The Yellow Play

Today, my short story “Palimpsest” is being published. Has been published, in fact. It’s up in the Summer 2015 issue of The Sockdolager, so it is both free to be read online, and may also be purchased for the exceedingly reasonable price of one dollar American. The editors have been great to deal with, and the magazine strikes me as quite beautiful, although I freely acknowledge I’m a bit light-headed about seeing my name on the cover.

(You can get it from Amazon! Also not from Amazon, if that’s your preference.)

“Palimpsest” is somewhere between pure secondary-world fantasy and straight-up horror. It’s work-safe, if a bit weird. It’s the first publication of any of my accepted stories.

I hope you like it.

A slight decrease in centiBrads.

I’ve been putting off writing about this for a while, but the extent to which I’ve been doing that has been getting ridiculous, so.

In the last month, I’ve gotten three acceptances for my stories. They came in over the course of a single fortnight.

It would be undignified to say I spent an unusual amount of time making stunned giggling noises, but I cannot exactly deny it. There was also a small part of me that couldn’t quite be convinced it wasn’t a mistake, and was having wild ideas about desperately insisting to editors that there could not be any takebacks. (Given some of the stories I’ve heard about people submitting their works[1], I suspect a lot of people have wild ideas along these lines. I think this is fine, as long as said wild ideas remain firmly in the realm of “and then the cat and I will go out to celebrate, and we will have drinks at the bar owned by Carapace Clavicle Moundshroud[2].”)

I think I’ve managed to sit back, breathe, and not make an ass of myself. I’ve gotten edits in on schedule, and although I was not as fast as I’d have liked, I still had them in before the deadlines. I’m pretty sure I haven’t been a prima donna about anything, although I suspect I’ll be second-guessing myself annoyingly about that for a few months yet[3].

It’s been odd. Part of me is genuinely startled that my stories were picked, because that part of me was expecting nothing but rejections for another two years. Or three. Or… however long it takes to get five hundred rejections[4], I guess, which I vaguely had in mind as a “you need to go home and rethink your life” pausing point.

But mostly I’m just really happy. And yes, details about the stories coming up tomorrow; right now I just wanted to get thoughts about acceptances out.

[1] Everyone’s heard the one about an editor who was in the washroom at a con and had someone slide a manuscript under the stall door, right?
[2] Still one of the most glorious names I have run across in fiction.
[3] You know the kind of thing; I disagreed with an edit, and I explained why, and are you supposed to do that, and was I condescending oh god I hope I was not condescending, everyone has been so courteous and professional and I have no idea what I’m doing and everyone clearly knows it.
[4] One may find the explanation of centiBrads in an earlier post.

A sound of thunder

There is a very large dumpster out in front of our house. It’s a temporary thing, because the neighbourhood is cleaning out the woods. (The woods have been prone to collecting garbage, half-bricks, the occasional piece of broken furniture, at least one defunct barbecue… the kind of thing it’s moderately inconvenient to keep in the house until garbage day.)

Every time a large object is thrown into the dumpster, there is a gigantic rattling clang. It was an unnerving way to wake up, and that’s just for me.

Lucy didn’t come downstairs for breakfast today. After an unnervingly long search, we found her under the bed, and very not interested in coming out. We got her out anyway, because we wanted to make sure she wasn’t hurt, and she’s fine. We put her and her food in a room that’s got no windows to the outside, and she stared at the door for a bit before settling down to eat.

She’s out in the hall now, but she is extremely cautious about the noises. Wherever she is, her ears are pointing towards the dumpster.

Hoping the noise does not go on too long.

The radical notion…

I’ve been thinking a bit about Mad Max lately; specifically the Fury Road movie. I’m fond of the franchise in general, although my interest mostly lies with the post-apocalyptic setting of the second, third, and now fourth movies. And the fourth movie makes me extremely happy.

I am very fond of the post-apocalyptic genre, and I found the character of the protagonist–the fact that she existed, and how the movie handled her–to be deeply affecting in a good if startling way. That said, while I’d heard that the movie was being described as feminist, I don’t think I really thought about it at the time.

(I actually tried pretty hard not to think about it, because I was honestly not expecting it to be really better than most action movies, and I did not want to get my hopes up and have disappointed hopes get in the way of my movie enjoyment. I am not sure if this is selfishness or compartmentalization, and I am okay with that.)

I’ve seen arguments both in favour and against its being called a feminist movie. I’ve thought about it, and because it helps me to write things out when I think about them, I am rambling about it here. I think there are a few ways to parse the definition; looking at the creation of the work, and two ways of looking at the work itself.

Also there might be spoilers, I guess, so time for a break. Continue reading “The radical notion…”

Tiny silver skulls, and old griffins in the cold.

Beasts of TabatBeasts of Tabat by Cat Rambo

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

(Full disclosure: I’ve taken writing classes from Cat. That said, I have liked her work since before I knew to even recognize her name–may I recommend the lovely Events at Fort Plentitude, which I first read in Weird Tales–and I think my review fairly reflects the fact that, dammit, she’s good.)

Short summary: this is a secondary-world fantasy primarily set in the great strange port city of Tabat, which is about to have the Duke step down and hold elections. It revolves around two characters: Teo, a young country boy indentured into servitude at the temple of the Moons, and Bella Kanto, the gladiator whose unbroken string of triumphs in the annual Winter-vs-Spring battle have led to twenty years of long winters and late springs.

(This isn’t a children’s book, by the way. In case anyone was wondering. It’s not gratuitous, but my niephlets aren’t going to be getting this one for a few more years.)

I was expecting a straight-up secondary world fantasy–an adventure, or what you’d traditionally call a romance. There is some of that here; I think you see it most strongly in Teo. But there’s more life than there is just adventure, if that makes sense.

Second, a lot of the fantasy adventures I mentioned are about solving a problem. Beasts of Tabat is so much more than this. There are problems, yes, and some of them get resolved, but this is not a book where the Tour goes around collecting Plot Coupons and applying them to a Clearly Defined Problem. This is coming into a world in flux–on a personal level, a professional level, a social level, a magical level–and watching it turn into something new and wonderful.

(This is perhaps an excellent time to remind people of the origins of words such as “wonderful”, “fantastic”, and “terrific”. Terry Pratchett said it best.)

I think this works because of the attention paid to the characters and the small details. There’s Bella Kanto and Teo, but the characters moving around them and affected by them (I’m particularly engaged by Eloquence Seaborn and Leonoa, but you can take your pick) feel so distinct that those two feel pleasantly more like windows to the world than heroes in it. (I grant Bella Kanto is of heroic stature, but it’s not because of how she’s framed in the text.)

The growing unrest, the prejudice against the Beasts, the changes coming–this is the kind of thing that could get handwaved into a simple didactic dichotomy, and instead the depiction of what living in a world like this is like makes it interesting and involving. I am having opinions about this world, dammit, and I love it.

(There are several other stories set in Tabat, which are listed at the bottom of the page here; I’ve read half a dozen of them, and am going to go read more now that I’ve finished the novel. Just figured I should mention (1) you don’t need to have read them and (2) they’re worth checking out.)

I want to see where this goes. I need to see how it comes out. And it will be wonderful.

Into April.

More and more, I feel like I need to make decisions not on what I want to do, but on what I want to do most, and how much time I have.

Part of it’s the new job making me feel that way. I don’t think it’ll be bad; the worst thing about it is that it’s in a location I’d prefer not to work, and I can cope with that. I’m just feeling very tiredly adult about leaving a job that I was actively happy to work at for a pragmatically-better job where I might not be as happy.

(Plus I’m leaving my current position to take the new job, and I can’t actually recall the last time I left a work contract before it was due to end. I’ve refused a renewal in one case, but that’s it.)

Part of it’s that while my wrist and elbow are getting better, they’re still not all the way better; I was knitting a bit today, and I had to stop. I’ve got several projects I want to get done, and I’m at the point where I need to figure out what few I’m going to get down in 2015, and whether or not I need to frog some.

(Frogging is unwinding a piece of knitting. It’s called frogging because you “rip it” back–ribbit, get it? Similarly, unknitting more slowly is called tinking, because “tink” is “knit” backwards.)

((Thus is knitting vocabulary developed.))

Aside from that, I’m reading Beasts of Tabat and playing Below, both of which have come out this month and both of which I am really excited about. (I may have also spent the weekend watching Daredevil, which has put a crimp in my writing time.) I’ve been able to pick up a bit of knitting again, although I think I’ve over-extended myself.

Hectic times

Today’s actually been a really good day. It was a low-pressure morning, I got the tracking information for my incoming shinies, I installed and noodled around on Pillars of Eternity, and I went to go see It Follows with the light of my life. (Who discussed doing science to the monster in the car on the way back.)

Pillars of Eternity is fun; it feels a lot like playing Baldur’s Gate back in the day[1], although I haven’t yet resorted to the tactic of summoning kobolds to fight for me and then looting the short bows for resale when they got killed and disappeared in a puff of smoke. It’s a bit crunchy, it feels fairly linear so far, and it has some gleefully creepy moments that I’ve been enjoying greatly. It’ll be good to play through, I think.

It Follows was… I don’t want to say it was surprisingly good, because I wasn’t expecting it to be bad. (Following under cut due to spoilers–mild ones, but it’s a really solid movie and people should get to watch it without spoilers if they so choose.)  Continue reading “Hectic times”

Wristcrunch

Well, I’m basically not allowed to type. I’m hoping very very hard that this situation is resolved by Monday morning. I can handle a weekend of no typing; I am less good with a workday of same, due to the truth of that immortal refrain “I don’t work and I don’t get paid”.

(This is not to say that I’m happy about the lack of typing, but at least my phone allows for Swype so I can ramble a little.)

Mostly I’m really hoping that the underlying issues – whatever they are – are easily resolved. Otherwise I’m going to need to start dictating writing into my phone, and I’ve got no idea what I’m going to do for editing.

Lost rules.

So over the weekend I had coffee-and-talk with Jason from Genesis of Legend, and among the meandering and many-many-lots recommendations shared[1], I had some thoughts that were turning into a post on the difference between video games and tabletop RPGs.

Then there was a Windows Update and a reboot.

(The gist of it, roughly, was that you expect to have everything necessary to play a video game, but you are expected to bring additional knowledge to the worldbuilding of an RPG–sometimes obvious, sometimes specific–and therefore they require a greater effort.)

There was also something about the difference between games (with rules) and toys (without them), which was basically a clumsy exploration of ideas expressed in one of Chris DeLeon’s essays on the topic, which are honestly very worth reading.

[1] If anyone out there has not read Strong Female Protagonist, may I sing its praises? Right then. Carry on.