What I Meant to Write
Today I discovered that my local library has every last Dune prequel and sequel but not The Left Hand of Darkness
or The Dispossessed
. I plan to sit down with a stack of purchase request cards and leaf through the Hugo and Nebula lists (at the very least) tomorrow. (They do have all the O. Henry Prize anthologies
back to the 1950's.) Inconsistency is a strange thing to meet at a library: it's unexpected.
I also wrote a five page ... something. It may be the start of a short story, it may be part of a novel (just not one of the ones I have written, already.) When I write something I keep it: it usually turns into something. I've had whole novels come from a few pages of "What is this? I can't use this for anything." I've learned patience: being quiet and waiting, pen in hand, gets better results than jumping up and insisting on something obviously useful in a prior work, salable on its own, or sensible by the rules of whatever branch of science I thought I was trying to work within. There is always time later to work on those three points, first I must have something to revise.
I spent part of the day running errands and the evening reading about the business of SF publishing. I already knew that there are more defunct science fiction magazines than current ones and I already knew that the market for short magazine fiction has shrunk over the past 100 years: I know I am up against the clever, the gripping, and the witty and I have little to offer but an emotion (never as stark as those produced by Poe's stories
.)I believe in what I am doing, however: the best science fiction stories I have read ends on a feeling (often unique), and I hold that no matter what we attribute their charms to, emotion has a lot to do with why these stories are classics.
I meant to spend this evening revising any of the dozen projects I have in progress but I spent it on new writing. The new novella I am working on (so far labeled "Inspired by 'The Ebony Frame'") may be trying to do something that is too difficult for me: first finish the novella, then read it over, then have it read, then draw conclusions. I can only try.
-Lisa Shapter
or The Dispossessed. I plan to sit down with a stack of purchase request cards and leaf through the Hugo and Nebula lists (at the very least) tomorrow. (They do have all the O. Henry Prize anthologies back to the 1950's.) Inconsistency is a strange thing to meet at a library: it's unexpected.I also wrote a five page ... something. It may be the start of a short story, it may be part of a novel (just not one of the ones I have written, already.) When I write something I keep it: it usually turns into something. I've had whole novels come from a few pages of "What is this? I can't use this for anything." I've learned patience: being quiet and waiting, pen in hand, gets better results than jumping up and insisting on something obviously useful in a prior work, salable on its own, or sensible by the rules of whatever branch of science I thought I was trying to work within. There is always time later to work on those three points, first I must have something to revise.
I spent part of the day running errands and the evening reading about the business of SF publishing. I already knew that there are more defunct science fiction magazines than current ones and I already knew that the market for short magazine fiction has shrunk over the past 100 years: I know I am up against the clever, the gripping, and the witty and I have little to offer but an emotion (never as stark as those produced by Poe's stories
.)I believe in what I am doing, however: the best science fiction stories I have read ends on a feeling (often unique), and I hold that no matter what we attribute their charms to, emotion has a lot to do with why these stories are classics.I meant to spend this evening revising any of the dozen projects I have in progress but I spent it on new writing. The new novella I am working on (so far labeled "Inspired by 'The Ebony Frame'") may be trying to do something that is too difficult for me: first finish the novella, then read it over, then have it read, then draw conclusions. I can only try.
-Lisa Shapter
Posted by Lisa Shapter at 7/22/2010 11:10 PM 
Categories: Science Fiction, O Henry Prize, Process, Method, Writing, Libraries, Publishing, E Nesbit, Hugo Award, Nebula Award, The Ebony Frame
Tags: Nebula Award Science Fiction O Henry Prize Method Writing Libraries Publishing E Nesbit Hugo Award Process The Ebony Frame
Categories: Science Fiction, O Henry Prize, Process, Method, Writing, Libraries, Publishing, E Nesbit, Hugo Award, Nebula Award, The Ebony Frame
Tags: Nebula Award Science Fiction O Henry Prize Method Writing Libraries Publishing E Nesbit Hugo Award Process The Ebony Frame
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