momebie: (Batgirl doodles)
I have, in rough estimate, written about 125,000 words this year. I'm going to end the year well short of my goal of 200,000 words and not having finished the one thing I wanted to have finished this year. That said, I don't think it's a failure.

I spent much of the first half of the year frozen and freaking out about a thing I shouldn't have been freaking out about. I'm pretty sure it's not going to be published, since I haven't heard back on it. That's not the reason I shouldn't have been freaking out about it. I shouldn't have been freaking out about it because it wasn't something to freak out about. And I think my freaking out is part of why it turned out the awkward way it did. I don't know why I get so caught up in my head about my writing and what other people want and what I think I can or can't do. I'd probably be a thousand times better off if I just ignored the rest of the world and wrote what made me happy. (Captain America cyberpunk-Last Unicorn AU, HERE I COME!)

ANYWAY. July happened. I had already moved and gotten the hard part of that out of the way. I finished and submitted that thing of which we will not speak. And I submitted a poem to a magazine call. That's really where the momentum took off. I got a rejection on the poem, but they also left a note listing three other publications to submit it to who they thought might take it, which is promising and probably part of why I've had the confidence to continue pursuing poetry, most fervently here at the end of the year. Out of three poems submitted to anything ever I've had two acceptances (one published online and one published in print) and one personal rejection. That's not terrible odds.

I still don't feel like I can call myself a poet, but I also don't feel embarrassed anymore to say that I write poetry. Progress all around, really. I'm currently getting help with a chapbook of queer fairy tale poems I'm going to submit to a contest in January. I still want to finish off the Sorry About the Robots chapbook and submit/publish that.

On the prose side it's been more about progress than completion, which I suppose is good in the long run, but it doesn't make me feel very accomplished. I had a breakthrough on Burst in the form of deciding to make it an all lady circus. I had a breakthrough on Dickhead Angels about the central conflict so that it's no longer just two dudes road tripping around the US ramping up sexual tension for no discernable reason. I wrote a fairy tale, which I should probably revisit to flesh out. I have had no breakthrough on Volunteer Vampires, which is what I told [ profile] theemdash I'd send her a draft of by the end of the year. I am still going to try to rewrite the WWII AU in the BDESFN universe to send to by the end of the year so I don't owe her $50. (Because real talk, I do not have $50.) And I think a lot about Dupe City, so I want to try and get something under my feet on that one in the new year.

Which brings me to the public service announcement portion of my talk:

GetYourWordsOut: Year Seven!
Pledges & Requirements |

DO YOU ENJOY WRITING? DO YOU LIKE TRACKING WORD COUNTS AND BEING HELD ACCOUNTABLE? THEN [ profile] getyourwordsout IS THE COMMUNITY FOR YOU. Going into its seventh year, the GYWO community is stronger than ever. We're trying out new things and getting people more involved. I'm running the community Tumblr. There are regular discussions and help posts and opportunities to share what you're working on. I can absolutely say that having the community around has helped me to get more done when I was feeling stuck. I highly recommend it to all you writerly types on my list, of which there are many.

So, all that said, it's time to think forward. I don't have a plan for the new year (though I'll work one out soon enough), but I do have a wish list of sorts. It looks like this.
  • Complete Sorry About the Robots. Figure out if I can submit it or if I should self-pub it.
  • Submit a poem for possible publication at least once a month.
  • Complete a draft of Burst.
  • Complete a draft of Volunteer Vampires.
  • Make headway on Dupe City.
  • Make headway on Dickhead Angels.
  • Continue to think about the BDESFN and do absolutely nothing about it.
  • Look at fairy tale and decide if it could be a YA novel.
  • Continue to come up with ludicrous ideas for future stories.

I think I'll have my hands full in 2015 in the best possible way.

What about you? How have you done this year? What are your goals for the next? Will you be joining the fun at GYWO?
momebie: (Tony Stark Robots Sorry)
Today's poem is WEIRD. And not very poem-y. But you know, editing will happen in December. I'm not actually as enamored with this as I was with the others, but I'm putting it here because it's not only a response to today's Poetic Asides prompt, but also another square checked off my [ profile] getyourwordsout setting table. So.

The prevailing theory,
said the tour guide
as it gestured with its pointer arm,
is that it was art that lead
to their downfall. All those years
with the ability to speak to anyone
and they couldn't come up with a single
way to see the world. It was all unclear,
right up until the end.

HEP7 looked at the paintings,
with his nostalgic, human-ish eye cameras.
I think you do them a disservice, he said.
Shuffled his flat, ungainly,
human-ish bases, and felt a very
un-machine-like tint flush through his coating
at the way the others in the group
all turned to look at him in accusation.

The whole room went silent. I think
we're losing something of nature, when we
discontinue the meaning of words like
romance, affliction, gestalt.
We needed to save this world from them,
but what good is it saved, if we merely
exist next to those things we curate?

The tour guide backed up, all-terain,
wide-tread feet, singing as they spun.
You misconstrue the purpose of these visits,
it said. Your education is to ensure,
we do not make their mistakes.

They thought that too,
HEP7 replied. A different vision made you
than made me. We're like these paintings.
We can't outrun their past.
They thought they were side-stepping
all the mistakes they'd made before,
opening up a whole new world
when they made us.

I don't know. I just like the idea of machines that fetishize the living as much as some of us fetishize machines. Bio-trans-machinists! Shut up, I'll make up any terms I want!
momebie: (X-Men Charles/Erik leaving)
So there's this blog I should follow and constantly forget about. People link me to posts on it all the time and every time I see one I think 'oh, that's clever and amusing, I should follow him'...and then I don't. Because I'm me. BUT, via a post this morning on [ profile] getyourwordsout I now know that he does flash fiction prompts every Friday, which is AWESOME. This week's was based on the old 'put your ipod on shuffle and name the story after the song that comes up' bit, so I felt compelled to play along. This is what I came up with. I'm not going to post it back to his blog, but it's part of that one story about the girl who can burst into birds, so I'll put it here with no shame at all.

If you wanted to hear my voice you’d simply play back any of the hundred voice mails I’m certain you save on your phone when I leave them. I think you wanted to hear your voice. )

And for those of you NOT familiar with Murder By Death, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!? this is the song I named the piece after. (No, really, sometimes I want to kiss [ profile] sweetnovicane on the mouth for introducing me to their music.)

momebie: (Angel Sanctuary setsuna torn)
I'm not going to repost ALL of the writing I did for [ profile] pocky_slash's Writer Chat Thingy, but I wanted to toss this one up and maybe clean it up a bit, so that I could use it to fill one of the challenges for [ profile] getyourwordsout. COME ON TEAM 150,000! YEAH WE'RE SLACKERS, BUT WE SLACK WITH STYLE! Also of interest, is the fact that this is the bit of writing that inspired the poem I posted for [ profile] therealljidol this week. I might still be freaking out about actually having done that, but I'm trying to learn to let things go. What was that goal of mine this week? Baby steps? Baby steps.

This is brought to you by the prompt 'a beautiful evening, spoiled', and [ profile] sparkism's suggestion that I cross over some of my universes, which resulted in angels over hearing loud lesbian sex. So um, yeah.

He spends four evenings just standing at the window and looking up into the night sky before he gets the urge to try sleeping. )


momebie: (Default)

February 2017

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