Tuesday Tales - first judging appointment

Judge's word: Twist

I had my first judging appointment today, for the weekly microfic competition at Tuesday Tales. So impressed with the quality of the entries; they did not make my job easy. My winners are up, together with what appealed about each entry.

Check them out.

It was a great experience. Far, far more fun than my one and only agility judging appointment. That one still gives me a nervous twitch. Note to self: If you are ever stupid enough to find yourself judging an agility competition again, do not set the A frame up next to the window to the cafe, so that every armchair critic can second guess your judgements on the contacts.

No, not "everyone has klout". Some of us don't want it

I read an interesting post today, on why someone deleted their Klout profile. I've read several posts over the last few weeks where people have been discussing the algorithm that Klout uses to determine how influential you are on social networks, and thought, "I wouldn't sign up for that mess of social-anxiety-in-a-jar if you held a gun to my head." As a shy person who doesn't make friends easily, to me it represents the same kind of soul crushing popularity contest that made me feel like a worthless waste of oxygen in my teens, and like hell am I am going to subscribe to it as an adult too. Having fun with social networks? Who cares, let's talk how important you are.

How lucky I am, then, that I didn't need to sign up. Those lovely, thoughtful people at Klout, who know nothing of my contempt for popularity contests or concern about things being done in my name without my knowledge, just made me a profile anyway. Thanks, guys.

Now you can damn well delete it again. Now.

Tuesday Tales - because microfic is addictive

I won another round of Tuesday Tales, go me! The fact that I'm posting it now instead of last week has nothing to do with me procrastinating my tail off faced with three books to beta read, my word no. Nothing could be *cough* further from the truth. And I'm not stalling because I can't come up with anything for this week's round either.

No I am not looking shifty. You take that back.

Prompt word: Effervesced

I tip the powder into my water glass with shaking hands. It effervesces with a happy sparkle that promises forgiveness of my sins; a fresh start in one fizzy mouthful.

The wrappers of a dozen chocolate bars surround me, as much a part of the autumn as fallen leaves and fireworks. I bend down to gather them up and hide the evidence of my shame for another year. They disappear in the dustbin, lost among coffee grounds and cardboard. The wrappers are gone but I am left with my belly, as soft and sagging as the rotting pumpkin underneath them.

Genre hopping - choose your destination wisely

One of the best things about Fantasycon was that I found out about a lot of great authors. Thrilled with my new discoveries, I dived in and am just now emerging from a huge reading bender of British urban fantasy, gritty eyed and with a head full of monsters and mayhem. It was wonderful. These are the books I read and I would recommend any of them:

The Sweet Scent of Blood by Suzanne McLeod
The Naming of the Beasts by Mike Carey (I *really* wish I'd read these in order instead of grabbing five before three and four. It would have been even more awesome)
Into the Nightside by Simon R Green (an omnibus of Something from the Nightside and Agents of Light and Darkness)

However, I have learned the hard way not to stay in one genre too long. The corpse of high fantasy lies broken behind me on this path, burned out and lost to me, maybe forever. Can't let that happen again. Time for a change.

I've been meaning to read some of Georgette Heyer's books for a long time, because I've heard so many good things about them. Sarah Rees Brennan has talked about them in glowing terms, and I like her own books so much that I'll read pretty much anything she recommends.

Unfortunately, regency romances: possibly not a good choice of genre coming straight after an urban fantasy marathon. I like me some romance, I really do, but when you've just read books where vampires and demons are threatening everything the world holds dear, it's really hard to get excited about someone risking their position in the echelons of those born rich and entitled just by marrying someone not quite as rich and entitled as they are. None of them seem to work for a living. It's enough to make me come over all Bastille Day.

I don't plan to quit just yet; I'm only a few pages in. However, I might need to pick a different genre first and work my way down to that gentler level of sex and violence, where a bad marriage or being caught with your voluminous knickers down is possibly the worst thing that can happen to you.

Microfic win

I love microfic. It's a great way to keep writing when you're contemplating whether to print off your manuscript just so that you can set fire to it. To keep my fingers away from the matches I've been playing the Tuesday Tales at Glitter Word for a while and it's really good fun. Weekly 100 word microfic competition based on a photograph and a prompt word.

And this week, I won! Yay! Thanks to Stevie for a gorgeous pic and to Lady Antimony for accepting the bri judging. Go read the other entries too. Lots of awesomeness there.  I think the pic brought out the poet in everybody this week.

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Prompt word: Ensorcell


The girl sits on the opposite bank and watches me through hair that curls like water weed. Her bare skin glistens with the pond water that drips onto the grass.

“Are you a witch?” I ask. “Here to ensorcel me?”

She tilts her head to listen to the sound and smiles at me.

“Will you talk?”

She smiles again, showing needle-sharp teeth made to tear and rend, and slips into the water. I should be running. Instead I lean over to look for her, a pale wraith in the reeds.

Her smile widens as she drags me into her pond.

You know how sometimes a picture is worth a thousand words?

Totally.

On Fantasycon 2011

I was right to look forward to Fantasycon. Well, except in the financial sense, because boy, you don't want to go there if your TBR pile is too big and you don't want to buy another book, ever. Everybody I met, I wanted to go and and buy their books afterwards. I'll never have time to write again.

It's a very strange thing to be in a hotel around people that make you want to squee like a fangirl and realise that they are normal people. Well, on the cool end of normal, actually. SFF writers know how to have a good time.

Brighton was bizarre and wonderful. I can't think of anywhere else you would walk past a group of drunken stormtroopers on the way to the restaurant. Darth Vader was out for the count on the pavement. It is a place where you can expect to see guys heading for clubs wearing pink furry boot covers and stockings. Better than television.

And the best, absolutely the best thing, for me, was that the people I was around were proud to be SFF authors. No genre shame here, no 'I wrote a book, but it's just fantasy, a bit embarrassing really but it pays the bills'. They write amazing, imaginative books with the brakes off. They made me stand a little bit taller just by association. A few days before I was ready to quit, but I came back with renewed motivation to revise my manuscript and start querying. No small part of that was down to Mhairi Simpson, who is one of the nicest people I've met and tolerated my efforts to twist her YA shapeshifter romance into furry erotica (It's all about the CLAWS, baby).

I am so going back next year.