Australia Day 2010

Margaret and I, neither of us being Australian, decided that the best way to celebrate Australia Day would be to get out and enjoy a piece of Australia. So we went hiking and camping in Morton National Park. When we celebrate our own national day, it's always in the middle of winter here, so camping has an added literal and figurative frisson. But, conveniently for its own people, Australia puts its national day in the middle of summer. (Note to self: do not suggest to Margaret, next time we're in the States in January, that we go camping for Australia Day.)

Anyway, here are some pics of a few of the things we saw: waterfalls, gorges, etc. I think I took most of them, but Margaret may have taken a few (I'm thinking in particular of the picture in which I appear, not holding a camera). I recommend the Fitzroy Falls area of Morton National Park, and the campground at Bundanoon is quiet enough to suit me, but it has flush toilets, which would suit the more delicate members of your camping party.






On our way back this afternoon, we stopped at the charming hamlet of Robertson, famous for being the place where they filmed Babe, but even more famous for being the home of the Big Potato, otherwise known as the Big Poo. My friend Tim, upon seeing it for the first time, returned to the car, stared at nothing for a while, and finally murmured, "That was a hell of a thing."


Yes. Yes, this is it. And it is, indeed, a hell of a thing.




A giant potato is a cheerful and reliable companion in all life's adventures.




Is this its front end, its back end, or something else altogether?

Yay!!

Congratulations to Peter M. Ball and Christoper Green, who have picked up an Aurealis Award each on the weekend. Peter's is for the fabulous science-fiction short story "Clockwork, Patchwork and Ravens," and Chris's for the entirely-too-menacing fantasy short story "Father's Kill."

I am highly fortunate to count these two writers as not just Clarion buddies, but actual, non-Clarion buddies as well. I wish that just being in the same Clarion as these guys meant that I was somehow automatically of their calibre. Instead, I need to turn the incredible luck of being able to learn from them into the determination to keep making my own writing ever more worthy of the time and attention they (and others) have already lavished on it.

Sidebar: Peter's winning story started out as a Clarion draft; I was blown away just by the first, hurried, sleep-deprived draft Peter gave us all to read. That's one of the really cool things about Clarion, those of you who are thinking of applying (go here to find out more about Clarion South): over the next few months and years as stories start rising like rockets, you get to say "I read that in first draft — it was awesome!"

EDIT: I've just been informed that Chris's story was presented to us in Week 1 in Clarion! I must have been too shell-shocked to remember the details. Sorry, Chris! EDIT EDIT: No, I was right the first time — "Father's Kill" was not a Clarion story. Whew!

Chris and Peter, you are two of my writing heroes.

Addendum: Congratulations also to my non-Clarion buddy Cat Sparks, who won best YA story for "Seventeen" (which, incidentally, appeared in an anthology that also contained a story of mine — I am at the very heels of greatness!).

Cool!

This video was taken from a flipbook printed in France in the 1880s, according to the documentation on the Youtube page whence I snurched it. It's sabre, of course, as you can tell by the fact that they're cutting with the edge and by the other fact that the blades have those piratey-looking D-shaped hilts.

These moves don't look very efficient, but they do look way swashbuckling and way cool! And it's all about the look, dahling.

Yes. These would work.

Go here to find out some sure-fire tips for preventing sexual assault. They are genuinely brilliant. This is not a joke — at least, not as far as I'm concerned. If everyone followed these rules, the world would be a better place.

Thanks to my friend Heather, who posted the link on Facebook.

My new weapon!

I have a new weapon — a foil, which is (and cover your ears, fencers) a light training sword. (Thanks, Mom — it's not every mom who would get their daughter fencing gear for Christmas!)

The reason I say "cover your ears" is that the word "sword" is very sternly frowned upon in the community of fencers. I refused to be shamed. Part of the fun is that it's a sword, okay, fencing snobs?

One of the reasons I have longed for years to fence, and why I jumped so eagerly into it when the chance finally came, was the connection with the history of my forebears. Okay, truth to tell, it's unlikely any of my actual forebears — solidly middle-class for generations upon generations — did much fencing (although I did have a great-great-great who served in the Prussian Army; I'll have to double-check the old documents to see whether he was an officer or not). But it's still part of the milieu in which my forebears lived and dreamed and worked. I love my — YES! — sword partly because it means I don't have to wait around until a club foil comes free before I can bout, and partly because I'm highly melodramatic by nature and think swords are way romantic and cool, but also because it's a fairly direct link to the past. My past.


These are Prussian soldiers of the Napoleonic era, about 30 years before my great-great-great got his honorable discharge. Army fashion changes slowly, so perhaps his uniform looked like these.

Oh, how I love getting a good review....

From SF Crows Nest comes this review of my story "The Name Thieves," which appeared in Issue 42 of Andromeda Spaceways Inflight Magazine:

My favourite story of the dozen was 'The Name Thieves' by Laura Goodin. Ever wonder what happens after a zombie apocalypse when the zombies have eaten everything and only zombies remain? What goes on in their heads? An interesting idea which is explored in this story suggests that they evolve a religion. It's all got to do with personal identity and the possession of a name. This story also reflects on human behaviour as well as the living dead because sometimes the distinction between the two isn't all that obvious.

Ee hee hee!

Reminders to myself for the start of 2010

My beloved karate school asked me to write a short piece for their newsletter. I reproduce it in part below because I gave myself a lot of good advice in there, and the more I confront myself with it, the more likely I'll be to actually take it.

I've lived overseas for fourteen years now, and not one single day goes by that I don't wish with all my heart I could still train at DCSDKA. Sadly, I have searched for years for a school to match what we have at DCSDKA. For one reason or another, each of them turned out to be not quite right for me. Instead, I have had to learn to carry DCSDKA with me wherever I go.

You, too, may find that you have to move too far from DC, or that your family or work life change so that you can no longer train regularly at DCSDKA. Over the years, I've discovered a number of ways to keep hold of the things I most value from DCSDKA, even when I'm far away.

Discipline
This means physical, mental, and emotional discipline. The physical is possibly the easiest: while I've had my ebbs and flows, I've done my best over the years to stay in shape.

Mental discipline means (for me at least) resisting the urge to see myself as someone who used to do martial arts. I must have the discipline to see myself as someone who STILL IS and ALWAYS WILL BE a martial artist. This one decision gives me the drive and mental strength to keep making those smaller daily choices about staying fit, staying determined, staying courteous. [Addendum for this blog post: substitute "writer" for "martial artist" if that works better for you. The point about the strength to make the daily choices remains.]

Which leads me to emotional discipline, the hardest of all. My emotions are constantly telling me, "You've slipped so far, you're nowhere near as strong and fit and skilled as you used to be. What's the use?" Emotional discipline means rejecting this despair and guiding my emotions instead toward a cheerful acceptance of where I am right now and an eager anticipation of what I can become — regardless of where I was yesterday or last year or a decade (or more) ago.

Respect
You know what I'm going to say here: respect for self, for family and friends, for teachers and bosses, for people in service jobs, for children, for strangers. That is one habit and ideal of DCSDKA that I can — that I must — take with me wherever I go. Respect means not taking my loneliness and frustration out on others, but speaking to them gently, with genuine regard and appreciation. It means valuing other people's success as much as my own. And it means valuing my goals and needs as much as other people's.

Positive Expectancy
Positive expectancy is not wishing — wishing means you think that something is very unlikely to actually happen. It's not even hoping — hoping implies that you're powerless to affect what's going on. For me, positive expectancy is the fundamental belief that life can continue to improve and that I can take an active role in making that happen. That is something that I can believe and live no matter how far I am from DCSDKA.

"Discipline, Respect, and Positive Expectancy" is the motto of my karate school, in case you were wondering. So, with that motto in mind, onward into 2010!