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Well, that was interesting. [Very self-centered and boring remarks follow.]
The Tor.com Heinlein blog symposium is over, I think. You would think I'd know myself better by now, but I didn't. Patrick had referred to it as a "slow-motion panel," and that made me think, "Good, good, I can handle that a lot better than a real one-hour panel."
Well, no. Just as with a real panel, I spent more time gnawing my fingernails than working on things to say; I managed an opening statement and one other set of remarks; my fellow panelists struck me speechless for a whole rainbow of reasons; and now that it's done I'm bursting with half-baked ideas, and, in this case, half-written blog posts (more than half of which I like more than half as much as they deserve). It doesn't matter what the medium is, everybody else is much, much faster than I am at doing this stuff.
There is one post, which I sent in too late, that is close enough to being what I wanted it to be that I can probably put it up at some point, behind a cut for those who are tired of Heinlein; or maybe even on my website, if I can get back into it after months of neglect. No, you aren't missing anything; I never actually made the website go live because I was so freaked out by the requirement to cut my book by seventy-five percent. It'd be nice to have the website up if the book ever gets published, but there's plenty of time for that.
And the wreckage of my book still awaits a miraculous touch to make it rise again, smaller, more compact, and stronger. I just finished Chapter 18 and chucked a lot of scenes into a new file optimistically labelled Chapter 19. Once more into the breach, and close the walls up with our darlings dead. Whee.
Pamela
The Tor.com Heinlein blog symposium is over, I think. You would think I'd know myself better by now, but I didn't. Patrick had referred to it as a "slow-motion panel," and that made me think, "Good, good, I can handle that a lot better than a real one-hour panel."
Well, no. Just as with a real panel, I spent more time gnawing my fingernails than working on things to say; I managed an opening statement and one other set of remarks; my fellow panelists struck me speechless for a whole rainbow of reasons; and now that it's done I'm bursting with half-baked ideas, and, in this case, half-written blog posts (more than half of which I like more than half as much as they deserve). It doesn't matter what the medium is, everybody else is much, much faster than I am at doing this stuff.
There is one post, which I sent in too late, that is close enough to being what I wanted it to be that I can probably put it up at some point, behind a cut for those who are tired of Heinlein; or maybe even on my website, if I can get back into it after months of neglect. No, you aren't missing anything; I never actually made the website go live because I was so freaked out by the requirement to cut my book by seventy-five percent. It'd be nice to have the website up if the book ever gets published, but there's plenty of time for that.
And the wreckage of my book still awaits a miraculous touch to make it rise again, smaller, more compact, and stronger. I just finished Chapter 18 and chucked a lot of scenes into a new file optimistically labelled Chapter 19. Once more into the breach, and close the walls up with our darlings dead. Whee.
Pamela
