• Writing

    Is Anyone Out There?

    Disclaimer: I’m about to throw a lot of high-concept stuff in your direction. And some of it involves, like, math. I am not a mathematician. It is not only possible but probable that I’ve made a mess of any calculations involved in what is below. It also involves a lot of science-stuff. I did some research to make sure that I had it as right as I could get it, but I have inevitably made some mistakes. Don’t take anything I say below as gospel. Feel free to point out my mistakes, and please bear with my wilder flights of fancy. :)

     

     

    Thought experiment.

    I take you and a random stranger aside on separate occasions.

    I hand you a nice telescope. I say, “Every night for one year, I want you to take this outside any time you like, after dark, but before dawn. Point it in any direction you like for exactly ten seconds and watch carefully. If you see a small, bright light blinking once every second, call me.”

    I hand the stranger an extremely bright LED light. To them, I say, “Every night for one month, I want you to take this light outside at any time you like, after dark, but before dawn. Go to the same place every night. When you get in place, hold it above your head and blink the light on and off ten times, spaced one second apart.”

    To both of you (but separately), I say, “You can start doing this any night you want. Try not to miss a night, but if you have to, make it up at the end. And don’t talk to each other.”

    What do you think are the chances that I will get a phone call from you because you saw the stranger’s light blinking?


    I first wrote a version of this on my old website many years ago. This version is, I sincerely hope, clearer and better explained. It was to point out the difficulty of looking for signs of extraterrestrial intelligence using our then-current method of pointing a satellite dish at a star and “listening” for a short while, then moving on to another. Basically at random. If there truly were any ETs out there making an interstellar — or intergalactic — call, what are the chances they’re talking while we’re listening? What are the chances that we happen to be at the same level of technology (more or less) during the same span of time? What are the chances that both our species are long-lived enough (as a species) to have a meaningful dialogue? What are the chances that both our species’ version of ‘government’ or ‘research grants’ would fund something of that sort?

    At the time I wrote the original, we had discovered maybe two or three planets outside our own system. And those were all hot Jupiters, massive worlds orbiting so close to their stars that they were too hot to support any kind of life that we would recognize as life. Now we know of thousands of exoplanets, and we believe (with evidence) that planets are common, not rare. We even have telescopes in orbit — Kepler Space Telescope and TESS — designed specifically to look for new planets. The methods we used to find those very planets suggest ways to improve our search for ET if he’s out there. We can detect planets around other stars best if the extra-solar system is ‘edge-on’ to us — in other words, we spot planets by the dimming of their sun’s light when the planets’ orbits put them between Earth and their star, dimming the light enough that our computers can detect it.

    It means that we can refine our search to those stars like our sun around which we have detected at least one planet. We can direct our search at stars for which our system is edge-on.

    Our signals are designed for our equipment, of course. But EM (electromagnetic) radiation is ubiquitous across the entire universe. From radio to gamma, it’s all just light. We mostly use radio and microwaves in our communication (radiation starts getting dangerous at x-rays and up). Depending on the type of signal and the intended receiver, the information (audio, video, etc.) is coded by modulating the waves. It’s probable that these are obvious enough that an alien species would figure that out. I mean, we did pretty quickly after realizing EM existed and how it works.

    EM radiation spreads out from its source in a spherical wave. The strength of the signal gets weaker in proportion to the square of the distance from the source. At interstellar distances, the signal is so weak, we might not even recognize it as a signal; it might get lost in the random noise between them and us.

    There may be ways to overcome the loss of strength. Consider a civilization advanced enough that they have figured out how to encode their information using some physical property of the photons themselves. For instance, the “spin.” Although the number of photons arriving at the destination would be few, the “signal” would still be “strong” unless something interfered with the photons’ spins between the source and the destination. Would we even recognize this as a signal at our level of technology?

    We have a narrow band of the EM scale we use to encode radio and television. Radio is electromagnetic waves (light) that we use to encode sound. The light is then re-translated into sounds (vibrations in a medium, and that medium is 78% nitrogen, 21% oxygen, and 1% trace elements (at atmospheric pressures comfortable for humans)) detectable by human ears, roughly 20 Hz to 20,000 Hz (20 kHz). Our evolution dictated the range in which we can hear. Other animals here on earth hear in vastly different ranges, some very low sounds (elephants, for example (14-16 Hz)) and some teeth-gratingly high ones (bats, for instance (up to 115 kHz)). How different might an extra-solar species senses be? Would they even know to interpret our signals as sound? Would their atmosphere even conduct sound waves in a similar way to ours?

    A TV broadcast is, at a simple approximation, one of those audio signals paired with a synchronized video signal broken into rows and columns (arbitrary values, which are different even in different regions on Earth) designed to be decoded into brightness values (on arbitrary scales) for the colors red, green, and blue. Red, green, and blue are specific frequencies of light in a very narrow band that humans evolved to perceive with specialized cells in our eyes, based on our specific environment and evolutionary pressures. Other animals here on earth see colors very differently because of different evolutionary pressures. Some (like cats) see a drab (to us) subset. Some (like mantis shrimp) see a profusion of colors we wouldn’t even have names for. Others (insects, birds, etc.) can see in frequencies we know are there, but can only see by false-color approximations (rendering infrared as varying shades of red, orange, yellow, blue, and violet based on temperatures (that are comfortable and meaningful to our particular species, using arbitrary scales); ultraviolet in shades of green, indigo, or violet).

    Some species here on earth communicate via the medium of water instead of air (whales, dolphins), in which sound propagates differently. Others communicate with each other via smell and/or body posture. Others “taste” their surroundings (snakes, lizards). Still others use senses we don’t have an analog for, such as platypuses, which detect electrical signals with their bills. Others can sense the variable strength of the magnetic field of the planet. No one is even quite sure how birds and butterflies and fish find their way while migrating. We have hypotheses, of course . . .

    If we received a signal from another civilization that was encoded for body posture and smell instead of light and sound, how would we interpret that? Could we ever decipher it? This is why the signals we have sent out deliberately are encoded in a “universal” language of math. The first one thousand prime numbers, for example. Math is math is math, pretty much anywhere you go in the universe, and as long as they could interpret binary, we would at least be able to say, “Yo! We’re here and we know the first 1000 prime numbers! We’re intelligent!”

    We can’t understand the communications of any of those animals here on earth beyond a rudimentary level, and we share ~3.8 billion years of evolution with them. You are more closely related to an Ebola virus than you would be to any species that evolved on a planet other than Earth. We are all related more closely than we would be with any extra-terrestrial or extra-solar — or extra-galactic — life. Sure, we’ve modified some of our companion species to be able to better understand us, and we’ve become attuned to them, but do you really know what your dog is thinking? A cat? A raccoon? A cow? A snake? What about a whale, dolphin, mole, bat, or eagle, who exist in a three-dimensional world we have no real concept of? Or an octopus, squid, or cuttlefish, with no skeletal structure and the ability to change shape, texture, and color at will?

    And if we could communicate with these animals, how would they describe things to us that are natural to them, but for which we have no basis for understanding? Sonar, pheromones, 3-dimensional movement, chromatophores, flying, swimming, air bladders, electrical sensitivity, magnetic sensitivity, etc.

    Given all of the above . . . what are the chances that an alien intelligence, evolving on a different world with different evolutionary pressures, would have any concept on which to approach understanding us, or we them? Or, as put succinctly by Deanna Troi on the episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation entitled “The Ensigns of Command”:

    Troi: We are stranded on a planet. We have no language in common, but I want to teach you mine.
     
    [she holds up her clear tea glass, partially filled with hot tea]
     
    Troi: S’smarith. What did I just say?
     
    Picard: “Cup” . . . “Glass.”
     
    Troi: Are you sure? I may have meant “liquid.” “Clear.” “Brown.” “Hot.” We conceptualize the universe in relatively the same way.
     
    Picard: Point taken.

    And Troi forgot “refreshing,” “invigorating,” “aromatic,” “ceramic” (if the cup weren’t glass), “caffeinated,” “tannin-containing,” “full”/”half-full”/”half-empty,” “to your health,” “relaxing,” “sleep-inducing,” and a host of other concepts that one might mean when one brandishes a cup of tea in the way she did. Some of which we might not even be able to conceive of. Imagine an intelligent dog holding up chocolate and meaning “agonizing death.”

    Now, let’s talk about time. Time is a huge factor, here. It took life roughly 4 billion years on Earth to go from raw amino acids to Homo sapiens sapiens, capable of contemplating ET. Many stars with planets will have gone off the main sequence during that time. Others are still forming as you read this. Perhaps a billion years ago, a civilization was looking for life elsewhere, but we weren’t yet able to hear it, being mostly ocean-dwelling, tiny eukaryotes at the time. A billion years from now, after the Earth’s surface is likely uninhabitable, perhaps some far civilization will spot our signals, but there will be no one home to receive their reply, much less engage in a conversation.

    Now, suppose we find someone. Assuming they are farther than about 25 light-years from us, having a “conversation” with them would be unlikely in a single human lifetime, as we would have to detect and decode their signal, then compose a response, and it would take the same amount of time for our reply to make it back to them as it took for theirs to make it to us. We’re talking about a simple two-line conversation

    “Hello! We’re here!”
     
    “Hi! So are we!”

    taking at least 50 years. Quite a commitment of time and resources. Speaking of that . . . what are the chances that any civilization would want to spend the time and resources to even look for us? We’ve been listening for several decades, and our own governments here begrudge every cent spent on the endeavor. And rightly so. There are many better things to spend time and resources on than looking for ET.

    And all of that doesn’t take xenophobia into account. The late Dr. Stephen Hawking famously pointed out that any civilization that we were to discover would more than likely be ahead of us, technologically. Would it even be smart to announce our presence, given the history humans have amongst ourselves when an advanced civilization encounters a more primitive one? So far, it has never yielded a positive — or even neutral — result for the less-advanced civilization. What makes us think a space-faring alien species would be benevolent? What makes them think we would be? Realistically, we’d be better off hiding all evidence of our existence and hoping that no one detects our radio signals and follows them back to the source.


    Why does all this come up? I thought you’d never ask! :)

    A while back, it was announced that SETI had gotten a boost in the form of generous support from a private investor. SETI has been around for a long time and has been . . . well, let’s just admit it: they’ve been kind of a joke. No one really expects to find anything, and I’ve outlined above my understanding of how unlikely it is that we will ever find a message decipherable by us. So SETI has been underfunded for a long time. Given very little time on telescopes, relegated to the short bus even amongst the other science nerds.

    It’s had some amazing support over the years, mind you. Stephen Hawking, Frank Drake, Carl Sagan, others. Drake’s famous equation

    N = R* ⋅ fp ⋅ ne ⋅ f ⋅ fi ⋅ fc ⋅ L

    gives us the ability to very roughly calculate an estimate of how many extra-solar civilizations we might reasonably expect to exist in our own galaxy. When he first developed the equation, we didn’t know hard values for, really, any of the factors. We know “N” is “at least 1” (us). Now, we’re able to fill in a lot of those factors with real numbers, or at least much narrower ranges.

    All the Drake Equation gives us is an estimate of the number of civilizations (of our level or greater) that we might expect to “find” (in some way) in our galaxy. What it does not cover is all that stuff I mentioned above. If we’re not listening at the right frequency or in the right direction, or if we can’t comprehend the message as a message, then what hope do we have of ever learning the answer to that question I put in the title? Is anyone out there?

    Our civilization is leaking signals like a . . . leaky thing . . . that leaks. Come up with your own simile. We have, however, sent out two deliberate physical messages and ten deliberate electromagnetic ones I can find a record of. The physical messages were in the form of gold records attached to the outsides of Voyager 1 and Voyager 2. You can read about the ten EM signals here. The total broadcast time of all ten messages is certainly less than thirty minutes, and spread out over almost forty years. They were also aimed at specific spots in the sky, so would be undetectable for most of the universe. Remember my thought experiment way up at the top of this post, with the telescope and the LED light?

    One of those signals was beamed at Gliese 581 in 2008. Our signal will arrive in 2029. Assuming there’s anyone there to receive it, and they somehow decipher it, perhaps they will answer, and by 2050 we’ll have a positive answer to that perennial question.

    In spite of the astronomical odds against it, I certainly hope it to be the case, even given the xenophobia factor. Unfortunately, unless medical technology (or the ability to upload our consciences to computers) improves before then, that’ll be all I could realistically be around for. By the time the aliens could receive our reply and reply back, it would be 2092, and I’d have to find a way to live to be 127 years old.

    On the bright side, I might be done with my novel by then. :) (HaHa! I brought this sucker back around to writing after all!)


    Why did I write this? Full disclosure.

    1. I first started writing this rewrite of this post in 2015. I wrote the original sometime between 1998 and 2002.
    2. But it’s not the usual kind of thing I publish on this blog because this blog is about writing.
    3. This article is only very obliquely about writing. But it’s also among one of my favorite things I ever wrote.
    4. So . . . here we are. :)

    But to bring it actually around to writing, I love me some science-fiction, even though I typically write more fantasy and . . . I’ll call it ‘horror’ because ‘dark fantasy’ and ‘dark fiction’ sound . . . weak. Generally , it’s very mild horror. One of the things that has always rather bothered me about science fiction is that it makes the assumption that the galaxy — and by extension the entire universe — is teeming with life, including FTL-capable, intelligent species who, for some reason, have an interest in contacting us. Sometimes to conquer/consume. Sometimes to uplift. Sometimes as equals.

    As soon as I was old enough to understand the vastness of the universe and the realities of space travel, I realized that most of what I was reading was more science fantasy rather than science fact. Even though shows / films like Babylon 5, Star Wars, and Star Trek are among my favorite things ever, I still realize that it’s very unrealistic. And one day, I got the idea of explaining why.

    Do I think we will one day discover life elsewhere than Earth? Maybe?

    Do I think there is intelligent life in the universe? Maaaaaybe?

    Do I think we will ever talk to it if it is? No.

    Do I think any of it has ever been here? No.

    Doesn’t stop me from wanting to tell the stories where those things do happen. But I try to keep all of the above in mind when I do. :)


    1. I think at the time we were using the dish at Arecibo in Puerto Rico, which is only useful over a span of about thirty degrees of the sky (it is limited because it’s built into a sinkhole and is spherical instead of parabolic), so that narrows our range even further. And, thanks to Hurricane Maria in September, 2017, that dish is damaged, and its future is uncertain.
    2. It’s called “the transit method.” There are other methods, of course. One of which is to look for the “wobble” in the star as its planets orbit and their gravity pulls it slightly. We can detect the incredibly subtle difference in its redshift and determine the number and sizes of planets that would cause the star to wobble in that way. Science! :)
    3. We could further refine it once we discover more planets that are located within the “Goldilocks Zone” (not too hot, not too cold, but juuuuuust right) of the parent star. Those are the ones most likely to have liquid water, and therefore life that would be most likely “similar” to something we could recognize as life. Life could probably evolve using some other solvent than water, but would we even recognize it as life? The Goldilocks Zone will be different for different types of stars, and there could be more than one planet in the Goldilocks Zone of a given star (Venus, Earth, and Mars, for instance). It is also sometimes referred to as the “habitable zone,” “comfort zone,” and “circumstellar habitable zone.” And of course, it goes without saying (so I’ll say it anyway) that ‘habitable’ means ‘for humans.’
    4. In other words, stars located within a few degrees of the solar system’s ecliptic plane, the relatively flat plane in which all of the planets orbit the sun. Ours is remarkably flat, except for Pluto and some of the other dwarf planets.
    5. The signal strength at the source is some value “A,” and as it propagates outward from that source, the “A” is spread evenly over the surface of the sphere centered on the source. The formula to calculate the surface area of a sphere is 4Πr2 (4 times Π times the radius squared). So at 10 miles, the sphere has roughly 100 times the surface area it does at 1 mile, so the signal is harder to detect. At 20 miles, it’s 400 times the surface area. Etc. This is why radio stations on Earth’s surface have to be so strong in order to serve a wide listening area, and the farther out you get from the station, the worse the signal is. Voyager 1 is less than 20 light-hours from Earth, and its signal is tiny, but still detectable. But we also know where to look and what frequency it uses. It still takes very large radio antennae to pick up its weak signal.
    6. By “understand” I mean natively. We can interpret the different barks and meows and neighs and bleats, but we know some of those animals only use those sounds around humans. Fully interpreting what two cats are “saying” to each other is beyond our abilities. We literally have no basis for understanding.
    7. And of course, by “all,” I must include plants, fungi, bacteria, viruses, archaeans, etc. Humans are more related to fungi and ebola viruses than we could ever be to any extraterrestrial life, unless you want to get into Panspermia, which is a whole other discussion. :)
    8. It is estimated that the Earth’s surface will become uninhabitable in about 500 million years because of a slow, but steady, increase in the sun’s heat output. The surface will be dry and unable to support life. Whatever species might be around at that point will likely have to leave Earth in order to remain viable. Or burrow into the planet itself. Which will be fine until about 5 billion years from now, when our sun will expand into a red giant and consume Mercury and Venus and possibly Earth. Even if it doesn’t consume Earth, the surface of our planet will be so close to the sun, it will make Mercury look polar by comparison. I doubt if even cockroaches and houseflies could survive that. At that point, perhaps Mars will experience a rebirth, if we (or whomever) can find some way of enabling it to retain an atmosphere and gain a magnetic field. Or maybe Ganymede, Europa, or one of the other outer moons.
    9. Even if we were to discover an intelligent species around the closest star — Proxima Centauri — each line of the conversation would separated by a bit over four years. “Hi!” <4 years> “Hey!” <4 years> “How’s it going?” <4 years> . . .
    10. The value of the equation lies not with the value but the contemplation of it.
      • N is the number of civilizations in our galaxy with which radio-communication might be possible (i.e. which are on our current past light cone)
      • R* is the average rate of star formation in our galaxy
      • fp is the fraction of those stars that have planets (we now know this number to be much higher than we once believed)
      • ne is the average number of planets that can potentially support life per star that has planets (this is the number of planets in the Goldilocks zone . . . for humans, because we’re kind of biased)
      • f is the fraction of planets that could support life that actually develop life at some point
      • fi is the fraction of planets with life that actually go on to develop intelligent life (civilizations)
      • fc is the fraction of civilizations that develop a technology that releases detectable signs of their existence into space
      • L is the length of time for which such civilizations release detectable signals into space

      The above information came from the Wikipedia entry on The Drake Equation

    11. Come on. You didn’t expect me to ignore the low-hanging pun entirely, did you?
  • Writing

    Writing Report, September 2018

    Fountain Pen
    Writing

    Full disclosure: I’ve written this post very after-the-fact. In December, 2018. But I decided to take a cue from podcaster Chris Lester and sort of do a ‘writing update’ thing. And why let a little thing like ‘it was three months ago’ stand in my way?

    As I mentioned in an earlier post, I’ve been using a spreadsheet and a work-scheduling app to track words written and time spent. I decided to do a monthly wrap-up.

    I missed a day, and broke my chain. :( I had 43 days of straight writing — the most I’ve ever managed — and I visited my mother for her birthday at the end of the month and got sick, and then got home so late from that weekend that I was just exhausted and could literally not stay up long enough to write even 300 words unless it had been “All work and no play make Gary a dull boy” 30 times. Which was tempting, but no. :) I hated to break the chain, but it was unavoidable. So, I start over in October with a fresh new chain at 1, and it’ll take me a lot longer to get to level 3. Bummer, but I’m not going to beat myself up over it.

    I also hit a milestone! On the first, I realized that I’d free-written enough material to start organizing it into a bona-fide outline! So on the 1st through the 7th, I broke down my brain-dump into chunks and created a scene-by-scene rough outline of the entire novel, from start to finish. Very rough. :) On the 8th, I actually started writing the novel itself. Chapter 1, scene 1. And immediately had to start adding scenes to the outline! :)

    For September, 2018, my stats are

    • Words: 37,243
      • Daily average words: 1284
    • Time: 2048 minutes (34 hours, 8 minutes)
      • Daily average time: 70:37 min
    • Average words/hour: 1,091
    • Chain: 43 days
    • Level: 2 on the 16th
    • Quota: 300 words/day as of the 16th
  • Writing

    On Broken Chains . . .

    Last week, I posted about scheduling. As of the time of my post, I had written every day for forty days without breaking my chain. (You will begin to get a sense of foreboding, here, based on the title of this blog post.) Two days after I posted that, I came down with an illness. I had gone home to visit my mother for her birthday, and that night, I started feeling really unwell. Recognizing it as the early stages of a recurring illness that I haven’t had to deal with for almost three years(!), I quickly got in touch with my doctor via his web portal and requested an ’emergency prescription’ of the usual antibiotics be sent to my mother’s local pharmacy. His office isn’t open on weekends, but I gambled that he’s like most doctors: unable to leave work at work.

    My gamble paid off. :) He came through, and the next morning, I had antibiotics waiting for me at a pharmacy near my mother. Antibiotics that have . . . certain side effects. Not the least of which, in the first day or two, is extreme drowsiness. But even with that, I managed to get my words in even through the pain and discomfort on Friday night and through pain, discomfort, and nausea on Saturday. And then came Sunday.

    I had to drive several hours and remember to take my antibiotics, one of which causes nausea (and, being an antibiotic, doesn’t permit me to take antacids with calcium) and causes my mouth to taste like I’ve been sucking on a moldy penny. And the other of which causes a couple of other interesting bodily side effects I won’t go into. LET’S JUST SAY that by the time I arrived home around midnight, I was just not having any of it, for all values of ‘it’ that didn’t involve my immediately going to bed and sleeping. I did try to write. I really did. But all I could think of was how much I hurt and how awful the taste of antibiotic is and how tired I was and how much I didn’t want to go to work on Monday . . .

    So I broke my chain after day 43.

    But! I didn’t let that get in my way. I felt immensely better (by several metrics, if not by all of them) on Monday (on which I did not go to work), and on Tuesday (on which I also did not go to work, nor to my weekly critique session), so I was able to get some words in. I also have a couple more sites to add to my ‘turn it off at 10 pm’ list. I told you: I know me. :)

    So, this is day three of my current chain. Which, if I don’t break it again before then, will reach 43 days on November 13th. By which time, I hope to finally be out of chapter 2 (this chapter . . . OMG) and on to later sections of the novel.

    I had one of those ‘really comfortable in bed, just before sleep’ ideas last night, and, luckily (knowing myself as I do), I did not listen to the little voice in my head that whispered, “Oh, just drift off to sleeeeeep. You don’t have to write it doooooowwwwwwn. I’ll remember it fooooooor yooooouuuuuuu.” Uh-huh. Liar.

    I believe this is the voice responsible for Skullcosm ‘Nough said.

    So I got up and, through bleary eyes fogged by ointment, wrote down the idea, with some thoughts on how it might play out in the novel.

    And lo! when I arose this morning, it was mostly coherent (mostly) and still good, so I will incorporate it wholly into my novel.

    And there was much rejoicing.

    (yaaaaay)


    1. I suppose I could have just written, “I’m sick and tired and my mouth tastes like dead weasel and I want to go to bed and sleep forever,” 15 times, but it seemed like cheating.
  • NaNoWriMo,  Weekend Warrior,  Writing

    On Scheduling . . .

    So, yeah.

    I’m not what you’d call great at scheduling and planning. I’m pretty god-awful at it, in fact. I go through my time and make nice little charts (I’m great at charts) showing my work time, commute time, sleep time, etc., and color-code for when I can write . . .

    And then, generally speaking, I waste that time on Facebook, YouTube, or listening to podcasts. And to be frank, I don’t consider those complete wastes of time, per-sé. They are entertainment, and entertainment is important to me. But I tend to let them take up time that I should be spending doing . . . more productive things. Like writing.

    In mid-August, I’d finally had enough of it. I’d had The Idea™ earlier that week. The one that made all the pieces in my novel fall together, and tie loose ends in a bow, and make my characters make sense and fit in the world . . . it was mind-blowin’, I tells ya. I’d come home from work every day planning that tonight, by gum, I’d get that down on ‘paper’!

    And then it would be midnight or 1 AM and I would have nothing to show for the evening. As usual. But hey, I’d get it tomorrow

    One of my problems is perseverance. I have firefly enthusiasm for a project for a few nights . . . and then a favorite creator on YouTube releases a new video, or there’s a new Steven Universe episode . . . And then, of course, I’ve broken the chain. So the next night, it’s easier to say, “Well, I’ll just start again fresh next week.”

    Only next week comes . . . and I don’t start.

    Another problem is lack of accountability. I may write anywhere from 250 to 5000 words in a session, but I don’t keep track. Nor do I keep track of how much time I spend writing. It would be nice to have that information. But no one was making me do that, and, sure, it’s information that’s nice to have, but is it really required? Nnnoooo . . .

    The only two things that have ever worked for me, in fact, are NaNoWriMo and Weekend Warrior.

    Why do those work? Analysis time! (Charts may be my favorite, but lists are easily #2!)

    NaNoWriMo

    • has a strict start and end time (November 1 – 30)
    • has a strict word-count (50,000+)
    • has a daily component (1666 words per day)
    • is self-reported until the final day
    • is uploaded for verification on the final day
    • is during the second worst month possible because of the holiday at the end (in the US)
    • requires extensive planning beforehand if there’s any hope of getting anything that resembles a coherent story at the end

    Weekend Warrior

    • has a strict start and end time (Friday 9 pm to midnight Sunday)
    • has a participation requirement of reading and flash-critiquing anywhere from a dozen to two-dozen 750-word stories each week for five weeks
    • stories are rated on a (totally subjective) 1-10 scale and there’s a ‘winner’ per team each week and for each team for the entire contest
    • has a strict word-count (750 words or less per weekend)
    • is anonymously uploaded for word-count verification and distribution to other participants
    • has prompts that are given on Friday night
    • stories “must” spring forth from one or more prompts, even if they’ve been edited out of the final version
    • stories should be a story — beginning, middle, end, character, conflict, resolution — in 750 words
    • stories are expected to be (very broadly) science fiction, fantasy, or horror

    And boy, can I do it when I get into that mindset. I’ve gotten anywhere from 53,000 to over 122,000 words written in November for NaNoWriMo. I’ve completed a story for almost every week of Weekend Warrior for four or five years running. I can do it. I just don’t

    In short, I need structure. Deadline. Planning. Mindset. Goal. Accountability. Statistics.


    There’s a Google Doc spreadsheet that Tony Pisculli created a few years ago, called the Magic Spreadsheet. He came up with many formulae to gamify writing. You write words each day, and you get extra points for longer chains and consistency. You level up based on those points, and each level requires that you write a higher base number of words per day in order to count it as part of the chain.

    I thought this was what I wanted: the game aspect. Competing against other people and myself.

    But I hated having to go to the site and find my lines and put the info in. And it was, frankly, disheartening to go there on a day when I’d written 250 words and struggled to get them out, only to see others with 6000, 7000, 8000 words for that same day.

    So I did what any Excel-groupie would do: I downloaded a copy of the sheet for my private use. I studied it in detail so I could figure out what he did. And I tweaked it and made it my own in a few ways that he either didn’t think of or didn’t want to do. I added a time component to it. I added calculations for average words per hour and such. I even had a couple of friends ask me for their very own copy of the spreadsheet, which I happily provided.

    That would work for about a week, maybe two . . . and then I noticed that I was writing at 1 AM or 2 AM, right before bed, as a “Oh, right, I need to write something before bed or I’ll break my chain!” thing.

    Not ideal.

    So I took a suggestion from . . . I think it must have been either Mur Lafferty or some other writer who podcasts: if my problem is podcasts, Facebook, and YouTube, the obvious answer is: those have to go.

    But I have zero self-control. I think this post proves that beyond any shadow of a doubt. :)

    I needed a third party to impose that self-control. Short of deleting my account off Facebook, unsubscribing from every channel I subscribe to on YouTube, and forsaking all my podcasts, I didn’t see a way through.

    And again, words of wisdom from someone on some podcast, probably again with Mur Lafferty because she’s awesome: there are apps that cut off your Internet. Or limit your use of it in very specific ways.

    I located browser extensions for all my computers (Windows 10 work, Windows 10 home, Macbook Pro) for each browser (I know me: if there’s a browser that has the extension and one that doesn’t, I’ll use the one that doesn’t) that turns off my access to certain sites during a range of time. And for my phone (iPhone 7 Plus), it conveniently just updated to iOS 12 with Screen Time, which permits me to shut off apps during a time span. Now, at 10 pm, if I’m still watching YouTube, using Facebook, or listening to podcasts, it abruptly kicks me off and says, “Shouldn’t you be working?” (I had to tell it my workday starts at 10 pm and runs until 7 AM in order to get this to work.)

    WasteNoTime
    WasteNoTime

    I’m happy to report that this has actually worked. Quite well, in fact. I’m typing this slightly before 10 PM, in fact. In the next week or two, I might edge that time from 10 PM down to 9 PM, or even 8 PM. I’ve unsubscribed from some YouTube channels that I deemed to actually be a waste of my time and not very entertaining.

    Since August 18th, when I randomly decided to start this, I’ve written nearly 50,000 (48,633, not counting this post) words. Most of these have been for the novel I’ve been trying to find my way through for a long time. I plowed through almost two weeks of world-building, just typing away as fast as I could think. Ignoring spelling and grammar errors. What I wrote is an atrocious mess of stream of consciousness, but it forced me to confront the issues that I kept avoiding before. My characters’ flaws. Their backgrounds. Their motivations. How magic actually works in my universe. What the antagonist is up to and why. Side characters. Societal implications of the sudden appearance of magic.

    And then, after all that, I wrote an 11,000(ish)-word outline for the novel. From cover to cover, mostly in order. Took me seven days.

    And I don’t hate it. I can’t emphasize this enough. I have written things out before, but I hated them, because I couldn’t figure out some stuff, and I’d give up in frustration. But without the shiny-shiny lure of Facebook and YouTube and podcasts . . . I basically had to write or go to bed, and who wants to do that at 10 PM? (The last time I went to bed at 10 PM regularly I was in grade school and being forced to do so by my parents.) Have I mentioned I’m a creature of the night?

    As soon as the outline was done, I took a two-night break to write a flash piece, then jumped right into the book and started fleshing out the outline. I use Scrivener, so this was fairly easy.

    I’m deep in Chapter 2 of my novel, and paused again to write a short story that popped into my head one night after I went up to bed, because it was knocking on the inside of my skull wanting out.

    Tonight, this blog post is my words. You’ll see the edited version, but the unedited version will probably be something around 2,400 words, and that definitely puts me over my Level 2 limit of 300 required words for the day on the Magic Spreadsheet.

    For the first time in a long, long while, I feel like I’m enjoying writing. It doesn’t hurt that I got The Idea™ just before deciding to embark on this little adventure. It also doesn’t hurt that a friend of mine gave me an awesome idea at dinner the other night which I will unabashedly incorporate into my world and make it my own. (Thanks, Steve!)

    I’m also using an app on my phone to track my writing time. It’s for freelancers / contractors, so I defined a job called “Writing” and set the pay to minimum wage for the US. The final step of this was to actually set up a bank account and transfer money from my main checking account into it for any time I spend writing. Thirty minutes? Sure. Three hours? Better. My eventual goal for this is to use this money and only this money to attend writing-related events, such as WorldCon or Paradise Lost or anything else that comes up. If I haven’t written enough to “afford” it, then I have no business doing it.

    Yes, this is going to severely curtail fun things like WorldCon. But after a year in which I traveled to Texas, Massachusetts, and freakin’ Finland for writing-related events and had to fork out a lot for car issues . . . not going to WorldCon in San José this year, or Dublin next year, or New Zealand the year after that should leave me with a surplus for whatever comes up in 2021. And I’m (mostly) okay with that. (Mostly.) It’s time, as they say, to shit or get off the pot. And this includes submitting stuff. But I’ll get to that in another post. I have some more goal-setting to do.


    I’m fully aware that this post makes me sound like something of a Loony Toon, having to trick myself into doing a thing I supposedly like instead of other things I apparently like more, but maybe there are other people out there for whom this is also a problem. And maybe those people will see this and feel motivated by it. Weirder things have happened. The single most-visited page on my blog is the one where I reviewed a tiny little site called 750Words, which was another in a long line of attempts to find that magic something that worked to make me write daily.

    This blog post was written on my fortieth uninterrupted day of writing at least 250 (Level 1) or 300 (Level 2) words — new words — every single night. I do not think I have ever written consistently for forty days straight. I’ve even begun to start writing early and not waiting until I’m kicked off sites or have my phone’s apps go dark.

    They say that if you do anything for 21 days it becomes a habit. For me, that’s not true. It’s more like 60 days. :) So give me another month at this and maybe I’ll only use Facebook and YouTube after I get my words down for the day. Weirder things have happened!

    1. Weekend Warrior is an annual contest that takes place over five consecutive weekends beginning in January of each new year. I explain it a little in the text after this footnote. It’s on CodexWriters.com, but you have to be a member of Codex to get to it, and to get into Codex, there are requirements.
    2. It is called WasteNoTime.
    3. Right now, it’s set to Facebook and YouTube. I may include others if I start to notice myself hanging out on something else too much.
    4. Edited it — the most time-consuming part, thanks to formatting and links and dealing with WordPress’s new damned editor — and am finishing up at right around 12:15 AM.
    5. It’s called HoursTracker.
    6. Writers tend to think in terms of cents-per-word. A professional level market will pay $0.06/word and up for stories of Novelette length and below, often with a reduced rate or wordcount limit for novellas. Semi-pro and fanzines are below that. Novels will get — on average — around $2500 to $5000 for a beginner, and going up — or down, alas — from there. Expect to sell around 250 copies if you’re lucky; more if you’re a fantastic marketer. You don’t go into traditional publishing to get rich. You can do better selling independently if you write very fast, publish ebooks only, put out multiple novels per year, and have avid fans who like your writing and will buy whatever you put out and demand more. People are making hundreds of thousands per year doing this. More power to them. I’m not there, yet. :) Not sure I ever will be.
  • Writing

    Writing Report, August 2018

    Fountain Pen
    Writing

    Full disclosure: I’ve written this post very after-the-fact. In December, 2018. But I decided to take a cue from podcaster Chris Lester and sort of do a ‘writing update’ thing. And why let a little thing like ‘it was four months ago’ stand in my way?

    As I mentioned in an earlier post, I’ve been using a spreadsheet and a work-scheduling app to track words written and time spent. I decided to do a monthly wrap-up of each month.

    For August, 2018, my stats are

    • Words: 15,649
      • Daily average words: 1,118
    • Time: 605 minutes (10 hours, 5 minutes)
      • Daily average time: 40:20 min
    • Average words/hour: 1,551
    • Chain: 14 days
    • Level: 1
    • Quota: 250 words/day
  • Writing

    On Challenges . . .

    There’s this challenge going around. Maybe you’ve heard of it. Bloggers do it every day in April. But this one is for short story writers, and instead of daily, it’s weekly.

    For a year.

    What is this challenge? It’s the A to Z Story Challenge. I’m not sure who came up with it, or why, or why that matters. The point is, some writer-friends of mine were talking about it, and it sounded like something I should do, so I asked to be included, and now I’m in the Facebook group for the challenge.

    I figure, if nothing else, I’ll get a few blog posts out of it. :)

    The idea is that, each week beginning June 1, you have 7 days to complete a story inspired by each successive letter of the alphabet. “A” is due on the 7th, “B” on the 14th, “C” on the 21st, “D” on the 28th, and so on. Since there are 26 letters of the alphabet and ~52 weeks in a year, the letters will recycle starting November 30, and “A” will be due again on December 6th, “B” on the 13th, etc. Finishing up with a second “Z” story being due on May 30th, 2018.

    You may remember — because you hang on my every syllable — that in 2011, I did something very similar to this, self-imposed, and for NaNoWriMo, wrote (or began) 26 short stories, but with a new letter each day, and ended up with 122000+ words written in one month. It remains the most productive writing period of my life, and one of those stories got me into Viable Paradise XVI in 2012.

    But none of those stories ever went anywhere. They’re still sitting, in various stages of completion, on my hard drive.

    Mocking me.

    And then here came this. I suddenly realized this could be a “kick in the pants” to finally start editing those stories with the goal of getting them finished to a submittable state. Given how long it’s been since I even looked at many of those stories, it’ll present challenges of its own. But I think it’s a good idea, so that’s what I’m going to do. The core concept of each story will, I think, remain the same. But a lot of them went off the rails and either failed to meet my own expectations or veered off into territory where I couldn’t even see the original path from where they went. Now’s the time to at least attempt to address those issues.

    Beginning with “A Is for Anchor.” I liked the original idea, but I spent 12,000 words (!!) meandering along the “idea river” instead of pursuing an “idea highway” that goes a bit straighter.

    Wow. That metaphor, huh? Gotta love my brain. :)

    Anywho . . . I’m 1000 words in or so and I definitely think there’s an ending up there somewhere ahead. Now to get to it. By land, not by river.

    I don’t know if there will be a post per week, but we’ll see.

  • Meta

    The Death of LiveJournal

    I joined LiveJournal on January 7, 2003, because a group of friends I had been interacting with for ~13 years suddenly all disappeared from our usual platform (over internal politics by the people in charge) and went to LiveJournal. I have well over 3000 blog entries on LJ. I loved the site because of its privacy features and ease of design.

    Recently, now-Russian-owned-and-operated LiveJournal explicitly changed their terms of service to require obeying Russian law. This entails “protecting” minors from discussions of “sexual deviancy.” This is code for LGBTQ+ issues. In order to continue using the site, one has to click “agree” when logging in, and if you don’t, Bad Things™ will happen. (i.e., They disable/remove your account and you lose all access to your blog.)

    So I clicked ‘agree,’ but I cannot and do not and will not ever actually agree to those terms. So what that means is that I have to find some way to export all of my 3000+ posts from LJ and import them either to here or to my Blogger blog. Blogger is probably a “better” choice in terms of tone, but I prefer WordPress for the control I have.

    What I don’t have is a good way to do this all at once. There is a LiveJournal importer, but it has only negative reviews, because apparently although it tries to import comments along with the blog posts themselves, it ends up duplicating the comments. And not just once or twice, but up to ten times, each. This is something I, too, noticed back before I created this site, when I was playing around on WordPress.com. It was ugly and useless, and I never did get everything cleaned up. It’s a big reason why I’m not hosted on WordPress.com and have my own domain, in fact.

    What this means is that I must export my posts — sans comments! :( — from LiveJournal to XML files, then import those into WordPress. But on LJ, one can only export 1 month at a time.

    I have 170(ish) months of posts, which will generate — you guessed it — 170ish files, and each one will have to be imported into this blog separately.

    What this means to all both of my loyal readers is that . . . things may get weird, here. I have no idea what the LiveJournal posts are going to look like when they end up on WordPress. I have no idea what the date stamps will be. I have no idea what WordPress will do with my formatting or my embedded media or my userpics . . . I just don’t know. I’ll have to try a test, and even that may not be a good indication.

    What I do know is that I will turn off the thing that automatically tweets, Google+s, Facebooks, LiveJournals, and Tumblrs new posts, because that would get real fugly, real fast.

    I don’t know how long this will take. I do know it will require a ton of time. Time I don’t really have. So it will be slow going. And I also know that although I’ve tried to keep my blog here at least PG-13 because it represents the “professional” part of me, should I ever be published and people come here looking for more me (Hey, it could happen!). My LiveJournal . . . is not PG-13. It’s not NC-17, but it’s certainly at least R-rated. So I will just warn you now. :)

    As soon as I’m done exporting all my posts and I’m sure that everything is safely saved and thoroughly backed up, I will be deleting my 14-year-old account on LiveJournal. They will receive no more of my money. They will receive no more of my time. They will receive no more of my consideration. I’m done.

    Now, to all the people who are going to snidely comment, “LiveJournal is still a thing? I thought it was already dead!” . . . we get it. You’re very funny. But I really like some of the stuff I have on that site. It’s some of my best writing, and I hate to lose all the comments that I got over the years from friends, former friends, and strangers alike. But there’s no way to preserve them. Will I keep every silly one-sentence pun post? Probably not, to be honest. But whether you knew it or not, there is — or was; I suspect this TOS change will drive most of the decent people who are still using the site away — still a thriving community. Perhaps not as active as it once was, but still active nonetheless. And part of me will miss it. But a much bigger part of me hates what it has become, and refuses to use the site on their terms.

    Stay tuned for further developments.

  • Reading,  Writing

    On World Building

    Occasionally, while reading or listening to a story, I’m struck by a sentence or a paragraph that is just . . . so perfect, it makes me want to throw out everything I have ever written. Or, alternatively, to fix everything I’ve ever written so that it comes closer to what I have just read/heard.

    Today, on my way to work, I was listening to the Glittership podcast, episode 6: “And Out of the Strong Came Forth Sweetness” by Lisa Nohealani Morton (@lnmorton).

    The first two paragraphs of the story are as follows.

    After the Collapse and the Great Reboot, Lila moved into the city and opened a barbershop.

    Great things were happening in the city: spaceports and condominiums and public works projects outlined their soon-to-be-erected monuments to great men and women and superior city living in holographic glows. Angels patrolled the sky, resplendent with metal wings that sparkled in the sun when they banked for a turn. Everyone seemed to be full of exciting plans for the future, but Lila came from a long line of barbers and her humble shop only seemed fitting. She called the shop The Lion’s Mane, because there were lions, once.

    It was at this point that I completely lost the story. Not because it was boring or because something had kicked me out, but because of the stunning simplicity and beauty of the world building behind the phrase “because there were lions, once.” My mind wandered, imagining this story’s world. Something called the Collapse and something else called the Great Reboot are hinted at, but the single phrase “because there were lions, once” conveys important things about the character and the world and her relation to it.

    It’s wistful and sad (to me, at least), and stated so matter-of-factly that there is no question in the reader/listener’s mind that the character feels this loss deeply. So deeply, in fact, that she has named her barber shop The Lion’s Mane in honor of the once-proud beasts. It tells us that lions are going to matter in this story.

    The lion has long been a symbol of strength and wildness. If lions — the apex predator of an entire continent — no longer exist, what kind of world do these characters live in? I personally experienced a sense of loss upon hearing that phrase, as though lions really had been announced to be extinct. (I love big cats probably above all other animals.)

    I missed the next half-minute of the story and had to rewind to that point, and nearly zoned out again, but pushed through, and listened to almost all of the rest on my remaining commute. I’m almost done with the story, and the promise of that phrase “because there were lions, once” is being fulfilled. I knew that from the get-go, of course, but this is how a skilled writer does it.

    If you’re not already listening to Glittership, consider subscribing. Keffy R. M. Kehrli is the host of and editor behind the podcast. I’ve been enjoying it as I catch up.

  • Personal,  Writing

    Viable Paradise XVI, Revisited

    Viable Paradise
    Viable Paradise

    In 2012, I attended Viable Paradise, a one-week, intensive writing workshop held annually on Martha’s Vineyard the thirdish week of October. “Paradise” because duh, Martha’s Vineyard in October. “Viable” because only one week, not six. You don’t have to get a second mortgage and put your entire life — job, family, friends, etc. — on hold.

    But you still get an amazing experience. A lot of awesome information from top-notch instructors; a lot of amazing socializing with your fellow students, the instructors, and staff; a lot of tasty food; and probably a little something else, as well: a tribe.

    I wrote a retrospective post about it a few days after I got back. It’s linked from Viable Paradise’s page, and I notice an uptick in the number of hits each year around the time the new crop of students are accepted. :)

    This year, 2016, marks the twentieth anniversary of Viable Paradise. Twenty. A two followed by a zero. That’s a lot of writers they’ve guided (~480ish!). They’ve put together a reunion the week before VPXX, and I’m going! As part of the whole ‘Twenty Years of Viable Paradise’ thing, they (the organizers) asked for volunteers from past years to write blog posts talking about their experiences, to help the VPXXers be ready for their week in Paradise. :)

    This is one such blog post. And . . . it got a little long. I apologize, but I tend to get very excited and effusive about Viable Paradise. I can go on about it for hours if you let me. Just ask my very, very patient friends. :)

    The rest of this is addressed directly to the twenty-four newly selected students of VPXX.

    So, first things first! Which, I’ve discovered, is the perfect place to put things which are first!

    Impostor Syndrome

    Curse you, my old nemesis! I have it. Chances are, you have it, to some degree. I was absolutely convinced — convinced — that the only reason I got into VP was that they had found twenty-three awesome writers and needed a twenty-fourth person to make up the last place, and they pulled my application out of a hat. Never mind the illogic involved in that. Impostor Syndrome doesn’t do logic.

    Know this, and try to take it to heart: you were selected because of your talent. Your submission was good enough, and you are in because you deserve to be there.

    Taking Notes

    A lot of high-density information is going to be coming at you at relatively high speed. It will be fun information, and you will enjoy the lectures and the symposia and the . . . activities associated with The Horror That Is Thursday™. :) With that in mind, however, you might want to arrange to take a recording device to capture audio to take some of the pressure off of trying to take coherent, detailed written notes. They talk fast. :) A good many of the VPXVIers made recordings, and we have since shared them with one another using DropBox. They’re quite interesting to listen to and remember. I took notes and recorded. The notes consist mostly of bullet points.

    Critiques

    You will get and give critiques. Maybe you’ve had a lot of critiques going into VP (I had), or maybe you’ve had very few or none. Either way, getting critiques from strangers — some of whom will be the instructors — can be a little daunting even if critiquing is old hat to you. One thing to keep in mind: No one there is against you. Or, indeed, your story. Some people may honestly not like it. Some people may gush over it. But all the suggestions, even the ones that might unfortunately be worded harshly or in such a way as to feel pointedly aimed at you and not the story, are done from a place of helping you to make your story the best it can be. To paraphrase Shakespeare (because pretension): “The story’s the thing.”

    So! Try to make your own critiques about the story at hand, not the author, and try to phrase your critique in a way to emphasize what worked for you (and why!) as well as what did not (and why!). Avoid offering ways to fix it; just point out your issues and let the writer figure out the ‘how’ part. You’ll understand after VP. </cryptic> :)

    Epiphanies

    Different things are going to stick with different people. And some of it doesn’t feel like you’re being instructed in writing at all, at the time. One of the instructors was showing us what I then took as just random stuff. Tangentially related — if at all — to the lecture he was giving at the time. But! The point he made when showing us the model house with the hidden, detailed room has stuck with me longer than any single thing any of the instructors said. I think about it almost every time I sit down to write. Your experience will almost certainly be different, and something another instructor says may resonate with you more than what Uncle Jim said does with me.

    Food

    MacAllister Stone. OMG. I cannot say enough effusively wonderful things about Mac. But I’ll try. :) You’ve probably already received the email from her asking about dietary needs. And here’s the thing about Mac: she will take all of those requirements from everyone and come up with a menu that will be remarkably like all the other VP menus, but everyone’s specific needs will be addressed. For dinner, you will eat well. If you’re still concerned (and that is to be understood; I have issues I was very concerned about; see below), my big suggestion is this: ship some “safe” food to yourself at the hotel.

    Dinners are social events at VP, but you’re expected to fend for yourself for breakfast and lunch. Uncle Jim has pancakes and what I’m told (see below) was amazing maple syrup for breakfast. But what I did was to get a box of non-perishable stuff and ship it up to the Island Inn about a week before we were supposed to arrive. When I got there, my box was waiting for me in the office. Cereal I knew to be safe for a diabetic. Stuff for late-night snacks. Whatever you think you’ll need that’s light enough to not cost an arm and a leg to ship, won’t spoil, and that you might need while you’re there. Just ship it and forget it. You will be told that food is expensive on the island (it is), and while they took us directly from the ferry to the grocery store/supermarket before hitting the hotel, I was glad I had shipped certain things from home. I bought perishables. Stuff to make enough lunch for the whole week (I know some people bought bread, peanut butter, and jelly; I got tuna, cheese, noodles, and veggies, and made a casserole.) Every room will (I believe) have at least a stove top, if not an oven. Plan accordingly. :)

    When the week was up, I had some of my shipped stuff left . . . and I just tossed it. It wasn’t worth taking back home. I used all the perishables (milk, eggs, veggies). I had some olive oil left that I think I gave to Mac. :)

    The Staff

    The staff of VP consists of VP alums, for the most part. They’ve been where you are, know how things work, and are there specifically to help you. If you have any problem, seek out a staff member. Feeling overwhelmed? Talk to them. Need a trip to a pharmacy or grocery store? Ask the staff. Need to blow off steam? Go to the staff suite. Want to socialize? Head to the staff suite.

    Special Medical Needs

    This one is aimed at people with specific medical issues. You can skip it if that doesn’t pertain to you. I have a chronic intestinal thing that crops up periodically, and has for more than twenty-five years. It comes with horrible pain and, if left untreated, a visit to an emergency room. My doctor and I go way back, and I can call him up and say, “Doc, I have that thing again,” and he believes my self-diagnosis and phones the pharmacy with a prescription for antibiotics. No wait, no muss, no fuss. Because this thing crops up related to stress and diet, I let him know that I was going to be on Martha’s Vineyard for a week, that I’d be eating food I didn’t have any control over, and that there would be potentially high levels of stress involved. He gave me a prescription for the antibiotics, just in case. You don’t know how much of a load of worry this took off me. If I ate the wrong thing or got too little sleep or whatever, and came down with this issue, I could have missed a day or more of VP dealing with the fallout. As it was, I knew that I could get the medicine in a matter of a couple of hours. So take care of yourself and if you have a medical problem like mine . . . maybe talk to your doctor ahead of time and set something up to ease your mind.

    Socializing

    Now, onto more fun things. :) Socializing! This was something I deeply wish I’d done more of. There were dinners and other times when everyone was together, and I had a great time. I’m very much an introvert (No, really!), and shy around people I don’t know. (Golly! A writer who mostly spends time alone and has problems getting to know people? Go on! ;)) It’s very hard for me to start a conversation with people, even when we have a blindingly obvious thing in common: writing. As a result, I didn’t seek out more socialization. This is the biggest regret I have about VP. I’ve kept in touch with almost everyone from VP to one degree or another. But I barely got to know several of the others, and it’s entirely my own fault, and no reflection on them. So my advice: if possible, get to know those people. They’re your tribe. But, at the same time, you know you better than anyone else does. So take care of yourself, as well. If you need me-time, take it. Everyone will understand. Most of them probably need it, too. :)

    I didn’t partake of any of Uncle Jim’s pancakes and maple syrup because I was worried about my blood sugar. But I could have gone up and joined in the fun, regardless. I went to bed freakishly early (midnight) every night, listening to everyone having a lot of fun upstairs (I was on the lower floor), but I knew (thought?) that I needed a certain amount of sleep or my immune system might compromise and I might get sick . . . but I wish now that I’d just gotten a couple of hours less sleep per night and spent time hanging out. The cold I probably would have gotten the week after would have been worth it. :) But again, you know you, and take care of yourself. People will understand.

    Hikes

    Uncle Jim’s hikes! Again, I didn’t go on any of them because Reasons. Mostly because I felt like I needed that extra hour of sleep rather than getting up and spending an hour walking around Martha’s Freaking Vineyard in October getting a little exercise in the insanely fresh, nippy, early morning air and talking about . . . who knows what? I didn’t go! I have no idea what they talked about. But I’ll bet it was interesting! :) If you can manage at least one morning walk, don’t make the mistake I did. Again with the ‘you know yourself’ caveat.

    Technology

    The Wifi at the Island Inn is . . . there. Mostly. I wouldn’t rely on it too heavily. You won’t have time to be online much, anyway. But just know that if you’re used to lightning-fast network speeds, you’re going to be underwhelmed.

    Bring a memory stick or something along those lines. Something handy to have on you for, say, copying documents on . . . to then dash up to the staff suite for printing . . . in the wee hours of Thursday morning, for instance. </cryptic> Oh, and virus-check the crap out of it. No need to give the staff your nasty computer virus. :)

    Stay An Extra Day

    I know this is something you’ve heard before, but if at all possible for your schedule and your expenses, stay the extra night and leave on Saturday instead of Friday. There is a lot of socializing that goes on that last night, and it’s a lot of fun. Also, since you can’t take home the open bottles of booze, they tend to form a . . . booze buffet, if you will. I did not partake, being a non-drinker, but there was much rejoicing. And music, and just . . . an all-around good time. So if you can, stay until Saturday.

    Anecdote!

    I will close this lengthy post by relating a little story that exemplifies the entire VP Experience™ for me. I smile every time I think about it.

    On Wednesday, a group of us walked into town for lunch. We also spent some time sightseeing. When we walked back, Nicole came dashing out of her room and ran up to us and said, “Quick! I need a way to dispose of a body by burning, but I have to be in the room with it while it burns!” (I’m paraphrasing, here, and I hope Nicole will forgive me if I’ve made her sound not like herself. Or, you know . . . kind of murdery. Which, one hopes, is not like herself. You know, I’m going to stop, now.)

    Now, a random group of people selected off the street might have many reactions to a statement like that, but none of us even blinked. Instead, several people started offering suggestions and asking clarifying questions. “A fire that would consume a body will need to be hot. How big can the room be?” “Do you want the body reduced completely to ash?” “How much time do you have?” Etc. A short discussion ensued, but I didn’t hear most of it. Because I kept walking while grinning to myself. It had just hit me. These people are my tribe. They get me.

    And that is a wonderful feeling to get.

    In Conclusion

    Enjoy yourself. Get drunk (if you drink), but not too drunk. Have some Scurvy Cure. Play silly games. Play poker with Steve-with-a-Hat. Have pancakes. Take walks. Go and see the fireflies of the sea. Tour the town. See the Methodist Munchkin-land. Visit the lighthouse and watch the sunset. Read a dreadful romance out loud. Sing along. Have a beer with Billy. Bring your pajamas. Lament the dreadful, Dreadful, DREADFUL, unexquisite agony of writing. Become a Thing. Join the Mafia. Enjoy the food. Take a binding oath (or two). Seek out the staff if you have problems: that’s what they’re there for.

    And the less said about The Horror That Is Thursday™, the better.

  • Writing

    Roundtable Podcast Showcase Episode Is Up!

    Kat Richardson
    Kat Richardson

    A couple of weeks ago, I wrote a post about how I’d recorded an episode of the Roundtable Podcast. (Follow the link to learn more!) Today, the first of the two resulting episodes is live and ready for you to listen!

    This is Dave Robison’s and Heather Welliver’s interview with Kat Richardson about her background, writing, and processes. Good stuff!

    Next Tuesday, the brainstorming part, with me, will go live. I’ll post then, as well. :)