Tag Archives: David Bowie

February 2016

In addition to trying this whole blog weekly thing, I’m going to try this thing where I keep you updated on what I’m working on. If nothing else, it ought to give me a headspace where I keep organized and keep things going. And possibly keep me from getting as behind as I did last year. Oops.

The Long Road – Oh my poor baby. This story’s been with me a while, but I think I might finally have figured out how to write it in a way that I’m happy with. So I’m drafting this story based originally in the premise of: if one of the oldest forms of magic is name magic, what do you do when a valuable heir to a faerie empire doesn’t have a name? The young prince grows up completely unaware of his heritage, makes friends, lives a very long life before his father comes looking to bring him back to his purported kingdom. But by this time, he’s not any sort of prince the faery kindom would recognize.

White Lightning – The long put off sequel to Black Ice because I had no idea how hard and complicated writing an entire anthology on my own would be. Hint: Very. I don’t recommend it. I do, however, recommend Black Ice because it’s fun and there are premeditated moose. White Lightning takes place a short time after, dealing with a different set of characters and focus mostly on the fae and how they interact with the world today. This anthology is mostly drafted, I’m just working on edits at this point. Long, long edits.

Will Shakespeare: A Play – A group of college students, still living in the same area after school, find themselves somewhat adrift. To combat this, a few of them decide to write and stage a play to bring them back together and remind themselves that despite the grinding monotony of their day jobs, they are still brilliant at the creative work they used to do and still love. The play, of course, stars Will Shakespeare as an aspiring playwright, and the main authors of it are a young couple named Romeo and Juliet. I blame tumblr for this entirely. And various friends for encouraging me. This isn’t even in drafts yet, so I wouldn’t look too hard for it.

Sandborn – A novel of the Blasted Lands, a world where magic was the ruination of the land and the people in its path, reducing everything to desert with more and more viable land being used up every generation. Unto this wasteland a child is born with the stubbornness of her father and the insight of her mother and the magical ability of both. Not that she knows it until someone comes a-hunting and the only folk standing between her and an unpleasant death are the wandering carnival she just met. In the final stages of edits, and hopefully to be out soon.

The Queen and her Parliament – This was originally supposed to be a novella for paid release. But after January, that doesn’t seem right. The serial numbers have been fairly well filed off, but the origins of this story lie in what should be a very recognizable movie. Your clue: a parliament of barn owls.

The Stars Look Very Different Today

So. David Bowie.

I didn’t believe it for about an hour after my boyfriend told me, half awake and staggering towards the shower, and now all I can think is, this isn’t right, it’s not supposed to be this way. We’re not meant to live in a world without David Bowie (Yes I know we managed perfectly well for many centuries but dammit.) I don’t get how this happened. He’s supposed to be here floating around with that little smile of his, showing us all how to be serene in our differences. We’re … I don’t know. He didn’t die, he just changed incarnations. This one happens to be the first one not on this earth.

I don’t get it. I disbelieve. I spent the first hour of the morning disbelieving and then the second hour a sobbing mess on the couch instead of doing my morning routines. Really, it’s amazing I got dressed and got something for lunch and got out of the house at all, at this point. I’m kind of amused and touched and comforted to see so many people also going wait, David Bowie’s dead? he can’t die. he’s not mortal like the rest of us. Someone on Twitter had a good quote:

And that’s exactly how I feel. I’m not yet used to a world without David Bowie actively in it, and I don’t know if I ever will be. Hell, I’m not yet used to a world without Christopher Lee or Leonard Nimoy actively in it. I was watching Stargate last night and realized how much I missed Don Davis. I’m still not sure how Robin Williams is gone.

There are these people, and they are so influential in so many people’s lives, their presence is so big that they’re everywhere. And then they leave us, and we’re all left staggering. As a global collective, we reel and wonder, where do we look to now? Here was a giant part of our lives, now gone, what do we do? How do we keep moving after we’ve been gutted like that?

Well, but he’s still here, isn’t he. We still have all these hours of video, all this music.  We have the moment we saw him on stage and couldn’t believe anyone would do that, could get away with that. We have the moment we saw him on screen and didn’t entirely believe he was real. We still have Jareth and Nikola Tesla and Thomas Jerome Newton and the walk-off from Zoolander. We still have this.

I’ve been doing a lot of looking back this morning and boggling at just how much of my writing is influenced by him. (And mostly Labyrinth, to be fair, me and at least a third to half of the girls in the English speaking world around that time wanted the Goblin King to come and take them away.) The entire Sorcerer, Sam, the mysterious gentleman of manners and deep, deep issues who was so very bad for you and yet kind in some peculiar way, who touched you in the core of you and made things all right again and who could break you just as easily, that was all Bowie. And I don’t know how to deal with the real-world person being gone, it feels like all that stuff that he inspired in my head should be gone too even if it isn’t. And it isn’t. See above.

I think, from what I know of him (he was not that cruel in the last decades of his life and I don’t think he ever really meant to be although let’s face it, he had issues for a while), that he’d remind me that what’s in my head isn’t gone. That he’d like to remind us, this is still here. How we felt, how we responded, what we made of ourselves. What I built with his words, his music and his image, that’s not gone. And that’s how people live on, isn’t it? They live on because we remember them and carry them with us, so there’s his immortality.

So I’m going to close my eyes, and I’m going to sit down and have a talk with the Bowie in my head who maybe looks more like the Thin White Duke right now, but give it an hour I’m sure that’ll change. What’s the point of having your own head-Bowie if he doesn’t go through whimsical and yet carefully thought out transformations? And we’re going to have a good cry. Tonight I’m going to eat my feelings, they taste like buttercream frosted sugar cookies. And then, when we’ve had our cry and gotten the most of that out, we’re going to pick up and keep on being weird and bizarre and alien, keep on being proud and confident and defiant, keep on being a rebel. Keep on being a hero.

We love you, David. We always will.