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うさ-p: It got all pruny in the brain water.
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| Change and decay in all about I see |
[May. 25th, 2012|09:40 am] |
Some change passes muster, at least in the boys' eyes. We are trying them on a self-service system, full bowls of crunchies all the time. They have eaten ... well, not enormously, but significantly more than usual overnight, and were not at all hungry this morning. Which means they were not making nuisances of themselves at five o'clock, which is a win on Karen's calendar. We'll see how it goes, if the scoffing levels off; if they become little rotund balls of furry blubber, we'll think again.
In other news, I can report that the sun is actually not shining - oh wait, yes it is. There are fluffy white stuffs in the sky, that come and go. I think they should go and go; I have got used to my eternal sunshine, and I want it back. This is Memorial Day Weekend, which is officially the start of summer; I have no interest in cloud.
This is Memorial Day Weekend, which is a weird phrase whichever way you cut it.
This is Memorial Day Weekend, and like a million Americans and one Brit we are hoping to buy a barbecue, or "grill" as they call it over here. I have stood over many a friend's barbecue, but never really had one of my own, so it's not really an art that I have cultivated yet. I intend cultivation. I've bought a book and everything. And of course I want the biggest kick-assest charcoal grill on the street, which of course is stupid, but. What's that you say? Baby steps? Pffft.
Also, clouds. It's getting cloudier. I've just looked at a weather forecast, for the first time in weeks: brr! Temperatures in the 60s and a 20% chance of rain. What's that about? My eternal summer shall not fade. It says so, right here...
What else? I dunno. We're conventioning all weekend, and I feel like a fraud. How can I be a writer, if I don't have a book to write? Also I am wearing my Linux T-shirt, which is outright fraudulent, as I'm writing this in Windows. Neither a novelist nor a geek I be. Every fair from fair sometime declines (and yes, I know I'm not being fair to myself; I never am), but I hadn't expected it yet.
Mostly I just want to cook stuff, really. And read books, and potter in the garden. But I have this edit to work through (very, very slowly, apparently), and accounts to render, and like that.
And, damn. Clouds. |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 25th, 2012|08:23 am] |
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http://www.bookslut.com/blog/archives/2012_05.php#019015 The English translator of the superb HHhH writes about the indirect road he took to becoming a translator of a language he was resistant to learn.
While it is undoubtedly an advantage to spend time in the country of your “source” language (France, in my case), living there full-time can have a deleterious effect on your “target” language (English), because French expressions and ways of phrasing can come to sound natural when they are, in fact, slightly strange in English. |
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| Signed books for Kickstarter supporters! Lots of authors! |
[May. 24th, 2012|12:09 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | books, cat rambo, cecilia tan, cg blog, del dryden, faith hunter, giveaway, jean johnson, jennifer brozek, kickstarter, nathan crowder, rj astruc, signed | ] |
To support and encourage pledges to the Crossed Genres Kickstarter, many of our wonderful friends have donated signed copies of their books for us to give away!
To win a book/books, all you have to do is pledge at least $10 to the Kickstarter by Friday, June 8! That puts your name in the metaphorical hat. Each $10 pledged puts your name in again, so the more you pledge, the better your chances of winning a signed book! Of course, this is in addition to the reward you’re promised from pledging.
NOTE: This is retroactive! If you’ve already pledged $10 or more, your name is already in!
Here are the books you could win. Remember, these are all SIGNED:
(♥ = erotica)
Pledge at least $10 in the next two weeks and one of these books could be yours! (And if you pledge $25 or more you can still get in on a free year of CG Magazine ebooks too!)
Originally published at Crossed Genres. You can comment here or there. |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 24th, 2012|02:05 am] |
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http://www.bookslut.com/blog/archives/2012_05.php#019012 Paul Fussell, the wide-ranging, stingingly opinionated literary scholar and cultural critic whose admiration for Samuel Johnson, Kingsley Amis and the Boy Scout Handbook and his withering scorn for the romanticization of war, the predominance of television and much of American society were dispensed in more than 20 books, died on Wednesday in Medford, Ore. He was 88.
I was gifted Fussell's The Great War and Modern Memory not too long ago. Amazing piece of work. |
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| I Have Fought My Way Here to the Castle Beyond the Goblin City |
[May. 24th, 2012|05:30 am] |
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Ten years ago, not long before the Queen’s Jubilee, I boarded a train at King’s Cross Station for Edinburgh. It wasn’t Platform 9 3/4, but it might as well have been. My life changed the moment that train pulled out of the brick archways and into the rolling green countryside beyond London–it was just beginning to be autumn then, and the trees were full of crows. I remember thinking about bird magic, auguries, every story I’d ever heard about England and Scotland. I was a tiny thing, a maiden in all but the technical sense. I knew, as the old novels say, nothing of the world. My EuroRail photo looked absurdly, hilariously, preposterously like an illustration of Snow White. I had a bacon sandwich. My mother was with me, a psychopomp in knock-off Prada sunglasses, bearing me across the wall and into the life I didn’t yet know I was in for. It was the first time I wanted something with that desperate, pure fire–and made it happen, by myself, with will and work. After all, if you grow up loving fairy tales and King Arthur and saints who battle monsters, you want the British Isles the way some kids want boyfriends. Edited to add: is that a silly reason to want to go to a country? Yep. Is it a direct outgrowth of the complicated relationship of American culture to British culture? Yep. Was I 21 years old, pretty silly, fully of inchoate dreamy nonsense and trying to learn how to be a real person? Absolutely. In fact, a big part of that growing up was going to a place I'd dreamed about and figuring out what reality there was like.
I lived there for something over a year. I came back to America for stupid reasons–but that’s what you do in your twenties. Make stupid decisions while meaning so earnestly well. My interviewer in Finland asked me: you’ve written about everywhere you’ve lived but Edinburgh. Where is Scotland in your books? I laughed a little, pressed my lips together as I always do when I’m thinking, looked out the window of our car at the swans nesting in the golden Nordic estuaries. This is what I told her: A poetry professor once told me that you can never name the thing you’re writing about. If the poem is about death, you can’t say the word death. Poems about memory shouldn’t go on about the thing itself. If you’re writing about grief, you can’t actually say grief, or sadness, or even tears. If you want to talk about love, love is the one word you can’t use. Edinburgh is the thing I am a poem about and do not name. Today, not long before the Queen’s Jubilee, I boarded a train at King’s Cross Station for Edinburgh. It was Platform 7. It’s just beginning to be summer now, and the fields are full of chartreuse flowers. The old churches spring up out of them like strange, huge blossoms. The train rushes over a stream so full of swans the current is pure white. I think about bird magic again. Auguries. I am no longer small. I know something of the world. Maybe not much of a something, but something. I have made things with my hands and heart. I look a bit pugnacious in my passport photo, like I still have something to prove. I had a bacon sandwich. My husband is with me and this time I am bearing him across the wall, to show him this object that sits at the bottom of my mind, a grey stone city with a castle and a mountain, a place that was once wholly full of fairy fruit and temptation and the rich mess of becoming bigger, becoming grown. That fairy fruit made everywhere else look dimmer for awhile. My goblin city, that swallowed me whole. I think it took falling in love with Maine to fix me–before then I always had the idea that of course I’d go back, that somehow, somehow, this was where I’d live when I could choose. I’ve been near tears most of the morning, riding north through sheep and cattle and chapels and flowers. When you love a place, it’s hard to leave, and harder still to come back. You hope it will be proud of you, of all you became when you left to seek your fortune. You hope it will be as you remembered; you hope you are still as it knew you. You hope it will forgive you long neglect, lines in your once-clear face, a hard blue edge of cynicism. O goblin city, I hope you will forgive me for never writing a book about you. Mirrored from cmv.com. Also appearing on @LJ and @DW. Read anywhere, comment anywhere. |
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| i just know that i'm harder to console |
[May. 23rd, 2012|09:01 pm] |
I'm working on "The Deeps of the Sky" tonight, and generating a regular festival of Words Word Don't Know:
luminesced, tropopause, sheeny, thicks, unnavigable, dartlike,
Meanwhile, I had a little argument with myself on twitter as to whether I should use some modestly bogus science to create a cool special effect. I went with it. ;-) Now I'm stopping because I have to figure out how the protagonist intervenes to stop the Bad Thing from happening, or how he mops up afterward...
Oh, I might have just done so. Woot! |
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| Okay, that's it |
[May. 23rd, 2012|01:48 pm] |
I have had it with today. It has, quite thoroughly, been had.
I was just loading up the dishwasher, and a steak knife plunged - I hate to commit the pathetic fallacy by ascribing purpose to a blade, but I have no notion how this can actually have happened, except by malice aforeplunge - off the counter and point-downward directly into my foot.
Blood occurred and everything.
I may have been muttering under my breath, as I headed for the bathroom to seek neosporin and band-aid. Actually, it may not have been under my breath at all, and not so much of a mutter, come to think. Direct conversation with an immaterial presence, perhaps.
Anyway. No more waiting in for UPS. I am going for a sodding walk, and we will see if at least one company can contrive to leave a box on the right sodding doorstep. |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 23rd, 2012|09:57 am] |
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http://www.bookslut.com/blog/archives/2012_05.php#019010 Berfrois has a good review of Gerard Toal and Carl Dahlman's Bosnia Remade, one of those books I long to read but know I will never have the time to sit with it. Probably. I would like the electronic add-on to my brain now that allows me to download huge amounts of information from nonfiction texts directly into my consciousness. Thanks. That's gotta be just six months away by now, right? Until that happens, detailed reviews of books I will probably never read offer the best substitute.
But while we're on the subject of the Balkans, probably best to note that the Atlantic website, bless their corrupt little hearts, has huge excerpts from Rebecca West's masterpiece on the region, Black Lamb and Grey Falcon. Even so, it's probably only about 10% of the full book, as it's 900+ pages. And every single one worth reading! |
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| Unless the LORD build the house |
[May. 23rd, 2012|11:39 am] |
Why do I feel like I labour in vain?
I labour in vain for a reason. Art is its own excuse. Stories can exist for themselves alone, and that's okay. Like those people who dig great networks of tunnels under their houses, and no one finds out till they're dead: if they hadn't done it, there wouldn't be all those tunnels, and the world would be a little less. It doesn't matter if no one else ever explores down there; it doesn't matter if officious bodies insist on filling it all in. There will always have been tunnels, new pathways to new places.
Most days, that has always been enough.
Today, not so much.
I should probably go for a walk or something, to evade the issue. Vitamin D and endorphins: always good. But I have an edit to work my way through, and I really need to be getting on with that; and I wanted to be here for Amazon's second run at delivering a package; and, yeah. Labour in vain. |
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| May Author Interviews! |
[May. 23rd, 2012|12:59 pm] |
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http://www.librarything.com/blogs/librarything/2012/05/may-author-interviews/ http://www.librarything.com/blogs/librarything/?p=3313 </a> This month’s State of the Thing, LibraryThing’s monthly newsletter of features, author interviews and various forms of bookish delight, is on its way to your inbox. You can also read it online. It includes author interviews with Hilary Mantel, Naomi Novik, Jonathan Gottschall, and Melissa Coleman.
I talked to Hilary Mantel about her new book Bring Up the Bodies, the sequel to Wolf Hall, published this month by Henry Holt.
Originally, you’ve said, you planned just “one enormous book” on Thomas Cromwell, but now we’re looking at a trilogy. When did you realize first that his story needed two books, and now three?
I think that fiction, even historical fiction, is inherently unpredictable. You know what the story is, but you don’t know until you tell it where its power is located, where
you will place the focus and how you need to shape it. I did originally imagine there would be just one book, but as I began to tell the story of Thomas Cromwell and Thomas More, I realized that it needed to be played out properly, that it couldn’t be hurried: that it was, in fact, the climax of a book, not an episode in a book. At that point, I decided that Wolf Hall would end with More’s death, and the royal party heading for the house named in the title. With Bring up the Bodies, the process of discovery was virtually the same, though it still caught me unawares. I came to write the end of the Boleyns, and realized that I already had a book; the buildup to that tragedy is so stealthy, the climax so horrifying, that I thought the reader would want to pause, close the book, take a breath.
So the whole project reshaped itself for a second time, and very swiftly; in each case, the process of realization took a split second; and the second after that, it seemed obvious. To some readers it might sound as if my method of work is very disorganized. I’d prefer to think of it as an organic, evolving process: sudden discoveries and sudden demands breeding changes of tactics. I like to gather my material, think for a long time, but make the business of writing itself as spontaneous and flexible as possible. If I can I like to take myself by surprise.
What was it about Thomas Cromwell that initially drew you to him as a way to write about the Tudor period?
It appealed to me because his character had never been explored properly in fiction or drama. Cromwell was the son of a blacksmith and brewer, and this stratified, hierarchical society, he rose to become the king’s right-hand man and eventually Earl of Essex; you have to ask, how did he do it? Luck? Calculation? Both, surely, but what combination of the two? And what drove him? When you worked for Henry VIII, the stakes were so high. One slip and you were dead. I wanted to try to work out what combination of ambition and idealism motivated Cromwell. In what ways was he typical of his time, and in what ways unique? And as I was asking myself, as I always do when I write I historical fiction, how did this man’s life feel, from the inside?
When you stand in Cromwell’s shoes, familiar events are defamiliarised. The story, which is irresistible in itself, comes up fresh and new.
Read the rest of our interview with Hilary Mantel.
I also talked to Naomi Novik, the author of the fascinating Temeraire fantasy series. The latest volume, Crucible of Gold, was published in March by Del Rey. Some excerpts:
On your website, you offer a few “deleted scenes” from the Temeraire books, and you note there “I tend to write fast and revise heavily, and I cut liberally.” Tell us a bit more about your writing process: when do you do most of your writing? Where? Do you compose in longhand, or use a computer?
I have no rules other than that I tend to change my rules fairly often. Each book has worked differently. My life has changed quite a lot over the course of writing the series—I have a new baby now, so I write from 9:30 to 4:30 because that’s when I have child care. My natural state of writing is really more writing from 11 in the morning to 3 a.m.; that’s my intuitive style. I do generally like to work at a fairly fast pace—when it’s flowing I’m getting two to three thousand words a day. I still like to get the skeleton down and then polish it. My single biggest trick for when I need to focus and get productivity is to go somewhere where there isn’t internet, so I’ll go to a café with a laptop and just write there. It’s actually getting increasingly hard to avoid the internet, though. I don’t really write longhand unless I get stuck; if I get stuck, then what I do is grab a journal and start writing some longhand, and that loosens things up a bit. Once I’ve started, I like so much having the freedom to revise heavily and save different versions that I always really want to be on the computer.
Anything you’d like to tell us about the next Temeraire volume (the eighth)? Have you selected a title yet? Any hint of where Laurence and Temeraire might be off to next?
My working title for it is “Luck and Palaces,” and I suppose I can give a hint, which is that that is from a translation of poems by Wisława Szymborska, and the line is about the city of Kyoto. So that’s my little hint. The other clue I will give is that it’s the year 1812.
Read the rest of our interview with Naomi Novik.
I had the chance to talk with Jonathan Gottschall about The Storytelling Animal: How Stories Make Us Human, published in April by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt.
If you can give us the nutshell version, what is it about stories (whether it be fiction, or drama, or televised sports, or dreams, or computer games) that makes us as humans so attracted to them, and gives them such a powerful hold over us?
Homo sapiens is this weird sort of primate that lives inside stories, and we don’t know why for certain. I cover several competing ideas in the book, but they all break down into two big categories. 1) We like stories because they have hidden evolutionary benefits. 2) The mind isn’t designed for story, it has a glitch that makes it vulnerable to story. In the latter view, fiction is like porn—a mere pleasure technology that we’ve invented to titillate the pleasure circuits of the brain. I argue that story addiction is mainly good for us: story is a whetstone for the mind, and it acts as a kind of social glue—helping to bind individuals together into functioning societies.
It was an experience with a song that prompted you to write this book, as you note in the opening pages. Tell us about that moment, and do you see significant differences in the way humans are affected by stories in different media (print, song, video, &c.), or does the impact tend to be similar?
One day, I was driving down the highway and happened to hear the country music artist Chuck Wicks singing “Stealing Cinderella”—a song about a little girl growing up to leave her father behind. Before I knew it, I was blind from tears, and I had to veer off on the road to get control of myself and to mourn the time—still more than a decade off—when my own little girls would fly the nest. I sat there on the side of the road feeling sheepish and wondering, “What just happened?” I wrote the book to try to answer that question. How can stories—the fake struggles of fake people—have such incredible power over us? Why are we storytelling animals?
And yes, different forms of storytelling affect us in different ways. Most popular songs are stories set to music, and they evoke powerful emotion. The same goes for films. People respond so intensely and authentically to film, that when psychologists want to study an emotion, like sadness, they subject people to clips from tear-jerkers like “Old Yeller” or “Love Story”.
Read the rest of our interview with Jonathan Gottschall.
Last but not least, Lisa Carey interviewed Melissa Coleman about her book This Life Is in Your Hands: One Dream, Sixty Acres, and a Family’s Heartbreak, now out in paperback.
What made you decide to write this memoir? Was it something you always intended to write about?
Somehow I managed to avoid writing, and talking much, about my childhood for many years, fearing, I think, that I was responsible for some of the tragic things that happened. However, with the birth of my children, the past began urging me to make peace. I also found myself wanting to celebrate the beauty and connection to nature in my childhood, and the amazing effort made by my father, Eliot Coleman, and others, to lay the foundations for today’s organic food revolution.
How much research was involved to bring such rich detail to the parts that occurred before you were old enough to remember it? You have your mother’s journals. Did your parents help you otherwise in the process of telling this story?
I began with my own scraps of memories, images from photos, and family stories, but I needed to do a lot of research to fill in the blanks. There was my mother’s journal, numerous news articles about us, books by the Nearings and others, and I tracked down and interviewed many of the apprentices and people who visited us during the 1970s. It was only with the help of all these people, especially my parents, that I was able to tell this story.
Was this a difficult book to write? Or was it liberating?
Both! It’s incredibly difficult to dig into painful events in the past, but also very rewarding to let them go and find the beauty beneath. The liberation that came was something like what comes from making compost. You put all these scraps of things into a pile and let them settle and soon enough they turn into black gold, as my father calls compost, the rich soil in which new life can grow.
Read the rest of Lisa’s interview with Melissa Coleman.
Catch up on previous State of the Thing newsletters.
If you don’t get State of the Thing, you can add it in your email preferences. You also have to have an email address listed. |
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| Chaz'z Homework (you know you want to do it) |
[May. 23rd, 2012|08:29 am] |
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Okay, people. I have to do panels at the weekend, for BayCon, and we all know how confident I am in my articulacy, knowledge, memory etc. So help me out here. Particularly, one panel is about alternative lifestyles in SF & fantasy, "from Ethan of Athos to Heinlein's line marriages". So we've got those two covered. What else should I be talking about? (It's very likely that I have actually, y'know, read it. It's just that as soon as someone starts making lists and asking questions, my mind goes sensationally blank. And stays that way. I've been thinking about this for a week...) |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 23rd, 2012|06:27 am] |
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http://www.bookslut.com/blog/archives/2012_05.php#019009 Violette dreamt of milky baths
Of gorgeous gowns of fresh bread
Of gorgeous gowns of pure blood
One day there will be no more fathers
In the gardens of youth
There will be strangers
All the strangers
Men for whom you are always brand new
And the very first
Men for whom you can escape from yourself
Men for whom you are nobody's daughter
Violette dreamt of undoing
and undid
The hideous vipers' knot of blood connections
- Paul Éluard, quoted in Sarah Maza's Violette Noziere: A Story of Murder in 1930s Paris |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 23rd, 2012|03:53 am] |
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http://www.bookslut.com/blog/archives/2012_05.php#019008 I don't know if you've heard, but Alain de Botton, hot on the heels of his book How to Think More About Sex, is going to reinvent porn. I know! There's no use making any jokes about it, Hadley Freeman has already made all the good ones.
For those who believe that philosophy is, by and large, little more than stating the obvious with extra jazz hands, De Botton's porn manifesto will not persuade them otherwise. Similarly, to those who see De Botton as a precious philosopher with little connection to the real world, again, you should brace yourselves for your opinions to remain utterly unchanged. |
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| MENIAL: Skilled Labor in SF – submission deadline extended through June |
[May. 23rd, 2012|10:08 am] |
The deadline for submissions to CGP’s upcoming anthology MENIAL: Skilled Labor in Science Fiction has been extended a month. The deadline for sending submissions is now June 30.
Other people treat laborers like the dirt they work with. But skilled labor is crucial to the continuation of human culture on earth – and if we ever wish to visit the stars, skilled labor will be indispensable.
We want stories about men and women who understand the nuts and bolts, the atmosphere and the water and the soil. You know – the things that keep us alive. We want characters who get their hands dirty every day; people who aren’t too proud to work their bodies at least as hard as their minds.
We welcome and strongly encourage submissions with underrepresented main characters: characters of color, LGBTQ characters, women characters, etc.!
We decided to extend the deadline largely because of the surprising success of our Kickstarter, which saved Menial (and the rest of our 2013 projects) in one day! We want to ensure that as many people as possible can get their submissions in, so Menial turns out even more awesome! =)
Submission guidelines for Menial are here. If you have a story idea but didn’t think you had time, now you have no excuse! Send us your stories!
Originally published at Crossed Genres. You can comment here or there. |
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| World Fantasy Award Nominations: Need Suggestions! |
[May. 23rd, 2012|08:19 am] |
Lifetime Achievement Susan Cooper Samuel Delany Tanith Lee Hayao Miyazaki Joyce Carol Oates
Novel Mechanique, Genevieve Valentine (Prime Books) The Night Circus, Erin Morgenstern (Doubleday) The Tiger's Wife: A Novel, by Téa Obreht (Random House) Mr. Fox, Helen Oyeyemi (Riverhead) Akata Witch, Nnedi Okorafor (Viking) Novella Silently and Very Fast by Catherynne M. Valente (WSFA Press / Clarkesworld Magazine) “The Man Who Bridged the Mist” by Kij Johnson (Asimov’s 10-11/11) “The Summer People” by Kelly Link (Tin House: The Ecstatic/Steampunk!) “The Adakian Eagle” by Bradley Denton (Down These Strange Streets) “Near Zennor” by Elizabeth Hand (A Book of Horrors) Short Story “The Sandal-Bride” by Genevieve Valentine (Fantasy 3/11) “The Cartographer Wasps and the Anarchist Bees” by E. Lily Yu (Clarkesworld 4/11) “The Paper Menagerie” by Ken Liu (F&SF 3-4/11) “Trickster” by Mari Ness (Clarkesworld 6/11) “Of Men and Wolves” by An Owomoyela (Fantasy 2/11) Anthology Steampunk!: An Anthology of Fantastically Rich and Strange Stories, Kelly Link & Gavin J. Grant, eds. (Candlewick) The Thackery T. Lambshead Cabinet of Curiosities, Ann VanderMeer & Jeff VanderMeer, eds. (HarperVoyager) The Weird: A Compendium of Strange and Dark Stories, Ann VanderMeer & Jeff VanderMeer, eds. (Corvus) Blood and Other Cravings, Ellen Datlow (Tor Books) Steam-Powered I: Lesbian Steampunk Stories & Steam-Powered II: More Lesbian Steampunk Stories, Joselle Vanderhooft (Torquere Press)
Collection The Monkey’s Wedding and Other Stories, Joan Aiken (Small Beer Press) After the Apocalypse, Maureen F. McHugh (Small Beer Press) Yellowcake, Margo Lanagan (Unwin) The Corn Maiden, Joyce Carol Oates (Mysterious Press) Unpossible and Other Stories, Daryl Gregory (Fairwood)
Artist n/a (I simply don't know enough to evaluate this category) Professional SJ Chambers and Jeff VanderMeer, for The Steampunk Bible Brett Alexander Savory and Sandra Kasturi, for ChiZine Devi Pillai, for Orbit Books Gavin Grant and Kelly Link, for Small Beer Press Jacob Weisman, for Tachyon Publications Nonprofessional Kate Baker, Neil Clarke, and Sean Wallace, for Clarkesworld Magazine Cat Rambo, for editing and managing Fantasy Magazine Charles Tan, for Bibliophile Stalker Lavie Tidhar, for The World SF blog Ann VanderMeer, for editing Weird Tales |
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| World Fantasy Award Nominations: Susan Cooper, for Lifetime Achievement |
[May. 23rd, 2012|07:41 am] |
Susan Cooper is obviously well known for The Dark Is Rising sequence, but she's also on the Board of the National Children's Book and Literacy Alliance, a U.S. nonprofit organization that advocates for literacy, literature, and libraries.
It seems an oversight that she hasn't been given a Lifetime Achievement already. |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 23rd, 2012|03:43 am] |
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http://www.bookslut.com/blog/archives/2012_05.php#019007 How I hate doing this stuff on the blog, but we're being practical.
So! Looking for subletters for my Berlin apartment for July and August, possibly in the fall as well. It's a nice, quiet space in Prenzlauer Berg, a 3 minute walk from public transit. Full of books, obviously, in English and German. There's also a Russian book that I just found the other day, of unknown origins. Maybe you can tell me if it's good or not.
Email me if interested in talking about it. It's a nice little place to get a lot of writing done in the day and then do a lot of street drinking at night. |
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| Blues in a Suitcase |
[May. 22nd, 2012|11:07 pm] |
Nothing gingers you up in the ever-onerous packing (for WisCon) like listening to WUMB's fabulous X-Stream Folk channel: All Blues All the Time! Hearing the 'plaints of those whose man done gone, or who cannot ride that last train home, makes trying to decide which shirts are too many seem a little less grave. A little.
And yes, I am burying the lead: Delia won the Norton Award at the Nebulas this weekend in D.C.!!! It was an amazing weekend, and I hope to do it justice here soon. Very happy, we are.
Now to pack up the luggage, la la la.... |
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| Ah, yes. Normal service, resumption of. As you were, chaps. |
[May. 22nd, 2012|04:13 pm] |
Heh: I should like to make it clear that I have never done this before, this hosting a pizza party thing. Indeed, I have never made pizza before. I am ... perhaps ever so slightly nervous about it?
Anyway. I made a sauce, for the spreading on the pizza base, as I understand is traditional. And I had a goal in my head, and I went chop-chop, simmer-simmer, whizz-whizz; and took the lid off the whizzer and tasted with my finger and surprised myself utterly by saying, "Excellent - well done, me!" without the hint of a tone of irony in it. I actually meant it as praise, and I am so not accustomed to hearing that from me.
And then in an excess of delight I tipped the sauce into a pretty white bowl and the blade of the whizzer fell out into it and thus caused the Great Red Spot which in a peculiar time-dilation-reversal effect the planet Jupiter has in fact stolen from me, and then I heard myself say "Oh, excellent. Very well done!" and we were back to business as usual, because the level of weary contempt was just immaculate.
In other news, stripping a chicken with Mac is the greatest fun imaginable. He gets little bits of chicken, and I get to play bop-Mac-on-the-nose-with-a-tossed-bit-of-chicken. Which my eye-hand coordination has never been any good, but it's pretty good at that. |
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| Coo. |
[May. 22nd, 2012|02:43 pm] |
A jumbo just landed at Moffett Field. Which means basically that it passed directly over our garden, very very low and slow. Anyone expecting Obama?
In other news, I'm tired. To the point of being suddenly barely able to function. Most of the last hour, I have just sat and whimpered gently. Which is not so good, when we have guests tonight and I have to prepare. I shall grind on through, but... Yeah. Tired. Did I not sleep last night, or something? (I was better this morning, I finished a short story in a cafe downtown and then shopped for essentials. Basil, mascarpone, spare wine, like that. Chillies. But something in that programme has drained me utterly. *whimpers again*) |
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| To Girls About Religious Men Who Fear You |
[May. 22nd, 2012|03:50 pm] |
From Huffington Post, A Message to Girls About Religious Men Who Fear You. It's long, but it's well worth reading. The writer, Soraya Chemaly, covers a number of stories that have been in the news of late, with links, from the girl softball player who was made the center of a fuss when a rival school pulled out of the state finals so they wouldn't have to play a team with a girl on it, to girls maimed in "honor" crimes, to investigations of the Girl Scouts, to girls who are stoned for going to school.
I will add, Chemaly says there are globally connected networks of women and men who will help and support girls, but there are also networks of girls, more than ever, who are coming forward to help and advise each other. Communication gives you more power than you have ever had--don't hesitate to use it. Over and over I read of girls and young women speaking out for themselves and each other in all kinds of ways, be they help projects, films, music, and blogs. You don't have to wait for some well-meaning adult to step in (and take the credit).
Chemaly also points out that not all women will support you. You've probably noticed this for yourselves, but it was a hard and honest thing for her to say. Too many adult women side with men, thinking it will earn them status and a place at the top table with the men. Too many girls suck up to guys and bash other girls for the same reasons, thinking this will get them a piece of guy power. It doesn't. Female and male alike, they will attack your looks, your sexuality, your body, your chastity, your honesty, all the things that Chemaly mentions, all out of fear.
I'm not suggesting that you bash other girls. I'm hoping that you'll ask such girls why they're going after their own natural allies, when guys are too well known for dumping them the first time something (someone) better comes along. They may not get it. They may continue to go with where they believe the power and the status is. All you can do is stand up, and keep standing up, for girls and women.
These people who come after you under the guise of religion and caring for your soul? They only care for their own, male, power. Don't let them grind you down. Know that you can change the world in spite of these jealous, fearful people. Take pride in yourself and in each other, and be wary of those who use the language of faith to make you feel bad about yourself. |
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| World Fantasy Award Nominations: Cat Rambo, for Fantasy Magazine |
[May. 22nd, 2012|02:09 pm] |
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I've been distracted, lately, but I do want to do a quick shout-out, for the nonprofessional category, for: Cat Rambo for Fantasy Magazine
Cat gave four years to editing and managing Fantasy Magazine, so I think it'd be nice to give her a nod this year.
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| Kickstarter stretch goal: Bring back Crossed Genres Magazine! |
[May. 22nd, 2012|01:10 pm] |
(Cross-posted from Kickstarter)
Now that we’ve reached our initial $4000 goal – in less than a day, yowza! – It’s time for a stretch goal. We thought up this goal at the beginning, but weren’t sure we’d get the chance to go for it – we thought $4k was ambitious! But here we are!
Crossed Genres Magazine, the genre-twisting zine that started it all, was retired at the end of 2011 after 36 issues. The zine, which was published free on the CG website (and as quarterly print/ebooks), had a different genre or theme each month, which writers had to combine with science fiction and/or fantasy. We covered everything from classic genres like Romance and Mystery; to archetypes (like a trio of issues: Heroes & Heroines, Sidekicks & Minions, and Villains); to more nebulous concepts like Anthropomorphism or Luck.
CG Magazine was our most effective way of continuously pushing progressive speculative fiction. During its run we dedicated issues to LGBTQ characters, characters of color, serious tales starring children… the final issue’s theme was Different – “who and what decides or defines our differences, and why; what sets us apart and how can differences bring us together.”
We were sad to see CG Magazine go, but the combination of lost money and time commitment was too much for us at the time. Since then, after much consideration and lamenting its loss, we’ve decided that if we can eliminate paying for the zine out-of-pocket, we’ll make time for it. We didn’t actually want to close the zine, and a lot of people were upset that it was gone – we received many emails that were flat-out furious – so we’re hopeful that we may be able to resurrect it.
Therefore: If the Kickstarter surpasses $5500 in total pledges, we will bring back Crossed Genres Magazine starting at the beginning of 2013!
Moreover, we wanted to make sure our pledgers get to reap the benefits of the resurrection. SO: If we do reach $5500, and re-launch the zine – everyone who pledges at least $25 will receive ebooks of the first year of the resurrected zine, for no extra, in addition to your pledge rewards! (YES this is retroactive. If you’ve already pledged, you’ll still benefit!)
We’re excited at the opportunity to throw ourselves back into the zine – we have over seven YEARS worth of monthly genres/themes we didn’t get to! So let’s bring it back & bring it on!
-Kay & Bart
Originally published at Crossed Genres. You can comment here or there. |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 22nd, 2012|10:38 am] |
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http://www.bookslut.com/blog/archives/2012_05.php#019006 This week's Kirkus Q&A is with Alix Shulman, regarding her caustic little novel Menage. We talk about what makes a piece of fiction feminist, and the corrosive powers of money in art.
as a fiction writer I have always balked at restrictions imposed by various prescriptions about what feminist fiction should be. In fact, I wrote an essay exploring what feminist fiction is, “The Taint,” reprinted in my new collection, A Marriage Agreement and Other Essays. In it I quote Naomi Weisstein’s broad definition: “Feminist fiction is fiction that does not admire patriarchy or accept its ideology. Nor does it accept its male characters as necessarily more exciting, important, or valuable than its female characters. In addition, the female characters... whether they be villains or heroes...are neither necessarily nice nor necessarily beautiful. In this way feminist fiction challenges the patriarchal belief in the fixed and eternal nature of men and women.” |
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| Kickstarter Update #1: What a Day! |
[May. 22nd, 2012|09:17 am] |
(Cross-posted from Kickstarter)
Everyone, we hardly know what to say! It’s been just 20 hours since we launched our Kickstarter, and we’re already at $3,363 – that’s 84% of our goal! Unbelievable! This is far beyond anything we’d have expected at this point.
With only $637 to go, we were even wondering if we’d make the goal within 24 hours! That would be incredible!
We had an idea for a stretch goal – a secondary goal we’d shoot for if we ever reached the first one. But we feared that $4000 was ambitious enough on its own, so we didn’t know if we’d ever get to really try for the stretch goal. Now, it sure looks like we will!
It’ll benefit pledgers, too. We have a couple of things we’re planning to thank our supporters, beyond the rewards already listed.
For now though, we’re just thrilled to be so close to our goal – reaching that $4000 and guaranteeing the continuation of Crossed Genres will be a such an incredible relief! Let’s keep it up, and push it over the top!
Thank you, thank you, thank you!
-Bart and Kay
P.S. – when we hit our goal, we’ll post a few outtakes of our son Baz from the KS video!
Originally published at Crossed Genres. You can comment here or there. |
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| Support: Nightmare Magazine |
[May. 22nd, 2012|08:37 am] |
Nightmare Magazine is a monthly magazine of horror and dark fantasy short fiction which will be published both online and in ebook format. This Kickstarter is intended to help fund the first issue and to get the magazine off the ground. |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 22nd, 2012|02:53 am] |
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http://www.bookslut.com/blog/archives/2012_05.php#019005 Ahmet Sik, a Turkish journalist and author recently released from prison, says he is working with his lawyers to prepare for June 18, his next day in court, as he fights accusations that he was part of a plot known as Ergenekon, aimed at toppling the governing Justice and Development Party.
During an interview on the campus of Bilgi University, where he teaches, Mr. Sik said Monday that whether he was convicted or exonerated, it would not change the oppression of the media in Turkey. |
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| THE VOYAGE OF THE SPACE BEAGLE by A.E. van Vogt |
[May. 22nd, 2012|12:46 am] |
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It's been a while since I bored into a book like a hopped-up literary woodpecker, so here's some brain spillage originally written last year and never posted.

Left: "Black Destroyer," 1939
Right: Current edition from Orb Books.
Hot jets, Kinnison! What a jaunt in the way-back machine this is. I first became aware of The Voyage of the Space Beagle via Barlowe's Guide to Extraterrestrials as a kid, and once again waited a mere two decades before reading the source material. At this rate, I'll have all of my seventh-grade math homework turned in by December, 2013.
Voyage is a 1950 fix-up of four previously published short stories, forming a loosely chronological account of the titular Space Beagle's multi-year exploration beyond the confines of the Milky Way. Its thousand-man crew, chemically castrated for the duration to keep their minds firmly on Doing Science, is preyed upon by a series of increasingly dangerous creatures, and must also deal with internal pressures, scientific disputes, and a case of dreaded SPACE MADNESS.
The Voyage of the Space Beagle was influential as all hell, out of proportion to what's actually on the page. Philip K. Dick claimed van Vogt as a major influence; so did Harlan Ellison. You can see it here, a distinct flavor that was carried into Ellison's early SF work. You can also see this book's profound effect on Star Trek, with its strange planets, predatory aliens, and mysterious threats to the ship. Van Vogt even took legal action against the producers of the 1979 movie Alien, a suit that was settled out of court, based on arguable similarities between xenomorphs and his own egg-implanting Ixtl.
Voyage is an affable relic of the Big Science Done Big era of SF. The ship jaunts about at hyperluminary speeds, courtesy of Whoosh-Zoom engines powered by authorial whim. There are all the expected toys... gigantic heat-rays, semi-portable atomic furnaces, visiplates, vibrator guns. It has the same ludicrous-but-lovable feel of Doc Smith's Lensmen series, where scientific progress is almost always just a matter of dumping more power into a bigger thingamajig (if you yelled "BUS BARS!" just now, bless you).
What it isn't, curiously enough, is a true log of a voyage and its voyagers. The episodic nature of the story would be less stark if there were some context provided, some glimpse of home, some notion of how the Space Beagle compares to anything else humanity is doing. Exploring vacuum in a vacuum is not as interesting as it could be. No real narrative integument was provided when these short stories were stitched into the vague shape of a novel.
Also, the real heart of the book, for which the voyage is merely a framing device, is how an advanced interdisciplinary approach to the sciences called Nexialism proves the best solution to each of the Beagle's challenges when the more stratified and traditional sciences allegedly fall short of the big picture. This is all well and good as far as hobbyhorses go, but it would have helped the story if some of the solutions implemented to fend off each alien attack weren't so conveniently dim-witted.
For example, in the novel's first major incident, adapted from the short story "Black Destroyer," a panther-like creature called coeurl feigns harmlessness to get aboard the Beagle. Coeurl is actually a ravenous, ultra-strong, life-draining predator, with the ability to detect and manipulate energy using whisker-like appendages. It can neutralize the deadly force of human weapons, a fact the humans realize once the thing is on the loose and killing people. So, when coeurl (constantly referred to by the men as "pussy")* locks itself in the Beagle's engine spaces, what do they do? Do they even attempt to poison it? To asphyxiate it? Nope. They wheel out their gigantic heat-ray projectors and start melting their way into the engine room.
Yes. To deal with an energy-manipulating creature, they hurl more energy at it! While it's mucking with the ship's engines, no less. The Beagle is described as having a truly impressive workshop capacity, but even so, you'd think the notion of blasting apart your own engine compartment when your ship is thousands of light-centuries from home would give sober and non-libidinous men pause. What do they expect to do if they melt their propulsion center, break out the oars?
There is also a puzzlingly gimlet-eyed overuse of purely speculative social science (though van Vogt deserves props for making his social scientist, Korita, Japanese in a time when the Japanese were not exactly sympathetically portrayed in much American media). Korita is constantly brought on stage to speculate on the social structure and cultural foibles of the singular aliens the Beagle encounters, always in the complete absence of any shred of context or evidence. Yet Korita is made to accurately diagnose potential weaknesses in the hearts and minds of these creatures (nobody even brings up the possibility that these entities might be outcast or atypical) This ain't science, even in a context that generously allows for atomic rayguns and Whoosh-Zoom engines. It's bullshit without a scaffold.
Despite this, The Voyage of the Space Beagle still moves smoothly across the eyeballs in a way too many of its contemporaries couldn't aspire to even when they were fresh. It's reasonable and penetrable fun; penetrable, perhaps, because it had such a hand in defining a certain geometry of space opera still quite familiar to us decades later.
Damon Knight was often criticized for his perceived harshness toward van Vogt's work, but I think Knight judged fairly in 1950 when he wrote: "...this department's thesis on van Vogt is (a) that the man has a very respectable talent as a writer, and (b) that he consistently misuses it." Van Vogt operated energetically in both the thoughtful and thoughtless modes of invention, and if he fell short of constructing mature narratives, at least he had the ability to occasionally evoke real feelings of mystery and awe.
*****
*It is an exceptionally juvenile cheap shot, I admit, but it's difficult to keep a straight face at frequent reference to how the voyagers "beat pussy" and "chased pussy off the ship." They're two million light-years from the nearest woman and drenched in libido-deadening drugs; no shit they chased pussy off the ship. |
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| Calling for a redefinition of the word "good" |
[May. 21st, 2012|08:14 pm] |
When you have access - through the heedlessness of one of your people - to the whole damn chicken, and all you take is a single bone that's already been gnawed free of flesh? I call that pretty damn good, and I applaud the boy.
Without quite managing to understand him, mind, because that is one pretty damn good roast chicken. Also the roasted purple cauliflower was good, but none of that remains; neither the roasted fingerlings (I loooove fingerlings, and the way I do them), nor the gravy either. Nomming was.
So I have put the chicken somewhere slightly safer (in the cooling oven, since you ask, the fridge being entirely full of pizza dough and toppings and accumulated other stuffs; I should probably clear out some of it tomorrow, at least enough to make space to put beer in), and I am busily putting the wine somewhere very safe indeed before Karen decides she wants some (hey, I had to open a bottle, for the gravy needed a splash - how else was I to deglaze the pan? - and I did offer her a glass then, but she declined; and I'm not at all sure how many times I can go through to where she's digging mines or slaying orcs or whatever and say "d'you want some wine now...?" without sounding like an alcoholic needy for company to drag down with him, so I think it's better if I just drink it, y'know?). |
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| New things! Good and not so good! |
[May. 21st, 2012|06:25 pm] |
Good: I have cut a purple cauliflower into florets, and it was just so much fun. And no, I am not being ironical at all. I thoroughly enjoyed it.
Also good, but oof: I have made pizza dough to rest in the fridge overnight and be ready for a build-your-own party tomorrow. Never done that before. It is both sticky and stiff; I should probably have worked it for longer, but oof. That was as much as my shoulders were good for, never mind my hands.
Possibly not good at all: I'm not sure yet, but Amazon may have let me down. They say my package was delivered at 9:02 this morning; I say it was not. Certainly I have no package. They also say that occasionally their deliverypersons may bleep a package as "delivered" when what they mean is "loaded onto the van for delivery". I have spent all day believing this, and waiting with ever-decreasing optimism to see if a package manifests. If it doesn't, then urgh and sigh and so forth, and we will begin to unravel the oy-where's-my-stuff? process. Forward to which, you may gather, I am not looking. |
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| Hee |
[May. 21st, 2012|04:46 pm] |
So there I was at the kitchen table, just me and my edit of Pandaemonium and my beer and Mac and the sunshine; and I was half inclined to take a photo and post it, except that you-all have seen a lot of photos of the cats helping to edit in that non-transparent way they have - and then Mac realised that the sun was moving in that irritating way it has, and he rolled over to get himself back into the fullness of it.
And he rolled himself right off the table.
People, I may have lol'd. |
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| A Kickstarter to save Crossed Genres |
[May. 21st, 2012|01:24 pm] |
Crossed Genres’ co-publishers are both out of work, and we’re at risk of losing all our funds to continue publishing! So we’ve launched a Kickstarter to cover our publication costs through 2013 and save CGP!
100% of the $4000 fundraising goal will be used for publishing new books. Over half will go directly to authors and artists for fiction and cover art. The rest will pay for editorial, production and distribution costs, as well as some advertising/publicity. (None of it will go into our pockets. We’ll be very happy to simply not lose money any more.)
WHAT WILL THE KICKSTARTER PAY FOR?
Projects in 2013 will include:
- Menial: Skilled Labor in Science Fiction</p>
Other people treat laborers like the dirt they work with. But skilled labor is crucial to the continuation of human culture on earth – and if we ever wish to visit the stars, skilled labor will be indispensable.
We want stories about men and women who understand the nuts and bolts, the atmosphere and the water and the soil. You know – the things that keep us alive. We want characters who get their hands dirty every day; people who aren’t too proud to work their bodies at least as hard as their minds.
- Winter Well, speculative novellas about older women
We’re looking for speculative stories featuring women of advancing age (late middle age and older). They’re smart, they’re tough, and they have wills of their own.
They may be warriors, politicians, adventurers, etc. Even if they are also wives, mothers, wise women or healers, those archetypes must not be their defining characteristics. Their motivations, their driving force, must be their own. Whatever was in their past, they’re not interested in being in the background now.
We want stories about women breaking free of suppression; we also want stories of women who’ve been empowered all their lives.
- Plus at LEAST two additional titles released in the 2nd half of 2013. We may add 1-2 additional projects depending on how successful the Kickstarter is. These titles haven’t been decided yet – and some of the rewards for pledging give you the chance to influence what we publish!
REWARDS
Some of the rewards for pledging to the Kickstarter include:
- Signed, ARC and limited-print copies of CG titles
- Ebook bundles – every one of our current titles, everything through 2013 – even every title we’ll ever publish.
- 8″ x 10″ photo prints of some of our most popular covers!
- Short story writing critiques from authors Cat Rambo & Jean Johnson, and from the CG editors!
- Help us choose the theme for an upcoming anthology, & get credited when it’s published!
- A custom-designed LEGO set based on the CG Magazine genre of your choice!
- Name & describe a character in NY Times bestselling author Jean Johnson‘s upcoming novel Theirs Not To Reason Why: Damnation!
- An ebook reader loaded with many books, and physically signed by many various authors!
- SOME SURPRISES! Stay tuned, but supporters of the Kickstarter may end up getting more than they pledged for!
We’ve been extraordinarily proud to bring new voices to appreciative readers through CGP. There’s nothing quite like accepting a story and having the author excitedly tell us that it’s their first sale (which has happened to us too many times to count). Over the 3 1/2 years since we founded CGP we’ve produced some excellent and unique reading experiences. But unfortunately, we’re quite serious when we say that’s now at risk. We simply can’t afford to lose money on the small press any longer.
If the fundraising goal isn’t reached, then CGP will stop producing new books. We’ll cancel the submission calls for Menial: Skilled Labor in SF and Winter Well, and after we release Daniel José Older’s Salsa Nocturna in July and Sabrina Vourvoulias’ INK in October, there will be no more new titles.
We don’t want this to happen. And we hope that you don’t either. We love discovering brilliant new stories and authors. Please help us keep doing so, and we’ll continue to share them with you!
Thanks,
Kay & Bart, co-publishers
The Kickstarter runs through June 22: pledge now!
Originally published at Crossed Genres. You can comment here or there. |
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| C-fret |
[May. 21st, 2012|09:34 am] |
So all this year I have been fretting about my lemon tree, because it is only tiny and last year it fruited quite heavily and this year it has done nothing at all: no new growth, no leaves, no blossoms. Many bare and ravaged twiglets. I thought it was curling up its little self and dying on me.
This morning's good news? New leaflets! Yay! Baby steps, but hey. It's only a baby.
It's actually quite remarkable how delighted I am. About the whole garden, actually: I have little tomatolets on my tomato plants, and half the veggies are flowering in a purposeful way, and most of the sugar snap peas and all of the edamame are surviving and putting on growth, and half the boysenberry canes; and the sage and rosemary are conspiring to take over the world, and I have blisteringly hacked back the oregano, and and and. I love my garden.
If all I had to do was grow stuff and cook it, sometimes I think I could be quite happy that way. (Also, I came back from Santa Cruz this weekend with a copy of Silvena Rowe's Purple Citrus & Sweet Perfume. This is just the ultimate in gastroporn, and I want to cook everything.)
Except that then I go and dream a dream about writing a YA fantasy, where my girl protagonist has penguins for her familiars. Penguins. Is there no escape? (In my dream, Karen scorned the notion. In fact, when I told her about it this morning, she was all over the idea.) (No. I am not going to write about penguin familiars. No.) |
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| Big yellow eye is blinking |
[May. 20th, 2012|06:14 pm] |
A dozen years ago, Harry and I drove all the way down to Cornwall from Newcastle, in order not to see the solar eclipse; it was cloud cover all the way, and all we observed was a dimness.
But here I am in California, and I don't even need to leave my garden. There hasn't been a cloud for weeks; the sun is still high enough to make observations easy; I am playing with sheets of paper and pinholes. Something has licked half the sun away already. Anyone seen A'Tuin recently? *glowers suspiciously at turtles*
What the boys will do when their sunshine disappears, I do not know. That also might be fun to observe, but I shall be outside. Am acquiring last-minute tan, just in case it never comes back again. |
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| The American way of food |
[May. 19th, 2012|09:47 am] |
Really I'm only writing this up so that I can do it again on demand, if demanded.
I made blueberry buttermilk scones for breakfast. How American is that?
British people, look away now; I have no equivalents for you. Ceci n'est pas un recipe.
Put two cups of all-purpose flour in a bowl, and add three tablespoons of granulated sugar; also two heaped teaspoonfuls of baking powder. Grate in almost a full stick of salted frozen butter, sparing only that little bit that otherwise you'd grate your fingers. Mix it up. Add a thing of fresh blueberries.
Beat an egg with half a cup of buttermilk and a dash of vanilla extract. Working quickly and casually, mix that into the dry stuff, then tip it all out and knead it briefly into a rough dough. As soon as it holds together, shape it into a round and cut into wedgie scone-shapes.
Lay them on parchment paper or a Silpat silicon sheet on a baking tray, brush with buttermilk and scatter with sugar.
Bake at 375 degrees for twenty-five minutes or so, until golden brown and yummy.
Let cool a little if you can, before eating. |
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| Bullet Points of Interest |
[May. 18th, 2012|07:03 pm] |
I am not playing Diablo III. I don't have much time for a new game at the moment (which is also why I'm not playing The Old Republic), but I'm pretty sure I could have found some intermittent pockets of time... if not for the fact that the game's DRM requires constant online connection, even for solitaire play, making it vulnerable not only to the usual bugs and tribulations of new software but to fluctuations in connectivity at both ends of the line (and indeed, the launch-day strain on Battle.net wasn't pretty). I hear expectedly good things about the gameplay, but I don't have any interest in adding copious amounts of extra teeth-grinding to my entertainment choices when I can help it.
This isn't "a sense of entitlement" issue. When did the notion of not bending over for masochistic random aggravation in the course of our amusements become suspect? My copy of Skyrim doesn't jump out of my XBox 360 every time someone at Bethesda accidentally nudges a server. The Amber novel I was reading last night didn't burst into flames if I ceased to maintain psychic contact with Roger Zelazny's ghost. You say you've got a game that offers all the technological aggravations of an MMO, all the time, even when I'm not receiving any of the benefits? I say that makes my bookshelves look even more attractive than usual. En Taro Adun, Blizzard. For the first time since 1995, I'm watching one of your trains pull out of the station without me on it.
Hey, that girl I like, booksmith extraordinaire Elizabeth Bear, has another delightful thingy freshly available. It, too, will not become unreadable when your internet connection goes down.
Bear and I will be at WisCon 36 next weekend! I am not doing any panels or formal events (save for the mass signing thingy on Monday), but I have volunteered to be a dutiful bar-gnome at the CHICKS DIG COMICS launch party, in room 634 from 9 PM Saturday until Jesus-It's-Late-AM Sunday.
Also: CHICKS DIG COMICS. Buy one. Read it. Use it to swat people who don't fucking get the picture. Just don't aim for their heads; the skulls are usually too thick for physical attacks to have any effect.
At said WisCon, I will be handing over some papers to the awesome Lynne Thomas, and thereby taking my first step into the dark recesses of the SFWA Collection at Northern Illinois State University. It will not be a terribly exciting archive at first, but NIU will be the place to go in the future if you're a scholar wishing to be thoroughly bored by my manuscripts, juvenilia, and detritus.
This is the first year in which I'm going to be attending a Worldcon, and also the first year in which I'm going to be voting on the Hugos. Much of that near-future time I'm not spending swearing at my internet connection will be spent dutifully reading the voters' packet material, which just became available.
I am thoroughly impressed with just how quickly the more egregiously, obviously comprehension-challenged responses to John Scalzi's "Lowest Difficulty Setting" piece began to resemble rants from the motherfucking TIME CUBE guy. YOU ARE EDUCATED STUPID, JOHN SCALZI! Pro Tip: Time Cube Guy is not an emulational model. If you find your arguments resembling his in tone and coherence, back away from your keyboard. Apply vodka liberally to all unsoused brain nodules. When you awaken, open an account at the nearest clue store.
I wish I could tell you a Very Neat Thing. Actually, I have three specific Very Neat Things I am kinda dying to announce. One is good to spill the beans on, one is nearly so, and one is still under publicity embargo. I'd kinda like to be able to spill more than one simultaneously, though, so let's hope I get some directions this coming week.
Hints? You want hints? You have me confused with GRRM.
I wish my bank account had me confused with GRRM. |
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