The Books That Sent Me Down This Path

1990

This week's topic in the soon-not-to-be-a-bordello anymore - new title and contest winner to be announced soon! - is the book(s) that got us started on our genre.

This is always a hugely difficult question for me to answer because it feels like squeezing decades of reading into less than a thousand words.

Probably because that's exactly what we're trying to do.

But I'm trying this topic's particular focus on which books really sent me towards my niche genre of fantasy romance. I've discovered an interesting trend through this reflection on my past.

1991

A bit of history first. I trace my decision to become a writer to November of 1991. This is easy for me to look up, because my epiphany hit in the middle of the annual meeting of the Society for Neuroscience in New Orleans. (They have a convenient and nicely organized sidebar of past meetings that I check any time I need to confirm the exact date.) Actually, as epiphanies sometimes do, mine came in the form of a complete meltdown, in which I burst into tears in front of my PhD adviser and ran from the building.

At this point I discovered that pursuing my life's ambition should probably not make me that crazy. And that maybe what I really wanted out of life was something else entirely. To my vast surprise, it turned out that the "something else" was to be a writer.

1994

During that convention I was reading Anne Rice's The Witching Hour. I remember it vividly because my mom, who went with me to that convention, was reading it also. We even hunted down the house in the story and discovered Anne Rice actually lived there. I'd been a fan of Rice's since I received a copy of Interview with the Vampire in my Science Fiction Book Club shipment. This book, though, it wrapped me up, masticated my heart into tiny pieces and tucked them back inside me, totally changed. Yeah, I was already an emotional wreck - a lot happened to me that year, including meeting David, who turned out to be the love of my life - and that book was part of it.

It planted the seed of what I really wanted to write, without me even knowing it.

1995

Because I'd *always* loved to read anything paranormalish. From the time I picked up Anne McCaffrey's Dragonsong in 5th grade - not coincidentally the same year I read Interview with the Vampire - I consumed everything along those lines that I could find.

Two things, however, kept me from writing in that genre at first. Actually, I should say publishing. I did start writing this fantasy THING. It involved terrible fragments that went nowhere because I had zero craft or support in that direction. This is key, I think. My first publication was an essay, in 1997, and I came to write it because I took a class called Essays on Self and Place in 1996.

1998

Note how many years it took me from epiphany to publication.

1996

So, because I didn't know anyone who wrote genre, and there weren't visiting writer classes I could take in it, I didn't get focused on writing fantasy. Also, being in an academic environment, I thought I needed to write "important" things, not genre.

Alas.

But all during these years, that's what I was reading. It's interesting to review the books and series that pop into my head as formative - and then see the progression of dates. I've added them in as captions so you can see, too.

This is by no means an exhaustive list, but I *did* become an exhaustive reader. I didn't read all of these exactly when they came out, but pretty damn close. I haunted my local Hastings Book Store (because the indie book stores didn't carry genre), which had a rack of these books. I picked up Jacqueline Carey's Kushiel's Dart based on the cover and started in on Anita Blake because a colleague and similar fan of romance/paranormal crossover recommended them. And we'd both glommed onto Diana Gabaldon's Outlander books.

2002

A couple of things happened in the early 2000s. "The turn of the century" I liked to call it, but nobody thought I was funny. My first collection of essays (Wyoming Trucks, True Love and the Weather Channel) came out in 2004, to critical acclaim and practically zero income.

2002

Also, I became very aware of my unadulterated addiction to a number of series. I spent vast amounts of money on my autobuy books - JD Robb's In Death books, Gabaldon, Carey, Laurell K Hamilton and a few others. A good friend who'd begun to manage one of the local indie bookstores - and who was savvy and unpretentious enough to recognize book buyers like me - fed my addiction. She knew when my next autobuy book was coming out before I did and would have it ordered and waiting for me.

2005

Of course I couldn't resist.

Then, one day, she handed me Twilight. I wasn't interested. She said, no, really - my editor friend in NYC said she just spent the weekend reading this book and was spellbound. My friend thought I should at least read it, because early indicators were that it would be big. Then she asked me why wasn't I writing this kind of book, as much as I loved them.

At least I didn't cry that time.

But it was a second epiphany. I dug out those horrible fragments and began to play with them. It took several more years - and a lot of learning the craft of both writing novels and learning genre - but here I am, with my books right in there.

Pretty cool!

Four Great Books, One Not So Great - My Five

So many books, so little time. This year, I dissected books. In the midst of the stories I most enjoy, I spent a few minutes pausing to ask why I enjoyed them so much - how had the authors pulled me into the narrative? I did this both with fiction and with nonfiction - just to see how the tools and techniques differed - or even if they did differ. Here, in no particular order, are my five:

Countdown: Our Last, Best Hope for a Future on Earth – Alan Weisman  You recognize this name from his previous book The World Without Us, which was, at its heart, an optimistic book. Countdown is not exactly a happy, feel-good book, but it is fascinating and compelling. And the thing I think I admire most is this writer’s ability to convey difficult messages with writing so fluid, I got sucked right in. It never once crossed my mind to give up on this book. That’s worth studying.

Mindset: The New Psychology of Success – Carol Dweck – This is the book that details research into the psychology of Fixed Mindset and Growth Mindset. I grew up in Fixed Mindset. I hate being wrong. Hates it with a white hot passion – even when I know, intellectually, that making mistakes is the only way to learn something. Someone with Growth mindset believes he or she can get smarter and smarter – that the brain is a muscle that with exercise only gets stronger and better. I’d read this because it promised to teach me how to change my mindset from Fixed to Growth. Still working on that. What? I like reading psychology. I get that it makes me a complete weirdo.

Rogue’s Paradise – Actually, I’m lucky enough to have read everything Jeffe published this year and it’s always a treat. Her characters and her stories always draw me right in. Studying her techniques, too, believe you me. But this trilogy, in particular, makes me happy. And I have secret hope that it won't remain a trilogy for long.

First Grave on the Right – Darynda Jones – yeah, I know I’m slow on the uptake. It’s just where this book happened to be in my TBR pile. In fact, this is my current holiday guilty pleasure read. No strings. No study. I just get to read for enjoyment. Except, while I am enjoying the book a lot – I think her take on someone seeing dead people and how and why that happens feels fresh – I’m also taking mental notes about how the author is constructing scenes and showing conflict and emotion. So, Ms. Jones? Sorry. I can’t seem to kick this morbid habit of peeling back the skin of a story like I’m some kind of deranged serial killer. Yes. This is me. Rubbing my hands in glee.

Unnamed novel by an unnamed author – I’m not naming the book or the author because this book would have been thrown across the room had it not been on my Kindle. Did not finish this book. I gave it ten chapters to throw me a bone, but it ended up being toss worthy itself. The heroine was just a great big ,closed off bundle of NOPE. She had not a single nice bone in her body as far as I could tell and the moment she stomped on the hero’s dreams, coldly rejecting them out of hand, I was done. Would have been had the reverse been true – had the hero crushed her dreams under heel, I’d have wanted to use the book as kindling, too. So why am I putting this book here? Knowing what annoys the crap out of me is hugely useful as a teaching tool. I’m taking notes and filing this book under HOW MAKE MARCELLA DETEST A CHARACTER. Also – in my opinion, the most interesting part of this story happened before this book starts. The scene choices made are also telling – in that I’m taking more notes about which scenes I would have chosen to write and none of them are the scenes this author actually wrote. A book that doesn’t work for me has a whole bunch to teach me. That’s why I included it. Will I finish the book? Oh hell no. Life is too short and there are way too many great books out there.

5 Books -- Some Old, Some New in 2014

5 Books that stuck with me long after I'd closed them...well, it's a mix of release dates. Some are old, some are older, and some were newly released in 2014. All were new to me.

1. Maid of Deception by Jennifer McGowan -- It's the second book in a YA historical series about a group of young female spies in service to the newly-crowned Queen Elizabeth. Each member of the troupe has a particular strength. The Maid of Deception is one known for her stunning beauty and the ease with which manipulates men. What makes darling Beatrice unique, is that she and the Queen despise each other almost as much as they need each other. It turned out to be quite the historical romance involving Scottish rebellions and arranged (and re-arranged) marriages.

2. Blackbirds by Chuck Wendig -- The first in the Miriam "I Foresee How You Die" Black series. I bought this book long after I'd followed him on Twitter. Truly a case of a sale driven by social media. If you like non-linear paranormal thrillers, then Miriam is your potty-mouthed gal.

3. Gods of Asgard by Erik Evensen -- It's a great graphic novel highlighting the Norse myths. The stories follow the more popular translations of the Prose Edda. Wonderful artwork.

4. The Strain by Guillermo del Toro & Chuck Hogan -- Ads for the TV show drove me to read the book first. Well, that and the insistence of my brother in law that I read it before I see it. I much preferred the book (because I liked the way I interpreted the characters better than the TV show. I'm picky like that). Don't know that I would have bothered with the book if I had seen the show first.

5. Wit'ch Fire by James Clemens -- First book in the "Banned and Banished" series. Yes, yes, the book is 15 years old. That's the great thing about great fantasy ... it's ageless and waiting to be rediscovered. It's a Chosen One story with a female protag. I liked it enough to hunt down the next two books...and I'm pretty sure there are two more after that.

How Reading as a Writer Is Different

This is our younger cat, Jackson, chewing on my wind chimes. You'll note the lengths he went to, to get to them.

I feel this way about books - can't wait to get them and then I chew them up.

With a book I love, I savor every bite, swallowing it down and carrying that warm, full feeling. Other books, I just chew and chew, masticating over why I don't like them - why some aspect is failing to work for me.

It's a curse, I tell you.

No, really.

This week's topic (suggested by one of my bordello mates, though a trigger one for me) is Reading Books as Writers: Do you read differently & close-reading techniques. See, I've always been a close reader. I'm blessed with an ability to concentrate that lets me shut out the rest of the world to focus on only what I'm doing and nothing else. This is a trait that annoyed my mother no end when I was a kid. But, over the course of my life, it's turned out to be a useful quality. My superpower, if you will. Hey, I can't rescue schoolchildren from perilously perched buses, but I test well.

It's something.

So, I'm one of those readers who pays a lot of attention. My early academic training has me following themes and symbolism, enjoying the layers the author weaves in. I love a puzzle of a story, assembling the various clues and inconsistencies. Unreliable narrators rock my little reader world. Nothing better than a writer who leaves a trail of bread crumbs and delivers a loaf of bread at the end.

However, this means I notice inconsistencies, too. When I was twelve, I made a list of mistakes and slips in Anne McCaffrey's Dragonriders of Pern series. I had this whole plan to send her a helpful letter, pointing them out. Now I'm glad I never did. Back then I didn't know they'd only annoy her, as writers have no way to fix published books.

I think this also makes me a good critique partner - or a really annoying one.

But, to answer the question of whether I read differently as a writer?

Yes. Yes, I do. And let me tell you - it's kind of a bummer.

So much of my mind now is geared to process the craft of writing, from point-of-view changes to scene structure to word choice to character arc, that I can't seem to entirely turn it off. Gone are the days when I could just enjoy a book for what it was. I'm always making mental notes, the critique part of my mind making little pencil-on-paper noises even after I've told it to shut up. I can kind of turn-it down, but if I start to wonder why something isn't working for me, that part of my brain promptly provides a list.

On the flip side, if I find a book that really does work for me, I am over the moon.

Still, there's one more aspect of being a writer that I believe may have forever diminished my joy in reading. It's a dirty little secret of fiction-writing that no author I've seen confesses to.

(Or, it's entirely possible that it's just me and now everyone will point and laugh.)

See, now that I'm writing my own stories - the ones like the kind I best loved to read - it's really super fun. Way more fun than I ever suspected it would be. It wasn't like this when I wrote nonfiction. But when I write a fiction piece, I get all wrapped up in the world and characters in the exact same way I used to as a reader. It's all the same transportive wonder and thrill - ONLY BETTER.

Yeah, that's right.

It's like I've found the über-drug and now nothing else gets me quite as high. Oh, I'll dabble in the others, especially for the social aspect. But when I need to mainline, I know where to find it.

Just leave me in my corner and walk away quietly.

Nothing to see here, folks. 

Merry, Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas & Joyous Winter Holidays, Dear Readers!

-- From The Word-Whore Family

I'm Reading UR Books. Stealing UR Karacters.

by Allison Pang

Not really. Or at least not in the outright plagiarizing way, anyway. The problem with this week's topic is that I've read and adored so many books and so many characters that trying to pick ones that I wish I'd written is horribly difficult.

From a success standpoint it's easy to just stand there and say, gee I wish I'd written Harry Potter or the vampire Lestat.

But I don't. And part of the issue here is that since I've become a writer myself, I have a much deeper appreciation for the authors who have put out such wonderful stories. Writing books can be hard - reading is so much more fun. Somehow the idea of writing such fabulous characters seems exhausting. ;-)

(I'm cheating here a bit because I'm picking entire books - without the story, where does the character stand?)

That in mind, I can say  I wish I'd written Kushiel's Dart  - I admit to having a fairly soft spot for it, in particular that first book - it had an epic sense of scale and yet a personal tale that I could relate to, without getting bogged down in the complexity of other high fantasy epics I might name. *gives Robert Jordan the hairy eyeball*
Love and intrigue and sex and just enough mysticism to put it squarely into my favorite of all time series. Love as thou wilt, indeed.

I've shied away from trying to write something similar. Partially because I don't think I could really ever live up to the expectation I'd set on myself, and partially because I'd always be comparing my story to that one and that's probably no good. But you never know. ;-)

I also wish I'd written Melusine. Mildmay in particular, is one of most complex characters I've ever seen, but there's a real humanism to him that allows the reader to be drawn into his past tragedies and his family issues. The whole series, is good, by the way - elements of fantasy with a bit of steam punk technology, although it's not really labelled as steampunk. In either case, the political twists and turns are quite fascinating and well worth looking into.

The world building is fabulous, but don't expect the author to spell out every little thing for you. I was completely absorbed and immersed. :)

Good Omens. I mean - you don't get much better than Neil Gaiman and Terry Prattchet, but from a humor standpoint, it's beyond fabulous. (It helps if you have a Monty Python sense of humor. Or if you've read anything by Prattchet before - much of it is along that same line - both ridiculous and mocking and yet so very, very true.

Hell, I'd have loved to write Sandman too, speaking of Gaiman.

And I suppose I'll doff my manga cap here and say I wish I'd written Ayashi no Ceres.

Yuu Watase's beautiful artwork and storytelling about a Celestial trying to find her hagaromo (robe of feathers) is one of my favorite of all time.  I actually have a pretty good cel collection from the anime because I liked it so much...

(The anime is okay - the manga is much better and more detailed, as books/graphic novels usually are.)





So there we go.  The thing is, any book that touches you so deeply is bound to leave a mark on your own creativity. It might be conscious or subconscious depending on what it is, but in a lot of ways that's the true legacy of a work of fiction.

Where I've Traveled

By Kerry Schafer

"There is no Frigate like a Book

To take us Lands away,
Nor any Coursers like a Page
Of prancing Poetry – 
This Traverse may the poorest take       
Without oppress of Toll – 
How frugal is the Chariot
That bears a Human soul." ~Emily Dickinson

Why yes, I have been to Narnia. In fact, I traveled on the Dawntreader with Prince Caspian and the Pevensies, and saw all the strange lands they discovered. I met the White Witch and Aslan, saw the lamppost and the wardrobe, and tasted enchanted Turkish Delight. Dinesen showed me lions and giraffes in their natural habitat, and human beings out of theirs. Kipling took me into the jungles and villages of India. I climbed the Swiss Alps with Rudi in Banner In The Sky, and then hung out with Heidi and her grandfather, watching Spring come to the Swiss mountains. I've not only traveled the world, I've traveled in time. Dickens took me to Victorian London, and then to Paris during the revolution. I've experienced both world wars, lived in a concentration camp, and helped to build the bridge over the River Kwai. I traveled west with Lewis and Clark, met the last of the Mohicans, floated down a river with Huck Finn, and spent a lot of time with Laura and Mary Ingalls. It's highly probable that I know the streets and businesses of Avonlea better than the town where I grew up, so much time did I spend there with Anne, spelled with an E. As if this were not enough, I have wrinkled time with Meg and Charles Wallace, seen the giant worms on the planet Dune, and hung out with Arthur Dent and Ford Prefect in their weird and wonderful travels. As you probably already know, it doesn't cost much to be so well traveled. All you need to do is open a book.

Banishing Hobbies

by Jeffe Kennedy

The Word Whore who picked this topic - and I'm not naming names - described this week's theme of Fetishes as "any object, activity, etc., to which one is excessively or irrationally devoted - our non-writing hobbies."

My first response is: um, non-writing hobbies?

I used to have hobbies. Lots of hobbies, actually. I had a flower garden so beautiful and extensive it made the town Garden Tour. (Okay, it was a small town, but, hey...) I spent most of every warm-weather weekend in the garden, building character. Of course we had a shorter growing season than Fairbanks, Alaska, but there it is.

Since we moved to Santa Fe and have our self-sustaining xeriscape? Not so much.

Sewing used to be a huge part of my life, which included a near-obsessive habit of collecting fabric. I quilted. A lot. I even made a king-sized wedding ring quilt for one of my college roomies.

When we moved, I gave away the sewing machine and all but one trunk of fabric.

I practiced martial arts for many years, probably spending about 25 hours a week taking and teaching classes, not counting time spent training on my own. Now I do a little Tai Chi and meditate here and there.

I spent a lot of time in the past fixing up the house. I laid tile. David and I renovated a coal bin into an office. I painted walls, installed fixtures, repaired furniture. The new house? Haven't painted a thing.

All of that has been replaced by writing time. It became necessary, really. I needed to pick up my pace of writing, to concentrate more on longer stories. My day job already consumes a huge chunk of time. Everything else now goes to writing.

With one exception.

It's an old fetish, one I can never give up. I became addicted to little pieces when I was very young - I blame my mother. She'd give me some before bedtime, then I started sneaking it on my own. I've lost sleep over it, ignored friends and family, failed exams because I just had to have a little more.

Oh yeah - you all know what I mean.

Ah, reading. I shall never, ever give you up!