Out With the Old, In With the New

A lot of New Year posts and comments fall into one of two themes: 2012 was great, and 2013 will be even better! Or: I sure hope 2013 is better than last year! To me, neither one is the right way to look at things.

Were there bad things in the past year? Sure, both on a world, national, local, and personal level. But bad stuff happens everywhere, every year. There were also good things, and people, and events to be grateful for, and to remember with great joy.

The problem with saying "The year was" or "The year will be" is that it puts the emphasis on the wrong thing. It's not the year that makes things good or bad. One year is not necessarily better than another, in the longer view of things. It's our perception that gives makes it so, that gives it power, if you will. We need to spend more time just being, here and now, and less worrying and dissecting whether it will be "good" or "bad" at the end of the year. Enjoy this moment, this person, this place. Is tomorrow going to be better? I don't know. I also don't know if the coming year is going to be better. What I do know, is that if I look at it from a strict good or bad position, I'm going to miss a lot of little things that I shouldn't let slip by. So that's what I'm going to try to do in this coming year:

Enjoy each moment for what it is.
Notice the small things.
Listen more- not just to other people, but to the silence, and try to hear the message there.
Do the best I can, and be the best I can.

If I can do that, then I think it will, no matter the individual things that happen, be a very good year.

And I hope you have a very good year, also!

Review: Piano Girl by Robin Meloy Goldsby

Piano Girl: A Memoir: Lessons in Life, Music, and the Perfect Blue Hawaiian by Robin Meloy Goldsby

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


The subtitle for this book is Lessons in Life, Music, and the Perfect Blue Hawaiian. It is a memoir, spanning the author's career as a lounge pianist, from her accidental beginning as a college student vacationing on Nantucket Island through gigs at top New York hotels, island resorts, and German castles. It is all done with quirky humor, candid insight, and true love for the music she plays.

Beginning as a college student from Pittsburgh vacationing on Nantucket Island, Ms. Goldsby takes a job as a waitress which doesn't quite work out. She arranges to use a local bar's piano during off hours to practice, and the owner of the bar asks her to play at night for his customers. Thus begins a career. She moves from dive bars and beach lounges to New York city, and jobs at prestigious hotels. There are jaunts to Caribbean islands, stage shows, and other gigs. She gives us an insider's view of auditions and agents, producers and private clients. Sitting behind her piano, she sees all of New York life pass by: the business moguls, mob bosses, the down and out who just need a place to sit, and some truly crazy and scary customers. Her life is never dull, but it always seems fulfilling. The story ends in Germany, where she moves with her bass player husband, raises two children, records CDs, and plays her lounge piano music in ancient castles.

The book is funny, warm, inspiring, and a treat to read. Anyone who enjoys autobiography, memoirs, or music will find much to enchant here.



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November? Must be NaNoWriMo!

Ah, yes, the annual November plunge. Into the depths of National Novel Writing Month. For those who don't know, the basic idea is to start on November 1st, and write a 50,000 word first draft of a novel, ending on November 30. That breaks down to 1,667 words a day, every day. I did my first NaNo in 2008, participated again in 2009 and 2010, and skipped last year to work on editing the 2008 novel. I'm diving in again this year. It's fun, frustrating, desperate at times, and sure feels good when you hit that 50k.

I'm doing something kind of out of my usual comfort zone this year. It is still a fantasy, because I'm happy writing that sort of thing. But this year, I'm aiming at a middle grade audience. I have no idea if I can pull it off. I'm already not sure I have the right voice, but if you don't try, you never know what you can do, right? This may well end up being stuffed somewhere no one will ever see it, but at the same time, it's kind of fun working on something that has no purpose other than to see if I can.

Everyone has to figure out their own strategy for dealing with this month of furious writing. We all have lives that go on, regardless of NaNoWriMo. For me, I find setting goals and having a plan works best. I'm not a "pantser"- I can't just sit down with some vague idea and start writing. I get lost too easily. I tried it once and the mess that resulted? Well, let's just say I'm pretty sure I won't go there again. I'm an outliner. I need a plan, a pretty decent idea where we're all going. Not to say its set in stone, and things never change, because they surely do, but I have to start with some sort of plan.

And goals. 2,000 words a day. For a couple reasons. First. it gives me a buffer when things get a bit hectic later in the month. Thanksgiving is in November, you know. And that means at least one day of not getting much done. If I have a buffer built up, I can still get to the goal without killing myself in the process.

Second, 2,000 words is about all my poor little brain can deal with in one day. Sometimes, if I'm working on a piece that I have pretty well planned out and know well, I can do a fair bit more. Most often, I run into real brain fatigue right around the 2K mark. It's okay. It lets me relax a bit and let things work in the background, which makes the next day's effort less stressful.

I don't follow things like word sprints and other group things, mainly because most are internet based, and I find it better to shut down FB, Twitter, G+, email, and all that while I'm working. Otherwise, I waste too much time "just reading a few more posts". (No one else has that problem, right? Liars.)

So, off I go, into the wild ride that is NaNoWriMo once again. I'm trying to keep a public accounting going, by posting my total words and words added on FB and Twitter daily. I hope anyone who sees me falling behind will give me a shove. I'll see you in December, hopefully 50,000 words farther than I was at the beginning of the month.

To all the other WriMo's out there- good luck! Keep writing!

Review: Soulless (Parasol Protectorate 1) by Gail Carriger

Soulless by Gail Carriger

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


Alexia Tarabotti has no soul. Really. She's a preternatural, born without a soul, which allows her to negate supernatural powers with a touch. But that's not the worst of her problems, mainly because almost no one knows. No, her real troubles stem from the fact that she is 25, plain, and had an Italian father. She is, in her society, a spinster. Alexia is resigned to her station. And then, she (quite accidentally) kills a vampire at a party. Very bad form. The incident is investigated by the loud, devilishly good-looking Lord Maccon, working for the Queen's Bureau of Unnatural Registry. As they probe into the sudden appearance of a rogue vampire, they discover that known vampires have been disappearing, and unknown vampires are appearing. As they investigate, they discover a plot that could have dire consequences for the supernatural segment of society.

I truly enjoyed this book. Set in an alternate Victorian London, it is part steampunk, part romance, and part comedy. The characters are lovely- Alexia is smart, not afraid to speak her mind, and quite quick-witted. Other main characters are as enjoyable, especially Alexia's gay vampire friend, who speaks in italics, of course. The writing is clean and nicely paced, the dialogue is witty, and the Victorian elements are true to form. It reads quickly. The premise is interesting and intriguing.

Problems? Well, yes, a few. First, we are reminded, much more often than is necessary, of Alexia's appearance (she has her father's Italian complexion, large nose, and intellect), her less-than-marrigeable state (she is 25, and well, look at her- there's the appearance thing again), and the rest of her physical appearance (she is apparently a bit curvier than acceptable). A few reminders, yes, but at times it felt like being hit over the head with it, time after time.

And, while some of the circumstances (I won't go into more detail in order to avoid spoilers) that Alexia finds herself in, particularly with Lord Maccon, are stretching things a bit. They do provide some of the most amusing scenes in the book, but still, in those particular situations, I found myself a bit hard-pressed to believe the reactions.

Still, those are minor issues, and I didn't find them really detracting from my enjoyment of the book. It is fun, amusing, and a nice example of the steampunk genre.



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Happy Hallowe'en! Have a Little Ghost Story

This was supposed to go up this morning, but since we had no power....

Just a little ghost story for you-

Midnight Rider

By

M.A. Kropp

            That was a great party, Tom thought, as he drove through the quiet late night streets. But then, Gordy’s family always did go all out for Hallowe’en. Worth the trip out here. Tom shifted slightly to a more comfortable position behind the wheel, and turned the volume on the radio up a notch. He had at least a forty minute drive ahead of him. 

            The compact blue sedan left the residential streets and turned onto a two lane county road. It was a perfect Hallowe’en night: clear, dark skies sprinkled with stars, and a nearly full moon just visible through the stark branches of the trees lining both sides of the road. The air was crisp, with the fall smells of wood smoke and dry leaves. Tom slowed the car as he approached the intersection.

            “Don’t take the Fuller Road cut on your way home tonight,” Gordy had said as Tom was preparing to leave. “I know it’s shorter, but that road is haunted. There’ve been fatal accidents every year on Hallowe’en since that guy ran off the road five years ago. Go the long way, ok?” Tom had said he would, but now, faced with the lateness of the hour, he was thinking again.

            It’ll cut at least fifteen minutes off the drive, Tom thought. What the hell. What am I going to run into? A headless horseman galloping through the woods? Tom turned the car onto Fuller Road. There were accidents along this road all the time. It was narrow and twisty, with sharp embankments on both sides. Late nights, people driving home from parties. You didn’t need ghosts to know that added up to accidents.

            He drove along, nodding his head in time to the music, watching his speed on the curves. As he rounded one, something in the road ahead made him hit the brakes. There was someone in the road, hands outstretched as if to say “Stop!” Tom flicked on his high beams, and chuckled. It was just an old tree, limbs bare of leaves and hanging out over the road. In the dark, with the angle of the curved road, it had looked like a person.

            Gordy’s ghost stories have got you spooked, Tom said to himself. Get a grip. He sped up again and passed the tree, waving at it as he did.

            “Happy Hallowe’en!” he said. He was settling back into the drive when he saw headlights in the distance ahead of him.

            “Someone else had a late night,” he said to no one, as the lights got closer. Then, he sat up straighter and stared hard out the windshield. The approaching car was in his lane! Tom leaned on the horn, the blaring noise cutting through the silence of the night. The other car didn’t move. It just kept coming, straight at him, and it looked like it was speeding up. Tom swore out loud, and pulled his car into the other lane. The second car, a long white sedan, moved with him. Tom hit the horn again, a longer blast.

            “Shit, buddy, this is no road to be playing chicken on!” Tom shouted. He jerked the wheel back into his own lane, feeling his rear wheels fishtail a bit as he did. He got the car under control, but the white sedan was bearing down on him, its headlights blinding through the windshield. Tom swore again, and spun the wheel hard, trying to make the shoulder of the road, while he braced for the impact he knew was coming.

            Except it never did. Tom expected the grinding sound of metal folding on metal, and to be thrown against the interior of the car. What happened was time seemed to stretch and slow, he was moving through a rapidly streaming thick gray fog, and it was cold. Tom tried to pull the car back onto the road, but his wheels were skidding on the gravel shoulder. He felt one wheel slip over the edge of the embankment. He spun the wheel and hit the gas desperately, but only caused the car to slip more. He knew the car was going over. As it spun and slipped downward, Tom saw the white sedan, sitting on the road, surrounded by an eerie, almost shimmering light. He stared into the window. The driver was clutching the steering wheel, his face covered in blood. Two glowing red eyes were the last thing Tom saw as his car fell down the steep slope.

            The next morning, as they waited for the tow truck to pull the small blue car up to the road again, the county sheriff turned to the state police officer standing next to him.

            “I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe we should just close this road down on Hallowe’en next year.”

The End

Review: Boneshaker by Cherie Priest

Boneshaker by Cherie Priest

My rating: 3 of 5 stars


Boneshaker is the second of Priest's books I've read, and is quite different from Four and Twenty Blackbirds. The latter is more of a traditional ghost story, while this one is a foray into the world of steampunk. It is, however, not your typical steampunk. Set in an alternate history Civil War era Seattle, WA, it doesn't have the Victorian era feel of most steampunk stories. That's not bad thing, and there are more than enough of the usual steampunk trappings to make it fit the genre.

The story is centered on Briar Wilkes, a widow who works in the water cleaning facility in the "clean" settlements outside Seattle proper. Her late husband, an inventor, was commissioned by the Russians to build a machine that could drill through the frozen Alaskan surface to mine the gold there, helping Russia to cash in on the gold rush. At its first test, the machine appears to go radically wrong, tearing up most of the financial district of Seattle, and tapping into a vein of poisonous gas that, when breathed, either kills or turns its victim into a zombie (called rotters by the populace). A wall has been build around the city to contain the gas, and a part of the population still lives inside its confines, needing gas masks to breathe in the contaminated air of the surface.

Briar's son, Zeke, has never fully believed the stories about his father- that he deliberately ran the Boneshaker machine into the banking district to rob the banks and escape with a fortune. Briar insists he is dead, but refuses to tell Zeke the full story of the days after the Boneshaker was first fired up. Zeke decides to go into the poisoned city to try and clear his father's name, and Briar, once she discovers what Zeke has done, goes after him.

There is more to the plot, of course: the die-hard inhabitants of the poisoned city, surviving on scavenged good from the abandoned houses and businesses inside the walls, and living in subterranean tunnels, a mad scientist who wants to rule the ruined city (and who may or may not be Briar's thought-dead husband), and air pirates who brave the poisoned air of the city to collect the addictive drug distilled from the gas. But the main story is Briar and Zeke's: his search to find out the things his mother would never tell him, and her search to find her son again, in more ways than one.

All in all, it was an enjoyable book. One thing kept jumping out at me, however. Why did the populace stay after the deadly nature of the gas vein opened by the Boneshaker was discovered? I can almost understand those who stayed in the city, similar to those who stay in hurricane or other disaster threatened areas. But for those who moved outside the city walls, there is never a clear explanation given for their staying on. There is a war going on back East, but there is the rest of the country. It was a loose end that never was tied up well.

The steampunk trappings were nicely added= airships, machines and devices that seem advanced for the time, and other details that paint the background fairly well. The plot moves quickly, without long expositions or loss of pacing. Characters are well-drawn and interesting. Perhaps not the best example of the genre, but certainly worth reading.



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Neil Gaiman, Scary Stories, Free!- and For a Good Cause

In honor of Hallowe'en, and his All Hallows Read project, Neil Gaiman and Audible have a scarey short story, written and narrated by Mr. Gaiman. And it's free. Yep- free. And for every download between now and Hallowe'en, Audible will donate one dollar to Donors Choose for U.S. downloads, and Booktrust for U.K. downloads. So, go to Audible to download Click Clack the Rattlebag, free. It is only free until Hallowe'en, and it is only available until then. Do it. Why? It's free. It's Neil Gaiman, reading a story he wrote. (He's a fantastic narrator. I know this. I heard him read excerpts of American Gods. I want Neil Gaiman to read all my books to me now.) And, most of all, it is for a good cause.

You can read his blog post about it here.

As an added bonus, if enough people download this one, there is an extra that will be put out there.