I’m Staying With Aunt Sally, But She’s Not Really My Aunt
Pretty excited about Bob Dylan’s new autobiography that comes out in a few weeks. For those of you trying to come up with Christmas and birthday ideas (because it’s never too early to start) this item has a place on that list. Not like I need another book on my reading list, but whatever.
Trying to polish up some stories and get them out this week. Dusted off “Now and Forever,” a 1200-word ditty, and “A Change of Seasons,” a Clarion story previously named “Kalata, Boy Killer.” Nancy Kress taught week three and gave me very positive feedback on it. Contrary to the feelings of some of my Clarion classmates, I’m going to try sending it to Cicada, a magazine for older teens. Nancy strongly suggested I send it to Gordon van Gelder at “The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction” but he read it over and it didn’t grip him, and he somewhat objected to the “twist” at the end. Kelly Link also liked the story but said she felt we got more intolerant of somewhat “trick endings” at a certain age - so why not pitch it to a demographic that may still appreciate it. Or maybe I should just change the ending. But there’s plenty of time to do that after it gets shot down. I plan on trying SciFi.com next. Six-to-eight week response time so it’ll already be mid-February before I would revise the ending. Not used to “shelfing” a story for that long.
I have no idea where to send “Now and Forever” and I’m also reworking “Of Silver Bullets and Golden Teeth.” I gotta admit, I think it’s a pretty compelling story after having not read it for awhile but it just needs more dressing up. I think I used to be so focused on word count I forgot that stories need a great amount of detail to really stand out. Very few stories I really like are in the 5,000 or less word range. Like Andy Duncan said, “It’s hard to kick a dog around in less than 3,000 words.”
Story ideas bubbling under, pressurizing. Some night they’re going to explode and I’ll stay up until 3:00 am cranking ‘em out. “The Wendigo Killers” has almost reached critical mass in my mind and now I’m not sure it’s going to be the 15,000-word tome I feared. I’ve settled into the job now and that makes coming home and forgetting about it somehow easier. Even though I wasn’t worried about it (it’s a pretty simple job) there still must have been something unsettled in my mind by the newness of it all, or something like that. Apparently that feeling has shriveled up in a dark corner of my mind and died, because I’ve been red-lining my stories at lunch and can’t wait to get home and write. This is a good thing.
The title of this blog is a line from Bob Dylan’s “Sugar Baby,” and allow me the opportunity to say how much it pisses me off when people say Bob Dylan has lost it and should stop recording. Dozens, yes dozens, of his albums flat out suck. 1990’s “Under the Red Sky” comes to mind as an album I’ve listened to perhaps twice and hope never to cross again. But I am here to tell you that “Time Out of Mind” is one of his best albums, and “Love and Theft” ain’t nothin’ to sniff at either. So those people dissin’ Bob should shut up and flap their gums about things they know something about.