The future of the future?

Almost every writer I know sets Google alerts for her/his name and book titles. I do. I want to hear what people are saying about my books. Lately, the alerts have directed me to illegal download sites as well as the usual blog reviews, bookclub discussions and fan comments. As of this morning, I have seen stats claiming that my Resurrection of Magic books have been downloaded over 60,000 times.

Free.
Wow.
I am not a cave-dwelling preservationist, I am a futurist. I am fascinated with the rapid-change era I live in and can easily see many human advantages to being able to access all the arts free of payment. But…wow. So I whined a little on Twitter. ((One of the many good things about Twitter is that even whining must be brief.))

I tweeted that I'd spent the morning a little sad over downloads. Neil Gaiman , a writer I admire a great deal, a man who has 1,480,401 (so far) people who follow his every word and drown him in tweets, somehow noticed and answered my whine:

Neilhimself @kdueykduey I don't mind downloads. I figure nobody who's going to buy something won't, and it just makes readers. Your mileage may vary.

Which is pretty much what I think when I can stop multiplying my royalty rate by 60,000 and let my brain kick in again. It's easier for Neil to say because of his income level, but I think he's right. I also think there is no turning back so I intend to look forward. Cory Doctorow, ((a visionary SF author, journalist, BigBrain, and very nice guy)) drove his publishers crazy putting up whole books to download on his website. But then his book sales went up. WAY up. Word of mouth matters.

So here’s the deal. If you download my work for free, and you like it, do me a favor.
Talk about it.
Tell everyone you know how interesting and odd the books are.
I promise to write more.

Then, consider getting the next book at your local library--also free, and a great place to meet the other reader-teens in your area. Camp by the YA section and see what happens. And when you are happily dating someone who is both hot and your intellectual equal...

Go here:
http://www.kathleenduey.com/
click “contact”
And thank me.


The picture is of Volubilis, the southernmost limit of ancient Roma, as far south as they ever got, in what is now Morocco. They did not have free, stolen, downloads but figured out much worse ways to screw over their artists.

writingwritingwriting

I have a very good excuse for not posting here lately  No. Wait, I have TWO very good excuses.

The first one is that I am writing like a maniac and you will thank me for that later, I think, because the third book of the trilogy is getting amazing....

Second, I am traveling a lot and had to deal with a nasty flu after my last trip. I am almost completely over it YAY.
It was *awful*. 

Back to work,
(me, I mean, you are free to play if you like)

WRITING UPDATES w/writing insights

NEWEST ENTRY July 6

People have asked me to write a project log again and to incorporate writing insights if I can. I appreciate the suggestion. I am so wrapped up in the current book projects that I have neglected le blog.

NO SPOILERS will be included.

Several book projects will be represented.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

July 6 2010: Beautiful Writing and Something Even Better:


For me, the best books have always been the ones that let me forget I am reading. I love beautiful writing, the grace of the unexpected and perfect word, the dance of language. I am a fan of the goofy-smart-ass-hyphenate. But I love beautiful writing most when it isn't so flashy that it requires me to stop and admire it--and its author. If I am admiring (and probably envying) the writing, I have remembered I am reading, that this place and these people aren't real.

I can imagine the writer's joy at finding that perfect sentence and I can carefully re-read that astounding description of a house, a torn glove, a rainstorm. But if I have stepped out of the story to appreciate awesome facility of language, then I have probably lost the vague ache in my heart, the one echoing the protagonist's ache.

Chances are I will flip back a few pages to read another lovely bit of writing I had noticed, but that hadn't stopped me in my tracks and I can only now fully appreciate. And from there I might reread the bio on the jacketflap, then set the book down, remembering that I have a deadline, a dinner to start, a dog to bathe.

There are nearly infinite kinds of beautiful writing. I love them all, but I prefer the ones that don't interfere with the story. It is one of my current writing goals: I want to write literary page turners. To that end, this morning, I cut a scene by more than half. This is what made the cut (so far anyway, this is second draft text:)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Walking light-footed, almost running in the moonlight, she was halfway up the hill when she saw a lantern in the window and knew Sully was awake. Good. But then the door banged open and she heard someone stumbling down the steps, someone tall, doubled over, making a hoarse, sucking sound that terrified her. Eric?

She stopped, staring as Sully pounded across his porch, vaulted the rail and hit the ground running. He was fast enough to get one strong arm around his son's shoulders. For an instant she felt a twist of hope, then realized Eric was limp, folding up. She winced when Sully lost his balance and sat down hard in the dirt, still trying to straighten the tangle of legs and arms, to hold Eric close. When he couldn’t, Sully arched backward, screaming at the sky until his breath was gone. Then he sorted out the mess and began to rock what was left of his boy. She sat down in the wet grass to wait.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sunday, June 20,  A Resurrection of Magic, Book #3 (which will not yet tell me its name)

Started reading from the beginning to make sure the dual pacing works before I go on.  Adding a chapter in one story means I have to add one in the other story and that can be maddening because the stories interlock...sometimes...and are on sliding timelines, Sadima's is MUCH longer than Hahp's.

 I stalled on the first chapter of Hahp's story as I eliminated what has to be the 10th layer of my desperate attempt to fill in the backstory. There is no better argument for "show don't tell"  than the first 2-4 chapters of any trilogy book, especially #3.

Here are two excerpts;
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Sadima's story is the odd-numbered chapters, Hahp's are the even numbers.
Chapter 2  (My first draft of Hahp, written many months ago: )

I could hear Gerrard's breathing, steady, quiet, as if nothing had happened, nothing that mattered enough to keep him awake. He had said more than once that he was a South End orphan. And at first, I had been sure he was lying. How would an orphan end up here, in the most expensive academy in Limori? And why would a beggar boy know how to read? Reading had been forbidden for commoners for most of the city's history. Now the high price of education accomplished the same goal. Commoners couldn't read; beggar boys least of all. But if Gerrard was lying, why had he smelled like South End--like fish and sweat--on our first day here?

My father had taken me to the slum of South End only a few times. It stank. The ragged children pressed up against the carriage as the pony began to trot, his head high, ready to fly when the coachman loosened the reins. The children were pleading, holding out their dirty hands, begging us for a coin. My mother wept. My father ignored them like a stable hand ignores flies, like he ignored me. Did he ever think about me now? Or was he too busy overseeing his ships, his fortune--busy being cruel to his servants, his wife. 

I turned over, then back again, wishing the wizards would just punish us. Or at least indicate somehow that they had found proof of what we had done.(altered). But they had never concerned themselves with helping anyone get through anything. They withheld food, over and over, not caring when some of the students died. And if what Somiss had said was true--all the parents had known they might never see their sons again. So no one cared about me. Not even my own father.

Gerrard stirred, then quieted. I turned my head toward his cot and realized I was had been staring into the darkness. I closed my eyes again. The little chamber seemed even quieter than usual.  But everything here was hushed, every birdsong, every wolf's cry, every storm was silenced by the endless passages that wormholed the dark stone cliff. I had seen the sun only once since my father had brought me here--the day Jux allowed me to fly.  I still longed to do it again. Just once more, before the wizards decided to kill all of us. And they would. They would have to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As it reads this morning:

Chapter 2

It was pitch dark. I could hear the mouse still trying to find a way out. I had made it a bigger box, but it hadn’t helped. I hated the sound of its toenails on the blood-flecked wood. I just wanted to let it go, but I was afraid to.


I fed it fruit, cheese, and bread. I always brought back more than I needed from the food hall and I always left it in plain sight. Gerrard hadn't touched it. He was stick-thin and I was almost sure he wasn’t eating anything. He was the only one who hadn’t yet passed the last test, except Luke, but that hardly mattered now.

Gerrard stirred beneath his blanket. I heard his cot ropes creak, then the easy rhythm of his breathing.
He was sound asleep.

I hated him for that. I hadn’t slept through the night in a long time. And once I was awake, I felt lost in the  stone passages that wormholed the cliff. I felt the silent pressure of the still, stale air. And I couldn’t stop remembering.

The wizards had taught us that. Memory—exact, detailed memory. So I could see Luke, his face half in lamplight, half in darkness. I could count the beads of sweat on his forehead. And I could hear the sound of my own voice, soft, calm, sincere.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

June 24:

Working on two things today, the third of the Resurrection of Magic trilogy and a young MG novel I am still struggling to find a voice for. Yesterday I took half a day to do a ms consult for someone I met at a conference in FL. She is a good writer and a lovely person. The missing ingredient in her story was a firm point of view in the text. I see this a lot. Here is the 10 second demo (not excerpts from current work, I am making these up) why VP is usually better:

   Narrator's voice:
         The air was hot and damp. The clouds were so thick it was eerie. It looked like the kind of rainstorm that usually meant spectacular lightning and thunder, but this time it wouldn't. Tory and James both knew they had no time to rest. They would either make it to Franklin's Bend before the storm hit or everything they were doing, everything Greg had done, would be for nothing. Faces beaded with sweat, they kept going, dropping back into a plodding jog to catch their breath, then running again. When James couldn't keep up, Tory went on, glancing only once at the unatural, darkening sky.

Same Scene, Tory's voice:
       Tory's eyes stung from the salt in her own sweat. James was slowing down. She could hear his heavy footsteps behind her, the sharp gasping of his breath. She dropped back to a jog again. She had no idea how much farther Franklin's Bend was, but it didn't matter. If James couldn't keep up, she would have to leave him behind. She had to get there in time to warn everyone to stay inside, to make them understand this wasn't  a rainstorm. If she didn't, Greg would be just one more casualty instead of a hero who had died to save everyone he loved.
       Tory refused to cry. This was the only gift she could give her brother now. She wiped her face on her sleeve and broke back into a run. She heard James shout, but she kept going . When she finally glanced up at the sky, she almost stumbled. The storm was coming in fast, straight overhead, and the clouds were black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

June 26, 2010

Another show-don't-tell example--even when you are working in an insanely massive backstory, it's better to show and imply:

Bad first version:

    Sadima missed South End sometimes. The Eridian meetings in the little apartment over Charlies' cheese shop had saved her life, her heart. For the first time since his death, she had been able to laugh, to cry--at least for a while. She knew it was only a matter of time before the women who had become her sisters realized  that she wasn't getting older. Once they did, they would know that magic had been worked upon her. She was doing everything she could to keep them from noticing, using the khol she had bought in South End and wearing drab clothes. But they would notice, evenually. She could only hope that they wouldn't blame her for it, that the friends she loved wouldn't hate her for what she could not even remember.

She got up and set about her chores...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Current, better (not final yet) version:

    Sadima put kindling into her woodstove, stirring the ashes, baring the hot coals, and opened the flue wide. Then she carried her kitchen bucket out to the well. Coming back, she heard children’s voices, high-pitched, happy, and a moment later, the sound of someone whistling, walking the path that ran past her little house. The settlement was waking up. She belonged here. Whatever she couldn’t remember mattered less than her love for this place and these people. Far less.

Back inside, the fire crackling, Sadima warmed water to wash her face. While her skin was still wet, she dabbed moistened kohl around her eyes to make grayish shadows. Looking into her little mirror, she squinted a hundred times to make natural looking lines as the khol dried, then used a light dusting of finely ground chalk to pale her rosy cheeks and lips.  As she buttoned her modest gray dress and assumed the hunched posture she wore all day, she forced herself to think about things she had pushed aside. She had debts to pay.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Excuses, Excuses...

Three people have emailed this week to make sure I am all right. Four or five more have written missives asking me when I will get to whatever it was I said I would do...months ago. Russet http://russet-one-wing.blogspot.com/ fans are asking when that story will continue. ((Soon, soon.))

My first book cover,
copyright Sergio Giovine
http://www.sergioillustration.com/

So...I am behind on everything. There are a pile of reasons, mostly small ones, but they have added up. So I am not all caught up with finished manuscripts and traveling this summer as I thought I would be. I am traveling, as planned, not missing appearances, but once home, I am pretty much chained to my desk trying to meet re-set deadlines. In a few months, things will be less crowded...YAY!! So I apologize if I haven't answered your email or returned your calls. I will, I will...

TEACHER APPRECIATION WEEK

Mrs. Fredericksen taught 4th , 5th and 6th graders in a tiny school. She gave many of us unique, tailored, special assignments. Mine, for all three years, was to write a story a week.


Mr. Doohan crammed 36 weeks of high school grammar, composition writing, and other required studies into six weeks so we could read glorious books and poetry the rest of the year. The Hunting of the Snark (An Agony in 8 Fits), Pride and Prejudice, The Invisible Man… I will always hear his voice in my head as he paced, shouting and whispering the courtroom scene in To Kill A Mockingbird.

They were both getting old when I was in their classrooms. I never went back to tell them how much they had shaped me. So I use their names in my novels. And during school visits, I look around for the best teachers, the ones who shine, the ones the kids obviously love, respect, listen to, trust...and I thank *them*.


** The classroom in the picture is in Abu Dhabi.  International schools, oh, yes, I will fly anywhere! Call me**

Faeries and Unicorns

Lord Dunraven forbids people and magical creatures to have any contact at all. He is convinced that people who see dragons sail past overhead, or glimpse a unicorn in the woods, or hear faerie flutes on the light air of morning, are more likely to daydream--and less likely to work from dawn to dark.

When I was in 3rd and 4th grade, I dreamed about Lord Dunraven's lands every night for a year and a half. I would close my eyes here and wake up *there*. And when I lay down to sleep in the dream, I would open my eyes *here*.  It was seamless. I had two lives.

I have written two series based on those dreams:

The Unicorn's Secret (8 titles) is getting flashy-lovely new covers to celebrate 10 wonderful years in print.
The Faeries' Promise (4 titles) is almost finished.

The first Faeries' Promise title and two Unicorn's Secret titles will release together in June 2010. The rest will follow soon.

The lovely covers and chapter excerpts are here: http://kathleenduey.com/KidsBooks/

The book I write, the book you read...and the real wars.

Home from San Antonio, it was a wonderful conference! Hundreds of teens were invited by their libraries, so I got to talk to a lot of kids who had read or were reading The Resurrection of Magic books. I carried books with me, as always, and extra ones for the Teen Book Drop http://bit.ly/cxAYH8  and placed them  here and there….

One boy (about halfway through Sacred Scars) was concerned about Sadima. He was hoping that Thomas Marsham would leave her alone and that Somiss would never find her. He sounded protective, angry, like she was his sister and he would stand between her and anyone who tried to hurt her. When he was through talking, he stared at me. "Marsham and Somiss are both still alive in Book three," I said, finally, quietly. He tightened his mouth, nodded, asked me to write faster, then walked away.

One girl hated Franklin, because he could and should have killed Somiss when they were boys, she said. We talked about it, about how hard it would really be, to be a child faced with another child who was that strange/smart/dangerous--and how Somiss and Franklin are, in their sad, distorted way, brothers.

Three girls stood in a line before me and talked to each other, arguing over whether or not Gerrard was really from South-End, or if he had made up everything he told Hahp. I am still not sure. I don't know how Gerrard knows what he knows. I told the girls that he is the most interesting character for me; he rarely talks to me, in my head, or through my fingers and the keyboard. He is silent, angry, stiff, fierce, and, I think, scared.

…..And on the last day, in the airport, I saw a young man crying. I sat near him and after a few minutes asked him if there was anything I could do to help. He looked up and said this: "Can you make this deployment go fast?"

I put out my hand and he gripped it hard for a little while. Then he sat up straighter, squared his shoulders and hauled in that long breath, the universal human sound of acceptance and determination. We talked a little. He was carrying a book. He said he liked dark fantasy. I had one copy of Skin Hunger left in my backpack, so I signed it for him. Actually, I signed it to anyone who might read it because he said people always leave their books behind when they go home, to build a library for the incoming soldiers. Being a writer has made me a better human being--one of a thousand perks.

No matter how you feel about the wars our country is engaged in: http://www.anysoldier.com/WhereToSend/

TEEN BOOK DROP

TEEN BOOK DROP!!

On April 15th, I will be finding places in San Antonio TX to leave books for teens to find.
There are many ways to participate in the fabulous event.  The amazing READERGIRLZ explain it all here.

When to stop....and where...

Last night I stopped writing in the middle of a scene. I often do, it saves me the "blank page doldrums" that can somehow take a perfectly normal-length morning and make it disappear without producing a single word. But last night I wasn't ready to stop writing. I quit because the story was dragging me in a direction that flummoxed me.


I know this happens to every writer now and then. It's happening to me more and more often. I think it means that I am finally past the point where I am thinking about craft--or anything else--while I write. It feels more like I am watching the characters, following them around.

I went back and reread it the moment I got up this morning and it now seems inevitable. Of course. Nothing else could have happened.

So: conscious effort-0
Getting myself out of the way-1

April 8th and wondering...

Most writers have too many ideas. I certainly do. I am in the end stages of the four Faeries Promise books for younger readers. I LOVE the way they have turned out and I love the covers.  And within 3-4 months, the last of the Resurrection of Magic books will be finished.  And THEN what?

I feel like a cartoon character at a crossroads, staring at one of those old  fashioned posts bristling with little signs, angled in a dozen different directions.

MARCH WRITING REPORTS

The image is from http://www.kathleenduey.com/ Theo Black created it as downloadable wallpaper. It is the pattern of the Eridian tattoos which were not part of the books until cover artist David Ho added them to the sketches for the cover of Skin Hunger, which made me find a place for them in the story.... Thanks, David!



3/15/2010
Stuff happened. The whole day turned upside down. But I still wrote about 10 pages. Today, I pin the ending on it. THEN back to Limori full (or nearly full) time tomorrow. I love these Faerie books, but I am really looking forward to getting back to the trilogy. So many unaswered questions. I don't know who Gerrard is, how he knows what he knows. And I think the answer is not the obvious one.

3/14/2010 My subconscious seems to know that today should be the last day writing The Faeries Promise: The Full Moon (and I LOVE the ending now). But as I work, like, every ten minutes, I have to grab the digicorder and outline things that are coming to me about Sadima, about how something she did almost 200 years ago is pivotal to what she is doing NOW. I can't wait to be full time on A Resurrection of Magic again. Tomorrow should be the day! Thanks to everyone contacting me about the books. I can't tell you how much it helps me  write.

3/5/2010 After three tries, I think I have the ending paced out now.  The back-up-and-rewrite will be a hard slog, but worth it.

3/4 Off to a slow start today, but a start nonetheless.  Alida is caught between tradition and revolution for the faeries--and afraid of both.


3/2/2010  7:07 pm
I am nearly finished with The Faeries Promise.  ((How many times have I said this??)).  Welcome to the Land of Writing.  Nothing here goes as planned. Time is like taffy and calendars are often useless. I didn't cause the delay and can only work long hours and hope to keep up.

Mornings are going to the faeries,  I spend afternoons and evenings in the city of Limori . Sadima, Hahp and Gerrard--who remains a mystery to me--are coming closer and closer together in time. I am about to go back to them now...

Robin Wasserman has been interviewed about the inspiration/origin of her book Skinned, and more. She says very nice things about my books, too, which means a great deal to me, coming from a writer I admire.

back to work.

writing writing writing YES I am...

I will be keeping track of my writing days again for a while. I don't have time for much else...

2 /25/ 2010  A distracted and distracting day full of good phone calls and very little writing. I did get a great idea for Free Rat midday, while digging weeds in the little jungle. Lots of stuff coming through the new website now I am findable again...and now, to write as much as I can before bed.

2/23/9:46 am   I just finished set pages on Faeries Promise #1 Silence and Stone. It looks lovely! Am close to finishing #4 The Full Moon. Can't wait to have my whole brain back on the third Resurrection of Magic Book. This morning, I reread a paragraph I type-scribbled last night in a yawningblurrstupor. It doesn't fit with *anything* but ...it kicked open a door. Looks like the strange love story is ON. And now I must write it with a tenderness of bruised-hearts despair---because it couldn't happen any other way.

2/22 2010  6: 12 pm Went over the set pages for the first Faeries Promise book: Silence and Stone. Copyedits next, then pass pages. I REALLY like the way these books are growing up...and now,for the rest of tonight, back to Limori.

2/21/ 2010 6: 15  I am writing and writing and some of it is beginning to fit together. And, for some reason, YA/adult novel ideas are pouring out of me. I stop and type them until my fingers stop, name them and save them. Most will suck when I reread notes/listen to the voice files. But some won't. More and more often, three or four of them grow together, like trees that touch. I am learning to name and rename the files in a way that lets me see this process.  Winnowing will be the hard part.  Back to the faeries....

2/20 2010  6:35 am: Nice long talk with my agent yesterday morning...trying to lay out the projects for the coming year.  I worked all day yesterday on the Faerie book and have the first half in lovely shape (60 pg ms). After that it mushes out and spins. So today....I make ginger tea (fresh ginger, grated into the steamy water) then I haul plot...

2/19 2010
Late last night, following Somiss down an alley in South End, I found out two things: first that the criminal branch of the Marsham family tree has a vested interest in his ability to keep the city-kingdom in chaos; and second, that he has a longing I would never have expected.

2/16 2010
After 2 trips and a week of uneasy mulling, I am back to full speed ahead on The Faeries Promise: The Full Moon/. It's the last of  a four-title 2-4th grade fantasy series. It is set in the same place as The Unicorn's Secret, an 8 book series getting new covers and a relaunch this Spring after 10 years in print.  My never-ending website building experience continues....http://kathleduey.com will soon include art and excerpts of both series.
.
I love these books. Lord Dunraven writes a law that forbids people to have contact with magical creatures and the repercussions echo for a hundred years.

Mars, Venus, you know the tune...

Collaboration is tricky...


The original execise was probably in 1997, according to Snopes. There are embelished versions online and a few are a little funnier, but this appears to be the original and it is amazing enough for me. How quickly jibing turns into hostility...
http://www.csun.edu/~dgw61315/tandem.html (a little crude language.)




.

Current Projects Update:

The Faeries Promise: Aladdin Books 2010:
Lord Dunraven's old law separates people from magical beings. The faeries are hiding, hoping the humans will join them to defeat Dunraven’s guards.

A Resurrection of Magic #3 (still untitled) : Atheneum Books: 2011
Sadima and Hahp are trying to survive what they have caused. It seems impossible that either one can live, never mind both. But maybe. If they can get help.

Read now, online: Russet
Russet is running from his father, from the man with one wing, from his own crazy past: http://russet-one-wing.blogspot.com/

Up Next:

A Virgin’s Blood
A desperate girl lives in a slum, a favella that is growing daily as refugees pour in. She won't tell me her name, but I know she is planning on selling her blood.  I have met the old man who will drink it, and I have seen his stone house, near the river. There are rooms without windows.

Free Rat
Small is in the dome in the desert. The world is falling apart beyond the white walls. He has almost figured out how to escape. Almost.

B.
B. hates the name her parents came up with: Berendina Pumpernickle. She is in the grocery store with her mother, hoping no one from school sees her, that her mother doesn’t do something silly, and that no one ever finds out how weird her family really is...


.

Miami: writers, alligators, sky mirrors

This is the Everglades. A tiny little portion of them, I mean. I was in Miami for a writers' conference and was treated to an airboat ride. Somehow I never knew the Everglades is a river. There is a steady, slow, slow current. So many interesting residents there. Birds, turtles, and the alligators (the guide said) have survived two ice ages. They have brains the size of a peanut. So really, what is my excuse? This big glop of stuff between my own ears and just a puny little economic recession to make it through?

I will be back in FL in June, then again in October for The Miami Bookfair.

. click the photo to enlarge it...there are clouds in the water and an egret in the grass. I think it's a grackle, flying away, away, away....

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!!!

If enough of us clasp hands and agree that we don't have to believe the hatreds that we were taught, everything will be all right. Each person is responsible for at least that much. But if you have time, help someone else along. It's going to take all of us, focused and active, to clean up the mess we have helped make. I say let's start now....

HAPPY NEW YEAR to all the humans and everyone else on the planet.

IT'S ABOUT TIME? (for a new post)

I am falling behind on everything webbish, I know that. But I am getting books written and that has to count for something.

Thanks to everyone nudging me to write faster, to get back to Russet. Thanks to the people saying they can't wait for the third Resurrection of Magic book. And I love each and every adult who is excited to read the Faeries Promise (releasing in Spring 2010) because they loved The Unicorn's Secret--even though both series are written for gradeschool kids.

May all your holidays be warm and full of love.

And now, back to work.

Writing Progress, all current projects.

updated 10/27
I am so preoccupied with the writing of the third book of the Resurrection of Magic trilogy that I am not writing blog posts (or anything else) very often. I will be MUCH more interesting in a few months. Until then, I think I will start putting my FB writing dailies up here, too. All in this one post, I mean. I will keep adding them to the bottom--you can read downward, oldest first, so it makes SOME sense.....it's just a sketchy little writing diary as I wade through this third, complicated book:

((adding this later. I am now (11/7) splitting days between two projects
and the updates include The Faerie's Promise, book 3 Wishes and Wings))

10/10
Just made the *best* connection in the book. One of those things that drops into place like it has been machined into 1/1000th centimeter tolerance and fits! Oh I love my job.

10/11
Good morning, Richard is sick and I kiss him a lot, but I am hoping... Still flying on the third book of the trilogy--can't wait to go to work. LOVE the new covers for The Unicorn's Secret and The Faeries Promise, releasing spring 2010. New website coming up~~wrote the bio: I have such a weird life. Adult and YA readers: the experiment is working better than I ever thought possible. http://russet-one-wing.blogspot.com/

10/12
I was awake between 3:00 and 5:30 whispering into my digicorder and walking the dark house back to front...staring at the moon through the trees. The book is getting deeper and wider.

10/13
I am writing like mad, like MAD, I tell you. It is an undescribable high when it comes this fast.....

10/13
Maybe getting what Richard has, coughing a little ...gave up on sleep at 4:30, have been working since. I'm writing Sadima's story but have to switch soon. Hahp's story interlocks; I must make them fit. The timelines--200 years apart in the first book-- are now within 40 years of concurrent. Sadima is fighting to stay whole: The boys are capable of anything at this point. Anything. So who knows? Not me. I love my job.

10/14
Another good day yesterday, two chapters added (they are short chapters, so about 3800 words.) I hope to add two more today. This helps make up for all the stare at the wall days...I had to spend time trying to get started! Today I will leave Sadima at a delicate... and painful.... crossroads to go see if Hahp and Gerrard are starting to see past the craziness...

10/15
The TLA panel I will be on: Cory Doctorow, Matt de la Pena, Chris Crutcher, Shannon Hale and me. And Ellen Hopkins tells me she and Sonya Sones will be on a panel with Lisa Shroeder. That is a lot of YA amazingness all at once. TLA should be huge fun this year. (adding this later, also Jenni Holm is coming. YAY!)

10/15
Here for two minutes, apologies to the people I am not responding to for real-time chat... I have to seriously WRITE now...in a few months will have a little more time to play...NEW WEBsite coming soon...YAY!!

10/16
The nameless book three is flying. Which is good. Because it took a long time to START flying. But, of all things, there appears to be a love story emerging. Maybe. I can't quite tell yet. A really really REALLY weird one.

10/17
Just wrote a really good chapter. Let the twists begin!!!

10/18
Today (In the unnamed book I am being eaten by) two people will be face to face who have not seen each other in 10 years. I am afraid that one will not be honest about where and why and what and who...and that the other one won't see the lies because of fear and exhaustion. Not just yet, anyway.

10/19
I left off writing last night at a really critical part of an emotional (for Sadima and me) scene. I never finish a chapter, so I always have a pick-up point in the writing, not a cold start, first thing in the morning... and this morning, I will be walking back into a maelstrom ...


10/19
Just got a bad review in a major journal. First one. Ouch. Major complaints, "nothing much happens" and "nothing is explained" in Sacred Scars. Well the last thing is sort of true. But MUCH is intimated....

10/20
I apologize for the whining. I am a little stressed, I think. Giant dreadlines are far to close....So I am off to write. The weird love story is looking more likely. I just...? It really is odd...but kind of wonderful, too.

10/22
Spent some time with the boys inside the cliff and then found a yogi who would talk to me about levitation, how it feels, how it clicks inside, clicks into place, how belief that one can do things is pivotal in doing them....and then I started thinking about how the magic in Limori would be shaped in order to make this possible: http://www.vimeo.com/1778399wingsuit base jumping
Source: vimeo.com

10/23
Woke up with a little avalanche of revelations about something in Limori that has puzzled me lately. As you may know, there were no libraries in that mostly illiterate city except the royal one, which should have fallen into the hands of the magistrates when the last king was dethroned. But it didn't, and now I know where all those books are. Of course.

10/24
Sadima has not been to South End in years. This morning, she is on the long road from the countryside into the city of Limori. She has two graves to visit, rent money to collect, a cypress tree to find and a man she must deal with. One way or another.

10/25
What happens in South End...stays in South End? Not this time. Sadima visited the graves and went to the meeting hall, where Thomas spoke so often. It's locked up; a broken window; a man in a red tunic seemed to have the keys. But about an hour later, in the middle of a cobblestone street, near what was once her cheese shop, something happened to Sadima that has changed everything.

10/26
Two stories, 200 years apart. The first story causes the second, and by the middle of this last book of the trilogy, the time gap will have closed. The stories are about 30 years apart now. I often write 5-10 chapters of one strand, then switch. Sadima's story is at a resting point, so I will go back to Hahp and Gerrard now. Somiss seems to be gone. Why? Is it a chance or a trap...I will begin to find out today.

10/27
I ended up following Sadima through a very long and very hard night. And now, TODAY, it's back into the maze of passages inside the cliffs...I am hoping the boys are alive, eating, reclaiming their humanity after what happened in Sacred Scars. There are only five of them alive now. Hahp, Gerrard, Will, Levin and Jordan.

10/28
Report from inside the cliffs: everyone is still alive and managing, but the simple logic of "pass or starve" is disintegrating. I have no idea why or what will be replacing it, if anything. I can't tell where Somiss is, but Hahp thinks something is wrong...so do I.

10/29
I am stopped cold this morning by a new idea. Will jot the thing down until the ideas dry up, then sprint back to Limori.

10/29
Ok, the new idea is written down and digicorded, therefore safe. I think it might be good. NOW off to Limori. As it turns out, most of the market-place fakers were performing metaphors for actual magic, a disguised art to survive the pograms/hangings. So Hahp is learning this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bqim3Y3ir2g&feature=related to prepare for the real stuff. I only hope I can describe it...

10/30
Today's chapter will have a terribly sad scene and I am procrastinating...but after that chapter comes one I have been waiting to write since I got the idea for these books 15 years ago...

10/31
The sad scene got written. Oh I cried. Then I had to do writerly nonwriting things (2 interviews, respond to emails, books flights for Jan FL writers intensive, etc, etc, ETC. and answer an email from an artist friend who is doing stage design for a play in China. Then I cut down more tree limbs. Today! Now! I write the long awaited scene of the beginners' exercises for the magic that underlies all other magic.

11/1
Sadima demanded my attention late last night. And when I add a chapter for her, I have to re-pace the Academy side of the story to add one there, too. Got up early and JUST finished the reordering. NOW I can reread the long awaited Franklin's New Class scene written yesterday morning. It came out faster than I could type, always a wonderful feeling. Next up: a midnight meeting. I think.


11/2
Ok. I have to split my time for a week in order to finish the third title of the Faeries Promise. So....Mornings= Faeries's Promise for 2-4th graders. The dark of night will be for the Limori Academy...As of last night I can only say that the forgotten half caved-in passages of the ancient smugglers' tunnels beneath the city of Limori are attracting street orphan "squatters" as the weather turns.

11/3
The Faeries Promise: faeries are forbidden contact with humans. Old Lord Dunraven made the laws. Without magic, people are dulled, easier to rule, better serfs. Alida was the hostage to ensure her family's exile, but Gavin, a human boy, has helped her escape. It's an apartheid story, in a way, both cultures damaged in isolation.

In Limori: it's all about trust. And shame. And secrecy. And juggling.

11/4
Two reactions to the odd love story emerging in the last trilogy book: The editor: "OOooooOOOoooooooooo...That could be INTERESTING!" The writer-friend whispered "Wow. Wow!! But...can you... DO that?" I think I can, I think I can, I think I can...and the characters want it. So this morning, I will write about faeries ...who want to go HOME. And then, in the dark of night, I will slide back to Limori...

11/5
The book with no name: It is raining in Limori today. Sadima is painting, crying. The street-rat kids are shivering and hungry. Inside the cliffs, no one can hear or even smell the rain. But they can hear screams.

People have asked about other projects. So there is a longer update below, then back to eensy ones tomorrow:

RUSSET:
Thanks for emailing and tweeting and FBing and etc…I will continue his story when I can scratch out the time to talk to him again, probably in a month or two. I am completely fascinated with him. He is trying to escape his ((crazy and/or abusive or non-human, or victimized, or reality-gamer ...or??) parents and the one-winged angels: but first he has to get to Stehekin before they do. It’s a real place. The story is here, free, incomplete but I think it is kind of amazing…http://russet-one-wing.blogspot.com/


A VIRGIN'S BLOOD:
This one is lurking at the edge of my thoughts most of the time. HUGE idea file now, many-many digicorder notes. Can't wait to write it.

FREE RAT:
The treatment is growing, expanding and the story is getting grittier and wilder. I will send it off to the incredibly patient agent (we talked about this at lunch in NYC in 2007) soon.

SHORT STORIES:
I have one included in an upcoming anthology edited by Holly Black and Justine Larbalestier. It's dark...about a unicorn who has lived too long. Many incredible writers are included.

(((The amazing editors: Holly's upcoming THE WHITE CAT is intricate, mysterious, creepy, set in a world almost like ours...*almost*. It stars a teen you can only love and worry about… first of a trilogy.

Justine's recent LIAR is getting stunning reviews, awards buzz, and amazing word of mouth recommendations. It is on my desk. I can't wait to read it.)))

OTHER SHORT STORIES
I am writing short stories set in Limori, the city of A RESURRECTION OF MAGIC for my website which is slowly being completely rehauled. It’s a mess right now. It will be awesome…And when the stories are up, I will announce it here.

Take Care, everyone, and now I have to get to work! Tomorrow's update will be tiny again...


11/7
Still splitting days. Faeries are on their way back to Ash Grove: Elders, adults, rambunctious faerie kids, babies, goats pulling stout wooden carts, a caravan of winged people--all walking. Midday, continued reading. From 5pm to eyes-are-closing-time, back to Limori. Sadima knows she is being manipulated but by whom? And why?


11/8
The Faeries are so much fun to spend time with, I had forgotten how much I love Lord Dunraven's lands. The setting is the same as The Unicorn's Secret. Alida is watching her mother try to settle an argument. (faeries are noisy and opinionated). In Limori, Hahp is following Gerrard, ducking back out of the cold-fire light when he stops...


11/9
Fairies are funny. Testy, argumentative, difficult, and interesting. Lovely break from the dark and silent world in the cliffs. And Sadima has a man in her house...

11/11
Focusing on faeries for a few days to make a deadline:
Faeries are standing still, breathing silently. The magic makes them invisible. But Dunraven's guards are off their horses now, staring into the trees...

11/13
In a meadow near Ash Grove, everything grows faster because the soil has absorbed magic for a thousand years. The townspeople suspect the faeries have come home. They are all so afraid of what will happen when Lord Dunraven finds out.
11/15
I am getting close to the end of Wishes and Wings. I am reading it through, from page one, then will write the last two chapters.....

11/ 24 Between the last update and this one, I have finished the third Faeries' Promise, book ((LOVE to click send!))....then slept a little, rose at 3:30 am to make an early flight to Philadelphia, appeared at NCTE, saw many writer-friends, met a few new ones whose work I admire (I love meeting authors), signed many books for many terrific teachers and librarians, did a nine-minutes-per-table-of-fifteen-educators speed-dating session, joined Zilpha Keatly Snyder and Michael Buckly at the Secret Garden Bookstores to meet teachers and sign books, then flew home last night. And now, back to work. Today I start the copyedits of "Silence and Stone", the first of the Faeries Promise books, then will begin, tomorrow, writing the fourth one in the mornings, devoting the nighttime hours to the last book of the Resurrection of Magic trilogy. There is a new interesting idea/thing pounding on the door that I will sketch out today. And there is Russet. He is talking again....

11/25 thru 11/27
Am trying to find a middle grade novel idea I can fall in love with to send an editor I REALLY want to work with. Can't find one yet. Keep coming up with great ready for chapters ideas instead. Also fiddling with three other things, sort of a holiday break and idea-fishing trip... Have to get back to REAL work soon. But wheeeee....this is nice.

11/28 Copyedit/final go-through on Silence and Stone today. Should get the copyedits of (book #2) Following Magic back next week. Wishes and Wings (book #3) is off to the editor. I will start writing the fourth one mid next week.

11/30
Good day yesterday: finished Silence and Stone copyedits (short book, 60 pages), wrote text and batched pictures for the website re-do, gave the Free Rat proposal a couple of hours, and recorded MANY ideas/insights for the third Resurrection of Magic trilogy book while doing yardwork. Today: First, the dried out, now lettuce-edged Following Magic copyedit. Tonight: Free Rat again, I think. Or back to Limori... ((added 12/1 : thanks to the people on FB and Twitter who voted for Limori. You won. Hahp and Gerrard are learning this a quickness of mind and body that astound me. And them.
2/3
I am not sure where yesterday went. But it is gone. This morning I have begun a final read thru of the Faeries Promise #2 copyedits. Noonish, I will begin the revision of #3, which UPS says is *almost* here... THEN, tonight, I intend to go visit Russet. Thanks to everyone who is nudging (and the few who are pummeling me) me to get back to it.

NORMA MAZER...

Norma Fox Mazer has passed away. There is a hole in my life, and in yours, too, whether you know it or not. A long time ago, I wrote her a fan letter. I was in the very early stages of my late-start writing career with two small books for beginning readers published. I wanted to write for young adults and I was looking for examples. My editor recommended Norma's masterful After The Rain.

I could only blink and wonder as I read the luminous last few pages. Norma had drawn a perfectly real life for her protagonist:

School, older-than-average parents, a PTSD-missing brother, eldercare for a grandfather so complex and so difficult that I loved and hated him, the kindness of strangers, the pitfalls of friendship, grief, deep, true self-discovery without a hint of sappiness, a sense of history and generations--all of that and a worthy boy to kiss. And the canvas wasn’t crowded.

After The Rain stunned and intimidated me into another ten years of skill-gathering before I would actually try to write YA. But I wrote my first “writer swoon” fan letter to Norma Mazer the day I finished her book. Imagine my amazement when she wrote me back.

We kept writing then began calling each other a few times a year. We finally met at an ALA in San Francisco and went to lunch and talked for two hours. We agreed on most things and argued with zest about what we didn't. And we kept crossing paths as writers do.

Norma and I were writer-friends. I met Harry, her wonderful (and a wonderful writer) husband, only once, also at a conference. We never visited each other's homes. But we shared similar sorrows in our lives, and we talked about them. I was always healed a little by her kindness and her generosity. I hope I gave her the same gift. I am sad and ashamed to admit that I had not contacted her for nearly two years. I don't know why. I would give anything to change that.

A few weeks ago, a twitter post written by Norma's daughter caught my eye. She was going home, she said, to spend time with her mother, who was very ill.
So I wrote her through her website and she told me what ‘very ill’ meant. I wrote a message to the family, and revised it ten or fifteen times, which made me laugh then cry.

So I have known this was coming. And a few minutes ago, I read about Norma’s death on a list for independent booksellers---which is a perfect and fitting way to find out.

Good night, dear Norma.
I miss you.
I will do my best to do my best without you.

If you missed meeting Norma or weren’t aware of her brilliant work, her words and books are still here http://normafoxmazer.net/ And that, truly, is the magic of literacy.

Sacred Scars Review

No Spoilers!! Yay! (except my use of the eyedropper...?)

SACRED SCARS: Hornbook review 10/09

After the momentary pause at the (cliffhanger) end of SKIN HUNGER, the action resumes full throttle. In alternating chapters, magically attuned servant-girl Sadima plots a rebellion against her exploitive master Somiss, who is keeping her and Franklin captive in a cave complex while he relearns how to use the old magic; and two hundred years later, in the sadistic school for wizards run from the same cave complex, apprentice wizard Hahp plots a rebellion against Somiss and Franklin in a world where magic is now widespread. The plot-gunning question of what has happened to Sadima in the meantime is only partially answered: Duey doles clues with an eyedropper, keeping readers busily but happily engaged in connecting dots even as the horrors and triumphs of the unfolding story hold them spellbound. When the last page of this exquisitely suspenseful fantasy is turned, readers will be satisfied (Both plotlines come to crisis and thence to resolution, however temporary) but will feel they are still living in Duey’s world, waiting to discover what happens to the characters they have become so invested in—waiting impatiently for Duey to conjure the concluding volume.