Reading - capsule reviews

Been meaning to post some reflections on recent reading:

Highest Tide, by Jim Lynch

SarahP sent me this literary coming-of-age novel because there's a giant squid in it. The squid in question is found on the mudflats of Puget Sound by Miles O'Malley, a 13-year-old undersized, hyperintelligent naturalist with a fixation on Rachel Carson. When he finds more anomalous sea creatures in the water, he attracts the unwanted attention both of local media and a religious cult, giving rise to situations that are no more or less difficult for him to deal with than his parents' crumbling marriage, the declining health of his elderly best friend, and his crush on the town's local rock star.

The book's strength is Miles's voice, which expresses the worldview of a character who manages to be naive, cynical, and earnest, often at the exact same time.

This is one of them literary mainstream-y novels, but I found it pushed some of my SF buttons as well. Miles, small for his age and very brainy, is alienated enough to serve as a protagonist in any number of SF books, and the biological mysteries he encounters drive much of the plot.

My only real complaint is there wasn't enough squid.

***

Noisy Outlaws, Unfriendly Blogs, and Some Other Things ..., by the editors of McSweeney's

I had my eye on this YA anthology for a long time, but at $22 at the bookstores, I figured I could wait. I ended up nabbing it for $5 when McSweeney's had their sale some weeks back, and, wow, was I disappointed. Too many of the stories just plain bored me, were trying too hard to be wacky, and simply failed to move me in any way. Some exceptions: Nick Hornby's story (which, I admit, I didn't actually read, but rather heard him perform on This American Life), about a kid who grows up in the world's smallest country and eventually gets called up to play for the national soccer team when there's no one else available; "Monster" by Kelly Link, a funny and genuinely creepy tale of summer camp; and "Sun Bird" by Neil Gaiman, about an epicurean society that has run out of novel things to eat, almost.

***

The Clue of the Linoleum Lederhosen, by M.T. Anderson

This is the second volume in M.T. Anderson's Thrilling Tales Series, and though it's not as audacious in concept as last year's Whales on Stilts! (the villains of which are whales, and the whales are on stilts), I found it an even more satisfying read. The series stars Kate Mulligan, star of her own "Horror Hollow" novels, Jasper Dash, star of the "Boy Technonaut" series, and regular Lily Gefelty, star of no series. There are plenty of plot twists and hijinks to keep the book moving, but the story is mostly driven by Anderson's absurd humor. But it's not all just wackiness. Anderson explores the significance of being a fictional character from books nobody's read in decades, and in between the jokes, there are moments of lovely prose and poignance, such as when Jasper Dash confronts people who don't share his appreciation of rationality and optimism:

Weightlessness, after all, is not just anti-gravity; it is learning to long for the sky more than the safety of the dirt.

I dunno. I just love that line.

Anderson is an inventive and versatile writer. His YA books Feed and Burger Wuss showed a sophistication that I feared he might sacrifice as he turned his attention to books for younger audiences. But with The Clue of the Linoleum Lederhosen, he's found a way to thread thoughtful moments through the funny stuff.

And the funny stuff really is quite funny.

Lost waiters and strange dining

My poem "Lost Waiters" is now up in the August/September issue of Lone Star Stories, so you may read it if you wish, along with other fine things. G'wan.

***

I think I swallowed a bug this afternoon. My throat's been kinda burning ever since.

Killer roos and deadly ducks

If you wrote a work of fiction titled "Flesh-eating Kangaroos and Demon Ducks," people would think you were being goofy. But if that's the title you gave a news story, then you were just being descriptive.

SYDNEY, Australia (AP)—Before there were cuddly koalas, hoards of flesh-eating kangaroos, "demon ducks" and marsupial lions roamed Australia's Outback, according to recent fossil discoveries by paleontologists.

A team of researchers from the University of New South Wales working in the eastern state of Queensland made the discoveries in three new fossil deposits during a recent two-week dig.

Many of the fossils are older than 24 million years; one of the deposits is thought to contain fossils up to 500 million years old, according to Prof. Mike Archer, the university's dean of science.

A saber-toothed kangaroo and a giant 10-foot-tall, 881-pound bird scientists nicknamed the "demon duck of doom'' were among the largely unknown species uncovered in the dig, Archer told reporters Wednesday.

Oh, the world is so magnificently strange.

Bunch of doodles

I put up a bunch of doodles for Tim and Heather to peruse and use in my chapbook, and since they're up there, I figured why not post a public link to 'em.

Warning: The files are big.

Warning: All observation of such things as perspective, anatomy, and rules of composition have been waived.

So. Here's a bunch of doodles.

Kee-ai, Ka-boom

Okay. Having Kung Fu class out in a rain storm? That is fun.

Not terribly prudent, what with the lightning and all. But still. Insanely fun.

Show and Tell and Other Stories -- pre-order!

My chapbook, Show and Tell and Other Stories, is now available for pre-order from Tropism Press.

Here's the cover:



And here's the table of contents, featuring a brand new, never-before-published story, "Far As You Can Go":

In the Late December
Native Aliens
Anywhere There's a Game
Authorwerx
Show and Tell
Far As You Can Go

It'll also feature story notes and interior doodles by me.

It's scheduled for release at WorldCon, the last week of August. But, did I mention you can pre-order right now?

And, also, woo!!

Fried

It's hot and miserable all over.

It hit 118 here yesterday.

Frankly, it didn't seem that hot to me.

Numb, annoyed, pleased

Yeah, I decided to work from home today, since my desk chair at the office has been causing me pain in my neck and shoulders and numbness in my legs since December. The numbness actually travels up as far as my tongue, so it's hard to ignore. I've gone through our organization's process for getting a new desk chair, involving a prescription for a new chair from my doctor (who wondered if I'd get a million dollars if he wrote me a prescription for it), and an evaluation of my work area by our on-staff ergonomics guy, who took one look at my chair and said, "Hey, you're too big for your chair."

Still, no chair. Still, no feeling in my legs. So today, no Greg in the office, either.

***

My dad's vision is failing due to macular degeneration, so I ordered him a 5x magnifier to help him with reading. Today I received the box for said item, nicely packed inside another box and padded with much packing material. The only thing missing is the actual, you know, magnifier. I guess they figure old, blind people will assume that the magnifier's actually there, only they're too old and blind to find it.

***

I finished a story! For now, it's called "As Far As You Can Go" (that might well change), and if Heather and Tim approve, it'll go in the Tropism Press chapbook (which is going to be called Show & Tell & Other Stories). It's got a robot and a mechanical beast and a road beneath the road where live witches and disembodied hands, and it's about longing and friendship and story and ... it's done!

Tim sent me a PDF of the chapbook layout-in-progress, and it's going to be really, really cool. The cover's got a squid on it!

It was going to be either a squid or a robot.

No walrus. That's effed up.

I don't suppose there's a walrus in the entire state of Arizona. I know I've been here a long time, but the thought that I live in a state without a single walrus still freaks me out.

***

Last night in Kung Fu we were taught a move that involves yanking out your opponent's esophagus. Our instructor paused for a moment before adding, "And just as a note, please don't actually yank out anybody's esophagus in class."

That bummed me out.

***

Short clip of dudes landing a Humboldt squid.

Where is my donut?

How come entire days go by and nobody brings me a donut? I'm not even talking, like, a dozen donuts. I'm just talking one donut. It's 2:11 PM my time, and no one has brought me even one stinking donut.

***

Monday doodle:



***

I don't really need a donut. I've already had lunch. What I really need is a hair cut.

Why Amazing Stories died

Over on the Paizo messageboards, a satisfyingly transparent explanation for why Amazing Stories died. Interesting, instructive stuff about the business of magazine publishing here.

I really do wish Paizo had been able to make a lasting go of Amazing Stories. Jeff Berkwits, their editor-in-chief, was professional and pleasant to work with, and he seemed receptive to my stuff, having bought two of my stories in something like a two-month period. The magazine itself was attractive, and I liked the idea that my stories might reach an audience beyond the short fiction niche market.

Wizards of the Coast now owns the rights to Amazing Stories again, and I hope they do something with them, and if they do, I hope it's good. If you're a unicycle juggler, it's fine and good to peform for true connoisseurs of unicycle juggling, but I think the state of unicycle juggling will be healthier if we also perform for the people who generally prefer stunt gargling. Y'know?

Sale to new podcast market

So, the paying science fiction/fantasy podcast Escape Pod's been going strong for over a year, putting out quality fiction with quality production, and now they've spawned Pseudopod, a similar market with an emphasis on darkness and horror. I just sold them a flash piece, "Waiting Up For Father," which should appear there sometime over the next several weeks. The story was originally printed quite a few years ago in Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and I'm really glad it's going to get some fresh legs.

Pseudopod is just such a great name for a podcast, and I'm jazzed that I get to be an early contributor.

Twenty Epics

For something I had absolutely nothing to do with, I feel some connection to Twenty Epics, the new anthology from All-Star Stories being released today. It's not just because it's edited by my friends and esteemed colleagues, David Moles and Susan Marie Groppi. Nor that I was present at a workshop a few years ago when David was sort of piecing the anthology's concept together. Nor is it because I heard some early readings from the anthology at the last World Fantasy Con, nor because the table of contents is loaded with people who are not only among my favorite writers, but also friends and acquaintances.

Wait.

Those actually are the reasons why I feel connected enough with this anthology enthuse about it here.

So ... here's what Twenty Epics is all about, courtesy Amazon's description:

Epics have lost their charm. There was a time when you finished an epic. When an epic left you feeling not discontent and exhausted, but joyous, melancholy, rejuvenated, satisfied -- left you feeling that you were a better person for the experience. TWENTY EPICS will bring that feeling back. In ten thousand words or less. All-new stories from Christopher Rowe, Tim Pratt, Alan DeNiro, Rachel McGonagill, K.D. Wentworth, Marcus Ewert, Christopher Barzak, Meghan McCarron, Stephen Eley, Jon Hansen, Paul Berger, David Schwartz, Sandra McDonald, Jack Mierzwa, Mary Robinette Kowal, Zoe Selengut, Ian McHugh, Yoon Ha Lee, Benjamin Rosenbaum, and Scott William Carter. Edited by David Moles and Susan Marie Groppi.

Sounds pretty cool, huh? Yeah, it really is.

You can get it today at Amazon or Lulu. I'm not sure about this, but I think more money goes into David's and Susan's pockets if you get it through Lulu. But either way, they win, the writers win, and you win, because you get to read the thing.

And I did the math, and it's, like, a buck per epic. That's a lot of epic per penny.

Why sewing?

Kirsten's answer to my question "Why sewing?" deserves its own entry.

(Scroll down to Question #5.)

A handful of questions

It is a meme. It is the five questions meme. Here's how it works:


1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me."

2. I will respond by asking you five questions. I get to pick the questions.

3. You will update your journal with the answers to the questions.

4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.

5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

So, I think I'll put an upper limit of, say, six people, on account of I'm a bit busy with stuff.

Anyhoo, Tim grilled me, and here are my answers:

1. Why squid? I mean, you live in a freakin' desert, dude.

It was an ocean once, a long time ago, and the ghosts of sea creatures still swim overhead in the night.

Also ... giant squid! Their eyes are the size of dinner plates! Their beaks can snap steel cables! They grapple with the mighty sperm whale! Giant squid!

2. Rush breaks up. Then they reform... but without Geddy Lee. They get somebody else to sing. Hell, I don't know. That guy who used to sing in Extreme, and then in Van Halen. You know, that guy. They're having a show. They promise to play some "new material." Do you buy tickets and go see them play?

Are you kidding me with this question? Rush without Geddy Lee is analogous to a car without wheels. It's not just Geddy's vocals. It's his song-writing, his arrangements, his on-stage dorkiness, and most profoundly, his bass playing. I remember the first time I listened to the Moving Pictures album, in my friend Todd's Toyota Tercel, in the parking lot of Vet's Park back home in Culver City. The sound of Geddy's Fender Jazz, his riffs and melodies ... it changed my life. I love Alex Lifeson's guitar and Neil Peart's drums, but without Geddy Lee? Inconceivable.


3. Is it the heat, or is it the humidity?

It's the mutagenic gamma rays. Seriously, I hate the heat, but I'm no longer profoundly shocked by it. And 102 degrees with 3% humidity really isn't all that uncomfortable.

4. You're given one wish by the world's lamest genie, but it's not so
much a wish as a choice: You can save a guy you never liked that much from drowning, or you can eradicate all leaf blowers from the world, forever. Which do you choose?

I save the guy I never liked, but I lord it over him for the rest of his miserable life.

5. Another lame genie (they travel in packs): You can become a
bestselling author, but only if you give up beer and chicken wings
forever. Or you can kick the genie in the nuts, without fear of
supernatural repercussions. Which do you choose?

I think the crux of your question is a choice between success and recognition, or the small, daily pleasures of life. I choose the small, daily pleasures, for there are more small moments in life than large moments, and I seek happiness by trying to make as many of those small moments pleasurable as possible. What good would a bestseller do me if I had no beer and wings -- and the friendships implied by beer and wings -- to celebrate it?

Rare sale

Hey! I sold my poem "Lost Waiters" to Lone Star Stories. Woo!

With this sale, I've sold 100% of the poems I've written for publication.

Of course, I've only written two poems for publication, so the lesson may be to quit while I'm ahead.

Superman Returns

On the whole, I liked Superman Returns. Those first two Superman movies were formative film experiences for me, but Bryan Singer's loving continuation of them does them honor. Part of what makes Superman tick is that he's not just an alien brought up as a human, but he's a god brought up as a humble man, and Brandon Routh captures this with grace and poignancy.

Kevin Spacey turned in a perfectly fine performance, but I do think the Luthor character has gotten stale. Frankly, the movie version never made much sense to me. He's kinda smart, he's greedy, he's mean and sarcastic, and he succeeds far beyond his capabilities. Never very interesting to me. Let's see Brainiac or Mogul or Mordru or someone really formidable. Bizarro am formidable.

I wouldn't have minded seeing Kandor, or red kryptonite, or Krypto the Superdog (or Streaky the Supercat, or Comet the Superhorse, or Beppo the Supermonkey). Maybe Superman might have been lent a hand by Nightwing and Flamebird, the superheroes of the shrunken city of Kandor. Or Jimmy Olsen could have adopted his sometime guise of Elastic Lad.

But, hey, no movie's perfect. And if Superman Returns is a box-office success, maybe in the next one they'll tell the story I really want to see (yeah, that's Sonny Bono sitting next to Batman):

Technical gasping

I just got back from a special class at my Kung Fu school -- Technical Punching and Kicking, which was four hours of fun and gasping. But the gasping was totally worth it. We concentrated on basics, just doing kicks and hand strikes -- horizontal fists, ridge hands, back fists, front snap kicks, jumping side thrusts, spinning hook kicks, etc. -- with power, snap, and focus. The trick is to be making contact with the same power, snap, and focus at the end of the fourth hour as you were at the beginning of the first hour. That, and not falling down when you're holding the bag for a black belt. You'd think four inches of padding might be a lot, but sometimes, you might as well just be holding a t-shirt in front of you.

Golly, that was a fun class.

***

I've got fun work to do, too! Heather and Tim and their mighty publishing juggernaut Tropism Press are going to be putting out a chapbook of my short stories, kind of a Greg sampler, and I've got to draw some doodles for the interior art and write afterwords for the stories, and finish a new story so there'll be something shiny and previously unpublished in the table of contents. All of this is fun work, and Tim and Heather do good zine and do good chapbook, and it's fun to talk to them about cover illustrations and color card stock and such, so aside from a little performance anxiety on my end, all is good.

***

Soon, I am going to go eat a steak.

Vancouvered

Returned now from a few days in Vancouver, which is in the land we call Canadaland, which the locals call Canadia, and which is truly a very lovely city, with lovely blue bays and mountains still with snow, and many fun and vibrant and diverse neighborhoods and beautiful parks to walk through. We had a terrific time. I've posted just a few photographs should you wish to see evidence.

Good eats

Can't remember the last time I had really good lizard-on-a-stick.