Evolution Volume 2! Yippee!

Well, what do you know? I've evolved.

Kind of. my story, 'The Drying,' is in the new release from Evolved Publishing. Yes, Evolution: Volume 2 releases today! Now is the time to squeal excitedly.

And just look at that cover? It just ribbits 'Buy me! Buy me!"

Table of Contents:
Sixteen Down by Brian Panowich
The Million Dollar Club by David Ballard
Tunnel Vision by Lane Diamond
The Drying by Voss Foster
The Living by Ranee Dillon
Walk Knock by Conda V. Douglas
Ursus Americanus by John Anthony Allen
Beneath the Skin by Ioana Visan
En Plein Air by Erin Ryan
Behind Family Lines by Stevie Mikayne

There are some great authors in here, and some great stories (and did I mention that beautiful cover yet?). I know you're just chomping at the bit to buy it: I'm here to help. You can go through Amazon, Smashwords, and BookieJar, with Kobo, iBooks, and Barnes and Noble editions coming soon.

If you want a taste of the book, both Smashwords and BookieJar offer the first 30% free. Cue celebratory balloons!

I'm going to go finish evolving, now. I'm hoping for poisonous skin, like a dart frog. Plus I'd look so pretty in that shade of blue.

Voss

Relish

How do you take your hot dogs? Mustard, ketchup, sauerkraut, jalapenos...? Sure, a hot dog is sufficient--it's still food (or something close enough to food to pass), it will still fill you up, but without the relish, the barbecue sauce, or the aioli (what, it could happen), it's just a tube of leftover meat.

The same thing with writing. Lately, there's been an outpouring against the delightful condiments of literature. Everyone says cut, trim, destroy, burn--anything to make it tighter and more concise. And, in theory, it's a good idea.

Not exactly in practice, I think. Tight is good. Fluff-free is food. The conservation of words is a fantastic concept that I fully support. But what's Harry Potter without wizard's chess? Or Pendragon without spinney-riding? Star Wars without R2D2 and C3PO?

The little things are important. Not just to show off little bits of your world, but to give your readers something to latch onto. Let's face it--humans like sparkly things. It's why we have tinsel. It's that same thing that makes us try and figure out what's shining the weird little light on the ceiling. Give your literature some sparkle. Games, sports, food, fashion--it's all good.

And there's no reason it can't be meaningful sparkle. Take The Hunger Games. The couture in The Capitol is opulent to the point of disgust. It tells you about the nature of The Capitol. And it's shiny (often literally). Or Quidditch in Harry Potter--it's used to advance the plot or establish character...all right, sometimes it's just fun.

But when did fun lose it's place in literature, especially in science fiction and fantasy? Who passed down the law that decreed we all have to be miserable? Give it a thought.

Voss

YOU are Not For Sale

Lately, I've been looking at eHouses. Trying to muddle through everything else before I self-publish a novella. Especially last night, I dived in and started digging through everything I could find, and always, always checking them against Absolute Write Water Cooler and Piers Anthony's Publisher Reviews. A Google search never hurt, either. If a house is bad business-wise, there are a ton of resources to find that out. Aside from the internet, talk to your network of writers, see if anyone has worked with them or knows someone that worked with them.

But, what if the business is fine, but something about them is wrong? I've now run across three (maybe more) ultra-Christian presses. Only one of them doesn't bother me. I won't name any names either way, but the two that really grind on my nerves have something in common: we don't see eye to eye. They have restrictions on content, which is fine. Every house has restrictions on content. But these houses both say that they will immediately reject anything that contains a GLBTQ character (I added the Q to make them seem more worldly--they didn't have it there, didn't even acknowledge the queer/questioning part of the milieu). One of them takes it a step further: they won't take anything anti-Christian or unpatriotic.

I'm not saying they aren't allowed to do that. In fact, I don't have a terribly huge problem with the first one at all--they have to sell to their audience, and they're audience doesn't do GLBT(Q). It's that second one that grates on me the most. If they would have said 'no religious discrimination' or forbid works that portrayed any country as the world's ultimate evil, I would be on board.

But they didn't. If somebody were to submit a well-written work where French pagans were the ultimate evil, nothing in their guidelines says anything about not accepting that.

Your work is what you're selling, not your soul. I will not submit to a house like that. To me, when I see them forbidding anti-Christian works, or GLBT(Q) works, or unpatriotic works, I start to flash on all the great bigots of history: the Inquisitors in Spain, the slave-owners in early America, the people that ship GLBTQ kids to camps where they can be 'fixed.' And, to me, that's a no-no.

Whatever your button is, whatever makes you feel like that, if you see it in guidelines (or anywhere, really), stay away. I can promise you, whatever they're offering is not worth it. It's not worth you. It's not worth that little bit of your soul.

Stepping off the soapbox,
Voss

The Bludgeon or the Rack?

I'm sitting here, watching The Golden Girls. It's one of the episodes that's hardest to watch--you find out that Rose (for those that don't know, Rose is a Minnesota farm-girl, totally innocent and a huge sweetheart) has been taking prescription painkillers for thirty years.

It's painful to watch, because everyone loves Rose, and it just comes as a shocker when you find out she's been taking these drugs. Aside from the fact that such a heavy issue has been dropped on the sweetest, kindest character of the entire series, it makes you re-evaluate her entire character: is that why she's been so happy this whole time?

That's perfectly pointed torture to a 'T,' and it's incredibly useful. Take a look at another example: Severus Snape from the Harry Potter series. He loved--true, deep, everlasting love--Lily. but, when all's said and done, she marries James Potter, the one man he can't stand, his personal tormentor fro, his school days. Fast forward a few years and they have a son. Then they die. Their son, when he grows up, looks exactly like James, except for Lily's eyes. He's also under constant threat of death from a horrible, dark wizard. When it comes down to it, their son is thrust into Snape's life. He's torn between hating what of James is in Harry and his love for Lily, and thus her son.

Torture: as far as writers are concerned, torture is a good thing. Room 101 is even better. Find the one specific torture that will break your character, that will infiltrate every second of his or her life, and pile it on. Thick. As my high school band director would say, use more peanut butter. Of course, we're talking more like cyanide butter, but the metaphor still stands.

Off to go oil the iron maiden,
Voss

Fan Fiction: Not the Devil

"What's that?" you say, eyes aflame. "Are you promoting non-canon uses of others' works with no potential for profit involved?"

Yes.

And no.

In spirit, and often in practice, there is absolutely nothing wrong with fan fiction. Nothing. Don't give me that look. Fan fiction is, without digging any deeper than the very surface, a great vessel for learning some of the finer points:consistent character voices, plot that adheres to the worldbuilding, voice. Things we need to develop as writers, if we wish to work in any sort of professional sense.

Now let's go one level deeper. I bet you can tell where I'm going: companion novels. The Star Wars expanded universe, Star Trek novels and stories, the Myst books--they're all fan fiction, and don't try to tell me they aren't. Here's the difference: they're able to be sold, and are (normally) considered a part of the canon. It's like the difference between a patented design and the same design without the fancy stamp. but, for whatever reason, that stamp makes people assume that this thing is okay, whereas anything without the stamp is pure crap.

One level deeper. The first year I went to SpoCon, I went to a panel. I have no idea what it was actually about anymore, but at some point the subject of mythology came up. All the panelists espoused what a great source of stories. And they are completely right. Then, maybe ten minutes later, the subject of fan fiction came up. Two of the three panelists, intelligent people, immediately called out fan fiction as wrong, since you weren't pulling the story from your own mind, but rather from an outside source.

The other panelist poked up her head and pointed out that taking material from mythology is the same exact principle. Those two nay-sayers shut up about the subject. That's the third level, here: nothing is new.

So, in less than polite terms, everyone needs to pull the stick out and realize that fan fiction isn't evil. It's actually quite good and, as much as anyone might wish to deny it, not that uncommon, when you start thinking about myth and legend.

Voss

Plumbing the Cultural Depths

As writers, we play God (or Goddess, as it were). It's in the job description. We play God(dess) and, if we want to write a good story, we often have to flex our divine muscles to change probability to something a little more interesting. In speculative fiction in particular, we're divine--we have created a world.

Hot damn.

But, there's something worth remembering amidst all of that worldbuilding we lovingly do: you have to follow every thread out to the very end, at least as it applies to the elements you're dealing with in your book.

I'll give you a recent example form my own work. I'm currently worldbuilding (mostly culture building, at this point). The culture is designed to deter prejudice and dishonesty: everyone wears full body veils, covering everything but the eyes, and rings that signify socioeconomic standing, profession, marriage status, and number of children. You can't lift the veil in public.

Here's the issue: I'm writing a very strong romance thread in this book. So I had to go in up to my elbows and figure out a new system for public displays of affection. Then I cam to the realization that I had no way for unmarried couples to eat or drink in public, since they would have to lift the veil off of their face and risk showing themselves. So I had to design new chairs.

These were all issues that came up because of one relationship. Between two characters. Lord only knows what else I'll find before I get to the writing stage.

When you write a totally invented culture, it's necessary to think it all the way through. Even the smallest difference between their culture and ours can cause huge ripples, and you don't want to ignore them. Somewhere along the way, someone will go to the fridge and, while looking for a beer, figure out that something in your book doesn't make sense. Okay, maybe it's not a sure thing, but are you willing to take the risk?

Embedding myself in culture,
Voss

News!

It's been so long since I've been able to make a regular posting. My blog feels so out of sorts, like a long-lost friend that moved to Slovakia, then came back for a visit. But, with my jump into the world of high-speed Internet, I can return to you in full, glorious, fabulous force. And I will.

Starting with this. I, just yesterday, received my fully signed and completed contract from Evolved Publishing for their upcoming anthology, Evolution Volume 2 (slated for release in mid-August). I was one of six authors chosen outside of Evolved Publishing's author stable, and that's always fun.

And, in more fantastic news, Hall Brothers Entertainment has finalized the files on Wandering Weeds: Tales of Rabid Vegetation, a fantastic little antho about evil tumbleweeds.

Good news, yes?

Voss