Write, submit, repeat

Let's see.... "Spellcheck" came back from Neo-Opsis, with a note about the beginning being slow, but the part in the repair room holding interest. So I've trimmed the beginning a bit, and will try On Spec, another Canadian zine, where I may have an unfair advantage by being Canadian.
"Foretold" will go off to Cemetery Dance, though I suspect it's not quite dark enough for them. I haven't tried it on Strange Horizons yet, so that will probably be my next shot.
"Climbing Boys" has been revised, after helpful crits on OWW, particularly one from Eric Lowe, who suggested changing the setting from Neo-Dickensian with sf touches to straight Dickensian. The central conceit of the story is (I believe) sfnal, but he may be right that the other sf details are more distracting than enhancing. Dammit. I now have two versions of the story, one sf, one, um, alt-hist, I guess. Is that sf or not? There are no airships.
Anyway, I'll probably send the sf version to F&SF for the quick turnaround, and the alt-hist version to RoF after that.
I don't know what to do with "Fluke". It's too long for most online markets. Kelly Link really liked the first half (Editor's Choice on OWW), and compared the voice to Connie Willis and Jennifer Crusie, but that doesn't get me a sale, does it? Torgo suggested it was two sf ideas fighting it out in one story, and I think he has a point, but I'm not at all sure what to do about that, if so.
I'm a bit further on with the Boxer Rebellion story, still undecided about the title. The working title is "Elementary Magic" which is both misleading and blah. I've found the books on the Boxers that I had before, and may have a chance to get back into it before leaving for Pennsic. And I need to read up on the Chinese theory of elements, so probably I should poke through the Joseph Needham history, Science & Civilisation in China.

Research: Reading more on the German Small States, for Willow Knot, and messing about with maps. I need to name at least two 'kingdoms' (Palatine states?), with cities and some towns.
Mark, in his helpful way, suggested that I only need one name, and that everything else will be Nord-name, Ost-name, Ober-name, Unter-name, Hinter-name, etc.
For which there is something to be said, though I might have to anglicise or latinise the system, because the story-setting isn't exactly Germany. Hm, Name-parva, Name-magna.
At the moment I'm happily reading through a list of the German States and Families in the Imperial Assembly, 1792. While it isn't always possible to tell from the list which are states and which are families, here's a selection of names (some of which I've seen in other contexts, some of which are quite new to me):
Vorpommern
Hinterpommern (see?)
Nomeny
Moempelgard
Hohenzollern
Savoy
Thurn und Taxis
Taxis for Eglingen
Traum for Eglof
Isenburg-Birstein
Isenburg-Buedingen-Meerholz-Waechtersbach
Leiningen-Hartenburg
Leiningen-Heidesheim and Leiningen-Guntersblum
Wild- und Rheingraf zu Grumbach
Wild- und Rheingraf zu Rheingrafenstein
von Colloredo of his own person (probably not a state)
Westerburg Christophsche Linie
Westerburg Georgische Linie
King of England for Hoya
I see much google-time ahead of me, as I make sure that my made-up names aren't in use for something else, or meaning something awkward. Joy.

Side note: I have learned the meaning of palatine and of allodial, just today. Okay, I did know vaguely what Palatine meant, despite my early impression that it was a geo-political association like the Hansa. But only vaguely. I'm good at vague. For many years I thought an isotope was something like a cyclotron, and that bespoke was a type of weave, like twill or tweed. This is what happens when you guess meaning by context. I should be more tolerant of M--'s conviction that cloying means 'sticky'.
Secondary side note for those who are not already more knowledgeable than me, this public service announcement:
palatine adj. possessing royal privileges, having jurisdiction (within the territory) such as elsewhere belongs to the sovereign alone; of or belonging to a count or earl palatine.
allodial adj. from allodium n. (hist.) Estate held absolutely, without acknowledgement to an overlord.
bespoke adj. Ordered (now only in bespoke tailoring, boots, etc. as opp. to 'ready-made').

tight shot of fluttering calendar pages

All too soon I shall be off to the Pennsic War. Too soon in terms of all the things I need to Get Done before leaving. I desperately need to make more linen clothing because it will be bloody hot and humid, and wool is not the answer. And hose, I need hose that doesn't have holes in the toes.
I have to get my prescriptions refilled, so that I can pick things up and manipulate simple tools etc. I've already been caught by a prescription running out unexpectedly and having to phone my doctor and the pharmacy and the rheumatologist's office in order to get more Naproxen. Maybe, I thought to myself, I was supposed to stop taking it and not renew the prescription? Why else would it end before my next appt?
I'm such a chronic illness n00b.

Things to fuss about: the plants being watered while I'm gone. That the peas and beans will all come in, and wither on the vine. The Transparent apples will come ripe and fall and rot instantly (Transparents are like that) and none of them will last to be dehydrated. Whether I'll get any writing done. I'm bringing the laptop, but experience suggests that I'll spend much of the day lying very quietly in the shade, hoping it will be cooler after the sun goes down. Still, we have electricity in the tent, so it will be possible to write and revise, if I can find a way to sit up and do it.

Things to be pleased about: missing some large chunk of the construction going on at the university, as they append a building that is not a library and contains no books (Centre for Learning, it's called, as if most buildings on campus had nothing to do with learning.
I shall miss the 'deconstruction of the exterior walls', referred to in several emails. I'm quite curious which philosopher will be brought in to deal with this. Presumably someone quite persuasive, or who has taught enough undergraduate courses to be familiar with speaking to brick walls.
But enough heavy-handed sarcasm. How about straightforward annoyance?

This quoted from the Library Gateway:

Name the McPherson Library Café Contest

UVic Libraries invites all UVic students, faculty and staff to participate in a contest to name the new café that will be opening on the main floor of the McPherson Library this fall as part of the Mearns Centre for Learning.

Please go to: http://gateway.uvic.ca/coffee between July 3rd and July 20th, 2007 to submit your suggestion(s). Participants may enter the contest as many times as they like.

The winning suggestion will be chosen by the University Librarian and a panel of judges.

The winner will receive a $50 HFCS card to spend at the new café and other Food Services locations on campus.

******************************************

Yes, that's correct, there will be a cafe attached to the library. The contest is being advertised in the library's elevators and stairwells, with posters in an early-60s scribbly pastel style. The graphics are a ponytailed girl sipping coffee over her laptop, and a steaming coffee cup balanced precariously on a stack of books.
Usually this poster is right across from the one that advises that there shall be no food or drink in the library and explains how spills and crumbs attract vermin and damage books.

About half my job is replacing damaged books (and lost/stolen books). The library already has a conveyer-belt book return that reliably damages heavier or fragile books. Now we're making it even easier for students to bring food and books into intimate relationship with each other.
Really, I have plenty to do for the next couple of years, just with what I have on hand. Really.
I suppose I can use it all as material when I get around to writing Bookwyrms. In the meantime perhaps I should suggest some names for the cafe.
Coffee Rings
Stained Pages
It Was Soaking Wet When I Signed It Out (yes, this has been given as an excuse)
Crumbs & Spills

But I said I was done with the heavy-handed sarcasm, didn't I? So I'll stop

fingerprints and a retinal scan

And what did you do on your vacation?

It happens that if you are volunteering at a govt-owned site, you need to have a criminal record check done, a concept I don't quarrel with. All of us engaged in the Living History week accordingly filled in forms with our birthdate etc. and sent them in. Some of us are in the military, or teachers, or already registered as volunteers, so were already covered. Others had to be run through the machineries of bureaucracy.
And of the roughly a dozen, who has a suspect name? Why, that would be me. Barbara Mary Louise Gordon, born Dec 25, 1957. There is, somewhere, a person with a criminal record, my first and last name, and possibly my birthdate.
It's like heraldry, in a way. Once you have that many points of resemblance, little things like middle names don't count as points of difference.
Therefore I must be fingerprinted, and the fingerprints sent (snail-mail) to Ottawa, or possibly to Montreal, depending whether one reads the police website's info on criminal record checks, or looks at the pdf the Parks people have emailed me. Of course, fingerprinting can be done Wednesdays only, at 1:30 pm only. And by the time Parks had informed me that I "may or may not have a criminal record" (but isn't that true, really, of everyone? she mused profoundly), oh, well, it was pretty darned close to the event, let's say.

Parenthetically, I was fingerprinted electronically in June, courtesy of US Customs and Immigration, and a fine botch they made of it, though I blame the equipment more than the people. Apparently at least 5 uniformed people must stare at the Mac to work out each screen. (IM IN UR NASHUN, STEELIN UR JOBZ, and I say no more because I'm still too annoyed to be properly Canadian about that incident.)

I arrived at the main police station, which has a wonderful piece of public art outside, by Jay Unwin, depicting, according to Robert Amos "working class heros propping up a marble column inscribed 'peace and harmony'", but which I have always mentally named "The People Crushed by Bureaucracy" because it looks like a 5-drawer filing cabinet falling on a crowd of nudists. Tragically, I can't find you a pic of the sculpture.
But let me not be diverted by public art, because I might be drawn into inveighing against architects, and then we'd be here all day.
Right.
The woman behind the (probably unbreakable but with a convenient gunslit-shape slot) window is a wonder. I was in a stroppy mood, and if I was, more obnoxious people than me must have been arriving ready for a fistfight. She was impressively calm and radiated in the 'I am here to help you' spectrum.
Which was good, because it turned out that Parks hadn't sent me the right letter. My letter said I should have fingerprints done, but didn't mention anywhere that it was for a volunteer spot. Which meant that I'd have to pay $50 for the fingerprints, and Ottaway would want another $20 for processing. Volunteers have the fee waived.
There followed some moments of AAARRRGHH, silently expressed.
Fortunately, she gave me the go-ahead to get the fingerprinting done anyways, then she would hold onto the form, until I could come back with a proper letter, that said 'for a volunteer' on it, on proper letterhead. And it had to be me bringing it in. Then we'd trade letter for form, and all would be well.
Coming in again, versus $70 to the govt? A clear choice.
So I waited my turn, and went in to the little side room, where the inkpad and the nice police man waited, and the fingerprinting was done in seconds. (The electronic pad took about 15 minutes, and that was on the low end of the range, from what else I saw. Yeah. Technology makes everything better.)
Then off to the washroom to remove evidence. See, even when I'm not working with quills, I still get ink all over my hands. It's a geas or something.

On Tuesday, first day really back in the modern world, I had my long-awaited ophthamologist appt, to examine my eyes front & back and record the current state so that they'll know if I become partially blind from meds.
It's only in the last few years that I've had anything more than a basic optometrist exam, and I'm still not used to having drops in my eyes and going around with hugely enlarged pupils. This would be my first real opthamology exam ever. It took longer to schedule than the rheumatologist exam, but that's probably unusual luck with the rheumatologist.
I sat about for a while in the exam room, finally wandering over to look at a chart of what can go wrong with your macula. The macula in a healthy state looks rather like a nice slab of fresh salmon, to judge from the paintings. I spotted the example of 'chloroquine retinopathy' with its 'characteristic bulls-eye pattern' and put that together with hydroxychloroquine, because I'm good with those foreign words.
The opth'ist wore a Hawaiian shirt. It did not, fortunately, resemble any of the states that one's macula can end up in. And he gave me the Very Good News that he had not, so far, seen any of the chloroquine damage show up when hydroxychloroquine was used. So yayness about that.

The next couple of hours (yes, really) involved having various liquids squirted into my eyes (to my intense disappointment, he said none of them would cause my eyes to glow under blacklight, bugger, I was looking forward to that), me apologising for my over-active blink reflex, another squirt to make up for that, and me sticking my face into a chin and forehead brace so that very bright lights could be shone through my eyes right to the back of my head. Oh, and contact lenses briefly applied, to make the backs of my eyes more visible.
I tried to wear contacts once. See above, re: blink reflex. Mark's blink reflex is worse than mine, but he can wear disposable contacts, an achievement I blame on his greater willpower.
Fortunately, very little of this required me to answer questions about the relative depth of colours or closeness of one little light to another little light. Those always stress me, because I'm sure there's a right answer and that I'm not providing it.
That part will come later, when I'm scheduled for a field test, which reportedly involves staring at a point while little dots go zooming at it, and pressing a button when they hit. Already I dread this, because I so suck at the twitchy-flexy thing. I'm old, my reflexes have deteriorated, and weren't that sparky to begin with. I asked whether young kids did better on that, and the opth'st said no, they had trouble keeping their eyes on the point, and the machine could tell if you cheated.
Good news is that there doesn't appear to be anything wrong with my macula or retina, other than that I'm extremely short-sighted, and that has its own potential problems. But hey, still good news.

I went in to work for a not-terribly productive afternoon, wearing my cute plastic-cutout shades that slide behind the real glasses, and after dinner I went to bed. Apparently having bright lights shone into your artificially opened pupils is tiring. At least for me.

By the way, googling doesn't seem to bring up anything about my evil twin. There's a Barbara Gordon who shot a man in 1997, but she was 33 then, which makes her not the right age, quite, plus she's American (Kentucky?) and thus unlikely to show up on a Canadian database.
It's also quite difficult to structure the search terms to avoid comics websites, especially discussions of the Joker shooting Batgirl.

off to the past

To be absent from the keyboard for the next week, for our annual Living History demo at Fort Rodd Hill. (The photos at the link are from several years back, and the encampment is considerably more elaborate now. But the current photos are on my laptop, and the laptop and the desktop are not speaking to each other. Sigh.)
For the next week, I will be Linot Fitton, painter of the Peynter-Stayners Company of London, one of several artisans gathered for a fair in the year 1371. I will sleep on a featherbed over a straw tick, eat meals cooked over an open fire or in a clay oven, wear linen and wool, and stick my nose right up to whatever I'm working on, because I don't have 14th c. eyeglasses.
Fortunately, the strict interpretation is only required while the park is open to visitors. Once it closes, we can break our roles, and the Norse encampment or Cavalier encampment can mingle with the Plantagenet encampment. And those who wear eyeglasses can see clearly again.
Canada Day is the big day, and for that I expect to be writing children's names--Your Name Written With a Feather--for several hours. Harry Potter has been good for the business of writing with a quill. If it slows down (and during the week, when traffic is less anyways) there may be time to show how to cut a quill and for interested children to get ink on their hands trying one out.
Which pales before the thrill of seeing the guys working with wooden waster swords. That draws a crowd, always. As does the weaver (not the same crowd) and the cooks. "Is that real food? Are you going to eat it?"

The only accessible electricity is a plug in the women's washroom, so the laptop stays home. I will rediscover the joys of writing in a notebook (not tm) with a pen. I won't know what anyone is doing online until July 3d. Try not to get into trouble while I'm gone, okay?

day of mayhem

Well, that is what they called it. "A Day of Mayhem for Readers and Writers". In practice, it was just what you would expect of a literary workshop in the Greater Victoria Public Library, in semi-genteel Victoria BC (former slogan: More British than Britain!)
I arrived early, because it was free and one couldn't reserve a spot. Biked down in the grey morning with a little spitting rain, and locked the bike up in the atrium. Earlier than I'd expected to be, and the doors were still locked. A half-dozen people hovered near the double doors, the sort of sight that reminds me of Romero zombie movies and causes me to keep a cautious distance away. In case.
Lurking behind the concrete planters, I placed mental bets on which of them were also there for the workshop and which just wanted in to the library. I was right in a little over half, which makes me not psychic.
After I'd read a chapter of King Hereafter, by Dorothy Dunnett (and decided that I'd have to treat the political background the way I treat landscape description in John Buchan, by trusting that it all made sense to the author and would work out as needed for the plot without me fussing about it), a whisper went through the courtyard that the workshop could be reached through a side door. And so it proved, though we were warned not to use the bathrooms until the library was officially open.
The meeting room had one wall all of windows, showing the atrium. Fortunately nothing terribly distracting happened out there during the day, and later arrivals had an easy time finding the right room, since they had to walk past it outside, and could see the attentive audience.
I sat between two older ladies (yes, older than me, though I'm not sure the one on my right was very much older) who had been in the same writing group. We talked about writing groups, and they compared the various groups they've been in. I recommended Absolute Write as the best resource I knew for checking out publishers and agents as well as general advice.

First talk was on plotting. Stan Evans is a stocky bald man, very English, of the sort that seems to be constructed entirely of some sort of india-rubber, perhaps the kind they make Pink Pearl erasers from. I could imagine him staunch at any outpost of Empire. Unexpectedly, he writes a Salish detective, Silas Seaweed. His view is that plot is everything. Decide on your plot and work it out before starting. Violent crime tests and proves the sleuth, and he required 'at least one death by criminal action'. Absolute authenticity was required in the setting (his stories are checked over by Salish readers and by anthropologists, as well as heavily researched before writing). He also recommended deciding ahead of time whether to have a continuing detective, and whether you are writing detective or mystery-thriller, because the rules are different.
Bob Scott looked more creased and saggy than he might have, because of being next to Stan Evans, like a comfortable baggy pair of trousers beside an ironed and brushed uniform. He told how he'd started writing. After a diagnosis of cancer, and being told to take it easy, he decided to enter NaNoWriMo, and finished a mystery novel in that month. A while later he took it out of the drawer and decided to revise it. He met an editor for Avalon Books at a conference, and sold the book. He described himself as a linear writer. He started with the opening scene, which he saw clearly, and worked the story and backstory out as he wrote.
Kay Stewart co-wrote with her partner, Chris Bullock. She found that co-writing required that they plot and outline beforehand, though the outline changed as they wrote. The first book took twelve years to complete.
Things said in the panel discussion: introduce complications, clues and red herrings to keep from reaching the ending too quickly. Pacing is an aspect of plot. Introduce new complications to keep things moving. Always ask yourself: how can I make this situation worse? Subplots flesh out characters and introduce complications, but beware of them sucking energy from the main plotline.
Names dropped: Anne Perry plots with sticky notes over a wall in her office, and was ecstatic to discover (at the Surrey Writers Conference) that N America has multi-coloured stickies, so that she could have different colours for specific characters and subplots. Marilyn Bowering says that every scene has a shift in the balance of power. Scott Meredith says to end every chapter with a hook.

Second talk, on Evil. Roy Innes, thin, greying and intense, stoops a bit forward as if scenting a trail. Holds to the Morality Play theory of crime fiction, the satisfaction fo seeing vice punished and virtue rewarded. Distinguished between the detective novel, where the emphasis is on the puzzle solving, and the thriller, where the emphasis is on the threat to the protagonist. The hero is the confronter of evil. Evil defined as 'pleasure from doing harm'. While the hero may not be pure, he cannot be too impure without losing reader sympathy.
Chris Bullock leans back in his chair and speaks calmly. He's a Jungian, and quoted Scott Peck with 'sin is militant ignorance'. Described evil as both something within people, and as a separate force with its own existence. What is the nature of the investigator? The killer may be invisible because the investigator shares (and denies) aspects of himself that he shares with the killer.
Linda Richards, arrived late and perhaps because of that somewhat distrait. Untidy black hair, comes across as ditzy granola-head, but that may be persona, it's hard to say. She doesn't believe in evil as an absolute. Anyone is capable of either evil or saintly behaviour. Allow your villains to be human and complex. Arendt's line about banality of evil quoted. Villains don't think they're villains--ask yourself what story your villain would tell about him/herself.
Things said in panel discussion: What must you connect to in yourself to write an evil character? Does it do you harm, or does the resolution of the mystery resolve the issues raised? Evil must be motivated, must have a goal that is worth what the person does to achieve it.

Setting: Lou Allin, small, tough and weathered, like a piece of driftwood, which is odd, because until recently she lived in Sudbury, not on a coast. All her stories have been set in Sudbury, but she can't take the winters anymore and now she's writing a story set up-island, where she lives. Read an excerpt from one of her books (Memories are Murder? I'm not sure) where the heroine encounters a beaver trapper while walking her dog. It probably read well on the page, but while she read it out loud, she added so many comments and explanations about what is shown or hinted at by this or that detail that I had difficulty picking the story out from the glosses.
David Russell, sleek, with smooth blond hair, a high-school teacher who set his story in a high-school. Practiced speaker (to be expected) with small jokes scattered through, enough to raise a smile without distracting from the topic. Read an excerpt from Deadly Lessons, a scene in the classroom with an inattentive student. Easier to see the virtues in that piece because they weren't being waved at.
Bob Scott, filling in for the absent Chudley. Read the opening of Advertising Murder, the discovery of a body in a highrise office. The story was originally set in Victoria, but his editor asked him to change it to Vancouver, for better recognition. (This amuses, because in films, it's Vancouver that stands in for other cities.) Since he'd relied heavily on his own familiarity with Victoria, and had never lived in Vancouver, this was an alarming development, but he did the revisions.
Said in panel discussion: landscape defines character. Setting can be a character. A school or office in the good part of town will have a different atmosphere than one in a low-income area. Juxtaposition, putting a graveyard across from a school sets up themes and forebodings. Being physically in the setting is useful for the evocation of details, texture, smells. Research, learn the geology, flora and fauna, what animal tracks you might see, etc. Keep the local colour and detail in check, enough to visualise but not so much it will distract (readers will differ on the right amount). Local colour and accurate names and mapping will make the book popular with local people (free dinners possible at restaurants).

What sells? Editor Lynne van Luven, possibly the most businesslike-looking person present, short styled hair and suit-jacket (business casual? not that I'd know) described the process for NeWest press, a slushpile and panel of readers. First reading was of 2-3 chapters, submissions divided into regrets (the really impossible ones) and potential (anything not really awful). Next round was reading by group of 3, required 2 of the 3 liking it. What they looked for:
1) good writing, not ornate but simple clear style
2) a new angle, but not too cute, an inventive but credible detective
3) credible mystery.
Frances Thorsen, Chronicles of Crime bookshop, also in a suit jacket, but wearing it in a more rumpled and professorial way, thick black hair and a narrow face. Local bookseller working closely with local authors. Victoria is a tourist town, often visitors will come in asking for a mystery with a local setting, for combination souvenir and vacation reading. She recommended that new writers try to have a personal relationship with local bookshops, being available for signings and readings, be willing to work with bookseller. It helps if the bookseller likes the story, finds the setting and characters enjoyable and evocative.
James Hawkins, grey hair and beard, would actually be a good character actor for a tv detective series (BBC most likely), gives the impression of much stored energy and determination. He's described as a consumat salesman, criss-crossing Canada signing and reading at every bookstore he can reach. Often sells 80 or more books at a signing (since the average number is supposed to be 5, this is darned impressive). Anecdotes of setting up signing table for best traffic, being helpful to staff, attracting passers-by.
He reminds writers that they are small businesses and should take advantage of that. Revenue Canada recognises the difficulty of making it as a writer, since they allow authors to declare a loss for 7 years, and other businesses only 3 years. Selling to the publisher is only the first step, next writers must sell to the public. Mystery writers need a new book coming out each year, to keep their names current.
Discussion of covers and their effect on sales, that small presses may consult with authors on cover art, that display space, posters, shelf space etc. are all paid for by publishers, their investment in the books (so writers must invest as well, was the moral, I think). Writers need to learn about the media, about opportunities for radio interviews, especially locally (major media coverage also bought by big publishers), don't expect any radio hosts to have read the book, other than Joanna Roberts at All Points West.
Of note: Dundurn Group pays an advance of $250 Canadian (no, that's all the zeros, there are no more). That's based on an expected 500 sales. Selling 3000 in Canada makes you a bestseller.

At the lunchbreak there was an opportunity to have a page of your work critiqued by one of the writers present. Oddly, I don't think more than 5 or 6 people took advantage of this, and yet the audience (varied, but about 50 present) must have been largely composed of hopeful writers. Since I do have the first chapter of a historical mystery (written for the Debut Dagger contest) handy, I printed out the first 2 pages (because it's double-spaced in SMF, and there's no point giving anyone a page that isn't the first page) and brought that in. I figured if 2 pages was pushing it, the person could always just read one.
I got David Russell, and very nice he was. I apologised for the black line running down the page, since I hadn't had time to fire up the good printer. He read both pages, and turned the second page over looking for more, with a faint noise of surprise that there wasn't.
Good things: good turn of phrase, dialogue rang true, evocation of setting, encouraged not to let myself be pressured into watering down my prose.
Things to fix: the wider setting, like what part of Italy, needs to be established by the second page, and it's okay to drop in terms like 'painter of Florence' to satisfy that curiosity. Also, the murder or mystery needs to come in pretty quickly.

During lunch and afterwards the authors had books out for sale and signing, but I'd spent my money on lunch, so was unable to buy anything then. No, wait, I had $5 left, and James Hawkins sold me one of his for that price, because the first hit is free. I chatted with him briefly, and got the impression that his major motivation for the frenzied selling is that he enjoys it. He wants his books to be read, he wants to affect his readers, he believes in his books. And more power to him, but I'd rather be writing, myself.

Last week my husband, ever mindful of my interests, and ever listening to the news broadcasts, heard about this event:

Saturday, June 9
In Celebration of National Crime Writing Week Crime Writers of Canada present
MURDER MOST FOUL

A Mini-Conference on Crime for Writers and Readers

and thought I would want to attend, especially since it was free and on the Saturday.
Mind you, the last time Mark poked me about a mystery-writing opportunity it was the Debut Dagger competition, and he found out about it 2 weeks before the deadline. They only want 3,000 words including an outline, he said blithely of that, you could knock that off in one weekend, easily, and you've got two! What about the research, I asked, when do I do the research?
The annoying aspect is that he was right, and I did manage to come up with a detective and a setting and an opening chapter, though I had to brainstorm with him to figure out what the baddie was actually trying to accomplish with his attempted murder. While attending an out-of-town SCA event. Thus I twitched when he started to tell me about another opportunity, and hid my head.

Fortunately, this demanded nothing of me except showing up and listening to panels. Schedule as follows:

9:30 a.m. Toil and Trouble: Plotting
Featuring authors Stan Evans, Bob Scott and Kay Stewart

11:00 a.m. The Heart of Darkness: Confronting Evil
Featuring authors Chris Bullock, Roy Innes and Linda Richards

12:30-1:30 p.m. Blue Pencil Cafe
Bring one typed page of your writing for a 10-minute critique by a published author

2:00 p.m. A Local Habitation: Setting
Featuring authors Lou Allin, David Russell and Ron Chudley (who didn't make it)

3:30 p.m. The Mystery of What Sells and Why?
Featuring author James Hawkins, bookseller Frances Thorsen and freelance editor Lynne van Luven

4:45 p.m. Book signings

I was relieved to note that all the authors were published by commercial publishers, since sometimes, at small local workshops or classes, people who published with PublishAmerica or other vanity or scam publishers may lecture and be attended to as if they had gone through the mill properly.
The biggest press mentioned was St. Martin's / Minotaur and Mira, who published Linda Richards. NeWest Press, Rendezvous Crime and Touchwood Editions I'd class as small Canadian publishers. I hadn't heard of Dundurn, described as the biggest independent Canadian publishing group (not even sure what a publishing group is), or of Avalon Books, who produce books for libraries, rather like Five Star.
The Crime Writers of Canada catalogue that was a freebie at the event was informative, though I was less reassured by finding one PublishAmerica book, one Trafford, and two Hilliard and Harris titles. The requirements for joining CWC range from being professionally published (undefined) to being 'interested in crime writing' (fan).
It's late, and I'm sleepy and stupid. I'll describe the talks tomorrow.

should I change my blog name?

Because the phrase "Writting Broad" gives me great joy. I found this half-size clipboard in the dollar store and bought it immediately, just for the name. You probably can't read the white captions on the photos at the bottom, but they read, from right to left:
'softly consider' (whether you really want to sit on a marble bench in that short a skirt)
'soft job' (but nobody opens doors for you)
'a soft tongue' (will disconcert the guy sitting next to you).
Almost better than 'Writting broad', but alas, not visible, even when I messed around with the contrast and brightness.

Writey stuff: I've finished the first draft of "Climbing Boys", and am uncertain whether to leave the disruption of the Ladies Society for the Alleviation of Indigence meeting as a brief reference in a conversation or to write it out as the opening incident. I'm also uncertain whether to keep the Punch-and-Judy metaphor in the ghost-sweeper's non-technical explanation, or use it as Ned's pov in the actual ghost capture.
Probably I will put it on OWW and get some opinions. Or not. I've been slowly vanishing from OWW, and the last chapter I had up there of Willow Knot got, oh, one review, from Dorothy Winsor (accepted for this years Viable Paradise, by the way, go Dorothy!). Fold got several reviews, but except for Cathy Freeze's, I suspect it was because of falling during the annual review drive. Some didn't seem to know how to take the story, which I do understand, because it isn't my usual thing, and it's not realistic, more like a dream, with dream-logic and characters whose ages and genders are unspecified.
On the other hand, "Climbing Boys" isn't anything too strange, structurally at least. A little Mervyn Peake influence sneaking into the style, perhaps, but pfah, he's practically mainstream by now.