Fragments of Shadow

I just read an article at io9 called “How to get John Scalzi and David Gerrold to Take a Restraining Order Out On You,” about people sending unsolicited, unproven scripts or stories to writers and the damage that can do to a writer’s career.

Well, duh.

Beyond the normal implication that yes, you are indeed putting the writer in an untenable position with regards to their ability to create things… Seriously, you wouldn’t be contacting this particular writer if you didn’t value their abilities, so why would you want to slap creative shackles around their wrists? If they do anything remotely related to the thing you’ve sent them, something even tangentially related… They do it in the shadow of a potential lawsuit. Yes, you’re a fan. Yes, you would never do anything to hurt your hero – except you already have, and they have no idea how you’ll react when you see their name on a book exploring ideas similar to the ones you sent them. A book that may have been in process for two years before you hit send and heard the little whooshing sound on your mac’s Mail.app. Of course you’re not going to believe “I already thought of that,” even if it’s the logical next step for the characters or the universe.

And here, I could tell give an example of where I’d like to see Scalzi’s Old Man’s War universe go, but I’d rather not guarantee that it doesn’t go there, should he come across this post.

Anyway… Here’s the big thing… Beyond that implication, and I’m sorry to have to say this, but… Who the hell are you? What makes you think you’re important or amazing enough that you should bypass the proper channels and get another writer to put his neck on the line and spend some (or all!) of his cred with his contacts to give you a leg up? If you’re as awesome as you think, you can make it through the gauntlet. If you’re as awesome as you think, you’re better served by following one big rule… Don’t be a douche.

I’m a writer. I have writer friends. We all give each other a head’s up when we can, or cheerlead for one another when something needs doing. I am blessed to have intensely talented and creative friends of all stripes and colors. In fact, I’m blessed to be able to consider one of my absolute favorite writers – someone I admire and look up to, someone whose writing amazes and delights me endlessly – to be a friend. And you know what I’ve never done to her? I would never ask her to slip a story of mine to her agent, or her publisher. I’ve never even asked her to critique something I’ve written before it’s been published.

If you look on my Twitter, I’ve asked for feedback from certain of my other writer friends (Eddy and crew), and I know you’re thinking “the Dude abides, and he sees your hypocrisy.” But it’s not the same. In Eddy’s case, we already have an editorial relationship, and I’d like to think we have that level of trust. That bridge is already there. Of course, if he said he felt uncomfortable with it, I’d have completely understood. Otherwise, it’s an open call for people willing to read it and let me know what I need to fix. I’m not putting anyone on the line who doesn’t volunteer their services.

Back to the point… I know these people and I’m wary of pushing my work on them. What makes it cool to do that to people you don’t even know?

Last night was my first “rehearsal” for the haunted houses this year. Technically it wasn’t a real rehearsal – costume fitting, learning our makeup, and getting the venue tour/becoming acquainted with our positions was the order of the night.

I love working these things. This will be my eighth year at the park, so in a way, it’s like visiting family. Our crew from After Hours was scattered all over the park in new houses and old, but I still got to see and spend time with a lot of friends last night.

I’ve retired my club kid glowboy character, Adam, from After Hours. He probably escaped when Club Muse was raided by the police, and apparently I didn’t. My new part is an inmate on death row. I stand on the gallows, waiting to stretch. What is wrong with you? How can you just walk by and let me die? And they gave me a microphone. This should be fun.

On the way home, I got an almost fully-formed idea for something that needed to be written, so I’ve been working on it all night. I’ll leave you with this little plug for some stuff my friends are doing:

Machine Age Productions: Terminus Est — David A. Hill, Jr. is in the process of building a new open source (Creative Commons) RPG that looks like it’ll be a lot of fun.

The Infi-Net Revolution – Martin C. Henley and Chuck Wendig explore the concept that by their nature, heroes are stupid. As in, a few whores short of a bordello. Also, it’s hilarious.

The Whitechapel Project – Eddy Webb crafts some democratized serial fiction about a man named VI (that’s six, not vee. Please, don’t be difficult, I’d like to get back to work). You can vote to guide the story, which means you can also vote to make life easier for VI or harder for Eddy, whatever floats your boat.

The Red Tree – It’s been out a little over a month now, so you have picked up Caitlín R. Kiernan’s newest novel, right? If you have, and you’re not fond of the cover, you’ll find an alternate cover I designed on her site that you can print out and paste onto your copy. If you haven’t, what the hell? Get out there and feed the tree, people.

The girl floats in darkness, her hair fanning out delicate as seaweed. Her skin is clammy and white, broken by purple bruises like orchids in the snow. She has not been in the black water for long. Ragged cuts line her cheeks and arms, but there is no blood. A flowing dress wraps around her, hiding any further damage. Her arms are bound in front of her at the wrists. Cloudy, color-drained eyes stare up at the moon. Her jaw hangs limply open, and water laps in and out of her mouth.

Languidly, the current of the stream pulls her along, over silt, stone, and shining fish to places she never saw when she was alive. Tree branches reach out with grasping hands as she passes, but the river has her.

Her journey continues.

Something I wrote a few years back. It’s on my LJ, but I wanted to dredge it up and get it on Fragments of Shadow, just ’cause.