Life in the new place continues pleasant; this morning it is raining, but the construction workers across the way are slicker-clad and working away doggedly. I’ve been listening to Vienna Teng’s album, Aims. Here’s one of my favorites from it:
As I listen and witness the cars passing by on California Avenue – black egieb blue yarg etihw – I’ve been working on a bespoke near future SF piece where I get to play around a bit with ideas of body augmentation, virtual life, and the access to either of them afforded by economic class. Here’s some of this morning’s writing:
Malady could understand the concept of the artificial hand and how useful it could be in this life, but she didn’t understand why they put so much emphasis on it at first.
After two weeks at University, though, she did, because here they spent most of their time in meat life and very little in mind life, even in classes. And when they went into mind life, the things they got there were like the meat hand to Malanie ““ fripperies, seldom used.
Still, even here, plenty of other ways to do things presented themselves: rather than reach your hand for food, have it come to you in a floating dish or handed to you by a helper, probably mechanical but here they even had human helpers, which was truly deeply madly odd to her way of thinking.
She said as much to her roommate Michelle. Michelle was short and peppy and purple-haired today, with turquoise stars over her cat-pupiled eyes. While her appearance changed from time to time ““ she had full mods, the best old money could buy ““ she was invariably a combination of irritated and amused at her scholarship roommate’s oddities. She said, “For gosh sakes, Mal, surely you want to do things for yourself? That’s what humans do.”
“That’s what humans do,” was one of her more frequent expressions, along with “That’s just how it is” and “That’s how they always do it.” The latter two had figured plentifully in her orientation conversations with Malady, who’d spent her flight and taxi ride in her Memory Palace and had only fully come into meat when Melanie demanded it.
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From Today's Writing
Working on a dieselpunkish piece, tentatively entitled “The Blue Train.” People may notice I tend to skip around a bit on project. By my guess, I think I’ve got about a dozen pots boiling at any given time, and at least two of those, right now at least, are longer works. I think this one will end up a reasonable length of around 5k, though.
By six PM, his lordship was up and ready to be shaved and dressed. I had sandwiches sent up, something to tide him over till he went out. His haggard eyes were pouched and heavy as though he hadn’t slept.
“Where to tonight?” I asked as I stirred the lather, smelling of bay rum, and spread it over the black shadows on his jawline.
“Jenkins,” he said. “He’s set up some sort of game in his car on the train. Says it will be novel.”
“Novel” is not a word one likes to hear from an older vampire. So often their ideas of novelty involve pain.
“Have the front desk call me a taxi.” He studied his lapels, fingering the wide black expanse, before he held out an arm and I placed his watch, freshly wound, on his wrist. Gold, not silver. A showy piece, but one vampires would appreciate. They like gaudy on other people.
He looked at me. “Do you want to come?”
He hadn’t asked me that before. It wouldn’t be anything new to have me there waiting on him while he gambled, but previously I’d avoided the vampires. They like nonhuman blood more than human and they’re not hesitant about feeding on servants. Would his presence keep me safe?
But there were tired blue shadows under his eyes. He needed backup. He needed a friend there.
His servant would have to do.
It’s been fun, but lots of research in an era I haven’t done much with. Otoh, the point of divergence from our own is almost a century earlier so lots of leeway.
In my position as SFWA President, sometimes I have to confer with fictional characters.Let us begin by acknowledging that this is a rancorous period, full of clashing agendas, bewildered onlookers, and all too many innocents caught in the crossfire (although it is not the first time we’ve seen these storms, nor will it be the last.). And that right now making an eligibility post particularly mentioning Hugo Award categories like Related Work is something that some of us are circling and wondering about.
And my answer is yes. Yes, you should. Why?
Because it helps people discover the work that you’re proud of. You know what you wrote. You know what you want to make sure they see. It’s okay to say, “Hey, if you’re looking to read something by me, I would try this.”
Because it helps people read widely. Every writer in F&SF should — well, I don’t want to make it seem mandatory so I won’t say that you must do this, but you should at least feel free to make eligibility posts. So when someone’s poking around, they can find your stuff and read it.
Because you shouldn’t self-censor out of modesty when talking about your work. You are its best champion. Go ahead and help people find the best examples of it. Be humble and lovable in some other way. (Thank you to Erin M. Hartshorn for the link to the piece of self-effacement.)
And so, I’ve finally been prodded by a Twitter conversation into doing my own in part because I want to say to you, no matter where you are sited in the bizarre and incredibly wordy conflicts, that you should do it. Let’s have lots of wonderful reading lists, the more the merrier, and part of creating those is making readers aware of what you (and others, sure) have done. Please feel free to post a link if you’ve made an eligibility post. Yup, even if you think you’re not welcome. You are.
Novel: Kevin J. Anderson’s excellent Wordfire Press published my first novel, Beasts of Tabat, the first in a fantasy quartet. SFWA members can find a copy of it up in the 2015 Fiction forum. There have been some nice Amazon reviews, but I know the book isn’t everyone’s cup of tea and there’s been some awesome awesome novels published in 2015. *goes back to read that self-deprecating piece again and quickly moves on*
Novella: Nothing this year, but wait till you see the one Bud Sparhawk and I have coming up in Abyss & Apex!
Novelette: Also nothing this year.
Short story: As always, plenty of stuff here. The pieces that I am proudest of are Primaflora’s Journey, which appeared in Beneath Ceaseless Skies, “The Subtler Art”, which appeared in Blackguards: Tales of Assassin,s Mercenaries, and Rogues, edited by J.M. Martin, and “Marvelous Contrivances of the Heart,” which appeared in Fiction River: Recycled Pulp, edited by John Helfers. I am glad to send a copy of the latter two to any requester.
Please feel free to comment and include a link to your own eligibility post. In this coming week, I’ll also be posting a list of my favorites from 2015, but there are so many it may take a while, plus I’m still reading a few.
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Teaser from “In My Brain Were Stored a Thousand Pictures” – http://t.co/6XUnD8b93p #amwriting
RT @Catrambo: Teaser from “In My Brain Were Stored a Thousand Pictures” – http://t.co/6XUnD8b93p #amwriting