August, 2002. It’s the middle of the night. There is a newborn Gracie sleeping in her swing behind me, because she has a cold and it’s easier for her to breathe and sleep sitting propped up like that. Danni is asleep in her room, getting a good night’s rest; she’s about to start third grade.* My life is made of bottles and diapers and laundry and multiplication tables. Grace’s dad and I were both recently laid off and so have the luxury of sleeping in shifts so that we can each get a full eight hours; I have taken the night shift.

I’ve given up on World News Tonight and am sitting at our faux-Mission-style Kmart desk, staring at the computer screen. I’m 30 years old, and I have recently decided that it’s time for me to start writing again. I’ve realized that writers don’t just spring fully formed from the brow of Zeus, they actually learn how to do it, and they practice. I now have some experience both mentoring and being mentored in other areas of life, and I know that there are people out there who can help me learn how to achieve my goals, people who I can learn the craft from. So I search the web.

First I find Holly Lisle’s website, and join Forward Motion–my first steps into the writing community.

And I find the SFWA website. I read every article they have posted: about writing, about publishing, about the business, about the craft. These are pros I’m reading, the people I want to learn from, and I’m trying to take it all in. I want to know what to expect, and I’m getting that from these articles. It takes me a few nights; when I’m done I go back and read them all again.

Ten years, I say to myself. Ten years seems reasonable. I could be a member in ten years.

Flash forward to 2006, and I’m in my 6×12 office that we’ve built in the garage specifically as a writing space. The room smells heavily of the pumpkin spice fragrance oil I got at Pier 1. I’m positioned at the heavy oak desk we bought at the salvage store. I’ve been to the Santa Barbara Writers Conference and have learned how to workshop. I’m on the SFWA site reading Myrtle the Manuscript for what, maybe the fifth time? Because now I’m finally finishing things and sending them out in large manila envelopes with SASEs, and I want to remind myself what I’m in for. I’m eager to collect my first rejection. I plan to frame it and hang it here beside my desk.

Six more years, I think. I’m on my way.

Present day: This morning I made my third professional sale. I am so proud to be a part of this book. It was a difficult story for me to write, because the subject matter is so far outside my comfort zone, and I did it on short notice. I worked very hard, really challenged myself, and it paid off. It’s a very satisfying feeling.

But what rivals that is that today I upgraded my SFWA membership from Associate to Active.

Grace is nine years old now. I gave myself ten years, and I did it in nine.

I’m not sure why this is such a big deal to me. Maybe it’s just that I’ve never set a long-term goal like that before. To say “I will do this thing in ten years” and then keep taking those steps, one day at a time, and wake up one day and find that I’m here, and a year early–I’m proud of myself. I want to hug that 2002 me, and the 2006 me, and the 2008 me that was getting really tired, and the 2010 me that was so sure that first sale was a total fluke and it was never going to happen again.

So if you’re out there trudging, take heart. Every day is bringing you closer to your goal. One foot in front of the other. Keep going.

I reached a milestone today, but the journey ain’t over.

Back to work.

* edited for bad math.

I have a new post up at Inkpunks about my freakazoid application of structure to short fiction.

I <3 my white board.

Nader Elhefnawy of Tangent reviewed Year’s Best Science Fiction & Fantasy 2011, and had some kind words for my story.

Thanks, Nader! Glad you liked it. Made my day. :)

John got the Proposal post, so I get the wedding post.

We have amazing friends and family, that much is clear. Which is really why we decided to throw a wedding in the first place–we talked about eloping, but we knew that there are people in our lives who really felt invested in our relationship, and rightly so. It seemed like the thing to do would be to throw a party. So we did. In Reno. During Worldcon. We held it in the morning, so as to only minimally interfere with Worldcon programming, and had a brunch reception. And it was awesome.

We went with our hearts and our senses of humor in this, so my hair remained its usual pink and red, and my dress was blue. John and his best man, Rob Bland, wore Converse with their suits. Our parents were seated to symphonic Metallica, and we walked to the theme from Friday Night Lights. I didn’t have a florist–I made flowers out of a 1940s book of quotations (carefully removing the pages with quotes from Hitler and Stalin) and little planets for the centerpieces for the reception, and the bouquets and boutonnieres. The table assignments were printed on bookmarks designed by my oldest daughter, Danni, which we set out in vintage SFF mags for the guests to take home. We decided against a cake, and had donuts instead. My kids were my bridesmaids, my oldest dressed in her usual Lolita garb.

We hired wedding planner Melody Holland, who we found through our friend Erin Stocks–she made everything so much easier! She found the venue (The Grove at South Creek) and the photographer (Zinser Photography) and really it couldn’t have been more perfect.

Our friend John Remy acted as officiant–he and I had both got our ordinations from Universal Life late one night last year, and when John proposed I knew I wanted Remy to officiate. He graciously did all of the legwork (there is quite a bit involved in getting legal in NV if you don’t already live there.) When it came to a ceremony, we got a little bit stuck. Nothing we found online was really speaking to us. We were talking about it in the car one day, and one of us commented that we wished we could find something like Vylar Kaftan‘s short story from the first issue of Lightspeed, “I’m Alive, I Love You, I’ll See You in Reno.” She used the language of science so beautifully in that story to explain love and relationships. And we had bonded over that story when we first started dating. The natural solution to the problem of a ceremony came to us: ask Vylar to write it for us! John emailed her, and she enthusiastically agreed. We tweaked it a little bit, adding some humor and our personalities to it, and in the end it was exactly what we wanted.

Morgan Dempsey put together our playlist when I was just too overwhelmed to think about it, mostly instrumental metal. And then the capper–there were several people who weren’t going to be able to make it, and Jaym Gates suggested that we stream the wedding for them. She arranged it all, and I was so happy and grateful to know that my brother was “there,” along with our friends Adam, Robyn, Molly, Paula, Genevieve, and more. (I actually haven’t seen the recording yet, so I don’t know for sure who all tuned in!)

The best part, we agreed later, was walking to the dais together and seeing our friends and family there, all smiling, all so happy for us, all glad to be there. For me it was a powerful reminder of how much my life has changed since I met John–how happy my family is, how close my friends are, how supportive our community is, and how very lucky we are to be a part of it.

During the ceremony John’s friend Dave Kirtley read a passage from Chapter 18 of So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish by Douglas Adams–I had completely forgotten about that passage, and it was really perfect–and my dear friend Wendy Wagner read a wedding poem by Neil Gaiman, at which point she cried, and then we cried, and everyone who had been holding it together so well up to that point–well, they cried. John and I spoke our vows, Remy proclaimed us (in very egalitarian terms) husband and wife…and we high-fived, Tweeted our status, and THEN kissed.

When it was over we took pictures (omg the pictures) and ate brunch. John thanked everyone for coming, and thanked individuals who had helped–somehow we neglected to mention John Remy specifically, which I’ve felt terrible about ever since, so Remy, THANK YOU. Rob gave a toast in which he very accurately described John as a man of transformation–I know how much Rob loves John, and vice-versa, and I’m positive that now everyone who was there does too.

And then, in lieu of a first dance, it was time for the First Family Rock Band Session. We had practiced as a family ahead of time, and I’ll tell you, Grace can sing a mean (and adorable) GLaDOS.

The rest of it was mingling and chatting and Rock Band. By all accounts people had a great time, which was of course the point. Pablo Defendini did an excellent job of live-tweeting the proceedings (#worldconwedding, #yantadams, #adamsyant if you’d like see.)

I won’t get the professional pictures back for a month, but in the meantime we did ask Vylar if we could post the ceremony.

We’re so grateful to everyone who came all the way to Reno, and thanks to everyone for your congratulations and good wishes.

And thus begins the collaboration of a lifetime.

Wedding Ceremony, by Vylar Kaftan

Welcome

Welcome, everyone–friends, family, and members of our community. Thank you for coming to celebrate the wedding of John and Christie. They will start their married life together in the presence–and tele-presence–of the people they care most about. The ceremony will take only a few minutes, and Christie and John are truly delighted and grateful that you could join them today to celebrate their commitment to each other.

There is a trend these days toward turning electronics off during weddings–but this is not that wedding. Please feel free to live-Tweet the proceedings. As we all know, John and Christie wouldn’t have it any other way. That said, please do silence your phones.

Definition of marriage

I’ll start with a definition of marriage.

Our vast universe consists mostly of empty space, with a few particles scattered throughout like lonely specks. In a few places–like the scattered galaxies, and deep bellies of stars, and the far-flung planets in distant star systems–these particles gather, and form celestial bodies.

All the matter in the universe, all the stars and their afterbirth that fuels the life in all of us–this matter is in each of us. We are all born of stardust, and we spend a few glorious years thinking and breathing until returning to our origins. Every part of our beings was born lightyears away, in a galaxy we most likely have not named, nor even imagined.

These atoms that form us–once stars, they became elements, and then the far-flung planets of distant solar systems. They became water and rocks and clouds, and countless miniscule life forms. And these atoms became us. The sheer improbability that humans would exist here, on this planet, thinking and breathing and loving each other, is one of the great mysteries of the universe.

We don’t know entirely how it happened, but only that it has.

And that is the marvel of marriage: that of all these atoms, around fourteen octillion of them combined to form Christie and John, and that the two hundred billion neurons in their minds brought them together here today. John and Christie, and all that they are, join their lives today with a bond science will not break. They commit to a lifetime as partners in love.

That is the marvel, and we are here today to witness it, and share the joy and amazement of life and love and everything we hold dear.

Readings

David Barr Kirtley – from “So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish” by Douglas Adams
Wendy Wagner – a wedding poem, by Neil Gaiman

Community Support

Now I’d like to ask the community that Christie and John are so much a part of, and so cherish, to support them in their commitment to each other.

All of us gathered here today–we are a part of this same universe, these same shared elements that are John and Christie. As members of the human race, born of the same stardust, we share in their joys and their heartbreaks. We provide the constellations in which their stars shine. We are part of their universe. I’d like to ask everyone gathered here to support John and Christie–to care for them, to respect them, to honor them as they build their lives together as a couple. Will you who are present here give Christie and John the gift of your friendship and love? Please say “we will.”

Audience: We will.

Vows

And now we come to the vows. Both John and Christie are choosing each other, and their vows. While they did not crowd-source their vows, they did store them in the cloud. John… [John pulls iPhones from pockets.]

Christie: John, I promise to love, honor, and cherish you as we move through our lives. I vow to spend my life with you. I am so humbled and grateful that you have chosen me. I will always be your partner, your ally, your collaborator, and your friend. I look forward to many years together. The best is yet to come.

[Christie gives John a ring]

John: Christie, I promise to love, honor, and cherish you as we move through our lives. I feel like my life truly began when I met you, and I never thought I could be this happy. But even so, I know the best is still to come, and in the presence of our family and friends,with these words I pledge to share my life and my self with you.

[John gives Christie a ring]

JR: Christie, do you take John as your husband?

Christie: I do.

JR: John, do you take Christie as your wife?

John: I do.

JR: With the exchanges of these rings and vows, they declare their marriage. We have all witnessed John and Christie as husband and wife, partners for life. Christie and John, you may now high five.

[John and Christie high-five]

JR: And Tweet your status.

[Rob returns iPhones, John and Christie tweet]

**SMOOCHY**

In the past week, I have:

• Finished nine centerpieces, three bouquets, and three boutonnieres in the nick of time
• Driven to Reno with my fiancé and two children
• Attended Worldcon
• Watched my friend Alan Smale win the Sidewise Award for Alternate History
• Arrived late to the induction of our newest Inkpunk, Galen Dara
• Married said fiancé, thus leveling him up to Husband
• Spent time with all manner of family and friends
• Prepared and practiced an acceptance speech on behalf of Tony C. Smith, who kindly designated me as his accepter if he won the Hugo for the second time
• Attended the Hugos Reception, and had my picture taken with the other nominees in the Best Fanzine category
• Was briefly disappointed for Tony when the Sofa didn’t win, but that was quickly wiped away by the sheer boundless gratitude and enthusiasm of the Drink Tank winners.
• Held my husband’s hand as he lost two Hugos (but still. TWO NOMINATIONS. In the first year of Lightspeed!)
• Spent the last night of the con in a hotel hallway with some of my favorite people in the world. (Adam Israel, you were sorely missed.)
• Caught Conplague and drove nine hours home
• Arrived to a home decorated in a just-married theme by my dear friend Michelle, a very helpful rejection from GVG, a Boba Fett t-shirt from John, and the latest edition of Realms of Fantasy, in which Alan has a story.

Am now sitting happily in my own bed, doped up on Aleve-D and prepping the next submission.

I really do intend to get back to the Taos Toolbox overview, but things were just too crazy with the wedding and Worldcon coming up. They’re over now, though, thus returning my brain to its full processing power.

More soon.

I am home from Taos Toolbox. I am still going to go over notes and memories and fill in the blanks, including some FAQs I’m getting (the short answer is: Yes, you should apply.)

But for now I’m going to spend the last few hours of my vacation recalibrating to my almosthusband and our life.

More soon.

Today is Saturday, our first “day off” since we arrived. Naturally, nobody actually took it off. Walter posted a comment to Facebook saying that we are the hardest working class he’s ever day–I can believe it. Nobody here is fucking around.

With the notable exception of last night. We ended the week with a plotting exercise. My novel was the subject, since it needed SO MUCH help. It took a dozen people more than three hours, but by Crom we got that thing plotted. I am SO grateful to my classmates for their help. But after that we were all beat and ready to blow off some steam. We went to town, went to dinner, came back with whiskey and wine, and stayed up ’til 3:00 a.m. talking in the common room. I am continually amazed at how great everyone is: kind, smart, funny–all of the things that are most important in friends.

There is already some talk about doing retreats together in the future.

Even now, it’s Movie Night–Memento is on the tv but some of us still have our notepads and laptops out.

Today I finally finished a draft of “The Three Feats of Agani,” a story that I’ve been agonizing over for the past six months. We’ll see how critique goes.

Today Nancy talked about effective description–that it needs to be specific, tonal, and interactive. By this she means that it’s not enough to say someone has a beer–whether it’s Oly or Blue Moon matters, because it tells you something about the person. For description to be tonal, it needs to take on characteristics based on the viewpoint character’s state of mind. The shade of a tree can be cooling, sheltering, restful, or depressing and sinister, depending on who is standing in it and where their mind is at. Interactive description involves a character coming into contact with the thing being described. So sure the coverlet is red, but standing in a room saying the coverlet is red is just kind of boring, so you say instead that she threw the red coverlet to the floor.

This came up a lot during the critique of my novel excerpt. I have what Nancy calls “White Room Syndrome,” and I know it. I even have “White City Syndrome” because I’ve been afraid to just go ahead and decide what city it’s taking place in (Minneapolis is where I originally thought it should be, and I think I’ll just go with it). I have a much easier time imagining people interacting with each other than with their environments, so there’s a lot of scene-setting that just hasn’t happened, or in some cases, happened too late. So I have a lot of work to do in that area.

Walter talked more about plotting today, which is another area where I am in sore need of help. I won’t recount his entire lecture here, but some of the techniques for building plot that he went over are:

-Doubling, where the main character’s problems and situation are mirrored by another character, who takes a different approach to it.
-Conflict.
-Back story.
-Side story, subplot. Subplots should reflect on main character and his/her problems.
-Foreshadowing. Crucial for surprises, particularly changes in character.
-Red Herring.
-Deleted affair, where the entire story occurs immediately after an event we never see, such as a war.
-Raising the stakes.
-Reveals and reversals.
-Literalizing the metaphor.
-Pyrrhic victory.
-Narrative hook.
-Frame story and framing device.

In Found Objects I’m trying to use doubling, side story/subplots, and reveals and reversals. We’ll see what else I end up with. I apologized again to the class for not having my outline done, and Walter asked if I would mind having my novel used in a class plotting exercise on Friday. Mind? I am SO GRATEFUL for the help! I really want this thing to work–I love the characters and theme but damn do I not know how to plot something as long as a novel. Short stories, no probem. Novels, I’m at a total loss.

The class really seems to be gelling. They’re all just such nice people, sincere and pleasant to be around. I wish we had a little more time to socialize, but we’re all working too hard for now. Maybe this weekend.

So far, so good. My only complaint is that my stomach hasn’t stopped hurting since I got up here. I was talking to my suitemate and she said hers did the same thing at high elevations in Colorado. It’s pain, not queasiness, which would be more readily associated with the elevation–but then when everyone in the house has the stomach flu and is hurling I just get pain for several days, so maybe this is what queasy feels like to me. It’s worst when I eat, so dinner is kind of a tense affair for me as I try not to grimace my way through a delicious meal. I’m really hoping it resolves soon, because it sucks and it’s making it hard to sleep, or eat, or smile.

Our assignment tonight was to write a paragraph of no more than seven sentences describing a person alone in a room in a house, doing something. I still have that and one more critique to do, so I’d better get to it.

More tomorrow!

So it started today, for real. Got up at 7:00 and was in the common room by 8:00, finishing up a critique. People filtered in and we got started right on time.

Nancy talked today about writing in scenes, and the necessary elements of a scene:

• Orientation – where, when, who
• Purpose – advances plot, deeps characterization
• Dramatization – dialog, action, description, thought
• Tension – what the character wants
• Ending

Walter discussed plot, and gave us handouts on Lester Dent’s Master Plot Formula, and Campbell’s Hero’s Journey (as examples of plots and how to understand them–he wasn’t advocating their use.) Our assignment for tonight was to pick an existing movie, break down the plot, find the turning point, and then write a different ending. This could be in synopsis form, or we could actually write it out if we wanted. I summarized. I picked The Truman Show.

Apart from workshop time and dinner I’ve been in my room, reading for tomorrow’s session, working on that assignment, and thinking about which project I’m going to work on for next week.

Tomorrow my poor little novel is up for critique–based on some things Nancy said this morning during her lecture I know what some of the problems are that my classmates will undoubtedly be commenting on. “White Box Syndrome” struck me in particular–I have had a hell of a time setting the scene in the second chapter, so I fully expect to be called out on that.

It’s funny, I found myself severely rattled while giving my two minutes of notes to my fellows on their work, but I’m not nervous about my own being critiqued at all. Maybe it’s because I already think it’s weak, so I figure I can’t really be disillusioned. I’m certainly not here because I think it’s great, or even good–if I thought it was good I’d be asking Wendy and John to read it, and if I thought it was great I’d be querying agents. (I wonder if I will ever think it’s great?)

Oh and Nancy let me off the hook on the outline/synopsis–she says she can’t write the damned things either. So we’ll see if anyone thinks they’d want to read on without knowing what I had planned next.

My classmates are all smart, talented, serious writers. It’s nice to be back in a workshop setting–it feels a lot like the SBWC workshops, really, except that we’re critiquing more pages. I miss John and the kids already, but it’s familiar, and comfortable, even so far away from home.

I am writing this from a tiny California Pizza Kitchen in a terminal in my least favorite airport in the world, namely LAX. I am assured that it is only my least favorite because I haven’t been through Chicago O’Hare. I happily concede this point.

The last time I sat in this spot, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a California Pizza Kitchen–I think it may have been a Burger King. But I recognize the mural behind me–I have pictures of it. The last time I was here I was on my way to Defcon in Vegas. This time I’m on my way to Taos Toolbox.

I haven’t had time to get excited about it. Wedding stuff took up every spare minute of the past couple of weeks–I didn’t even get my outline done in time. Clearly I have a gift for planning major life events. I haven’t been able to get excited about the wedding, actually, either–there’s still too much to do. I’ll probably get excited half an hour before the music starts, when there’s nothing left for me to do or worry about getting done.

I wonder if I’ll be able to turn all of that off for the next two weeks and just be a writer. The stuff that needs doing I mostly need to be home to do, so worrying about it will be particularly ineffective.

The novel I’m workshopping is an urban fantasy absolutely riddled with plot holes. This makes me feel incompetent, like I’m going to be the remedial kid in class. John assures me that a workshop is a perfect place to get help in working out those plot holes. He is usually right about most things.

I’m fond of the characters, though, and many of the ideas, so I hope that my classmates and instructors will find something worth fixing in it.

I started reading my classmates’ manuscripts on the first leg of the journey, and am preparing to get my crit on. We have two minutes to present our notes. I haven’t done face to face critique in a couple of years now.

I should get as much done as I can now–I only got four hours of sleep, so the longer I’m up the less likely it is that I’ll be coherent. Class starts at 10:00 tomorrow morning–I won’t get in to Taos until about 9:30 tonight. I wonder if people will be exhausted from travel and hiding in their rooms, or if the adrenaline will kick in and everyone will want to hang out and get to know each other?

–

Update: Exhausted. Classmate Jeff and I were the last to arrive at 11:00 p.m. (it was much further from ABQ than we thought! Good thing we like each other) Have met my suitemate, who waited up for me. Passing out now. Workshop begins at 10:00 a.m. More tomorrow!