Author Archives: Janna G. Noelle

Sometimes Magic Just Works: 4 Q&As about my WIP

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Ravenswing Dress - The Dark Angel Design Company, Photography - Lunaesque

The Dark Angel Design Company, photography by Lunaesque

Time to talk about my WIP again!

I never used to do this at all, as the thought of giving the dreaded “elevator pitch” makes my stomach churn like too much greasy pizza too close to bedtime.

But like anything bearing the label “dreaded”, said dread is usually lessened over time through devoting regular thought and effort to improving at the task at hand.

In other words, I need to practice pitching and promoting myself more.

Which is why, when tagged by my blog-buddy Eric J. Baker, to answer four questions about my WIP as part of the Writing Process Blog Tour, and I agreed to participate.

The four questions are thus as follows:

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Staged Under a Striped Tent

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The Circus Tent II, by Timmy on flickr

The Circus Tent II, by Timmy on flickr

The world, it’s been said and oft-repeated, is a stage.

I too am one such a player – a masked pretender cued by the reflection my audience mirrors back to me.

But I am also a writer – one who has further played the role of poet, at one time or other.  I have characterized my own self, as well as my personal stage where the show goes on.

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Character Study: Sarah Manning from Orphan Black (and, yes, a hero IS a special snowflake)

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I first learned of Orphan Black when it was just an obscure, homegrown program on Canada’s Space Channel.

And in my customary inability to pick a winning horse, dismissed it without watching a single episode, deeming it just another sci-fi show on Space – a network whose programming quality, let’s be honest, varies.

But recently, my blog-buddy Eric J. Baker wrote about Orphan Black, recommending everyone give it a try.  Plus, with the second season having recently started, news of Orphan Black and its success was everywhere in Canadian entertainment news.

So, I decided I’d watch a bit, and thus far am halfway through season 1.

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“For Diversity’s Sake”: On Representation in Fiction, One’s True Art & the Vicious Circle of Mainstream Media

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Samuel L. Jackson as Mace Windu, the first black Jedi.

Samuel L. Jackson as Mace Windu, the first black Jedi.

There’s been a lot of talk lately within the corners of the blogosphere I frequent about diversity of characters in genre fiction.

First fantasy author Chuck Wendig blogged in favour of book and movie characters being more representative of the world around us.

Then, indie fantasy author Ksenia Anske wrote about writers – diverse writers included –writing their true art – whatever shape or colour that may be – rather than being obliged to meet quotas of diversity – a compelling piece I neither fully agree nor disagree with.

This topic is hardly new within the writing world, with numerous other arguments out there both for and against the inclusion of more people of colour, of different sexual and gender orientations, and different physical and mental ability levels in genre fiction.

The “against” argument I despise the most is the concept of something I repeatedly saw in the comments trail of Chuck Wendig’s post.

The notion of “diversity for diversity’s sake”.

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My Week at Royal Roads: A photographic sojourn (with peacocks!)

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View from the ferry window en route back to Vancouver from Victoria.

View from the ferry window en route back to Vancouver from Victoria, BC.

Most people consider Royal Roads to be the other university – the one in the woods, in the middle of nowhere – in Victoria on Vancouver Island, British Columbia.

It’s also where I spent most of last week, enrolled in a four-day Continuing Education course as professional development for my job.

I have to admit, I’ve never cared for islands, for I’ve had a negative experience on every island I’ve ever visited; everything from,

  • Intentional exclusion by a friend
  • A migraine headache
  • Getting stung by jellyfish
  • Bronchitis
  • My accommodation turning out to be 1000 times sketchier than portrayed,

and most recently, four days of subtle mocking of the efforts of non-profit organizations by smug government works despite a non-profit worker – i.e. ME – being right there in the room.

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In Case of Fire, Save Writing!

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In case of fire

A few weekends ago, on a rainy Saturday afternoon, the fire alarm rang in my apartment.

I was dressed typically for me on a rainy Saturday, which is a step up from still being in my pajamas, although an admittedly small step.

In this case: fleece pants, a faded tank top, and merino wool lumberjack socks, with my hair, inasmuch as my dreads are always “done” since they don’t really change, hanging lank down my back from an earlier shower rather than pulled back or pinned up as I normally wear it.

Needless to say, I hadn’t been planning to go outside anytime soon, let alone to stand huddled amongst my neighbours while my building potentially burned to the ground.

And my building has had a fire in during the time I’ve lived here … the very night I moved in, no less.

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Character Study: Bronn from TV’s Game of Thrones (& what liking him says about me)

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Ser Bronn of the Blackwater

Ser Bronn of the Blackwater

Like most people who enjoy TV, I’m following Game of Thrones.

Also like most people, I have my favourite Game of Thrones characters, many of whom have died horrible deaths.

Thankfully, I still have a couple of favourites left, one of whom is Tyrion Lannister’s sellsword bodyguard-turned-knight, the aptly-named Bronn.

Bronn is a secondary character in the series, yet one I’m always excited to watch.  This despite the fact that the roguish soldier of fortune – a hard-drinking, womanizing, wry, cunning, yet still reasonably amiable mercenary – is a common high fantasy trope.

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Life is Better on a Bike

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In My Head, by Vincent Bourilhon

In My Head, by Vincent Bourilhon

Last week’s post about buying a female bike seat was a little more provocative than usual for me.

I meant every word, and was pleased by all the comments readers offered on their thoughts about colour-coding and gender stereotypes.

But I was angry when I wrote that post, and anger isn’t an emotion I’m used to associating with biking.

Because I love it.  I love it for being green, fast, cheap,  and good for me.  Although not necessarily in that order.

I often tell people that unemployment and its resultant frugality made me a cyclist back in 2006, but impatience kept me doing it, and the environmental benefits are just one of several other bonuses that have made biking an important part of my life.

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Pink Stinks: On Colour-Coding, Bike Saddles & Gendered Consumer Targets

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Pink toy aisle

Back in the medieval times, blue was considered a colour for girls.

This is due to the shawl of the Virgin Mary having been that colour.  Blue was considered to denote the womanly virtues of obedience, penitence, devotion, and grace.

Pink, meanwhile, in belonging to the red family, was viewed a colour most appropriate for boys, presumably due to the redness of all the blood they’d be spilling as future knights and fighting men.

I mention this not to argue that pink isn’t truly as feminine a colour as it’s portrayed present-day, but rather to demonstrate that the practice of colour-coding by gender is by no means a modern phenomenon.

Although perhaps the opposition some feel towards it is.

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Writing Historical Fiction: A How-NOT-To

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It sucks to be three out of four of these guys.
(The Bayeux Tapestry, 11th Century.)

I never set out to write a historical fiction novel.

If you go back far enough, it can be argued I never set out to write a novel period, for I never believed I’d be able to sustain a story for that length.

But once it did occur to me that I had a novel-length tale to tell, I didn’t expect for it to be a historical one.

As a result of this lack of foresight, the way I’ve gone about writing this novel (technically novels, for there’s two of them; so much for not thinking I could sustain a long story) is definitely not something I’d recommend.

There’s no one right way to write a novel, but what I’ve done may well be the one wrong way to write HF.  Don’t believe me?  Behold my list of what NOT to do, all of which I did, to my detriment.

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