| As I was sorting slush today, something came up that I mention here in the hope that it will prove useful to a few of you.
Don't post stories online, unless it's behind password protection. Otherwise it starts looking already published. Jed Hartman's posted about that here. Allow me to repeat that again: posting a story publicly counts as publishing it. Things like private critique groups, which are password protected, are fine and dandy. Public forums? No no no!
Along the same line: we do not take multiple submissions or simultaneous submissions, and I will bounce things back to you quickly if they fall into either of those two categories. - Mood:hopeful
 - Music:Dengue Fever - Tiger Phone Card
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| Just cooked up some hash & spam for breakfast. Damn you ![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) silk_noir for your comfort food posting! Got me thinking of the comfort foods I listed. It was some leftover roasted veges (onion, potato, carrot, garlic and turnip) for a dinner earlier in the week. I mashed it all up & broke an egg into it to bind it together. Made patties which I coated with breadcrumbs before frying up. The spam was cut up into slices, coated with beaten egg and similarly fried. Yummo. Later this morning, I'm off for a tramp; need to work off those calories & get (more) fit. - Tags:food
- Mood:chipper
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| When I read an SF magazine, I almost invariably read the non-fiction first. That is what I did here. Charles de Lint's review of Duma Key was good. I had come across the term "The New Weird" several times but had not fully understood it until I read the James Salis piece. This new understanding of mine may even spark a separate blog entry about the new weird. Paul di Filippo was his usual entertaining self. As I had neither read "Jumper" nor seen the movie, I just skimmed through Kathy Maio's review.
And now to fiction:
Reader's Guide, by Lisa Goldstein: This story is a great combination of fiction and metafiction. The story is short, clever and extremely readable and I love short, clever and readable stories. It entertained me and at the same time made me think about my favorite hobby - writing. It even sparked some story ideas in my brain. What more can one ask from a story? If I was an editor of an "Year's Best" anthology, this story would surely be in it. HIGHLY RECOMMENDED.
Fullbrim's Finding, by Matt Hughes: "...the kind of story, allegedly humorous, that consists of a long and complex build-up, leading to some cave on a mountain peak, where the end of all the striving turns out to be no more than a deflating inanity!" This quote from the story perfectly describes the story itself. Matt Hughes is an entertaining writer and I usually like his Henghis Haphthorn stories but I did not like this one.
Enfant Terrible, by Scott Dalrymple: The story deals with the age-old SF trope of superhumans among us. Nothing new here, but it was quite readable and entertaining. However, it raised some questions in my mind. [SPOILER ALERT] If the superhumans ate up the intelligence of the people around them, how come so many gifted children still remain in Michael's class? Second question: Why the second person, present tense narration? It doesn't seem to serve any purpose - just sounds contrived.
The Roberts, by Michael Blumlein: Impressed by the writing; not too impressed by the story. Takes too long to convey a small point.
The Dinosaur Train, by James L. Cambias: Take a slice-of-life story about a circus. Replace the elephants (and other such animals) with dinosaurs. The resulting story is The Dinosaur Train. Readable.
Poison Victory, by Albert E. Cowdrey: I usually like Cowdrey's writing but I do not like alternate history and I do not like WWII stories so I skipped this story altogether.
Overall: A readable issue, the highlight being Lisa Goldstein's story.
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| When idly scratching one's belly during sleep, it is best not to get a fingernail snagged in a surgical staple.
That will wake one up, even through the drug fog.
Imagine a few dozen nails dragged across a blackboard at once. There ought to be a word for that sensation.
Any suggestions? | |
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| I had a really great day today - the kind where you realise you are glad to be alive. It deserves its own non-tired, coherent post which I'll do tomorrow. In the meantime, the other day kathrynlinge reminded me of the parties we used to throw back in the day ... feels like I'm reminiscing about the 70s but I'm not ... and I was just thinking, you know a day like today was a pretty typical day pre-the ex. So I think it's about time I started throwing the kinds of parties I used to. First up, a dessert party! I'll try and pick a day before I go away but that's getting to be pretty soon! | |
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| Dude, this is like cholera. I don't have blood in my stool yet, so I guess I'm ahead of the game. | |
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| So after beginning last October, I have finally finished listening to every single song on my ipod.
I don't know if I want to begin again *straight* away... there was a month or so there where the balance was just right but before that it was too much retro not enough new... having said that I'll probably do it again and just tinker with the balance... stretch it over a longer period and intersperse with just listening to my current playlist.
I wound up by spending the first few weeks of May listening with random turned off... so I cycled through my current playlist by album and mopped up the last few stray songs in between....
Was kinda interesting listening to whole albums again, which is something I rarely do... a couple of albums gained something by being listened to in their entirity... I found I got more into the latest Bright Eyes and Tanya Donelly albums, for instance, when listening to them in one sitting...
On the whole though I am happy to be back to random play, which is more interesting to me in its unpredictability...
In album news, I purchased the new Death Cab for Cutie from itunes this morning. Go buy it now! - Music:Fountains of Wayne - Traffic and Weather
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| It's yard sale day again. Here's to great bargains. *raises coffee cup*
DebG listed me a Super Villain on her blog - one of those If I were a -Superhero - what would I be memes. Well, I always say, if you're going to do something, do it right. I'm sure I'd be the BADDEST villain around, were I to follow that path. Yeah, eventually someone would find my heart, the one I keep buried in the backyard in a crystal coffee can, but until then - pillage for all, I say!
*cough.cough*
What was I saying? Oh yeah - as usual, a big bunch of nothing.
I SO need to wash my hair - I put so much spritzy crap in it yesterday because I didn't feel like washing it, that now it's really stiff and sort of freezes into what ever shape I push it into. Ugh.
I had a wonderful long chitter with ML on the phone last night. I really like her. It's nice we are so in synch, mentally.
Gary's going to do a commercial estimate today - here's my fingers crossed, hoping he gets the job - would open up a whole new vista for him. NOW - he needs some reliable HELP! What is wrong with these people?? NO one wants to work, it seems ...
We are supposed to have La Roona visit us this evening. I'm quite looking forward to it - I haven't seen Her Fatness since my birthday.
So, I was talking to Jade about what kind of phone I should get, in December.
Me: I want something that plays music. (The last time I made this assertion, she asked me, "Why? So you can play the same one song over and over again?" *sigh* My children know me too well.)
Jade: Music phones suck. You don't want one.
Me: I do want one.
Jade: The reception's no good. You DON'T want one.
Me: *confused* What do I want then?
Jade: I don't know. But not a music phone.
Me: Can I borrow your IPOD then?
Jade: No.
Me: *sigh*
The last time I borrowed her IPOD, I somehow accidentally erased her very extensive library and we were unable to ever recover it. I know, but I really wanted to lay in bed and watch those episodes of Lost!
Off to wash my crunchy hair. | |
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| So you might have noticed the lack of complaining this week on feeling overloaded and lists and blah blah blah. That's because I have had my nose to the grindstone focusing on my week list. At first I was worried it was too easy - ha! At 50 items for the week, it proved not to be so easy. I have now completed 14 of these and have just tonight to work on it before the week flips over to a new week tomorrow. Even though I've only completed 28% so far, I am actually really quite happy. The list has helped me get quite a few things done that would not have been done otherwise and have been hanging around needing to get done for ages - like this morning I *finally* opened a bank account for Twelfth Planet Press, New Ceres has had a bunch of stuff done, I've finished off a few other projects that were so nearly done and just needed things like - sew in the ends or add such and such a blurb to website etc or call so and so. It's been good. I LOVE It! Anyway, off to high tea and tomorrow I have a Sea Rescue shift but I hope to get a fair whack of the rest of the list done tonight. More later.  | |
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| So I don’t think of a year in January to December calendar terms. Nope. Teaching gives me a different calendar: the August to May one. One of my writing log quirks, then, revolves around tracking accepted and/or published works from June (start of my summer break) through May (end of the teaching year). I’ve only been keeping such track for the past four years. This year in particular has been fun and interesting and hopeful and relatively successful. I’ve been most aggravated that I’ve not written and sent off, nor gotten much, poetry out there this go ‘round. But it’s not a bad thing, given the prose stylings and machinations have gotten some mileage. Still, I’ll whine more about a poem’s rejection that a story’s rejection. I’m proud of these accomplishments and figured that, hey, if I post good writing news along with other friends and acquaintances at Asimov’s on the self-promotional threads, then why not just do this glomming-type, coup-counting post on my own little LJ? Here goes . . . 1. [carefully plotted]--a scifaiku for Issue 6 of The Shantytown Anomaly 2. “Iaido” and “Losing Count: A Parable”--both poems published in The Journal of Asian Martial Arts 3. “Something Apollonius Rhodius Left Out”--flash piece in Sentinel Science Fiction (I still miss it, Lou.) 4. “Sold Separately”--flash fiction for Issue 7 of The Shantytown Anomaly 5. “Clone”--8 word micro fiction for Issue 6 of The Shantytown Anomaly (I know, a pattern. It’s a stand-up bi-annual specific publication. Check it if you haven’t.) 6. “flotsam and jetsam”--poem in the Marymark Press give-out/broadside series 7. “Hunter and Harvest”--poem reprinted in the SFPA Dwarf Stars Award anthology; nominated from its appearance in Issue 2 of The Shantytown Anomaly 8. “Dwarfblood”--fantasy short in Forbidden Speculation (available at Amazon!) and from the good folks at OG’s Speculative Fiction 9. “Autumn Caravans”--reprinted online and up now at Lorelei Signal 10. “Sword of the Dead”--novella accepted by Drollerie Press for an upcoming anthology 11. “Virtual Jisei”--poem slated for October at Kaleidotrope 12. “What’s Faulkner Got to Do with It?”--list story in Issue 11 of the online Behind the Wainscot 13. “GangstaFic”--yes, counting the Fantasy Magazine Blog for Beer entry because it won, so that counts as a contest in my book 14. “BSG Last Supper Analysis”--2nd place (two copies of Weird Tales back issues!) in another Fantasy Magazine Blog for Beer 15. “A Matter of Anachronisms, Archetypal yet Curious in Their Implications”--short story in Issue 14 of Behind the Wainscot 16. “The Nest Building Habits of Children Inclined to Ornithomancy and Other Such Auguries”--upcoming story slated for fall at Fantasy Magazine So, there you have it. I’m definitely _not_ touching the 5x that number of rejections, but that just goes with the territory and the calluses on the heart, skin, and ego. It’s definitely not without its frustrations--I’ve been struggling to find an agent for my two novels and came _this close_ with just sending outright to an editor who did give personal feedback with a rejection along with a hearty dose of encouragement. But, dang it, that novel (and its mate) are two big babies for me, and I’ve consequently backed down from the agent search/publisher search for now to throw myself into short story writing. Still, it’s writin--this the craft, the passion, the drive.
Avocation? Yes. The Dream? Why, of course. Foundation for the future? Daggum sure hope so. It makes me realize that it can be done. And keeping work in the market(s) is the only currency I’ve got. The only currency any writer’s got. When it comes back, send it back out. How long? By God, until. And write in the mean time. Butt in the seat. Pen to paper. Fingertips to the home row. And the lovely wife still helps me keep grounded. Still gotta take out the trash and other such divisions of labor around the house. ;)
It always helps keep me going, too, when Thing 1 and Thing 2 say, "Daddy, whatchou writin'?" Something else I hope I can impart to my children. But I digress. - Mood:contemplative
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| I'm still at the stage where I would baulk at the notion of reading a novel online. However, I kinda think that in ten or twenty years that will be the way things go. I could be wrong.
People like Cory Doctorow and Charles Stross have publicised the notion of giving novels away free on the web, and have done so quite successfully. However, their model seems to be based on the fact that people don't like reading online; that they will trial the novel, see if they like it, and if they do, buy the hard copy. This is probably a viable argument, currently, but I wonder what will happen if audiences become more accustomed to reading online, and grow to accept the notion of reading an entire novel that way. It seems to me that Doctorow's premise is that this is unlikely to happen (based on his writings on online reading in Locus etc, where he argues that reading online is a fundamentally different experience). But it's possible that we're simply in a transition period. That once people grow to accept and get used to the notion, they will adjust to it.
In which case Doctorow may well find giving novels away for free is less viable. *Or*, as I think he has argued, novelists will be forced to find alternatives, akin to the stuff discussed in my last post on cds, so that their income derives chiefly from other sources; appearances, teaching etc, rather than writing itself.
As with music, I can see this being a viable mode of income for established writers. I'm less certain of its viability for up-and-comers.
I think one of the big steps in electronic novel publishing will be finding a format that allows for easy reading and bookmarking etc. I don't really believe a dedicated platform is the answer, unless it can be produced cheaply. I also think publishers wishing to embrace the format need to charge *less* than they do for hard copy novels, just the way itunes etc undercut cd prices.
I'm not sure too many publishers are gonna support electronic publishing until it becomes obvious that it's the wave of the future (in other words, they'll get on the bandwagon once it's mostly past). The reason is this; the transition period will be difficult for them. Whereas publishers could quite reasonably survive by publishing electronically, the middle period of any such change, during which they need to produce works electronically *and* in print, will look unattractive to many publishers, for the reason that publishing relies on printing and selling large numbers of copies, in order to get a good deal from printers and to sell individual copies cheaply and profitably. The more readers who pick up a book electronically, the more the margin of profit is going to shrink as publishers are forced to cut back on print runs. For that reason, I don't think the big publishers will find it in their interests to promote electronic publishing until it becomes inevitable.
Anyway, this is all off-the-cuff rambling. I haven't done any research into the field at all, so I could be talking complete bollocks. It's just my feeling, based on what I've heard and read so far... | |
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| Speaking of reviews, 2012 has picked up another nice review, this time from Rich Horton at Locus. Here's what he has to say: 2012 is an Australian anthology of near future SF, focused on the problems plaguing us now - or in 2012. Environmental concerns dominate, not surprisingly. The editors called for engaged fiction, which is a two-edged sword - some of the stories here are greatly weakened by their polemics. But others manage to stay urgent and involving without being too shrill. My favorites were "Apocalypse Rules, OK?" by Lucy Sussex, very amusing stuff about the real movers behind the various idiocies humans get up to; and "The Last Word" by Dirk Flinthart, in which a scientist and her ex-lover who is now a wheeler-dealer negotiate the development of a genetic treatment with effects that could be wonderful - like a cure for melanoma; trivial, like an easy suntan; or scarier yet.
Buy it here.
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| Nice review of the latest Aurealis over at SF Site by Rich Horton. Some positive comments on stories by Guerin, Sparks, Rayner Roberts, Plank, Blackmore and Maloney. | |
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| As an interesting tangent to the discussion on electronic publishing, Rolling Stone have a short piece about bands moving away from CDs as their source of income. I know Pearl Jam made comments several years back about their income deriving from live shows more than cds, and recently Nine Inch Nails and Radiohead have released Cds for free. I can see the argument that at some point cds may become obsolete. At the moment, the above arguments work quite well for bands who are big enough to make a living from music without needing cd-sales as part of that income. I'd be interested in some more quantitative data on how it affects smaller bands, though. - Music:Yo La Tengo - I Am Not Afraid of You
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| Well, not entirely. I really did have some kind of stomach crud at the beginning of the week, but the main reason I've not been posting is because it has been creeping back. The black dog. The truth the dead know. The old bald cheater (OK, I think that one actually referred to time, but it rings true either way). The characterization of depression that has always worked best for me is "the bell jar," but while Sylvia Plath was a fine writer, she has been so unjustly diminished by her posthumous association with weepy teenage girls making half-assed razorblade scratches on their wrists that her excellent and apt phrase seems hardly worth mentioning. That's still what it feels like to me, though. A layer of glass -- thicker at some times, thinner at others -- that descends over you and cuts you off from the world, muffling the things that once seemed important, the things you need to hear and the things you try to say, layering you off from what once gave you pleasure and sustenance.
I stopped taking Cymbalta a couple of months ago now, I think, mainly because Augie had gotten sick and the vet bills were murderous and I never was sure whether the shit was doing anything anyway. When I stopped, though, I asked Chris to keep a close eye on me, and if he thought I was sinking badly enough that I needed to start taking it again, he should tell me.
Yesterday morning, he told me. I refilled the prescription. Unsurprisingly, it still costs a fortune ($127 for a month's supply; no generic). The kind folks who offered to help subsidize my brain chemistry needn't send money, though; people have been very generous with donations recently and we are doing more or less OK. Besides, I don't even know if it will help, and I don't suppose I'll ever really know; for me, depression (though often extenuated by factors such as catastrophic levee failures, pet deaths, etc.) seems to be a chemical thing that comes and goes at will. Things can be awful and I'll weather it surprisingly well. Things can be fine and suddenly life looks like a big pile of shit. I never know when, how, or why. Right now I'm just doing what Chris tells me because I don't know of a better alternative.
(I do not feel in the least suicidal, and am going ahead with my plans to purchase a gun and learn to shoot. In fact, that's one of the few things I feel genuinely interested in right now.)
The only reason its arrival comes as a surprise this time is because I guess I mistook my acceptance into the Catholic Church for some sort of Get Out of Depression Free card, which was foolish, but I've been riding so high and feeling so much better since then that I just kind of went with it. I mean, why wouldn't I? However, I have come too far and put myself and my loved ones through too much worrisome bullshit to let this turn into another long downward slide. I'm taking the stupid Cymbalta. I'm going to Mass and trying to help with the movement to save Our Lady of Good Counsel, though I feel like deadweight in that respect. I'm not eating much, I admit, but I'm forcing myself to keep weightlifting. I'm hoping the trip to Grand Isle next week will clear some cobwebs out of my head.
I also have an Unofficial Birthday Crawfish Boil to attend tomorrow, which is a bright spot.
That is all for now. You may commiserate if you wish, but please, for the love of God, no ADVICE.
[Addendum: I have banished all the "peeps," a.k.a. neighbors who ask for sandwiches, codranks, and such. If you are not a delivery person, a cop, or a friend I'm expecting, you are not allowed to knock on our front door. If you do, you will be ignored. If you do it repeatedly, I will set off the burglar alarm. I regret having to adopt this scorched-earth policy, but if I don't stop hearing that tap-tap-tap (which is usually more like BANG-BANG-BANG) on my door repeatedly each day and night, I'm not just going to be depressed; I'm going to have a nervous breakdown that may result in a machete attack.] | |
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| Know what my son just made with his LEGOS? Little turkey-head just made, in his words, "A Cylon Raider that has super-energy."
Holy crap.
A frakkin' Cylon Raider (I've got a miniature die-cast one flanked by a pair of Vipers on the other computer monitor).
He also made a pair of Laserbeaks out of LEGOS. Laserbeak being a Transformer.
Oh, the geekery . . .
- Mood:amused
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| Aeon has the preview up for Aeon Fourteen, with snippets of stories by such luminaries as jaylake, Lavie Tidhar, and yours truly. For those who read and liked "The Butterfly Man" in Aeon Twelve, this story "Wild Among Hares" is a sequel, of sorts. The issue should go on sale in the next couple of weeks; I'll be sure to let you all know. :)  | |
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| Well, I'm pissed off about something that happened during lunch. It wasn't anything big, either. In fact it was very small. Something insignficant. Normally I'm usually quite easy-going, and it's very disconcerting for me to realize that I'm actually angry about something. Luckily I have not said anything yet, although as the minutes tick by I just get angrier and angrier.
Since there's no civil way to breach the subject, and since I am angry in complete disproportion to the slight -- and, in fact, I may even be the one in the wrong -- there's nothing I can do.
And I don't seem to be able to let go of the anger, either. It just stews and stews and gets darker and thicker and more vile. A very strange situation.
UPDATE: Due to the miracles of Get Fuzzy, I have recovered. I was angry for 2 hours straight, which is an exceptionally long time for me to hold a grudge (most last about 10-30 minutes). | |
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| He wound the mechanism. She wound him round her little finger. He wound the mechanism. She wound him up. And when the police found the clockwork spider by the body, its vial of poison empty, its bronze fangs stained with blood, they both wound up in jail.
That one's actually a reworking of a short story that I haven't been able to sell. Kind of funny to see it reduced to these elements.
In other news I am hoping to finish the current round of novel edits in the next hour or two. Then its into my wife's hands for the first read and a brutal bloody beating into shape. That however, won't stop these little pieces as I am now far too addicted. | |
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| It's a very cool thing. It has allowed me to converse with other fans, writers, authors and readers of SF in a very casual, friendly nature. Back in the dark ages, if you went to a con, chances are the writers featured were at a book signing table, either swarmed by fans or looking completely bored and uninterested in fandom. More agressive fans and writers would often write these authors and occasionally develop a rapport with them.
In participating in forums, I have had the chance to pick the brains of authors, editors, and even a legend or two in the field.
Once, at the Asimovs forum, an off-handed wise-ass comment drew the attention of none other than Harlan Ellison himself. He answered my question in all seriousness and stuck around until the doubting Thomases of the forum ambushed him, demanding just about everything including a DNA sample to prove his Harlaness. I knew it was really him after the second "kiddo."
I have had the honor of being virtually bitch-slapped by Gordon van Gelder and Gardner Dozois, when I let my typing and lack of research get ahead of me. That taught me to choose my words better, and to know what you are up against before commenting.
After college, the great diaspora of my real life friends led to scant conversations with those remaining through occasional emails. Moving from place to place like some elegiacal Wanderer meant I didn't have a good run at making new friends either.
Through forums and such, I got to talk to people, share ideas, and eventually share stories and work on writing with some of them. They rock. And what's pretty cool about that is they actually read things I send to them. You can't even count on Mom or your significant other/spouse for that.
The things I've learned just from participating in forums has been more valuable to my writing than the classes I took in college. It's nice to know that we few, we happy, suffering, writing few, can have a meeting of the minds to discus something pretty much the rest of the population could hardly care less about. And it's all there in the electrons. Just hanging out. | |
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| My vacation joy is complete: I just got a phone call from PetStay, our local pet-sitting company, confirming that Maya will be able to stay in a family home while we're in Stockholm. Whew! Maya will be soooo much happier there than in a kennel, and Patrick and I will be happier in Stockholm knowing that she isn't lonely and scared while we're off having fun. Now I can happily settle into fantasies of gorgeous Swedish kanalbulle (cinnamon rolls - omnipresent and soooooo delicious!) and 18th-century palaces. Perfect! And less than three weeks to wait. :) In the meantime, I've been re-reading Patricia McKillip's Solstice Wood, which I like even more on the second reading. (The first reading was on a long plane trip, which is never a bonus for any book. I'm generally so exhausted and out of it by the end of the plane trip that whatever novel I'm reading is lucky to have even half my mind focused on it.) It's a really lovely book, written with all the lyricism of her high fantasy novels, but with a really convincing modern American setting. (Actually, she does something really interesting there, because it's a kind-of sequel to her earlier book Winter Rose [which I adore], which was DEFINITELY a high fantasy novel...except that now it's being looked back on as real history. Very strange, and it shouldn't work but somehow really does...) My single quibble with the book is one of my old standbys: I really hate it when writers toss in dogs (or other pets) as character-flavor without actually thinking through the lifestyle implications. The heroine's boyfriend Madison is a great guy, very responsible and caring, and partway through the book, the heroine thinks about all the wonderful things about him, including his sweet mixed-breed dog...and I thought, wait...what???? - because the book started with Madison sleeping over at the heroine's house, as usual, after a nice evening together, and there's no dog in sight! So I was left wondering: did he leave the dog at home alone for at least 14-16 hours? And is that his regular routine? In which case, he is really not the nice, responsible guy he's supposed to be... Or was it just that the idea of a dog for Madison was tossed in to show off his nice-guy-ness without actually thinking the implications through? It was a really small niggle in a book that's genuinely wonderful overall - evocative, magical, and insightful about family relationships and misunderstandings - so I don't want to put anyone off the book by my ranting. Patricia McKillip is one of my favorite fantasy authors, hands-down. But I do wish authors wouldn't toss in dependent pets - or, for that matter, children (I'm thinking of those awful romantic comedies where the hero's adorable and saccharine-sweet kids suddenly show up partway through just for a quick cameo to show off his softer side) - without taking them into consideration when they're showing the rest of their character's lifestyle. (On the other hand, I'm such a dog nut that if an author gives the protagonist a realistic dog, believably integrated into their lifestyle, I'll forgive a whole multitude of other flaws, just for the dog's sake! It's one of the things I love about Jenny Crusie's novels, and it sold me on Agatha Christie's By the Pricking of my Thumbs despite various other issues I had with the novel. I am a total sucker that way.) | |
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| My recent review of EC Comics Sampler, here on this blog, has been noticed. Scoop has mentioned it and linked to my journal. | |
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