Lena Corazon

Flights of Fancy

Month: November 2011 (page 1 of 2)

Monday Inspirations: Don’t Steal Corn From a Porcupine

November 28, 2011 / / 36 Comments

Today’s Monday Inspirations is more on the unrepentantly silly side. It’s my first day back to school after the holiday weekend, I’m still a little drowsy from all the tryptophan and my ridiculously long drive yesterday. I needed a little laugh out loud funny to start my morning off right, and oh boy, I found it over on Jezebel.

Folks, porcupines make ridiculously adorable Disney creature noises. And they eat corn. And woe betide the person who tries to steal their corn, because they will grab at it with their tiny little fingers, and emit high-pitched noises of fury and protest.

I am sure they will also attack with prickly quills, but I don’t care. I now need one in my life, and I will endure the threat of prickles with absolute delight.

So let the cutesy woodland creature inspire your day as you struggle through the post-turkey-and-football coma! I am, er, off to find a porcupine to steal borrow befriend.

ROW80: 50k, is that you?

November 26, 2011 / / 53 Comments

Well, I did it. I’m not quite sure how I did it, but the seemingly impossible has occurred: I’ve written over 50k for PATH TO THE PEACOCK THRONE, validated the novel, and gotten many shiny things and goodies for winning NaNoWriMo.

Yes, that’s right. It bears saying once more: I somehow won NaNoWriMo. And I totes have proof:

WINNING.

I suppose I shouldn’t be completely shocked; after all, I won CampNaNo in August. But I wasn’t working or going to school in August, and the experience was completely different. I ran out of story half-way through the month, lost a few days obsessing over exactly what I was doing, and basically made up a ton of stuff in order to squeak my way past the finish line.

PPT is far from finished. It’s pretty much unreadable at the moment, filled with tons of holes and missing words and placeholders and characters with horrible names. There is no discernable system of magic (and, er, this is supposed to be a fantasy novel), a romance subplot that currently hasn’t taken off, and all sorts of twists and turns that I haven’t figured out. How does my MC manage to save the world and avert certain danger? I have no friggin’ clue… but for once I have the confidence that I’ll figure it out.

In the meantime, I am going to keep working on this novel, though I have others that have decided to surface in the last few days. TELL ME NO LIES, my steampunk murder mystery, beckons. I’ve managed to evade it over the last few weeks, but I had a moment yesterday. I spent the afternoon in San Francisco, and saw a protestor in Union Square wearing a creepy sort of gas mask. He carried a protest sign with a George Carlin quote: “That’s why they call it the American Dream, because you have to be asleep to believe it.” The image struck me, and made me think about how my steampunk world, set in late 18th century San Francisco, might not be so different: there are the haves and the have nots, and a whole set of outspoken rabble protesting the existing social order. It’s just one of a whole host of things I want to add to the tale, and I’m itching to get started.

And let’s not talk about the idea I had for a semi-new story based on a short piece I wrote in high school about an all-women’s academy called “The Court of Enchanted Oaks.” The original story was a fantasy tale that was a combination of Harry Potter and my high school experiences (I went to an all-girls Catholic school on a campus nicknamed “The Oaks”). This new twist turns it into a steampunk world, where the students find themselves inadvertently in the forefront of an unexpected war. My muse tells me that this is a story about the clash between female lore/magic (the “old ways”) and the enlightenment science/engineering stuff that has replaced it (masculine rationality, etc.). It is a tantalizing idea to toy with, one that echoes the main theme that keeps cropping up in my work: challenging binaries and bridging social divides. The MC, at least as she exists at the moment, could unite both old ways and new, and somehow help to end the war.

Seriously, I don’t know where this stuff comes from. I just write it down.

Before I can really do much with my writing, however, I have decreed that the first half of December will be known as LeTheWriFort: Lena’s Thesis-Writing Fortnight (rolls right off the tongue, don’t it?). I have a thesis draft to finish, a final paper to write for my feminist studies seminar, and come December 9th, a stack of 30 final papers to grade from my students (although I will just note that this is nowhere near as much work as I usually have to grade at the end of the quarter).

Anyway! This is a rambly sort of update, potentially due to the fact that I am exhausted and need to get some rest, as tomorrow morning I leave my parents’ and make the 5 hour trek back to school. I’m not terribly excited to go — this visit was far too short, and I’m not ready for it to end. However, I’ll be back by mid-December. Better yet, I’ll have an entire month to do nothing but read books, write fun stuff, and visit my friends — pure bliss.

I hope those of you who celebrate Thanksgiving had a wonderful, restful holiday. For my fellow WriMos, I wish you luck with completing your writing goals, whether or not that involves the 50k finish line or another of your own choosing. As always, be sure to swing by and visit the other ROW80 participants, and cheer them on as they tackle their goals. 😀

Fiction Fridays: Imagining Path to the Peacock Throne

November 25, 2011 / / 14 Comments

For this week’s Friday Inspirations, I’m reposting a piece from July 2011, where I first introduced some of the ideas and images that serve as inspiration for my NaNoWriMo novel, PATH TO THE PEACOCK THRONE. Enjoy!

***

Art by Susan Seddon Boulet

I’ve been nursing the idea about country founded and governed by women for some time now, and it was in April that I started to build the basic structure of the land I have since named “Vao Artan.”  The central organizing myth is that the realm was settled by seven sisters, siblings who were in the goddess’s favor and blessed with dominion over the land.  Each sister had a specific talent — the cultivation of land and livestock; hunting and martial prowess; music, painting, and the arts; scholarly research; mathematics and science; magic; and diplomacy and rule.  The descendants of each sister correspond to a specific strata or occupation within the society.

This is where things get interesting.  Each of the seven sisters is associated with a type of bird — swans and magic, owls and scholarly research, nightingales and the arts, etc.  The bird imagery continues throughout the duration of the society, to the point where the military’s headquarters is known as “The Falconry,” and the royal mage is known as “The Cygne” (cygne being French for “swan”).  Each queen takes the name of a bird to represent her personality/rule.  The current queen, Vaedyn, is known as the “Eagle’s Claw,” which symbolizes her status as a warrior.  My main character, Liandre, will take the peacock for her standard.

So with that in mind, I’ve been collecting all sorts of bird-related things to help me out with world-building.  I’ve been thinking about fashion, architecture, and decor, among other odds and ends. Today, though, I’m going to look at fashion. Luckily, the fashion world has been drawing on avian inspirations for ages now, so there’s a wide range of ideas from which I can draw.

Feathers will be integrated into this tale, from the crests that adorn the helmets of the nation’s soldiers and warriors and other accessories, like jewelry and belts, to elaborate gowns, cloaks, and other items of clothing.

Take, for example, this headpiece by Arturo Rios, which is elegant and dramatic, as well as a bit gothic.  It’s just the sort of thing the aristocrats of Vao Artan might wear.

Makeup by Mark Lim

I also love the idea of drawing inspiration for makeup and cosmetics from birds, like makeup artist Mark Lim did here, using this absolutely gorgeous peacock headpiece and choker.  (This is actually a look I’ve attempted with the bright blue and green eyeshadow, but I’m not nearly this talented!)

Necklace by Lucy Hutchings

 

Other pretties include these phenomenal necklaces designed by Lucy Hutchings.  They are apparently inspired by the Bowerbird, “who loves to feather his nest with lots of blue to attract an egglayer,” according to Trendhunter.  I’ve introduced a similar sort of necklace into the third chapter of PPT, which is worn by the witch (or “Mother Cygne”) Simone.  Instead of being made from stones of blue-green, it is a rope of egg-sized, rough-hewn amethysts.

The women of Vao Artan, I think, like their jewelry big and bold, their clothing bright and colorful, and their accessories noticeable.  They are women after my own heart. 😉

Finally, here’s one last gown, created by Indonesian designer Anne Avantie.  It doesn’t have any explicitly avian details, but the color scheme is absolutely perfect for a young woman about to assume the “peacock throne.”  The model also reminds me of the way that Liandre appears in my mind, which is an extra bonus:

Kebaya by Anne Avantie

And there we have it!  A wee peek into the world that I am attempting to craft for PATH TO THE PEACOCK THRONE.  For more pictures and ideas, you can visit my tumblr, where I organize my world-building ideas.

Where do you turn for inspiration when you’re crafting a new tale?  How do you organize your ideas — scrapbooking, collages, digital photo galleries?

ROW80: Writing Like a Fiend

November 19, 2011 / / 41 Comments

Before I get to my update, I want to thank everyone who commented on Wednesday’s post. I didn’t quite realize how my story of finding community among this wonderful group of writers would resonate with so many people. Thank you for sharing your stories!

On the housekeeping front, wordpress.org users have finally been upgraded to the snazzy wordpress-run subscription widget. Since Feedburner’s been acting wonky, I’ve disabled it in favor of the WP one. You’ll see it on the right sidebar on the home page, and on the footer of each page. If email subscription is your thing, feel free to sign up. 🙂

Writing: This week has been a lot better than last week. I’m actively editing my thesis, so progress is being made on that end. Even better, I’ve broken out of my NaNo slump; at the time of writing this post, I’ve reached 33,687 words, which places me slightly ahead. I am writing, as my title suggests, like a fiend, embracing imperfection as fully as I can. By the end of the month, I’ll have the first layer of a novel that will need lots of TLC, and quite a bit of work, especially where world-building is concerned, but something is better than nothing!

I’d like to write another 1400 words or so before bed tonight, because I doubt that I’ll be able to write at all Monday or Tuesday. I’m on campus from 9 till 6 on Monday, and Tuesday I’m driving to San Francisco so I can spend Thanksgiving with my family. I am so unbelievably excited; all I want to do is load up my truck, hit the highway, and head north. No stopping, no looking back, no collecting $200 till I make it back to the Bay. 🙂

Exercise: This, friends, is where I have failed. I worked out 5 days this week, but I’m trying to undo some bad behavior from a couple weeks ago, when I was sick. During that time, I didn’t exercise because I was worried about my asthma flaring further. That would have been okay… if I hadn’t decided to buy a bag of ginger cookies from the store and devour them in a single weekend.

"No Cookies," by Mike R. Baker

Yeah, that’s me, face stuffed full of cookies. Needless to say, my pants are definitely tighter than they should be, and it’s sort of discouraging, because those same pants were starting to get loose just a few weeks ago.

I’ve had to make some difficult decisions regarding health and nutrition. I’ve been buying at least one bag of cookies, and/or bar of dark chocolate, and/or pint of ice cream each week since October, all with the promise that I would only eat a little bit at a time. Clearly, my self-control is non-existent. Until I can get to the point where having 1 cookie doesn’t turn into the entire damn bag, I’m banning myself from sugary things.

I keep trying to remember that I have succeeded at breaking these bad habits for longer than a week. It’s a hard transition, replacing candy with fruit, cookies with veggies, empty foods with healthy, filling ones. If anyone has any good suggestions for healthy snacks (I’ve got the 3 main meals covered, but snacks are my downfall), I would love to hear them.

Anyway, that’s it for me today! Be sure to swing by and check out how everyone else is doing this week. Also, stop by the Fun Not Fear! blog, where Em and I are hosting the weekly check-in thread. And, hey, while we’re at it, have a wee snippet from my NaNo tale, PATH TO THE PEACOCK THRONE.

Image: Photography by BJWOK / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

I hate writing synopses, but here’s the basic gist: Liandre, the main character, was stolen from her birthplace 20 years before. Raised as the daughter of a king in a distant land, she learns of her true identity at the start of the novel. Her homecoming has been less than auspicious: her claim to the throne is challenged by one of the major political factions, isolationists who don’t take kindly to a “foreign” woman becoming queen. This scene is a snippet of Liandre’s first meeting with her mother since she was taken.

-oOo-

Simone slipped out of the room on silent feet, and shut the door behind her just as quietly. I was alone with my mother at last.

Mother. The word was foreign on my tongue. Once, when I was a little girl, I had tried to imagine what it would have been like to have a mother in addition to my beloved father. I dreamed of how she would love me and cosset me, tuck me in at bedtime, sing me precious lullabies. I had eventually grown out of those fantasies; what else could I do, believing my mother to be dead? But now here I was, sitting before her, and I had no idea where to start.

Here in the privacy of her chamber, there was little trace of her famed ferocity. She looked tired and gaunt, her shoulders hunched, face turned from mine. I could only imagine what she had endured during my absence, a queen beset by invaders and internal conflict, heartbroken over the abduction of her only child and heir.

Moved by a sudden surge of emotion, I reached out for her hand. An unexpected jolt went through me as our fingers brushed, and I swallowed back a sob. She must have felt it as well, for she started in surprise. We sat in silence for a long moment, hands linked, heads bowed.

When she spoke, her words were halting, abrupt. “Your journey. Was it agreeable?”

“It was… an adventure, to say the least.”

“Good.” There was another awkward pause as she pulled her hand from mine and turned away. “I knew you for my own the moment I saw you.” Her voice was harsh, fierce with barely-suppressed emotion. “How any could challenge your claim is beyond my ken.”

I couldn’t hold back my tears any longer. It had been my deepest fear that she would reject me, the same way the hecklers had challenged my identity during my formal reception, but she knew me. She was willing to claim me as her own, to love me, and in that moment it didn’t matter that the rest of the country seemed resolved to hate me. So long as I had her love, I could endure any challenge that came my way.

She brushed the tears from my cheek with gentle fingers. “The mark of our line is stamped upon your face, in the arch of your brow, the curve of cheek, the point of your chin. All will acknowledge it before long, I promise you.”

“Mother?” There, I had said it, and the warmth of her smile soothed the anxiety that thrummed through me.

“Aya, you once called me.  It is a name that only children use, but…” Her hand trembled in mine. “Would you humor me, gosling?  When you come of age, I promise I will treat you like the woman you are.”

I tried the word once, twice, and then nodded, for this word fit better than any other. “Very well, Aya. I would be honored.”

Fiction Fridays: Tapping Into Writerly Extrasensory Perception

November 18, 2011 / / 15 Comments

Today marks the final day of the Warm Fuzzies blogfest. I’m not quite sure where the last four weeks went, but here we are, over halfway through with November, hurtling our way to the winter holidays.

Our prompt for the week is a bit of a timely one, given that I am easing my way out of a rough writing patch and trying to regain momentum with NaNoWriMo:

This week, post what makes writing worth it for you and most importantly, post one of your Warm Fuzzy moments. It can be a scene from a WIP, short story, poem, anything that strikes your fancy. Visit one another’s posts and enjoy the writing you find there.

Writing involves blood and sweat and tears (the blood is hopefully metaphorical, unless we are discussing paper cuts). It can be stressful, frightening, disheartening. Sometimes I can end my writing time feeling down-in-the-dumps pathetic, like I’m the worst writer to walk the face of the planet, and how in the world am I ever going to turn this piece of tripe into something that people want to read, let alone pay for?

Sometimes, it helps for me to think of writing as a sort of treasure hunt, or some vast archaeological dig. I like to imagine myself the intrepid adventurer on a quest, armed with a map and some tools, along with a folder holding the bits of research and scraps of paper and a clue or two.

Image: taoty / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

No matter how detailed my preparation for the excursion, however, I never fail to wander into unmarked territory. It’s in those unmarked spaces that I find the most unexpected gems, the most valuable pieces of treasure. It’s in those off-the-beaten-path spots where I suddenly find the capacity to listen.

Sometimes the things I hear resonate with the guideposts on my map; sometimes they take me into brand new territory. No matter what, this is where the magic happens.  Characters suddenly reveal a handful of new secrets. Mundane settings become more vibrant. Flat, uninteresting plots gain complexity, along with a few twists and turns. Ideas are infused with life, with passion and vibrancy and wants and needs,

This is why I write, aside from the fact that there are characters chirping in my ear, demanding that their stories be told. I write because I can’t get enough of this strange extrasensory perception, this third eye that allows me to see and to hear things that don’t exist. I write because I have the faith that my hard work will be rewarded with those wonderful, incandescent moments of joy, when a scene that’s been hazy and vague suddenly crystallizes in my mind.

Given the furious pace of NaNoWriMo, it’s been difficult to tap into my writerly ESP, to take the time to sit down and just listen to what my characters want and need. It’s one of the things that I’m hoping to do this weekend, because I know the story needs an injection of vitality, a little (or maybe a lot) extra oomph.

All of this is a roundabout way to preface my excerpt, which is not taken from my NaNo novel (sorry, guys, it just doesn’t have that “zing” right now). Instead, I’m posting a flash fiction piece that I wrote for a Halloween-themed challenge last month. You can find the original post here. I love this piece because it’s a little creepy, moody, and dark, which is out-of-the-ordinary for me.

Enjoy, and be sure to swing by and visit the other bloggers taking part in the Warm Fuzzies blogfest!

-oOo-

“Midnight Walker”

It was a small thing, really: a single globule of blood, no larger than a dewdrop and just as delicate.  If Alaric hadn’t been starving, his veins parched and dry, it would’ve been easy enough to ignore.  Restraint and willpower had always been his strengths, even before he was reborn.  But then again, he had never been deprived of sustenance for so long. There was no way he could withstand such temptation.

That drop of blood was a siren’s song of lust and desire, flooding his mouth with saliva, sharpening his gleaming fangs.  It gleamed in the flickering glow of the streetlamp, adorning the whore’s neck like the most precious ruby.

She’d been bitten already — a sloppy kiss from a drunkard, for her intoxicating bouquet was tainted by the acrid, burnt smell of whiskey. With his preternatural senses, he could hear the beating of her heart, the borborygmic trembling of her stomach; she was hungry as well, her face pinched and pale beneath a heavy coating of rouge.  It mattered little. By the time Alaric was through, food — or lack thereof — would be the least of her worries.

The whore turned limpid eyes upon him, lips parted in a drawl of invitation, and Alaric’s hands shook as his slid the coin into her hand.  A thrill of delight coursed down his spine as he followed her into the dank alley nearby, even as his conscience uttered one final whimper of protest.

He would hate himself come morning, when the alleys would be strewn with evidence of his excesses, but the salt-sweet elixir on his tongue drove away all regret.

 

Wicked Wednesdays: The Importance of Community, And Blog Awards

November 16, 2011 / / 54 Comments

Today’s Wicked Wednesday post is a little late, but it was one of those days where everything else seemed to take precedence to blogging. But according to my clock, it is still Wednesday, so here we are. Today, I’m thinking about the magical, wonderful online community of writers, and passing out shiny new blog awards!

Finding my way to the online writing community is probably one of the best things to happen to me. Not better than, say, finishing college or getting into graduate school, but pretty darn close.

See, I’ve always been something of a loner. It wasn’t necessarily by choice; I was labeled the Smart Kid in elementary school, and never really grew out of it. As many of you might know, becoming the Smart Kid is akin to social suicide: the cool kids think you’re lame, no one wants to hang out with you, and everyone assumes that you’re nothing more than, y’know, a pulsating brain in a chair — no personality, no wants or needs, just a vat of intelligence that’s there to dispense information.

“Lena, what’s the answer to number 3? Lena, will you do my homework for me? No? But you understand this book so much better than I do, and…”

No, I’m not bitter. Seriously, guys, I swear.

Anyway, as a result, I didn’t get much more social than hanging out with my tiny cadre of fellow outcasts during lunch breaks. I spent most of my time alone, immersing myself in make-believe worlds of books, poetry, and creative writing. That solitude became my refuge, and after a few brushes with clingy, toxic friendships in high school and college, being alone seemed far preferable than anything else.

But humans are social creatures, and we crave connection and intimacy with others. I tried to go it alone after my writing partner and I “broke up” after 5 years of working together (the relationship rather imploded in the messiest and most painful of ways). After close to to years of writer’s block, though, it became really clear to me that the Silent-Loner-Writer thing just wasn’t going to work. I didn’t want to collaborate again, but I needed people. I needed feedback. Better yet, I needed non-grad students who I could talk to about writing and books, about things that weren’t anchored in the dysfunctional dynamics of academia, or my thesis topic, or the other old conversations that make grad student gatherings feel so suffocating.

I started this quest for community just over 1 year ago, when I signed up for a Livejournal account and started poking at the world of fan fiction again. A month or so later, I broke up with my boyfriend of almost 2 years, and the imperative to write and connect became even stronger. I latched onto writing communities on LJ, and while that helped a bit, there were only a handful of people who were involved and committed.

Fast-forward a bit, to May 2011, when I accidentally stumbled upon A Round of Words in 80 Days. When I say “stumbled,” I do mean it. One of my LJ friends linked to the Plot Whisperer, and I went peeking at her site. I started poking at her blogroll, and eventually I found one that was talking about some ‘ROW80 check-in.’ I followed that link, and lo! History was made.

ROW80 led me to an amazing network of supportive, engaging, creative, and wonderful people. It also pushed me to dust off my long-defunct Twitter account so I could hang out over at the #ROW80 hashtag. In turn, Twitter opened the doors to the #myWANA crowd, and to an unbelievable treasure trove of blogfests, writing challenges, writing blogs, fun communities… Really, I could go on and on.

If someone had told me last November that, in a year, I’d be furiously writing my way towards winning NaNoWriMo, I would have laughed in their faces. If that same person had added that I’d have over a dozen flash fiction pieces and three novels in-progress to my credit, I would have laughed even harder. And if that strange, bizarre, crazy person also said that I’d have over 600 followers on Twitter and a Google Reader bursting at the seams with amazing blogs written by people I would call friends, I would’ve checked them for mental problems.

But it happened, improbably enough, and as we speed ever closer to Thanksgiving, I find myself more grateful for this community than ever. My mother, who knows me better than anyone, told me recently that this is the happiest I’ve been in ages. I know it’s due in large part to the enthusiasm, support, and genuine caring that I’ve found from all of you. So consider this blog post a sort of love letter to all of you, dear friends and readers.

As part of this mutual lovefest, I am passing out blog awards! It seems as though I’ve been accumulating them over the past few weeks, hoarding them up because I haven’t had the chance to pass them along, but I am sending them along at last. 🙂

Continue reading

ROW80: Tryin’ To Get That Feeling Again

November 12, 2011 / / 36 Comments

Yes, the title of today’s post is indeed a reference to Barry Manilow’s hit song, and yes, that’s a clip of him performing it in concert below. It is, I promise, relevant for today.

You see, I have hit the mid-month slump. My pretty NaNo novel, which seemed so sparkly and wonderful and exciting when I started it at the beginning of the month, now seems rather… lackluster. Insipid. Boring? Metaphors and figures of speech are unwieldy, not to mention a bit cliche, my characters are revealing some crazy inconsistencies, and I’m starting to see the holes in my lovely outline. One of the problems is that I’ve been working on the voyage sequence (where my main character has been sailing to the strange and frightening land of her birth) for over a week, and I think I am just sick and tired of talking about it. I need to get poor Liandre off the darn ship and onto solid land, so the rest of her journey can take place.

I can’t complain terribly about my NaNoWriMo progress. The beginning of the week was a challenge, but I’ve caught up with my word count. At the moment, I have 19,311 words, and by the time I finish writing tonight, I will have hopefully added on at least 2k more. When I sit and really think about this, I can hardly believe that I’ve written so much in such a short period of time. It’s not perfect — far from it — but I think by the end of the month there will be some salvageable bits that can be edited, polished up, and (maybe) turned into something real and substantial.

I think I’ve reached the mid-point blahs with everything, not just writing. Monday marks the beginning of Week 8 in our academic quarter (there are 10 in total), and oh god, I am just… squeaking… by. I spent the past couple of days laboring over a 5 page paper that I should’ve been able to write in a few hours. I can barely stand reading for class. That thesis thing that I’m supposed to be writing? Yeah, that’s not happening either. I’m a bit tired, a little low on energy, lacking in excitement, and all I really want to do is go home and see my family. Thanksgiving can’t come soon enough.

Pictures of kittens make everything better.

On the other hand, I will say that I’m surprised that I didn’t hit this bump earlier in the quarter. I’m tired, my desire to juggle is flagging, but I’m not unhappy, and that’s more than I can say for previous quarters. By week 5 of each quarter, I’m usually indulging in escape fantasies —  you know, plans to drop out of grad school and join the circus, or become a makeup artist, or move to a commune in the forest. I’ve managed to avoid escape fantasies this quarter, which I count as progress. Things are getting done, just not necessarily in the time frame that I’ve intended. However, slow and steady wins the race, etc, etc.

Anyway, if I go a little quiet on the Twitter/blog/social media front, you’ll know why. We’re entering the stretch when I have to tackle the most immediate things first (i.e., all that stuff that I’m getting graded on). I’ve got plans for this week’s blog posts, and some drafts, but we’ll see if I can actually pull them together. I missed Friday’s post because I mistakenly thought that I should be responsible and take care of my 5 page paper before everything else. Had I realized that the dumb paper would’ve taken 2 days to write, I would’ve just gotten the blog post and my NaNo writing out of the way first. Juggling — it is a fine art, and one that I have yet to perfect.

So that’s where I am this week! Just as a reminder, Em and I are hosting another Fun Not Fear! check-in, which I highly encourage all WriMos, and WriMo cheerleaders, to visit. And don’t forget to swing by and wave hello to the rest of the ROW80 community.

Wicked Wednesdays: Literature and The Adventuring Academic

November 9, 2011 / / 32 Comments

Today kicks off Wicked Wednesdays, which is much more tame than it might sound at first.  Wednesdays will now be the day when I blab about guilty pleasures and oh-so-pleasant vices, broadly conceived.

Today’s topic: books about scholars!

For as long as I can remember, I’ve loved books about intrepid academics who leave behind the dusty archives of the day-job, only to find themselves embroiled in the midst of heart-pounding adventure.  It is, perhaps, wishful thinking on some level.  As a PhD student in sociology with a (un?)healthy obsession with historical archives, I harbor the hope that one day, my pursuit of knowledge might take me on a voyage or two of my own.

When it comes to literature, I find that academics make wonderful protagonists.  By nature, they’re curious, intelligent, and good at digging for clues.  Better yet, they don’t quite know how to stay away from potentially dangerous objects, because, y’know, the drive for knowledge is all-consuming.  They also have the potential for fish-out-of-water hilarity — just think of what happens when a staid and stodgy scholar is yanked out of her comfort zone (classroom, library, well-furnished office) and thrust into life-threatening danger.

Here are my top 5 favorite books starring academics:

5. A Wizard in Rhyme, Christopher Stasheff

Christopher Stasheff’s A Wizard in Rhyme series was one of my first books I read featuring a scholarly protagonist. The books fell into my hands during my freshman year of high school, passed along by my friend Ella once she learned that I was a fellow fantasy lover. The main character, Matt, is a English PhD student working his way through a thorny dissertation when a series of strange runes leads him into an alternate universe, where speaking in rhyme is the key to wielding magic.  With a brain filled with poetry and verse, he finds himself an unlikely hero, inadvertently battling the forces of evil in order to free an imprisoned queen.

Stasheff’s novels are filled with humor and adventure, along with a dash of romance, which I love. My only regret is that Stasheff seems to have abandoned the series; the last book published was The Feline Wizard, in 2000.

4. Spell of the Highlander, Karen Marie Moning

Right, I admit it: I have a huge weak spot for romance novels involving harried, overworked academic gals (this has nothing, I repeat, nothing, of my own personal fantasies bound up in this, I swear). Moning, who writes some of the best bodice-rippers starring brawny, kilt-wearing, Scottish alpha men, earned my undying love and devotion when she wrote Spell of the Highlander, featuring anthropology PhD student Jessi St. James.

Jessi’s world changes when she accepts a package sent to her dissertation advisor: a strange mirror that just happens to house a ninth-century Scottish Druid who is, of course, sex on legs.  This book is not about scholarly hunts for knowledge (unless, er, you count carnal knowledge?), but my list would be sadly incomplete without it. 😉

3. The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane, Katherine Howe

I stumbled upon this book in the bargain section of my local Borders during its going-out-of-business sale. I’d never heard of it before, but the blurb hooked me immediately with the magical words “Harvard graduate student,” “Salem witch trials,” and “unearth[ing] a rare artifact of singular power.”

Connie Goodwin, Harvard graduate student and main character, discovers a strange old key hidden in the bookshelf of her grandmother’s abandoned home. The key contains a slip of paper with the name “Deliverance Dane” written upon it, and Connie finds herself obsessed with uncovering this mysterious woman’s identity. Her search is ultimately bound up with her own family’s history and her identity, and involves plenty of digging about in archives, along with more than a few brushes with danger.

As an aspiring scholar-novelist, I was quite happy to learn that Howe, who has a PhD in American and New England Studies herself, began writing the book while studying for her doctoral qualifying exams. She also drew on her own family history for inspiration (her bio notes that she “is a descendant of Elizabeth Proctor, who survived the Salem witch trials, and Elizabeth Howe, who did not”).

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Monday Inspirations: “Still I Rise”

November 7, 2011 / / 11 Comments

Today’s edition of Monday Inspirations is short but powerful. It comes in the form of one of my favorite poems: “Still I Rise” by Maya Angelou.

Last week, I chatted a bit about the idea of the beginner’s challenge, the difficulty that novices face (especially when approaching creative endeavors) as we shake ourselves out of our ruts and comfort zones to pursue our dreams. The idea of perseverance, of “fighting through” both the highs and lows that come from going out on a limb, is one that remains on my mind.

Angelou has written extensively on these themes throughout her long and prolific literary career. No matter how many times I read “Still I Rise,” I can’t help but feel tingles shoot down my spine. Angelou’s words leave me feeling uplifted every time, like I can conquer the world and overcome any challenges that stand in my way. This is the ultimate battle song of survival, a declaration that surrender isn’t an option, that a strong, vital spirit cannot be squelched.

I’ve provided the text of the poem below, but if you can, check out the video. It’s always a treat to watch poets recite their own work, especially when they are as engaging and delightful as Angelou.

Are there stories or poems that you turn to when you need a bit of inspiration?

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ROW80: Buckling Up for a Bumpy Ride

November 6, 2011 / / 16 Comments

First up, my ROW80 update, with the mix of highs and lows that have marked this week. Second, I (re)introduce my NaNoWriMo tale, PATH TO THE PEACOCK THRONE.

I mentioned a couple of weeks ago that November has always been a challenging month for me, between trying to balance school, health, and other challenges. We’re barely a week into the month, and I already feel like I’m on a rollercoaster. There have been a mix of highs and lows, and though my head is spinning, I’m trying to stay focused.

The Good: I’m meeting my exercise goals (4 times/week), and I almost succeeded in my MWF blogging schedule. One cool thing is that I hit my 100th post on Monday. I’m still a shocked that I’ve made it so far. Many, many thanks to everyone who reads and comments — you all keep me motivated!

Em and I have also posted the first Fun Not Fear! check-in, with the usual NaNo mashup. If you haven’t already, swing by to share your progress, or to cheer on the WriMos in the bunch.

The So-So: My NaNo word count started out strong, but I faltered on Saturday. I attended a local meetup of WriMos in the area, but didn’t get any writing done. And in terms of my thesis, I started out strong here as well, but life got wonky before I could finish the sections I had hoped to get done this week.

The Could-Be-Better: I received some unsettling news about an illness in the family last week, and it upset me more than I realized it would. I’m better now, but the couple of days I spent in the Depths of Despair have thrown my schedule off kilter.

At the moment, I’m also trying not to get sick. The temperature dropped suddenly, and my asthma is flaring. I ended up sitting outside for Saturday afternoon’s NaNo meet-up, and although I thought I’d be warm enough in my sweater (hey, it had sleeves, and it covered my chest), I was feeling pretty poorly by the time I got home, and didn’t get anything done.

The Bottom Line: I’m feeling better about things, though I’m slightly overwhelmed by everything that needs to get done this week. I’d usually pull a few all-nighters to get myself back on track, but given the health thing, I need all the sleep I can get. “One step at a time” will be my mantra for the next few days.

(Re)Introducing PATH TO THE PEACOCK THRONE

On Friday, as part of the Warm Fuzzies blogfest, I posted three songs that inspire my current WIP. I’ll be talking about this story for the rest of November as way to keep me motivated through NaNoWriMo. I’m terrible at synopses, but the one that I’ve drafted goes like this:

Liandre, a sheltered princess who dreams of adventure, gets her wish when the death of her father exposes the terrible secret of her origins, catapulting her into an unexpected world of danger and discovery. Along the way, she’ll cross paths with allies and adversaries, watch legends come to life, and find magic more powerful than any she’s ever encountered. Better yet, she might just uncover the threads of identity she thought lost.

If PPT sounds a little familiar to you ROWers who have been visiting me for a while, it’s because I was working on it during the end of Round 2 and beginning of Round 3. 25,000 words in, I abandoned it. My protagonist, Liandre, felt incredibly flat, and I had given away the identity of the ultimate villain within the first four chapters — a definite no-no, especially since his identity is key to a larger conflict that won’t be resolved until Book 2.

Taking time off to rethink my plot (which was pretty much nonexistent) has proven incredibly beneficial. I now have a better sense of where the novel is headed, the ultimate goals I need to achieve, and what has to be done in order to get there. Better yet, I decided to switch the POV from 3rd person to 1st person. Suddenly, my flat-as-cardboard protagonist came to life. She needed to be the one telling her story, without the filter of a narrator, and now that she has the mic, she has come to life. 😀

For NaNo, I’m bracketing the first 25k I wrote, and starting in the middle, hence my semi-rebel status. I don’t know if I’ll end up using any of that original material, but my goal right now is to just move forward, and worry about the beginning when I know exactly how the novel ends. 😀

Anyway, have a wee excerpt! This is taken from the very end of Part 1, where Liandre is “crossing the threshold” from her old life into a new world filled with danger and uncertainty.

Dawn came upon swift wings, the ebon sky yielding to the blush-and-gold of sunrise. Unlike Edric’s departure for Laehira the year before, there were no well-wishers assembled to see me off, no band playing jaunty farewell tunes, no father to bestow a formal blessing upon me. I was no longer sister of the newly-crowned king, but the scion of a land most believed to be little more than myth.

Even if Edric had been at liberty to tell our countrymen the truth of my origins, few would be able to comprehend it. To them, Vao Artan was a fable, a cautionary tale told to disobedient children. My own governess had recited the dreaded tale before bedtime when I was young, and it haunted me still.

“Beware the bird-women across the sea,” she always began, “for they feast on the flesh of naughty little children, and use their bones to line their nests.”

To think that I was now one of those frightful bird-women, that their blood, their magic, flowed through my veins, marked me as different was a fact that I could hardly bear. My skin prickled at the knowledge, as though it no longer belonged to me.

Not perfect, of course, but since it’s NaNo, that’s allowed. 😉

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