#WordWeavers 2405.17 — Have you ever written for other age groups? (MG, YA, A)
My publisher pegged me as a YA writer. Lately, I've been pushing the envelope to adult in general, and in particular writing an erotic fantasy as one of the WiPs. It can all change in revision, of course...
#PennedPossibilities 317 — What clothing materials or outfits feel the most comfortable to your villain?
She was arguably a villain, and she got a thuggish prizefighter to try to kill the MC. She also tried to help a coup d'etat in the mob, which failed. The MC meet her in an alley when the MC dissed her gang boyfriend and she tried to slit her throat. The MC took away her ivory handled jackknife, which becomes a character by itself in later stories. She goes by the moniker of Mustang, maybe because like the car she's unsteerable?
She's described as
"The women looked overly girly in garish reds or pinks, with matching makeup and bracelets, except for a buzzed-cut blonde tanned woman [Mustang] who wore brass stud piercings. (Didn't brass have lead in it...? Poisonous... Oh, never mind.) It worked; she looked tough, more so maybe than her gold chain-wearing boyfriend in a white tee shirt."
We're talking cotton here. Cheap. She's wearing something tight and black around her hips.
W ramach wskrzeszania wymarłych gatunków, na wymarłego bloga wrzuciłem notkę o "Wścieku" Magdaleny Salik - (post) cyberpunkowym thrillerze climate fiction z wątkiem obyczajowym. Aczkolwiek w notce skupiam się tylko na wątkach klimatycznych.
"Magic Moon" - Der 14. Captain-Future-Roman gehört zu denjenigen Erzählungen, die bislang nicht ins Deutsche übersetzt worden sind - dafür aber wurde er als Animé-Episode verfilmt (Titel: "Die Rolle seines Lebens")...
The fourth chapter of Stardust: Labyrinth is out! After the minor setback in the third chapter, the group ventures deeper into the eponymous labyrinth, and the sheer scale of the complex becomes apparent...
#WordWeavers 2405.16 — If your characters were in a museum, how would they act?
It would depend on how they ended up in the museum. If the devil-girl were put on display, it would end badly for whomever put her there. Were she a patron, she'd be indistinguishable from the crowd. Once she got herself into a sealed vault without breaking in or using the vault door; the interior turned out to be somewhat of a museum (it had family pictures), but she didn't steal anything. It did help her solve a kidnapping, however.
#WritersCoffeeClub Ch 9 Nbr 15 — Have you ever attended a writer's fair / festival to promote your work? Would you?
I haven't.
I consider it if it were for the trade, that is for writers, publishers, and booksellers. If it were for the general public, considering that I feel knowing my gender could add a subtext to my stories I don't want, I'd have to think long and hard of the benefits of attending.
#WordWeavers 2405.15 — Who are your most and least gullible characters?
Of the MC's in the two current WiPs, it's exactly the opposite of what you might think.
The devil-girl had been very successful in most all her endeavors, but she'd never gotten to where she was if she wasn't used by someone every... single... time. Mind you, it doesn't always end well for those who gulled her!
Wintereyes comes across as an ingénue and innocent enough that you'll fear she'll get used like a tissue and thrown away dirtied. Not the case. She mediated between a dragon and a farmer whose silo got burnt down. The dragon apologized! (So did the farmer.) She's observant, quiet. Around people she's shy, but says what she sees and sets misunderstandings straight. Kind and helpful, everyone—humans, dragons, wolves, even cats—ends up doing what she sees is best for them and they like it, despite plans they might have had for her. Because she understands what she doesn't know, her skepticism and guilelessness plays havoc on those trying to use her.
#PennedPossibilities 316 — Does your MC or SC have a hard time connecting with others?
Both MCs in the current two WiPs have a hard time connecting with others for different reasons. They could be summed up for one they're people and for the other they're not animals.
If you've followed my posts, you're welcome to guess which is which.
Gift article from my Washington Post account: “…a lot of science fiction novels are exploring a scary post-climate-change future. Meanwhile, the best recent fantasy books have abandoned George R.R. Martin-style darkness, embracing a gentle sweetness instead. This month’s books provide some outstanding examples of each trend.”
#PennedPossibilities 315 — What smells remind your MC of their childhood? CW: Food, gross.
Two stories, two MCs, two very different answers...
Devil-girl:
She was not ever particularly copasetic with her elevation from middle class to atmospheric. When she found herself having mistreated a servant, threatening their livelihood, her autistic construction of empathy as in /I'm living in her shoes and this is fear/ kicked in. She worked hard from that moment on to /be/ with anyone humbly, and the servants kept her secret of visiting in their quarters or at the homes safe. (Actually, not entirely as the servant-mistake was one of her guardian's "lessons," but let's ignore that.) What she came to adore was a peasant bread that represented in her head getting away from all her responsibilities. Buttery, cinnamony, yeasty, with lots of honey and chopped up pumpkin. Passing by an open bakery door will often remind her of simpler times.
Wintereyes:
She doesn't remember a lot before her gift manifested at age 7. The going theory is that it broke something in her head. Farm smells, flowers, even fields of corn, elicit nothing, though she visits her birth parents' land claim regularly when the Blue Feather's pack hunting grounds shift to that part of the Fell Woods. Her mother's cooking in her kitchen, usually fresh venison or rabbit Wintereyes caught, is simply human food. How she survived going off with a wolf pack at that young age is a tale I should pursue at some point. The fact is that she did. Survive. And well. The smells of a fresh kill, laced with steaming iron scent, does make her remember becoming wild and first running free. It also reminds her of the other smells associated with recent death, some quite noisome. There's a thrill there, even if in the beginning she was barely surviving on too rich organ meat her teeth could chew, or when the alpha wasn't kind, meat Mother Wolf chewed for her. That was a special smell she remembers fondly. Her brother—a hunter that the wolves soon tolerated so long as he didn't visit often—taught her to make fire and to cook meat. The half-burned smell of meat dropped into a wood fire still makes her mouth water, even as it dredges up memories of reaching into a fire and burns, and of ashes and charcoaled fat, which ground in her teeth like soft sand. She became a much more skillful campfire cook out of necessity.
Oh, one other smell: Wet wolf (which is identical to wet dog), because while a wolf could keep themself "clean" with their tongue, the result of a human attending a kill, skin caked with ground-in dirt, sweat, and later ash, was more than the sensitive noses of her pack could stand. They often chased her into streams. She splashed them back, of course!