I’m headed into the city this evening to hear John Scalzi read from Fuzzy Nation. I’ve loved the Little Fuzzy books (and I’ll note that there’s a bunch of his stuff free for e-readers) since discovering them as a teenager and found a book club edition of the first two this weekend at the thrift store. I’d forgotten what a tear jerker the first one is, and the anti-corporate message seems even more timely than usual. I haven’t read Fuzzy Nation yet, but I’m picking it up today and looking forward to it. I’m also fascinated by the idea that Scalzi’s written fan fiction – it opens up some interesting questions about that debate.
I recommend the first book for people working on learning how to create emotional depth, which a couple of writers have mentioned to me lately. Any book that has me welling up with tears is doing its job right in that regard. I’m taking my Writing F&SF class to this reading so they can be inspired by seeing a writer in action – maybe Scalzi will get them to cry (in a good way).
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"(On the writing F&SF workshop) Wanted to crow and say thanks: the first story I wrote after taking your class was my very first sale. Coincidence? nah….thanks so much."
~K. Richardson
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You Should Read This: An Appreciation of Maya Angelou
This picture makes me happy. What a well-deserved honor. I first read Maya Angelou at twelve or thirteen, with I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. I was a white Midwestern girl with an academic and a journalist as parents and the world Angelou described was so different from my own experience that it helped me learn early that there were outlooks beyond my own.
Later I’d come to her poetry at a time when my ears were ready to drink it in. Her voice was sharp and observant, outspoken and nuanced all at once. Here’s one of my favorites among her poems, “I Rise.”
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own back yard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
Learning of her death this morning was a blow. She was bold and wonderful and eloquent, all that a poet should be. She spoke about our times and testified to her experience so others could learn from it. I have a special family in her heart, made up of the writers that have shaped me. Chaucer’s there, and Joanna Russ, and so many others. I wish I’d had the chance to meet her in person.
Here’s a recent quote from her I came across this morning and love: The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.
I’m glad you’re home, Maya. But oh, those of us still aching for it will miss you.
You Should Read This: Ancillary Justice by Ann Leckie
The cover is gorgeous, and conveys a sense of the complicated world of Ancillary Justice.I must admit to an extra hint of pride in this book’s appearance here, because Ann was a member of my Clarion West class back in 2005, when she was first wowing all of us with her Radchi universe. Ann and I also know each other through SFWA and our shared agent, Seth Fishman.
What:Ancillary Justice by Ann Leckie is a fabulous space opera with an unusual protagonist whose struggle will pull the reader in. It is, alas, not a particularly long book, and I could have read at least twice more the length happily.
Who: read this if you like space opera or action-filled but character driven SF. Read it if you want to hear the latest in the ongoing conversation about gendered pronouns held between SF writers for decades now. Read it for the sake of enjoyment and rejoice to know it’s the first of three.
Many writers have an artistic side, and Ann Leckie is no exception. Here's a lovely pink pin she made for me and which is among my treasures.When: read this when you have time to devour great chunks in one sitting, because otherwise the story will haunt you, will keep calling you back while you are spending time at other tasks, making you remember exactly where you laid the book down, calculating when you can return to it.
Why: Read this because it will be appearing on many of the awards ballots this year and rightly so. Read it so you know why you’re voting for it. Read it because it does new and interesting things. Read it because it’s good.
Where/how: This is ideal for a while-away-some-hours situation, depending on your reading speed. Leckie’s world is immersive, intelligent, and interesting.
