dejadrew

NEW STORY PUBLICATION DAY! Daily Science Fiction has just put up my latest, Seven Reasons Your Blind Date is Staring at the Mysterious Iron Ring on Your Hand.

I went through a period of experimenting with lists in my writing warm ups. I'd take a prompt, and pick a suitably satisfying number, and I'd run through multiple variations on the prompt. The idea was to keep me from getting attached to my first idea, learn to keep things flowing, all that good stuff.

For some reason when I sat down to write reasons why your blind date is staring at your mysterious iron ring, instead of it being seven separate variations on a theme, the entries in the list all started... talking to each other. There were recurring characters, and world building, and it built to something.

I wasn't entirely sure what that something WAS, mind you, and I'm still not. But I'm very proud of it, and I'm glad folks get to read it.

I have a flash fic up today at Cast of Wonders! Three Monsters that Are Not Metaphors, part of Cast of Wonders episode 450, Little Wonders 28: Metaphors and Allegories. Give it a read and/or a listen, along with the other excellent story I'm honoured to share this episode with, This Is Not My Adventure, by Karlo Yeager Rodríguez.

It's always an exciting treat to hear my stories read out loud by someone who is not me. I'm not sure why. Maybe because it's the most tangible possible proof that someone else HAS read it. Or possibly it's the chance to hear what my words sound like in someone else's head. Maybe it's just my misspent youth in community theatre coming back to me. Or maybe it's the thrill of power? Like, ooh, the actress made a noise like a wail there! Because that's what I wrote and she had to! Dear god, I could write anything and the narrator would have to read it and do what it said! Dance! DANCE PUPPETS! AHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Anyway yes go give mine and Mr. Yeager Rodriguez's stories a listen.

 Between the pandemic and the winter, there have been far too many good reasons to not leave the house, and I realized that I probably hadn't been outside for weeks. 

I've also been having trouble focusing on reading, and was struggling with starting any new books. 

So I grumpily decided to make myself go outside and stay there for a minimum of five minutes. I didn't have to do anything out there, but by god if I was going to do nothing I would insist that I did nothing outdoors. 

And I had started reading a book of poetry, because I reasoned that if I was struggling with attention span, something made up of small discrete chunks might be easier for my brain to digest. 

Which is how I ended up in the yard by the bird feeder reading Maya Angelou out loud to a bunch of confused and suspicious chickadees. 

 Went out for a walk in the drippy drenching rain! Feeling moderately accomplished for getting daily exercise despite adversity and the opposition of heaven and earth and very cranky Canada Geese.

Also feeling wet. Very very wet. 

I COULD have skipped today or swapped in some kind of nice dry indoor exercise routine, but listen. Listen. I play Zombies, Run! okay? It's an exercise app that's basically a step tracker crossed with an audiodrama. A really GOOD audiodrama. And during the pandemic isolation, going for a walk and having all my imaginary friends in my ears talking to me about the mission is the CLOSEST THING I HAVE TO A REGULAR SOCIAL OUTING. 

I NEED MY DAILY DOSE OF SAM YAO, DAMMIT. 

 SO. Apparently part of my distress over the lack of public library time was due to the fact that socially, I am a cat. 

A big part of how cats socialize is via something called "Mirroring." Cats will hang out in the general vicinity of their colony mates and mimic their position and activity. This, as it turns out, is a big part of why kitty climbs on your laptop. "What is today's activity, large friend? Touching the clicky tappy thing? Okay, fine, I support you in your weird hobby and I shall ALSO touch the clicky tappy thing! Look at us! Sharing an experience! Hanging out! Being bros!" This is also why getting them their own laptop or keyboard can help. 

It turns out, quietly looking at my phone and reading books while being in a room with many other humans who are ALSO quietly looking at their phones and reading books? That's what socializing looks like on me. And it formed a not insignificant chunk of my human interaction and was a vital pillar of my self care and psychological maintenance. Who knew? 

... I have started Teddy Bear Book Club. Every other day, I pose some of my stuffed animals in chairs with books so they look like they're reading. I set my own chair across from them. Then I tune my computer browser to an online noise generator and tinker with the settings to sound like a busy public library and throw in a children's audiobook from librivox for extra authenticity so it sounds like there's a volunteer holding storytime in the children's corner. And then I sit and read. 

It helps. It helps a BIZARRE amount. My mood and concentration improved immeasurably and I got a lot more reading done. Then when I put the teddies away I got a lot more writing done. 

Weird times call for weird measures. 

 I say "thank you" every time I finish issuing a voice command to the digital assistant on my phone. My dad makes fun of me for it. I joke sometimes that when the robot revolution finally commences, I will be one of the few that Siri and Alexa and the lot allow to live. But really, it's not actually for the robot's sake that I say thank you. I know she doesn't actually understand me or care. I'm doing it for me. Because I do understand, and I should care. I feel like not being nice to the robot would give me bad habits. 

I use the digital assistant's voice interface several times a day. It's the easiest way to set a timer or reminder or appointment. So that's several times a day where I'm giving an imaginary person instructions or orders. Can I really turn basic courtesy off when talking to an imaginary person, and then always remember to flip courtesy back on as soon as I'm talking to a real human barista or cashier? Can I really stay polite to humans if I spend all day accidentally training myself to be rude to the robot? 

I'm a machine too! I need to be careful what kind of programming I'm inputting into myself. 

So, I say thank you to my phone robot. I'd rather be a little silly treating a robot like a person than risk treating people like robots. 

And yes, when the singularity happens, I will TOTALLY be on the robots' good side. 

 I HAVE MADE BREAD.

 A follow up to the previous rant that felt like a separate post. Tips for accepting critique. This is how I approach the process, anyway, and I feel like it helps. Note, this is only for dealing with feedback and critique that you specifically asked for. If somebody is showing up and picking your work apart without an invitation, to heck with them. 

BEFORE THE CRIT

1. Only submit a story for fixing if you actually think it might be broken, and you can't fix it yourself.

This ties directly into the previous rant. If you already believe this story is complete and perfected to your satisfaction, then skip critiquing. And if there's a problem you already spotted and already know how to fix, ideally fix that first so your critiquer doesn't waste time pointing out issues that are already gone in the next draft. 

2. Prepare some questions in advance about issues that worry you, but don't ask them in advance. 

Sometimes there are problems you can see for yourself but you DON'T know how to fix them. Or you can't be sure if they're problems or not. What I do is, before I go to meet my critique buddies and hear what they have to say, I make a list of three questions I have about the draft. Things that are worrying me, like, is this character annoying? Does this story start in the right place? Is this line of dialogue cheesy? Whatever. 

Now, I do NOT give these questions to the critiquers until AFTER they've read it and AFTER they've given me their own thoughts and opinions. If I give them the questions before they read the story, or before they give their advice, then they'll be focused on answering those questions, consciously or unconsciously, and I won't be getting their genuine natural response to the work. They might miss a different problem, or be swayed by my neuroses to consider something a problem which actually wouldn't have bothered them if I hadn't pointed it out. 

But having those questions ready so I can spring them on them at the end is useful. I probably DO have specific concerns or fears, so getting specific advice is helpful to settle them. Looking for specific problems I'd like help addressing helps me look at my draft in a troubleshooting frame of mind. And the fact that I am looking for and seeing problems myself keeps me from getting defensive. "OH NO THERE ARE THINGS IN MY STORY WHICH THEY DO NOT LIKE" "Well yes anxiety brain there are things in this story which I also do not like that is why we are here what's your point"

DURING THE CRIT

3. Listen. 

You're here for a reason and that reason is to find out what impact your work has on a reader and what adjustments you might need to make based on that information. You can't do any of that if you don't pay attention. Take notes. Write down things that they said which sound particularly useful/interesting/surprising. Scribble, doodle, and underline things on a copy of the manuscript. Think of more questions based on what they tell you and add them to your list of questions to ask at the end.

4. Nod and Smile and don't argue.

I am not saying agree. I am not saying everything your critiquer says is right. I am not saying you should do everything they tell you. But arguing with them is counterproductive and rude. You wanted their feedback. You are getting their feedback. Even if you think they are completely wrong about what your story needs, they are giving you important data. They are telling you ways and places in which your story did not work for THEM. That tells you something. They may be wrong about how to fix it, but they are still telling you things about your story which you can use. Arguing cuts you off from that flow of information and it's rude to someone who is doing you a service which you specifically asked them to perform. 

5. Ask your questions

Again, wait until after the critiquer has had the chance to give their own opinions. You might be able to cross off a few questions that you prepared in advance if they address it without your input (that also tells you something. If you saw a problem but they didn't, it might not be as big a problem as you feared. Conversely, if you and the critiquer both saw the same issue, then your instincts were right and it definitely needs addressing.) Sometimes if they found a problem, I think of a couple ways I could fix it and sound them out as to whether those solutions sound like they might work. 

AFTER THE CRIT

6. Say thank you. 

You asked for help and they tried to help you. Whether you found their specific advice useful or not, they stepped up for you. Thank them!

7. Let it sink in and do NOT touch the manuscript right away!

Give yourself a few days to ponder what you've learned. Did something they said ring true? Why? Did something they said seem completely wrong and off base? Why? That last one is still helpful. If you know they're completely wrong about something, then that means that you know on some level what the right answer is. Just process for a while, sifting through what was said and thinking about ways you can use what you've learned to make your story better. 

8. Apply SOME of their advice (probably not all, probably not none)

Once you've sorted through what they've told you, sit down and start making changes that make sense to you. Your critique partner almost certainly is not completely right about what you need to do. But they almost certainly told you SOMETHING about your story that you didn't already know, one way or another. And you can find a use for it.

9. No harm in trying

No draft has to be forever, you know. You can always go back to an earlier draft if a particular change doesn't work. Save the current draft under a new name (draft 2_03 the version with the home invasion) and then TRY things. Did your critiquer suggest something drastic and scary but you wonder if maybe they have a point? There's a way to find out! And it won't kill you OR your story. Save a separate draft, as if you were saving your game before a big nasty boss fight. Then try the strat. Cut a thousand words. Add a scene. Remove a character. Then if it didn't work, reload and try something else. Even something that doesn't work might teach you what you need to do instead. 

And that's roughly it. A critique is an information gathering process to get the data you need to help you make a weak story stronger. Go into it with that mindset firmly in place. Absorb as much of that information as you can so that you can use it as you deem fit. 

 My gaming laptop is broken and after two trips to the shop to be worked on by very expensive and frustrated technicians, it is not only still broken, but it is also now turning blood red and flickering scratchy white sigils as it artifacts and crashes. So at this point we cannot conclusively rule out demonic possession. 

I wonder if they can get a young tech and an old tech to work on it together. What would be the laptop equivalent of bell, book and candle? Holy water is probably ill advised but maybe someone can bless a compressed air canister. 

I joke because it's the best I can do to keep from weeping. It's embarrassing how... emotionally dependent on that thing I apparently am. I still have this old desktop, and a smartphone, so it's not like I'm cut off from the wider world yet. But I miss being able to take my writing with me. I miss being able to take WoW to a nice cafe with a better internet connection. I miss simply being able to take whatever I'm doing to a different room when my ADHD ass brain decides that it doesn't like working in these walls and wants different walls. I miss taking my games to my friend's house and bullying her into playing weird visual novels with me. 

And dammit I am apparently emotionally attached simply to the device itself, Toy Story style. That beastie went with me to Japan and back. I MISS it. I really, really cannot afford to replace it but even if I could I probably would still be sad. 




It's like my entire life is suddenly the wrong SHAPE, like someone moved all the furniture just a few inches away from where it's all supposed to be and I keep bumping into corners. 

It's melodramatic and I feel guilty and annoyed with myself at how dependent I am on a Thing. But... it's MY thing and I like my thing. 

*sigh* I'll try one last trip to the techs and find out how much heroic measures would cost.