Better Than Dead

I ran across an old reading meme and decided to do it again. Because life is short and why not waste time? (Although I don’t believe reading or talking about reading is ever wasting time.)

Question: Do you have a regular place you read? What books are currently waiting there?          

Nan by Elizabeth Kingston
A novella set in the world of her medieval romance trilogy which I devoured in a month. Well-written and with incredibly dimensional and nuanced characters, these are books I will hold on to: The King’s Man; Fair, Bright, and Terrible; and Desire Lines. (I hope there will be more!)

The 37^th Parallel by Ben Mezrich
A Hellier inspired purchase. So, you know, paranormal non-fiction.

Fairies: A Guide to Celtic Fair Folk by Morgan Daimler
Research reading for the current WIP, concise and easy to read.

Tarot for Writers by Corinne Kenner
Using tarot for world-building, character, and writing prompts. I haven’t gotten very far into it and I’m not sure it will be completely useful for the way I write but whatever.

The Archetype of Initiation by Robert L. Moore
A Jungian approach and quite fascinating. Also inspired by Hellier.

The Underworld Initiation by R.J. Stewart
Because one cannot have too many books on initiation, right? More of a mythological/psychic approach.

I’m actively reading all of these except the last, cycling them in and out. I think reading both books on initiation simultaneously might get confusing, so I’m saving Stewart’s book.

The talented and lovely mnfaure has put out a general challenge to writers as part of the 7-7-7-7 challenge, so I decided to play along. I’ll follow her lead and rather than challenging seven specific writers, I’ll just say that anyone out there who wishes to join in should feel free to.

The Challenge

Go to the 7th page of a work in progress, go 7 lines down, post the next 7 lines, then challenge 7 other writers to do the same.

My entry turns out to be part of a letter to the editor of a paranormal magazine called The Between Times—maybe not the most riveting part of the novel, but hopefully at least slightly amusing:

I wonder if you’d like to do an article about the Chupacabra that’s bothering my chickens? Well, I’d better close for now. I am a big fan of your magazine. I have been reading The Between Times ever since I discovered it on a trip to San Francisco three years ago to visit my son’s grave. That was the issue on life after death and I found it to be a great comfort. Keep up the good work, and let me know about that Chupacabra article. I’ll even write it myself if you like, though I’m no creative writer.

Sincerely yours,

Ramona Hansen Tattinger, Hansen Ranch, Dos Lunas County, California

This was seven lines in the ms., but seems to have a different shape in the post. Anyway. Happy writing!

I’ve done this one before, but it bears repeating. Or maybe not.

My fairy name is Meadow Flamewitch
She lights fires in the heart.
She lives in fields where wild flowers and poppies grow.
She can only be seen in the enchanted moment between sleep and waking.
She wears a skirt made of red petals and has fiery orange butterfly wings.
Get your own fairy name from the fairy name generator!

So, a humorous comment by mount_oregano led me on a little journey around The Internet and I stumbled upon this Analyzer called Gender Guesser. I plugged in some words from Venus In Transit, the same novel I used for yesterday’s meme, and discovered I am a European male. Here are the results:

Total words: 330

Weak emphasis could indicate European.

Ooooooo-kay. For the opening paragraphs of Venus in Transit. My comic novel. Hmmm.

I write like
Gertrude Stein

I Write Like by Mémoires, journal software. Analyze your writing!

A little further into the manuscript:

I write like
Ian Fleming

I Write Like by Mémoires, journal software. Analyze your writing!

And further still:

I write like
Raymond Chandler

I Write Like by Mémoires, journal software. Analyze your writing!

Look! Actual content!

I got this meme from sartorias who got it from Should Be Reading.

To play along, just answer the following three (3) questions…

• What are you currently reading?
• What did you recently finish reading?
• What do you think you’ll read next?

I’m about 75 pages from finishing Shadow of Night by Deborah Harkness and dipping into Help. Thanks. Wow. by Anne Lamott. I’m really enjoying both of them. I know some people poo-poo Harkness, but I’ve enjoyed both of her books. They just draw me in and keep me reading, no mean feat these days. And Anne Lamott manages to be spiritual, hilarious, humanitarian, and egalitarian. I love her.

Before those I read Giving Up the Ghost: A Story About Friendship, 80s Rock, a Lost Scrap of Paper, and What It Means to Be Haunted by Eric Nuzum (back at the end of October), which was a very interesting memoir about a troubled and lost youth finding a way to prevail. I read so slowly these days, what with all that’s going on, that I think I only finished 16 books in 2012. My reading time is very scattered and precious. However, October was something of a banner month. I also finished Delusion in Death by J. D. Robb (my ultimate comfort read author) and Serpent in the Thorns by Jeri Westerson, a medieval noir detective story. I didn’t like this second book as much as I liked the first in her series (Veil of Lies), but well enough that I’ll continue reading them.

What will I read next? Haven’t a clue. Many lovely books await me. I suspect it will all depend on the mood I’m in when I’m finally finished with the current book.

The page 58 meme:

Pick the nearest book to you. Turn to page 58. Skip down 7 lines to the first full sentence. This describes your life so far.

From Riveted by Meljean Brook:

“Less than an hour remained until first watch began.”

I do feel as if I’ve spent an enormous amount of my life just waiting around…

The rules:


1. Go to page 77 (or 7th) of your current ms

2. Go to line 7

3. Copy down the next 7 lines – sentences or paragraphs – and post them as they’re written. No cheating.

The last time this was going around I was slowly, painfully working on Shivery Bones and I still am (sorry to say). I refuse to post the same excerpt, so I went back to the novel I was working on before that, Carmina. There’s no page 77, so here’s page 7. Carmina and Susan are speaking. Carmina is the one speaking that first line.

“Do you realize how rare it is for anyone to confront their own demons?”

Carmina’s vivid eyes grew bleak, her face exhausted. “I can’t help myself, darling. I am compelled whether I wish it or not.”

Here’s a meme I picked up from shalanna (who didn’t follow The Rules either. :-D)
The Rules:
Go to page 77 of your current MS.
Go to line 7.
Copy down the next 7 lines/sentences and post them as they’re written.  No cheating.

The current MS. being Shivery Bones, the one I am editing since I’m not writing anything new at the moment…

Here’s page 77, but not line 7.  Hey, I’m a writer.  I find it impossible to post something without context, so you’re getting the whole paragraph starting from line 4 and ending where it would have if I started on line 7 at the end of the next paragraph.  They are posted as currently written, however.

In this scene, Juana in 14^th century Cordoba, Spain, is dying of consumption and has no one reliable to care for her four-year-old son, Estevan.  She has just asked Fraile Diego Gonçales, a traveling friar, to care for the boy, and has been coughing up blood.

“Mama’s all right,” she told him in a strangled voice, and reached for the wooden ball he’d let drop. “Here’s your ball, sweetheart.” She let him off her lap, and cleaned her mouth and hands with the cloth as best she could. Estevan took the ball, but a vague worry wormed through his heart. He stole anxious glances at her.

The friar studied them long and hard, his face at war with itself: pity, chagrin, compassion, irritation. Finally, in a dry voice, shaking his head, he asked, “Why would you trust such a precious boy to a stranger like me?”

ETA:  There’s something about posting that makes all the icky stuff show up.

 
“Mama’s all right,” she told him in a strangled voice, and reached for the wooden ball he’d let drop. “Here’s your ball, toy, sweetheart.” She let him off her lap, and cleaned cleaning her mouth and hands with the cloth as best she could. Estevan took the ball, but a vague worry wormed through his heart. He stole anxious glances at her.

The friar studied them long and hard, his face at war with itself: pity, chagrin, compassion, irritation. Finally, in a dry voice, s Shaking his head, he asked, “Why would you trust such a precious boy to a stranger like me?”