Tempest

Apparently, Asimov’s owner forced Sheila Williams to kill a story she’d bought by Jim Grimsley that dealt graphically with child abuse and technology. Much discussion about this at the Asimov’s message board (Gordon van Gelder and George R.R. Martin weigh in, among others); see also Scalzi’s take. I always half-wondered if mailing the first issue of Say…, which contained Scott Westerfeld‘s story, "The Child in Society,"* internationally would get us in trouble, but it never did. Nobody reads!

(*This story doesn’t actually have anything all that offensive in it — certainly nothing graphic — but boy, does it make you think it will. And later Scott sent us another taboo story. For awhile there, I thought he was trying to get us banned in Canada.)

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Friday Hangovers

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Quietly Exhilarating Reminder

Glen Hirshberg says:

The point is, work. If anyone is still reading this blog for writing insights, there is no better or more important one I or any writing teacher or coach you will ever have can offer you. Clock’s ticking. Days are passing. You’re going to have sunlit, silent rooms sometimes. I hope you will, because they do help. But you also have subway rides, lines at the post office, lunch breaks, sweetly exhausted evenings. Want to be a writer?

And other stuff. And next he promises to talk about why the window-dressing (or lack thereof) can also be important.

But this one I thought worth pointing to, because I needed it, and maybe you do too.

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Lost Voice

A remarkable story in the WaPo about a tape of a 1966 Pablo Neruda reading that was missing for 40 years before someone started looking. It’s been found:

But what the poet read at the Library of Congress was quick and almost simple when compared with the rich and long version Neruda presented for the IDB. Holding tight to the IDB tape, Dorn said, "It’s much better than what he read at the library."

In the summer of 1966, she was a 20-year-old who had just come to work at the library. That June day, Neruda did his reading, had lunch with poet Stephen Spender, then returned to Dorn’s office and asked, she said, "Can I see the papers of Walt Whitman?"

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Wedneday Hangovers (updated)

(Sorry for the proliferation of hangovers this week, but I’m busy, busy, busy. I do plan a reading update and some other things for the weekend… she said, noncommittally.)

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Best X3 Post Ever

BeastBennett Madison nails why I enjoyed the hell out of this movie despite its shortcomings. Perhaps even making it safe for me to see it again(!) without shame. Here’s a taste:

The bottom line is that if you can’t see the beauty of a man in a Styrofoam catsuit delivering ham-fisted lines with a giant, shit-eating grin, you should really not be watching a comic book movie in the first place.

(Did one of us cheer when the Beast first came onscreen? Well, yes. And I thought Kelsey Grammar and the costuming lent a certain Grandpa Muppet quality that was very comforting; comforting like a big, blue, furry marshmallow.) Now go read all that post. Bennett Madison is so a superhero day job name anyway.

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Monday Hangovers

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Good Good

First off, Emma the dog is all antibioticed and doing just fine, to all you who have inquired. She already seems much better. Of course, ouch, $200-plus vet bill right after Wiscon, but so it goes.

Things learned from the Internet, # 14,501: Ants HATE baking soda, whoops, make that BABY POWDER. Scares them right off.

Now we eat chicken sausages stuffed with feta and spinach and watch probably crapish movies (Casanova, Flight Plan, something else). Should be a nice evening. Hope yours is too.

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