the bells that still can ring

Monday 30 March 2009 at 11:01 pm

I'm settling into my new routines, getting things done that I've been neglecting for far too long; I've had pretty specific plans for an upgrade to my computer system, but this upgrade required a reconfiguration of my desk, which required me to unbury my office couch out of all of the stuff I had on it and then rebury it in things from my desk. I've been catching up on sleep (I was running in such sleep debt that it took ten days to get myself sorted out, but I'm back to needing my usual 7.5 hours a night), working on my Web sites, and in general unwinding.

What I haven't been doing a lot of is writing. I started something new with Storm today (who knows how long it'll be until it sees the light of day; I am about thirteen cowritten projects behind at this point, and I'm reasonably sure that a few of these aren't ever going to get written up), and of course I've been working on Imryne, but I have a few other things I've been letting percolate in the back of my mind. I need to show up to Clarion with a few fleshed-out ideas. Ideas? Not a problem. Fleshing them out? Um…yeah.

How I write short stories is kind of like wandering into a dark room and feeling around for a lightswitch. Sometimes, it takes me a while to find it and I whack my head on a few things first. Sometimes, I'm not in the right room at all. Sometimes, I'm in the right room, but it's not the room I thought I was in. The most recent Mouse story that was published in Ravens in the Library was one of those. I started out with the idea of "Mouse and music", and I knew the first line was, "Far away in the House, a door clicks closed. Several more creak open."

In the world of Mouse, opening and closing doors always signify change. Behind closed doors, when nobody is looking, the House changes itself. If the House is opening and closing doors on its own, you know something big's happening. Then I saw the golden clouds of music, and I was off and running. It took me almost until the end of the first draft for Mouse to admit what was actually going on and allow me to make sense of all of the weird events that were jangling around the story, looking for a plot to structure them.

So fleshing out ideas without actually writing a first draft is kind of hard. I'll manage it, but I'll squish it between finishing Imryne and getting my photography business up and running. Which is a subject for another blog—how do you keep two budding creative businesses up and running without running out of soul to put in your work? I'm going to be finding out.

For those of you who are Seattle-local, I will be at Norwescon on Friday at what sounds like it might be a combination reading, SJ Tucker concert, and signing. I'll post more details when I have them, but all I know right now is that I'm supposed to show up in Sea-Tac and wander around until I figure out where I'm supposed to be.

Anyway, found a new, interesting-looking market that isn't quite open yet and that I have any number of stories that might fit it. I won't be sending Those Who Do Not Reap, since that's my Clarion story and will get suitably eviscerated and put back together during the first week. I am very, very fond of Reap, and am looking forward to making it even better. One of the things I'm doing this week, besides getting back into my exercise routine, is to get my submission ducks in a row. More on that later, though, as I try and figure out where I left off on that.

I'm excited, and right now, life is very, very good.

flinging myself into the void

Tuesday 24 March 2009 at 11:39 am

Change is scary.

I have to take time to think out change, weigh it and measure it in my mind, try on the various decisions and see how they feel. Often, this process happens in silence, in the back of my head. Then, all at once, I put my new plan in motion, often to the astonishment of those around me.

About a year ago, when some changes happened at my place of employment, I started thinking about making some changes. And I kept thinking about it. The universe started prodding me to get my butt in gear, and still I dragged my feet. I hadn't finished thinking yet.

Then, all at once, I made the change.

I quit my job. I got into Clarion West. I started doing the work needed to get myself set up in photography as a business. I decided to give myself the time and space to do all the things I need to do, to get the habits of the self-employed engraved in my consciousness.

So, here I am. The last few days have been spent doing intensive Web work, refreshing my site, designing a new one, getting business stuff set up underneath that. There is a lot of work to be done, and a lot of things that need doing that I had been putting off. (Taxes, for instance. Sigh.) I am still doing writing work, as well, and going places with the dogs. I have a signing for Ravens in the Library to be at this week, as well as a ceremonial scrubbing away of my old life.

So. Hi, everyone. My name's Kris Aithne Millering. I'm a writer and photographer. I am a member of the 2009 class of Clarion West. I have a degree in linguistics and extensive training in psychology, biology, and botany. I live in a young place where the mountains are still shifting under their sleeping skins. I've written a lot of books.

I'm ready to fly.