Scribbles & Munch

      Everyone who celebrates Halloween has their own way to seek out a good scare.  Some people like to go on zombie tours or haunted houses.  Other people like to search for real ghosts.  Some people seek out terror on the screen or in the pages of a good book.  Others like their spookiness mingled with a few good chuckles.
      And then there are some people who think Halloween is really meant just for kids.

This totally says "kid friendly" to me.

      Who are these people, and what is wrong with them?  Kids don't need holidays to play dress up or eat sugar!  And did you miss that part where monsters, murderers, vermin, and dead people are involved!?!
      Anyway, for me it's Gothic Horror, all the way.  Give me the dreary antiquity, the gloomy and forlorn, the doomed beauty and the unavenged wrongs.  Give me ghosts who want more than gore.  Give me settings as gorgeous as they are petrifying.

Conan Doyle's "Hound of the Baskervilles" is a good one.  Actually, it may have been my first...I watched a lot of Jeremy Brett as Sherlock Holmes growing up.

      Perfect example?  Just got back from watching Del Toro's Crimson Peak with my girl Camela Thompson.  This is my second time seeing the movie.  And I freaking love that movie.
      If you haven't seen it, then guess what?  Tomorrow is Halloween!  You have the perfect excuse!  It's got everything Guillermo del Toro does best: jaw-dropping sets, tantalizing plot, vibrant characters, and that exquisitely perfect mix of heart-rending beauty and truly shocking violence.  Why shocking?  Because he uses it just right.  Del Toro uses violence the way Hitchcock used suspense: just the right amount, at the right time, in the right way to really take your breath away.  I've seen hard-core slasher movie fans flinch and gasp at some of the key moments in Pan's Labyrinth.*

      The sad thing is how easy it is to make gothic horror cheesy, or over dramatic.  When it's done well, it's just so terrifyingly yummy.  When it's done badly, it's like opening a bottle of expensive wine, only to find it's gone to vinegar.  It'll probably be too damn long before another great gothic horror film comes out.  So I'll just rely on books.
      Or better yet, write one myself.


*If you've seen it, you know exactly what I'm talking about.  If you haven't seen it...*sigh*  Just...go watch it.  You'll thank me.

      So you may be wondering why I haven't updated in awhile.*  The answer is both a good thing, and a bad thing.  And an... amusing ...thing ...I guess.
      Simply put, I've been bit by a writing bug.  I got an idea for a story right after Geek Girl Con, started writing it down, and I'm just still going.  I sit down to my laptop every morning at breakfast (I'm eating oatmeal with bananas as I type this) and I think, "I need to update my blog, and I need to copy over that recipe, and I need to reply to these emails. But...this story isn't going to write itself!!!"  And I open my Word document and it just keeps freakin' flowing.  Each time there's this expectation that I'm going to hit a wall and nothing more will come of it, but that hasn't happened yet.  In fact, I leave each morning for work feeling mildly frustrated because I wanted to keep going.
      Obviously this is good because a) I'm writing, and b) I'm enjoying the hell out of myself.  But this is bad, too, because I'm neglecting other duties.  Case in point: this update isn't going to have any images, because I'm not going to take a moment longer on this than necessary.  I want to get back to my story.
      This happened to me once before, about three years ago, when I was inspired by a Halloween night storm to write a ghost story.  (Actually, there are some similarities in the two tales, now that I think about it: both take place in an old mansion, and both involve some supernatural mystery.  And that's all I'm going to tell you.)  It seems that Fall is just an inspiring time for me.  I feel like my Muse didn't want to wait for NaNoWriMo, and jumped the gun a month early; I checked my document the other day and in three weeks I've already written 20,065 words.
      So the amusing thing?  Part of the reason this is going so well is that I have zero intention of trying to publish this story.  I'm just writing it for me.  And maybe a couple of the right friends.  That's because it's not a good story, it's not a powerful story, and it's not a meaningful story: it's just a downright entertaining story for the right kind of audience.**  And I DO NOT want my first published work(s) to be that kind of fluff.  But at this point in my life, publication is a dream, and writing is - happily - a reward in itself.
        So if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get back to the fun stuff.  Check back next week: once I have sufficiently scratched this itch, I've got a Con summary, some movie reviews, and a fabulous Spanish vegetable soup recipe to share with you.  Happy Halloween!



*Because apparently, you're really, really bored.

**Let your imagination fill in the gaps.  You're probably not that far off base.

      Geek Girl Con is this weekend!  If you live in the Seattle area, and you're a geeky girl, your attendance is required, lest you lose your hard-earned geek cred.  And geek cred can be hard to come by as a female: we're under-represented as serious players in the sciences, in sci-fi and fantasy genres,  in action comics and movies, and in video games.  There are a number of reasons for this, many of which are socio-political and/or historical.  But those are in the past.  It's time for Khaleesi to round up the dragons, for Samus to suit up, and for Black Widow to get her own movie.
      Seriously, Marvel: Black Widow needs her own freaking movie.

Or else.

      But I digress.
      If you're still making up your mind about attending, check out the line-up of panels and activities.  If that doesn't persuade you, go see a doctor, because I think you might have head trauma.  Yours truly will be co-hosting the panel "Brainy Anime Babes Who Know More Science Than You" on Saturday, at 1:30pm, along with horror/thriller novelist Camela Thompson.  We'll discuss women in the sciences through the lens of my favorite pop culture media.  Art emulates life, after all.
      Aside from the awesome panels, it's hard to know what I'm looking forward to the most.  The kick-ass cosplay?  The unbelievable merch!?  The games??!  Honestly, it's something far less tangible: the feeling of community.  The best thing about going to a Con is this overwhelming sense of "Holy $#!t, I've found my clan."  It gives us all a sense of belonging, and permission to let our freak flags fly!  And every geek - and every girl - can benefit from a shot of confidence.

See you there.

      I just looked at my calendar, and October 4th is National Taco Day.
      This year, it falls on a Tuesday.
      It is a federally sanctioned Taco Tuesday.  Life just got so, so awesome.

When I announced National Taco (Tues)Day to my Mom, she wanted to know which came first: "Taco Tuesday," or "The Lego Movie."  I couldn't tell her, and I'm too lazy to look it up.

      When I was growing up, tacos were made with ground beef cooked with a spice packet that probably contained more salt than the Atlantic Ocean.  It was then spooned into hard, yellow taco shells, sprinkled with shredded orange cheese, and popped in the oven until said cheese melted.  We ate this with jarred salsa and shredded ice burg lettuce.  And I absolutely loved it.*
      These days I eat two kinds of tacos: awesome gourmet tacos I get off the happy hour menus of restaurants I otherwise can't afford, and my own super-cheat tacos that probably have nothing to do with Mexico.  I'll lay out the recipe here (don't judge me).  Sorry there are no photos to go with, but my schedule doesn't allow for much whim-of-the-moment cooking these days, much less amateur food photography:

Z.D.'s I-Want-to-Make-Something-Like-a-Taco Recipe
serves 4

Ingredients:
2 Tablespoons Canola oil
1 yellow onion, finely chopped
1 bell pepper (you choose your color), finely chopped
1 to 2 chipotle chiles in adopo sauce, minced (for spicy tacos)
2 tsp dried oregano
kosher salt to taste
1/2 to 1 full Cup leftover steamed white rice (optional)**
1 can black beans, rinsed and drained
1/2 Cup water
1 lime, cut into quarters

Serve with:
fresh flour tortillas
fresh diced tomato
fresh sliced avocado
baby arugula and/or shredded cabbage
minced cilantro

Directions:
 - In a large non-stick pan, warm the oil over medium heat.  Add the onion and sauté until translucent. Increase the heat to medium-high and add the bell pepper, sauté just until the edges start to brown.

- Stir in the chipotle chiles, oregano, and salt.  Add in the rice and stir until fully incorporated and heated through, about 1 minute.  Stir in the beans and the water, bring to a boil.

 - Reduce to a low simmer and cook, uncovered and stirring occasionally, until flavors are melded and water has entirely evaporated.  Squeeze one quarter lime over mixture and stir.  Taste, adjust lime and other seasonings as desired.

 - Serve with gently warmed tortillas, remaining lime, and toppings

Something random.  You're welcome.

      If you're not down with spicy, you can substitute 2-4 tsp of ground cumin for the chipotle chiles.  If you want MORE spice, double (or even triple) the chipotle.  And of course you can serve with whatever toppings you want: salsa, guacamole, sour cream, cheese, diced green onion, toasted pepitas, hot sauce....  Not all of those are authentically Mexican, but then again, little about this recipe is authentic.  And I would be very, VERY surprised if Mexico had an National Taco Day.
      Or maybe I wouldn't.  A lot of awesome things come out of Mexico, and Latin America in general.
      If you're going to go out for tacos next Tuesday, I want to know where.  And if you're making your own, I want the recipe.  Gracias.




*Except for the salsa.  Even as a kid, I didn't care for jarred salsa.  If I eat it now, it has to be fresh, and preferably homemade.

**This is something I add to stretch the recipe, and to use up leftover rice when I'm all burnt out on fried rice.  If you omit the rice, halve the spices to start, then adjust the seasoning as you go.

      If you're a long-time reader of this blog, or if you know me personally, you are aware that Halloween is my favorite holiday.  I celebrate all October long!*  It's the epitome of so many of my favorite things: hanging out with friends, playing dress up, eating sweets, and telling scary stories.  That last one in particular is a weird one for me, because I'm also a total wimp who can't watch horror movies.

When I finally own my house, it will be decorated like this for Halloween.  Except cooler, with more spider webs & a fog machine & motion-activated bats.

      When I say I like a scary story, I mean I like a well-told tale that makes my spine go rigid.  I enjoy visions of splendid buildings fallen into decay.  I want the sound of wind moaning louder and louder, until you can no longer lie to yourself that it's just the wind.  I enjoy old tragedies that inspire regret beyond the grave, lingering like mist low to the ground.  I like the mystery of the unseen.

And nothing transports the imagination like a good book.

      My tradition the last few years has been to indulge in both a modern and a classic scary story during the month of October.  This year I was going to read House of Leaves, which has come to me highly recommended.  Based on what I know about it, however, I think it would frankly freak me the fuck out, and I can't read that before bed when I'm sleeping alone.  So it's being postponed one more year.  Instead, this year I plan to indulge in a non-fiction book entitled The Curve of Time.  Although not intended to be a scary story, there are apparently plenty of creepy, otherworldly encounters recorded in it's pages.  And since it a) takes place in my area, and b) is ostensibly a true story...yeah.  I think that might do the trick nicely.
      In terms of the classic, I'm debating between H. G. Wells' The Invisible Man, or the collected works of Edgar Allan Poe.  I've never read Wells.  Although not strictly a horror novel, I think it often gets grouped in the "scary story" genre because of the science-gone-wrong aspect.  Plus it preys on the inherent fear of being forgotten--literally "disappearing from the world."  But then again, Poe is classic, and creepy, and gloriously gothic.  I read his short stories in high school, but I think the language prevented me from absorbing as much as I could.  So is this the time to revisit?

I am so this kid.  Why do I do this to myself?

     I have a week yet to make up my mind.  I'm open to suggestions.  If you have a favorite scary story, I'd love to hear what makes your skin prickle, and leave the light on as you sleep.


*But not BEFORE October.  It drives me nuts that stores start putting out their Halloween merch in August.  I can't get in the creepy gothic mood when I'm still working my tan!

      If you are serious about being a published fiction writer, you've probably been given the following advice: write short stories.  Try to publish short stories.  Submit short stories to contests.  Agents/editors/publishers are more likely to read your novel manuscript if you've put out some short stories.
      I have no idea whether or not this advice holds water.  Partly because a) I've never read that many short stories, so I don't have a good sense of their popularity, and b) I suck at writing them.

It's funny, because it's true.

      I try.  I really, honestly try.  Every now and again I put out a burst of effort, and I think I may have completed two or three halfway decent stories.  More often, however, I either give up halfway through because THERE IS NO WAY that I will accomplish what I want in under 5000 words, or I do finished it, and realize it's not a short story at all: it's a scene from a novel.
      As I was writing this blog post, it occurred to me that I'm not even sure what qualifies as a short story, so I decided to look it up.  I read eleven different websites and each had a different definition.  Here are the definitions I trust the most:

Flash Fiction = 53 to 1,000 words*
Short Story = 3,500 to 7,500 words
Novelette = 7,500 to 17,000 words
Novella = 17,000 to 40,000 words
Novel = 40,000 words or more

      I was recently presented with an opportunity to write a short story on a very general theme, with almost a promise it would be published in an anthology.  It just so happened I already had an idea that might fit.  So I grabbed my notebook, bought a fruit smoothie, and headed to the lake to enjoy some late summer sunshine and let the creativity flow.  It worked.  My rough draft totaled at just under 6,000 words.  The characters, concept, and language felt pretty solid for a first draft.  I was very pleased with my creativity over-all.
      But...it's not a short story.
      Oh, the length is there, but there's no STORY!  It's a SCENE!  When I read it, I feel like a mildly interested voyeur into a somewhat bizarre, paranormal conversation.  But in terms of a beginning, middle, and end, it is weak sauce.  And I actually finished writing it, got in the shower, and banged my head against the wall in frustration.**

Shove it, Will, you bloody hypocrite.

      So I came up with the following theory: I think my problem is that I let my characters tell the story.  When I write a manuscript for a novel, I have ideas for challenges and circumstances, but then I sit back and let the characters I've created figure out what to do.  I just write down how they would react.  If they don't react the way I want, I either tweak their backstory or I change the impetus so they wind up where I want.  Example: let's say I want a character to burn down a cheese factory, but arson really isn't in keeping with their personality.  I could put a traumatic incident in their childhood involving Gruyere to alter their motivation.  Or, I could have a villain threaten the life of their grandmother if they don't torch the joint.
      But there isn't room for that kind of development in a short story!  With limited space, I just have to tell the reader "Hepzibah's PTSD was so severe, she blacked out at the smell of cheddar," and they just have to take my word for it.  Whereas I look at that sentence, and I think: something that good deserves a whole page--maybe a whole chapter!
      So...I'll never be a great writer.  The Greats always wrote short stories: Austen, London, Bradbury, LeGuin, etc.  Stephen King got his start with short stories.  Just thinking about it bums me out.  I think I'm going to made myself a grilled cheese sandwich and take a shower.  Not at the same time.



*And heaven forbid you should want to write something between 1,000 and 3,500 words, you non-conformist freak!

**Not too hard, though.  Just enough to get my point across.  I like my noggin safe and non-concussed.

      You may recall that I'm working on turning one of my manuscripts into a trilogy.  Because apparently I have a passion for re-arranging the deck chairs on sinking ships.  And I'm actually getting to the point where I'm not looking forward to sitting down and working on it every morning, because I'm stuck.
      I wouldn't say I have writer's block, exactly; when I find a spot to elaborate with another paragraph, or a scene I want to change just a touch, my fingers fly over the keyboard.  Words I got.  What I'm lacking is the foresight to figure out exactly what my character would do in this certain situation.
      Allow me to explain: turning my gas-lamp fantasy into a trilogy means I get to make it longer (fun)!  Specifically, I've got room to add another 30,000 words to the second volume.  Which means I get to add in a few little sub-plots, and flesh out some very minor characters so they're no longer just passing scenery.  It also means that now I get to tell the tale of what happened to one of my main characters between London and Cairo.*  Which should be interesting, because he's a character who does a lot of growing in this series.

The Suez Canal has a fascinating history.  I like taking things that have fascinating history in the real world and working them into fictional stories!

      But now my dilemma: I'm not exactly sure what he would do.
      Usually when I'm stuck in a situation like this, I walk around my house doing minor chores and talk to myself out loud.  I reason out what I know about the character's personality, and ply a few "what if" situations.  Almost invariably, within a 20 minutes or less, I have my answer.  It just clicks.  What's more, I get a little thrill of excitement and motivation as scenes appear inside my head, like watching a movie, and I can hardly wait to start transcribing the vision.**
      This time, nothing's clicking.  I can think of a number of scenarios, and it's not hard to figure out what my character would do, but none of them feels right.  And I am not - NOT - putting this much gods-damned effort into this bloody story just to wank out a sub-par sub-plot.

*snort*  Hemingway...what did he know about writing?  Bah!

      So...what do I do?  Write down a draft of all three possibilities, and see if one of them takes?  Table it and come back to it later?  Pick one and run with it?  Keep talking to myself until I come up with something better or the neighbors call the cops???  ARRGH!!!
     Ok, what would you do?



*Or rather, the equivalents thereof in my fictional universe.

**This is why I carry a little pocket chapbook wherever I go, so that I can stop and jot this stuff down if I'm not near my laptop.  Far too many excellent ideas have been lost by people not taking the time to write them down.  I've even pulled over on the freeway once or twice to do this....