Adriana Kantcheva

Catching Words

Dispatches from a writer of speculative fiction.

Hello, ,

It’s deep winter over here, and everybody around me is succumbing to a bad cold one by one. As I’m writing this, I’ve got two sick kids on the couch, hoping I’m not next. It’s part of the season, but sigh...

Still, I have some good news:

What I’ve been up to

• Revision of my current secondary-world fantasy novel project—done! I believe this revision was the biggest one I’ll have to go through, but probably not the last (beta-readers, I’m looking at you). For now, though, I’ve set the manuscript aside for a couple of weeks before a cold read.

• Also, after a year away from social media, I’m tentatively returning to it. Slowly, slowly. I’d like to find a sustainable way to be there.

“Contraction” now available on Turn&Work

I’m thrilled that my story “Contraction” has a new home on Turn&Work, where you can now read it for free. (It was originally published in Twenty-two Twenty-eight).

I wrote “Contraction” a while back when I’d just had my twins and my son was four. It’s about the great shift in perspective that becoming a parent brings and is one of the few non-speculative pieces I’ve written.

(By the way, please subscribe to Turn&Work’s newsletter . You won’t regret the books, stories, articles, and music recommendations. It’s refreshing to step outside the bounds of the trodden-to-death.)

An essay about my writing process in SFWA’s Planetside

My writing process is ever evolving, but I’ve talked about its current state in my essay “Handling Longer Projects Without Relying on a Plot Outline,” which is now up on Planetside: The Online Magazine of SFWA’s website. An audio version is also available.

(A doodled note that says “trust the creator inside.”)

I’m a discovery writer who’s slowly moving away from “pantsing” (though I’ll never be able to fully outline), which is super fun but has caused me not a little headache. In this essay, I’m talking about the ways I’ve devised to deal with this.

An excerpt

Now that I’m celebrating finishing my current project’s big revision, I thought I’d share a paragraph from it:

The governess thrust me in front of my mother. “Here’s the child,” she said.

Lady Estacia lifted her gaze from the embroidery frame in her hands—the needle continuing its work on its own—cold disapproval stiffening the fine lines of her face. Ah, beautiful my mother was, even in her scorn. Her rich brown hair had been gathered into two thick braids that tumbled into the lap of her high-necked silk gown. Despite her beauty, my mother never wore the kind of tightly fitting, open gowns I’ve seen our rare visitors display. Still, she couldn’t hide her graceful hands or her eyes, clear and blue, which now appraised me with the kind of unpleasant light that reminded me of how she’d once exclaimed, “Oh, that the wretched fetus stuck!” Ever have I been her regret.

A recent snapshot

On the way to driving my kids to school, there’s this pole. On the pole, a red kite usually perches, looking at any car that happens to pass with the utmost suspicion.

One day, when I drove this way, the post stood unoccupied. In that moment, I realized that I’d gotten used to seeing this majestic bird always there. I’d stopped appreciating this remarkable thing happening every morning, i.e. I did the very human thing of getting used to a good thing in my life.

The bird was back the next morning and now has my full, sustained appreciation.

(A lone wooden post overlooks rolling hills beneath stormy clouds.)

Reading and music

• Reading: Driftwood by Marie Brennan. By far the most imaginative work I’ve read in a long while. If you love amazing world building and characters as interesting as the ramshackle assembly of worlds that Driftwood is (it’s where worlds go to die), you’ll do yourselves a favor if you read this rich, short novel.

• Music: Ruby Waters. Close-to-the-soul kind of music; it’s like she’s talking into your ear sincerely and a little obscenely.

One-Sentence Story

She placed the glass of wine in front of the empty chair across the table, then held her breath, releasing it only when the ruby liquid in the glass began diminishing.

Until next time!

Adriana

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