An absence in Illinois

Thank you to everyone for your words of condolence, sympathy, and support. They and y’all are greatly appreciated.

We made it safe and sound to Illinois. The drive was long; we got caught in rush hour traffic on I-294 yesterday morning, which was . . . unpleasant.

The wake will be this afternoon and the funeral tomorrow morning.

The obituary is lovely, but it seems incomplete to me. It doesn’t mention my father-in-law’s quiet sense of humor, or how infectious and warm his smile was, or his great, booming voice when he recited poetry or Shakespeare at the dinner table, or how much he loved going to the symphony and watching movies at home with his wife. It doesn’t talk about his sense of whimsy, unexpected and charming in a man who, upon first impression, seemed so stern–until you caught the twinkle in his eye. And it doesn’t remark upon his love of ice cream, his favorite dessert above any other, or how he enjoyed gazing out the window at the rabbits and raccoons as he washed the after-dinner dishes. So many things it doesn’t say. His stubbornness and his compassion, the strength he gave his children, the encouragement and approval he gave me–sharing with me the struggles and joys of being a writer; he truly was a father to me, much more so than my birth father ever was. And most of all, it doesn’t mention the gaping hole his passing has left behind.

He was much loved and is dearly missed.

The inevitable draws nigh

My mother-in-law called. DiL is not doing well, had to return to the ICU again and is very weak. The doctors wanted to put him back on a ventilator, but MiL and DiL were adamant that that wasn’t going to happen. He’s said “enough,” he’s done. After talking it over with DiL, they’re having the hospital people remove all support machinery and equipment except oxygen and pain meds. They don’t expect him to last more than 24-48 hours.

It seems that I won’t get a chance to say goodbye to him after all. I wish he could have gone home; I wish we could have taken him home in July when we were there. Now, they don’t think he’d survive the move.

It’s awful and sad. He so wants to be able to die at home in his own bed. It’s such a small thing, and it makes me heartsick that he can’t have that.

We’re readying ourselves to head up north.

Lighter hamsters!

So I didn’t end up buying new shoes. fosteronfilm was feeling blicky after fighting off a mini-migraine, and a few hamsters came out of the woodwork to harry my ankles. So we stayed home and re-watched the first two X-Men movies to prep to see the 3rd, and I did some hamster herding. But no fear, I still plan to celebrate our new-found financial security by purchasing a pretty accessory item. Although now I’m thinking I want to buy a new purse instead.

With the reality of my new job, I suddenly find that the hamsters I’ve been juggling have become lighter and more aerodynamic. Just knowing that I can put some down without having to be concerned about starving is a huge load off my mind. Plus, I’m enjoying the juggling again, when before I was just wanting to fling ’em away as fast as I could.

Nice hamsters. *pets*

X-men: The Last Stand was shiny. It would seem to wreak havoc with the comic book X-men universe, which is why I suspect a lot of the fans really panned it, not to mention all the plot-device-ish writing. It was pretty, and there were many explosions, which is what I was going for. Nevertheless, I found it to be a downer. Oh, well. There’s still Superman Returns to see.

   


Writing Stuff

I normally don’t have time to write Tangent reviews anymore, aside from the rare story here and there to fill in for conflict-of-interest situations, or the occasional special issue/publication I’ll snag to review; having first pick of review material is, after all, one of the perks of being the Managing Editor. The name Harlan Ellison® in the table of contents of the September issue of Fantasy & Science Fiction caught my attention. He’s one of my all-time favorite writers, one of the main reasons we attended our first Dragon*Con (the other big reason being Ray Bradbury, who also attended that D*C).

I’m awed by the man’s sheer fire when he speaks. I’ve met him–and got hit by an embarrassing episode of star struck, barely managing to babble something trite and inane along the lines of “I’m your biggest fan!”–and I aspire to write prose as visceral and compelling as his. So, of course, I had to review this issue of F&SF.

As it turns out, Harlan didn’t offer up a new story (alas), but rather the kernel of a story idea, a la a writer’s group “Shelley” exercise. Cool and interesting to see the results. My review here.

Received:
– Contract from Realms of Fantasy for “The Devil and Mrs. Comstock’s Snickerdoodles.” It’s slated for publication in the Feb. 2007 issue. I was hoping that it’d make it into an ’06 issue, but since they pay on acceptance, it’s all good. And I seem to have gotten a per-word raise compared to my last sales to them. Sweet!


® Harlan Ellison is a registered trademark of the Kilimanjaro Corporation

It’s official. I’m an Editor!

Squee! I got the job! I got the job! I’m going to be an Editor for the Office of the Legislative Counsel of the State of Georgia!

I’m gonna get paid to be a Grammar Nazi, with full health benefits and everything! And I’ll actually be doing something that I consider worthwhile, making legalese more accessible to lay people. Plus, I’ll be working with glenn5, who’s the wonderful-fabulous-awesome person who recommended me for the position in the first place!

Happy dancing in the streets!! I’ll be working in the beautiful Georgia State Capitol building. When I went in on Wednesday for the test/interview, I was ga-ga to wander around the place to soak in the ambiance. Rose marble! Sweeping staircases! Ancient, dark-wood furniture! Writerly inspiration galore!

I’m going to celebrate by buying a new pair of shoes.

Speedy-fast writing update

My cup overfloweth with hamsters. Ergo, quick post.

Took the MARTA into town today to visit with glenn5 and to try to qualify for my dream editing job. I second-guessed myself into making the wrong call on three of the questions, which I just want to scream about now. I should’ve gone with my first knee-jerk instinct, dammit. Too anxious to blog about the details, but if I get this position, I shall be very, very happy. And if I stressed myself into bombing the qualifying test, I’m going to be very, very mad at myself. *twitch*

   


Writing Stuff

Published:
“Nobodies and Somebodies” is now up at Aberrant Dreams! Go read, yo!

Received:
– Payment from the fine Cricket folks for “The King of Rabbits and Moon Lake.”
– Ditto payment from Writing-World for my first column installment.
– 2 55-day rejections from Escape Pod with lotso personal bits to ease the wah.
– 2-hour sale (Nope, that wasn’t a typo. Two hours) to Escape Pod–or possibly its sister podcast, PseudoPod–of a reprint of “Returning My Sister’s Face.” I barely had time to log the submission before I got the acceptance back. Woohoo! Podcasty goodness!

Workaholic is Me

Saw a re-run show on 60 Minutes last night about modern workaholics. They claim that work weeks are averaging 60-80 hours rather than 40 these days, and they blame the digital age for the increase: BlackBerry devices, smart phones, Wi-Fi, and related ilk.

It’s true that both fosteronfilm and I are working 80-hour+ weeks pretty regularly–heck, I routinely work 12-14 hour days, 7-days a week–and yes, like the couple they featured, sometimes we do indeed email each other in the same house, or even across the same room, rather than get up and go talk. But I dunno if I blame technology for my increased nose-to-keyboard time. I don’t have a BlackBerry–although I do indeed covet one with much wistful-eyed longing–and our cellphone is on the lowest minute plan available, relegated to “emergency only” usage. Plus I had easy Internet access (although not Wi-Fi) before in my old day job when I only worked a measly 40 hours (actually 38.75 hours) a week.

See, it’s not gadgets prompting my increased industriousness; it’s love. (And to a lesser extent insanity paired with anxiety over impending starvation.) I love what I do. And I’m thinking it’s gotta be the case with these other work-freaks too, because if you don’t love something, you’re not going to throw yourself into it for 80-hours a week, no matter how juiced-up the pay is.

Even when I’m ghostwriting website content about vinyl siding, I love the simple act of laying words on the page and getting them spruced up fine a hundred times more than I ever cared about what I was doing at my old workplace. And the times when I can actually produce content which interests (or fascinates) me, or best of all, fiction that makes me weep from the sheer intensity of the emotion I’m pouring out, why, that’s a better high than jumping out of an airplane at 14K feet.

And I’d better love it. The pay sucks, the benefits are nonexistent, and the lumps are pretty lumpy. There’s more disappointment in this game than gold stars, even for a writer who can manage to make regular sales.

So yeah, I love it. Good for me. That’s enough frivolous validation; there’s writing that needs doing.

   


Writing Stuff

I started getting back into my fiction yesterday. Haven’t written a word of it since we got back from Illinois. Then a flurry of emails came in; I stopped to reply to them (Dragon*Con work), then that segued to some outstanding (as in on the back burner, not the excellently cool “outstanding”) Tangent work, and I realized I needed to get some freelance words on the page. Suddenly my day was mostly over and me with only a few sentences of fiction written.

My fiction muscle is atrophying! I can feel it getting all limp and flabby. I need to bulk up dem hamsters, quit juggling them, and start using them as dumbbells. Or projectiles . . .

In the news-to-cheer-about arena, I asked my Cricket/Cicada editor, Deborah Vetter, if she’d be willing to be interviewed for my Writing for Young Readers column at Writing-World, and she agreed! Sweet! Major-big children’s lit. editor Q/A goodness forthcoming. I’m aiming for September’s installment.

And also in the yay news category, I got a very glowy review from sartorias for “The Archer of the Sun and the Lady of the Moon”:
“Eugie Foster’s “The Archer of the Sun and the Lady of the Moon” gave me that frisson I get when reading Chinese myth . . . I forget for a time I’m reading in English—recalling the same enticing sense of Beyond the Fields We Know that I got when first exploring Chinese tales in library books when I was small . . . Jealousy, love, power, mercy, and ferocity imbue the beauty of the tale with real emotion, but what binds it together and fixes it among the stars is the question of whether the finite can find harmony with the infinite.”

Read the full Tangent review and Sherwood’s comments on the other stories in Paradox #9: HERE

New Words:
– 2000 on a freelance jobbie.

Received:
– 9-day “Didn’t hold” from JJA of F&SF. Big, pointy disappointment on this one. I really had hopes that this story would make it past JJA, and he didn’t even finish it. Pook.

Pirates of the Caribbean 2, ahrrr!

Avast, me hearties! Caught a matinée of Pirates of the Caribbean 2: Dead Man’s Chest with me mateys fosteronfilm and Patrick yesterday. Blimey, but Bill Nighy as CGI tentacle Cap’n Davy Jones was absolutely amazin’, shivered me timbers he did, aye. A little darker than t’original, ahrrr, and with a decided The Empire Strikes Back feel’t. Nevertheless, the look of t’were enough to boonswaggle me deadlights. Although now I got a powerful urge t’spout pirate-isms and swing me a cutlass. Ahrrr.

Me bucko, arkhamrefugee, has petitioned me t’display pirate colors for Dragon*Con, which appeals t’this landlubber. But I needs to pillage me t’proper garb fer the occasion. Ahrr, a pox on me empty coffers. I wonder if t’editors would consider paying me in doubloons.

   


Writing Stuff

Yo-ho-ho! “The Bunny of Vengeance and the Bear of Death” in Fantasy Magazine #1 received t’Honorable Mention in Gardner Dozois’s The Year’s Best Science Fiction Twenty-third Annual Collection!

Good tidings, alases, and anxiety

Feeling better today. Much sleep and taking it easy seems to have nipped the impending flare-up before it could fully manifest (I hope). Whew.

Voted yesterday in the Georgia primaries. In the interests of actually having our vote make a difference, both fosteronfilm and I and became Republicans for the day so we could vote against some of the loonier loons. I felt a bit unclean, marking the little “Republican” box on the voter registration form, but some of the crazies who are running for office down here just make me shudder. We were also quite interested in the “special” vote to either annex the unincorporated bit of Alpharetta we live in into Roswell or incorporate us into our own town. We’re pleased to now be living in the new city of John’s Creek! It was something of a landslide too. Even better, the scariest conservative loonies lost.

Astonishing.

This might be the first election in all the time we’ve been here where the issues we cared about actually went the way we voted. Ah, the joys of living in a red state.

   


Writing Stuff

The premiere issue of The Town Drunk goes up tomorrow. Excited! And also more than a bit anxious.

Neither “Penguin” nor “Lesbian Zombie” made the Parsec short list, alas. Long-faced and bummed. But it was an honor being nominated, august company . . . screw that. Waaah!!

*sniffle* Well, at least the two Escape Pod podcasts that did make the short list are excellent: “Hero” by Scott Sigler and “The Trouble With Deathtraps” by Marjorie James. If you haven’t listened to them yet, go to!

Hamsters, hamsters, everywhere!

The Dragon*Con staff meeting was Saturday, whereupon I bolstered my Daily Dragon staff, bringing myself up to fully loaded (I think), and dire_epiphany asked me to adopt a hamster. Or rather, a third of a hamster. bevlovesbooks and sara1221 have already agreed to co-adopt the other two-thirds. Of course I agreed to be responsible for the care and juggling of my hamster segment ’cause I can deny dire_epiphany nothing . . . or almost nothing.

Also got a note from a computer gamer person in Poland who writes fan-variety gaming modules. Seems he’s working on a diary for a female character on the project he’s currently working on, and is using my blog (tone, I gather, rather than content, although that part is a bit fuzzy) to imbue it with realism. He asked if I’d be interested in reading and providing feedback on it. While I continue to be up to my ankles in wayward hamsters, I have to admit I was both flattered and intrigued, so I agreed to be a consultant. I’ve never worked on a computer gaming project before. I think it’ll be fun.

And lastly, I’m battling a lupus/MCTD flare-up. My own fault, this one. I haven’t had a flare-up in a couple years, due in large part to the daily dose of Imuran I’m taking. But while in Illinois, with my comfy routine thrown off, I forgot to take a dose. Of course I took it as soon as I remembered, but I began feeling kind of blah within 24-hours. I could have probably staved a flare-up off by keeping on a rigorous Imuran-taking schedule. But when we got back home, I forgot again–daily routine still in uproar–and last night, I fell asleep early, at around 6PM and slept for twelve hours straight (another indication of an impending flare-up), and fosteronfilm didn’t realize he needed to wake me up to take my Imuran. As a result of three missed/late doses in as many weeks, I’m tottering on the edge of a full-blown flare-up. I keep flashing hot and cold, on the brink of fever, my body is all stiff and achy, and my throat’s sore. Not good. I simply do not have the time to get sick now. Crappity crappity crap. It’s probably some hamster-mutated plague . . .

And just now, I started coughing, and I heard Hobkin suddently start making these rasping, coughing sounds too. The cuteness of him coughing at the same time as me is way overshadowed by my anxiety. I hope I didn’t get the little guy sick!

   


Writing Stuff

New Words/Editing:
– 600 on my “Writing for Young Readers” column article for Writing-World.com, a bunch of editing passes, a squint or two, and it’s off. Big, grown-up columnist, me.

Received:
– 209-day personal “Although we discussed it exhaustively, I regret . . .” from Cricket. Waaah!! *sobs*

To make matters worse, the next market I want to send this story to is closed to submissions until Mid-August. Snartleblast! Also, that again drops my submissions to the bug ‘zines down to one. Urg. Must send them something else soon.