I am a RITA finalist for The Spymaster's Lady in the Historical Romance category. I'm a finalist for My Lord and Spymaster in the Regency Historical category.
Two Finals.
I am so happy and excited my stomach hurts. This is Exactly like the birthday party where you get the electronic game you wanted and eat six pieces of cake and then throw up, except that you have to buy a long black dress too.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
An Outtake from MLAS
Martha, in the comment trail, asked about scenes that don't make it into the final book.
As a generality, there are Good Reasons why scenes quietly disappear from the ms before the Editor ever sees them.
The scene is boring.
Or it twiddles off down a line of minor plotting, instead of telling the love story.
Or it is talking heads conveying information.
Or all three.
Here below is a scene that got written
and then a draft or two later got grubbed up by the roots and tossed out.
The scene is not dreadful in and of itself. It explains why Jess, (our heroine in MLAS,) is knee deep in kimchee with the British Government.
But we do not write scenes to 'explain things'.
The stage action I kept, because I need the little jigsaw piece of scene to transition from one place to another. The action shows up, much modified, in MLAS as pages 152 to 158. But the version that hit the book is all about the love story instead of suspense plot and intrigue.
Below, you're looking at Second Draft work, not Final Draft work.
There's lots of awkwardness and bad phrasing.
And I've left in my 'notes to myself'.
*************** See the out-take here ******************
It begins ....
Adrian was propped against the wall in the stuffy closet they used as a listening post, reading from a black, bound notebook. He crooked a finger in invitation and kept reading. "Close the door."
There wasn't room for three in the cubbyhole. He slid in behind the table, the rack of pistols on the wall poking into his back. Trevor, the spy in training, sat at the table, his ear pressed to a brass ear trumpet that emerged from the wall and wrote, scribbling fast. The only light in the room came from the dark lantern at his elbow. Three sides of that were closed, the fourth open. In the bright oblong it cast, his pencil made a manic, dancing shadow across the page. Three books, like the one Adrian held, lay to his left. Another dozen were stacked and ready.
This was where the British Service watched and listened to what went on in the library. Jess was right -- the walls were full of rats.
... and it ends ....
"You and Josiah are playing games. Jess isn't."
"Then it's time she did." Adrian was still a moment. "Josiah knows what I am. Eventually, Jess will. Do you know, there are times I do not find being Head of Section at all amusing. Shut up, now. When I open this they can hear us."
****************
As a generality, there are Good Reasons why scenes quietly disappear from the ms before the Editor ever sees them.
The scene is boring.
Or it twiddles off down a line of minor plotting, instead of telling the love story.
Or it is talking heads conveying information.
Or all three.
Here below is a scene that got written
and then a draft or two later got grubbed up by the roots and tossed out.
The scene is not dreadful in and of itself. It explains why Jess, (our heroine in MLAS,) is knee deep in kimchee with the British Government.
But we do not write scenes to 'explain things'.
The stage action I kept, because I need the little jigsaw piece of scene to transition from one place to another. The action shows up, much modified, in MLAS as pages 152 to 158. But the version that hit the book is all about the love story instead of suspense plot and intrigue.
Below, you're looking at Second Draft work, not Final Draft work.
There's lots of awkwardness and bad phrasing.
And I've left in my 'notes to myself'.
*************** See the out-take here ******************
It begins ....
Adrian was propped against the wall in the stuffy closet they used as a listening post, reading from a black, bound notebook. He crooked a finger in invitation and kept reading. "Close the door."
There wasn't room for three in the cubbyhole. He slid in behind the table, the rack of pistols on the wall poking into his back. Trevor, the spy in training, sat at the table, his ear pressed to a brass ear trumpet that emerged from the wall and wrote, scribbling fast. The only light in the room came from the dark lantern at his elbow. Three sides of that were closed, the fourth open. In the bright oblong it cast, his pencil made a manic, dancing shadow across the page. Three books, like the one Adrian held, lay to his left. Another dozen were stacked and ready.
This was where the British Service watched and listened to what went on in the library. Jess was right -- the walls were full of rats.
... and it ends ....
"You and Josiah are playing games. Jess isn't."
"Then it's time she did." Adrian was still a moment. "Josiah knows what I am. Eventually, Jess will. Do you know, there are times I do not find being Head of Section at all amusing. Shut up, now. When I open this they can hear us."
****************
Monday, March 23, 2009
Women's costume 1794 France, shifts and nightshifts
Consider Shifts
A shift is what we'd call a 'slip' in the US. The shift lay next to the skin and protected the wearer from the roughness of the outer garments . It protected the expensive outer garments from the body. It was cheaper to replace than the outer clothing, and the shift was washable.
The shift, for all of the Eighteenth Century is a simple garment, cut loose, straight, and ungathered, going to about the knee. It closed at the neck with a drawstring or was bound with a band.
Here to the right is an extant shift in the Boston Museum of Fine Arts. Drawstring neck. The little ruffles on the sleeve, IMO, would have been intended to show beneath a tight-fitting sleeve on the dress or caraco. This is made in England or France, late C18 to early C19.
Here's an example of a modern reproduction mid-C18 shift being worn.
A difference between how we regard underwear in C21 and Eighteenth Century is that a shift -- underwear -- was often intended to be seen. It was meant to show beneath the jacket or vest or the neckline of the dress.
(This is a screen capture from the latest remake of The Scarlet Pimpernel, included here under Fair Use for comment and review.)
This left the heavy work of concealing the bosom to the fichu.
Here we got a caricature from just after 1794. This is not reliable as to what was actually worn, but it does illustrate a point about the length of the shift.
Vintage Textile says of the shift above:
With time and multiple washings, the linen has whitened and softened. The neckline and sleeve edges are trimmed with hand-embroidered scallops. The chemise has a hand-embroidered, monogrammed "AF" in front.
Chemises, particularly in pattern catalogues, are picture flat so that you can see how they are cut. The triangular side panels in the flat pictures give the impression that the chemise stands out from the body on the side. In fact these side panels push the front and back into graceful bias folds.
There was a slow movment towards cotton for underclothing as cotton got cheaper in the early C19. Perception of linen in shirts and underwear changed. By the time we get to Beau Brummel ... linen was a more upperclass/stylish fabric than cotton. In 1794, linen would probably have been the fabric of choice, but without the same class
The English word 'shift' fell into disfavor after 1800. 'Shift' became regarded as old-fashioned and somewhat coarse. The snazzier French 'chemise' sneaked in to take its place. That's what we did in English for a century or two ... tossed out perfectly good English words and invited French hussies in.
Women's nightclothes closely followed the design of the shift. In fact, one could be used for the other, pretty much.
Considering England's -- or France's -- climate, your heroine would be an idiot if she didn't put on some kind of a robe or peignoir so she don't get all clammy and freezing even before the villain has a chance to kidnap her.
The hero seeing your heroine in her nightshift takes on a whole new meaning when you stop picturing it as a floor-length, high-necked Victorian nightdress with 57 little pearl buttons up the front.
Wheatly gives us Mrs Wheatly Asleep. Close to the 1790s I think. The night cap Mrs. Wheatly is wearing -- see how fancy -- is part of the whole going-to-sleep ensemble.
Here's Blanchet, Perils of Love: Julia Seeks Solace with her Cat above. Again, a bit before 1794, but probably similar to what women were wearing in the decade.
This is Regnault, La Nuit.
And Boucher's famous L'Odalisque is wearing a 1745 shift. It's here, click at the site for a closer view. See the low neckline, mid-length sleeves, and the not-too-long length.
Night shifts, like shifts, were white or just off-white, made of cotton and linen.
Not silk. Sorry.
A shift is what we'd call a 'slip' in the US. The shift lay next to the skin and protected the wearer from the roughness of the outer garments . It protected the expensive outer garments from the body. It was cheaper to replace than the outer clothing, and the shift was washable.
The shift, for all of the Eighteenth Century is a simple garment, cut loose, straight, and ungathered, going to about the knee. It closed at the neck with a drawstring or was bound with a band.
The early C18 shift might be somewhat fuller than this example above. After 1785-ish, when the round gown and dresses of thin fabric became popular, the shift began to be cut closer to the body so as not to disturb the line of the dress -- something that wasn't a problem with the robe à l'Anglais or the simple jupe and caraco. The sleeves of the shift, which had been longer and fuller in the first half of the Eighteenth Century, became close fitting or short.
Here's an example of a modern reproduction mid-C18 shift being worn.
A difference between how we regard underwear in C21 and Eighteenth Century is that a shift -- underwear -- was often intended to be seen. It was meant to show beneath the jacket or vest or the neckline of the dress.
See , to the right.
I wouldn't go to the stake on the details of this. It looks fairly fancy, compared to the extant examples. Anyhow, what you got here is a C18 chemise being worn over front-fastening stays, and showing at the top.
(The opening scene of the movie, btw, is her getting dressed in petticoat, caraco and jupe, which is interesting to watch. Reminds me of the dressing scene in Les Liaisons Dangereuses. )
The neckline of the dress or caraco was cut low by our standards. This means the shift underneath was cut low too. The neckline of the shift tended to come just an inch or so above the stays, as it does in the picture above.
This left the heavy work of concealing the bosom to the fichu.
The shift wasn't a full-length garment down trailing in the mud and showing lace at the bottom when the dress blew up in the wind. A petticoat or underskirt might do that, but not the shift. The shift was short. You wouldn't see a shift if you raised your skirts some to step over a puddle.
Below we got us some delightful pictures of an extant shift from Vintage Textile which is at home here. This particular shift is listed as 1820 to 1830, but it's similar to what you would have seen in 1790s.
Vintage Textile says of the shift above:
Our chemise is fashioned from coarse linen and is completely hand sewn.
With time and multiple washings, the linen has whitened and softened. The neckline and sleeve edges are trimmed with hand-embroidered scallops. The chemise has a hand-embroidered, monogrammed "AF" in front.
Chemises, particularly in pattern catalogues, are picture flat so that you can see how they are cut. The triangular side panels in the flat pictures give the impression that the chemise stands out from the body on the side. In fact these side panels push the front and back into graceful bias folds.
A late-C18-to-early-C19 shift would be made of linen or cotton. In 1794, it would probably linen for the middle and lower class. Good quality cotton was still a luxury material in France.
There was a slow movment towards cotton for underclothing as cotton got cheaper in the early C19. Perception of linen in shirts and underwear changed. By the time we get to Beau Brummel ... linen was a more upperclass/stylish fabric than cotton. In 1794, linen would probably have been the fabric of choice, but without the same class
The English word 'shift' fell into disfavor after 1800. 'Shift' became regarded as old-fashioned and somewhat coarse. The snazzier French 'chemise' sneaked in to take its place. That's what we did in English for a century or two ... tossed out perfectly good English words and invited French hussies in.
Nightclothes
WARNING: Partial nudity below.
Women's nightclothes closely followed the design of the shift. In fact, one could be used for the other, pretty much.
There are differences The examples of nightshifts I've come across seem to have 3/4 or long sleeves and the shifts of late C18 don't. The nightshifts are often mid-calf length or longer, rather than more knee-ish. So the nightshifts were a specialized garment, similar to but not identical with the shift.
Note the low neckline on these nightshifts below. If that neck isn't tied up carefully with its ribbon or drawstring, the breasts get loose and go showing themselves.
The nightshifts are longer than the shift, but still only mid-calf length. You heroine wouldn't need to hold her hem up as she crept down the stairs, trembling, with a candle in her hand, investigating the noise.
Considering England's -- or France's -- climate, your heroine would be an idiot if she didn't put on some kind of a robe or peignoir so she don't get all clammy and freezing even before the villain has a chance to kidnap her.
The hero seeing your heroine in her nightshift takes on a whole new meaning when you stop picturing it as a floor-length, high-necked Victorian nightdress with 57 little pearl buttons up the front. This is Baudouin, Le Lever. A bit before our period.
Wheatly gives us Mrs Wheatly Asleep. Close to the 1790s I think. The night cap Mrs. Wheatly is wearing -- see how fancy -- is part of the whole going-to-sleep ensemble.
This is Regnault, La Nuit.
And Boucher's famous L'Odalisque is wearing a 1745 shift. It's here, click at the site for a closer view. See the low neckline, mid-length sleeves, and the not-too-long length.
Admittedly, these particular nightshifts are painted largely for an excuse to show off skin, but it does look like nightshifts dipped low at the neck.
Night shifts, like shifts, were white or just off-white, made of cotton and linen.
Not silk. Sorry.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Couple of MLAS Q & A
Kind reader, Eva, writes with some questions about My Lord and Spymaster. I thought I'd bring 'em out and talk about them here. (She says it's ok.)
Eva writes: First- did Adrian ever have feelings for Jess? I can't tell if he views her as merely a friend or a woman that he believes is off-limits to him but has secretly lusted after.
When Adrian first knew Jess, she was only twelve. He was about twenty. Eight years is a huge barrier at that age.
In a way, Adrian never 'reset' that distance between them. Even when she's grown, he sees her as 'the child grown up.'
The original relationship between them would have been . . . smart-mouthed preteen and her very cool uncle or Olympic hopeful and the silver-medallist who's coaching her.
That is to say ... close, but never sexual.
Eva writes: Is Annique the only Frenchwoman that he claims to have loved?
We haven't met Adrian's woman yet.
I think she's going to turn up in Maggie's story.
Eva writes: By the way, I am seriously waiting on pins and needles for Adrian's story...... Hint, hint ;)
I plan to start Adrian's story as soon as I finish up the Maggie manuscript. That'll be early in 2010.
I haven't the least idea what I'm going to write.
Ah well, we wrestle only one alligator at a time.
Eva writes: what role has Eunice played before she began rescuing women? Was she a spy as well? Why is she protected by Lazarus? You drop sooo many hints about her but I'm just not sure if I'm putting the pieces together in the correct way.....
Leesee ...
Eunice is the daughter of a duke. (That's why she's 'Lady Eunice'.)
She was married at sixteen to a very unpleasant man, twice her age, who physically and emotionally brutalized her. He obliged everyone by dying when she was twenty-five.
(May we speculate that she helped him to his reward? That would be so satisfying.)
Eunice was left a widow with a miniscule income, an irreconcilable split from her family, and a burning desire to right the world's wrongs. By sheer force of will, she became a power in charitable London. Check out any well-run orphanage or home for wayward women; she's probably on the Board of Directors.
Standish is the love of her life.
(How could he be otherwise?)
She met him when she was in her late thirties and long past any thought of falling in love with anyone. He was doing a 'dig' of a Roman site in a ditch in East London. When they met, he was firmly -- if somewhat ineffectively -- protecting his pottery shards from the local disadvantaged youths who were sure he'd uncovered gold.
As to Eunice and Lazarus.
Eunice amuses Lazarus, which is reason enough for him to let her play in his part of town.
There's some practical reasons as well.
When he identifies himself with a force that brings food, clothing and medical care into his territory, Lazarus plays the good guy, and wins approval in the hood. That's the same reason he protects the Reverend.
Also, Lazarus doesn't want the daughter of a duke killed on his turf. He's tolerated by the authorities, in part, because he keeps that sort of thing to a minimum.
He finds Eunice useful as an object lesson. Having a place girls can run to is a salutary lesson to pimps who batter the merchandise.
And when he protects Eunice, Lazarus places a limit on the power of the most brutal and stupid of his gang. She becomes, symbolically, his power to do any damn thing he wants. It's a symbol that costs little to maintain since she's already well protected by her connection to the British aristocracy and, in later years, by Sebastian.
I think Lazarus is maybe a little cowed by Lady Eunice. She's intimidating when she sets her mind to it.
Now Eunice was never a spy. She's a flaming radical and has dicey intellectual ties all over France, but she's not really a political animal. She's a hands-on, practical sort.
Because of these ties, she's an excellent source of what we'd now call intelligence. She's first to hear the latest intellectual news from Paris. She's on an in-your-face framiliarity with half the criminal element of London. And she's related to everyone powerful in and out of government in England. (She's Galba's second cousin on his mother's side.)
Meeks Street uses her when they need a safe place for women who are hurt or on the run. She's willing to provide introductions to British Service agents who need to move into the fringes of the 'ton'.
Eva writes: why is there so much animosity\anger between Josiah and Lazarus? Aren't they related?
Josiah and Lazarus came to London as young men to seek their fortune. They worked together, getting rich and trusting each other and being rivals a little bit.
What drove them apart was Jess' mother. Lazarus had her. Josiah took her away.
After some serious conflict, they patched up an uneasy tolerance. For years, Lazarus envied Josiah his little family. Envied him the extraordinary child that Jess became.
Then Josiah was out of the picture. Lazarus stepped in.
In the years she was with him, Lazarus was training Jess to be a master thief and part of his gang. Someday, if she got strong enough and mean enough, he would have made her his successor. He thought of all this as 'teaching her the trade.'
He's not a nice man, but he wished her well. He loved her in his way. And because he loved her and the world is a dangerous place, he didn't cut her any slack when it came to following the apprenticeship he'd set her.
Family quarrels are the bitterest. But it's still family. Despite his words, Lazarus wouldn't have let Josiah hang. He helped Jess when she came to him. He would have intervened more directly if Josiah had actually come to trial.
Now ... as to why he scared her to death when she came to him for help ...
Jess betrayed him. She chose Josiah instead of him. He's pissed off at her, and he's hurt.
From a practical standpoint -- Lazarus is good at seeing things like this -- Jess isn't really safe walking the streets of London unless she's a true part of his 'gang' again. He can't just decree that she is. He needs to sell it to his people. Her fight with Badger is a 're-initiation' into the gang. It is the ordeal that transforms her from spoiled-aristocrat-outsider-who-deserted-us into 'one-of-us'.
And ... Ummm ... wandering into deep theoretical, pseudo-literary territory here ...
Jess' return to the padding ken is a symbolic death and rebirth. Lazarus (the name indicates rebirth from death ......) is the past that must be conquered and reconciled with. She makes this passage through the underworld in the company of Sebastian, (who is named after the saint who restored sight and speech and freed prisoners.)
Eva writes: And the woman who Lazarus had hostage until she was practically in labor- does he actually care for her? Why did she go back to him with the baby?
Second question first. She went back to Lazarus because women are such fools.
First question. Yes. Lazarus does love her.
We only see one moment of a long, tumultuous relationship, and we only see if from the outside.
She's going to 'reform' Lazarus in the end, I think, and he'll call her 'Fuffy' even when she's old and grey. They end up in Baltimore, become respectable, and their many descendents brag about their aristocratic roots.
If only they knew
Eva writes: I truly loved MLAS but I would have liked another intense, passionate scene between Jess and Sebastion.
I wish I'd had a little more time with MLAS. I write slowly, and there's stuff I didn't have time to get quite entirely right. I would have liked another sex scene, too.
Eva writes: firmly believe your books would make fantastic movies.
From your lips to Hollywood's ears ...
Eva writes: First- did Adrian ever have feelings for Jess? I can't tell if he views her as merely a friend or a woman that he believes is off-limits to him but has secretly lusted after.
When Adrian first knew Jess, she was only twelve. He was about twenty. Eight years is a huge barrier at that age.
In a way, Adrian never 'reset' that distance between them. Even when she's grown, he sees her as 'the child grown up.'
The original relationship between them would have been . . . smart-mouthed preteen and her very cool uncle or Olympic hopeful and the silver-medallist who's coaching her.
That is to say ... close, but never sexual.
Eva writes: Is Annique the only Frenchwoman that he claims to have loved?
We haven't met Adrian's woman yet.
I think she's going to turn up in Maggie's story.
Eva writes: By the way, I am seriously waiting on pins and needles for Adrian's story...... Hint, hint ;)
I plan to start Adrian's story as soon as I finish up the Maggie manuscript. That'll be early in 2010.
I haven't the least idea what I'm going to write.
Ah well, we wrestle only one alligator at a time.
Eva writes: what role has Eunice played before she began rescuing women? Was she a spy as well? Why is she protected by Lazarus? You drop sooo many hints about her but I'm just not sure if I'm putting the pieces together in the correct way.....
Leesee ...
Eunice is the daughter of a duke. (That's why she's 'Lady Eunice'.)
She was married at sixteen to a very unpleasant man, twice her age, who physically and emotionally brutalized her. He obliged everyone by dying when she was twenty-five.
(May we speculate that she helped him to his reward? That would be so satisfying.)
Eunice was left a widow with a miniscule income, an irreconcilable split from her family, and a burning desire to right the world's wrongs. By sheer force of will, she became a power in charitable London. Check out any well-run orphanage or home for wayward women; she's probably on the Board of Directors.
Standish is the love of her life.
(How could he be otherwise?)
She met him when she was in her late thirties and long past any thought of falling in love with anyone. He was doing a 'dig' of a Roman site in a ditch in East London. When they met, he was firmly -- if somewhat ineffectively -- protecting his pottery shards from the local disadvantaged youths who were sure he'd uncovered gold.
As to Eunice and Lazarus.
Eunice amuses Lazarus, which is reason enough for him to let her play in his part of town.
There's some practical reasons as well.
When he identifies himself with a force that brings food, clothing and medical care into his territory, Lazarus plays the good guy, and wins approval in the hood. That's the same reason he protects the Reverend.
Also, Lazarus doesn't want the daughter of a duke killed on his turf. He's tolerated by the authorities, in part, because he keeps that sort of thing to a minimum.
He finds Eunice useful as an object lesson. Having a place girls can run to is a salutary lesson to pimps who batter the merchandise.
And when he protects Eunice, Lazarus places a limit on the power of the most brutal and stupid of his gang. She becomes, symbolically, his power to do any damn thing he wants. It's a symbol that costs little to maintain since she's already well protected by her connection to the British aristocracy and, in later years, by Sebastian.
I think Lazarus is maybe a little cowed by Lady Eunice. She's intimidating when she sets her mind to it.
Now Eunice was never a spy. She's a flaming radical and has dicey intellectual ties all over France, but she's not really a political animal. She's a hands-on, practical sort.
Because of these ties, she's an excellent source of what we'd now call intelligence. She's first to hear the latest intellectual news from Paris. She's on an in-your-face framiliarity with half the criminal element of London. And she's related to everyone powerful in and out of government in England. (She's Galba's second cousin on his mother's side.)
Meeks Street uses her when they need a safe place for women who are hurt or on the run. She's willing to provide introductions to British Service agents who need to move into the fringes of the 'ton'.
Eva writes: why is there so much animosity\anger between Josiah and Lazarus? Aren't they related?
Josiah and Lazarus came to London as young men to seek their fortune. They worked together, getting rich and trusting each other and being rivals a little bit.
What drove them apart was Jess' mother. Lazarus had her. Josiah took her away.
After some serious conflict, they patched up an uneasy tolerance. For years, Lazarus envied Josiah his little family. Envied him the extraordinary child that Jess became.
Then Josiah was out of the picture. Lazarus stepped in.
In the years she was with him, Lazarus was training Jess to be a master thief and part of his gang. Someday, if she got strong enough and mean enough, he would have made her his successor. He thought of all this as 'teaching her the trade.'
He's not a nice man, but he wished her well. He loved her in his way. And because he loved her and the world is a dangerous place, he didn't cut her any slack when it came to following the apprenticeship he'd set her.
Family quarrels are the bitterest. But it's still family. Despite his words, Lazarus wouldn't have let Josiah hang. He helped Jess when she came to him. He would have intervened more directly if Josiah had actually come to trial.
Now ... as to why he scared her to death when she came to him for help ...
Jess betrayed him. She chose Josiah instead of him. He's pissed off at her, and he's hurt.
From a practical standpoint -- Lazarus is good at seeing things like this -- Jess isn't really safe walking the streets of London unless she's a true part of his 'gang' again. He can't just decree that she is. He needs to sell it to his people. Her fight with Badger is a 're-initiation' into the gang. It is the ordeal that transforms her from spoiled-aristocrat-outsider-who-deserted-us into 'one-of-us'.
And ... Ummm ... wandering into deep theoretical, pseudo-literary territory here ...
Jess' return to the padding ken is a symbolic death and rebirth. Lazarus (the name indicates rebirth from death ...
Eva writes: And the woman who Lazarus had hostage until she was practically in labor- does he actually care for her? Why did she go back to him with the baby?
Second question first. She went back to Lazarus because women are such fools.
First question. Yes. Lazarus does love her.
We only see one moment of a long, tumultuous relationship, and we only see if from the outside.
She's going to 'reform' Lazarus in the end, I think, and he'll call her 'Fuffy' even when she's old and grey. They end up in Baltimore, become respectable, and their many descendents brag about their aristocratic roots.
If only they knew
Eva writes: I truly loved MLAS but I would have liked another intense, passionate scene between Jess and Sebastion.
I wish I'd had a little more time with MLAS. I write slowly, and there's stuff I didn't have time to get quite entirely right. I would have liked another sex scene, too.
Eva writes: firmly believe your books would make fantastic movies.
From your lips to Hollywood's ears ...
The problem with writing . . .
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Da Bwaha
Dear Author and Smart Bitches are Romance review sites where they talk about Romance and genre books. They hold a competition for the fans every year -- the melliflously-named Da Bwaha.
In Da Bwaha, folks pick the 2008 book they like best.
They also pick the book they think is going to win the competition.
This is two processes.
Separate processes.
(See the diagram to the right for the philosophical overview.)
Apparently in sports competitions there is a kinda bracket thingum to show eliminations in different rounds.
(see bracket to the right.
Daunting, isn't it?
This is used by jocks, though, so it cannot be too hard.)
Da Bwaha does this for books.
It is very clever of them.
Part One of Da Bwaha works like this:
Folks use a set of those brackets to guess which book is likely to be the more popular
when it goes mano a mano
against another other book.
(Last year I couldn't figure out how it worked. This year I figured it out.)
I am getting smarter and smarter.
If you want to enter the elimination tournament and take a guess as to who is going to win the popular vote, you go here.
You have to do this before Wednesday March 18, which is three days from now.
If you want to vote for the books you like
you have to register before March 18.
I think.
(Ahh ... you may have to switch to firefox and disable scripts and light a votive candle to make the site work. I know I did.)
Anyhow, when you finally get to the page to load -- which may work first shot, who knows? -- you go to the left column and pick your favorite from each of the pairs.
Your pick will just automatically show up on the next round competition
which is in a box just to the right.
Then you pick favorites in that second round box.
There are six rounds and you keep picking till you get to the end.
-- Then you go to the top right and put in your handle and your e-mail address.
-- Finally, you go down to the bottom of the page and click where it says, 'select picks'.
This allows you to move on to
(Remember, I told you there were two parts.)
Part Two:
which starts on March 19, which is next Thursday.
You will be able to pick the books you actually like.
That voting will take place here.
You have to register to do this. I don't know what the deadline for registration is. But I think it is March 18.
Here are the books
I would say that is a lot of books,
but they are all -- at least all the ones I've read -- great books.
(cough) I'm in there, about halfway down. (/cough)
Edited to add --
I just wanted to add something really neat that I just discovered about that list of books and writers above.
Bit of background: In lots of writer websites, if you click on the link you can go to Amazon and buy their book and the author makes a couple small coins of money.
Enough to take the kid out for a popsicle maybe.
Writers operate mostly on what is technically called 'a small profit margin' or 'no appreciable money at all', so the price of a popsicle is welcome.
When you put up a link to somebody's book, you can send folks to their website,
(and the author maybe ultimately makes a trickle more profit on their book,)
or you can send folks straight to Amazon,
(and you make the little trickle of profit.)
You see that list above?
Dear Author and Smart Bitches have linked to the author websites.
In Da Bwaha, folks pick the 2008 book they like best.
They also pick the book they think is going to win the competition.
This is two processes.
Separate processes.
(See the diagram to the right for the philosophical overview.)
Apparently in sports competitions there is a kinda bracket thingum to show eliminations in different rounds.
(see bracket to the right.
Daunting, isn't it?
This is used by jocks, though, so it cannot be too hard.)
Da Bwaha does this for books.
It is very clever of them.
Part One of Da Bwaha works like this:
Folks use a set of those brackets to guess which book is likely to be the more popular
when it goes mano a mano
against another other book.
(Last year I couldn't figure out how it worked. This year I figured it out.)
I am getting smarter and smarter.
If you want to enter the elimination tournament and take a guess as to who is going to win the popular vote, you go here.
You have to do this before Wednesday March 18, which is three days from now.
If you want to vote for the books you like
you have to register before March 18.
I think.
(Ahh ... you may have to switch to firefox and disable scripts and light a votive candle to make the site work. I know I did.)
Anyhow, when you finally get to the page to load -- which may work first shot, who knows? -- you go to the left column and pick your favorite from each of the pairs.
Your pick will just automatically show up on the next round competition
which is in a box just to the right.
Then you pick favorites in that second round box.
There are six rounds and you keep picking till you get to the end.
-- Then you go to the top right and put in your handle and your e-mail address.
-- Finally, you go down to the bottom of the page and click where it says, 'select picks'.
This allows you to move on to
(Remember, I told you there were two parts.)
Part Two:
which starts on March 19, which is next Thursday.
You will be able to pick the books you actually like.
That voting will take place here.
You have to register to do this. I don't know what the deadline for registration is. But I think it is March 18.
Here are the books
- You Know Where to Find Me by Rachel Cohn
- The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins
- Graceling by Kristin Cashore
- On the Jellicoe Road by Melina Marchetta
- Audrey, Wait! by Robin Benway
- Need by Carrie Jones
- My Most Excellent Year by Steve Kluger
- Impossible by Nancy Werlin
- Flat Out Sexy by Erin McCarthy
- Blue Eyed Devil by Lisa Kleypas
- Just One of the Guys by Kristan Higgins
- Scream for Me by Karen Rose
- Tribute by Nora Roberts
- A Virgin River Christmas by Robyn Carr
- Blame it on Paris by Jennifer Greene
- Unlawful Contact by Pamela Clare
- Hidden by Eve Kenin
- Pleasure Unbound by Larissa Ione
- Cry Wolf by Patricia Briggs
- Mine to Possess by Nalini Singh
- Demon Bound by Meljean Brook
- The Darkest Pleasure by Gena Showalter
- King of Sword and Sky by CL Wilson
- Dark Desires After Dusk by Kresley Cole
- elicious by Sherry Thomas
- Private Arrangements by Sherry Thomas
- The Spymasters’ Lady by Joanna Bourne
- Duke of Shadows by Meredith Duran
- Your Scandalous Ways by Loretta Chase
- Price of Desire by Jo Goodman
- Broken Wing by Judith James
- A Lady’s Secret by Jo Beverly
- A Christmas Wedding by Tracy Wolff
- Public Scandal, Private Mistress by Susan Napier
- The Chef’s Choice by Kristin Hardy
- Unleashed by Lo
- he Money Man’s Seduction by Leslie La Foy
- Redeeming Gabriel by Elizabeth White
- Shaken and Stirred by Kathleen O’Reilly
- His Secret Past by Ellen Hartman
- Wicked Burn by Beth Kery
- The Mark of the Vampire Queen by Joey Hill
- Seduced by Magic by Stephanie Julian
- Show and Tell by Jasmine Haynes
- Undercover by Lauren Dane
- Be With Me by Maya Banks
- Forbidden Fruit by Eden Bradley
- Tempted by Megan Hart
- Grimspace by Ann Aguirre
- Silent in the Sanctuary by Deanna Raybourn
- The Sharing Knife: Passage by Lois McMaster Bujold
- The Sugar Queen by Sarah Addison Allen
- The Serpent’s Tale by Ariana Franklin
- Magic Burns by Ilona Andrews
- Iron Kissed by Patricia Briggs
- Kushiels Mercy by Jacqueline Carey
- Rough, Raw, and Ready by Lorelei James (Samhain)
- Uneven by Anah Crow (Torquere)
- Collision Course by K.A. Mitchell (Samhain)
- Love Ahead by Madeleine Urban and Abigail Roux (Dreamspinner)
- Handyman by Claire Thompson
- Mexican Heat by Laura Baumbach and Josh Lanyon (MLR)
- Lord John and the Hand of Devils by Diana Gabaldon
- Captain’s Surrender by Alex Beecroft
I would say that is a lot of books,
but they are all -- at least all the ones I've read -- great books.
(cough) I'm in there, about halfway down. (/cough)
Edited to add --
I just wanted to add something really neat that I just discovered about that list of books and writers above.
Bit of background: In lots of writer websites, if you click on the link you can go to Amazon and buy their book and the author makes a couple small coins of money.
Enough to take the kid out for a popsicle maybe.
Writers operate mostly on what is technically called 'a small profit margin' or 'no appreciable money at all', so the price of a popsicle is welcome.
When you put up a link to somebody's book, you can send folks to their website,
(and the author maybe ultimately makes a trickle more profit on their book,)
or you can send folks straight to Amazon,
(and you make the little trickle of profit.)
You see that list above?
Dear Author and Smart Bitches have linked to the author websites.
Monday, March 09, 2009
Back on line
All is well.
The computer has gots its head, (and everything else,) together.
It's feeling much better and is fluttering around in a fluffy pink bedgown, cooing over the get-well cards. Its innards have been desoldered with desoldering braid and lovingly resoldered. Everything connects where it should.
Ah. Connectivity.
There were a dozen screws left over when the final parts clicked together. I have put them into the little bitty box the new DC power jack came in. I will keep them, on the offchance they will someday be needed.
Actually, eleven screws.
I just counted.
I just counted.
The DH says, "It works out that way sometimes."
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