Boost me, I'm poetical

A heaping spoonful of awesome poetry signal-boosts:

1) shweta_narayan is crowdfunding poetry to raise money for Clarion San Diego. Go take a look, chip in some money, enjoy the poetry goodness.

2) rose_lemberg is editing Stone Telling, devoted to literary speculative poetry. She's open for submissions now. If you have any interest at all, bookmark this site--it will be awesome. Trust me.

3) Okay, so this is less of a signal boost than an opportunity to share something cool. This is my favorite of the poems voidmonster collected for a recent poetry salon. For those with especially strong eye squicks, a trigger warning might not go amiss... though I had no problems with it, obviously. Enjoy!

O hai.

One of the downsides of being in this weird quiet transitional state is that I tend to emerge only when I have good news to report, turning this into a de facto brag blog. Still, I know at least some of you are reading to keep track of what's up with me, so:

"Attar of Roses," my first published story, is now available in podcast form at Podcastle. w00t!

But what I'd really like to do right now is boost the signal ofThe Open Source Women Back Each Other Up Project & Gentlemen's Auxiliary. Because I'm one of the lucky ones. When I was young and timid and insecure at my first con, and didn't know how to discourage this one guy who had latched onto my company as though he were drowning and I were a life preserver, somebody had my back. Somebody noticed I was uncomfortable and came over to help me out.

I've tried to pass it on, as best I can. I hope the rest of you do, too.

I am given to understand...

... that five links make a post.

1) jimhines recently put up a very timely post about introversion and the cost of social exposure. As somebody who is both an X-treme Introvert and pathologically shy (which I doubt comes as a surprise to anybody who's met me), I find it comforting to know that the Internet can be daunting even to people who--like Jim Hines--stick their neck out on a regular basis.

2) Recommended listening: NPR hosts a streaming version of Shearwater's new album, The Golden Archipelago. "Shearwater is fearless in its seriousness and often awe-inspiring loveliness: As The Golden Archipelago finds him examining humanity's complex relationships with nature, Meiburg's whispers can hit like screams, and when he screams, the effect is so clean and graceful, it's strangely calming." seajules, though it occurs to me that I have no idea whatsoever of your taste in music, this seems like music for you nonetheless--the sound of a storm-swept sea.

3) I will be at ConDor at the end of the month. I will even be on panels. Come one! Come all! Start a pool on how often my brain will lock up!

4) Last bit of "Armature of Flight" news: if you're interested in reading what I have to say about the story, there's an interview up at Fantasy Magazine.

5) And finally, my poem "Alexander von Humboldt Visits the Moon" has been nominated for a Rhysling Award. Let it never be said I don't know how to bury the lede, but too much good news all on top of each other just leaves me feeling... awkward.

Boom de yada

So "The Armature of Flight" is now up at Fantasy Magazine.

It's also available in podcast form. Read, in a spectacular bit of OMG-this-world-is-small, by one of my classmates from grad school, who I did not realize until last night is now a slush reader for Fantasy Magazine.

For those of you who care about such things (one way or the other, I suppose), the story contains Language. I know, I know. You are all shocked and appalled.

(And yes, this is the story that ties into the novel I'm currently revising.)
  • Current Mood

A loose gathering of things

Starting the year off right: PodCastle has accepted "Attar of Roses." Squee!

Other than that, the year goes steadily, though I could have lived without the disruption involved in the introduction of termites to the joy of sulfur and fluorine. Everything consumable that wasn't in factory-sealed bottles or cans had to be double-bagged; we used this as an excuse to be ruthless in paring down the collected kitchen cruft. Then we were sent out into a Major Rain Event. Fortunately stellatangdele and davecycle offered their guest room--can't thank them enough.

So the kitchen's now in rather better shape than I'd intended, though there's still bits of unpacking to do here and there. All the short stories are out there searching for loving homes; still haven't screwed up the courage to do the same for the poems. As for the three general "resolutions" -- read MOAR, cook MOAR, exercise MOAR -- two out of three's not so bad. Maybe I can count the kitchen work as exercise?

Finally, Hal Duncan puts his money where his mouth is and turns down the BSFA non-fiction nomination. If you haven't yet, do follow the link and see why.

Catching up: Movies recently seen

Ink: Off Netflix. A super-indie, ultra-low budget, independently distributed urban fantasy about Storytellers (who do not actually tell many stories) and Incubi (who do not actually seduce any women) battling for the sake of a single small child. If this sounds glurgy, well... you're not wrong, but it has a sharpness to it that keeps it worth watching. I was pleasantly surprised but not overwhelmed. Those of you less cynical than I will probably like it even more.

Avatar: All full of pretty. (I might have a weakness for geeky men with long braided hair.) Grace rocked. (I might also have a weakness for the prickly and difficult.) Would have liked the Na'vi to have in some way differentiated themselves from generic tribal culture. More than that, would have liked Sully to have been a wee bit less inutterably stupid.

Sherlock Holmes: An Aerogel of a movie, with great deftness and not an ounce of subtlety, driven by high-octane sex appeal. The perfect movie to see for New Year's with a group of good friends.

The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus: I saw this yesterday and am still making sense of it. I strongly suspect this isn't a movie for the uninitiated. But Terry Gilliam is the director, and Tom Waits is the Devil, and if either of these things make you want to see the movie, you should definitely go.

Out with the Old

Happy 2010, only a week belated. Here's hoping it treats people better than 2009 did.

We brought it in well, with friends gathered from near (in California terms) and far, with rib roast and parsnips and pumpkin pie and nog, with sunshine and ocean and only one plumbing disaster. I prefer to think of that last as a christening and not an omen.

Now I am getting my feet back under me and trying to get a strong start to the new year. Split pea soup is simmering on the stove and filling the house with its aroma. I'd say that's a pretty good start, myself.


For Zak, always.

For my sister, who understands.

For all of my friends, close and distant, new and not-so-new.

For the opportunity to do what I've wanted since long before I understood what it meant: to see my work published and read.

For being able to go to conventions and other large events, and be social--not perfectly, mind, but I'm grateful that I can do it at all.

For health, stability, and comfort, all of which I sadly take for granted far more than I should.

For the opportunity to live someplace I love; to walk outside and smell the ocean.

For all the things in my life that make me grin, or squee, or gasp in awe. For everything that's good about this world, that makes the less-good easier to take.

For the reminder to be grateful every once in a while.

I am a William Gibson character.

Last night I stopped by the drug store to pick up a gift card so I could buy a pet crab for my character in the Korean online game that I play with my sister.

The future happened while my back was turned, didn't it?

(Still alive. More content soon.)


Apparently trying to get CoR done by August 31 was not a great idea. I managed to stress myself into radio silence and run out of spoons in the process. Part of it was the other opportunities I was going to miss if I stayed single-mindedly focused on the novel redraft: the next Leviathan anthology (which has since gotten pushed back), the next Clockwork Phoenix anthology, and a nifty speculative poetry contest which my brain absolutely insisted I write something for.

... yeah, I've been writing poems again. Not at the same rate I did when I was 22 and not yet broken by the Awful Visiting Professor (Mr. Women Are From Earth Men Are From Mars), but at this point it's happened enough times to not be a fluke.

So I might not have a redrafted novel(la), but I've got 31,751 words toward one. And the first draft of a short story.

And my poem "Alexander von Humboldt Visits the Moon" won the Lunar Maria contest. SQUEEE. I'm not sure I can use enough "really"s to express how pleased and happy I am.

I blame thank rose_lemberg and shweta_narayan. Without their encouragement and inspiration, I'd still be thinking of poetry as something I used to do, way back in the past. (It's all their fault! :D)