Pages

Monday, June 30, 2014

Three weeks three days

Just got back from Washington DC. So no mega-post today. But here's a picture of the UK hardback and paperback of Hild, which I took late last night because, well, I'm excited. I know, I've been talking about this book for a year now, but this is publication in the country where I grew up. Publication where old friends and family can see it on the shelves. Publication in the same place it's set. This is what I've been waiting for. Just 24 days to go. 

With luck, I'll be in the UK in early October for a couple of literary festivals and some other things. When I get those details I'll post them here. I'll be the one beaming like a lunatic.
This blog has moved. My blog now lives here: http://nicolagriffith.com/blog/

Print

Thursday, June 26, 2014

All the different art of "Cold Wind"

At the end of last summer—mid-August—I unexpectedly wrote a short story, "Cold Wind." It was triggered by heat and brine and music and, especially, art.

When it gets warm here (that is, anything over 70 degrees) we open up the house to the breezes coming up from the ravine. This puts Terri Windling's Deer Maiden on permanent display: with the doors open I see it every time I walk into the kitchen to get tea. It's large. It's arresting.


I was also listening to Hedningarna's "Viima," which no matter what the weather makes me think of snow. In fact it made me think of Riva Lehrer's portrait of me.
The interesting thing—one of the many interesting things—about this picture is that it's three-dimensional. Here's a close-up to show you what I mean.
It's layered. It shows what lies beneath.

So while it was summer and I was writing endless non-fiction (essays, speeches, blog posts) about Hild, my fiction-making brain wanted to play. One day I sat to write a speech for a trade show and out plopped the first thousand words of "Cold Wind." Huh, I thought. Look at that. So I wrote the rest. I sold it within a couple of days of writing it and sat there blinking, thinking, What?! Somehow in the space of a few days I'd written, rewritten, and sold a brand-new piece of fiction that I hadn't even known I was thinking about. (Normally I have a clue. Though not always—another exception was "Song of Bullfrogs, Cry of Geese" which dropped into my head absolutely whole one day on the beach in Florida.) But then I went back to the speech and put it from my mind.

Not long after Hild came out, I saw the art Tor.com had commission from Sam Wolfe Connelly. It catches some of the menace and is still ambiguous enough to not give the game away.

And last week I saw this, a piece by Rovina Cai created in response to the story.
As she says (and if you haven't read the story skip the next two paragraphs—they are absolutely **SPOILERS**):
The story is about two shapeshifters and explores the concept of predator and prey. There is a point in the story where the perspective changes and the roles are reversed. This illustration captures one of the characters mid-transformation; both physically from woman to deer and from predator to prey. I wanted to subtly hint at a sense of danger, and to play with contrasting elements that leave it ambiguous as to whether this character is good or bad, hunter or the hunted.
And now I would love to see how she imagines the other character, Onca, changing...

But mainly today I'm struck by how art—music, painting, poetry, fiction, sculpture, video, all of it—winds about our lives connecting everything.

Today, everyday, the world is full of unexpected connections.
This blog has moved. My blog now lives here: http://nicolagriffith.com/blog/

Print

Monday, June 23, 2014

Wife

Last year, two and half months before the publication of Hild, I emailed my editor at Farrar, Straus and Giroux: "I hope it's not too late to change my author bio. I no longer want it to read that I'm Kelley's 'partner' because we're getting married."

He wrote back: "No problem. I'll just change partner to wife. So the end of the bio will read 'She lives in Seattle with her wife, the writer Kelley Eskridge.'"

I blinked. I blinked again. I hesitated. Wife. Then (with some misgivings) I gave the okay.

Twenty years ago, when I first married Kelley, in a ceremony with zero legal validity, but much emotional truth, in front of family and friends who'd flown in from all over the world, I might have hurt anyone who called me her wife or her my wife.

But when we got married last year on the 20th anniversary of that first wedding, in front of a judge, with the full legal force of the USA and UK and many other countries behind our vows, we used the word wife.

We'd talked about it over the years. We'd disliked it over the years. But when we were looking at the old, old vow "to take this woman as your legally wedded wife" with all the ancient rhythms of have and hold, richer and poorer, sickness and in health we knew it was the right word.

Yet it's still not easy to introduce Kelley as my wife.

I read my first feminist theory when I was 19. It made me so angry that I couldn't leave my flat for three days because I thought I might hurt the first man I saw. In the countries I call home (the UK and US) until relatively recently husbands could rape their wives with impunity. Wives could do nothing about that. A wife belonged to her husband. A wife submitted to him and depended upon him; a wife wasn't allowed to make decisions for herself, to borrow money...

So growing up wife was, to me, an ugly word. Anathema. A badge of second-class citizenship. So ugly, in fact, that it changed the way I thought. I and the woman I first lived with and loved1 never called each other my anything. Not even my lover. Using the possessive for another human being seemed wholly wrong.

And then I met Kelley and fell in love. And now she is my wife. Now I am her wife. What changed?

The etymology of wife is complicated. Looked at superficially we can say the Modern English wife (female spouse) is from Middle English (ME) wif/wiif/wyf (mistress of a household) which in turn is from Old English (OE) wīf (female, lady, woman—from wīfman, female person, though I'm not sure when that formulation occurred). But look a little deeper and you see that various meanings from past eras hang on in different guises, so we get the OE sense of woman preserved in midwife and old wife's tale, and the ME sense in housewife and (more specialised) fishwife (tradeswoman of humble rank).

And then we ask, where did wīf come from? From Proto-Germanic *wiban2. Which in turns might (things apparently get a bit guessy at this altitude, or maybe depth) come from the Proto-Indo-European *weip- (to twist, turn, wrap, perhaps with a sense of veiled person), or *ghwibh- (shame, also pundenda). So: wife might ultimately come from a sense of hiding one's shame. No wonder I've never liked it.

But words change. They change because the world does, because the speakers of a language put the words to different use, one that reflects their evolving worldview. In this sense, frothing conservatives are right: changing the traditional definition of marriage has changed marriage.

When two women call each other wife, wife no longer means chattel. It can't—chattel can't own each other. It no longer means object not subject, that is, subject to another's will. How can two people with the same status subject each other to anything? These days, in the US and UK, wife means, Woman in a legal marriage. By association, woman also no longer means object not subject. It no longer carries with it the implication that someone else is in charge. A woman is no longer automatically a lesser member of a household.

Wives and husbands3, women and men, are both now human beings in and of themselves. Though legally related. Family. Which entails obligation and connection, belonging that isn't necessarily possessive. I never had a problem calling the woman who bore me my mother though no one would have dreamt of assuming she was my chattel. Rather, we belonged to each other.

More women—of every age and sexuality and marital status—understand this and are refusing to accept the notion that women belong to men. I don't think it's a coincidence, for example, that the Twitter hashtag #YesAllWomen began some time after the SCOTUS ruling on marriage equality. Yes, before that there was #bindersfullofwomen. And, yes, SCOTUS ruled as it did because attitudes were already changing. But they are part of a continuum.

Interesting times lie ahead.
____

1 But see how awkward that phrasing is?
2 This disquisition is from notes I jotted down some time ago without attribution. (It's a bad habit I'm trying to break.) A quick search shows that a good chunk comes from the Online Etymology Dictionary but some, well, it's a bit of mystery. I'm guessing I consulted the Oxford English Dictionary, my favourite book, and that I added two and two myself to make four, but if anyone out there recognises any of it, please let me know. I'll be happy to give credit.
3 Husband is a later formulation. It's from Old Norse and probably replaced OE wer in the 13th century.
This blog has moved. My blog now lives here: http://nicolagriffith.com/blog/

Print

Saturday, June 14, 2014

Hild paperback cover

This is what the Hild paperback (out October 28 from Picador) will look like. What do you think?


This blog has moved. My blog now lives here: http://nicolagriffith.com/blog/

Print

Friday, June 13, 2014

Definition of hægtes

From: Robin

I am reading Hild and I have not been able to discover the definition of "haegtes." I read on my Kindle and cannot find the word on Wikipedia and have not been able to discover a reading group source; maybe I haven't looked hard enough but then I work full time.

I enjoyed your book Slow River.

[This email was edited for readability.]

A hægtes is a supernatural figure (imagine a witch, but worse).

The word is defined in the glossary—the list of terms and their definitions—that comes with the book. If on your Kindle (or in the Kindle app) you go to Table of Contents, you'll see the link to that glossary. It's at the end of the book, along with Author's Note which includes information on the real Hild and a pronunciation guide. At the front of the book, that is, before the chapters actually begin, you'll find other goodies, including a map and a family tree.

If you prefer to download and/or print the PDFs of map, glossary, pronunciation guide, list of characters etc. you can go to the Hild extras page on my blog where all are handily listed and linked.
This blog has moved. My blog now lives here: http://nicolagriffith.com/blog/

Print

Thursday, June 12, 2014

Game of Thrones theme tune if it were from New Orleans

This blog has moved. My blog now lives here: http://nicolagriffith.com/blog/

Print

Coming soon, redux

The top four vote getters for my list of possible future blog posts are, in order:

  • dog-whistle flap copy
  • branding for writers
  • diversity on con panels
  • immersive fiction choices
I'll tackle at least one of those in the next few days. I'm not sure which.

I have a million other ideas, too. Some of them are long, more like essays than blog posts, and some are short and ranty. The lovely thing about a blog—this one, anyway—is that I don't have to know in advance. 

This blog is a labour of love; when it's too much labour I stop loving it. So it's play, mostly. Which isn't to say I don't take it—and you, dear reader—seriously. I do. I just don't organise around it. Right now, other parts of my life come first. Given that "other parts" include HILD II I'm guessing you won't mind too much.
This blog has moved. My blog now lives here: http://nicolagriffith.com/blog/

Print

Wednesday, June 11, 2014

Guinness does NOT contain maize/corn

Three weeks ago, after reading/hearing a disturbing rumour that Guinness uses high-fructose corn syrup, I wrote to Guinness directly to ask them about their ingredients. I did not get a response. So I posted this. But I also wrote to them again:

I'd love a definitive answer to this question: What, exactly, is Guinness made from?
To put it another way: Do you use corn/maize at any stage?
As I explained to them, I'm not a purity fanatic, it's just that corn/maize isn't good for me. Also, frankly—though I didn't put this in the email—the thought of drinking beer made with maize/corn makes me shudder. I've always disliked the notion of wheat beer, too (though wheat doesn't make me ill unless I eat way, way too much of it).

This morning the customer service department responded:
Guinness does not contain high fructose corn syrup nor does it contain corn or maize.
Yay! Mostly. It's picky, I know, but I wanted them to say, No, we do not use maize/corn at any stage of our process. So I've written to them again. (I might be lazy but I can also be stubborn. I'll add their response when I get it.)

ETA: Here's their reply:
Corn and maize are not used in the production of Guinness.
So Guinness does not contain corn/maize.

I was an idiot to publish my post before I heard from the brewer directly but I did. I made a mistake. Anyway, I apologise to anyone whose equilibrium I disturbed with this. Sorry.

But those other beers like Corona? Yep, they're still full of stuff I can't drink. Sigh.
This blog has moved. My blog now lives here: http://nicolagriffith.com/blog/

Print

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

Walking away from it all, redux

From: Gregory 

You once wrote "I constantly try to live up to my ideal of myself as a person and a writer (if you want to read more about this, take a look at a long--very long [grin]--interview/essay/rant I wrote on the Aqueduct blog last month). I think it's easy to get complacent about ourselves. Writing--having everything be so public--keeps me on my toes." 

I interpret this - perhaps wrongly - to at least in part mean you wrote Aud the way you did because she embodied in many ways a heightened engagement with the physical world and specificity in thought, intention and language (among her other many admirable traits) that represent the best of how you want to live your life. 

I prize many of the same values you elucidated with Aud (and your Daily Delights, for instance) and have a number of touchstones to return to when I am feeling complacent or downright lazy in life. Do you have any authors or literary characters you turn to when you feel that way?

Thanks for your thinking and your work.

Liebe Grüße aus Hamburg
That Aqueduct post was long, and when I read it now I'm surprised by how willing I was to reveal struggle. Struggle isn't something I normally discuss in public. But clearly that point in my life I was in truth-telling mode--so much so, in fact, that I wrote a second part (though this one is slightly shorter).

But back to your question: Do I have books I turn to when I feel lazy and want to stop feeling that way? In a word: No. When I feel lazy I luxuriate in it. It is bliss. It's part of my writing process. To distract myself from it would be to break what works.

The nature of a writer who isn't yet independently wealthy is to work. I work all the time--even when I look as though I'm not working. When I sip tea in the sunshine and muse upon trees and birds part of me is somewhere else, and that part of me is working.

I'm not sure I get complacent. The reason I started writing in the first place is that it's the one thing I know I can always improve. It's like life itself: never-ending learning. Physically, yes, I'm more indolent than I'd like. I have MS; I can't stride about the way I want to. In the days before MS, I walked, ran, and biked everywhere: I didn't have a car and rarely used the bus. A two-mile walk to work (and back) was an everyday thing, and while I was there I ran up and down five flights of steps constantly. In evenings I'd bike another couple of miles to teach self defence (and the class itself could be physically demanding) then off to, say, play a darts match, then home, then write something, then a bit of sleep, then do it all again.

Now I don't. I loll about and type, or read, or watch the birds. Except when I'm travelling, when I'm meeting-and-greeting, and signing, and speaking, and doing interviews and readings. And when I get home, and I'm catching up on physical therapy and all those friends I haven't seen for weeks. And writing publicity pieces to support the novel. I actually long--I yearn, I hunger--for laziness. There's nothing I'd like better than to do nothing. It's what fills the creative well: finding the still, quiet place.

Non-fiction doesn't seem to work the same way for me. I can pump out non-fiction like a machine. In fact, when I'm publicising a novel I do: writing a couple of pieces a day, for days--and weeks, even months--at a time. But talking about the same thing can be existentially exhausting, and there are times I just want to walk away from it all.

In late 2007, after both Always and And Now We Are Going to Have a Party came out, that's what I did. And this is what happened:
[I]n autumn last year, the day before my birthday, I sat down with no clue how the book would unfurl, just the determination I would be working on it by the time I was forty-seven goddammit, and just...began, just jumped off the cliff. I am now falling a thousand feet per second and accelerating. The air is rarified up here and the view incredible. I'm learning how to fold my arms and legs to fall even faster, how to breathe in the rush. I don't know where or when or how I'll land, but I'll know I'll figure it out before I get there. I have to.
But to write the kind of book I want, I first have to find that still, quiet place. And then I have to dwell in it.

As we're talking about writing process, here's another blog post in which I talk about being both an analytical and intuitive writer, and how Hild needed both.

And lastly, your closing salutation reminded of a German term, funktionslust: enjoying what you do well. I write good novels. To write, though, I have to be lazy, it's part of my process. And so laziness is something I've learnt to do well, too. I bask, I revel, I glory in it.
This blog has moved. My blog now lives here: http://nicolagriffith.com/blog/

Print

Sunday, June 8, 2014

Corn does not belong in beer [ETA: This is wrong]

Not long ago I found out read that my go-to all-purpose draft beer, Guinness, contains high-fructose corn syrup. Corn (or maize as we say in the UK) does not belong in beer. High-fructose corn syrup doesn't belong in anything. I no longer drink Guinness. [Important ETA: please see tomorrow's blog post. Guinness does not contain maize/corn in any shape or form. I was wrong. Sorry.]

I've since investigated the ingredients of other beers. By investigate I mean I go to the website of the manufacturer--I use the term advisedly; some of these companies don't deserve the title of brewer--and read the posted ingredients. If the language is weaselly, "We use the best ingredients such as..." or "Our key ingredients are..." rather than "We use only the following ingredients..." I email the company directly and ask. It's not hard. I recommend trying it for your favourite beer/s.

If you drink microbrews/craft beer, you're probably fine--as long as it really is a microbrew you're drinking, not something that used to be a microbrew but is now owned by a mega conglomerate. But I tend to drink beer for gulpability--that wonderful combination of taste and volume that is so satisfying at the end of a hard-working day. I'm not a fan of anything over 6% alcohol by volume and prefer weaker than that--one of the reasons I used to love Guinness so much (it's only about 4%).

I've always found American big-label beverages (yes, I'm being very specific with my word choice today) unpleasant so I didn't even bother checking brands such as Bud Light, Coors, Rolling Rock, or Miller. I dread to think what's in them. But I did check my always-keep-some-in-the-fridge beer, Corona--and found it's stuffed with corn. Tuh. It's now off my party list.

However, I'm pleased to report that the following beers are deliciously pure:

  • Fullers ESB
  • Grolsch
  • Heinken
  • Amstel Light
  • Oranjeboom
Just thought you should know, seeing as summer is here...

ETA: I don't know what's in Timothy Taylor's, exactly, so I might go so far as to say it's "pure" (but so-called purity was never my major concern) but their senior brewer has assured me "the sugars we use are not derived from Corn (Maize)." I'm assuming that means just barley, but I don't know for sure. I've asked for more info.

ETA2: I'll repeat the essence of one of my comments below. I emailed Guinness for confirmation regarding the rumour of corn/maize about three weeks ago and got no response. I emailed them again today and am waiting for a reply.

ETA3: To repeat the in-line ETA above: I was wrong.
This blog has moved. My blog now lives here: http://nicolagriffith.com/blog/

Print

Saturday, June 7, 2014

In which I recommend The Blue Sword: YA for all of us

After I'd finished my interview on To the Best of Our Knowledge about Hild and had just pushed back my chair to go, the host Anne Strainchamps asked me if I'd like to recommend a book for a new feature they were doing. Sure, I said, and what followed was an utterly off-the-cuff three minutes conversation about Robin McKinley's The Blue Sword which is now live. [That's the streaming link. You can also download the file for your later listening pleasure.]

The Blue Sword was at the front of my mind when Anne asked me to recommend a book because I'd just started to read it aloud the night before and I'd been struck by its voice and rhythms and sure-footedness. In the on-air piece I talk about it being first person. It's not. It's in third although sometimes the narration slips into first without italics or quote marks. It can be mildly confusing, especially to read aloud cold, but after a couple of days I adapted and could give the non-dialogue narration the flavour of dialogue and reduce muddlement. 

The Blue Sword might be one of McKinley's first novels but it shows all the trademarks of her later work: that absolute gift for making this imagined time and place feel as real as dirt, for showing people both ordinary and special, and for putting the reader right there in that particular time and place. I admit to flinching a little now at the implied class/caste issues, and the way McKinley doesn't quite escape the gender event horizon (though it's an admirable attempt), but for an early novel it's very fine. It's a serious story about finding one's place in the world and learning to belong, issues very much of interest to many of us, of any age.

Several people have asked me what I think of the recent kerfuffle about adults reading YA. I've talked about how I feel in general about YA before.

Meanwhile, The Blue Sword: Swords! Ponies! Magic! Go read it.

This blog has moved. My blog now lives here: http://nicolagriffith.com/blog/

Print

Friday, June 6, 2014

Links to all Hild reviews, interviews, and essays

Now up, pages on:
They are a bit messy, just first approximations right now, as much for my archives as anything. I'll tidy and organize them gradually. Meanwhile, feel free to fossick about. Enjoy.
This blog has moved. My blog now lives here: http://nicolagriffith.com/blog/

Print

Thursday, June 5, 2014

Coming soon...

Now that I've drawn a line under banging the Hild drum (at least until other publicity efforts gear up) I'm free to think about other things. I have glimmerings (not strong enough yet to label ideas) concerning blog posts on the following:

  • the power and authority of women—today and days past
  • choices writers face when writing immersive fiction
  • thoughts on the notion of branding for writers
  • dog-whistle flap-copy
  • 3-part Women in the Arts: discriminations and triumphs
  • how men can be allies for women in public situations
  • making character action dense and rich 
  • thoughts on how to approach diversity on conference/convention panels
If you like the sound of any of those topics, let me know in a comment. If you loathe the idea of any one in particular, ditto.

ETA: Seriously, leave comments in the comments. If it's on Twitter or FB or personal email I can't keep track. Thanks.
This blog has moved. My blog now lives here: http://nicolagriffith.com/blog/

Print

Wednesday, June 4, 2014

Final Hild links roundup

For those who are counting, this is links roundup #20. I've put all twenty in one place. I'm also assembling humongous roundups of Hild reviews, interviews, essays and other miscellany. They're messy; there's a lot of stuff...

Which is why I'm stopping now. The book's been out nearly seven months, soon the publicity machine will start up again for the UK hardback release on July 24, followed by the US paperback on October 28, and Hild II isn't going to write itself. Also, frankly I'm itching to blog about something other than my own stuff.

So let's get to it.

NEWS
REVIEWS
Boston Bibliophile
"What I loved most about Hild is the relationships between the characters, particularly Hild and Cian's diverging friendship. I really felt her frustration and helplessness as they grew apart, as Cian's sexuality developed and lead him away from his childhood friend. But Hild also lives in a world of women..."


Spiral Galaxy Reads
"I felt that the portrayal of a time of great change and the people caught up in it rang completely true. I loved the character of Hild especially—it’s hard not to like someone that smart, especially when she’s believably flawed. "

Adventures in Reading
"Hild is a remarkable character, never anywhere close to perfect, but fully realized and growing all the while. But, it isn't just Hild that is a fleshed out character. From kings to warriors to peasants to slaves, Griffith presents each character as someone who might just have lived so many years ago, and with deft touches, those characters have their own lives that keep on going even when they are not on page."

Tinkerbird
"[Hild is] game of thrones meets katniss everdeen..."

Five Great Speculative Fiction Novels by Women
"This book is amazing on so many levels I’m going to apologize to author and reader in advance because I’m not going to be able to do it justice in the space I’ve allotted myself."


INTERVIEWS
None today, though there are three in the can (Locus, the SFWA website, and Smart Bitches, Trashy Books) and two queued up (Real Change and KSER). 


MISCELLANEOUS
Queering SFF Pride Month
"...when thinking about 'books that aren’t published as speculative but are queer and would totally appeal to an SFF audience,' I immediately landed on this one. / Probably because it’s also really, really good."

[Some interesting commentary here on sexuality in Hild--both in the body of the piece and the comments.]

Judging the Tiptree
"I'll bring up the question of Hild. We all thought it was brilliant, we all thought it explored gender in creative ways..."
This blog has moved. My blog now lives here: http://nicolagriffith.com/blog/

Print