I have been the slightest bit remiss, of late, in my authorly duties. Or rather in broadcasting to you all just how my authorly duties have been carrying on while I wasn't watching. (Damn things require careful supervision, or they start nesting in the corners. You know how it is.)

So!

First up, a little whiles back I participated in an discussion-type interview about writers and writing.

Writers deal in conundrums and contradictions, striving to “open a vein”, as the saying goes, and tap something you don’t necessarily want on public display in order to produce worthwhile writing, and at the same time working very hard, crafting and polishing, in order to produce something worthy of public display. Reconciling those opposed desires, as Tess pointed out, requires sleight of mind (that’s such a great phrase!), especially during the initial draft.

The discussion was triggered by Gillian Pollack's new anthology, "Baggage",¹ which I for one am pretty keen to read. It veered into all sorts of interesting places, from cultural baggage and the (often irrational) process of writing, to writing on difficult/sensitive/arresting subjects that have no solution. And it isn't just me mouthing off; the wonderfully irreverent Tessa and incisive KJ Bishop get all wise into the bargain — so go, read. Marvel at our flippant biographies and potted wisdom. (Or thank your lucky stars you don't have to live in any of our brains. Take your pick.)

Secondly, my contributor's copy of ASIM #45 arrived in the post a little whiles back. Look! Is it not pretty?

The ASIM website is still listing #43 as the most recent issue, but I'm assured that #45 will soon be on shelves or available for purchase through the website. This is the copy of ASIM that features my week one Clarion South story, "Shaping Lily", a story about a little old lady on an epic quest, with fruit bats and hearts and Consequences.

And finally, because I think you should admire my mad photography skillz some more love you all, have another Mongolia snap.

1. I don't have a story in Baggage. I'm not entirely sure how I therefore earned myself a place in this discussion, but when people call me rather wonderful and ask me to say things, I do not quibble. I'm nice like that.

FIRST

You do all realise there will be random and intermittent Mongolia stories for some time to come, right? Never fear, they won't be your typical I did such and such, saw such and such, and am now cramming seven gazillion photos and details into one drawn out day type posts, mainly because I'll bore myself shitless if I even so much as tried that.

However, tonight I have other news, writing-ish news, which I should impart first. This brings me to:

THIRDLY

The PodCastle contract for "The Wages of Salt" has been signed and returned. I'll let you know the date it's podcast when I know it. I must admit, this being the first audio version of one of my stories, I'm eager to hear it read aloud.

In other short fiction news, ASIM #45 didn't go live while I was away, as far as I can see. In case you were trying to keep an eye out. Again, more when I know it.

SIXTH AND LASTLY

Here's something I didn't know before now, but might come in handy for you: there's an ebook version of Shadow Queen available!

Apologies for not alerting you all to this sooner, but I only found out because I had need to visit the A&U website today and noticed a new link.

So I guess that means you international types now have an easier way of accessing the book than wrangling with postage rates.

AND, TO CONCLUDE…

For all of you eagerly waiting to find out how Matilde's story ends, courtesy of the good folks at A&U you can now read the first two chapters of Shadow Bound online (or download a PDF for reading later).

The hardcopy version should start appearing on shelves in bricks and mortar stores any time from now on, so get out there and get hunting!

I have 98 AA batteries for the trip to Mongolia. They may well take up the majority of my baggage weight allowance. The perils of trying to calculate how many batteries you'll need to see you through 3 weeks of a potentially avid photography spree.

I've also spent the weekend collating all the medicinal and toiletry stuffs I'll need. I'm a shampoo and toothbrush kind of girl, mostly, but travel to remoter places always requires so much more. First aid kits, emergency antibiotic kits, emergency contact lens solutions, stuff I'll hopefully never need but have to take anyway. My toiletries may well take up the majority of my baggage volume. Once I shove a sleeping bag and sleeping mat in there, I'm not actually sure there'll be any room left for, yanno, clothes.

I see a slight flaw in my packing plans.

This weekend also saw an email from my ASIM editor bearing news. Blog readers blessed with an eidetic memory will have noticed that the April 2010 publication date of the ASIM #45, the issue to feature my story, "Shaping Lily", has been and gone.

Apparently this is because the issue preceding it is running late, and thus we wait. However there is talk afoot of staging a revolution, in which case #45 will be published first. Nothing concrete yet on that front; I mention it now only in case it does happen, and the issue gets published while I'm away fleeing bubonic marmots, and you are all left unawares. So, consider yourselves suitably aware'd.

Various text messages from my family this morning, asking if I'd been swept off the face of the earth by the Melbourne winds yet. (I'm guessing there was something on the national news last night?)

For all those who are curious: I'm fine. Although I do have to admit that on walking out the front door of work late last week, the wind was fierce enough to literally knock me off my feet. If a colleague had not been on the other side of me (and clearly rather steadier on his feet than I) I would have ended up sprawled across the tarmac. Classy. And that was on a day of just "normal" August winds, not worth warning commuters about.

Fair warning: If I vanish without warning, it is entirely possible I've been carried off to Oz. Which means I could quite legitimately start using the phrase "Don't make me get my flying monkeys…!" AWESOME. (Who wants a souvenir munchkin?)

In the meantime, the good news on my plate is that the edits on "Shaping Lily" are officially — I have it in writing now — done. Done! (Well, except for the proofs. But that's not until next year.)

Let it be known that live music is good for the soul.

Now, I'll grant you that seeing Eddy Current Suppression Ring and Tex Perkins in the space of two nights, one of said nights being a school night no less, may have been more than my bio-rhythms were prepared to cope with, and I would have far preferred to get more than 9 hours sleep in the last 57, but…eh. It was worth it. I REGRET NOTHING.

Of course, as a consequence, today has so far been spent playing catch-up on the chores. And, er, lolling upon the couch. Which is how I intend to pass the rest of the afternoon. Although, in the interests of being a somewhat productive member of society, said lolling will be accompanied by words on the faerie novel, and edits on "Shaping Lily". At some point.

Honest.

All week I was promised: 20°C on Saturday. And now Saturday is here, and I'm sitting on the couch wearing my fingerless gloves and wrapped in a throw rug, because it is very clearly NOT 20°C. No doubt when I leave the house this afternoon, the wind will sweep itself and all the clouds away to the south and Melbourne will start to bake and I, I will be overdressed and thus I will suffer. This is the natural way of things.

So far this morning, I have managed to wake up at 6:39 (and this is despite not getting to sleep until about 02:30 and where can I lodge a complaint about my bio-rhythms, anyway?) and pick my way through maybe half of the copyedits on "Shaping Lily". Suffice to say I've had better days as far as focus is concerned. Ah well.

Now I think it's time for breakfast.

Before I dive back into wrangling that effing car-crash of a narrative the faerie novel.

ETA: Since the A-format of Shadow Queen should be hitting bookshelves soon, it occurs to me now would be a good time to remind visitors to the blog that you can read the first chapter online for free.

I've finished the first round of edits on "Shaping Lily" and sent them winging on their way back to the editor — who will doubtless send them straight back with a "Good work! You fixed exactly a drabble of the stuff that needed fixing…here's the stuff you didn't fix back again so you can have another go at that, and while we're at it here's some more!" Because edits are never done in one pass, and fixing one niggle always makes other jagged bits stand out. Writing is in the re-writing, as someone (actually probably various someones) famous has already opined.

Last night, instead of turning back to the poor oft-abandoned faerie novel as I should have done, I worked on a short story. Poor faerie novel: it has been picked up and put down so often it's surely going to have some serious continuity issues. And probably a good few narrative drive issues into the bargain. (Poor me, who will need to fix them!) All my stories get abandoned at some point, because my brain likes to switch to a different problem when I hit the middle of the story.¹

Tonight… tonight I cannot decide what to work on. And I am getting distracted by Apple Dictionary only being in American English. Why is there no Australian English dictionary? Or at least a British English dictionary? I DO NOT SPEAK OR SPELL AMGLISH, APPLE.

1. The one story which was written without any periods of abandonment, even minor ones, is Shadow Queen — although it did have its periods of stalled work while I grumbled and glared at it and muttered under my breath about recalcitrant plotlines.

Today, determined to finish the first pass of edits on "Shaping Lily", I decided to track my progress throughout the day. In the interests of accountability, you understand.

Read on at your own peril. You have been warned.

9:17: Realise I've been dicking around on the internet far too long already, mostly reading through 6 insane discoveries science can't explain (yet).¹ This is not a promising start to my revisions. Quickly check my to-do list, and remember in a panic all those bloody things I promised myself I'd do today. Realise edits on Lily is therefore not the first thing I have to do today. Decide edits on Lily are the first thing I'm going to do today anyway.

9:20: Notice the bean bag has broken a seam and am in danger of drowning in bean bag beans. Get swayed by the idea of going couch shopping. Grab needle and thread and sew up seam and decide edits are what I'm doing today. Couches tomorrow, if the edits are done. (Take a moment to marvel at my willpower. Attribute it not to any interior strength but instead to apathy: couch shopping would mean I have to get dressed.)

9:22: Open file, discover with pleasant surprise my attempts this week have got me up to page 7 already. Of course, i appear to have added 500 words in the process. Like women by men, my stories always grow by editing.

9:38: Stuck on how to describe age and its effects on a body. In desperation, open up the very first draft of the story from four years ago and discover all this wondrous material that had somehow been cut out. Gleefully plagiarise myself. (Story grows by yet another 100 words or so. Edit it back down to only a 50-word growth spurt.)

9:42: SUNSHINE! The sun is high enough in the sky to be pouring in through my lounge room windows like a massage on the back of my neck and OOOOOOOHHHHHHH YEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH that's good. (Realise I've been neglecting my cup of tea, which I'd set aside to cool and which is not quite tepid. Down half a cup of tea. Feel a bit gurgly. Down the other half rather than wasting it.)

9:53: Have just spent the past ten minutes pondering who on earth "MS" is. I have a list of all the comments this story garnered during its clarion critiques, and one of the commenters is MS. Tick off in my head all the students and realise there is no MS. Who the hell is MS? At last remember that, although it was a week one story, the week two tutor also commented on it and MS is, ergo, MICHAEL SWANWICK. Not that this makes a difference to anything in particular, but brain can now stop nagging at its memory banks and get back to the story, dammit!

10:10: Realise I've used the word sunshower and ponder whether it's the right word (do I perhaps want summer showers instead?) and whether it's universal enough. Google. Discover there's a Wikipedia page on sunshowers. Get distracted by the folklore behind sunshowers. Feel yet another story idea forming. Banish it. Decide to use sunshowers in this story, as it fits nicely with the folkloric feeling building in the background at this point. Then, perversely, decide I like the rhythm of "summer showers" better. Ponder, can't decide, torn. Leave a comment to myself in the margin to come back to later.

10:19: Pause to take note of the sunshowers folklore for the faerie novel and/or any other story which might come along. Idea safely stored, back to edits. Decide on "summer showers" after all.

10:25: Not back to story after all. Need a snack. Time for another cup of tea. Which one, which one?

10:29: Lady Grey. Can't go wrong with a cup of Lady Grey. Have chewed down a dozen or so almonds while waiting in the kitchen for the kettle to boil. Kitchen is south-facing and is still FARKING COLD. Am exceedingly glad to return to sun-filled lounge room (and, er, story. yeah.) (Despite starting on page 7, appear to be back on page 5.)

10:40: Finally back to page 7, at the point where i left off yesterday. Have spent 10 minutes staring at this point. There's a reason this is where I stopped yesterday. BECAUSE I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO MAKE THIS SENTENCE WORK. THIS ONE BLASTED SENTENCE.

10:51: Cup of tea finally cooled enough that I can drink without burning my mouth. Have resorted to an age-old writerly trick that helps me when i can't make a sentence work: open up a brand new document. Something about the blank, unsaved, temporary page makes it easier to "write out loud". It must take away the fear that I'll break the story and not be able to get back to the unbroken state. Writers' brains are weird — or at least, mine is.

11:06: Oops! 11am news on the radio tells me that gay penguins Harry and Pepper have split up after Harry shacked up with widow penguin Linda, and I am distracted into googling this to find out more. Poor Pepper (On the other hand, the new-document trick worked and I have the sentence I needed. Plus, page 8. At last!)

11:19: More tea! (Needed to stretch my back anyway.) Rooibos with vanilla this time. Still in the same cup as the last two, however, which may undercut the experience somewhat.

11:45: Page 9. Up to a tricky bit, where Lily meets Red. Editor points out Lily seems to be caught between taking Red seriously and humouring her addled wits, and story would work better if we just had the single reaction. Think Editor is right and decide Lily needs to be a little bit snarkier. No, not snarkier, more prim and determined. H'm. Tricksome.

11:52: Have discovered some chocolate I didn't know I had in the house. This is dangerous. Looks like the story will not be the only thing growing during these edits: my backside will be joining the party. Also, have reached grievous part of day where sunshine prevents me from seeing the screen no matter what angle I use. Reluctantly, must lower blinds a smidge. Check Twitter for another moment's procrastination, and see that Tessa is out and about and d'oh! remember today is Melbourne Open House Day and I had meant to explore the city's normally locked buildings. Must continue with edits. Edits are more worthwhile usage of my time today. Still, am snarky over this realisation. Will channel snark into the prim and determined confrontation.

12:33: Page 10! Tricksome confrontation turned out to be not so tricksome after all — just deleted the glaring references to humouring Red's addled wits and poked at a comma here and there. I am always surprised when pruning reveals a structure i didn't realise was actually there.

13:04: Nearly at the bottom of page 12. Sore back. Should maybe switch to sitting at desk. But desk is not in lounge room, in fall of sunlight. Attention flagging badly now. Perhaps it's time for a proper break. Contemplate going for a drive to take photos of a secret awesome view of Melbourne Tessa showed me last night, but discover camera battery is flat. New plan: will keep revising until battery charged, then take break. (Hope it doesn't take æons to charge camera battery.)

13:46: Am so sick of sitting here! Battery charger is flashing. I do not recognise this behaviour, but I have never studied my battery charger's behaviour before. Perhaps this is normal? Halfway down page 13. Radio is playing You Am I's "Damage", which suits my mood nicely. Can no longer remember what fixes this part of the story needs. Decide this means it needs none. Obviously.

14:13: Investigate what flashing light means on battery charger. Instruction book makes no mention of this. Take battery out, put battery back in. Flashing ceases. H'm. Decide all this lack of attention span must be the result of not enough food. Lunch time!

14:51: Was I at page 18 when I left off? Didn't realise. This is promising, not much to go on this pass! (Steadfastly ignoring the fact this story wasn't 18 pages long when i started editing it.) Oops, first problem: dizziness receding. I've used this phrase already, haven't I? Sort of. Back on page 10, there's keeping dizziness at bay. H'm. Different enough, I suppose. For this pass.

15:00: (Why doesn't someone email me, so I can legitimately do no work for a moment?)

15:02: Got sick of radio and pressed play on the CD player … to find that track 1 is the exact same song the radio was just playing. What are the odds? Plan to change music mood: failed.

16:05: Attention span shot to hell. Took a break to eat a bowl of ice cream and watch an episode of Arrested Development. I introduced Tess to this series last night, just when she can least afford a marathon. Back to it now. So close, so close. Nearly to the bottom of page 18, and the natural climax. Then I just have to take the next two pages (which will probably be cut) and weave the bits I desperately want to keep back through the story. Onward!

16:13: Page 19! No idea precisely how to weave the cut but salvageable bits from pages 19-20 back through pages 1-18. Pressed ⌘X anyway. Snipsnip, the quickest way is just to do it.² Also, just scrolled to the end of the original first draft of this manuscript and realised I had, very helpfully, made a note of which initials matched up with which critiquer. So that ten minutes, trying to figure out MS = Michael Swanwick? Totally wasted.

16:41: Oh noes! Word is not responding! When did I last save? FARK.

16:43: Recently enough, it appears. If I've lost anything, I'm not aware of it. Ignorance is bliss.

17:15: End of page 19, end of the story! Except now the final note of the story doesn't quite ring right. Damn.

17:33: Have poked at the transition from climax to final note, and it's not quite the same as before, but I think it works. Am going to turn off track changes and do a quick read-through out loud, see if I'm right. The story got up to 1,000 words longer at one point, but I seem to have chopped it back again to only 700 words longer.

18:04: Read-through done. No idea what I achieved, other than convincing the neighbours I am loopy. Calling it quits on this story for today.

1. I knew about the antikythera mechanism, but didn't know about the others. Really like the pipes. And the bloop Cthulhu.
2. Have pasted the cut portion into a blank document for reference. I'm not a walking memory stick, after all.

Last night I stared at "Shaping Lily" with my edit letter in mind, and wondered if it's possible to fix what needs fixing without pulling the story to pieces.

It was a totally vain endeavour, of course, and I knew this at the time as well, but it appears to be part of my process. There is a point in my process — just after I've received feedback on a story but before I've actually started any (further) revisions — when the story hangs in the balance. A point wherein I basically sit staring at the story, hesitating, thinking a lot but achieving nothing. Or nothing material, at least.

Because as soon as I start — as soon as I select a single thread on which to work — the entire story will unravel and in the process a whole slew of other things that require fixing will fall out, and what was once a story will become instead a mess of shredded words scattered haphazardly over my desk. And I will have to examine every word, singly and in context, yet one more time, as I try to weave it all (seamlessly!) back into a cohesive narrative.¹

All that sitting and staring has its place as well, however. It's a moment of waiting, of zen before the battle frenzy, which fixes the big picture in mind before I get lost in the minutiae.

Which is what it's time to do now.

1. This metaphor would probably be much stronger if I knew anything at all about sewing, or weaving, or knitting.

Today I have exceedingly good news: I have sold a story to ASIM. Tentative publication date is April 2010.

For those playing along at home, I wrote the first draft of this story in January 2005, during my stint at Clarion. (Actually, since it was my week one story, I probably started it, in some brief and jotted form at least, in late December 2004.) I can't remember what I called it at the time (probably something genius like "Untitled"), but it's since acquired the title "Shaping Lily".

The story was inspired by the meeting of two ideas: an epic(ish) quest fantasy story wherein the main character was a little old lady, and Web of Light, by Stephanie Pui-Mun Law. (And in seeking out that link for you, I've only just gone and gotten myself lost in browsing Stephanie's site. Again.)

It's a quaint little story, and one I'm very fond of, so I'm glad it's found a good home.

And in updating my spreadsheet which records these things for me, I've belatedly realised I have exactly one short story currently doing the rounds of submissions, and nothing else to offer. I do have a handful of short stories in serious need of revising (some of my Clarion stories are still languishing, for example — although I think they'll stay languishing, except for one, which may turn into a novel. Like I need yet another novel idea in the queue. Still, too many ideas is a nicer problem to have than not enough ideas, I suppose).

H'm. Perhaps it's time to work on revising or drafting a short story or two.