The writing process...

So you know that old joke about the anthropologist who is doing field research in a remote jungle, and one night, across the river, drums begin to play, many loud drums. And the anthropologist goes to the village headman, who tells him, "Do not worry about the drums. Worry when the drums stop."

For days and nights, the drums continue, but no matter how many times the anthropologist asks the headman for the meaning of this, the only answer he receives is: "Do not worry about the drums. Worry when the drums stop."

Finally, late one night, the drums. Stop.

Terrified, the anthropologist runs to the headman. "The drums have stopped! What happens now?!"

"Now comes the bass solo."

Now come the rewrites...

Friday Cat Blogging!

Spike is a 22 pound male, eleven years old, who loves loves loves little Sorscha (she's around 16 years old). The love is mutual. I frequently find the two of them cuddled together and they love to groom each other as well. It's awfully cute!

Mundane Things I Gotta Do...

For some reason, no matter how much time I theoretically have (and not working, there's a lot more of it), I still end up with a sort of tunnel vision when I get close to the finish line on a big project. Or in this case, a draft of a big project. I will emerge now and then from my weird writing coma and note that there are bags of paper (consisting of all the mail I've been shoveling into them that I've otherwise ignored, and the bags are a step up from the Random Piles of Paper that frequently occur before the Bags of Paper step), bills to pay, rugs to vacuum, laundry to do and to fold and to hang, dishes to wash...

In other words, I look up and realize I'm surrounded by chaos. And stuff I gotta do.

In this case, aside from cleaning up the aforementioned mess, I need to do my taxes. I have to put a Reader's Guide together for ROCK PAPER TIGER (a reader's guide? I am clueless!). And because I've met all kinds of wonderful writers lately, I really really really need to update my blogroll and links, particularly because the more organized among those folks have already got me on theirs.

At the moment, though, I'm sitting on my couch with two out of the three kittehs, it's RAINING (again!) with intermittent thunder for good measure, and what I think I'll do next is...continue to sit here a while...

New commenting system...

In what was one of the more clumsily handled transitions in recent interwebz history, Haloscan was phased out and replaced by something called Echo. We had the option of taking Echo or...nothing! that is, losing all our old comments (they could be "exported" for import into some future theoretical commenting system by a means that didn't yet exist). Anyway I didn't act on this so my account got ported to Echo. And it sort of works, but for some reason the comments aren't showing up on the main page today. You can't get to them by clicking "comment" either, but you will if you click on the title of the post in question.

I'm hoping they will magically fix this but I suppose I need to go complain to someone...

Enjoy the game, those of you who are watching! (I will be)

ETA: Comments are back -- it seems to have been a widespread problem.

And...GEAUX SAINTS!!!

ETA 2: Oopsie. Comments are gone again. Sigh.

Take THAT, homicidal WIP!

I typed "End" on the draft at about 3:30 AM Friday. Oh, wait, I actually didn't remember to type "End" till later in the day. But the draft is done, in spite of the sneaky little bastard of an MS trying its best to shorten my life through anxiety-provoking, non-cooperative behavior. Those of you who have had similar writing experiences know what I mean. The rest of you will just have to take my word for it -- the story was out to get me.

Now I need to name it.

On The Job Training...

So today I had kind of a shock...a good one...a Google alert pointed me to a Publisher's Weekly article listing upcoming Spring 2010 fiction/first novels -- one book per publisher -- and ROCK PAPER TIGER was the pick under Soho. I don't know if this is any kind of big deal or not, but it felt a little...weird.

I realized that for all the years I've been writing and pursuing a creative career, I've never actually thought much about what it would feel like to have some small success. I'm still not sure what I feel, to be honest (and it's too early to be making pronouncements about "success" in any case). But I seem to be spending a lot of time reflecting on writing as a career and what it means to be an author, on how I'm handling it and what I might do better.

Writers talk a lot about the passion they have for their work. I'm not sure if passion is what drives me. Passion implies an excitement, a thrill, and though I'll hit stretches when everything flows and I'm feeling some of that, I can't count on passion to get me through an entire novel. Novels are, you know, long. Very very long. And they have to be rewritten a lot. And when you sell them, there's even more work involved.

What I count on instead is a certain pride in craft, consistency and the small amount of discipline that I possess. And patience. Patience that I'm going to be able to solve the next problem in front of me. Patience to not get too freaked out when it isn't coming or it's coming really slowly. The importance of patience is something I'm just now figuring out.

So what does this have to do with my odd reaction about having my book featured in a PW article? (which though hard to define, I'm guessing might have something to do with shyness, embarrassment, a fear of exposure...)

I think, maybe, this is connected to my desire to do a good job. Because at a certain point, namely, the point where people are paying you for your work, it is a job, not just a passion. And right now, one of the things I'm feeling is that I'm not working hard enough at improving my skills, at doing a better job.

I need to read more good books, books that can teach me something about craft. I don't mean books about the craft of writing, but books that illustrate it. I want to read great stories, beautiful language, rounded, developed characters.

Suggestions, anyone?

Bad blogger...

No donut. Hell no. I'm having a glass of Rioja...

So far the end of last year and the beginning of this one have been kind of tough. I'm rooting for a positive change when the Year of the Tiger rolls around on February 14th.

Anyway, I'll be back with a new post in a day or two, and hell, I might even do one about writing. Yeah, that.

Friday Cat Blogging!

Ghost and ARC!

Please consider a donation for Haiti

The news coming out of Haiti is beyond horrific. So many people already living on the razor's edge; now this.

Nathan Bransford has links to Doctors Without Borders on his site -- they are a fine organization. You can also text "HAITI" to 90999 to donate $10 to @RedCross relief efforts in #Haiti. It is that simple. Learn more here.

I know these are tough times, but every little bit helps in the face of something like this.

UPDATE: The text messaging campaign was set up by the State Department, which is coordinating the massive relief efforts underway. They've already raised three million dollars that's going for immediate needs on the ground. Keep it coming, folks. And you can't go wrong with Doctors Without Borders either. Oxfam is another good choice.

Laura Hruska

This is not the post with which I wanted to return to blogging, but so far this young year seems to be marked by loss.

Laura Hruska, publisher and editor-in-chief of Soho Press, passed away this weekend. She was a cofounder of the press, profoundly shaping its strong and idiosyncratic vision.

I never got to meet Laura. I was hoping to do so this summer. What I know about her is that she helped create a publishing company with real vision and guts and integrity. That she took chances. She took a chance on me and my book, and I will always be profoundly grateful for that.

Another thing I know about her: not long before her death, she did an interview with the Houston Chronicle about Stuart Neville's wonderful GHOSTS OF BELFAST, in which she managed to not only promote the subject of the interview but get in plugs for a whole range of upcoming Soho titles, including mine.

Now that's a publisher.

She will be missed.

Here are some links to articles about her...

Idiosyncratic Mind

Stuart Neville's blog

Shelf Awareness

Houston Chronicle article

Welcome 2010...

It's a new year and a new decade. I've had some things going on that have made posting impossible for the last two weeks. I'll be back on it soon, with a few more posts about my China trip, among other things...

Wishing everyone the best for this new beginning...

Cat people

There's a Cat Lady in the Beijing compound where I was staying. Old, round, bundled up in layers of quilted, padded clothing, hunched over a wheeled cart she fills with kibble and canned food for her charges, the outside cats who live on the grounds. Apparently they have different food preferences, and she is very concerned with making sure that each gets what it wants. She has her own tribe of cats too, indoor cats, "four or five," she told one of my hosts, as if she weren't sure.

I had a chance to talk to her briefly, as she made her rounds. I stayed at a distance but still frightened the orange and white kitty she was feeding, though she told me that he ran off when she tried to give him medicine for his ear: "he has a hole in his ear," she explained. "The first time I gave him medicine, he wasn't afraid, but the second time, he was." I wish I could have understood everything that she told me, but I did get that much.

I saw one of the cats she feeds as I was leaving for the airport today, sitting in a box against the wall, a little shelter against the bitter cold of the last few days. He is a big orange cat, regal, wonderful coat, and if anything, slightly overfed, and he sat there with his eyes half-closed looking content with his box and his world.

I like that there are cat ladies in Beijing. I like that this elderly woman gives care and attention to these cats and receives affection and satisfaction in return. Pets were considered a "bourgeois" habit in the past, and though you can always make arguments about the morality of caring for pets in a country where millions live on the razor's edge of poverty, to me, it's a sign of humanity allowing to shine.

My favorite Beijing bar is a little place on a hutong off Gulou Dong Dajie, owned by a Mongolian. He recently took in two kittens -- I saw them in July when they were tiny, and again in November, at the beginning of my trip -- two adolescent females with the run of the bar, climbing on the laps of patrons and up and down the tree in the small courtyard. The owner lavishes considerable attention on these kittens. They have their food (good quality) and their litter and if you ask him about them, his eyes go all soft. Apparently this is a change from his former persona: "He used to be a conquerer of the steppes!" a friend told me. I always thought he seemed friendly enough, but apparently he was somewhat of a hard-ass. No more.

My last night in Beijing, I stopped in at the bar to meet that friend for a drink. The kittens were not there. The owner had taken them in to get spayed the day before. We asked after them. The owner explained: "They are at home. They need to xiuxi" - to rest.

A souvenir in questionable taste...

I mean, okay, the Red Guard, that's one thing. But the victim of a struggle session? That's a little dark even for me...

The privatization of everything...

To anyone paying close attention during the criminal clusterfcuk that was the Bush Administration's conduct of the Iraq War, this will come as no surprise. There was plenty of evidence for private contractors' (AKA mercenaries) participation in interrogations such as those that took place in Abu Ghraib. Still, here's another emerging piece of evidence illustrating how deep and how pervasive the corruption was...and I use the past tense here advisedly. From the NYT:

Private security guards from Blackwater Worldwide participated in some of the C.I.A.’s most sensitive activities — clandestine raids with agency officers against people suspected of being insurgents in Iraq and Afghanistan and the transporting of detainees, according to former company employees and intelligence officials.

The raids against suspects occurred on an almost nightly basis during the height of the Iraqi insurgency from 2004 to 2006, with Blackwater personnel playing central roles in what company insiders called “snatch and grab” operations, the former employees and current and former intelligence officers said.

Several former Blackwater guards said that their involvement in the operations became so routine that the lines supposedly dividing the Central Intelligence Agency, the military and Blackwater became blurred. Instead of simply providing security for C.I.A. officers, they say, Blackwater personnel at times became partners in missions to capture or kill militants in Iraq and Afghanistan, a practice that raises questions about the use of guns for hire on the battlefield.

Yeah, it sure does raise some questions. Here's one the article doesn't ask: why did the United States government empower a private firm owned by a right-wing Christian militarist, involving it in the most sensitive clandestine missions and not incidentally enriching its coffers by lord knows how many millions of dollars?

Will we ever know? Not if the Obama Administration persists in its enabling by continuing Bush-era policies and protecting Bush administration officials from prosecution*, and continues to insist that we "look forward," forget about the past, nothing to see here...

*and my posted link is by a pundit trying to give Obama the benefit of the doubt...

What a country...

I'm back in Beijing, where I plan to take Chinese classes (already signed up, had my first session today) and do all the writing I'm supposed to be doing (er...yeah. That). Yesterday I had the great good fortune to meet author and long-time Beijing resident Catherine Sampson -- I highly recommend her most recent novel, The Slaughter Pavilion , an insightful look at modern China and a great mystery too!

We met for coffee at one of Beijing's best known foreign language bookstores. I'm used to finding officially censored materials in Chinese shops -- I find a lot of that in DVD stores. But I honestly was not expecting to find this displayed prominently by the cash-wrap.

Some things I don't even try to understand any more...

Awesome...

I have no explanation...

If it's Tuesday, it must be Yangshuo...

I'm staying in a small village outside of Yangshuo, on the advice of guidebooks warning that Yangshuo proper, with its "West Street" filled with bars, backpackers and banana pancakes (apparently backpackers and banana pancakes go together like, I dunno, white on rice) was hardly the peaceful retreat that I craved after the urban overload that is Shanghai (even if I did spend most of the time lounging on my friend's couch). This village is awesome. It features several inns, including one with a rooftop Italian restaurant and a full wine list, and a cluster of "farmer's restaurants," dishing out the famed local specialty, "beer fish." And what could be wrong with beer fish? Nothing, I tell you. I had some, and it was delicious.

Apparently it was primarily these farmer's restaurants that transformed this village from a poor backwater to a prosperous little place whose residents are busily competing to see who can build their house the highest (I'm told that no one even occupies the upper floors; it's all for show). The restaurants attract busloads of Chinese tourists, every day. The food is cheap and good and they've cut some deals with the tour operators.

Chinese tourism is a pretty recent phenomena, and it feels that way, reminding me a bit of post-war American tourism, with its packaged tours, busses and guides waving flags to lead their charges to the next historic location ("We're walking, we're walking, we're walking..."). It can be a little depressing at times, seeing these large groups go here and there, wearing identical baseball caps, pausing in front of the designated scenic site to pose for photos, then onto the next in obligatory fashion, not seeming to take in much about the actual site at all.

Other times, I watch the tour groups, and I feel completely charmed by them. A lot of these domestic tourists are older, and I think, if you'd asked them thirty years ago if they ever thought they'd be touring their own country in air-conditioned busses, posing for photos with their loved ones, enjoying the scenery, they would have considered the notion highly unlikely, if not completely absurd.

And more and more I see Chinese travelers who take a more independent approach. Around Yangshuo, the favored form of tourist transportation is bicycle. This is a great area to bike. The traffic is light on the main road, and the side roads take you through some of the most staggeringly beautiful, unearthly landscapes I have ever seen. There's a silence here that's rare in China, when you are out on your bike, just the birds, the flowing water, the wind pushing against the trees and the earth. I see a lot of younger Chinese travelers, mostly in pairs, sometimes in small groups, on rented bikes, exploring the countryside. What a different experience this is from following around a guide reciting her memorized spiel through a distorted bullhorn.

Chinese tourists, stop uniting! You have nothing to lose but your chains...

Scenes from my walk today...

(you have to click on this one to see the whole sign and why I shot it)



(this is a goof on a wide-spread Chinese internet meme from earlier this year -- pretty funny!)

The view from my window...

And these don't really do it justice...