Spit'n polish (or: Counterpunch is done)

I need to keep better track of when I start books. But I'm reasonably sure that I started "Counterpunch" in about February. That's a 55k novel in three months. Writing four novels per year can be done, but I'm personally aiming more for 2-3 plus some small fry, because I don't want to burn out in a year or two.

In the last three days, I've applied a spit'n polish edit to the manuscript, which is the quick read-through and typo-fix and continuity check that I do on my own before things go out to betas. In this case, as it's a story set (mostly) in London, this went out to two Brits.

I'm now in the post-book slump. It's a weirdly calm place (no voices in my head), but also very low energy. I struggle to do more than make coffee or get dressed. Getting catapulted from one "reality" into the other is jarring, and part of me desperately wants to escape back into a different book world. But at the same time, I know that's not good. I need to regather, regroup, and recover. Sleep, rest, read, research. While I'm in the throes of writing, all that feels like wasted time to me, but I really need some rest.

So, I figure I'll finish the three books on boxing that I acquired, to be ready for the rewriting. And after that, I'm off to WWII.

Ironically, "Thor", as weak as it was (especially all the stuff in Asgard), has triggered an idea for a book. Since that idea isn't really mine, I need to get in touch with a friend of mine who has an unsold manuscript. I'm figuring I might be able to convince him to hand the idea over to me. It's suitably "high concept" and generally awesome, but he won't be able to sell it in Germany.

And once I'm done with that time period, I'm returning to the crusades and William Raven. (And that other templar I haven't talked about yet.)

Meanwhile, the taxpayer-sponsored spectacle of two nice young people getting married unfolds. And here I thought the Windsors had enough spare cash to pay for all that themselves. Silly me. I'm assured the influx of a few million tourists makes it all worthwhile, and they may just have saved the London-based camping industry.

Me, I'm haunted by the memories of Diana. The nicest, sanest people have to get damaged under all that public pressure. And Kate, while apparently incredibly nice and sweet, is far removed from a "modern queen-in-waiting", as she's been called. We're looking at a woman who has no other ambitions in her life but her prince and to look good on camera. I've seen that model of womanhood fail so often in both my family and those of my friends that I cringe inwardly when I see women submit like that.

And let's not forget that only her male kids can become kings, whereas even a first-born daughter has no rights to the throne. The whole spectacle is so anachronistic. At least we're having a day off... but I rather suspect that the London infrastructure wouldn't be able to cope with people trying to get to work while the inner city is full of watchers.

On towards the weekend

I did show up for work on Thursday, which was also the busiest day of the week. Editing back-to-back for eight hours while kept upright (mostly) by Lemsip and a box of cough sweets is an interesting experience. Don't ask me what I edited - I'm sure I could find out, but I don't remember.

I was invited to attend a "focus group" of one of the military museums in London tomorrow. I *assume* they invite carefully-chosen "members of the public" to ask them questions about the collection and presentation. I'm selling myself as an "expert" on military stuff (which I guess is not overselling), and I fit into the categories they were looking for. I'll get paid for my time, too, but I'd feel weird accepting cash from a museum, so I'll likely invest that in a "friends of the National Army Museum" membership and donate the rest. I'd feel too weird having *them* pay *me*. Museums, libraries and all other noble causes can have my services for free.

The cough has broken, and after a pretty rotten day yesterday, I'm actually a lot more lively today and more together. I can also breathe deeply, which is nice. You take too many things for granted. My voice is husky, though, so my partner addressed me all day as "hey, Croaker", which is funny in a Black Company kinda way.

My team in the bank keeps digging about my writing. The geek factor in the team is much higher than I'd have expected. They know a fair amount, but I'm still keeping the pseudonym under wraps. However, it might be the first workplace I come out to while still working for the place. (I tend to tell my chosen few friends in any team after I've left.) It's not like they can fire me for it - it doesn't affect my work performance and I have three levels of superiors who are extremely reasonably, human and simply *nice*. I've rarely worked for a more grown-up, mature and pleasant place. No back-stabbing - if there are any politics, it's us against the research analysts - and only the assholes there (of which there are very few. But those that are unpleasant, all regard us like a utility... somewhere on the same level as the toilets. Mildly distasteful, a bit of a hassle and generally not something you'd respect.) However, 97% of all analysts are nice, and we have ways of dealing with those that aren't.

I shall meditate on the risks and boons associated with it. I'm not ashamed of what I'm doing, and they know about the genre and even that I'm a sex writer (when the situation calls for it, anyway). It might be interesting to see how they react. Maybe I'll come out with "Iron Cross", which may be the most respectable of all my books. I'll see. Or, as I keep telling people when they ask what the attraction of London is, "it's very hard to be a freak in London."

The boxer story is at 12k.

I'm not ill, I just feel rotten

I'm in denial about my health at the moment, but when I got up and my vision greyed for a moment I thought, "okay, maybe I do work from home today". I don't want to go into graphic detail, but I seem to have the cold from hell. Blood is involved, too. Headaches. Woozyness. It's not the "clutch blanket, hide in bed" kinda cold, but it's bad enough that the last thing I want is to commute, cattle class, into London.

So I'm working from home, surrounded by Lemsip, dressed in several layers of clothes I can strip really fast when I get too hot, and also food so I remember to eat. (Last thing I want do to with a raw throat is eat - also, my body goes "Uh, no, don't give me food, can't you see I'm BUSY fighting those virii/bacteria, idjit.") At least I'm mostly coherent.

On the writing front, "Father of All Things" went back to Carina on Saturday (12. Feb). It got a completely new ending, and rewrites of about 6-7k of text. Which sounds easy, but trust me, it isn't. That book will be out on 15 August.

Then Dreamspinner has just emailed me to tell me that "Scorpion" in now in the editing stage. I expect the whole manuscript to come back to me in the next 4-6 weeks. Working on that will kick-start "Lying with Scorpions", the sequel.

My boxer story (the fist fighter, not the garment or the dog) hit 10k yesterday. It might grow to anything between 30-60k, but I expect it to be in the mid-range of that, so around 40-45k. I'd love for it to turn into a novel, of course, because I love the main character, as random and bipolar as he is. Working title of that is "Untouchable", but I may yet change that.

Then I got a very insightful, well-written review from Book Utopia for "Lion of Kent". While I respectfully disagree about the relative quality of "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" and "Lion of Kent" (DADT is four years old and I'd be shocked if I hadn't developed as a writer in the meantime, plus, Kate Cotoner is hugely talented and really made the novella shine), there's a lot of food for thought in the review.

"This historical does what not very many in this genre really do for me – made me forget I was reading a historical. It’s not because of the lack of detail to create the setting. It’s the opposite. The story is just so well-realized that it never feels intrusive, never feels like I’m being reminded page after page that this happened a long time ago. It rings of authenticity, which is a credit both to the rather seamless prose and the meticulous structure of its presentation. There aren’t awkward information dumps, or pages of facts that have nothing to do with moving the story forward. I sank into this story as if I was a squire within Sir Robert’s household already, a natural extension of the world the authors created."

Read the rest here.

I'm apprehensive about writing the sequel to "Lion of Kent". It's not just the amount of research or the fact that, most likely, I'll be writing it alone, it's above all the extremely high expectations I have for that book. I'd hate for it to be any worse than "Lion of Kent".

Research for "Iron Cross" continues, but I'm slow on the word count. While I consider 1,000 words written on any story a good day's work, for "Iron Cross", 100 words is good work. I keep wondering if there's something wrong with my outline or plot that it moves so slowly, or if I'm lazy or procrastinating, but I don't think it's that. I may still hit my deadline with that - May.

Yet more good news

My partner just got the offer from an investment bank, which means a 30% salary increase. He's pretty chuffed. So am I. Making grandiose plans of taking over the world after London, too. But in the end, it's all going towards the house and the pension. We're already doing nicely, everything extra is now for financial  planning. I did not plan to work until I'm 70 or whatever the age will be at that time.

Thanks to uneven workload (feast or famine, at the moment it's famine), I'm done with my first major research book for Iron Cross (covering German history from 1870 to 1933) and have gathered some ideas for the characters' background. Questions such as "when did the American press began to report on Nazi atrocities commited against Jews" and "where could Richard have attended university" are answered. The answers are: as early as Jan/Feb 1933 and "Heidelberg or Marburg" (personally I tend towards Marburg, since I know that city). There are also many details I hadn't considered, and things like "un-Germanic art" and the bookburnings are put into perspective.

I do like reading those sweeping histories and start tell before my book's set. To write Vadim in "Special Forces", I read a 600-700 pages history of the Soviet Union, starting well, well before 1979, when "Special Forces" starts. The idea is to understand what issues and events shaped the characters growing up and getting to where they are. In Vadim's case, the relationship with his father and the way the totalitarian system twisted his character, even though, strictly speaking, 1979 was not in the teeth of the red terror. Nevertheless, people living in 1979 would remember - or have friends/family that would remember - the terror and the purges and the enforced uniformity. Fascinating stuff.

In Richard's case, the book burnings would have an impact. He'd notice the drop in quality of literature. He'd agree that Expressionism is ugly, but I think he likes modern literature and some of the discourses playing out in the twenties and thirties would have made an impact. He'd agree that the Communists need to be suppressed as they were clearly going to overturn the Weimar Republic. But if it had been for Richard, he'd have opted for a proper military dictatorship under Hindenburg. He'd largely agree with Kurt vom Hammerstein, for example. Very interesting - that'll give me enough of a foundation to not make the mistake of making the "good guy" into a democrat, because for all intents and purposes with his background and class, there's just no way he could have been.

If I've learnt anything about "Iron Cross" it's that it, like "Special Forces", very much dictates its own terms on which I can approach it. And that's really how historical novels should be, I think.

Das Eiserne Kreuz

Whenever I'm silent on my own blog, it means I'm super-stressed (well, that state is in the past, but accounted for most of my silences over the last 6 months), depressed/blocked (whining in public is an indulgence I try to stay away from - nobody cares to hear a writer whining) or busy writing.

I'm happy to inform you guys that I'm busy writing. Enforcing bank house style on analysts while powered with free coffee and a remarkably sane, pleasant environment is fifteen kinds of good for my writing. My Spotify subscription keeps feeding me new music (I need a certain type of music to fall into the page) and generally, I enjoy hanging out with writer friends.

Me, I've been busy learning the new house style and rewriting the nonsense some financial people rush out of the door (and keep from laughing at German-isms in some reports - sometimes I want to call the people and tell them "this doesn't mean what you think it means", but that would be gloating). But I've always enjoyed working on texts (mine are harder to fiddle with), and dealing with non-fiction leaves the brain fresh to work on fiction. Everybody wins. Me most of all.

So. What am I writing? Saturday I completed my developmental edits of "Father of all Things", which is now with Rhianon to get checked before it goes back to Carina. Sunday I built that website (and badgered Gileonnen into helping me with the bits I couldn't do - I'm graphically challenged). And both Saturday and Sunday, I wrote "Iron Cross". One scene came out absolutely beautifully. I'm really in tune with the characters now. I know them, deeply, closely, and I love them both, deeply, truly. I even connect with the supporting cast and the evil guy/s. This is a straight from the heart book. The book I want to write if I only had two weeks left to live. And I don't care if anybody buys it. I've already pulled it from one publisher (as I needed more time), and this one I'll polish like a fire opal to get all colors out of the dull stone.

So, yeah, 600 words here and 1,200 words there. Slow by my standards, but I really can't rush this one. I'll have to go the full 90-100k with this one, and this means measured steps, every single one deliberate like Tai Chi movements. The main struggle is to make it flow, so self-consciousness makes stuff harder than it has to be.

But I read those 1,200 words and they are really, really good. Sometimes my literary delusions are rearing their funny little heads again, sprouting every now and then when my ego's close to bursting, but those words were exactly how I wanted them to come out. Unity of intention and result in writing is so unbelievably rare that the words ring extremely loud in my inner ear when it's exactly, exactly what I wanted to say. There on the page. Not a dream. Real. Tangible. Frozen for eternity. There are few bigger thrills to a writer. It's when you strike gold. When the singer hits the note so clear and strong the energy soars right through every vein in pure light. Nothing in the world is better.

So, I'm going to reward myself for getting back into the book and get myself a replica of the medal that plays such a big role in the book. I think it might help keep me focused as it's sitting on my desk. And keep me grounded in the more somber facts behind the book.

Christmas at Casa Voinov

We did the gift exchange just after midnight, or during the first minutes of the 25th. This is an age old compromise I worked out with my partner. For Germans, Christmas is on the evening of the 24th. For Brits, it's on the 25th. Since there's no way I'll wait a day longer than I have to, and it doesn't feel "right" for my partner to be out of synch with the rest of the country, we'rte going for "just after midnight". So, psychologically, it's "still 24th", and legally, technically, it's the 25th.

This year, I got some geeky t-shirts (Gears of War related, and one is made from bamboo - didn't know such existed - very pleasant to wear), some assorted knick-knacks (a belt? Are my trousers sagging so much?), and very nice headphones from Skullcandy. That is, of course, so I don't have to crank up the volume so much and so that my partner doesn't hear my music from three rooms away (or in bed). And it makes a world of a difference.

We went to a friend's place to eat turkey and the whole British traditional Christmas dinner, played some board and card games, then trundled home, bellies full of alcoholic ginger beer and turkey and chocolate.

"Scorpion 2" aka "Lying with Scorpions" is 4k at this point, and I'm planning to write some of that today. Plus some "Iron Cross", while the Muse has me.

And that's perfect holidays - writing, few distractions, and good books, all topped off with presents and food.

Revision request - novel surgery

I got a revision request - rather than a contract - from the publisher I subbed TCaS to. It all makes perfect sense, and is in line with what I thought I'd fixed, but apparently not enough. Time schedules being what they are, this will push back "Iron Cross" for at least another 4-6 weeks. That's the timeframe we're looking at to rewrite a significant part of the novel and then slot it back in and make it appear like there are no transplantation/surgery scars.

Hiding those scars isn't an easy job, actually. It has to be all natural and organic, but most of all, inevitable. However, if it had been inevitable, then it would have happened in Draft I, II and III. So that's the biggest sleight-of-hand trick - to make readers think that the book they are reading is the only possible version of that book. We hand them a bottle of water and need to convince them - with a straight face - that water can only live in bottles.

Again, this will mean a full print-out of the novel (a big folder of paper, it's around 90k), and then writing a synopsis by chapter. The beginning has to change, every scene needs to be slightly adapted, and one of the plots (granted, the smaller one), is flawed and needs more... more of everything.

I think that'll cost me a couple months, and since both Raev and me are busy with what they call "real life", this is going to be tough. Expect to read a lot of whining and bitching about it. In the end, however, I'm learning how to revise novels. That's a skill all novels will benefit from.

Talking about revising, I'm currently going through the galleys for "Transit", which is another chunk of work (at 98 pages or thereabouts). It has to be done.

First the current magazine issue, then "Transit", then "Scorpion", then TCaS, and Iron Cross. I'd wager that's my year taken care of. I have no idea how on earth I'll be able to slot in "Pawn" - there aren't enough hours in the day to completely edit another full-sized novel that needs some serious beta-ing from a Russian.

Well. Magazine work today, Transit and Scorpion this week. I'll see what happens if I just knuckle down.

Weekend accomplishments

On Saturday, I finished my edits for "Father of all Things", aka "FOAT", and now waiting for Rhianon to sort out her edits. The synopsis is primed and ready.

I went back to "Scorpion" and added another 1,200 words. I surprised myself there, too, as the plot made a reappearance halfway through a pretty grim sex scene. I'm now at 26k, and hoping for 60k at least, so I might get a paperback out of it. Maybe. Depending very much on the publisher I go with and a couple other factors. I'm certainly not rushing this one.

This is going to be the tough week just before the magazine goes off to the printer. I have a long list of stuff that I should have done and didn't, for various reasons, so I don't expect to get much writing done this week as I try and catch up with the plan.

But then, I'll be off in Moscow next week, and I get a lot done while on the move - airports for me are incredibly productive places. I think I'll get a lot of reading and research done for "Iron Cross".

So, yeah, I'm now working on both novels at the same time. Researching one while writing the other. That's my year sorted. Bring on Christmas.

Just before the break

Currently in edits for the secret project, it's absolutely hopping at work and only gearing up towards getting crazy!mad again. So very little to report - too busy, brain too worn down after work for long introspective pieces.

"Lion of Kent" keeps getting great reviews, though, and ranks highly on the Amazon bestseller lists (#36 in Gay fiction and #56 in the gay Kindle list). I'm curious to see what the sales are like, but I'll know in about 6 months.

Today I went to St Paul's Cathedral where they have a Spitfire and a guy in a costume and some relevant bits and pieces exhibited. Made photos on the iPhone, but not sure yet if they are any good. Seeing one of the planes up close is still pretty awesome when you're writing about them. I was pretty close to going to the RAF Museum just to see one, and then they put one directly outside the office extra for me.

Very worried about an online friend with no idea what's happened to her. And dreading, as every year, November. There's this sense of impending dread which might be in part worry for friends and in part just general anxiety. I reckon I might pull back further and marshal my troops for a couple weeks. It's also, always, a tough time when I'm trying to get a novel launched and one finished. Attention/focus can only be split so many ways.

I think once the secret project is done, I'll take a break from writing for a few weeks. Let's see how that goes, but I think I need to recover my energy and fill my heart with images and fresh words. A good time to read and exercise and otherwise do very little at all.

Another review for "Deliverance"

Amora's Place liked "Deliverance" - thanks, Amora. :)

Review link here.

I'll try and get my 500 words in today and then call it an early night. (Because the last two weren't.) I've never been good at dealing with too little sleep. It's my way of getting hung over - working too hard, sleeping too little. I assume the traditional way is more fun. :)

I've read one of my source accounts for "Iron Cross" on the train today, so I feel a bit better about my research pile. Right now, pure fantasy is the way to go. I need to build up a critical mass of ideas and "energy" (for want of a better word) for Iron Cross. I'm not quite there yet. And Scorpion has been coming together beautifully.

I'm turning into my professor

I'm turning into my professor - the famous professor H. I once helped the man move... I didn't actually carry anything. My whole job was to sort the books by "period" and "theme" (or sub-theme of history, such as religion, warfare, mentality, nobility). It took me a whole day, long into the night. While I did that, I noticed that he owned one book (Montaillou - a book on an inquisitorial investigation in southern France during the late Middle Ages) FIVE times. Three hardcovers and a couple paperbacks.

I pointed at them, as they sat there, lined up on the shelf and asked him "why?"

He said that one had been a gift, one was owned by his wife, he bought the other one since he'd forgotten he owned the book, and the fourth was bought when he couldn't find it.

Yesterday, I bought a book because I couldn't find an absolutely crucial bit of information on German horsebreeding in WWII. Very soon, I'll enter the stage where I forgot I owned stuff (when I moved house, I already found two duplicate books - one pair on creative writing, the other pair on the history of Islam - so we're not far off).

I do wonder if ebooks are the solution to that. After all, it should be easier to organize them. Especially when the vendor keeps a copy on the shelf.

But now I'm eagerly awaiting the delivery of my horse book. And once it shows up at my door - I'll just pretend all this didn't happen and either give the second copy away as a gift (my professor gave me one of his five copies after a thoughtful moment and a "guess I really don't need FIVE."), donate them or sell them on.

Old age will be fun.

12k and countıng

Rıght, I'm wrıtten out for the scorpıon project at 12k. It has stopped pourıng out and ıs now only trıcklıng. Fırst rush ıs over. I thınk that brıngs the total up to anywhere between 17 and 20k, and I'm not done yet.

It has cooled down somewhat - the cloud are hangıng low over the Babadag mountaıns, mountaıns that make part of me ımagıne crusaders tryıng to get theır carts and horses across. It's a great lıttle place, but I'll never come here agaın ıst June, July or August. I would have lıked to be more actıve and see Ephesus and go to Fetıyeh market. Well, at least I got lots of stuff read and wrıtten...and I slept loads.

Plenty of thıngs pılıng up ın my ınbox. Edıts, emaıls that need a bıt more focus and tıme than I have rıght now. And yeah, Germany's playıng England on Sunday. Let's say, I wouldn't mınd the 'tradıtıon' to be upheld... the 'new' Germany plays pretty good football, and I'd wager England would have struggled agaınst Ghana a lot, too.

Leavıng here tomorrow at 18:30 for one of the more unpleasant aırports I've used ın my lıfe. Dalaman ıs pretty rıdıculous when you try to eat somethıng there, and last tıme our flıght was late and they sent us all over the place but not where we were supposed to be. Dıdn't matter, by the tıme the plane left well late, we were too exhausted to mınd.

Wıll lıkely spend the rest of the day doıng some research for 'Iron Cross'.

Muse on Holiday

My muses are gone - I guess they are entitled to some holidays. I don't want to get in trouble with the Union of Writers' Muses, after all.

But in all seriousness - the part of my brain that cooks up scenes and plots and characters is 100% engaged in the House Project. Plotting the move, what to buy, when to get it delivered, and what work to do first.

The little Moleskine cahiers I use to plot I'm currently using to keep track of dates and mutual dependencies. A house move is really a logic test, a piece of project management, and since my partner's useless at that kind of thinking, I'm doing it pretty much all. Doesn't mean I'm not presenting the plan to him so he can nod and feel included in the planning, but the gritty work seems to be largely on my shoulders.

Which is cool, that way at least I can moderately relax about things. If any Bond villain had my approach to stuff - to get it done right, I have to supervise closely or do it myself - the James Bond series would have ended after the first book because I would have killed James Bond dead. Maybe I should apply for a villain role. Hmmm, jackboots.

Been invited to contribute to a new m/m review blog, which might be a good outlet for my non-historical reading. For the moment I gave them my stories for reviews.

That said, on the way into London this morning, I had vivid images from "Iron Cross". Richard is so polite when he walks into my thoughts. I had this distinct feeling of "I really don't want to disturb you, but it seems you are a little idle, so I'm taking this opportunity" feeling from him. David is very different from that, he'd just demand my attention, NOW.

Those images can feel like memories, also because it's hard to change them. I can put my mind of idle and ask them "what are you doing next?" and sometimes they just tell me - there's that "voice" thing. Then there's the "film", which I struggle to sustain for longer than a few minutes. Scenes that are already "fixed" are like memories. Sometimes, characters talking about their plans have a decided "documentary" feel about them, or they are like actors in full gear and make-up and quite reasonably talking, "out of character" while also as actors already semi-playing that part. It's a little strange at times.

But how much do I love Richard. I never meant for him to rub shoulders with bastards like Erich Koch or have an uneasy underling-superior relationship with Albert Speer. (Now I want to read Speer's biography to get him right for those two scenes I'll likely have to write).

When I get home from work, I'll have to do a little more clean-up, since we already have viewings for the flat. Our landlord's not losing even one minute. We only cancelled the flat on Thursday!

(Note: No news from Sock Boy... he might have decided to stay out of my hair since I'm leaving. Not that I'm not rubbing that in every day. I do have a countdown LARGE AND VISIBLE on my desk, after all, and am generally perversely upbeat for all the work we're doing. I don't care - rats and sinking ships, I guess).