For the past week, I’ve been mapping out the work I need to do for the rest of the year. Suddenly, I have a lot on my plate – or rather, I should say that I have the same amount on my plate as before, but a good portion of it is no longer on-spec but a deliverable. The manuscript for the Lethe Press collection is due December 1: half of the ms will be reprints, and the rest will be “original to the collection”. I’d already decided to attempt (once again) to write a novel this year – it’s pretty imperative that I do this, as I honestly don’t think I’ll ever have any kind of career as a writer until I have a novel published – and I DO want a full-fledged career, not some perpetual shadow-existence on the periphery of everything. (For those offended by this, understand that I’m not trying to slight short fiction writing careers – I’m saying I don’t have the levels of sheer genius and talent required to make it on short fiction first or alone. I am no Kelly Link/Jay Lake/Mary Robinette Kowal/Ted Chiang – few writers are, and that’s just the way it is.)
So, the rest of the year will be spent working on the short stories and novella due for the collection, and writing an approx. 120k novel. (I’ve also got a few short stories to finish for specific anthologies – those will be worked on throughout the year as the due dates approach.) To be honest, I’d really been looking forward to working on the three novellas I’ve set in the same Lovecraftian world as “Take Your Daughters” and “Her Deepness”, but I don’t think there’s currently a market for them, so they’ll be put on hold. The collection and novel have to come first. I’ll probably put up little weekly progress bars and the like, with an occasional excerpt.
Later on in the year I’m going to change the website around. As much as I love the design, it’s time for something new. And the very outdated “excerpt” page will be turned into “Free Fiction” with PDF’s of stories, including a hilariously bad horror story from my freshman year in college (which I rediscovered a couple of years ago in a box of old papers). Podcasting stories will have to wait until I have the money for a microphone – and maybe an apartment that doesn’t constantly sound like it’s about to fall down around my ears. Besides, I can’t imagine finishing a podcast without screaming “OMG SPIDERS – WHAT IS THAT SQUIRREL DOING – ANTS ANTS ANTS!!” Yes, podcasting should wait. 