Anniversaries

So, two years ago today we drove off to Raleigh and got hitched. (I don’t know what it says about our ability to remember dates that if that blog post didn’t exist, we’d still be looking for our marriage certificate to figure out what day we got married.)

Anyway, we met at a science fiction convention (the International Conference on the Fantastic in the Arts in 2001), as you do. It was in Ft. Lauderdale, so that’s where we met, despite Christopher having recently moved back to Kentucky. Kelly Link introduced us, which is also not that unique a story. Nothing as interesting as Jeff Ford’s story of meeting his wife Lynn:

The Wolfman mask is a shout-out to my wife, Lynn.  Sept. 1st was our 27th wedding anniversary.  Our first date involved a wolfman mask, a bottle of tequilla, climbing a mountain, discovering an abandon shack with a letter in it written in pencil from 1932 that said "Love You Forever" in the salutation.  That was our first date and we’ve lived together ever since. 

For our part, what actually was our first date is still an open topic of debate. There’s one school of thought that says it involves an underground art show, dancing to John Hammond covers of Tom Waits in a sad hotel room someone lived in, packaging up a camera in the middle of the night and phoning Richard Butner (otherwise known as The Best Man and Web Bunny). That school is SO overly optimistic. I might concede that a Shakespeare in the park night a few weeks later was a real date, but honestly? I think it was when we went out to a fancy dinner at a chichi Pacific Rim-influenced restaurant where C knew the chef, drank martinis, and agreed that we liked each other; then I turned the wrong way down a one-way street on the way to a movie theater where we watched the Most Depressing French movie ever. THAT was definitely our first date.

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Yeah (updated)

David Moles is my hero.

Some are perhaps rightfully upset that he busted the password-protection wall of SFWA, but it’s nothing many others haven’t wanted to do for days. Charges of "copyright infringement" are ridiculous. I’m no lawyer (thank god), but if a comment on a private bulletin board can be considered "intellectual property," I fear for the people closely guarding such real estate. It made me think of a relevant quote from Thomas Jefferson:

It would be curious then, if an idea, the fugitive fermentation of an individual brain, could, of natural right, be claimed in exclusive and stable property. If nature has made any one thing less susceptible than all others of exclusive property, it is the action of the thinking power called an idea, which an individual may exclusively possess as long as he keeps it to himself; but the moment it is divulged, it forces itself into the possession of every one, and the receiver cannot dispossess himself of it.

Someone NEEDED to expose the truly venomous ideas some have been peddling, for however long it lasted. I think it’s graceful that David offered (and made good) on taking them down when asked.

Some SWFAns used to being behind closed doors seem much more concerned about their reactions being made public than they were about the very public incident.

Anyway, are they right to have barred him from the newsgroup? Sure. It’s policy. And he knew that when he did this. Good on you, Moles*.

p.s. For irony, definition of, see this comment at PNH’s, where it is revealed that at this year’s Hugos Connie Willis set the new record for fiction Hugos, beating out Mr. Mud. (If this isn’t true, please let me know.)

p.p.s. I agree with Jackie M.; keep your SWFA memberships if you can, folks, you’re needed there.

UPDATE: See Colleen’s excellent post from the perspective of an outsider who’s an SF fan:

Frankly, I don’t care why Ellison did it and other than hoping he privately apologizes to Willis (who might not want to hear it), I don’t care what he does from now on. But you can not call yourself a professional organization and then have this happen and not act on it. This was not a roast – it was not a meeting of comedians and beyond that, it was not a gathering where it was even possibly suggested that a man might grab a woman’s breast in jest. So it should not have happened. And when it does, then you need to take steps to set things right.

Folks were dressed up and hoping to win a great award for their work – it was a big big night for them. Why dirty it with this kind of joke and then, after it happens, why not apologize for it? Why not strive to bring some level of maturity and responbility and professionalism back to the evening?

I don’t care what every sci fi writer on the planet thinks about this. What I want to know is how can you possibly expect us, the fans, to care about who wins these awards if they are given out in an atmosphere that I would not allow at my neighborhood block party?

Go read the whole thing. (As a side note, she’s addressing World Con and the WSFS, not SFWA, which is appropriate– although it’d be nice if SFWA wasn’t just being the bastion of infighting about whether it was "okay" or not, when it clearly wasn’t.)

*ikins (note: inside joke)

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Nothing Like Einstein

James Morrow reviews Tim Powers’ latest in BookWorld, and he starts things off talking about one of my favorite short stories:

In 1990, Karen Joy Fowler published "Lieserl," a piquant and moving tribute to Albert Einstein’s daughter, a woman largely neglected by history and, sad to say, the great scientist himself. As the story unfolds, the young Einstein, ensconced in a space-time bubble, receives a series of letters from his first wife, Mileva Maric, recounting Lieserl’s birth, preschool years, adolescence and death. In the final scene, a quiet indictment of Einstein’s passive parenting, the scientist imagines sketching a valentine and then writing his daughter’s name within its borders: "He loved Lieserl. He cut the word in half, down the S with the stroke of his nail. The two halves of the heart opened and closed, beating against each other, faster and faster, like wings, until they split apart and vanished from his mind."

"Lieserl" is a tough act to follow, but in Three Days to Never Tim Powers has done so with brio, bravado and a salutary measure of lunacy.

Anyone read it yet? (Mr. McLaren?) Sounds like one for the TBR.

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Good Weekend Reading

The new issue of Ideomancer is up and it features short stories from some of the most kick-ass of the Kick-Ass Writers With Cervixes Brigade, genre division. I’m talking here about Hannah Wolf Bowen, Amanda Downum, Sarah Monette, and Haddayr Copley-Woods (who is so good that one of the best readings I’ve ever seen featured three other people reading one of her stories when she wasn’t even there!). You’d be a fool and a loser to pass up that line-up.

p.s. TwoThree of these ladies will have stories in the next issue of Say… which really will be out between now and Thanksgiving. Life has skewed the schedule, but it is not a dead market and this next issue is going to be all sorts of awesome. Promise.

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Bad News Blues

Word of the latest casualties in the Village Voice evisceration is traveling this morning, and it appears that book review editor Ed Park is no longer there. A shame, that. Park’s reviews were always thoughtful and on target and his impeccable taste meant good books from all over the place got covered. The NYT has this:

Ed Park, a senior editor in charge of the books section who said he learned by telephone on Wednesday that he was being let go, said he was “shocked and insulted” by the firings. But, he said, “I could see that this was coming,” in part because of talk of centralized arts coverage. He added that Village Voice management had an “attitude of disdain for what I thought were the strong points of The Voice. It was a swaggering attitude that their chain of papers were so good and The Voice was an embarrassment and we have to get up to their level somehow.”

Here’s hoping Park lands somewhere prominent quickly and that the people who made this decision experience stabbing pains all day. And Jenny Davidson says he’s working on a brilliant novel, which is a bit of good news in with this very bad stuff (see link below).

See also:
Jenny D mourns the firing.
Eek on Robert Christgau.

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Alan for President (updated)

Of something? Can’t we make this man president of something? Like SFWA?

Just look at this.

Let loose the puppies of war. Beautiful.

p.s. Greg Frost has talked with Connie Willis, who seems to be wisely and gracefully letting what happened speak for itself.

p.p.s. Moles exposes some of the seedier side of all this, heretofore hidden behind the Great Wall of SFWA Lounge password protection. (There’s some good stuff as well.)

And I’m nominating Rosenbaum for VP. (Seriously, that’s some beautiful shit.)

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Playing Favorites

SirensI was immediately kicking myself after the Bloggasm interview for not mentioning one of my most favorite of blogs, and a fairly new discovery (for me, anyway — I found it sometime earlier this year, I think, via Darby’s also excellent blog): Austin Kleon‘s site.

From what I can tell, Austin is a superhumanly talented comic artist and writer with great taste in just about everything. And he’s always putting up these beautiful images from his works in progress (like that one over on the left from today) and tidbits of wisdom from other writers and artists. I would use the word inspirational, but that sounds too twee and fuzzy haloed. So I’ll say instead that Austin’s blog never fails to make me want to get on my ass and write, or just generally Get Things Done.

Anyway, I thought I’d do a little pointer in case anyone who reads this site hasn’t yet found Austin’s. If only all such silly omissions were as easily corrected.

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Wednesday Hangovers

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Animal Planet (A Different Topic)

Having a dog that leaps up to catch and, yes, sometimes eats bugs? Not so much gross as funny.

Here’s little Miss Emma, who’s nursing another little infection–we think the last round of anti-b’s just never did their total job:

Dscf0013_3

(Yeah, it was too dark and I doctored it, but isn’t she such a ham?)

And here’s Hemingway eating the lucky bamboo on C’s desk:

Dscf0011_2

Project sent (& now the ritual crossing of the fingers, glass of wine, and sleep, sleep, sleep).

p.s. Lest you assume otherwise, the E.T. pencil holder is mine, all mine.

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Two Things (REUpdated)

(Because I really am still on a deadline!)

1. Jeff VanderMeer and Evil Monkey have a sensible talk about Dirty Old Harlangate. (Oh, and also Alan’s response is to cheer for.)

For those of you not in SF — and some in — the reason a lot of us are reacting this way is because there very much is a League of Dirty Old Gentlemen in SF that seem to get a pass for this sort of behavior, and have for years, and we’re sick of it. And, yes, this one incident is inexcusable and disgusting in and of itself, too.

2. Project Runway fans will want to check out Project Rungay for the most hilarious show commentary ever.

Updated: The ever-brilliant editrix Susan Marie Groppi posted something in the comments I thought worth bumping up here so none of y’all miss it; it’s what I was trying to say before, but expressed with far greater clarity:

Alan’s right, and brilliantly so, that this isn’t Just About Harlan. What it feels like, honestly, is that this incident has become the center around which all of the vague and half-formed anger that we’ve all been carrying for years is finally coalescing. Everyone who has any contact at all with this community has some body of stories about the completely inappropriate ways in which older male writers feel entitled to behave towards women; for whatever reason, we needed that behavior to occur in a public forum (and against someone as well-loved and respected as Connie Willis) for all that simmering to come to a boil.

And one more: Lots of discussion in E. Bear’s comments (including by eyewitnesses), and too many other great posts for me to keep up with them at the moment. Despite this all being about something disgraceful in SF, I couldn’t be more proud of all the people who are providing thoughtful, no bullshit responses — that’s where we’re headed, tribe. That’s the field I want to exist. Not to get all warm and fuzzy.

Oh yeah. Deadline.

REUpdated: Ellison "apologizes," while majorly selling the "I Caught It From Tom Cruise"* batshit crazy insane vibe. Still, as many have pointed out, this is about larger issues anyway. (Thanks to Ed for the heads up.) Over at Patrick Nielsen Hayden’s someone has excerpted, for those who don’t feel like wading. (Thanks, Niall!)

And yeah, after reading this thoroughly, especially the follow-ups, the word apology definitely requires air quotes.

*Cruise, it should be noted, is a jumper and hugger, maybe sometimes a squealer, always a hyena laugher, but not a groper.

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