T.M. Thomas

I've been on a family vacation for two weeks. I'll have something to say soon, although it's likely to be the usual blather.

String, Sealing Wax and Automated Missile Defense Systems
***
            “All systems go,” the quiet voice said through the earpiece tight in my left ear.

            “Calm down, doc,” Burge said with a little smile at me. “Your excitement is deafening.”

            “Keep it down, please,” the professor responded.

            Burge smiled again. He needled the professor. Burge was former Special Forces or something like it, although the round belly hanging over his belt sort of did away with some of the danger. As did the little mincing penguin walk. The professor swore by him, though, so he was leader. They’d worked together a long time, as Burge told it, although neither ever said much. Burge was the only one I’d ever heard use something other than “Professor” or “Doctor.”

          

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This morning, I was thinking about writing (but not actually writing) and somehow I accessed the memory of a Young Writers conference I attended as a kid. It was held at the local college and students (grades 7-9, maybe?) from the various schools in the area sent a student or two.

There are two main things I remember: the first memory is that the guest speaker, Bruce Coville, brought with him a banker's box full of manuscript drafts...for one recently published novel. It sort of blew my young teen brain that professionals didn't just sit and write a book. I think my English teacher, who I was sitting with me as a friendless nerd, was sort of surprised by the sheer volume of effort that went into it, as I remember her commenting something about her own lack of success selling poetry and the number of rejections she'd received.

That's the heartening memory. Professionals don't just sit and turn out a finished novel in a matter of days. It takes effort, sometimes over years. Funny how I learned that at 12 or 13 and still need reminders.

The other memory just makes me feel old and embarrassed. Turns out I hadn't prepared a writing sample to bring, as each Young Author (or whatever capitalized thing we were called) was supposed to bring one to be shared. When we broke into small groups, we received the work of our groupmates for reading and some discussion. Mine was, frankly, awful. Worse than awful. I handwrote it in ten or fifteen minutes, because this was before computers and we didn't have a typewriter either. My dad then had to drive me around until we found a place that made copies, because there wasn't such a thing as a Kinko's in our small town. We ended up at an auto mechanic with a copier, I think. What bugs me the most is making my dad go through all sort of parental contortions because I'm absentminded (to this day) but a close second is the missed opportunity. I doubt, looking at it objectively, that feedback of any sort back then would have kept me writing and helped me reach success at an early age. But there's still that blown opportunity and I'm the sort of person that obsesses about such things.

Once upon a time, Mark Henry gave me advice on fixing this story. If I ever find the email he sent me, I may try again. But for now, here's another taste of something from my storage locker...

           

( "Kayla" by TM Thomas )

First of all, a brief piece of disclosure. I know Stacia Kane. Not well enough to chat for hours on the phone about books and do each other’s nails or anything, but in this new age of internet acquaintances and contact via 140 characters, I’d consider her a friend.

A second introductory piece: I also used to run the late and very lamented (by me) book club at the League of Reluctant Adults. I have been an adjunct professor and an attorney in a civil litigation practice. I mention this, in part, to counter the first thing I had to say up there. Even if I know someone, I have the critical skills to analyze and examine the work.

And also, if I know someone, I just tend to nod, smile and change the subject if I don’t care for their latest work.

Author: And then the sun hits him and he sparkles!

Me: Hmm. How about those Pirates?

Earlier this week, I downloaded Sacrificial Magic. Through NetGalley, I was approved (suckers) to pre-read…read pre-release….whatever…Chasing Magic. I could give you a breakdown bit by bit of plot points and whatnot, because these novels do feature A LOT of stuff happening.

But you can get that elsewhere. I’ve been critical in the past of some urban fantasy and contemporary fantasy and modern fantasy and…well, it’s all sort of the same thing…novels. Some series seem to drag on after the first arc. I love the individual novels, despite the fact I swear off the series every time I look at the lack of growth and development.

Author: And then the wizard has to overcome the loss of his guitar hand and malaria! And chicken pox!

Me: Hmm. Did I mention the Pirates are 0-1 right now?

Ms. Kane has not fallen into this trap and, given the shakeups and events, doesn’t seem to be headed there anytime soon. Chess Putnam, Churchwitch, continues to face overwhelming odds, since that’s what happens in novels, and generally triumph without ever achieving true happiness (again, that’s what happens here…it’s like the HEA in a romance novel.) But things are changing. Her relationship with Terrible continues to deepen. Her relationship with Lex develops new facets, and loses old ones. Her connection with her mentor, Elder Griffin, changes and she and he both go through some things. (I’ll leave it for you to read what these things are.)

Kane’s characters are not static. They continue to be mired in their complex world of crime, addictions and Big Holy Brother, but they evolve. Sacrificial, especially, gave me brief hope for Chess as she momentarily sees the Chess she might have been. She’s too damaged to think she deserves happiness, to the point her drug use becomes A Thing in both novels, but it’s a start. It’s looking beyond, and caring for others, and perhaps some groundwork to overcome her personal demons. (Insert plug for Kane’s other series here.)

I wouldn’t necessarily recommend anyone jump in at either of these novels to the series, although I suppose that’s possible. Both, along with the earlier books, are recommended because the character growth is as well-done as the magical system, worldbuilding and character relationships, all of which make this one of the strongest series in Urban Fantasy.

1) The timeliness of posting has more to do with procrastination from Day Jobbing than from anything to report. It was a very busy weekend and now I'm looking at end-of-month reporting that I need to do this week and...meh.

2) I was going to post an Actual Interactive Moment where I posed a question to readers, then I realized it wasn't a very good question. Gist of it is that I'm sitting on a YA series idea (I've posted snippets before) based in the Chronicles of Amber and I've been working on a script for a tv show I've been watching. I need to find a path to put them into play, other than "sell enough novels to be a marketable quantity with an agent who will make the connections for you."

3) I have a couple of short stories still out on submission, but I'm in a bit of a lull because so much has been going on in other parts of my life. It's a shame I didn't write more when I was young and almost-friendless. All those high school nights where my friends were on dates and I sat home alone...I could have been churning out...well, nothing good, given my lack of insight, experience and talent. At the time. I've since gained some insight and experience.

4) Yesterday, out of the blue, my sinuses decided to start their Niagara Falls impersonation. I am not happy.

5) Oh, wait...as scintillating as all that was, I did have substantive comment. I think I actually meant to lead with this, maybe as a short one item post. Oops. Well, think of it as your reward for making it this far. I read a book this weekend. I'd been waiting for it a while. Not anxiously or Twihard style mooning, but I've read a couple other books by this author and enjoyed them. One of the previous was set in this same world.

I'm a simple creature, so I take my cues from pop culture in many ways. I am a huge science fiction nerd, which is why I was originally thinking in terms of The Empire Strikes Back. I also used to be a student of pro wrestling, writing for blogs and studying the old matches, and there's a certain cycle that goes into a good feud. Short version: it's okay for the good guy to lose when it ups the ante and leads to a bigger finale. The building of conflict should involve some sort of back-and-forth of victory and defeat.

This novel lacked that...in that it lacked any real buildup of conflict. Lots of things happened. Some put Our Hero and Friends in jeopardy. And Double Jeopardy. And quite nearly, Final Jeopardy. Relationships formed. And were broken. And formed. And were broken. But none of it was lasting enough, or carried enough weight, that it made me take it seriously. And I can deal with Stuff Happens sorts of novels if there's a payoff, like something that moves the mythology of the series arc further along. But instead, we had basically a cameo from the Big Bad Who Will Turn Out to Be Not That Bad and the book ends basically where it began. A few years ago, I'd have been more accepting of such an urban fantasy novel, given my appetite for the genre. But now that it's more prevalent, even if a series I'm enjoying, I need the plot to move forward in each book and the middle slice can't just be a placeholder between big events in the start and book three.

1) Remember when I was going to blog every Monday? Remember when I thought I'd get a novel published? Remember when I actually sold a short story? If you do, please write it down for me, because it seems I'm forgetting such things.

2) I am trying to market this substandard product, however, via http://www.facebook.com/authortmthomas

3) I've been going to the gym for less than a week now, but I'm feeling positive about the experience. Then again, I go before dawn when it's pretty empty and I use cast-off exercise equipment that's basically in the hallway, so I'm not having to interact with Serious Exercisers and In Shape People. I still have a lot of gym anxiety, but what fat guy doesn't?

4) Day Job is extra busy of late. Mix that with a flood of tv shows now on our viewing list and I haven't had the time I'd hoped for to keep writing things down. I'm still working on all my various projects and just threw an attempt at a spec script for a tv show into the hopper.

5) I'm very excited about some new books coming out soon. My reading has curtailed a bit (see time stuff above) but it's also been because there hasn't been anything I'm really hyped for in a bit. This week changes that, so hopefully the spring rush of anticipated books continues.

If anyone is interested, I started a "T.M. Thomas" writer page on Facebook, featuring links to my published stories and ongoing snippets of work.

sometimes I write things that, even if they seem finished, aren't. And I don't know where to take them.
In this installment of Trunk Story Saturday, we present "Kayla":

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            Kayla tried not to touch her stomach as she waited for Mandy. In the distance, she could see Shawn and his brother working on the lawns. She tried not to stare, even though both of them were bare-chested and glistening with sweat in the noon sunshine. They were thin and dark and she found it hard not to look at them.

            Mandy was carrying a white plastic bag from the drugstore. Inside were a bunch of boxes and candy bars, all showing through the plastic. The other kids already teased her about her weight, so Kayla was sad to see the candy. Nerves took that thought out of her mind fast, though.

           

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            “Did you get them all?” Followed by a sigh. “The whole family?”

            Casey opened her eyes as she gave a tug on the ropes that held her wrists together. Not the fat sort of ropes she’d seen tv characters wrapped in, though. More like twine. Really rough and smelly twine, knotted tightly onto her wrists and wrapped around her stomach.

            “Yes, Count,” Rocco whined back.

            “Don’t call me that!” The older man drew back a hand as he yelled, but he didn’t strike. His eyes stopped on Casey, who had flinched when he pulled back. “She started that stupid name and soon you’ll get everyone saying it.”

            “What else do you call the leader of vampires?” she asked, having to pause to work her sore jaw every couple of words. She was surprised how dry and raspy her voice sounded. And how much her lips and teeth all seemed to hurt.

        

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