Mudflats

Okay, okay, I've been living under a rock lately. Cowering, actually. But in the course of my emerging, I have discovered The Mudflats, a political blog by a private citizen in Alaska. The blog came to my attention as I was listening to the CBC (yes, Canadian) news program As It Happens, and heard a story about how this blogger, who wishes to remain anonymous as is her right, was threatened with outing by Alaska State Rep. Mike Doogan, presumably because she wrote some stuff critical of him. (BONUS SHOCK! Doogan is a former journalist, who might possibly have been expected to appreciate and respect freedom-of-expression issues.)

For the anonymous blogger's own take on this, see this post on her blog.

I just absolutely love the Internet. Rail if you will about how it distances people — to be perfectly blunt, what crap. People who want to be distant will find a way, Internet or no Internet. People who want to be close, to engage energetically and compassionately with others and with others' ideas, know that the Internet can be at the very least a useful tool — and potentially a world-changer, even a lifesaver. (I'm looking gratefully at you, all my far-flung friends.)

I'm apprehensive.

March finishes in just a few hours. April is a month of hideous writing deadlines, plus a bunch of non-writing commitments. And I'm not necessarily at my most ebullient and resilient at the moment: stamina is not the best, optimism is at an ebb. It's going to be a month of wandering in the metaphorical desert; in fact, it will be a month of wandering in the desert while trying to grow a lush orchard in the sand, irrigating it with a drinking straw.

All contributions of encouragement gratefully received.

Earth Hour

I'm looking forward to Earth Hour tonight (8:30 to 9:30, no electricity usage). I intend to spend the time writing by candlelight (and no, the carbon emissions from the candle are nowhere near as bad as those from an incandescent bulb, although the new bulbs are a different thing — see this link for the full story). I don't know whether I'll write in my journal, or work on the story I've got a deadline on, or do some preliminary notes for my Script Frenzy opus this year. Probably a mixture of all three. And all on paper, with one of my wonderful fountain pens. (France and Belgium fascinated me — for many reasons, of course, but one of those reasons was the widespread availability and usage of fountain pens. Life is good in a country where they appreciate fountain pens. And waffles.)

If you are reading this once your local time zone's Earth Hour has already passed, I'm sure there would be no karmic problem at all for you to just have your own personal Earth Hour on another night.

Math meets physics meets art meets craft meets gee-whizzery

It's a longish clip (nearly 11 minutes), but it's worth the watching for many reasons: the sculptures are very, very beautiful; the math and physics are enthralling; it's fascinating to watch the build process; and the artist himself is just so enthusiastic about what he's doing that it renews my wonder at the greatness of the human spirit.

Found via boingboing.

Clarion South needs money.

Clarion South is the absolute singularity of speculative-fiction talent in the entire southern hemisphere. If you feel its attraction, it sucks you in and spits you out into another universe, and you are a different — better — writer. Ready to use your powers for good (never for evil).

My Clarion buddy Chris Green says it best:

If you give them money, Clarion South will colonize mars, solve global warming, prevent global cooling, genetically engineer a vast array of wrong things before eradicating them with a singularly designed right thing, invent FTL, save you from the Zombie Horde, etc. And they’ll do it EVERY TWO YEARS, with something in the region of 17 different host bodies.

Go to http://www.clarionsouth.org/donate.htm to donate. They have a $4,000 goal by the end of March, which is any nanosecond now.

Epic sigh of relief!

KQED streaming is back on line. Whew, whew, whew! I can function. I anticipate VHW (very high wordcount) on the current story today.

Writing dreams

The Masques launch marked one writing dream come true. (Clarion South was another, as was my first acceptance, and my first payment, and my first rave review — I have been extremely fortunate in having so many writing dreams come true!)

Here's one that hasn't happened to me yet, but it's definitely on my list of Things I Want to Have Happen.

Stuck for a plot?

One of the very, very best things about the Script Frenzy web site is the Plot Machine. It's in the upper right corner, and when you load the page, or click on the "Go" button on the machine itself, it comes up with a three-clause plot for you. Here are some examples:

• Nervous about vacationing with the in-laws — a duck with a death-wish — is visited by the ghosts of the Wright Brothers


• In a world where no dreams are sweet — a team of animators — skydives without a parachute


• After consuming a powerful laxative — Orville Redenbacher — discovers a shocking use for spray cheese


• In a world where marriage is illegal — a nuclear physicist with a broken heart — must smuggle druids across the border


• On the planet Zorbot — a unicycling banker — plans a campout in a haunted bayou

It's difficult to tear oneself away — all the fun of a slot machine, without risking a nickel, and you might get a suitably bizarre plot idea out of it. Or at least get your own ideas jolted loose so you can pick them up and look at them.

(The scary thing is that I personally know writers who come up with these sorts of plots all on their own. I'm looking at you, Jasoni.)

Yesterday's launch of Masques

Banner day, yesterday! I went to my very first launch of something that had a story of mine in it. And not only a launch! Not only! But a signing. People waited on line to get the signatures of the authors who could make it to the event, and that included me! (Sadly, it did not include my Clarion and TOC buddy Jason Fischer, for whom it would have been an onerous commute. It's okay, mate, I flew the Clarion South 2007 flag well! And the Wollongong flag on behalf of Cat Sparks and Richard Harland.)

I post for you some photos taken by my publicist, Margaret Dunleavy. (The second one in particular conveys the giddy whirl of the event: the eager throngs; the blur of pen on paper as signatures are scrawled, one after the other; the exhilaration of actually seeing one of my writing dreams come indisputably true. Those are my blurry hands on the right side of the photo, passing a signed copy to the author on my left — Nicole — and waiting for one from the author on my right — Phill.)




Many thanks to editors Gillian Polack (spelled it right this time, Gillian!) and Scott Hopkins, and to the Canberra Speculative Fiction Guild, for putting together the anthology, buying my story, putting on a great launch, and being generally terrific. Anytime y'all want another one of my stories, I'm good with that. An-y-time. And thanks to Margaret for being my publicist on the day!

And today there appeared in the Illawarra Mercury a very nicely written piece about Masques, a significant portion of which was taken up by an interview with me! Another writing dream come true! (I clicked on the "Weekender" link on the site, which should have given me access to the story online, but the page was empty. Sigh. Maybe they only post the content after the weekend is over. If it appears, I'll post the link here.)

You can buy Masques directly from the CSFG.

Words to live by

More information here.

It's nearly that time again

Time for Script Frenzy — why not give it a go this year? A hundred pages of script during the month of April is actually quite do-able (far more manageable than, say, 50,000 words of a novel), and the need to convey everything in dialogue sharpens up your story-writing skills no end. Do it as a lark! Do it as a writing exercise! Do it because, like me, you're bloody hopeless without a deadline.

It costs not one red cent. And, strictly speaking, you don't even have to register at the site. I'm registered, though, because more than half the fun is hanging out online with other writers who have a sense of whimsy and adventure. And, just as there are no prizes for winning, there are no penalties for not winning. It's the ultimate in "have a go!"

(Just as an addendum, The Death of Albatross started out as last year's Script Frenzy opus, and look how far that's gone to date!)

Breathing

Walking. Beach, waves, sunshine. Prayer. Breathing.

Helps.

Odin's eye

Today was the second (and final) reading-and-crit session for The Death of Albatross. I suppose it's a reflection of the rather tough times I've been going through recently that it is now a much darker, and much more powerful, piece than it started out to be. The good news is, it's genuinely moving — even the actors were choking up at one point during the reading, and we didn't even have an audience to provide the energy for that. (That scene's going to have them weeping in the aisles if the play ever gets performed.)

The, I guess, bad news is that the process of writing that new material was intensely painful. I've gone to uncomfortable, painful places in my writing before, but this was the furthest I've gone; definitely the most difficult writing journey I've had up to now. The things I had those characters feeling and saying.... Well, you know all those myths and stories about people having to leave bits of themselves behind, like Odin plucking out his own eye, and Frodo losing his finger, and poor Prometheus and his cut-and-come-again liver? You have to do that sometimes, tear something from yourself and leave it there, to make the story be right. Not happy, not all-loose-ends-tied. Right. True.

A book I really enjoyed

I've been meaning to blog about this for a while, but other things kept coming up.

As you have probably gathered, I'm a big, big Shakespeare fan, so imagine my rapture to find a popular history of the Shakespeare personality cult: Becoming Shakespeare, by Jack Lynch.

Yes, I've been told by the occasional conversant in so many words that they "don't see what the big deal is about Shakespeare," and that "Shakespeare is overrated." Heresy! And yet it has done wonders for my own playwriting (and my writing in general) to take a little conscious thought for why Shakespeare has the status he does. Is it the characters? The language? The plots? Or merely the weight of custom and the fear of pointing out the emperor's nakedness? Becoming Shakespeare suggests it's a combination of all these factors, and reading the book is a very bracing confrontation with one's own assumptions.

Truly, if I can't tell you exactly why I enjoy Shakespeare so much, I have no business asserting his greatness. And if I can't even begin to figure out how he does what he does, I haven't learned enough yet about my own writing, or about writing in general.

As an analogy, I enjoy looking at great works of visual art. But I can't tell you how it's done. I can't do it, and I don't know how anyone else does it. However, I don't pretend to be a painter or a sculptor. By contrast, I love going to a good play or reading a good story. The difference is that I call myself a writer, so I'd better be able to take an extra look — not just at the story, but at the technique, and tell you things like: "See how this character becomes increasingly bizarre? See also how the sets become more symbolic in the second act? That shows on several different levels how the character's state of mind is changing and becoming more chaotic and poetic as the pressures on him increase." Or "See how the sentences and paragraphs in this story get shorter and shorter as the character starts to panic?" Or "This sentence has lots of open vowels and liquid consonents and steady rhythms, which is giving a sense of calmness."

Becoming Shakespeare is, first, a great read for anyone interested in how the crowd dresses any emperor, in the evolution of popular taste and critical thought, in the need for heroes, in the development of intellectual elites. But it's also a fascinating challenge for anyone who has ever gushed, "Oh, I love Shakespeare!" Oh, really? Why?

The mere fatuous enthusiast sees no need to answer; the writer must.

You can order Masques online!

The page from which you can order the Masques anthology (in which appears my story "The Dancing Mice and the Giants of Flanders") is now up on the Canberra Speculative Fiction Guild website. (For the non-Aussies, alas, it must be purchased from Australia and shipping must be paid — but the Aussie dollar is relatively weak right now, so jump, jump!)

For more on the giants, see this article and (although it's in French) this Wikipedia entry.

Well, good thing that's sorted out now.

Your Personality at 35,000 Feet Is Thoughtful and Contemplative

Deep down, you prefer spending time alone to spending time with others. You enjoy thinking more than talking. You are good with your place in the world. You are confident and comfortable with who you are. Your gift is having a way with words. You know how to express yourself well. You are inspired by challenges. If something is hard to accomplish, you want to do it. You are happy as long as you are given some personal space. It's important for you to have your own private life.

The Personality Test at 35,000 Feet

You Are a Centaur

In general, you are a very cautious and reserved person. However, you are also warm hearted, and you enjoy helping others in practical ways. You are a great teacher, and you are really good at helping people get their lives in order. You are very intuitive, and you go with your gut. You make good decisions easily.

What Mythological Creature Are You?

And, last —

You Should Be a Science Fiction Writer

Your ideas are very strange, and people often wonder what planet you're from. And while you may have some problems being "normal," you'll have no problems writing sci-fi. Whether it's epic films, important novels, or vivid comics... Your own little universe could leave an important mark on the world!

What Type of Writer Should You Be?

And, speaking of science fiction, my Clarion buddy Ben Francisco has stumbled upon a jaw-droppingly clear explanation of the difference between science fiction and fantasy.

Sadness.

Today I went to the funeral of my friend Elizabeth (whom I mentioned in an earlier post). The room was packed, even though she was never one to draw attention to herself. There were people speaking English, Italian, Maori, you name it. Family (of course), friends of family, family of friends, people from the karate school — all drawn to that one place to cry and remember and feel everything you feel when someone you love dies suddenly and unjustly.

Like I said before, she is my role model, everything I aspire to be and have not achieved. If I work hard, with a wide-open heart and generous spirit, maybe I'll be able to be a little more like Elizabeth by the time my own life ends.

More fame.

Got my picture taken today to appear in the Illawarra Mercury on March 21 (there will be a piece on the Masques anthology). Ee hee hee!

STFU, Strindberg, and Heeeeeeeelium

Okay, first link is a blog post by my new favorite superhero, Beth Wodzinski, wherein she urges everyone to STFU (an abbreviation with which I had somehow never become familiar before; I don't get out much) and do it. (Warning: contains swears.) (Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention: I found this via Angela Slatter's blog.)


Next is the link I found on my friend Jason's blog, which has had Margaret and me cackling and squealing like mad things for days: Strindberg and Helium.

Finally, a message sent out there to Elizabeth, wherever you are: seeing you at karate was always one of the highlights of my week, and your joy, generosity of spirit, and eagerness to love and be loved made you my role model. I will always remember you and always try to be true to what you taught me, and to live up to your amazing example. I'm glad I had you in my life, however briefly. And I'm glad I never made a secret of how much I admired you.

Okay, okay, I know you've probably already seen it.

This clip is everywhere, but when I saw it on my friend Michelle's blog, I knew I had to snurch it for my very own. So: what if real life were like Facebook?



PS I happen to think the acting in this is entirely fabulous.

Ah, fame is good.

Today I went into the lovably rustic studios of VOX-FM, the community radio station here in Wollongong. I was joined by the impressively well-published author and all-around nice guy Richard Harland (who, incidentally, has made it public knowledge that he has a new book, World-Shaker, coming out in May — I'm told it's a YA fantasy novel full of cool). We were there to be interviewed by arts impresario and station manager Steen regarding the launch later this month of the Masques anthology by the Canberra Science Fiction Guild.

We chatted amiably about speculative fiction as a genre, about the specifics of the anthology and our stories, and about the fact that while Wollongong only has about one percent of the population of Australia, the anthology's table of contents boasts a whopping 10 percent Wollongong content (between Richard, Cat Sparks, and me, Wollongong fully rocks this antho).

My, how I love radio, and being interviewed! I can't wait to get way famous and do interviews all day! (For those of you who are actually wondering, no, I'm not being sarcastic. I'm told there's a stereotype out there somewhere that writers are monastic and reclusive and shy. I do happen to be somewhat reclusive, but when that microphone is on, man, don't get in between.)

Me, I wouldn't be so hasty to recover something like this.

On the Doctor Who News Page, there's a rather alarming story* about finding a Dalek in a scum-surfaced pond. Photo and everything. One of the guys who found it is quoted as saying:

"We've dredged up everything from shopping trolleys, toys, and bicycles.

"But this is the first time a Dalek's appeared. We have no idea how it ended up in there, or how long ago.

"We discovered the BBC often took the Daleks out on location for filming, and they travelled to Hampshire on at least one occasion in the 1980s, when Colin Baker played the Timelord.

"Who knows, this might be the remains of one of the originals from the old TV series. I'm told they they were built to last."

Really, aren't you just the teensiest bit nervous? I know I am.

*I can't permalink to the actual item itself, so if they've posted a lot of stuff since I saw it, just keep scrolling down.

Frugality note

The microwave is not your friend. Do not forsake your oven. Even reheated nachos are quite tolerable if they have never felt the bite of a microwave. Oh, and if you put lots of extra cheese on top when reheating them.

Oh, man, these photos are SO COOL!

I don't want to reproduce any of the photographs here, because I'm not sure if they're snurchable (i.e. not copyright), but you should go look at them. They're tiny little planets created by photographer Alexandre Duret-Lutz, who stitches together up to 100 images to create 360-degree by 180-degree panoramas. Go look, go look! (Found via the ABC's arts blog.)

UPDATE: On the photographer's flickr page, he gives permission to use the photos with attribution. (All the "Wee Planet" ones are gathered in this set.) So, here:

Some (well, one, soon to be more) of my stories available in a new blog

I'll be posting pieces of flash fiction at irregular intervals on a new blog, dryastheremainderbiscuit.blogspot.com. There's a story up now, in fact! (Comments are disabled for now, but I'd be happy to hear from you in an email what you like or what could be improved. It's not a crit site, it's a sharing site, but I'm happy for any feedback that helps me improve — or lets me feel good about my writing!)

More radio fame (at least in Wollongong)

At noon on Thursday, March 5, those of you close enough to Wollongong to pick up VOX-FM (106.9 — sorry, no streaming; this is community radio) will be able to listen to heavily awarded fantasy and horror author Richard Harland and (not so heavily awarded) me talking about the impending launch of the anthology Masques. (We both have stories in it, is why.) We'll be talking with professional local personality Steen, who has his finger on the pulse of the arts in the Illawarra.

I love radio.

Sorry, everyone.

I'm having to turn comments-moderation on.

To the poster who is the reason (and you know who you are): cruelty is not funny. Grow up.