Happy Holiday

Xmas was good. Woke up early to get to the family house and catch the nieces and nephews in gift-receiving frenzy. Brekkies w/Mum, sister, and family. Then went home to make pies and desserts for dinner while nipping on red wine. Cold, drizzly weather makes being domestic particularly satisfying. Went back up to the house for dinner with the whole fam-damily, including Dad and Grandpa and the extended in-law set. I made a disk of old family photos of Mum's that I scanned for my sibs, and will post a few golden oldies. Hope everyone is having a good holiday.

Reading: SANDMAN: FABLES & REFLECTIONS by Neil Gaiman


'70s
Is it any wonder I am who I am growing up with those curtains?

A bit nippy

The weather has really turned here. It's gray, cold, and windy. Good Christmas weather. We got the January issue in with the Canadian stuff, the WFC reports and photos, and a long obit for Bob Sheckley, who never recovered from his last surgery. Sad stuff, that, but we did our best to give him a good send off.

Went out to the Borderlands Books holiday potluck on Friday. Had a great time. A fantastic, commiserating conversation with Jeremy Lassen about night terrors, which he has, too. I've actually never met anyone with such a similar version of them.

Now that it is raining steadily, we discovered that our enthusiastic landscaping disturbed an underground network of gopher tunnels. All the water that is running downhill underground toward our house is now bubbling up to the surface in our backyard. There was a small waterfall tumbling gently into our mudbox this morning. Joy.

So these guys stole a two-ton, $5.2 million bronze statue with a crane and a flat-bed truck in London. "Three men are being sought, having been captured on security cameras." That's ambitious.

Things I miss

There are things that, as an American, I miss. As a first-generation American, I might miss them a little bit more, because I almost had them. Singing in pubs. God, that's cool. I want to sing in a pub. With a bunch of drunk locals. We just don't do that. It would be really good for us as a nation if we got drunk and sang together more. We're just too big. There's no getting around it. Too many people, too much space.

 Blogger is apparently determined to prevent me from posting this photo. You can't stop a girl when she's determined. Ballet at age 11.
 

Take a stand, man, it's good for the soul

After a long day of dealing with digital images, looking for news, dealing with the financials of the magazine, and almost doing ballet (see previous post), I stumbled onto Ted Chiang's statement on SF v. F in terms of science and magic on WithBoots and Hal Duncan's considered response. Plus debate with Cheryl at Emcit. Thank the gods for JV and his evil monkey.

In the end, I think Hal sums it up best.

Doesn't look like the sugar-plum fairy to me

Tonight I got as close as I've been in eight years to going to a ballet class. Wacky.

Too much information: I danced pretty much as soon as I could walk. At the age of two or three I informed my family that my signal of waving my index finger in front of my face while blinking rapidly meant, "Be quiet and sit down. I'm going to dance now." (That's a family favorite to tell when company's over.) I studied ballet from the age of six, danced with the San Francisco Ballet School till the age of sixteen when I ripped the cartilage in the metatarsal joint of my right big toe, effectively ended my career. I could pretty much do anything except for ballet, the one thing I really felt called to. A three-or-so year depression followed, the launching of my goth persona, and the beginnings of a budding vocalist career. Follow restaurant jobs, some stucco work, university, bands, motorcycles, Mexico, adventure...

Despite misgivings, I started doing modern dance in my twenties. I spent several years in Santa Cruz dancing sometimes twice daily and was the principal dancer in a small modern company, while completing my degree in Lit and playing in an alt-rock band in San Francisco. Recognizing the pending vulnerability of doing dance again seriously, (for better or worse) I decided to concentrate on my music, moved back to the Bay Area where my band was based, and gave up on dance entirely. It's very hard to do something you've dedicated your life to previously as a hobby or sport.

The band imploded after six years, despite moderate fame, a CD, some touring, etc. Two years of just and only work (bartending, managing restaurant) and pondering grad school. Despondent feelings of dumbing down. Cue job opening at Locus.

So here I am, thirty-five, magazine editor, completely out of shape and considering going to a beginning adult ballet class at Berkeley Ballet Theater. Could only find one ballet shoe. Stymied. Fah. So I'm having another tequila, and figuring out where to buy new ballet shoes. Try and stop me.

Will post ridiculous photo of self doing ballet at awkward age of eleven.

O Christmas Tree

Went out and got me a Christmas tree today. It's cool. I can't remember the last time I had one. Alan Beatts and I were talking on the phone the other day and he confessed his fondness for Christmas. Have to say, I suffer from the same. The smell of the tree in the living room, the lights, the fire in the fireplace on chilly nights -- it's all really lovely.

Even better, today is the first day in two weeks that I haven't been sick. For Pete's sake, that's just not fair. But it's over and I'm ready to go back to having a life past work and sleep. Most of my day has been spent color balancing digital photos for the World Fantasy spread. I have about 35 to go, it takes about 10-15 minutes each. Hooboy. I'll confess the tequila makes the work a little less painful -- my apologies in advance to anyone who turns out more chartreuse than intended, but it's Sunday, I'm finally not sniffling anymore and celebration was in order. It's not all bad -- going through photos of what was a really enjoyable weekend. I don't usually get to hang out and meet people at cons. Too much work to do. But Madison was different.

Mum is home from visiting the family in Australia. My sister and I talk on the phone once or twice a day when she's not around. She's really the anchor of our family. Even at 35 (:0) I feel a bit adrift when she's out of reach like that.

Still reeling about the Sci Fiction news. It's such a knock to short fiction to have that visible and well paying a venue taken away from the field.

It's not all that bad, really

Ok, so I had a great day on Friday.

The effervescent Laurel Winter is in town. I took her to Muir Woods and Stinson Beach, which were wonderful for a variety of reasons, not the least of which being the weather turned and it was beautiful. A much-needed distraction from my workload.

My feline scientist continues his series of experiments, the most recent of which involves lugging around an antique glass doorknob. I haven't quite derived the process he is using or his desired results, but expect enlightenment soon.

Totally engrossed in THE ATROCITY ARCHIVES.

NEARLY PEOPLE's ending knocked me for a loop so I plan on reading the last 30 pages again.

Started RIVER OF GODS by Ian McDonald. I've enjoyed his previous works and am looking forward to this one, so well recommended.

And the liquid amber trees are running red now -- fanfuckingtastic. Will post photo, though effect does not translate.

Oh Joy, A Day Off

Being the (mostly) dutiful wiff I am, I climbed out of bed at 6:45am to make coffee and join the hub in the shower. Usually I make breakfast, too, but beg off that duty when I don't have to go to work. So I climbed back into bed to have a wee sleep-in, only to be roused by hub's hubbub in the kitchen. In my bleary half-awake state I had neglected to put the pot in position in the coffee machine -- very bad idea. Fortunately for me, the machine is at least one tick brighter than I am, and turned itself off. So I amended the sitch, decided I really needed to go back to bed and start the day over in a half hour or so.

The cats, lovely though they are, are engaged in some kind of ongoing sport tourney which sounds like a rugby match as they fly through the rooms, and one of the goals (which have varying locations throughout the house) was apparently next to my head on the pillow this morning. So I gave up and got dressed. The rest of my morning, and probably some of the afternoon, will be spent in my old music studio at the Vulcan warehouse helping my ex-bandmate, who now lives in France, sort through the belongings she has in storage there, connected to her on Skype (she's in Toulouse). We'll have to see if it works or not, but I'm hopeful. Then on to editing the WFC report, and choosing photos for the spread.

It's pouring down rain. Depressing. I haven't blogged about our epic landscaping project in the backyard, but will when it's closer to done. Suffice to say, we dug a big square hole about 15 x 20 feet (and 2 ft. deep), which is now filling with rainwater and making a large mudbox right outside our kitchen door. And we have two 50-some pound dogs that are left out when no one is home (or else Sasha, the catahoula, gets in to trouble - books are a favorite chewtoy, among other things). DIY is slow and cumbersome sometimes, so despite our best efforts, we did not beat the rainy season.

Trombis

Reading: THE ATROCITY ARCHIVES, by Charlie Stross
NEARLY PEOPLE, by Conrad Williams

Ole

Ole's experiments in the dogs' water dish continue. Various cat toys, a dollar bill, receipts, plant cuttings -- apparently anything smaller than a tennis ball is fair game. These are in queue: the toy mouse has already been in and out, and the plant is waiting.

Turkey and sniffles

Had an early Thanksgiving the Saturday before the real thing, at Z'boss's house with Michael & Linda Moorcock. They're a hoot. Good fun was had by all.
Then spent a leisurely Sunday escorting Deb Biancotti and Trevor Stafford with Mz'melia around San Francisco's Mission District. Did a wee bookstore jaunt, visited Alan and Jeremy at Borderlands, caught a reading, hung out drinking beer with Cheryl Morgan, and then had a fantabulous Mexican dinner replete with margaritas. Finished up at Zeitgeist for a last drink and then made our way back to the East Bay. Thankful they didn't want to see all the typical tourist stuff; we had a great time, and I've probably done the Alcatraz tour a dozen times in my life with visiting relatives.
Ended up catching the bug that Trevor had. Damn. Spent the whole weekend alternating between Theraflu (yetch) and tea, wrapped up in a blanket on the couch, in a sea of crumpled tissues. Still feeling murky, heavily dosed up with Day- or Nyquil, depending on the time of day.

World Fantasy

It's taken me forever to get back to this blog on World Fantasy.
I had a fabulous time.

Z'boss, Jonathan, and I flew into Chicago on Wednesday, rented a van, and drove to Madison. It was just a long slow sunset most of the drive, and gorgeous countryside. The first night we met up with Garth Nix and a few of the Aussie contingent for dinner. Garth is an endlessly nice guy. He hosted many late nights in his suite with the Locus crowd and others, and always had good wine and Armagnac at the ready. Thursday, my birthday, started our heavy schedule of interviews and meetings, but we got away for an Thai lunch with Graham Joyce, whose accent the waitress couldn't understand, which led to me having giggle fits as he tried over and over to get her to understand him. That night the Aussies threw their party in one of the con suites. Jonathan, Mz'melia, and Gary got a cake for me for my 35th, and the whole room sang "Happy Birthday". It took a large glass of wine to get past the keen desire to disappear into the wallpaper, but I was happy that my birthday hadn't come and gone unnoticed. Bonus birthday card sporting naked rollerskaters and signed by many friends.

Got to see a bit of Gary Wolfe interviewing Peter Straub. Other than that, no programming for me, too many meetings/interviews. Would have like to have seen some readings. The Locus Foundation had its board meeting, which I attended to take the minutes as I had last year, but then was voted onto the board -- that was a shocker. It makes sense, and I feel honored, but it wasn't something I expected.

The weekend flew by. The dealers' room was small, but packed. Meetings were successful; as always, there is so much information to take in. Everyone has different priorities and goals, and while we all want the field to expand and shine, there are so many different theories on how to achieve that. The parties felt more social than last year; having one party floor makes the whole thing one big shindig. Got to hang out with Jay Lake; the Night Shade boys -- Jason and Jeremy (love my Night Shade posse shirt!); John, Lou, Chris & Allison; Kelly & Gavin. Met the talented Conrad Williams, Paolo Bacigalupi, Ebear, some new authors (one of whom is practically my neighbor); the list goes on.

I really didn't have any idea what Madison would be like. It's a funny mix of college town and capitol, suits in the day and tipsy students at night. The capitol building is full of gilded carved balustrades, painted ceilings, and marble columns; I stole away for a half hour with a con buddy to climb up into the rotunda and out onto its balcony. From there you can see the whole city and the two lakes on either side of it. Friday night late ended in one of those memorable late-night conversations, watching the water hyacinth float on Lake Mendota, till the cold sunk in deep and we had to bolt shivering back to the hotel.

One of the highlights of the weekend was friend John Picacio winning the award for Best Artist at the banquet on Sunday. Truly proud of him and pleased that he is being recognized for the talent that he is. Needless to say, there was much whooping and hollering when his name was announced as the winner.

And then the con was over. The last day was spent, as Mz'melia put it so memorably, "somewhere between dumb and falling down," due to exhaustion. Driving back to Chicago, we saw a "Cheese gifts * Fireworks * Gas" sign, and had to stop. Picked up some cheese curds for the hub (who hails from a teeny town outside of Green Bay). Happy to be home, but looking forward to next year already.

35, already?

Reading: PRETTIES, by Scott Westerfeld
THE HIDDEN FAMILY, by Charles Stross

My 35th birthday will be during World Fantasy. It could be really fun, or a total non-event, we'll have to see. The hub is a wee bit bent that I won't be around, but he's learning that these things are important to me. Very excited that John Picacio is up for the award -- keeping fingers crossed. Wish I could make the IHG, but too many plans already.
My cat Ole has taken up experimenting with the water dish -- so far he has put an empty TP roll, his collar, and a cork in, just to see what happens. Wacky.

Scott's YAs are entertaining-- it's refreshing to see some YA SF instead of just fantasy. The market is SO saturated with magic and fluff, we really needed some SF. And they are a zippy read that can be done in one session, which I really appreciate with all the stuff I have been trying to get to.
Finally got to start THE HIDDEN FAMILY. I really enjoy Charlie's writing style, but dread cliff hangers on principle. Addendum: Just finished it and was happy that it resolved several of the plot points, even though there is a third following.

Reading: LIGHT, by M. John Harrison
UGLIES, by Scott Westerfeld

Heading toward a crazy weekend. Building up to WFC. So many meetings, and so many people I want to see.
Why haven't I read Mike Harrison before? He's got a whipchain sort of style that works for me; flung me into the plot at full speed.

Pratfall?

Reading: Adventure: Vol. 1, Chris Roberson, ed.
Glass Soup, by Jonathan Carroll

Well, it's been an interesting few weeks. Z'boss took a spill picking up Terry Pratchett at his hotel, and though we had a good visit, he was out of commission for two weeks in a wheelchair -- not an easy time for anyone. But he's back in action now.
Neil Gaiman came by, the day he hit the NY Times & PW lists at number one. He's pretty smooth, that one, especially in the spotlight. He read his book THE DAY I SWAPPED MY DAD FOR TWO GOLDFISH to our youngest minion, age five, and ended up with the whole staff gathered around listening.

Enjoying ADVENTURE. Some of the stories have a familiar feel, like a lost, favorite hat put on again. It's an interesting mix.
GLASS SOUP is like revisiting my early twenties when I read everything I could find by Milan Kundera -- loss in some shade runs through every bit of the story, even with the sort of wry humor he uses. And it's slightly cold, a little analytical, but I care what happens to the characters. Read OUTSIDE THE DOG MUSEUM recently as well, but must get to WHITE APPLES, even if it's the wrong order.

Oh, the pain...

One more thing...
Z'boss has taken a spill and sprained his knee. Sympathy welcome.

Mmmm, more photos from Glasgow

Worldcon 2005, Glasgow

Just got back from the Worldcon in Glasgow, Scotland. Still reeling from jetlag.
Things I learned:
1. Scottish food is different. That's me being diplomatic, if you didn't catch the tone. Haggis tastes like sausage, but looks like hamster droppings. And customer service is a creature they haven't heard of.
2. Whiskey can be drunk at all times of day there. I approve.
3. Edinburgh is a beautiful city and the Scottish are a friendly people by nature, though sometimes impossible to understand, common language or no.
4. Glasgow feels a bit like LA -- the saying being, "There is no there, there."
5. Folks in the UK take programming more seriously than I have experienced in the States. Every panel I attended was packed, and attendees were attentive and engaged.

I had a great time. Met some UK editors, publishers, and agents. Had great discussions about the state of SF and where it may be headed. Saw Lou, Chris, and John, three of my favorite con cohorts, but did not get to spend enough time with Alan, Jude, or Graham. Same to be said for Justine & Scott, also con buddies. Met China and his sidekick Jesse, and was pleasantly surprised to find out he's exquisitely friendly. Went to a few serious panels analyzing SF; John Clute and Gary Wolfe in turn agreed and disagreed in an entertaining conversation which held over an extra half hour.

Best of all, I got to meet up with someone I had not seen for 15 years. My friend Abi and I together had written the first chapters to what was going to be our epic fantasy novel in ninth grade. We were good friends, and close, but it wasn't so apparent till I came to stay at her house in Edinburgh, the weekend before the Con. We practically still finish each other's sentences. We thoroughly creeped out her hub who at one point said, "Stop it, you're freaking me out." Both of us, however, fled, more than moved, past high school, and in the process abandoned all previous friendships. I didn't actually realize how nice it is to have someone who went through those sort of formative times with you. Who understands something more integral than just what you do for a living and what you got your degree in. I couldn't have asked for a better time with her and her family, and was thoroughly impressed by where she has taken herself in life.

people I google:

I wonder what they are up to, where they have ended up...

daria cuthbertson, congrats?
lydia bednerik
price bennett
dean arima
josh kirshenbaum
doug mcdonald
alexandre french quinville
michelle bonds
among others...