David D. LevineScience Fiction Author

Word count: 16823 | Since last entry: 297

First draft complete at 16,823 words. (I actually wrote more than 500 words tonight, but I also deleted the last couple hundred words of outline from the end of the file.) I like the character, the story’s structure, its emotional arc, a lot of the details. It needs to be streamlined and strengthened, and I think it needs even more period detail, but it’s a draft.

I think I’m going to have to treat this draft as raw footage — like the thousands of hours of tape that comes out of a reality show, most of which will never appear in the forty-one minutes of content that fit in an hour of commercial TV. It has to be a process of picking the bits that are necessary rather than cutting out the bits that aren’t. It will mean leaving a lot of darlings on the cutting room floor, but that’s the biz.

I can do this. And I will. Starting tomorrow.

Word count: 16526 | Since last entry: 2425

1500 words today at Camille Alexa’s, including the dramatic climax. Just one more scene to go. The story will probably come in at about 17,000 words, and will require much hacking and slashing to get down to the target 10,000 (or so) words.

After that, set up the grill and grilled corn on the cob (first of the season) and a nice spice-rubbed pork tenderloin. Oh yum.

Talking with folks at Camille’s I realized I’d never posted my theory of “hacks and artistes.” You may be familiar with the idea that every other driver on the road is either an idiot or an asshole: the idiots are the ones who are going slower than you, and the assholes are the ones who are going faster. Well, in writing it’s similar: every other writer is either a hack (someone you look down upon because their writing is more commercial than yours) or an artiste (someone you look down upon because their writing is artier than yours). Probably the same is true of many other art forms.

But this theory has a sting in the tail, to wit: in driving, by definition, one is never an idiot or an asshole oneself. But in writing, the concepts of “hack” and “artiste” are relative to one’s aspirations rather than one’s actual current performance. Which means that you can look at your own work and brand yourself as a hack or an artiste. Possibly both at once; writers can be very creative when it comes to self-denigration.

We saw Moon yesterday. I liked it a lot — it’s a serious science fiction film, heavy on the moral and intellectual problems and light on the thud-and-blunder. I had a few quibbles with some of the science, tech, and plot logic, but in every case I have to admit that the things they did “wrong” were the right things to do to bring the film in under budget and/or make it more accessible to a general audience. (One spoiler-free example: the characters bounce around like people in 1/6 gee only outside the lunar base. Simulating low-gee inside the base would have been difficult, expensive, and probably giggle-inducing, but on the lunar surface it’s familiar from the Apollo footage everyone’s seen.) Highly recommended.

Also seen recently: Duck Soup, outdoors on the roof of the Hotel deLuxe’s garage. I may never have seen the whole thing in one sitting before. Tons of laughs even for a 75-year-old film where I knew most of the jokes already. But the complete chaos, especially of Harpo, was a surprise. I had expected it to be a little more, oh I don’t know, coherent? Still, marvelous entertainment.

Word count: 14101 | Since last entry: 1238

Argh. This story is supposed to be 10,000 words long. It’s now about 13,500 words (plus about 600 words of outline in the main file) and I’ve probably got another 2000 words to go to wrap up the plot. Maybe more. The outline was too complex to begin with, I realize now. This is a common failing for me… too many scenes in the outline. I need to combine scenes, streamline, strengthen, move faster. Maybe even cut out a character or two. Probably everything I’ve written in the last three days will have to be cut. But maybe a few incidents or character moments can be preserved.

Oh well. Nothing to do but bull through to the end and then cut back. I’ve got almost a week and a half before the next crit group deadline… that should be enough time to finish the first draft and then give it a good whacking back. Maybe not enough time to whack it all the way back to 10,000 words, though. I’ll have to ask the editor if there’s any flexibility on length.

David Gerrold had a problem kind of like this with the first draft of the Trouble with Tribbles script: he was using a nonstandard 12-pitch typewriter, so his script came out the right number of pages but 20% too long. When he was done cutting it back, though, he found that the exercise had made it tighter and crisper. I think this story will definitely benefit from the cutting I’m going to have to do. (But can I get it all the way down to 10,000 words? We’ll see, I guess…)

Word count: 12863 | Since last entry: 1681

I’ve been following astronaut Mark Polansky (Astro_127) on Twitter, and thinking how cool it would be to see a shuttle launch someday, when I happened to receive an email from OMSI, the Oregon Museum of Science and Industry, about upcoming events. One of which was that they were going to show the shuttle launch on the big screen in the planetarium. Today. It just so happened that I had nothing specific to do at that hour this afternoon, so I went.

I showed up just as they opened the auditorium, half an hour before launch. There were about 60-70 people there, mostly families with small children, and an OMSI volunteer provided running commentary to fill in the gaps between the NASA announcer’s pronouncements. Leaning back in that planetarium seat, listening to the countdown and the poll of the various departments, and feeling that tiny personal connection with the pilot because of reading his Twitter feed, my heart really started to race as we got down to the final nine minutes. And when the Orbiter Access Arm (the bridge through which the crew boards) pulled away from the shuttle at T minus 7:30, the pilot waved at the arm’s camera as it swung away. Hey, that’s Astro_127 waving at me!

We were supposed to count along with the final countdown from 10, but the announcer didn’t actually start counting out loud until 5. It was still pretty impressive when it went up. And then we got External-Tank-Cam all the way to orbit, which was cool too.

On the way out of the museum I noticed a display of slide rules. How far we’ve come.

There have been some problems with publicizing the Writer’s Workshops at Anticipation. Due to a glitch with the Worldcon website, the workshop isn’t listed there and thus the submission process has also gone astray.

According to workshop organizer Oz Whiston:

“The Writers Workshops at Anticipation are small session workshops for either experienced or beginning writers based on manuscripts submitted in advance. These workshops provide Anticipation members the opportunity to have their manuscripts evaluated by selling writers and industry professionals who enjoy helping them grow as writers. Many of these professionals have taught at residency workshops, such as Clarion, or in creative writing programs.”

Information on the workshops, their guidelines and how to sign up for them can be found in the rest of Oz’s blog post. The deadline’s July 25th, which is soon.

I’m one of the pros tapped to do a workshop session this year, so if you’ve ever had an inexplicable burning desire to be critted by me, sign up in the next week!

Word count: 11182 | Since last entry: 1253

Spent the weekend in Seattle, visiting with our friend Janna. We had several very nice meals with her, including her birthday brunch with her friends Jack, Irene, and others. We had tons of fun playing with Sophie the new kitten and Spanky the not-so-new cat — it was like LoLCats Live! 24/7 and my jeans are covered with little kitten-claw snags — and although my allergies did act up it was never a serious problem. We attended the Clarion West party in honor of Elizabeth Bear at Mary Kay Kare’s; always nice to see Bear, however briefly, as well as many Seattleite friends (both old and new, permanent and temporary). We went to a steampunk swap meet where I scored a fabulous floor-length leather coat and we ran into several Seattle friends, followed by a fine lunch with Jerry and Suzle. We had a nice walk around Fremont and visited Cleopenguin in her new home. And we bopped down to Kent for an excellent Chinese dinner and a game of Apples to Apples with friends Hal and Ulrika.

But the main event of the weekend, and dominant emotional note, was Mark Bourne’s heart valve replacement. The plan was to hang out with Mark’s wife Elizabeth at the hospital on Friday and then attend the Clarion West party after Mark came out of the operating room.

It didn’t work out like that.

The operation went smoothly until they went to take Mark off the heart-lung machine and close him up, at which point his heart did not start up as it should have. Since then Mark’s situation has been a continuous medical crisis and a hell of waiting for those who love him. The details can be found in Elizabeth’s and Janna’s LiveJournals, but at last report his chest had still not been closed (they don’t want to do that until they are 100% sure everything is working properly in there) and he’s still in critical condition. The good news is that he’s been unconscious this whole time and when he wakes up he won’t remember any of this.

The model I’ve been using is that one’s social support system resembles the roots of a tree, with the weight traveling down the trunk and being spread out to successively smaller and more distant roots, putting less and less weight on each smaller root until it eventually vanishes into the ground. The weight of this crisis falls on Elizabeth, of course, and I think Janna’s in second position (she and Mark are Evil Twins and share a birthday, which happened to be the day of the surgery); I viewed my role as supporting them (especially Janna) with my physical presence, stupid attempts at levity and light conversation, and occasional errands. It didn’t feel like much but I hope it helped. I then turned around and depended on Kate and our Seattle friends, and so on. I thought I was handling it well until I showed up at the Clarion West party and EBear commented that I looked wrecked.

Anyway. Home now. Managed to write at least 500 words every day, if by “at least 500” you mean “well, anything more than 250 as long as it’s a good-faith effort”. Haven’t yet written today but there’s still an hour or two before bedtime; I expect to complete a first draft this week with a week to cut it back to 10,000 words before the next critique group deadline. All in all things are going well.

I’m still worried sick about Mark, of course, but I know that he’s in good health, is in one of the best cardiac units anywhere, and has the best circle of friends one could hope for.

Word count: 9929 | Since last entry: 3176

Busy day today, ending with dinner with David J. Williams and Kamila Miller before David’s reading from his new book Burning Skies at Powell’s.

The writing is going well but will plainly blow way past my 10,000-word budget before I’m done. Could be as much as 15,000. As I said, I see some places to cut, and I think the exercise will also tighten and swiften (if that were a word) the story.

Heading for Seattle tomorrow, to hang out with Janna Silverstein and Mark and Elizabeth Bourne and attend the Clarion West party for Elizabeth Bear at Mary Kay Kare’s.

And that’s enough namedropping for one blog post.

Word count: 6753 | Since last entry: 6753

Fourth of July already!?

Went to the Iron Springs Writers Retreat on the Washington coast, where I was “writer guru” along with Jay Lake. Very strange for me to be Big Name Writer Guy. In addition to leading two critique sessions I also gave two informal talks, one on plotting and one on using sets and props to build character and display emotion. And of course there was much eating and chatting and walking on the beach (though my it was windy on that beach). Jay and I will be doing it again next year, though at a different location.

I also used the retreat to force myself to stop researching and start writing on my Wild Cards story. It worked. I wrote an outline and 1400 words of prose, and have continued to write 500-900 words per day since for a total of 6753 words so far. This is supposed to be a 10,000-word story and at this rate I expect the first draft to come in at about 12,000 words, but I can already see some places to make cuts.

Came home from Iron Springs to find a rejection in my email box from Catastrophia for the story I read at Wiscon. Darn it. Very encouraging rejection, though, and it’s already back in the mail. On the plus side, Space Magic is a finalist for the Endeavour Award and “Firewall” and “Sun Magic, Earth Magic” both got honorable mentions from Gardner Dozois in his Year’s Best SF. (Hmm… never noticed before that the titles of the latter story and my collection form an implied trilogy.)

Way too many of my friends have been in the hospital lately. M’s having a heart valve replaced, P shattered his humerus and collarbone while ice skating, D’s having a quadruple bypass, B was in a very serious car wreck, J’s got cancer, R has had two surgeries for a duodenal ulcer, E was hospitalized for exhaustion… It’s not even the usual “we’re all getting older” thing; every one of those people but R is younger than me. Stop it, y’all.

Yesterday, at Kate’s instigation, was a rock climbing party. Camille Alexa, Tina Connolly, Felicity Shoulders, and Camille’s and Tina’s partners joined us at a local rock gym for a laid-back “rock climbing for novices” evening. None of us had ever climbed before. Much fun and very impressed by everyone, especially Tina’s spider monkey clamber and Felicity’s patented “Falcon Girl” descents. I didn’t reach the top myself, but I did manage to go higher on each ascent. Afterwards: drinks and snacks at Doug Fir.

Leah Cutter is using the halfway point of the year to review her progress on her goals, which strikes me as a fine thing to do. My New Year’s Resolution was to celebrate the holidays with friends; I don’t think we did anything for the Vernal Equinox but we’ll be attending a potluck tonight for the Fourth of July. Other goals for the year are to write every day, exercise three times a week, watch what I eat, and keep the house clean and decluttered, and I’ve been doing quite well on those (except for the exercise, but I have been managing at least two sessions most weeks except when traveling). I’ve also sold two stories, which puts me on track for my usual four sales a year.

Looking into the future, I’ll be in Seattle July 9-11, visiting with Janna Silverstein and Mark and Elizabeth Bourne and attending Elizabeth Bear’s Clarion West party at Jordin and Mary Kay Kare’s. See some of you there!

Now it can be told: Space Magic, my first collection of short stories, is a finalist for the Endeavour Award!

The Endeavour is an award for a science fiction or fantasy book written by a Pacific Northwest author, and is presented each year at OryCon.

The other finalists for 2009 are Anathem by Neal Stephenson, Ill Met in the Arena by Dave Duncan, Long Walks, Last Flights and Other Stories by Ken Scholes, and A World Too Near: Book Two of the Entire and the Rose by Kay Kenyon. (Tough competition! It’s an honor just to be nominated.) The judges for this year, who will select the recipient from among the finalists, are Joe Haldeman, John Helfers, and Sarah Zettel.

If you do not yet own a copy of my newly-award-nominated book, you can correct that little problem at Wheatland Press. They’re even having a sale right now: buy two books, get one free!

Space Magic is also available in a limited hardcover edition of 100 copies, signed and numbered, exclusively from Wrigley-Cross Books.

Whee!

Right. There’s only one way to stop myself from obsessively researching this story and force myself to begin drafting the damn thing. I am kidnapping myself and squirreling myself away in an undisclosed location without access to the Internet or any other research materials.

Well, not really. But almost.

The fact is that I am, along with Jay Lake, “Writer Guru” at the Iron Springs Writers’ Retreat on the Washington coast, which begins tomorrow. It should be a very cool weekend of hanging out with writers, critiquing, and writing. There is no Internet or cell phone service, so if you have anything I need to know before Sunday you’d better let me know now.

I mean to come home with at least 1500 words of draft on the new story.

In other news, the podcast of “I Hold My Father’s Paws” from Beam Me Up has been re-posted in their archive. And the oil tank in the back yard has been successfully decomissioned… turns out it was not leaking, which means it took only a half-day and less than $1000 to drain, fill with gravel, and bury for future archaeologists to puzzle over. (Whew.)

I also got a rejection on the alien pupa story, just to keep me humble after the Analog sale, and sent it off to the next market in line, which just happened to be Analog. Not really expecting lightning to strike twice, but one never know, do one?