Biography Like much of what she writes, Emery Sanborne is a work in progress. When she isn’t exploring the wilds of Philadelphia, old cemeteries, or the vagaries of her own mind, she can be found in her home of many colors, curled up with her cat and a good book.
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Or the Snowpocalypse or whatever you want to call it. Being from Michigan, the foot-plus of snowfall in Philadelphia this weekend really didn’t even make me blink. Though out here, inches induce mass panic, so “serious” snowfall is kind of impressive for a change. If it’s going to be cold, there might as well be snow. Still, I thought I had left major snowfall behind me when I left Michigan. Seems I just got off easy the previous four winters. On the upside, having bought a condo instead of a house means no shoveling for me. I so don’t missing digging out my mother’s driveway with foot-plus snow fall and ice chunks from the city plows. My back is grateful.
So while the other citizens of my fair city were busy shoveling and/or freaking out, what did I do with my time? Well, I had intended to do my taxes this weekend, or see if I could do them with the whole condo purchasing fun of the past year. I didn’t. The stack of 1099s and other assorted tax docs for loans, my W2, etc., just made me go “meh” and do anything but. Managed to clean my floors and do some laundry, so I wasn’t completely unproductive. The rest of my weekend was spent faffing about on the internet and watching really bad disaster movies. Basic spoilers, so avoid if you care, but I highly doubt you’ll be wanting to watch any of these.
Movie one was Virus from 1980, with actual recognizable stars like Robert Vaughn, Olivia Hussey, and Edward James Olmos. There were a couple other notables that I always know by face but not by name. The premise was hardly unique with the government manufactured supervirus that wipes out everyone on the planet. Although, unlike say The Stand, the only survivors are the lucky few with natural resistance, but a lucky submarine crew and a group of international scientists down in Antarctica. So the execution was something different, that counts for something. And the psycho military dude who set the automatic nuke system into action did have a payoff of sorts. It’s hardly a movie I’d watch again, but wasn’t an utter waste of time.
Of course, women get predictably shafted in the post-apocalyptic world. The station has more than eight hundred men and…just eight women. Which means, you guessed it, women are the new rare, valuable resource. Women must “suppress” their natural instincts and the men reign in their primal urges, so that the propagation of the species happens with the greatest genetic diversity. Yup, a system of appointments of various men with the few women is set up. I can see the “logic” in the arrangement, but Jesus. But what really pissed me off is that the whole conversation came about after one of the women came before the “government”, supported by the other women, after having been raped and beaten. And essentially it all boils down to, “Sucks to be you, honey, but that does raise an interesting point. We need to start making babies.” Personally, I would have either grabbed the nearest gun or went for a nice icy swim or quite possible bundled up, grabbed some food, and took my chances on my own. The human race is on its last legs, I’m going to enjoy what’s left to me, not fight a losing battle. But I’m just selfish like that.
The next movie I watched was Deadly Harvest from the late ‘70s, and the only notable face was Kim Cattral. Essentially, the climate has gone wonky and disrupted the food production enough that the human race is on the brink of starvation. The farmers are down to their bare stores and can’t really grow more, and the city folk are in more dire straits as their rations have been cut off. So the city folk raid the countryside and the farms for the food. People die in the crossfire. Blah blah blah. And not once did anyone consider cannibalism. Very disappointing.
I watched The Last Winter on Netflix Instant Watch, much more recent (2007) and more suspense with strains of disaster. Ron Perlman was the growly head of an oil company in the Arctic Reserve who basically spent most of the movie having a pissing contest with the environmentalist. Partly over a girl, partly just because. And then really bad shit starts to happen with temperatures rising and people going crazy. All but the girl wind up dead, but her chances don’t look so hot as nature is fighting back with mad weather and driving other people crazy outside the Arctic.
This I followed with The Chaos Experiment from 2009, starring Val Kilmer, Armand Assante, Eric Roberts, Patrick Muldoon, and assorted nameless others. Val is a rather batshit ex-professor who had some theories about the end of the world in 2012 and global warming. To prove his theory of how people are going to lose it, he locks six people in a steam room and lets heat and psychology work their wicked ways, with a bit of help. Or he might just be making it up. But if it did happen, it’s happening now or it happened months ago. And Armand the cop has to figure it all out. I’ll certainly never listen to Bolero the same way again. It wasn’t a horrible premise, entirely, and there were some okay moments, but the end just sort of fell apart. There’s sort of an answer as to whether or not it did happen, but not when or who all was involved.
Lastly, I dug out one of my favorites, Ravenous with Guy Pearce, Robert Carlysle, Jeffery Jones, and David Arquette. Cannibalism at an 1840s military outpost in California. I’d classify it as a dark comedy with fair writing and decent execution. I have far worse guilty pleasure movies, that’s for sure.
And I did tag a bit with Grey, so there was some writing this weekend, not just a bunch of bad movie watching. Really.
This week was much better than the last. Finally got my washer and dryer up and running–coolest appliances EVER! And even got a royalty check. As an added bonus I even made incremental headway on my second Landa book, not to mention that Grey and I finally figured out how to fix the end of our third Creatures of Sin book. Win, win, win. Ooh, and today you can pop over to AllRomanceEbooks.com and pick up a copy of Unshuttered by Grey and I–all proceeds go to the American Heart Association.
On the bad side of this week, I only made incremental headway on Landa despite having a good chunk of the book lay itself out for me…and I got jury duty. Again. For the third time since moving to Philly four and a half years ago. It’s my biennial gift from the city, I think. I have to double check, but I always either get the summons or have to serve right around my birthday. This time, the summons is my early gift. The one good thing to jury duty is the court house is right next to Reading Terminial Market. This time I think I’ll bring the netbook so I can utilize the sitting around time to write for a change. Unless I can take my knitting, then I might be able to finish off my newest scarf. Maybe it’s not so bad after all.
So that’s the latest. I apologize for the lack of links, but the computer I’m currently on forces me to use IE to update my website (thought the India site is perfectly accessible in Firefox here). Hopefully when I get home tonight I’ll remember and remedy that error.
Strike that, reverse it.
So, remember how I posted that the saga was at long, long last over? I was wrong. Due to the super cold temps, everyone in the city seemed to be having heater issues, so my electrician couldn’t get out until yesterday. And to make matter even more fun, the delivery guys didn’t hook up the washer, so I discovered that the hot water spiggot wouldn’t shut off all the way and was leaking quite a bit. However, after discussing the matter with my electrician guy–who rocks–I nearly got stuck fishing out the connection hoses to collect the water until Monday. So in addition to new wiring, I now have new water feed spiggots. But the aggravation and delays and one thing after another are so worth it. The spiffy new front load washer? OMG, best appliance ever. Once I figured out how to work everything, I spent way too much of th evening watching my new appliances in action. The washer takes longer; however, drying time is at least half of what it used to be. I am a happy girl with clean, DRY laundry for the first time in more than a freakin’ month. Happy.
In writing related news, please stop on by AllRomanceeBooks.com this month for the 28 Days of Heart. Each day you will be able to purchase a new short by some amazing authors. All proceeds go to the American Heart Association. So you get a good read and help out a good cause. What more could you ask for?
Of course I have an ulterior motive. Grey and I have a fun little het short entitled Unshuttered due out on the 5th, and India has a hot short featuring Commander Montgomery due out at the end of the month entitled Sea of Sin. But if neither of those are to your tastes–which they should be *hairy eyeball*–you have twenty-six other fantastic authors to choose from. In addition to standard contemporaries, there are vampires and genies and shifters, not to mention threesomes and male/male, exotic and not so exotic locales, outer space and the West…
Go, read, enjoy.
Sorta.
Quarter to eight this morning, my phone rings. “Hi, this is Home Depot, we’ll be there in twenty minutes.” Me: … Uh, okay.
So I hop out of bed and scramble, getting a call from the automated center telling me that Home Depot is on their way. This is all after not getting a window confirmation last night. No complaints, though, because, hey, washer/dryer! Except that I can’t use either of the shiny new machines until the electrician comes and installs the outlet because of course there’s different power cord configurations or some such nonsense. So I’ve got a pretty new washer and dryer that are essentially modern art at the moment. *sigh*
And to further make this morning FUN, the cat has been up and prowling about–tromping over my head, gnawing at me–since about six or so. I finally caved and crawled out to feed her, and returned to the bed still half asleep to get woken up by the delivery call.
Bitch, bitch, bitch.
But on the upside, I’m not posting about the writing I haven’t been doing, so that’s something, right?
Nothing much to report. Writing is still non-existent at this point, partly because work was work this week and also because I think I might be in a bit of a funk. But making excuses doesn’t get things done.
So, new week and hopefully a better outlook.
For the second year in a row, Writers Weekend has been a wash for me as far as writing goes. I’ve decided that I am no longer allowed to do editing project for about two months before, so that I am in the proper writing mindset. And also that I am not allowed to work on the second book in whatever series I have going. Fortunately, this time around it wasn’t the Sequel of Doom.
I didn’t not get any writing done–go double negatives. But maybe 2k over the course of three to four days is beyond pathetic. I did finish knitting one scarf and start on a new one, so I wasn’t unproductive. Just not productive in the right way. I also spent the bulk of my time reading stuff I shouldn’t have been reading. Guilty pleasures ahoy!
Grey and Scarlettgirl have been very productive, which is brilliant. They both need life to cooperate so they can write more.
Back to the real world this afternoon. Of a fashion. I’ve got the day off from work, so my return is delayed until tomorrow. I think I need to look at it as a fresh start. Back to routine in more ways than one. I really do miss being a writer. But it’s hard to write when your creativity is nil.
Stop bitching, Emery, and start writing.
I’ll let you know how that goes.
Day one of Writers Weekend got off to a solid start. I managed to write just under 1k for the day and only spent $24 on new yarn. Oh, and I finished the scarf I’ve been working on. I would like to have written more, but zero to 1k is pretty impressive after my dry spell. Of course, now that I’ve gotten up to what’s been kicking about in my head for the last few months on my second Landa story, I now need to figure out what comes after, sort of.
And on to the joys of homeownership. The electrician is running the 220 line on Monday, but won’t install the outlet until the w/d is delivered because he wants to make sure he puts the right one in. Damn appliances. Delivery is set a week from Tuesday, which means another day off work, but hopefully worth it to put an end to this godawful saga. I miss having a dryer and I’m sure people are sick of me bitching about the goddamned thing. Right?
Now I suppose I should go off and start putting words on the page. At least I’m not working on the story of doom this year. That counts for something.
Just blogged over at the India Harper blog and figured I’d hit my own as well to get in my weekly post.
I’m thisclose (and lord, do I need to stop using that) to being done playing editor and able to turn my eye to my solo writing again. Just in time for Writers’ Weekend at the Jersey Shore with Grey and Scarlettgirl. This year there will be a lot less knitting/crocheting on my part and a whole lot more writing. I’ve got a few new ideas kicking about in my head and several WIPs, so I hardly lack for stories. I think the biggest issue is getting back into writer headspace, though I think keeping up with the co-writing with Grey has helped.
At the moment I’m killing time waiting for my new washer and dryer to arrive (George and Gracie). It’s sad just how excited my very first major appliance purchase makes me. If it shows. But I got a confirmation call yesterday and have more faith in Home Depot than Sears. And if those get here early enough (I have a 10-2 delivery window), I might see if my hairdresser can fit me in. My super short spiky hair is getting shaggy and limp–product can only defy gravity so much.
Way more than you probably wanted to know, but that’s the way of it.
I started out well and then I slacked off with the posting. Stupid holidays and side projects. Though, ultimately, I have no one but myself to blame for slackage. Bad author, bad.
Not that I’ve been much of an author the last two months. I’ve had my editor had on for a project that turned out to be way more involved than I expected, and thus sapped my personal creativity. There’s been some good out of it, because I do love helping other authors shape their craft, but now I remember why I stopped editing as a side job–my solo writing suffers horribly for it. Save my werewolf idea I got in San Francisco, I haven’t really written a word on any of my solo stuff since late-October/early-November. And it really shows in my moods. I’ve been irritable and cranky and slightly depressed… How my friends put up with me sometimes, I honestly don’t know. But the end is in sight with the editing and I’m trying to turn my attitude around. So, hopefully…
Writing with Grey, on the other hand, has been going really, REALLY well. We started our fifth book in the Arcana Ancien series in early December and hit 30k on it last week. That’s amazing for us. What’s even better is that we learned that our beloved characters aren’t done with us yet. Always a relief. We had a bit of a dry spell with a couple shorts that stalled, but when Graeme, Diana, and Peter started talking, there’s just been no shutting them up. *cheers* Grey also did a fabulous job updating and redesigning our India Harper site yesterday. We’re going to be much better about keeping that current.
On the release schedule, Grey and I have two shorts coming out in February for ARe’s American Heart Association 28 Days of Heart fundraiser. One is fun, fluffy het short under both of our names: Unshuttered. The second is as India and set in our Creatures of Sin universe, following Commander Montgomery’s amorous pursuits: Sea of Sin. Additionally, our third Arcana Ancien book, A Blanket of Bitter Frost, should be out before winter’s over. And last, but certainly not least, Last Thought, the first book in my new solo series will be coming out soon as well. Yes, The Misadventures of Landa Carson will be an actual series, unlike my doomed The Affairs of Morton’s Pointe with the second book that would never let itself be written (I have six, seven? half-novels sitting on my hard drive for that).
Of course, there’s not going to be a series or anything else until I get back to being an author again. But it will come.
In happier news, I successfully hung drapes to replace the Killer Industrial Blinds. Successful in that the drapes and rods are even and good looking, as well as the fact that I didn’t fall off the ladder and almost kill myself. Always good.
Off to put on my editor cap so I can soon reclaim my author hat. Cannot wait.
Or something to that effect. Every so often I can’t resist indulging in alliteration.
One of my good friends sent me a link this week to a recent short by Stephen King featured in the New Yorker: “Harvey’s Dream”. Like every writer, King’s stories run the gambit from “meh” to “Jesus, this is the best thing I’ve ever read!” Though his tend to frequent the awesome end of the scale. This story definitely ranks as one of his better, if not really good, ones, at least in my opinion. King is at his best and most terrifying when he finds the horror in the everyday, making your heart thump with the building suspense of an early morning conversation between a husband and wife. If I say any more, I’ll ruin the story. It’s five pages; go read it and rejoice in good writing.
Ideally, this is the type of story I want to write, take a slice of life that could happen to just about any of us and twist it just enough to kick your adrenaline into gear. That’s what I was aiming for with my upcoming novel Last Thought. While I didn’t miss, exactly, I wound up with something quite a bit different than what I’d intended to write. This is often the case and part of why I love being a writer—I can always surprise myself.
You don’t need serial killers or zombies or buckets of blood or super secret organization bent on the ultimate power to write a solid suspense story. A mostly normal day in the life of Jack Average can be as hair-raising as a day in the life of Jack Harkness or Sparrow or Bauer (trying to cover my bases here). It all comes down to finding one little thing that makes this moment stand out from all the others it should be like. Why now? Which, I guess, is at the heart of every story of any type we find ourselves driven to tell.
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