All-righty then! Just finished up tweaking the first draft of the novelette that Jay Lake and I just wrote, "The Witches of Killaster!!"

It was a lot of fun, and a really good challenge for me, and I think with another round or two of polishing we are going to have one kick-ass weird fantasy tale to throw at unsuspecting editors.

An interesting follow-up story about last night's chat with author Michael Swanwick: I asked him about collaborations, and how he and his many collaborators, including William Gibson and Gardner Dozois, managed in the days before the Internet.

He said there were a couple different versions. One was the "hot typewriter" (I think that's what he called it) method, which usually required a hotel room for the weekend, a typewriter, alcohol, and as Swanwick added, "usually a whore was involved, so you had something to do while the other guy typed." (You gotta love those crazy baby boomers!!!) Anyway, one writer would write until he got stuck, then wake the other guy and put that writer to work on the story. By the end of the weekend, they'd have a story.

Okay, so I wasn't real crazy about that method, though it is FAST.

The other method was what he used with Gibson and most other collaborators -- he'd write a chunk of a story, send it off, and the other writer had a month to do ANYTHING to a story, changing whatever he wanted -- a character's sex, the plot, etc. -- and then at the end of the month he'd mail it back, and the other writer had a month to do anything to the story. He said he and Gibson went back and forth over a flourescent T-shirt the protag wore -- Swanwick would put it on the character every time, and Gibson would remove it each time.

That method would take WAY too much time. I like the Flaming Rodent method. But of course, we didn't get around to talking 'bout that. It was getting late, and I didn't feel like talking about myself -- I was there to learn, you know? I usually act like an interviewer at these things, trying to pull all the information out of the expert without being too annoying. Swanwick cooperated wonderfully. :)

Now Playing:
"Yield," Pearl Jam

Now Reading:
Endless Nights, Neil Gaiman;
Slow Dancing Through Time, Gardner Dozois and collaborators

Stories out to Publishers:
16

Today (and Yesterday's) Words:
1,000

Words for '03:
121,000

Today's Quote:
Falloe stared at the dagger and the wind rushing at his face, unblinking. A green flash flickered in his eye as he simply plucked the knife from the air with his left hand. He appraised the weapon for a moment, as if admiring its lines and weight, then he tossed it over his shoulder like a simpleton warding off spirits with a handful of salt. Sin glimmered and spun in the air as it rose. When my dagger hit the sky steel tower it made no noise other than a small sucking sound as it was absorbed into the wall. The tower seemed to grow another yard in height as I stared up, dumbstruck.

"Soon enough you may tell her everything," Falloe said, as if he and Rego were conversing in a courtyard, over mulled wine, without any interruptions. "But first," he continued, still unhurried, "we'll need her other blade."