For my part, I learned a lot. As with any workshop, you learn as much about writing from listening to others critique something that you’ve also read and critiqued as you do from people critiquing your own work. It’s always eye opening for me to hear what other people have to say about something I’ve tried really hard to find all the faults in. Invariably there are things that I missed, and it’s in those moments that you can grow as a writer if you internalize those thoughts.

Don’t get me wrong. I got a ton out of my first-50 crits and my novel crits as well. I have an issue with likeable protagonists. I try to paint them as people that need to grow. I show them with weaknesses early on so that the reader can see that they’re not perfect, that they have room to grow. That they’re regular people, basically. But the way I go about doing it is a bit off, I think. First impressions really count in fiction. It’s important to show them with heroic or admirable qualities early so that later, when they do see the bad stuff, they’re already predisposed to like them. The exact same person could be portrayed in an opening scene, but if the bad stuff comes first, then that’s what sticks with the reader. Not that my characterization was exactly on the money, either. I was a bit off the mark with Nikandr, the Prince and windship captain who the story is largely focused on. He came across as infantile, whiny, petty. I certainly wasn’t trying to portray him that way, but that’s certainly the way he came across. So I need to work on that. I think (hope) that those traits begin to fall away as the book progresses, and so the majority of the rework is going to come in the early parts of the novel. But I’m sure those changes will lead to other changes later on.

So I have my work cut out for me. I’ve got a long way to go and a short time to get there (at least by my self-assigned schedule), but I’m very hopeful that the end product is in sight now. I’m going to shoot for having Winds done by the time World Fantasy rolls around.

I got quite a lot of good, sound feedback. I very often (and my current novel, Winds, is no exception) try to paint the protagonist as human, and in doing so I write in weaknesses. Trouble is, the reader’s first impression is then of a weak character, and it has a lasting impression. I really have to work on choosing the right amount of heroism for the protagonist and later show weaknesses.

The other primary issue that came across was the timing of the novel opening. Specifically, I was starting the story a little too early. It’s a common problem, and often easy to fix. Just start later and sprinkle in any necessary information that was cut into later parts of the novel. I think this one will be an easy fix. The character issues? Not so much.

The following message went up on my blogs today under the heading, "Books for Breasts." At the end of this copied text, I’ve got a special message for fellow Codexians:

Followers of my blogs, and the readers who read the acknowledgement pages of my books, will know that I lost my partner Laura Herrmann to breast cancer in May 2005. I’ve been interested in cancer research since then and have privately made contributions to cancer related charities, but I’ve never put out any sort of appeal on my blogs to solicit for this cause, until now.

Last week, I received several cases of my latest book Dragonseed. One of the ongoing themes of Dragonseed is the idea of healing, both from physical and spiritual wounds. Within the book there’s a miraculous object called a dragonseed: Eat the seed, and all your injuries will be healed. Even your oldest scars will vanish.

I have some science fiction hoodoo underlying the dragonseed. The technology to create a pill that will both diagnose and cure any illness is pretty far out in our future, if it exists at all. But, the part of this that isn’t science fiction or hoodoo is that I believe that technology has the power to work miracles. We have MRI and PET scans that can look into a human body and see it working in minute detail. We have developed surgical tools and techniques that can remove diseased tissues from a human body without doing undo damage to healthy tissues. My father had a heart attack recently, and the doctors had to place stents in his arteries. The incision to perform the operation was small enough to cover with a band-aid. And, right now, there are researchers who are taking apart cancer cells molecule by molecule to understand the genetic engines that drive them to a degree unimaginable only a few decades ago.

We live in an age of miracles because we live in an age of knowledge. Modern computers are finally powerful enough to process all the complex data contained within a human cell. The only barriers remaining between our present understanding a cure for any disease you can name are time and money.

These are not insignificant barriers. New technologies are always expensive. And, to be blunt, the world has a limited supply of really smart people, and a nearly unlimited supply of problems for them to solve. For better or worse, money is one of the most important driving forces of where the smart people focus their energies. In the sixties, it was decided we would put a man on the moon. We threw money at the problem, and produced a glut of rocket scientists. In the eighties and nineties, computer technology was fed enormous sums of money by the stock market, and smart people focused their energies on designing hardware and software, and with the result that today my cell phone has more memory than I do. There is a lot of money today flowing into health care, but only a fraction of this money goes to research of any given disease. I’d like to invite you to increase the fraction going to breast cancer research, both due to my personal connection to the cause, and because I think that this is the right moment in history to truly make a difference. I firmly believe this is a disease than can be cured within our lifetime. I don’t know if one day we will simply swallow a magic pill and be healed, but I do know that the day will come when we will be able to profile any cancer cell and match it with the appropriate drug to wipe it out.

To help bring this day closer, if only by a minute or two, I’d like to announce my "Books for Breasts" promotion. Anyone who contributes to the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation through the "Team Dragon" fundraising page will get a free signed copy of Dragonseed.

You can contribute to the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer foundation by clicking here. This will take you to my personal fundraising page; just click the button that says "support James." Then, to get your signed copy of Dragonseed, just email me your mailing address to nobodynovelwriter@yahoo.com. I’ve set aside 50 copies for this cause; if I give them all away by the end of July, I’m pretty sure I can get my hands on another 50.

I’ve set up a modest goal of raising $300 through this promotion. This means I need to average contributions of $6, which is less than you’d pay for the book on Amazon. However, I’ll send you a book for a contribution in any amount, even if it’s just a buck. Spend a buck, get a book, save some breasts. Who’s with me?

So, the project I chose is called Cirque du Lumière. It was a novelette I wrote at Clarion and that was published in DAW’s Fellowship Fantastic anthology last year, but I had earmarked it even while I was writing it for a potential graphic novel translation. I’ve completed the first script, which is essentially half of the novelette. I imagine it will be six issues total, or three novelettes (if I end up writing them in that fashion, which I think I will).

I don’t know a whole lot about the comic creation process beyond the script, but luckily Rick knows a bit about it. I’ve given him the script, and then he’s going to generate thumbnails, which are very rough, sketchy-type drawings of the scenes. They’re meant only as placeholders with very little detail so we can both agree on the panel layouts, the characters in the shots, the camera angles, etc. That should be interesting. I’ll scan and post one of the thumbnails when they’re done, but for now, here’s a teaser for the script (formatting’s a touch funky from the cut-n-paste from Word):

 

PAGE 1 -

 

1- Ext. Blighted, desert landscape. Day. Full page shot.

 

The circus troupe is traveling over a desert landscape. They’re on a ridge, getting ready to head lower toward a flat, rocky plain that leads to the city of Alé Surçois. Along the lower-right of the horizon is the shield-city (large but not overwhelming). The city’s hemispherical shield acts as a lens, bending light like the lone remaining piece from God’s own kaleidoscope. Towers and buildings and arching bridges can be seen within, each painted with an indigo brush against a harsh yellow canvas, and to the city’s left, running northward, a slim line of white traces a curve over the blighted land.

 

PAGE 2

 

1- Ext. Blighted, desert landscape.

 

Viewpoint is much closer to the troupe now. Grignal considers the landscape from the top of a small rise.

 

Grignal narration:       My favorite part of our crossings is always the end, not because our time in the badwinds is nearly over, but because the city still seems alluring and full of promise.

 

Grignal narration:          Nothing could be further from the truth, of course — Alé Surçois is in the midst of a fierce and bloody political battle — but I can’t help pretending at times like this.

 

2 - Ext. Blighted, desert landscape.

 

Grignal in the foreground, showing him from behind. In the background is Bayard, the troupe leader, waving to Grignal, annoyed. The line of wagons moves on, except for one, which has become stuck.

 

Bayard:                        “Grignal!”

 

SFX Trailing Wagon:    Zzzzz-Zzzzzzzz (or something appropriate for spinning tires)

 

3 - Ext. Blighted, desert landscape. Bayard, doffing his top hat, walking back toward the wagon line.

 

Bayard:                        “Keep your eyes on the line!”

 

Grignal:             “Sorry, boss man.”

 

SFX Trailing Wagon:    Zzz-Zzzz-Zzzzzzzz

 

4 - Ext. Blighted, desert landscape. Grignal reaches the stuck wagon, which is little more than a mishmash of ancient tank parts and welded scrap metal.

 

Remmiau, the show’s knife thrower, stands by the front of the wagon, staring with coral-colored eyes at an ancient fusion engine. His brown bowler is in one of his hands as he clears his forehead of sweat.

 

Remmiau:                     “About time, you big ugly lizard.”

 

PAGE 3

 

1 - Ext. Blighted, desert landscape.

 

Grignal, an annoyed expression on his face, is lifting the wagon as Remmiau sits on the driver’s bench, pressing on the accelerator.

 

Grignal narration:          Remmiau’s always saying things like that.

 

Grignal narration:          He mostly doesn’t mean them.

 

Remmiau:                                 “Such a sour puss. No one would ever guess how thin that skin is, would they?”

 

SFX Trailing Wagon:    Zzzzzz

 

2 - Ext. The wagon is on its way again. Grignal is walking next to it while Remmiau steers it toward the rear of the line.

 

Remmiau:                     “Listen, son, I might have a deal for you if you’re nice.”

 

Grignal:             “Not interested.”

 

Remmiau:                                 “Oh, I know what you’re thinking. The last one went bad, am I right? But this one’s simple. Simple as pie.”

 

3 - Ext. View from the front of the wagon with Remmiau steering it and Grignal walking beside it. Remmiau is staring straight ahead, but looking sidelong at Grignal.

 

Grignal:             “They’re always simple, Rem.”

 

Remmiau:                                 “No, I mean really simple. A pick and a pop, half now, half when we reach Balgique-en-Leurre.”

 

Grignal narration:          He means a body. Someone wants a person, most likely in a cryosleeve, transported to the troupe’s next stop.

 

Grignal narration:          I don’t care one way or another who–the troupe took on jobs like this often enough–but Remmiau seems too eager, which can only mean trouble.

 

4 - Ext. Grignal has stopped, allowing the wagon to continue. Remmiau is looking back over his shoulder.

 

Remmiau:                                 “Right, you be that way, but lizards need dosh just like the rest of us. You remember that.”

 

5 - Ext. The city looms large in the background. The wagon is further on, but Grignal still stands in that same spot, looking at Remmiau and troupe.

 

Grignal narration:          I know Remmiau’s right. He pays well enough, and he’s one of the few people that’ll actually hire me. But his deals, no matter how simple they seem, always manage to develop complications.

 

We got into the call, and my boss starts talking about a long talk he had with his boss over the weekend. I was just waiting for it: the word that we were all being let go. I was already trying to figure out how I was going to pay for insurance, my mortgage, where to find a new job, etc., etc. But getting let go wasn’t the end of his story. Long story short, the small group of eight guys I work in is getting broken up and split across several different products in Tivoli’s stable. We are currently in an enablement team, and anyone who knows anything about big business knows that enablement doesn’t produce dollars, and in an economy like ours, they look very, very closely at things that don’t directly pay their own way when it comes time to make cuts.

I feel fortunate not to have been let go outright. I’ll be working with a new tool called Maximo. It’s an asset management tool meant to help medium- to large-sized businesses track their stuff, virtual or real. It’s apparently a growing segment, so hopefully I can fit in and be successful. I’m worried that it’s going to mean a lot of travel, but right now that’s only a fear. I don’t really know what the job will entail at this point.

To get things started, I called my local power company, which happens to be WE Energies. They forwarded me to FocusOnEnergy, an outfit that is paid for via a levy that was forced on Wisconsin power companies by state law. In other words, the power companies pay for FocusOnEnergy, but they wouldn’t be doing so if they weren’t forced to by law. They paid for 50% of the solar assessment, which is great. It only cost me $200 to get it done. And the assessment itself gives me detailed information about what sort of panels would work for the house, where they should go, how much power I can expect them to generate, and what rebates and credits I’m entitled to.

I’m also paying for a home energy audit. That guy’s coming tomorrow, and I’ll share info about that process as well.

This is an interesting article from TreeHugger, but what I found really interesting were the graphs near the bottom about Community-Supported Agriculture.

Here’s another story: in January I paid $325 for vegetables that I won’t see until June, and I’m tickled pink over this great deal. That chunk o‚ money bought a 25-week prepaid subscription to Siena Farms‚ produce for the entire season. Siena Farms are in Sudbury, the next town over (in the other direction). By paying up front in the winter months, the time when farms most need the investment income to support the next growing season, I’ll helping ensure there’s a viable organic farm in my community. Farm-fresh vegetable subscriptions are called community-supported agriculture, or CSA. Currently there are more than 2200 CSAs in the USA, and a bunch are still taking subscription sign-ups. For $13/week, I get half a farm box of locally-grown-and-picked-that-day, organic, heirloom vegetables will feed my household through Thanksgiving (the other half is shared with two of my Earthwatch colleagues).

I’d never even considered such a thing. A subscription for fresh, organic produce. What an awesome idea. I looked at the CSA website and found two local growers. One was already sold out (180 subscriptions). The other has not yet sold out and I’ve sent them an email to find out more of the details. Specifically, I’m not sure if you really have a choice of what your subscription basket contains. I realize they can only supply what they’ve already grown (i.e. what’s in season) but I wonder if I can load up on stuff I like and drop the stuff I don’t or if they fill a basket and I get what I get. I’m curious to learn more.

I’ve been thinking about collaborations in general the last few days. This was my first try as a seasoned author. I know that collaborations will be handled in all sorts of different ways. For me and Steve, we divided the story into two parallel tracks, one “past” storyline and one “present”. Those also happen to correspond to the two main characters in the book, each of us focusing one of those characters, though I write about Steve’s character in my thread and he writes about mine in his.

Other than the difficulty of matching our schedules (he lives in Brighton, UK, I live in Racine, WI, USA), it’s gone surprisingly smoothly. I think one reason is that we have similar writing styles (though I will confess that I tend more toward plot-driven story — something I’m constantly working to mitigate — and Steve tends more toward character-driven story). I don’t think I have the right temperament to work with someone whose writing style is wildly different from mine, at least writing in this manner. (More on that in a moment.) I think another reason it’s gone well is that both of us have been very open to change, and I mean that in two ways.

First, we’re both open to allowing changes in the ideas that we’ve come up with or the things we’ve written. This is entirely necessary, I think, to a successful collaboration. You have to be able to give, even if it’s not quite how you would have done it alone. It may not even necessarily be better than what you would have done by yourself, only different, and that’s a different kind of benefit: you expand your horizons by allowing things to enter the story that you coudln’t have thought of on your own. That’s not to say that most of our suggestions don’t make the story better. Many of them do. But there are some where it’s almost a coin toss as to the benefit to the story. It’s more about personal tastes, background, tendencies, etc. And then it’s a matter of negotiating and trying to figure out which stays most true to the story and the characters.

The second way of being open to change is to have the chutzpah to recommend changes. I think we’ve both been very forthcoming about this, not being worried about offending the other. You can’t, assuming you really want to include someone else on a writing project, close yourself off to ideas. There have been a few cases where we’ve both had to just sit on an idea for a few days, mull it over, before coming to a decision. But, of course, you have to be able to stand up for something you believe in as well.

Even worse than recommending changes is actually rewriting certain sections of prose that the other wrote. When you’re reviewing, you’ll often suggest things, give examples of change. But this is out-and-out changing what someone wrote. I don’t mind when Steve does it with my prose, but I feel like I’m walking on eggshells when I do it with his. It’s a constantly changing landscape, doing this. It’s like walking inside one of those bouncy carnival tents: you never quite have your balance, no matter how sure-footed you are on solid ground. It’s a tightrope act. You have to get over your fears while not acting like a bull in a China shop.

I mentioned above about not wanting to work with someone whose style was wildly different than my own. What I mean is that I couldn’t tackle a story in this way: both of us writing, both editing one another’s prose. But I could envision another way of working, and I know collaborations that have worked this way: both writers plot the story and create the characters (see, there I go again — I put plotting first…), but only one person writes. Then both edit, and one person (usually the same person again), incorporates the edits. Lather, rinse, and repeat until the story’s finished. That way, the story comes out with a single voice. Otherwise you might end up with a Frankenstein story that has clearly different writing styles in different sections. (That might be pretty cool for the right kind of story, but those stories are vastly outnumbered by those that would benefit from a single voice. Plus, both writers would have to be really good to pull something like this off. It’s not something I think I’m ready for yet. Maybe someday.)

So far, it’s been a great experience. And I think the story’s going to be a good one. Time will tell…