Tag: A Drum Is Empty

Ididdit

Published. On Smashwords.Yes, I did.

A Drum Is Empty is finally available to readers who have already waited too long. I also uploaded two short stories as freebies. You might say I celebrated Mother’s Day by giving birth to a litter of literature.

It was a day’s work. First, I had to make sure the manuscripts were formatted correctly. I was a good girl, I read the Smashwords style book. Then I slapped Word around for a while. Did Drum more than once from scratch to ensure clean formatting. Then there was the cover art.

I had taken some time previously developing the Drum cover. It only needed a couple of minor tweaks to be ready to go. The other two were hastily cobbled on the spur of the moment. I had to get up and take a photo of my hand for Grandmothers. By the time I got around to Tiwa’s tale, I was running out of steam. Obviously. Thank goodness for The GIMP in all cases.

Anyhoo, the “Meatgrinder” had no trouble digesting my perfect docs. I uploaded the short stories first, to get the hang of it. Then the Big One. It was fun to watch the process, the page refreshing over and over. Nothing like chocolate or sex, but a bit of a thrill for that first time. Yeehah, I had ebooks.

ADIE-cover

grandmothers

Kewarratiwa's Story

I had never intended to publish Kewarratiwa’s Story when I wrote it, but on looking it over one more time after a long hibernation period, I decided that it hung together well enough. I needed to read it again anyway. Tiwa is still a problem character, but I am coming to understand her better.

So…why Smashwords? Because I like how they do things. Because I loathe DRM. Because I could. I did it, and it feels good.

One thing that surprised me was how many times the short stories were downloaded in the first 24 hours. Not too many nibbles on the novel yet (and no sales), but I think I dropped my line into good fishing waters.

At least I finally got my bait good and wet 😉

Wha’s Happenin’?

I know, I’m a lousy blogger.

Wottever.

The bad news:

Cops are on my back about yard maintenance. It got a bit shaggy after several years of ill-health caused mostly by lack of vitamins — caused by lack of money, caused by lack of job, etc. Also, there were various artifacts left by my grandfather, etc. etc.. So now that I’m halfway back on my feet, the city wants to knock me down again.

My extraordinary efforts to clean up have been seen as doing nothing. IMO I didn’t work on the front enough first. Fuck it, enough about that.

The good news:

SilentBob and I are enjoying a perpetually extended honeymoon. With drive space such as I would never have dreamed about back in 2001, I indulge my every whim, and my dear Bobster takes it all in stride. This poor computer now bears the burden of six installed operating systems and one virtual. My curiosity knows no bounds, and I am (almost) fearless.

We are into all sorts of graphics, sound, and video foolings-around.

On top of that mess, a laptop has joined the working crew. BitChunker, an “experienced” IBM Thinkpad, only has three OSes; Windows XP, Backtrack, and Slax. Bitsy’s job is info support for making house-calls, and wireless testing. The hard drive is a little weenie, no room for a lot of fun.

Oh, you thought this blog was supposed to be about writing and artsy stuff?

Well…I’m nine chapters into one novel, four into another, and A Drum Is Empty is suffering One. More. Edit.

Really-truly, the longer you leave work sitting, the more you see that can be trimmed and modified.

Another ongoing distraction is the Firebird Project. A friend who has been wanting to celebrate the hundredth anniversary of Stravinsky’s Firebird ballet suite has roped me in. We are planning a presentation and discussion that will include a video of the ballet, a Powerpoint about the ballet and the legend, and a video using my music with fire photos and fractals. Part of the idea is to contrast the beginning of modern music with music and art of the computer age. Epic, daunting, but nearly two months to go yet.

fire demon

Miscellaneous:

I’m on a roll in Twitter. Clumps of followers. It’s not The Ahts, it’s the techness. And teh lolz. Only a third or so of recent new followers have been @-holes. I shitlist the @-holes, of course.

Hmm, I wonder what sort of spam this post will attract 🙂

Kind of how I feel sometimes

A short excerpt from Chapter 14 of A Drum Is Empty:

The long tassel of his hair, tied securely by Jesumi, flopped against his shoulders when he turned his head to gawk at his fine companions. It all seemed like a dream. Who was this newborn stranger inside his skin? Certainly not the bad-luck boy who had fled from the Bull band. Ratovin-scatovin, son of Nobody, was no longer. Nor was he the prancing child who made his mother laugh even longer ago. He had entered a third phase, with a future full of unforeseen promise.

Three is a magic number; he could not know what it might bring, but he was ready for any– Woh! He made a hopping recovery from a stumble. Ears hot, he paid more attention to the ground ahead of his feet.

Still at the query thing

Hard to believe the crappy nitpicks one can get. But one persists in the vain attempt to create an idiot-proof statement. I am playing with it again today. Read on, dear hypothetical agent:

Southern Poland in the late Ice Age: The People are not your stereotypical cavemen. With a rich oral tradition, technology refined by long use, art woven into every fiber of daily life, they see themselves as the crown of creation. They take pride in what they do and who they are. And they have a great sense of humor. Well, most of them do.

A few of them have more magic than they can handle.

Radovin’s bad luck has hit bottom. Only he, a despised apprentice shaman with few friends and no family, can expose two murderers. That he is bound to one of them by an oath sworn on his life, is yet another sign of his ill fortune. Avenging spirits will shred him merely for leaving his master, never mind betraying him.

His childhood dream of becoming a shaman may have withered in years of abuse and scorn, but Radovin’s not in a hurry to die. One other obstacle holds him back; he doesn’t know the people he needs to tell or even where they now live. An ominous dream, coinciding with another murder, shatters his inertia. The manslayers must be stopped, no matter what the cost. He flees toward the site of this year’s tribal gathering, where he hopes to contact relatives of the first two victims.

His arrival kicks the soup pot of tribal politics into the fire.

A 121,000 word fantasy, A Drum Is Empty should please lovers of the distant past as well as those who enjoy magical adventure.

Dear Agent,

Or…ayah-kayah. The most re-written pitch in Wisconsin is on the prowl, or will be soon. I say “in Wisconsin” to limit my liability for bullshitting.

Southern Poland in the late Ice Age: The People are not your stereotypical cavemen. With a rich oral tradition, technology refined by long use, art woven into every fiber of daily life, they see themselves as the crown of creation. They take pride in what they do and who they are. And they have a great sense of humor. Well, most of them do.

Some of them also have magic.

Radovin’s bad luck has hit bottom. Only he, a despised apprentice shaman with few friends and no family, can expose two murderers. That he is bound to one of them by an oath sworn on his life, is yet another sign of his ill fortune. Avenging spirits will shred him merely for leaving his master, never mind betraying him.

His childhood dream of becoming a shaman may have withered in years of abuse and scorn, but Radovin’s not in a hurry to die. And, although the evildoers must be stopped, he doesn’t know the people he needs to tell or even where they now live. An ominous dream, coinciding with another murder, shatters his inertia. He flees toward the site of this year’s tribal gathering, where he hopes to make contact.

When he does, all heck breaks loose.

A 120,000 word fantasy, A Drum Is Empty should please lovers of the distant past as well as those who enjoy magical adventure.

I’m planning another drum, BTW. A floor drum, eight inches wide and maybe twenty tall. It will be a new adventure in frame building. Just bending the cardboard is a challenge. Narrow strips are easy; I pull them over my thumb to give an even curve. Because of the size, and because heating season is nearly over, this one will also take longer to build up. And be a pain in the butt while it is stting around in the way drying!