Redzilla Attacks

Another day older and deeper in debt

nobody@vox.com(Redzilla) — Mon, 11 Aug 2008 09:42:23 -0700

It's probably not the best sign in the world when the phrase that describes how you're feeling is lifted straight from a Merle Travis lament on coal mining. I'd like to say that I don't owe my soul to the company store, but since I owe my soul to the bank, it's not much different.

The debt part I've been feeling for several weeks, but I didn't feel older until the new faculty hire came in to get her keys. She's ten years younger than I am, just finished her Ph.D., and this is her first real teaching job--an assistant professorship. It's a big deal, the kind of thing that you have to work hard to get. I have to keep reminding myself that the reason this 20-something little pipsqueak has achieved this is that it's what she wanted. I have to remind myself that I didn't want the PhD or the professorship. Sometimes, working in this environment, it's hard to remember that.

All the same, here I am, the day before my 37th birthday and I feel tired. I ought to feel a bit cheered up. Unlike 2007, which was a zero sum year on the writing/publishing front, 2008 has been quite a bit better. I've had five short stories accepted for publication* and I've gotten a few nibbles on one of my novels. Still, it seems like there's so much work ahead of me with no guarantee of results. I guess I am getting old, because I think I need a nap.

*For my friends, who are curious, here's a list of the upcoming publications.

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I'm baa-aack

nobody@vox.com(Redzilla) — Wed, 30 Jul 2008 08:04:26 -0700

I've returned from my whirlwind tour of lovely Wichita, Kansas, where I mostly sat around and wrote. And wrote. And wrote. 32,000 words. Not on any of the projects I could use 32,000 words to finish, but on a new project, of course. All the same, 4,000+ words per day is nothing to sneeze at. My new project involves a narrator on death row and the ugliest girl in the world. Oh, and I got some more good news: the essay about my very brief stint as a topless waitress is going to be published. As that's my 4th acceptance since January, that makes 2008 a pretty good year, and it's not even over.

I told my sister she should open a writer's colony in her little WW2 era brick ranch. She said that would be fine, as long as all the writers baked for her like I did. I've heard Tobias Wolff makes a mean carrot cake.

(Speaking of dessert, try this: get a pound cake mix and bake it up. Then take a block of cream cheese, softened to room temperature, 1/4 cup of lemon juice, 1 tsp. of lemon zest, 2 cups of powdered sugar, sifted, plus a small carton of whipping cream, whipped. Mix the lemon and cream cheese, then sift in the powdered sugar and mix until smooth. Fold in the whipped cream. ~~Frost the pound cake with the goopy mixture, then refrigerate for two hours.~~ Throw away pound cake and eat frosting with a spoon. This is the best ~~cake~~ frosting ever, and I say that to you as someone who was raised on home-made buttermilk-and-vinegar red velvet cake, which is now the second best cake ever. The thing is, it doesn't matter what cake you put it on, the frosting is so insanely delicious. I plan to try putting the lemon frosting on the red velvet cake, but I'm worried about the potential for a bacon-and-chocolate like culinary Armageddon.)

I actually got back on Monday, when I came into the office, I discovered that my office was still inaccessible due to construction. Ditto Tuesday morning. This morning, I am finally back in business, pushing all my paperwork and blogging. Because that's what I do at work.

Hope you all had fun and didn't throw any wild parties while I was gone.

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Vay-cay-shon

nobody@vox.com(Redzilla) — Fri, 18 Jul 2008 15:35:39 -0700

Okay, my people, I'm headed off for my glorious week-long vacation in...lovely Wichita. Although I have other obligations, my goal is to turn this into a writing vacation. Or, failing, that, a lying around doing nothing vacation.

is time for my massage?

another daiquiri please

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Mother's Little Helper

nobody@vox.com(Redzilla) — Wed, 18 Jun 2008 08:57:27 -0700

Ergo_cat

Yup, this is what I have to work with when I'm writing.

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Randomocity

nobody@vox.com(Redzilla) — Tue, 17 Jun 2008 10:55:27 -0700

Some stuff:

My street is a wildlife sanctuary now, with baby buns and squirrels running up and down, chasing each other around the medians. This is cute but alarming, because the street isn't going to be closed forever. This is a whole generation of critters failing to learn that the street is a Dangerous Place.

I thought the German secretary talked a lot. Now with the reshuffling, though, we've got three other departments down on our floor. Verdict: History secretary talks a lot more than German secretary. In fact, History secretary has not shut up since she got here this morning.

Dude riding your motorcycle without a helmet. At first, I thought you were just an idiot, but then I noticed that you were wearing one of those really nice, padded, Motocross jackets. That's so thoughtful of you, so that when you're in a wreck, even though your brain will be splattered all over the pavement, your kidneys and liver and other internal organs will be protected from damage. Thanks for thinking of all those people waiting on the transplant lists.

I like getting requests for manuscripts in the mail. Makes me feel like I didn't waste the stamp on my SASE.

I hate getting e-mail rejections. It's like the final frontier of disappointment. Oh, and agents who reject by e-mail when I've queried by snail mail, what are they doing with my stamps? Bastards.

I'm feeling a little guilty, because all the crazy weather that trashed Manhattan and flooded Iowa, well, it's really delivered some lovely spring-like weather to Lawrence. Normally, summer would already be heating up here, but that last two days have been delightfully sunny and cool. Sorry about that.

On my errand to the post office, I had a near disgruntled encounter. The postal clerk was so pissed off, she was pacing up and down in her little cubicle, muttering to herself. She glared up at the line of people and snarled, "Next!" I said, "I'll come back later." When I did, she wasn't there. I bought my stamps and got the hell out. That's all I need, getting shot on a Tuesday.

These two lovely women, who have been together for more than 50 years, finally got married today. I don't care where you are on the political spectrum, if that doesn't warm the cockles of your heart, you don't have one. I almost cried listening to this story on the radio this morning, because I had this sudden, completely uncontrollable feeling of hope. I don't get that a lot, but this morning, it seemed like maybe someday, we really will have equal rights for everyone in this country.

Del and Phillys

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The sickness pays off!

nobody@vox.com(Redzilla) — Thu, 12 Jun 2008 06:50:35 -0700

Or it feels like I'm being rewarded for my screwed up approach to life.

This morning, when I went to put my Netflix movie out for the postman, I realized that I had never checked the mail yesterday. After a night of thunderstorms, it was a bit humid, but I didn't mind. Along with my various junk mail and bills was...another short story acceptance. Guess who feels like hot stuff today? Me.

And yes, eventually, I'll post some links where you can read/buy the various stories that I've got coming out or that are already out.

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The nature of my sickness

nobody@vox.com(Redzilla) — Wed, 11 Jun 2008 09:48:23 -0700

Well, you've had to hear me whimper about bad news on the publishing front, so I suppose I should share a little bit of good news. Yesterday was set to be a rejection day--got a short story rejection first thing in the AM--but then lo! Came home from work and had a short story acceptance. So, that's two this year, which is nice.

In other writing news, I did something that at first seemed "constructive" and now strikes me as a big mistake. I made a little note card for each novel I'm working on. Posted them up on the closet door of my office, so I could track when I'm working on each one and how far I'm getting. See? That looks constructive, doesn't it? Except when I got to note card seven, I realized: "Oh, I'm working on seven different novels in various stages of completion."

Sick sick sick. Sure, some are closer than others. One is more than half done, while two are just in embryonic research stages. Still, it can't possibly be a good thing that I have that many ideas jockeying for space in my brain.

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Vox Hunt: I'd take George Bernard Shaw's failure

nobody@vox.com(Redzilla) — Fri, 18 Apr 2008 06:54:42 -0700

Failure is inevitable... Show us some failure.
Submitted by Connie.

The funny thing about failure: it's usually indistinguishable from success until the last possible moment. All those sports success stories--just a heartbeat away from failure. It's the cruel thing about failure, too. You're ready to succeed, right up until the moment you're staring failure in the face. Writing is no different. There's every chance someone will want to publish your story/buy your book/offer you representation/give you an award, right up until they don't. As proof, I offer my current submission roster, as tracked on Duotrope.com.

Failure_success

Some days it's hard to stare that list down, and not necessarily because of the "Rejection, Form" entries. Often the "Pending Response" listings are harder to take. Success or failure waiting to happen.

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Why I wear black, Reasons 4 & 9 illustrated

nobody@vox.com(Redzilla) — Fri, 04 Apr 2008 07:04:48 -0700

I don't know why people feel like they have the right to question me about my wardrobe, but they do. At least once a month I have to field a question from someone I barely know about why I mostly wear black clothes, as though there were a single reason for anything I do. So, here are some highlights.

1. I like black.

2. Black is slenderizing.

3. It reflects the darkness of my soul. (Really, that's what people want to hear.)

4. I'm a writer, not a fountain pen technician. Not infrequently, refilling my Pelikan is messy. Sometimes even writing with my Pelikan is messy.

black_finger

5. Every day there's a funeral, I never know when I might need to go to one.

6. Black hides mistakes. Except for mistakes made with chlorine bleach.

7. I'm somewhat clumsy.

8. I work around office equipment that produces icky black things like toner.

9. Sippy, who likes to use me as her own personal nap spot/scratching post/scent marker.

clawing cat secret neck

10. Flanny, who is a dirty dirty dirty little cat.

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Post-Rejection Analysis

nobody@vox.com(Redzilla) — Fri, 28 Mar 2008 06:48:00 -0700

Sometimes you get a rejection that makes you erase the play board and start over.

I drank too much coffee yesterday and was awake too late, thereby putting myself at risk of the dreaded unexpected late-night e-mail rejection. It was one of those rejections that's hard to set aside, because it was personalized and it came from a place I'm already familiar with: obvious writing talent and not a commercially viable project.

I know this about the book I've been querying. It's too big, too convoluted, a bit too smart to be straight genre, but I love the book. I want people to read the book, but I'm not without a certain amount of pragmatism. After eleven rejections, knowing what I know, I'm putting this one on indefinite hiatus. It's time to move on.

The next book I'm querying is distinctly more commercial, so at least I don't have that hurdle, but that whole issue is weighing on me pretty heavily as I try to decide what project to work on next. I always have about half a dozen things waiting in the wings, but as I work on a decision, I thought I'd ask my Voxy neighbors what kind of things you're interested in reading these days. What sorts of stories, issues, people are you interested in?

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