This is it, the big moment. Blog alternative is about to turn 100. But, I suppose, first there must be that little matter of the post.
& indeed I have something to post about!
I sold a story to The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction.
Just got the check today. It's a little story called--okay, so I can't really give you the title, because most of the letters are crossed out (overstrike is the technical term) but if you can imagine that the word in is the only word in the title that is NOT crossed out, the story is called
"GOING BACK IN TIME"
It's all quantum fizzixy &, I think--& apparently Gordon Van Gelder thought as well--a lot of fun. Champagne is sprayed, ecstatically, that sort of thing. (I mean in the story, not here in my apartment, but that's just cuz I don't happen to have any stray champagne lurking about.)
Okay, that was the post. Now for the real important part, the Blog alternative. For those newer readers, who haven't been in for the long haul, I'll fill you in--or simply refer you back to Wednesday, April 18th, 2007, when my entire post consisted of 27 things to do rather than reading blogs. Since then, with more or less consistency, I've put a similar suggestion (sometimes 2!) at the end of each post.
I will admit to a bit of performance anxiety. 100. Ooh, gotta be a good one. Hmmm, I wonder what I'll suggest. What if it's not worthy? Oh come on, it's just an idea, silly girl. How many people are doing any of these anyway. Heck, you don't even do most of them. (Hey, I do some, sometimes.) Still, though, whatever.
So, I got over myself. (Yeah, right. She still thinks she's totally awesome, especially with that new short short story sale sparkling on the kitchen table!) (Hey, that's inconsistent--before when you were talking about me/yourself you referred directly to me as you & now you're going all she.) (Chill, babe.)
As I was saying--I got over myself (more or less) & decided to just do it. (Hope Nike doesn't sue me.) (The shoe company, not the goddess or the solid fuel propelled surface to air missile.)
Blog alternative:
100. Write a list of 100 somethings.
(I'll give you considerably less than 100 suggestions.)
100 things you like best about yourself.
100 places you have visited or would like to visit. (Reykjavik, the coffee shop down the street, Tasmania, Taos, The Jersey Lily in Ingomar, Montana, the moon--that sort of thing.)
100 words that start with W. (Winter is a nice one.)
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Monday, November 12, 2007
Dear Imaginary Student. Two words: Be plastic.
I just got an email from one of my high school classmates, whose friend's daughter is going to attend Montana State University in Bozeman, come fall 2008. She wanted the scoop & so queried some of us who had attended there. I thought I'd share my response with you. I will dedicate this post to my college roommate, Peggy, who died of cancer shortly before the 30-year class reunion.
Well, my information is mostly 30 years old. Grin. I loved the campus. Piece-of-pie-shaped dorm rooms in Roskie. Yay. Cheesesteak sandwiches at the Pickle Barrel. Karl Marx Pizza (of course, I don't know if K.M. still exists...) Bozeman Hot Springs. Museum of the Rockies. The historic Ellen Theater downtown.
Make sure you play lots of frisbee football & get up in middle of the night to make popcorn for a desperate architecture student (r.i.p. dear Peggy) & go see strange foreign films. Take classes that have nothing to do with your major. Submit something to the college literary magazine (is it still called Jabberwocky?) or at least read it. Listen to KGLT (the campus radio station, if I'm recalling the letters correctly).
Love yourself. Smile every time you see yourself in a mirror, as if you'd suddenly seen your best friend. (Because, of course, you have!) Remember that your purpose in life is to be happy. Write to me if you need a sudden squirt of positivity from a total stranger.
I checked out some property on Sunday: low-cost rental property that's being converted into really affordable condos. I'll cogitate on that for a while. Definitely still a buyer's market here. I might even get a chunk of land & put up a duplex for starters. So many options!
Blog alternative:
98. Compose a letter to a (perhaps imaginary) student who will be attending your alma mater. Give advice on the specific institution (When navigating the halls at J.F.K. Kindergarten, make sure you don't bump your head on the drinking fountain near the library...) & on school & life in general. (At least once an hour, remember to consciously breathe.)
or
Blog alternative alternative:
99. Look up the word plastic in the dictionary & be plastic for a day, with whichever definition suits your fancy.
Oooh! Get ready. Next post, Blog alternative turns 100!
Well, my information is mostly 30 years old. Grin. I loved the campus. Piece-of-pie-shaped dorm rooms in Roskie. Yay. Cheesesteak sandwiches at the Pickle Barrel. Karl Marx Pizza (of course, I don't know if K.M. still exists...) Bozeman Hot Springs. Museum of the Rockies. The historic Ellen Theater downtown.
Make sure you play lots of frisbee football & get up in middle of the night to make popcorn for a desperate architecture student (r.i.p. dear Peggy) & go see strange foreign films. Take classes that have nothing to do with your major. Submit something to the college literary magazine (is it still called Jabberwocky?) or at least read it. Listen to KGLT (the campus radio station, if I'm recalling the letters correctly).
Love yourself. Smile every time you see yourself in a mirror, as if you'd suddenly seen your best friend. (Because, of course, you have!) Remember that your purpose in life is to be happy. Write to me if you need a sudden squirt of positivity from a total stranger.
I checked out some property on Sunday: low-cost rental property that's being converted into really affordable condos. I'll cogitate on that for a while. Definitely still a buyer's market here. I might even get a chunk of land & put up a duplex for starters. So many options!
Blog alternative:
98. Compose a letter to a (perhaps imaginary) student who will be attending your alma mater. Give advice on the specific institution (When navigating the halls at J.F.K. Kindergarten, make sure you don't bump your head on the drinking fountain near the library...) & on school & life in general. (At least once an hour, remember to consciously breathe.)
or
Blog alternative alternative:
99. Look up the word plastic in the dictionary & be plastic for a day, with whichever definition suits your fancy.
Oooh! Get ready. Next post, Blog alternative turns 100!
Friday, November 9, 2007
"My great-uncle was eaten by cannibals."
Honey, I'm home!
As lovely as the trip was, I am happy to be back. On Thursday Nick & I had Cheerios for breakfast--they get giant boxes of cereal to be thrifty--since neither of us was feeling ambitious. (Besides, Cheerios sounded good.) Wednesday night I took him & his roomies out for Mexican food. That's what parents do when they visit, if they're following the parental protocol handbook. I can't remember the last time I laughed so hard. Anyway, after breakfast Nick backed up my files on some stray space on one of his hard drives so I have up-to-date off-site archiving. & then I was off into the wild blue (actually more wild yellow & orange & red, given the leaf state) yonder. I drove through some little towns & such rather than getting on the interstate right away. Best business name, Furbank, a pet-grooming salon in a town called Burbank.
That reminds me of something I forgot to tell you. Best quote from the convention: "My great-uncle was eaten by cannibals."
Meanwhile, back at the car. It's a longish drive. I stopped in Atkins, Virgina, to fill up with gas & get something to eat. Checked the trip set & I had gone exactly 1800.0 miles for the trip. (Oh, & earlier I'd called & left a message for my dad as the car was turning over 110,000 miles. One of those special father-daughter bonding moments. We're both odometer geeks.)
The whole trip (made just a bit longer by my lost-ed-ness near the Cleveland Browns stadium) was 1945.9 miles. I haven't cleaned out the car yet, which it desperately needs, especially after I picked up the Pringles can--& not the Pringles. It was upside down & the lid came off. I got most of them back in & devoured them later, but there are still crumbs.
A friend brought over some fried rice, which was welcomed. My suppersnack in Atkins was a can of Vienna sausages, cherry licorice nips, a Starbucks frappucino drink & orange blossom white tea. Probably not a common combination...
My fortune was fun. See the blog alternative, as I am planning to share it with you. You lucky people get a fortune without the nasty little cookie!
Blog alternative:
97. Tomorrow, focus on the color yellow for luck. (I don't know if it got me good luck today, but it is a very pleasant color to focus on.)
As lovely as the trip was, I am happy to be back. On Thursday Nick & I had Cheerios for breakfast--they get giant boxes of cereal to be thrifty--since neither of us was feeling ambitious. (Besides, Cheerios sounded good.) Wednesday night I took him & his roomies out for Mexican food. That's what parents do when they visit, if they're following the parental protocol handbook. I can't remember the last time I laughed so hard. Anyway, after breakfast Nick backed up my files on some stray space on one of his hard drives so I have up-to-date off-site archiving. & then I was off into the wild blue (actually more wild yellow & orange & red, given the leaf state) yonder. I drove through some little towns & such rather than getting on the interstate right away. Best business name, Furbank, a pet-grooming salon in a town called Burbank.
That reminds me of something I forgot to tell you. Best quote from the convention: "My great-uncle was eaten by cannibals."
Meanwhile, back at the car. It's a longish drive. I stopped in Atkins, Virgina, to fill up with gas & get something to eat. Checked the trip set & I had gone exactly 1800.0 miles for the trip. (Oh, & earlier I'd called & left a message for my dad as the car was turning over 110,000 miles. One of those special father-daughter bonding moments. We're both odometer geeks.)
The whole trip (made just a bit longer by my lost-ed-ness near the Cleveland Browns stadium) was 1945.9 miles. I haven't cleaned out the car yet, which it desperately needs, especially after I picked up the Pringles can--& not the Pringles. It was upside down & the lid came off. I got most of them back in & devoured them later, but there are still crumbs.
A friend brought over some fried rice, which was welcomed. My suppersnack in Atkins was a can of Vienna sausages, cherry licorice nips, a Starbucks frappucino drink & orange blossom white tea. Probably not a common combination...
My fortune was fun. See the blog alternative, as I am planning to share it with you. You lucky people get a fortune without the nasty little cookie!
Blog alternative:
97. Tomorrow, focus on the color yellow for luck. (I don't know if it got me good luck today, but it is a very pleasant color to focus on.)
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Pancake purist bogged down in Buffalo
Coffeeshopping in Oberlin Oh! I decided to purchase rather than windowshop. One latte & potato chips, lightly salted.
Much fun with Nick & his roomies. They are interesting individuals. I come away inspired every time I see them. Getting here was a trip, though. Left Syracuse after 2 pm, thinking to be in Oberlin in about 6 hours. Not.
Snow slowed things down between Syracuse & Buffalo. There wasn't a lot of it, but it's early in the season & people aren't used to it yet--& some people never get used to it. I think I was driving behind a couple of them for a while. It's one of those cases where it's hard to decide: do I pass, which involves moving through the slushy ruts with great care or follow someone who's going 20 miles an hour slower than I need to go & isn't confident anyway? I passed. Then Buffalo was stop & go & stop again all the way past. Then there was road construction. Then I got lost in Cleveland. (So far, on the list of places that make my heart sing, Buffalo & Cleveland aren't it.) Fortunately Bruce got home & got my message & google-mapped me through it. What a nice exhusband!
I didn't adopt a pet truck. One followed me for a while, as if auditioning for the job, but no. Then there was one that I was kinda sorta following, but its aesthetics weren't good & it wasn't a proper truck, but rather a rental truck pulling a car & it didn't have the steady & sure characteristics that I like in a pet truck. I might get one on the way home.
But, I finally arrived at Nick's abode. We sat up & visited & I drank tea & then slept well. He made us pancakes for breakfast: he can flip 2 at a time. Mostly. When he made little teeny ones with the last of the batter, he did not successfully flip 5 at a time. But the floor was clean. Grin.
He populates his pancakes with chocolate chips. I'm more of a pancake purist myself. Sometimes blueberries. I did put peanut butter on mine though.
Want to go somewhere cool? I know I'm anti-blogging girl, the new superhero, but check out
http://noonebelongsheremorethanyou.com/
I promise you won't regret it.
Did you go yet? (If so, don't you really want to write messages on your appliances?) (If not, why not?)
Blog alternative:
96. Draw & describe your ideal workspace/creativespace/livingspace. (They may indeed be the same space.)
Much fun with Nick & his roomies. They are interesting individuals. I come away inspired every time I see them. Getting here was a trip, though. Left Syracuse after 2 pm, thinking to be in Oberlin in about 6 hours. Not.
Snow slowed things down between Syracuse & Buffalo. There wasn't a lot of it, but it's early in the season & people aren't used to it yet--& some people never get used to it. I think I was driving behind a couple of them for a while. It's one of those cases where it's hard to decide: do I pass, which involves moving through the slushy ruts with great care or follow someone who's going 20 miles an hour slower than I need to go & isn't confident anyway? I passed. Then Buffalo was stop & go & stop again all the way past. Then there was road construction. Then I got lost in Cleveland. (So far, on the list of places that make my heart sing, Buffalo & Cleveland aren't it.) Fortunately Bruce got home & got my message & google-mapped me through it. What a nice exhusband!
I didn't adopt a pet truck. One followed me for a while, as if auditioning for the job, but no. Then there was one that I was kinda sorta following, but its aesthetics weren't good & it wasn't a proper truck, but rather a rental truck pulling a car & it didn't have the steady & sure characteristics that I like in a pet truck. I might get one on the way home.
But, I finally arrived at Nick's abode. We sat up & visited & I drank tea & then slept well. He made us pancakes for breakfast: he can flip 2 at a time. Mostly. When he made little teeny ones with the last of the batter, he did not successfully flip 5 at a time. But the floor was clean. Grin.
He populates his pancakes with chocolate chips. I'm more of a pancake purist myself. Sometimes blueberries. I did put peanut butter on mine though.
Want to go somewhere cool? I know I'm anti-blogging girl, the new superhero, but check out
http://noonebelongsheremorethanyou.com/
I promise you won't regret it.
Did you go yet? (If so, don't you really want to write messages on your appliances?) (If not, why not?)
Blog alternative:
96. Draw & describe your ideal workspace/creativespace/livingspace. (They may indeed be the same space.)
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Have a nice poop & other messages from the universe
So now I'm sitting in a coffee shop called Recess kinda near Bruce & Helen's, working on a novel. I went into the restroom & they have this cross-stitched sampler that says Have a Nice Poop. So I couldn't resist. Two posts in one day. Ah well, you might survive the shock.
Blog alternative:
95. Have a nice poop.
Blog alternative:
95. Have a nice poop.
My little pet truck, on its own in the big wide world
I'm sitting on a rocking chair, next to the big Russian bear on the floor in the corner. (Don't worry, he looks well-fed.) Bruce & Helen are IBMing & studying for boards, respectively. We had a lovely supper last night after I arrived from Saratoga Springs. (Or Sartog, as my friend Cathy, the Seattlite, ex-New Yorker puts it.) (Actually, I'm not sure people actually become EX New Yorkers.) Visited. Walked to a coffee shop in a little rain.
This morning we had crepes & steel cut oatmeal. Delish.
Okay, so I want this to be more than a food report, so I will talk about trucks. I had a pet truck for a while last Thursday. Shiny & swift & unswervable, the kind of truck you can pass without worrying that it's going to creep into--or even toward--your lane. We leapfrogged a little. Sometimes I would lead the truck & sometimes I would let it forge on ahead, as long as it stayed within sight. Then there was traffic congestion & I was afraid I was going to lose my little truck (little is a term of endearment, rather than a descriptor) but I did not. With a bit of judicious passing, I was able to reconnect & we traveled happily together for some miles.
Yet, I know the way of pet trucks. One must not hold too tightly. One must allow them to find their own paths, or, better yet, their own highways. (Trucks are hell on paths.) I don't remember when it actually split off from my route, but I remember the little catch in my throat as it signaled--it always signaled!--& smoothly merged onto another road. Goodbye, my friend, I murmured. Safe travels. & then it was gone.
All that day I drove alone. Oh, there were other cars & trucks on the highway, but none of them were with me, if you know what I mean. It's not just any truck that can be a pet truck. Perhaps I will have another on this trip, perhaps not. But at least I have the memories....
Bruce & Helen & I are going to do our morning tasks & then go look around Syracuse a little. Helen works at the hospital here (she's an epileptologist). They've got a lovely apartment, filled with light. Nice hardwood floors. A couple sometimes barky chi-hooah-hooahs (that's how they're pronouncing it for fun) downstairs. Later today or tomorrow I'm going to go see Nick.
Blog alternative:
94. The next time you're driving, keep your eyes open for a pet truck. Hang with it for a while. Even name it if you want. Then, let it go on its way.
This morning we had crepes & steel cut oatmeal. Delish.
Okay, so I want this to be more than a food report, so I will talk about trucks. I had a pet truck for a while last Thursday. Shiny & swift & unswervable, the kind of truck you can pass without worrying that it's going to creep into--or even toward--your lane. We leapfrogged a little. Sometimes I would lead the truck & sometimes I would let it forge on ahead, as long as it stayed within sight. Then there was traffic congestion & I was afraid I was going to lose my little truck (little is a term of endearment, rather than a descriptor) but I did not. With a bit of judicious passing, I was able to reconnect & we traveled happily together for some miles.
Yet, I know the way of pet trucks. One must not hold too tightly. One must allow them to find their own paths, or, better yet, their own highways. (Trucks are hell on paths.) I don't remember when it actually split off from my route, but I remember the little catch in my throat as it signaled--it always signaled!--& smoothly merged onto another road. Goodbye, my friend, I murmured. Safe travels. & then it was gone.
All that day I drove alone. Oh, there were other cars & trucks on the highway, but none of them were with me, if you know what I mean. It's not just any truck that can be a pet truck. Perhaps I will have another on this trip, perhaps not. But at least I have the memories....
Bruce & Helen & I are going to do our morning tasks & then go look around Syracuse a little. Helen works at the hospital here (she's an epileptologist). They've got a lovely apartment, filled with light. Nice hardwood floors. A couple sometimes barky chi-hooah-hooahs (that's how they're pronouncing it for fun) downstairs. Later today or tomorrow I'm going to go see Nick.
Blog alternative:
94. The next time you're driving, keep your eyes open for a pet truck. Hang with it for a while. Even name it if you want. Then, let it go on its way.
Saturday, November 3, 2007
The eighth state of mind
On Thursday, I was in 4 different states in my first hour of travel: Virginia, West Virginia, Maryland & Pennsylvania. By the end of the day, I'd added New Jersey & New York. For a Montana girl, that just seems crazy--Montana alone is a good day's drive & all the states around it are pretty decent-sized, unless you cross over that bit of Idaho. So, 6 states in a day--& if I'd started earlier & wanted to drive longer I could have done the whole trip in a day, which would have added North Carolina & Tennessee to the mix--is pretty amazing. You have to be doing a heck of a lot of driving to get 6 or 8 states, where I come from. Or, where I came from. Right now I'm very happy coming from North Carolina!
I stopped in Bethel for car snacks--to my leftovers I added green apple white tea Snapple & a Reeses peanut butter cup. I'm noticing a trend on this trip: white tea & junk food.
Saratoga Springs is a great town. Vibrant downtown with lots of shops (one said "office supplies & hats" which certainly attracted me. I bought a little suede beret.) & tons of restaurants. I just got back from a crepe restaurant with my roomies & a couple other friends.
WFC is a great con, although this one has an inadequate bar. That's really the best place for the editors & agents & writers & artists to do business. I did talk to Jane Yolen & she steered me to a new agent, so that may be in the works. Also, one novel is confirmedly in the hands of another editor & another editor is expected to be heard from in a couple of weeks (alas, work avalanched her & she couldn't tell me by this weekend, but that's okay) & Suzuki England has indeed flown over the airwaves into yet a third editor's camp. Plus a friend of mine who's a great book doctor gave me great insight on another novel, The Song of Lizzie Whispers, which makes me excited to take another crack at that. It shall be interesting.
So many great people here--& I got a call from an uncle from Billings, Montana, who is going to be in Charlotte of a week while I'm in New York & Ohio. I might be back in time to catch him. Hope so!
So now I've swummed in the pool & been locked in the vault at a crazily-configured (it just goes on & on--you could set 3 fantasies & a mystery or 2 in it & still have room for a romance) bookstore. The wi-fi is driving me a little batty, flipping in & out, so I'll deblog for now. Besides, I have to get ready to do my reading. I'm going to tell people to go next door to hear Catherynne Valente if they haven't yet! (She's one of the people we gave the Tiptree Award to.)
Blog alternative:
93. Wrap something in something & eat it. I'm thinking lefsa or crepes or tortillas, although you could use a lettuce or cabbage leaf.
I stopped in Bethel for car snacks--to my leftovers I added green apple white tea Snapple & a Reeses peanut butter cup. I'm noticing a trend on this trip: white tea & junk food.
Saratoga Springs is a great town. Vibrant downtown with lots of shops (one said "office supplies & hats" which certainly attracted me. I bought a little suede beret.) & tons of restaurants. I just got back from a crepe restaurant with my roomies & a couple other friends.
WFC is a great con, although this one has an inadequate bar. That's really the best place for the editors & agents & writers & artists to do business. I did talk to Jane Yolen & she steered me to a new agent, so that may be in the works. Also, one novel is confirmedly in the hands of another editor & another editor is expected to be heard from in a couple of weeks (alas, work avalanched her & she couldn't tell me by this weekend, but that's okay) & Suzuki England has indeed flown over the airwaves into yet a third editor's camp. Plus a friend of mine who's a great book doctor gave me great insight on another novel, The Song of Lizzie Whispers, which makes me excited to take another crack at that. It shall be interesting.
So many great people here--& I got a call from an uncle from Billings, Montana, who is going to be in Charlotte of a week while I'm in New York & Ohio. I might be back in time to catch him. Hope so!
So now I've swummed in the pool & been locked in the vault at a crazily-configured (it just goes on & on--you could set 3 fantasies & a mystery or 2 in it & still have room for a romance) bookstore. The wi-fi is driving me a little batty, flipping in & out, so I'll deblog for now. Besides, I have to get ready to do my reading. I'm going to tell people to go next door to hear Catherynne Valente if they haven't yet! (She's one of the people we gave the Tiptree Award to.)
Blog alternative:
93. Wrap something in something & eat it. I'm thinking lefsa or crepes or tortillas, although you could use a lettuce or cabbage leaf.
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