mary: William Beckett from the Sixteen Candles video ([band] beckett sepia)
Because Amazon is still selling the Wolf House version that I have never gotten any money for whatsoever, my new publisher has been thinking about ways to make the new edition a more attractive prospect to potential purchasers.

At the moment it looks like the route we'll be taking is that each of the new editions of the novellas will include a brand new short story about the characters from yours truly.

I am having huge stressouts that I won't be able to write anything good enough. It's like being faced with fanfic stage fright times a million. What if everyone hates the new stuff OH GOD HELP
mary: Patrick Stump writing in a journal from the Sixteen Candles video ([band] patrick writes)
This entry is a grab-bag of excellent things! To begin with, I have amazing arty things that a gorgeously awesome fanperson named Jessica has made. Jessica wrote to me and said 'hey, I make wee sculpture people and I want to do some Wolf House ones, k?' And I wrote back and said 'jklsajfklsajdla'. And then today these pictures were in my inbox:

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH )

And she deserves a million zillion words of gratitude and praise and love but all I can really manage is AAAAAAAAAAH because OH MY GOD SO FUCKING COOL. I am overwhelmed with glee and joy. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH AAAAAAAH.

In other news: so, MyChem are playing the Big Day Out. Clearly this is a conspiracy by the universe, because I've long maintained that I have two dealbreaker/bulletproof bands which I will attend regardless of circumstances: Hole and MCR.

Hole are playing the Soundwave Festival early next year, and as already mentioned MCR are Big Day Outing.

I loathe Australian summer music festivals, especially the Big Day Out. I went to Bamboozle Left in the USA in 2008, and it was so completely different in vibe and quality of management and everything that you'd only believe me if you experienced the difference yourself. Australian summer festivals are hot and violent and nasty and gross. I haven't been to the Big Day Out in more than ten years. I don't just dislike it -- I genuinely feel repulsed at the idea of giving those organisers my money for a ticket.

But. MCR. I've been across the world multiple times for those losers, and I can't suck it up for a festival? And Hole are the band that made me into me -- I gotta go to see them, right? It'll have been thirteen years since I was last in CLove's presence. Passing that up would be tragic.

But on the other hand uuuuugh festivals ugh.

Speaking of, I went to a festival today! But it was indoors and not hot and therefore actually pretty enjoyable. I hi-fived Joe Trohman and Andy Hurley, and was newly reminded that Spencer Smith and Brendon Urie are the prettiest and most polite and friendly dudes in the whole wide world.

I didn't take anything nice to get signed (look, I'm massively depressed and barely functioning as a human right now; the bands should be grateful I remembered to wear pants, so I think I can be given a pass on forgetting to bring cd covers) so here is my ticket with scribbles on it.

scribbles! )

Here are some more crappy phone pictures of my day!

Bands bands bands bands woo! )

BREAKING NEWS: I really like live music kind of a whole lot. Ugh bands, you have my heart forever, bandom is stuck with me as a member of it for eternity I'm afraid.

And since I'm cleaning out recent pictures on my phone, here are some snaps of the costumes from Mad Men that I took the other day when I saw the exhibition at Chadstone. My focus was on Peggy's outfits because I adore her best forever and ever, with a couple of snaps of Joan's fabulous pencil-pendant thrown in as well.

Pretty clothes! )
mary: Edward biting Bella in her dream ([twilight] bella dreams)
Well, since my melodramatic meltdown of nonsense, I have tried to take it easy a bit. I got a week off work, which I'm currently halfway through, but I'm not getting nearly as much done around the house as I'd hoped to and so I'm just, blargh.

My rent has gone up by $87 a month, which is revolting. I'm glad to be able to lock in another year's lease, because the thought of moving is overwhelmingly dreadful, but I feel so... indulgent, I guess. Living in a proper apartment like a proper grown-up when I'm clearly just a flailing mess of disaster. I feel like I should stop pretending that I can have nice things.

Also, more than any of the sobbing or exhaustion or ridiculousness, the biggest indication that I'm running on backup power is the fact that I entirely forgot about an assignment that was due yesterday. I have to get it done today in order to scrape a pass grade. Ugh, way to take a week off being stressed out, Mary, GOOD JOB.

Edits on The Devil's Mixtape are coming along all right. It's funny having to find a line between making the Australian-isms decipherable while keeping the rhythms of authentic-sounding speech. Audrey's cover sketches are lovely and weird and cool.

Hopefully I'll get the rights to The Wolf House series back very soon -- it's in the process of being removed off Amazon and suchlike at the moment. The publisher of Devil's Mixtape wants to pick up the earlier series as well, which is a relief. I always joked when I was younger than my ambition as an author was to be in the $3 remainder bin at the newsagent, but the thought of being actually out of print so soon after publishing is actually pretty depressing and awful.

Next Novel That Has No Title Yet is plodding along very slowly. It's frustrating. I wish I had more energy and time. Also there's a collection of short stories I want to write for, but ugh. Time and energy. Bleh.

I've been watching a lot of Death Note, as the poor subscribers on my tumblr are painfully aware at this point. I really like it a whole lot. The world's greatest detective and the world's worst serial killer and their true and pure love, and cake and tennis and feelings and tiny angry proteges in leather pants. IT'S GREAT AND I LOVE IT A LOT. I have fic ideas but my knowledge of Japanese culture is rudimentary at best and I'd worry about creating a horrible mess.
mary: (jason)
I can't remember if I linked to Coaster's group portrait of the Wolf House characters or not, but if I didn't, holy shit look at this motherfucker. IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY. SO HAPPY.

And then the other day Kivitasku drew these portraits and I went AH AH AAAAAAAH again. How are people so amazing? AMAZING.

Also there was this gorgeous review/pimp post written by a recent reader.

Basically everything on this tag and this one make me boggled and delighted and then boggled again. Also, they make me feel guilty that my own tumblr is full of stuff like "I LIKE EDUARDO'S BLUE STRIPEY TIES!" when there are fanlings following it and expecting like content or whatever.

Next Novel is stressing me the fuck out. I feel stalled and useless and all-over-the-place and exhausted. I'm scared that it'll take forever and I'll put care and work into it and then the end product will be absolute shit and I'll feel like a worthless fool for bothering. (Note that this is also exactly the reason I don't date, ha. Issues, what.)

Got a call a little while ago from Swinburne, where I'm due to go back to do the last subject for my PR/Business qualification next semester. Because I already have a higher degree, my fees for this one subject are charged at a higher rate, and so that's more than $600 for one night per week of classes for one subject so I can get a formalised qualification for something I've already done 11/12s of and am already doing professionally! Yay!

Not to mention that I have to drop my hours at work back a bit to fit classes in without collapsing into a heap of overexertedness, so that's less income to cover increased expenses. It sure is a good thing I like school, I'm just saying.

Money stress is also a completely crap added complication to put atop my horrible writing hand-wringing, by the way, because it makes it much harder to be indie and punk rock and ~*~in it for the art~*~ like I genuinely want to be, like I always want to be. I don't want to write safe books about safe things, I want to write things with serrated edges and strange shadows for the people who don't like safe books about safe things. I don't mean this in a pretentious way, I swear, even though I know it sounds pretty much like that. I want my writing to be the punk rock mix tape a friend gives you that's not much like the pop stars on the radio.

But then I hear about writer X selling Y number of copies of her latest novel or whatever and fuck, even if I'm not willing (and never will be willing) to write safe, straight, whitewashed, conservative stories, sometimes it's really hard not to wish I was a pop star, you know?

Ugh, I'm rambling. Hullo. My brain is broken and full of nonsense, but yesterday I had a long conversation with former-babysitting-charge-who-is-now-a-tween about "Monster High" and the relative merits of being a vampire versus other kinds of monsters, and that was pretty cool.
mary: ([keywords] grow up so fast)
The Wolf House


Realised I hadn't updated since December, so I tidied it up a little bit. Tra la!
mary: ([tsn] eduardo bathroom)
I've sent about the first 30,000 words or so of New Novel to Audz and Erinna and Gracie for them to read, and they seem to think it is okay! Of course, they are biased, as I drilled holes in their brains to make them my rentboy zombie slave friends, but still. It's always nice to hear positive responses. Now I have an incentive to make the rest vaguely readable, woo!

Speaking of my excellent friends, sometimes I say things on the internet, like

"Seriously you don’t want to know how many idle daydreams I make up on the train ride to work which involve Alexander from The Wolf House and post-depositions Wardo becoming international entrepreneur beffies. It’s my headcanon for the backstory to that fic without a proper title that I wrote."

And then tonight, because Audrey loves me and wants me to be happy, she sent me this )

GUYS. YOU GUYS. YOU GUYS. I WANT TO WRITE ALL THE SELF-INDULGENT FIC IN THE ENTIRE FUCKING WORLD, OH MY GOD. LIKE, JUST, GIVE ME ALL OF IT. NO LAPTOP IS SAFE FROM THEIR LOVE.

(accurate depiction of my current emotional state with regard to WHY IS THIS A THING WHICH DOESN'T EXIST OUTSIDE MY RIDICULOUS BRAIN OH GOD)

Seriously I have a) the best friends and b) the worst brain.

hnnnnnnnrrg
mary: A picture of a woman sitting in front of a stained glass window, from Tarantino's Inglourious Basterds (Default)
COASTER DREW THE INHABITANTS OF THE TOWNHOUSE WHICH MAY OR MAY NOT OCCASIONALLY BE CALLED THE WOLF HOUSE LOOKIT LOOKIT

As I said in my reply, It is perfect it is perfect it is perfect aaaaaaaaah. I always adore your art, so incredibly mouth-breathingly much. And Ash is often that sad, at least to start with, so I don’t think that’s an issue. And it SO works as a whole, fantastically so — they are a gang, a fucked-up absurd farcical terrifying ridiculous badass gang who look like a regular bunch of people but who will turn your world upside down without really thinking about it one way or another.

I have had a truly dreadful brain-day today where I’ve barely emerged from sleep and had to bully myself into eating even one meal so I could take my meds (because I skipped them again yesterday because I just wasn’t hungry enough to eat food and they have to be taken with food) and… well, tl;dr, but I am not so great right now and to see someone of your talent create a picture of my characters and have it be so marvelous has certainly made me feel like less of a waste today. Thank you so much, it’s WONDERFUL.

La la la

Feb. 2nd, 2011 11:40 am
mary: ([band] show pony)
Pre-ordering Panic!'s new album yesterday has put me in a bouncy mood, fannishly. It's neat to be excited about bands! I like it!

Also it has put me in a massive 'I really love Alex and Tim in Wolf House a lot a lot a lot' mood, which probably means I have to relinquish any right I have to the weird crankiness I feel whenever somebody talks about WH as if it was fic with the names changed. Can't have it both ways, Mary.

(Relatedly, I probably need to stop being a precious princess who gets butthurt every time a reviewer/commenter/friend says "with book 3, the series really hits its stride". I get flinchy when I hear this because my brain basically translates it to "you will never be able to properly write anything except vampire hobbits so just give up trying to do other things". Yes, really.)

But! Yes. I love Alexander and Timothy a lot. I'm not sure if writers are supposed to say this or not, but to be perfectly honest I love all of Wolf House a lot. It's not perfect, but I feel like I got really close to telling the story I wanted to tell, to create the characters I wanted to create. To write the book I wish had existed when I was fourteen, basically. I'm proud of what I did.

(Relatedly, WH recently hit the filesharing rounds, and I speak for myself and only for myself when I say that I'm totally okay with this. Other writers have other feelings about piracy, and I haven't considered the subject enough or read widely enough to be sure of how I feel on the situation in general, but for my part and with regard to my own work, I totally don't mind. In fact, have at it. Consider it the mathom for my birthday this coming weekend. If you like the book, consider buying a copy or putting some money in my tip jar! Woo! Vampires! Punk rock! Queer teens! Kittens!)

Oh! Speaking of my birthday, current plan: Show up at the Nelson Place park in Williamstown at one p.m on Sunday. I am planning to drag a picnic rug and some cushions and some nibblies and wine, and we can all sit around and buy food from the cafes across the street and watch amusing dogs run around and stuff. Presents are not required. Bring food and drink instead! My phone number's 0406 459 964.

You'd never guess from this entry that I am practically passing out with stress from New Job Responsibilities and Threat Of Impending Massive Storms Right On Top Of My Baby Sibling's Heads Seriously What The Fuck Queensland Is This Fucking Ragnarok Or Some Shit I Mean Come On. Push all the bad feelings down into a tight little ball and wear a smiiiile! Marge Simpson taught me well.

Oh and

Jan. 23rd, 2011 09:32 pm
mary: ([keywords] grow up so fast)
People following my tumblr and twitter have already seen this, and I apologise for the duplication, but my mother reads this journal and I promised her I'd show her this: my book in the window of Hares & Hyenas (and a wider view).
mary: ([keywords] grow up so fast)
I didn't participate in yuletide -- challenges give me far too much performance anxiety -- which is something I now feel guilty about, because there is a Wolf House story and as Erinna put it, it's "so goddam good it's like they were hanging out in the outskirts of your brain". AAAAAH I LOVE IT SO MUCH. SO FUCKING MUCH YOU GUYS, YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW.

BETTE. WILL. The enemy that you protect from other threats, the grey area between antagonist and ally, the fallen leading the falling. I LOVE.

Anonymous Author Who Done Wrote It, you are fucking fabulous. Thank you for making an excellent Christmas day even more excellent. Thank you.

Blessed

Dec. 5th, 2010 10:50 am
mary: ([keywords] grow up so fast)
As I mentioned last night, I got a truly astonishing Christmas present last night. Here are some pictures of it.

mary: ([keywords] grow up so fast)
I was going to set up a merry little paypal page for this, but that turned out to be ridiculously complicated and so I decided to whack it up in the Etsy store instead. Books are a kind of jewellery, okay? You can totally wear it on your head to attract attention, just like a tiara!

The Wolf House complete series in hardcover

My mother is staying with me for a week, and she tried to pay me for her copy. I know, right? I mean, Mother! Please! There are not many moments in my life in which I feel like I am being an actual good and useful child! At least allow me to give you a copy of my new book! Criminy!

As I warned, the shipping to places other than Australia is sort of insane. If I can find a way to wrangle a cheaper deal, I'll change the listing and refund any overseas customers the difference. But um, yep. For now it's prohibitive, I know. But I promise the books are good! Like, awesomely super good! Fabulous! Wonderful! (Nat and Merri, am I doing this self-esteem thing right? :D?)

Um yep. Look! Hardcover books! How cool is that? Woo!
mary: A picture of a woman sitting in front of a stained glass window, from Tarantino's Inglourious Basterds (Default)


Once upon a time, when I was nineteen, one of my teachers at university gave me a piece of advice I've never forgotten. He wasn't a teacher I got along especially well with, and I'm sure he doesn't remember me at all, but one day in class he said

"Write that which, without you, would never be written."

and I haven't ever forgotten it. So here's a book. And it's mine. Other people will write other books, but none of them will be exactly like this one. This one is one which, without me, would never be written.
mary: ([keywords] grow up so fast)
Wolf House copies are arriving! THERE IS PHOTOGRAPHIC EVIDENCE, MY BOOK REALLY EXISTS, AHHH.

I may be massively fucked up and crazy and self-hating and conflicted, but occasionally I have small moments where my fourteen-year-old self emerges in my brain and goes oh my gosh, we have written a vampire novel and there's a quote from LJ Smith on the front of it and it is being bought by people in other countries, OH MY GOSH.

So this one's for you, fourteen-year-old Mary. Congratulations. The ideas you dreamed up on the bus home from school each day stuck around, and you wrote them down, and now people you've never even met know who Sofie is. You did good, kiddo.

Oh and

Nov. 15th, 2010 10:02 am
mary: ([misc] being human)
Obviously anyone who is writing Wolf House for Yuletide is more than welcome to hit me up for an electronic copy of the series to use as reference, and to ask any questions or for beta reading or whatever. Or you can demand I stay the hell away from you until you're finished writing, if you don't like the idea of the author climbing over the fourth wall while you're trying to have fannish fun. Either way! Let me know how to be the canon-instigator you wish for!
mary: A picture of the Fifth Doctor and Adric from Doctor Who with 'you're not my read dad' written on it. (adric five)
So, um, apparently finally having the Wolf House out in print completely broke me? I don't know, man, it was a bad scene. As soon as I posted the link here and on twitter I kind of lost my shit and started crying and didn't stop for most of the night, except for a brief interlude in which Erinna phoned and made me laugh, which was nice.

But I was a serious mess. At one point I was curled up sobbing into my pillow because I was hungry, I hadn't had dinner yet, and I knew there was my favourite kind of frozen pizza in the freezer in the kitchen but my brain kept telling me that I was worthless and useless and stupid and my book was too expensive and only on Amazon and was telling people that it couldn't ship to their areas and I just sucked, I was so fucking worthless, I didn't deserve frozen pizza, and I was sobbing because why was my brain so mean, why did it hate me so much, why wouldn't it let me have pizza, why couldn't I have nice things?

I am not making this up, that is how I celebrated on the night my acclaimed young adult series was published in paperback.

Anyway, so, on Thursday morning I was clearly still a wreck because seriously, I stopped being offended by stupid things said by Gerard Way more than three years ago. It was just my existing vulerability and exhaustion and miserableness finding an outlet.

But Erinna came over, and made me eat food, and made me have a shower and leave the house and buy groceries and be in the outdoors. And I skipped class on Thursday night, and stayed home from work on Friday, when Audrey came over as well, and I just let myself be sad and tired and not really up to any decisions or choices or responsibilities.

I slept a lot, except when Audrey and Erinna woke me up and made me eat the meals they cooked for me, and they did my washing up and tidied my living room and baked me cookies and put on DVDs, which I slept through most of but they were nice when I was awake. They gave me hugs and told me it was okay, that they loved me, that things were going to be all right.

I tell you all this because I want everyone to know that Erinna and Audrey are fucking champions. They dropped everything to come stay with me and take care of me, even though I was a useless mess who wasn't capable of making any decision whatsoever, up to and including 'get into bed' versus 'just lie down on the floor'.

I am so sincerely and completely grateful to have those two excellent ladies in my life. Thank you both, from the bottom of my crazy little heart.

--

I've talked to the publisher a bit about the book, and it seems like what's going to happen is that I'll most likely be able to personally offer hard-covers with dust jackets for $35 plus shipping. Which is the same book price as the Amazon paperback, but the shipping on the hardcover will be a bit rubbish for non-Australian people. I'll autograph the hardbacks on request, obviously, and throw in random shiny nonsense with each order.

The paperback will still only be available through Amazon, and the hard-cover will only be available directly from me (or from book shops which agree to stock it, which I will obviously mention as soon as I arrange deals with them or whatever). So now there's a non-Amazon option, but it's still sort of pricey, I know. On the plus side, it's five novels in one lovely linen-bound package with a pretty jacket? That's kind of cool I guess?

I'll let you know as soon as stuff's all worked out. I'm sorry it's such a mess.
mary: ([dc] hrm hrm)
Do you wanna know how bandom saved my life? No, it wasn't that video with the vampires. It was this ridiculous article, of all things.

Because suddenly it was fucking normal and okay to have a mental illness, it was something that rock stars did. Medication was something talked about in a frank, snarky, joking way by Pete.

And now this article about MCR. Where they talk about how they wanted to be againt the "that super-safe, clean, take-your-medication type of world". Where they talk about how the song "vampire money" is about shitty sellouts who write vampire novels.

I don't feel like I fit anymore. People can say "oh, but they don't mean people like you" but I don't want to have to justify, specify, prove myself.

I'm not saying I'm burning bridges or that I don't love bands anymore -- I fucking love bands, you'd have to pry me away with a crowbar, I will be the last guest still dancing when the lights go out at the bandon party. But I'm so fucking tired right now. I'm tired of swimming upstream.

Or, as I once wrote in my shitty sellout vampire novels,



Lily bends one leg up so her foot rests on her chair, her chin resting on the knee of her jeans, and reties her shoelaces. She keeps her eyes on what she's doing, not looking at Michelle as she speaks.

"Years ago," Lily says, picking at the edge of the sole of her sneaker with a thumbnail. "I tried to kill myself. Did you know that?"

“Yeah,” Michelle says. It'd been mentioned in some of the interviews she'd read when Remember the Stars were first on her radar. She's always wondered if maybe it was part of why she'd become so invested in the band.

She knows for sure that it had been a comfort to be able to listen to songs on her mp3 player and know that the voice in her ears was a kindred spirit, that Michelle wasn't the only fucked-up brown girl all full of sadness and despair and music in the world.

Lily's not really brown anymore. She was always a few shades lighter than Michelle; light enough to pass for Caucasian. Now she's sickly-pale like all vampires, with only a little more color shading her than Will or Ash.

Of all the things Lily's lost, that's the one which makes Michelle ache most.


--

I miss putting my earphones in and hearing kindred spirits sing out to me.

Stuff!

Nov. 4th, 2010 08:06 am
mary: ([keywords] grow up so fast)
Thing the first: Red Hood scans. Oh Jason honey I love you and your amazingly amazing oedipal complex.

Way, waaaaaaaay too many sexual relationships in Gotham are initiated by the idea of "this is as close to sleeping with Batman as I can get right now". And when both partners are engaged in that same thought process, I'm pretty sure that's a bingo.

Also, hee! I love it when I get quoted as some kind of authority by posters. It's a small bright spark of momentary vindication in the endless litany of self-recrimination which is my wasted life.

Thing the second: Speaking of my wasted life. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah can we talk about how FUCKING AMAZING HOLY SHIT the Sing trailer is? SO AMAZING. I love this band and all the things they choose to be.


Okay I have an article, an interview, an assignment, some Etsy photography, some Etsy postage, writing, and house cleaning to get done before class tonight, so off I go. If I owe you a comment or an email I will get to it this afternoon, sorry about the delay, I am rubbish.
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