#whimword - Gate

She could have sworn the gate hadn't been there before. Lucy had been walking home this way for years and couldn't remember seeing it previously. Surely she would have noticed it if it had always been there?

A more important question was: where did it lead? Lucy imagined the gate was a portal to another realm, one filled with adventure and magical creatures, where good would always triumph over evil. She fantasized about leaving her well worn path between home and work and finding out where the gate led.

Maybe she'd find herself a hero of some sort. She could rescue a princess from a dragon, fall in love and marry her. Or maybe she'd slay a giant, find some long lost treasure. The possibilities seemed endless. All she had to do was step off the path, follow her heart and go through the gate to find out where it went.

She could shrug off her boring everyday life with the nine-to-five job and the pile of dirty dishes waiting for her at home. All she had to do was change her course, just a little.

Lucy sighed, shoved her hands in her pockets and continued the walk home. Maybe tomorrow.

***

#whimword is an informal flashfic competition run by @whimword on twitter.

Write Wordmonkey, Write!

Time marches ever on and as the due date for my thesis submission (not-so-affectionately known as T-day) approaches, my mind is starting to turn to what might come after. And as usual get closer and closer to not being a student any more, I've realised that I don't really want a proper grown up job; increasingly I want to make a living from my writing somehow and as a result I've been reading lots of advice about writing. Particularly advice about having a successful fiction writing career.

I'm quite fond of reading Chuck Wendig's writing advice, mostly due to his irreverent and (often sweary) style, but I've also been devouring books by Rachel Aaron, Kristine Kathryn Rusch and Dean Wesley Smith as well as listening to podcasts like Writing Excuses and I Should Be Writing. There's a hell of a lot of advice out there for a budding fiction writer, almost too much I've come to realise. It makes sense to a degree, the fiction publishing business is in flux and there are a lot of new things to learn about having a successful career in a world with lots of options for traditional, small press and self publishing.

But as far as advice on the actual writing part is concerned I sometimes feel that there's a lot of over-thinking going on. I mean yeah, who am i to be judging these professional writers on the advice they're giving? Surely they know what they're talking about more than I do? Well I might not be making any money from my writing and the only place I've been published is on my blog, but I like to think I know a thing or two about writing despite a pretty busy life. I mean, I've somehow managed to rack up a word count in the region of 60,000 words so far this year while I've been writing up my thesis. And those are just the words I've been keeping track of. And I've managed to do that by following three simple steps:

1) Make yourself sit down and write (preferably every day) with a few distractions as possible.
2) Keep track of how much you're writing and when.
3) When you finish one piece move on the next as quickly as possible. Always be writing.

Seems simple doesn't it? And it is really, but it is also incredibly difficult. Number one in particular is a real belly ache at times when there's work and cleaning and food to cook and videogames to play and a billion other things demanding your attention.

And then there's the beast called writer's block to consider. The best way I've found to beat writer's block is to just sit down and make yourself write something, anything. Whether that's a stream of consciousness whinge about the fact you can't think of anything to write, just make yourself sit there and tap out some words. More often than not it'll get the ball rolling.

I'm also a big fan of word sprints as a method of getting stuff onto the page. 15 minute chunks seem to work best for me, and I can get 500-600 words written in that time, which I don't is too shabby.

Point number two has helped me more than I thought it would. At the moment I'm tracking word count and the date, along with a monthly total and a daily average. You could even track where and what time of day you're writing, or divided it up into genre or fiction and non fiction. Whatever is most useful for you. The point is if you known the number of words you've committed to paper (or screen) you have something definitive, something tangible. And watching that number go up is incredibly satisfying. Had a relatively unproductive week or month? Push yourself to get a higher number next time. A little bit of competition with yourself never hurt, just remember to be kind to yourself if your number goes down one week. Life is allowed to get in the way sometimes, the trick is to pick yourself back up again and try again.

Which leads quite nicely to number three; start a new piece as soon as you can after finishing your current piece. It can be tempting to sit back and revel in the victory of having finished a story or poem or article, whether it's a 100 word drabble or an epic novel. Very tempting, but you have to get back on the house and keep going. Writers write. Yes there's editing and proofreading and a million other things to do, especially if you're submitting something for publication, but that shouldn't get in the way of writing something new.

Just finished writing a 40,000 word novella and suffering a little from writing fatigue? Write something short and sweet to change it up. Found something in your craft that needs work? Write a coupled of short pieces focussing on that aspect to practice. But you need to move on and start writing again, even before you edit something you just finished. Always. Be. Writing.

Three simple rules. Not that hard on the face of it, but they definitely require a little self discipline. That's up to you. Follow these steps and you should seen your productivity increase. Once you're writing on a regular basis you can worry about other stuff. But whatever happens keep writing. And if you need a few more rules I've found Heinlein's rules to be useful too. But keep it simple. Maybe set yourself a word count. 500 words a day is eminently doable, and kept up over the course of a year adds up to enough words for two novels. Wouldn't that be cool? That's what I'm aiming for.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have writing--I mean thesis to do.

Top 10 SF Stories by Women

Over on the old Twitters, @BellJarred for recommendation for short stories by women. As I've spent this year trying to read more scifi/fantasy (or speculative fiction if you're feeling all fancy) by women AND trying to read more short stories in general this lay within my general realm of expertise. I might have gotten a little bit excited and accidentally compiled a list of my current top ten short stories by women.  And because I have a blog doohicky and also to keep them all in one place, I'm posting the list here. Story time!

CaptainRaz's Current Top Ten SF Stories by Women (in no particular order)

Sinner, Baker, Fabulist, Priest; Red Mask, Black Mask, Gentleman, Beast by Eugie Foster

This Nebula Award winning novelette by the sadly late Eugie Foster is difficult to describe.  It's about a future in which the masks we wear every day are literal and they change a person's lives and identity. No one is allowed to know who is really underneath the mask, though of course there are those who want to. This story is breathtaking and it's hard to put into words why I love it so much. It's the only story on my list I couldn't find on the web for free. It's only 99p though and well worth it. Just put it in your face holes.


Selkie Stories Are For Losers by Sofia Samatar

I listened to the audio version of this over on Escape Pod and loved it. It's a beautiful story that weaves folk tales with the modern day, and it kept me guessing right until the end. One of those where the SF elements are downplayed, but no less powerful for it. So far it's the only story I've read by Sofia Samatar, but I intend to change that.


Boojum by Elizabeth Bear and Sarah Monette

I read this in The Mammoth Book of SF Stories by Women (a number of the stories on this list are also in that) and it was one of my favourites in the anthology. A story about a living ship and her crew—which I always love—with a surprisingly Lovecraftian ending. I remember basically forcing my spousal unit to read this because I loved it so much.


Spider the Artist by Nnedi Okorafor

Nnedi Okorafor is a writer about who I've heard good things about but not read very much. This story though. This story. Zombies and robots and a woman trying to escape an abusive household. This story packs such a punch and somehow left me grinning despite the subject matter.


The Narcomancer by N.K. Jemisin

Oh man how much do I love N.K. Jemisin. Well, I devoured her Inheritance Trilogy (which weighs in at approximately 1500 pages) in about three days, utterly wrecking my sleep cycle resulting in me emotionally tweeting Susan at 3am. That's how much I love N.K. Jemisin. The Narcomancer is actually the first thing I read by her, and is a lead in to her Dreamblood duology, which I desperately want to read. Set in Gujaareh, where peace is the only law, we follow a priest tasked with bringing down the Narcomancer of the title (sleep wizard–I could use one of those) in order to save a village. Only there are complications (aren't there always). Read. It. And also the Inheritance trilogy as well.


Effigy Nights by Yoon Ha Lee

(See edit)

Yoon Ha Lee is another writer I've been flailing about a lot this year. I bought her his anthology, Conservation of Shadows, on the back of another short story (Combustion Hour) and this ended up being my favourite. Lee's strength is in the interplay of her his words; I just love the way she he puts them together. I can flail for hours over the second line in this story. The second line! The story is about books, and is haunting and moving. I don't want to say any more. Read this story, then Combustion Hour, then buy her his anthology. You won't regret it.


Astrophilia by Carrie Vaughn

Another entry from the Mammoth Book of SF Stories by Women from the author of some of my favourite werewolf stories. No werewolves in this one though. Set after some cataclysm in which the human race has lost almost everything, this story is about one woman's search for knowledge and her struggle to fit in, with a little bit of romance as well.


The Cartographer Wasps and the Anarchist Bees by E. Lily Yu

This is one of those stories I wish I'd written. It is so, so good. Look at that title. Just look at it. Map-making wasps, bees rising up to overthrow their oppressors. Go. Read.


Goodnight Stars by Annie Bellet

This is an interesting one, having been caught up in the Hugos shenanigans this year (which I stayed the fuck away from thankfully), but I didn't hold that against it. From the middle book in John Joseph Adams' Apocalypse Triptych, this story is set smack bang in the middle of the end of the world. It's small scale, focussing in on a few people amid all the tragedy. It's a great story and made me want to get all three books in the triptych.


The God of Au by Ann Leckie

I am a massive fan of Leckie's Imperial Radch Trilogy, the first of which, Ancillary Justice, won literally all the awards. The second, Ancillary Sword, is even better and I am looking forward to the third even though it comes out about three days after my thesis is due in. 'The God of Au' is very different from the space opera setting of the Imperial Radch. Set mostly on the island of Au, this is a story about gods and promises and patience. It's the story that made me want to read Leckie's novels in the first place. I promise you this isn't the last on the list because it's less good than the others. It really isn't.


So there we go. Ten(ish) story recs, most of them free, and a few bonus novels to boot. Go, get thee to a book store (and also the internet, which I guess you're already on if–never mind.)

Have stories. Go read.



Edit: Since I wrote this post I found out that Yoon Ha Lee is in fact a trans man and not a woman. I'm electing to keep the entry up there because a) his stories are bloody amazing and I love them and b) there are also not enough SFF stories by trans folk that get showcased.

But so I am fulfilling my promise of having 10 SF stories by women here is one further recommendation:

The Lady Astronaut of Mars by Mary Robinette Kowal

This story won the Hugo for Best Novelette in 2014 and can see why. It's good. Very good. The story centres around an ageing astronaut longing for one last adventure. It's poignant and bitter sweet and made me cry my eyes out. You will not regret reading this, I promise.

National Flash Fiction Day

Late last night I learned that National Flash Fiction day was a thing, and that it was to happen on June 27th this year. I checked my calendar and realised that was today. I'm a pretty big fan of flash fiction so I wanted to do something for it. So I spoke to my friend Jay for a word count and a prompt and they delivered. I had 500 words to write about an "opportunity I decided to miss".

Challenge Accepted!

The resulting piece actually fills out some back story for a character in a film I helped make called Codex Noctumbra. You probably don't have to watch the film for it to make sense, but it would certainly be nice if you did. It definitely leaves things open for the story to continue, so watch this space.



Codex Redux

Susan flopped down on the bed beside me, a mischievous grin on her face.

My reaction was immediate and instinctive “No.”

She pouted. “But Trish,” she said stretching the vowel out into a whine. “You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”

“Your ideas always end up with me getting in trouble. The answer is no.”

She lay on the bed in silence for a few minutes, no doubt planning her next attack run on my sensibilities. I battened down the hatches and raised my shields.

“You’re my favourite twin…”

“I’m your only twin. That’s how it generally works.”

The pout deepened. “Fine. Don’t come with me. But I’m gonna have a great time without you. This guy Adam is showing us all sorts of wicked occult stuff…”

“Come on Susie, you know I’m not into that stuff. Besides, isn’t it kinda dangerous?”

“Not when you know what you’re doing.” Haughtiness and condescension dripped from her voice. I’d fucked up, and now she was pissed. “And Adam knows what he’s doing. He’s done this stuff before.”

I sighed. She’d made up her mind, there would be no stopping her now. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure. Do you want to come with me? It would be good to have someone there that I know. Please?”

She looked so earnest, completely abandoning the serious goth she tried to be most of the time. I was tempted.

“I’m fine, thank you. You be careful though.”

“I’ll be fine. Besides, nothing will go wrong.”

***

Everything had gone wrong. When the police started talking about chunks I had to leave the room to throw up and I couldn’t make myself go back in, not even to support mum. I sat in the hallway shaking and sobbing, calling out for my baby sister.

I later learned that she was one of the lucky (ha!) ones. She hadn’t been reduced to her constituent parts like some of the others. Susan died almost instantly after some sort of barb pierced her brain. There shouldn’t have been much pain. Somehow that wasn’t much comfort.

The police had no idea what had happened. The best theory they could come up with was a mysterious axe murderer but there was little to no evidence of that. Whoever—or whatever—had killed my sister and her friends had left almost to trace behind. I thought the police were wrong.

I struggled with the guilt for a long time. I should have gone with her, but then I’d probably be dead too, and mum would be all alone. Just another mysterious death in an unsolved case. As much as it hurts to live on without the other half of me, I’m glad I stayed home.

I never believed in the occult nonsense Susan was into. Not until she died. I think they summoned something that night, something that was stronger than they were and it tore them apart for their arrogance.

One day, I’m going to find whatever did this, and kill it.

Lets go Camping: NaNoWriMo April 2015

I have never been particularly known for being a sensible person. Case in point: I decided to do a PhD despite several people helpfully pointing out that PhDs are terrible and difficult and will eat your soul before you are done. I did it anyway and, lo and behold, it has been occasionally awful, definitely difficult and has probably consumed some vital part of my soul.

So, yeah. Not really a sensible person.

Which is probably why I ended up doing Camp NaNo this April. In the fourth year of my PhD. While writing my thesis. Told you I was a sensible person.

Camp NaNo is a lot like its bigger, better known sibling. You have a word count, and thirty days to hit it. There's a lot of advice and tips and support along the way, but ultimately its up to you. The main difference being that for Camp NaNo, you choose your word count. Anything from 10,000 to 999,999 words is accepted. (Though seriously, who the fuck decides that trying to write a million words in a month is a good idea?)

I've had a couple of novella length fanfic ideas in my brain for a while, and thought that April was a reasonable (ish) time to attempt a large, non-thesis writing project. So I set myself a target of 30,000 words—1000 words a day is pretty reasonable—and away I went. And as you can see by the shiny badge on the left right hand side of this post, I made it. I wrote 30k words in thirty days (26 actually, but close enough), making this the second longest fiction project I've ever written, by quite a large margin.

But I'm a scientist. It wasn't enough that I get a badge declaring my success, oh no. I had to graph it.

Because science!

Figure 1: It's definitely science if you make a graph out of it.

The black line up there on (lets call it figure 1, because dammit writing my thesis is getting to me) is the 1000 words a day mark, which is what I had to average to succeed. You can see by figure 1 that I started off well, sagged in the middle, had an impressive burst of productivity as I approached the word count goal (and the climax of the story) and then kind of went "ah, fuck it" after I'd won. Only once did I not make par, and I'm pretty sure that day was my first roller derby session, after which I was pretty justifiably knackered.

Figure 2: MOAR GRAPHS = MOAR SCIENCE!

I like this graph, even though it shows 90% of the same information as figure 1, because it helped me keep track of how many words I had left to slog through. Which at times was a critical piece of information, let me tell you. It also makes it obvious that I passed the halfway mark on day 15, exactly on schedule, and then accelerated to the finish. The last couple of chapters simply flew out of my fingers, let me tell you.

These graphs are a little misleading, because they make it look like I wrote nice and steadily throughout the month. Let me tell you now that getting off to a good start really made a difference. I ended up a couple of days ahead pretty quickly, meaning I had to write less to stay on target. So, how many days out of the thirty did I write 1000 words or more?

Figure 3: This many.

Eighteen out of the thirty days did I manage to hit my daily target. Most of the time when I hit the target I exceeded it by quite a way. Those days when I didn't hit the target? Those were basically how many words I needed to maintain par. And then there's day 22, where I somehow managed to knock it out of the park. I wrote 2222 words that day, and that was the beginning of the end. I knew I'd won at that point. I kinda feel justified in taking a few days off at the end, especially since on top of all this writing I was doing my regular work, writing my thesis and falling over a lot on skates. Go me.

The story is currently at 31,210 words and is not quite finished. There's just the epilogue to finish, but I'm happy to leave it for a little while. I did it; I succeeded at a NaNo, which I've been wanting to do since forever, and I proved to myself that I can fit a decent amount of writing into an already hectic schedule. This story isn't quite finished, and already my brain is bursting with new ideas for stories.

This was mostly about proving something to myself; that I can write, and I can write fairly consistently. Thesis writing isn't forever, and though I don't know what's going to happen afterwards, I do know that I want to write, no matter what my day job. This has helped show me that in the long term, writing on top of a day job is something I can do.

In the short term, it was a lot of fun and I am super proud of myself. I am also super proud of the spousal unit, who did this camp NaNo along with me and wrote his first feature length script. Like any NaNo project, its not polished (goodness knows my novella needs work) but there are some real laugh out moments in that script. And it was good to have someone else along for the ride.

Sadly, I probably won't be able to do camp NaNo again in July, nor the main NaNoWriMo in November. I expect to be flailing about impending viva for the duration of November. But NaNo is definitely something I plan to do again in the future.

Just have to get this pesky thesis out of the way first.

Flash Fiction Challenge: They're Coming

In the absence of the Pictonaut challenge I have slightly latched onto Chuck Wendig's flash fiction challenges to keep me churning out fiction on a semi regular basis. I have loads of his prompts saved waiting for me to do something exciting with them. Which I will. Oh such plans I have.

In the meantime he put up a challenge to write a drabble of exactly 100 words.

I adore drabbles. I love the challenge of telling a story (or a snapshot of a story) in exactly 100 words. I'm afraid I'm a drabble purist; very exact on the word count.

I can do this, I thought.

So I did. And here it is. Exactly 100 words of science-fictiony type goodness. You're welcome.

They're Coming

The message read simply: they’re coming.

We’d always known they would; it was a matter of when, not if. We were a threat to them, and they would come for us sooner or later and that time seemed to be now.

Fortunately, the moment had been prepared for.

I scooped my daughter up in my arms and headed for the transport. I had to get her off planet; she, and a small number of other children were humanity’s only hope for survival.

“Where we going daddy?” Molly asked, frightened.

“On a little trip, sweetheart. Somewhere we’ll be safe.”

I hope.

On the third anniversary of Jamibu's death

I have no words.

I'm a writer; words are my thing. And yet this date always seems to rob me of my ability to string them together properly.

I can't believe its been three years today.

I still remember exactly where I was and what I was doing when I got the news. I honestly don't think I will ever forget the feeling of cold dread that washed over me.

Today isn't the only day of the year when my thoughts turn to you, Jamibu, but its the only date they do so without fail. My thoughts are also with your family.

I love you Jamibu. I will always love you, and I will always miss you.

Rest in peace.

Jamibu and I