was fourteen years old and I knew this wasn’t the only problem with it. Even if I had repaired the engine, I didn’t have any idea what would go next (and as I’ve replaced a number of things in recent years, I knew my car had reached the end of its natural lifespan — if cars can be said to have lifespans); the best solution was to get another car, which I did.
But car shopping, even when it goes well, is exhausting; perhaps that’s why I still feel so drained today (as I found out the engine was blown Thursday, and went car shopping on Friday). I did find a car I liked, though; another small one (I like those the best).
Second, I did manage about 1000 more words, up to maybe 3000 total, in chapter 21 of CHANGING FACES (the work-in-progress for NaNo). So that’s good.
I practiced four times this week and my hands are handling it, which is also good . . . most of my technique is there, but the carpal tunnel syndrome makes itself felt every now and again despite my best efforts. Still, I’m glad to be able to play, as for many years, I couldn’t.
Next, I await the recalls of Governor Scott Walker, Lieutenant Governor Rebecca Kleefisch, and my own Republican Senator, Van Wanggaard. All of those papers should be filed on November 15, 2011; we’ll have sixty days to get enough signatures (I know it’s over 540,000 needed, statewide, for both Walker and Kleefish, and it’s 1/4 of whatever the total vote was in district 21, which includes most of Racine County and the city of Racine, for Van Wanggaard) to force a recall election. I believe all three of them will be voted out once a recall election is called; still, all the procedures must be taken care of to get to the end result.
And finally, while I know I’m quite low energy today, I will do whatever I can to give emotional and psychological support to my friends and family, most especially to my good friend Jeff. (But that’s not really news.)
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