Author Archives: Eugie Foster

Should we build an ark?

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The sky opened and poured the contents of several clouds on our corner of Georgia yesterday. If we had a basement instead of a slab foundation, I’m sure it’d be squishy in here. We actually wondered if the water level could possibly overtake our front porch and start coming in under the door. Fortunately, the deluge stopped before it got that high, but it was quite impressively flooded out there. We’re at a low end of our cul-de-sac, hill-wise. Not the lowest, that distinction belongs to our neighbor, but the water course goes through our backyard. During the worst of it, we had water depths that could be measured in feet, not inches–deep enough to drown a critter, surely. I hope all the wild beasties got to shelter on higher land.


Backyard flood!

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Hobkin ate a candle!

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Had a very pleasant evening with fosteronfilm‘s brother. We had homemade pizza, beer bread, and birthday cake for dinner (yum!) and spent the rest of the time chatting. I adore Matthew’s family. I also get a kick out of watching the Foster family traits and seeing how genetics carry over–my repressed psychology researcher coming out. Matthew and his brother are very much alike in some key ways, moreso than I’d realized before. Not having siblings, I find such parallels downright fascinating. They both have interests that they’re fervently passionate about, being able to talk endlessly about their respective subjects if allowed. For a while, it was Matthew talking about movies, then his brother switching the subject to historical medals and related stuff, then Matthew volleying the subject back to movies–later, rinse, repeat. Eventually, I turned the conversation to family reminiscing, and it stayed there for the remainder of the night. Hee! My in-laws are adorable, every one of them.

However, as I was putting away the cake, I tossed away the blown-out candles, but unbeknownst to me at the time, I’d dropped one of them on the floor. Hobkin discovered it, and since the base was still covered in yummy chocolate frosting, immediately snarfed it down. I looked down to see him eating something, and puzzled, I tried to see what he’d gotten a hold of. The only thing left was a few slivers of wax. In the past, if it had been one of the ferrets, I would have panicked and rushed him to an emergency vet clinic. However, after our Styrofoam peanut experience, I wasn’t freaked. I was a bit concerned about the chocolate in the frosting, but overall, I’m counting on him being fine. Skunk digestion tracts are pretty hardy, especially compared to ferrets. There’s really no chance of the candle causing an obstruction. I suspect the tiny bit of chocolate has given him a slight upset tummy, but there wasn’t very much. We’re watching the litter boxes to make sure that all *ahem* comes out fine in the end. So far he’s already shown that he’s not obstructed, and I think I saw the wick, but Matthew was less certain. . . that’s probably TMI, isn’t it?

Helping dire_epiphany with a huge pile of edits for the Dragon*Con program book. I shall be scarce this weekend . . .

Skunk waking and more meds

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Took a Tramadol to ease the wingstubs and it knocked me out pretty hard. All woozy now. *wobble* Wouldn’t even be up, except some fuzzy beastie who will remain Hobkin was hungry and would not be fobbed off by my “Mmm wha? It’s not breakfast-time yet . . . skunk, go ‘way. Shoo!” He’s now curled up beside me being all cute and cuddly, so at least I feel appreciated.

The doc decided to up my prescription dose another 20Mg (to 60Mg/day for anyone keeping track). When I tried to beg off any more monthly follow-ups, as I suspected, he said no, but he did agree to put off the next one by two months. Eh, better than nothing. And he did adjust the dosage so there’s a legit. reason for him to want to check-in with me. Thibbity.

fosteronfilm‘s brother will be arriving at Chez Foster this evening. Our house is still deplorably messy despite a flurry of vacuuming, tidying, and miscellaneous scrubbing. Both brothers have August birthdays, so I baked a cake. Think I’ll also bake some beer bread for tonight. Ain’t I just the domestic diva?

   


Writing Stuff

Received a 33-day “a good read and I enjoyed its strange originality” bounce from Strange Horizons with a “look forward to your next.”

Also queried Son and Foe about a submission after it passed the 30-day mark, and it seems my story fell through a crack or two and never got read. Happily, thanks to my query, it’s been found and is now being evaluated.

Many thank-you notes I need to pen to Critters folks. Instead, I think I’ll have a nap . . . snzzzzzz.

State of the Eugie

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Wingstubs flaring up. Not good. It’s been a while since they’ve given me grief, so I’m somewhat taken aback by their renewed complaints. It’s made me look back over the last couple weeks–months even–and I’ve realized that I’ve been enjoying an uncommonly healthful period. Aside from the odd sinus headache and now this wingstub flare-up, I haven’t been hewn down by all the various ailments that usually plague me. It’s nice. Of course, I’m wincing as I type this because my arms hurt so much, but well, best to count one’s blessings late rather than not counting them at all, I suppose.

On that note, I’ve got another follow-up with the psychiatrist today. It should go without saying that I’m particularly sympathetic to the field of mental health and psychology specifically since I got both my undergrad and graduate degrees in it. However, I’m hard pressed to think of these visits as anything but a nuisance. Not to mention a bit trying on my already-strained pocketbook. I don’t have anything that I need to discuss with him–no mood swings, no suicidal thoughts, same ole same ole–or consult upon my general state of mental well-being, at least that he can do anything about. So basically I’m forking over the more-expensive “specialist” co-pay so he can refill my stupid prescription for Prozac, which I then have to, of course, pay for anyway at the pharmacy. I think I’m going to ask him if we can do away with these follow-ups and just give me refills without a visit. I suspect he’ll say “no” because they have to follow the dictates of my HMO, but I shall lobby fiercely for it. Blah.

fosteronfilm‘s brother is going to be swinging down here for a visit this weekend. He’s expected tomorrow, but he may arrive as early as today. We’ve been trying to get the house in some semblance of clean and tidy, but so far, our efforts have netted large, dense piles of disorder rather than a light sprinkling of mess throughout. Between Matthew’s Film Festival detritus and my Tangent and miscellaneous writing flotsam, we have filled our house with heaps o’ disorganized and seemingly random media.

And speaking of media and therefore media mail (smooth segue, huh?), has the USPS gotten really anal about cracking down on media mail fraud or something? The last couple times I’ve been in there with media mail packages to send out (review copies of stuff to my Tangent reviewers), I get grilled multiple times to verify “This is a book? You’re sure it’s a book? Only a book?” This, despite the lumpy, heavy, book-like quality of the envelopes I’m offering them, and the clear and boxy scribble by me in bright blue Sharpie of “BOOK MEDIA MAIL.” Not to mention the return label which identifies me as an editor and therefore one who, ostensibly, has a legitimate reason for sending bound material out and about. Do I look suspicious? Like I might be conning the USPS by mailing non-bound material for their cheap, cheap media rates? And if I was going to involve myself in the shady business of minor postage embezzlement, would I then go “nope, it’s really First Class stuff” after I’d gone to the effort of marking “BOOK” on the thing just because they asked me repeatedly? Delusions of “Closer” much? Grumph.

   


Writing Stuff

Got a nice review blurb from SFRevu for my story “The Tiger Fortune Princess” in the current issue of Paradox:
“Another very good story is ‘The Tiger Fortune Princess’ by Eugie Foster. Set in ancient China this masterfully combines Chinese legend and familiar European tales.”
–Sam Tomaino
Not huge piles of dissection and evaluation, but he liked it. Works for me.

Also filled out an application for the Speculative Literature Foundation Travel Grant. I asked them to help send me to China to do research on my YA novel. I find it very unlikely they’ll offer the grant to me, but I thought I’d try for it. Not sure how far $600 would get me, though, even if I should get it. Out of curiosity, I did some surfing to see if there were any other grants I could apply for as a writer. On that front, America sucks. Canadians appear to have grant opportunities sprouting hither-thither like weeds. I even found an appropriate grant out of Singapore, which of course I couldn’t apply for. But, while I found a couple American grants, they were very localized–Vermont and Boston–and thus I wasn’t eligible for them, and then there was the National Endowment for the Arts. To its credit, it does indeed offer a couple very phat grants, but aside from the incredibly fierce competition over them, and that I have to wait until next year before the next eligibility period begins where they accept applications (and I hope to have the damn novel done by then), what’re the odds of them awarding a grant to a genre writer? Zero? Negative ten? Foo, I sez.

A Novel Conundrum

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I’ve been meaning to try out the new “A Novel Conundrum” layout for a while. So, I spent a few hours customizing my LJ and then adjusting my website journal page display. I like it. It’s clean, with a nice, elegant navigation.

   


Writing Stuff

Got my check from Escape Pod for “The Life and Times of Penguin.” Hurray! And so reprint week continues . . .

Received notification that my ASIM submission made it past the second round of readings and is now waiting in the third for an editor to give it a home. Crossing fingers.

Did the final editing passes and put together my submission packet for the folktale that’s rolling off the Critters.org queue today. It’ll go in the mail later today. Just need to swing by the post office.

Club 100 For Writers
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Blood, blood, and biters

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The hospital vampires took their two vials. I’m quite fond of the main technician there. She’s both extremely pleasant and speedy proficient with the sticker. fosteronfilm and I had a discussion about needle technology. He thinks they’ve improved since he was a wee bairn, smaller needles with larger openings or something like that, because overall the blood letting procedure is much less painful and arduous than it used to be. I’m not so convinced that it’s the technology and not just a run of good techs. However, we are agreed that the little plastic collection thingy that allows them to switch vials without having to withdraw the needle is a lovely invention.

In other blood-related news, the vet called with Hobkin’s blood test results. He got a clean bill of health. Hurray! In fact, the vet said that Hobkin’s numbers were VERY good, not just “acceptable” but excellent. The only exception was his calcium levels which, while in the normal range, could stand to be higher. So, more cottage cheese and instant milk for our skunk. I’m just so delighted and relieved that his blood panel came out so well. More proof positive that omnivores thrive on a vegetarian diet.

In less good news, fosteronfilm went out to mow the lawn yesterday, and while he was doing some preliminary weeding, he disturbed a nest of fire ants. They nailed him four times on his hands before he could shake them off. Man, those buggers are vicious. So my hubby spent the next hour icing his bites and the evening in a Benadryl haze. Poor Matthew! And, of course, the lawn went another day without mowing. That’s something we didn’t have in Illinois, fire ants. Scary enough to make burly contract workers scream like little girls and go running pell mell away. In our first year here, we were ye verily puzzled at the behavior of these hairy, macho, grunting men we’d hired when they were constructing our sun room and encountered a fire ant hill. We thought, “It’s just some ants, sheesh” and mocked the big, burly contractors (behind their backs, of course, because we are neither insane nor foolhardy). Since then, we have come to understand the peril and menace which are fire ants. Fortunately, I haven’t been bitten, but considering how much more sensitive I am to insect venom, and how brutal fire ant bites are, I’m hoping to continue that trend. I’ve never been stung by wasp or bee either, so I have no idea whether I’m allergic.


Writing Stuff

Ooo! I received my contrib. copies, the contract, and invoice form for “All in My Mind” that was reprinted in Polish in Nowa Fantastyka. Yay! It’s strange receiving a contract after a story has been published, but it’s not like I’m about to make a fuss. I’m just pleased that I’m going to get paid. Not to mention that I now have copies of this story in a language I can’t read. How cool is that?

And another “ooo!” The Sword Review just published my reprint “Second Daughter.” This must be my week for reprint stuff.

Sunday’s my fun day, my I don’t have to run day.

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I have a hard time describing what it is about Sundays, but they have a certain feel that’s distinctly Sunday-ish. Sort of a blend of the end of sleepy leisure from the weekend and apprehension about the forthcoming Monday and all the stressors it brings. It’s a desperate yet also relaxed feeling–it’s still the weekend, but you can almost taste week’s beginning. There’s denial and Monday anxiety, and also a nearly manic need to not worry. That’s what yesterday felt like, except once I realized I was feeling all Sunday-ish, I told myself I didn’t have to be anywhere today, so there was no reason to fret about the impending Monday. It was like a burden lifting. Suddenly Sunday was all about lazy and mellow, without any of the negative.

There are perks to being unemployed.

Of course, as it turns out, I do have to be somewhere today. I just checked my calendar and I’m overdue to visit the hospital vampires for my regular blood test. Oops.


Writing Stuff

I’m feeling quite good about the folktale up at Critters. Did several editing passes, and I like where it’s at. Seriously tempted to send it out before its week in the queue completes.

Matthew first-readered the (first) Korean folktale and came up with an excellent suggestion to streamline the story. Going to roll up my sleeves and see about implementing his suggestion today. It means this tale probably won’t go into the Critters queue until next week.

Constantine, Gin, Sedentary Skunk

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It’s all stormy and dark outside. Such a lovely day to spend lounging around with husband and skunk. fosteronfilm‘s folks called the other day. It’s still hotter in their neck of Illinois than it is down here in Georgia. Freaky.

Had a nice, relaxing Saturday. Hobkin spent most of the day curled up beside me in full snuggle mode, recovering from his vet trauma. fosteronfilm has been slaving on the layout for his Film Festival program for Dragon*Con. He finally got it done and sent it off, and to celebrate, we watched Constantine on DVD and had gin and tonics. Shiny but vacuous fun.


Writing Stuff

2-day form nope from Fictitious Force. Oof.
Notification from ASIM that my submission there made it to the second round. Finger-crossing to commence.

The folktale up at Critters continues to get positive reactions. Rah.

Skunk-human trauma-drama

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Have you ever noticed how similar “trauma” and “drama” sound? Skunk drama. Human trauma. In short, the vet visit was traumatic for all. Hobkin has not forgotten nor forgiven the last time he was in there. Fortunately, the vet hasn’t forgotten the last time either. He didn’t suggest that they take him out of the room, and they even had me put him on the scale to weigh him, although in the past they have had a vet assistant scoop him up to put on the scale. However, even though I was in the room, along with his godmother and another skunk-savvy vet tech, all of us holding him, he put up a huge fuss, shrieking and struggling when they went to get a blood sample. He was very loud. So loud the nice couple in the next room with the bunny commented on it when we encountered them in the waiting room for check out. (The bunny looked rather put out as well.) And Hobkin slashed up my hand pretty good. That was somewhat on purpose on my part. I wanted to make sure that if anyone got bit, it’d be me, so I was prone to sticking my hand and fingers in his face when I saw he was getting ready to lose it.

My poor lil guy!

The vet couldn’t do a proper check-up because Hobkin wouldn’t tolerate him touching him except when he was restrained, and restraining him was too stressful for everyone to do for longer than it took to get the blood sample. So the vet didn’t charge us for the office visit . . . which is nice. We ended up only paying for the blood test and his shots. Although at the same time, I would have liked Hobkin to have received a thorough, hands on examination.

The general consensus on his teeth (the vet got a few chances to look into his mouth, and once Hobkin had settled down I was able to show his godmother and the vet tech the state of his gums) was that he can probably stand to go as is for another year, but to try to do what brushing and crunchy food feeding we can. Next year they’ll knock him out to do his exam and blood draw, and while he’s out, give his teeth a good cleaning.

Back home, Hobkin was groggy from the shot, and Matthew and I were exhausted from the experience. There was much napping all around.


How can someone so angelic-looking turn so completely into a demon beastie?


As we knew already, Hobkin’s pudgy and could stand to lose a half pound or so.


Writing Stuff

6 more crits this morning from Critters. So far, the tale has been very well received. Have started doing rewrite tweaks. Pair of editing passes completed.

Club 100 For Writers
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