Master of the Hounds

http://www.somethingpositive.net/sp05182012.shtml

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http://penny-arcade.com/2012/05/21/incredulity

Tycho:

Now that you can play Diablo III, you probably should.  Sometimes you won’t know if there is a problem with your computer or a problem with Blizzard or a problem with The Internet, that happens, but you can often click on things and then things will come out of the things, which is something all sentients deeply crave.
Deckard “Stay Awhile” Cain has an adopted niece this time around, and she grumps around in disbelief at her kooky uncle even when she up to her philtrum in demonic, animate flesh.  This doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.  Still,

Enough people made vaguely interested noises in the editing process that I thought I’d talk about it a bit. It’s definitely the tedious, grim, discouraging bit of the process, but it occurs to me that you, O Prospective Author, may find it even more traumatic if nobody tells you what to expect!

First, two caveats. I’ve had…I think…twelve books edited at this point, and that’s awesome, but the vast screaming majority were Dragonbreath books, and as editing goes, that’s a walk in the park with singing and dancing and happy bunnies frolicking in the grass. Only two or three required actual serious story-construction editing, where I had to grab whole scenes and shove them somewhere else, and my editor said things like “I don’t know–this bit just isn’t working here.” In 15K, you have to get everything done RIGHT NOW, and there is not much time for subtlety. This makes them tougher to write, in some regards, but it also means that I can edit most of them in an evening. (I believe I once edited one in an hour, at about 3 AM when I couldn’t sleep.)

This is not what happens with novels. It is not what happened with Nurk, although that was certainly a very short book, and not what happened with Black Dogs and not what is happening with Bread Wizard, which is the book that lies before me, quivering, with its delicate little organ meats splayed out on the slab. (Seriously, this is kinda what it feels like. Editing is like major surgery. On both you AND the book.)

Second caveat—I would love to hear from some other authors on their experience. This is JUST what’s happened to me, and may not be universal by any stretch. You’re talking to someone who’s first book sale (Black Dogs) was less than a decade ago, and I’ve only ever been with three presses, one small, two large. I simply haven’t been around long enough to say “This, here, is universal.” So take everything with a grain of salt.

( A post about editing that I didn't edit! It's meta! )

http://www.somethingpositive.net/sp05172012.shtml

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Yes, I am an atheist. No, I do not believe in the soul...or any other "spirit" inhabiting the human body. Consciousness = mind = the function of the brain. Period. No breath of god/s. Meatbags that have evolved a degree of self-awareness, which can only be considered "higher" relative to other meatbags (say gorillas, or frogs, or sea cucumbers).

That said, I was just considering old conversations. Specifically, the ones in which some friend or relative would declare that I was hell bound if I didn't change my infidel's mechanistic outlook on the universe, if I didn't forsake humanism for Xtianity, if I didn't decide creationism makes a lot more sense than the sciences, and so forth, ad nauseum. There was always this wonderful trap, a sort of paradox, into which I could not resist luring the god botherers. Simply stated: a) You're a righteous and god-fearing person, right? And the Kingdom of Heaven will be your reward, right? And, b) because your god is a god of love (or Love, or even LOVE), you will exist in bliss forever and a day, blah, blah blah, right?

Points a) and b) were unanimously met with confirmation. But, then we come to the third and fourth items: c) people who care about, and perhaps even LOVE, will not join you in Heaven, but, instead, suffer damnation for all eternity – whatever that damnation might be – so d) precisely how will you be happy knowing that I will be suffering while you soak up the love of the Big G? These two questions were most often met with sputtering or a flabbergasted silence. But, on a couple of occasions, the person to whom I was speaking would claim that so mighty was their love of god, and His love for them, that they would not question His decision, and would accept His judgment as fair. No, really. I shit you not. Anyway, sitting here, just a memory bubbling up to the surface.*

---

Yesterday should have been a very fine day off. It was meant to be. But someone (I shall not say whom, only that it was not Spooky) worked me into such a furious state that any sort of relaxation became impossible before we even left the house. We went to West Cove and Beavertail on Conanicut Island. The tide was spectacularly low. There were children swimming, and I wished I'd thought to bring my bathing suit. I considered going in nude. The cold, deep water of Narragansett Bay looked so inviting. There were too many people, too much noise. I sat atop one of the granite cliffs and tried to let the sound of the waves wash away the anger, but to no avail. We returned home very early, and the dispiriting trip was essentially a waste of time and gasoline. I want to throttle the person responsible for putting me in so foul a mood ahead of time. Back to god bothering. (MS Word! Stop correcting my spelling RIGHT THIS SECOND!). So, a day off that became a day lost, despite the sea.

Today, I put a few finishing touches on Alabaster: Wolves #1, then send it off the my editor at Dark Horse. This issue ends the mini-series. Then, I look at my short story deadlines, and figure out what's up next. And I dread my birthday. And stare out at the grey sky. And I listen to more of The Drowning Girl: A Memoir audiobook, because NGP is waiting on my approval. And I dread, too, the impending editing of Blood Oranges

Comments would be nice today.

And if you've not preordered Confessions of a Five-Chambered Heart, please, please do so today. Thank you. Think of it as a birthday present.

Oh, and at least Spooky got some nice photos yesterday. Here are a few of them, behind the cut:

( 20 May 20120 )

Not a Happy Camper,
Aunt Beast (La Cabrita)

Postscript that ought be unnecessary but isn't: All "believers" are not god botherers. I know that, so I don't need anyone to tell me how they believe, but aren't judgmental, evangelical shitheels. I get that. I was not talking to you. Don't be so defensive.

May 21, 2012: Three weeks ago we officially announced the plan to overhaul Scrapbook, LiveJournal’s exclusive photo-hosting feature for Plus, Paid and Perm accounts. Today we’re letting you know that the new Scrapbook will release this week; in anticipation, we want to give you a bit more information on some additional changes that have been made. The newest additions to the FAQ are under the cut; the original FAQ about the new Scrapbook is in the previous news post.

( Read more... )

http://penny-arcade.com/comic/2012/05/21

New Comic: Incredulity

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