The Nebulas are upon us, and if you’re a SFWA member, you’ve got until this Friday, February 15th to vote. Here’s the page for voting.
I’ve got a couple of stories I hope people will consider. One is a short story, “Five Ways to Fall in Love on Planet Porcelain,” which is available in both audio and print form on this page, and the second is a novella, A Seed On the Wind, which you can find uploaded to the SFWA fiction site.
No matter what, if you can, please vote! It’s a requisite if you want to be able to complain about the results later on. 😉
Want access to a lively community of writers and readers, free writing classes, co-working sessions, special speakers, weekly writing games, random pictures and MORE for as little as $2? Check out Cat’s Patreon campaign.
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"(On the writing F&SF workshop) Wanted to crow and say thanks: the first story I wrote after taking your class was my very first sale. Coincidence? nah….thanks so much."
~K. Richardson
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Teaching Writing Online
Will anything other than the words themselves survive?When I first advertised that I’d be teaching an online writing class, Todd Vandermark, the tireless editor of the SFWA blog, mailed me asking if I’d write a blog post about it. Sure, I said — only let me do it first so I have something to write about. I’m two thirds of the way through, and now I’ve got something to say, finally. 🙂
I love teaching online. I feel that I’m connecting with the students in a more meaningful and interesting way than in a once a week, face to face classroom. Through Google+, I can have a channel that is dedicated to the students, which means we’re talking and passing links back and forth throughout the week.
I use Google Hangouts. They are awesome. If you’re never tried them, here’s some basic information. I create a circle for each class, and another that is the students from all classes, and use those. I share the class circle with the class, so they have it as well, and can post to it. If you’re utterly confused by what I’m talking about when I say “circle,” this may be helpful. When I am ready for to a class to start, I open up a Google hangout and share it with the class circle.
The video is smooth in a way that makes me feel that I’m actually in the 21st century. It’s much lower key than I thought it would – after you’ve done it once, some of the nervousness fades away, and it doesn’t feel as though you’re “on stage” in the way one is when in the classroom. There’s been some adjustments with mikes and such, but one thing I did beforehand was have a “dry run” session, where people could log in and confirm that everything was working fine for them. A couple of times we had people participating with audio only — that worked fine. The format also means that people have been able to attend class while on the road – I just finished a session where one participant was logged on from the train station.
Google Hangouts includes a chat window, which I love, because while I’m lecturing, students can be typing questions, comments, and other feedback into the chat, which allows me to then look at it and incorporate it into the flow of the lecture. Instead of writing on the board, I can put things that are particularly important into the chat window. Google+ also allows people to share their work with the group through it, rather than sending out stories to be workshopped via e-mail.
The capability for watching Youtube videos as part of class is there, which is nice, but given the limited amount of time we have in class, I’d rather not use it on that for the most part. Still, I could see using some pieces in class instead of assigning them to be watched outside of it. Here’s some examples of ones I think would work well: Kurt Vonnegut on the shapes of stories, Terry Bisson’s “They’re Made Out of Meat,” Jack Kerouac on writing.
Things that I have learned:
Do a dry run beforehand, so everyone can see the technology in action and iron out any problems. I simply set up a hangout one night the week before the class and had people stop in to confirm they could log in successfully. This was also a nice, low-key way to chat with students beforehand about what they were hoping to get out of the class.
Don’t wait till the last minute to get things set up, because then there will be some microphone issue requiring a reboot.
Have people mute microphones when they’re not using them.
Feed the cats beforehand or else resign yourself to them crawling over you throughout the course of lecture. (May also apply to children and spouses.)
Ask questions beforehand. In prepping a lecture, more than once I’ve asked what questions people have about the topic on a social network and been able to use the answers as part of the lecture.
Be organized. Have your lecture prepared and mapped out ahead of time. I’ve always done this in teaching, but it feels even more crucial when doing it online.
Time expands and contracts according to the number of students. A class with a lot of student will take more time than the section with just a few, so have some back-up exercises that can be inserted into the lecture for that occasion. My notes say what point in time I am supposed to reach each section, so as I go, I can see if I’m running early/late and slow down or speed up accordingly.
No matter how carefully you plan, there will be at least one class where you find yourself at the end too early.
Remember that time zones differ. I have one session that meets early to accomodate the East Coasters, another that holds most of my West Coasters, and a Saturday that ranges all over the map. Next session I’ve got someone who’ll be attending at 1 a.m. his time, which I think speaks volumes for the lack of availability of such classes internationally.
It’s not for everyone. A few find the format anxiety-producing. But once you’ve tried it, it’s a lot smoother and easier than you might suspect, and god know videochatting’s not a trend that is going to go away so you might as well learn how to do.
I’m hoping to make the classes a regular part of how I make my income, and I still need some sign-ups for the upcoming batch, so I’m going to extend the special rate through midnight mext Friday. Here’s the details for those classes – please spread the word!
Working Away Plus Teaser from "Paladin of Anger, Paladin of Peace"
Act 4I am grimly determined to finish Hearts of Tabat before the end of this year: I have my list of scenes and will get them finished by November 15, then crunch through a quick and hasty polish and get that to beta readers. At the same time I’m working on a couple of bespoke stories, several collaborations, and a few stories for Patreon.
Here’s a piece from this morning’s work on a Tabat story that is somewhat connected to the events in Hoofsore and Weary, which appeared in Shattered Shields.
This is how I first saw the Red Paladin.
She must have just entered the city, because her scarlet armor was dulled with dust, and her horse’s head drooped.
Mother had elbowed and fought her way to getting us a booth near the market’s entrance that day, and she was battling to sell every brick of spice we had before going home, despite the fact she could have summoned a servant to do it. She was doing it as some small battle in the endless war between my parents and when I paused to watch the paladin pass, my mother’s hand clipped me across the ear, hard enough to rock my head and feel the snap of blood rising to meet the place she’d struck.
“Stop gawping and bring me more sacks,” she snapped, and sent me racing on her errand, running under the beat of the hot sun and knowing I’d be hard-pressed to get back in time to satisfy her, but even so my soul rocketed out as I dashed through a crowd of tea-pigeons and sent them startled upwards, feeling the press of her attention lessened for a little while.
The image of the paladin, her head upright underneath the masking helmet, the slight curves of her armor the only thing marking her female, stayed with me.
She looked so calm for a knight sworn to Anger.
***
The second time I saw the paladin, I was pretending I was someone else while I walked through the gardens. I pretended I was a noble’s daughter, raised only to think of her own pleasure, not worrying about obligation or responsibility. I could do that because my little brothers were playing tag on the long grass and I could watch them from a distance but pretend that I wasn’t in any way connected with them. I sat on a bench made out of iron spirals and coils and flowers, one of the old-fashioned kind, in the shade and tried to make pieces of myself loosen out.
I tried to do this every few days because otherwise ““ and sometimes even with ““ I would wake up aching as though I’d been beaten, my jaw clenched tight, chased by nightmares through endless passageway toward waiting red rooms, doors mawed with teeth and fleshy silence eating any protest I might make.
But pushing to relax is something you cannot do and finally I just sat and appreciated the sunlight, hoping I’d feel all those pieces of me unclench. It had gotten so much worse lately, with both parents worrying about marriage-brokering (my mother’s thought) or apprenticeship (my father’s) or both, but never my thought of neither.
My most recent publication is “Marvelous Contrivances of the Heart”, which appears in Recycled Pulp, edited by John Helfers. It’s a story where I tried to hearken back to an old, twilight-zoneish theme while refurbishing some bits to update it some. I’ll be curious to hear what people think.
If you’ve read Beasts of Tabat and liked it, please consider leaving a review on Amazon, GoodReads, or LibraryThing.
