Release date - and a photo

The Phoenix - K. W. 2011

I thought my Phoenix would add a sufficiently glorious touch to the announcement of Black Carnival's release date, 30th of December.

Stay tuned!





Portrait of Laz'law... almost

"The dark, dark look" - K.W.  2011

There is a curious theory among some watercolourists that true black does not exist in nature and that therefore it is a mistake to use black in painting. While I was never very convinced by this theory (apart from anything else the existence of black pigments seems to me sufficient proof of the existence of the colour!) I was curious to see how dark you could go in watercolour without using true black.

This is my study in darkness, and it turned out a deal darker than I expected (or wished), in every way.

I do feel sometimes that I have only the barest control on my charachters, in writing and painting alike; I am not sure whether that is good or bad. (Laz'law is one of the main charachters in Black Carnival, and my personal favourite)

I am indebted to Flondo for the original photo this was copied from, and even for the edit of the photograph of the painting... what would I do without him?

http://www.zazzle.com/flondo+gifts

Edits

Just finished the first edits on Black Carnival, and after a few clarifications among all parts involved on how to proceed, it seems to me that all went nice and smooth, not to mention tolerably painless. But then having broken both bones in my right arm without shedding a single tear, I may just have higher pain tolerance than generally supposed.

I realized while editing BC that the big edits, those that affect the structure of the novel, are a lot easier to accept than small things like the removal of a "fancy" speech tag. Maybe it's because the plot is done with the brain but the voice of the charachters in certain scenes is something that very much belongs into the guts and instinct of my writing self. Anyway. Evernight allowed me to save some of my fancy tag, for which I will be forever grateful. When Stacey's ok-mail came I went running through my horse's pasture waving my arms and singing "whispered, whispered, whispered!". The neighbours (and my horse) probably thought that I was insane. My husband, who knows me well, and bears all my rants with stoical fortitude, watched me for a while and then just asked: "Tags?"

Most of chapter 3 went out of the window, unregretted. It will surely reincarnate as a short story. The ending is more clearly happy, although some tears still flow. The heroine whines much less (even when gagged). The hero behaves and makes the necessary promise. Good boy. What days we live in, if it takes an editor to make heros behave!

Curiously enough, while trying to explain his aloof behaviour, a more obvious bond emerged between this book and its sequel, althought the story still stands alone.

In the meantime stories bubble up in my brain, some darker, some less. There are the Prequels to Black Carnival,  a collection of short stories about the main charachters in the book. And of course White Sands, the sequel, which grows a bit, stops, grows a bit more, and stops again (mostly for lack of a convincing villain). There is the growing shadow of a Naughty Fairy Tale. Poems come and go, scattering stardust over all.
I am a slow writer and a hopeless pantser, which means that all these stories are stewing my brain to mush. But at least  I entertain myself cheaply.

I am also doing a very minimal amount of reading. The bad thing about writing is that it makes it nearly impossible to read (at least for me). I am slowly enjoying Adonis Devereaux's Worth his Freedom, and the quite different Bound to be Free, mentioned in my last post. And occasionally I just need to "go home", and then sort out something by O'Brian, or Tolkien.

Serious research

"... introductions began with an attractive young woman who said, "My name is Tracy and I'm into heavy pain, heavy humiliation, and I belong to John." The next woman, a pretty blonde, said, "My name is Gilda; I'm into heavy pain, heavy humiliation, and I belong to John." The next speaker was a short, middle-aged, bald black man who said, with a big smile: "I'm John." "

Charles Moser, Bound to be Free.

And while scribbling on in the New Book I came to wonder, what do guys wear when they ride, I mean I can wear anything, but then, I don't have balls... so after a bit of research I came across this funny thread where a fourteen years old boy had nearly gelded himself on the saddle when his horse unexpectedly went off at a canter. Various experienced riders suggested a jock strap or somewhat tight briefs to hold the package close to home, but concluded saying that in the end he'd have to stuff an hand down his pants occasionally to pull the good up. To which the young nearly-eunuch replied somewhat shocked, "I can't stuff a hand in my pants, my mom and girlfriend always come to see me riding!".

I don't know, but I never giggled so much while writing children books.

Baby Blues

"Sunrise" (unfinished) - K.W. 2006

"All of a sudden, with the perfect clarity provided by half a bottle of Chianti, I can appreciate the whole anatomy of my loneliness. I finished my painting and I feel lost, empty. An orphan.

While I was painting it, every brush stroke had a story, every highlight, every shadow had a complicated but familiar identity... now, even now, and I finished the painting only this morning, everything is lost, confused in the harmonious whole of the finished picture, and everything looks farther away, colder, and I am immensely alone, separate, away from his skin and his life, on the wrong side of the frame... until this morning, I was there with him, in the painting, and without me, he would not have lived, all the shadows, all the highlights, all his destiny was in my hands, without me, he would have never lived, the painting breathed my breath, if I had died yesterday it would have died with me, if I died now, the painting would remain... our lives are not bound anymore.

I finished "Sharp Edge" and lost it.

I finished "Sharp Edge" and I will never LIVE it again.

I finished "Sharp Edge" and I am alone, alone, alone."

(From my journal, 2005)

I always have a terrific bout of depression whenever I finish any really heartfelt creative project, and I still have not quite recovered from finishing my last story ("Head-shy").

I feel as if my characters kicked me out of their world, ok, thank you, we don't need you anymore now, go play somewhere else. Assholes.

Dreamweaver

"Dreamweaver", K.W. 2011

"He does not need opium. He has the gift of reverie." ~Anais Nin

Book title giggles

So, off I go to the Kindle store  to see if I can download "Bound to be free: SM experience", and what I find is "Bound to be Free: Evangelical Catholic Engagements in Ecclesiology, Ethics and Ecumenism"  (the second book is by far the most recent)... oh Lord, lmao!!

I wonder if the author of this thing ever bothered to google his chosen title before publishing or if he just found himself on the same Amazon page with the-really-naughty gang by surprise.