My first Ad Astra is over, and I didn’t completely embarrass myself. Huzzah!

I’ll admit to being intimidated at first, not knowing anyone. It’s a good-sized local convention with a lot of history and people know already each other. What I finally realized, though, is that I just needed to politely join in the conversation. Everyone was welcoming and, even better, assumed I was Canadian. I swear, I am in all but name.

I saw there was a writing contest — 250 words based on a handful of prompts — and I pounced on that. It let me meet a nice group of writers and editors that I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to interact with at that level otherwise. I wrote the story Friday night (longhand first, then transcribed and edited), printed it out Saturday, and we received the results on Sunday. As these things happen, as I was sitting in the room waiting to talk to one of the judges, I had a breakthrough regarding flash that was soon confirmed by more than one of the judges. Flash fiction is like a single breath of air, and I’d forced the reader to stop and gulp in the middle of it.

Harry Turtledove was one of the Guests of Honor. I sat in one of his panels, on creating viable cultures in world-building. Fascinating stuff. It evolved into conversation about historical research and alternate history between him and Ed Greenwood, which was awesome and worth the price of admission alone. My two favorite quotes:

“That feeling of depth, that the world keeps going when the author stops looking.” Harry Turtledove, talking about Lord of the Rings

“The harder you make your reader work, the smaller your audience.” Ed Greenwood

It’s always great to meet people I’ve only known online. After a previous near-miss, I finally got to spend a few minutes chatting with Shay Darrach. I also got to spend some time with Gabrielle Harbowy, who I met through a mutual friend. That lead me to the launch party for Dragon Moon Press, which was a blast. Debut author Leah Petersen read from her novel and did a fabulous job, as did Marie Bilodeau.

Sunday, I went to a panel on ‘Revising and The Pitch’. At least, I thought it was a panel but it was really an interactive two-hour workshop led by Julie Czerneda and it was awesome. In groups of three, we were given prompts and created — and then revised — a pitch for a story. Again, some good quotes came out of the panel, these regarding revision:

“As perfect as time permits.”

“You have to learn to write to deadline; you may as well start by giving yourself one.” Julie Czerneda

Conventions have always left me with renewed spirits. Now, as I’m gearing up to finish this novel, I feel like I have even more clarity. Not necessarily about the writing itself, but about in believing it can be done. It’s easy to escape into short stories, because I’ve written those, had those published. They’re my safe place. A novel is a big, scary thing. That unknown feels less scary and more manageable right now, though, and that makes me very happy.

[Crossposted from Adam Israel. If you'd like to comment, you can do so either here or there.]

I’ve survived day two of walking myself into a non-round shape. It’s not an easy task. Fibromyalgia, my version of it, includes bouts of fatigue. I tried doing something as simple as lunges as part of my friend Sandra’s virtual bootcamp; twenty minutes of that put me into a fatigue crash that had me sleeping 36 out of the next 48 hours and, frankly, weeks of depression just thinking about that failure.

Exercise can induce/worsen Fibromyalgia symptoms but exercise also ease symptoms. It’s a bit of a catch-22, frankly. The other benefits of getting my fat ass in motion is improving my quality of life, extending my lifespan, curtailing my type-2 diabetes and all sorts of other things.

I’m taking small steps to start. Walking, and gradually — very gradually — working my way up. Two days, five miles. An hour a day, in the late afternoon when I’m most tempted to take a nap. Ultimately, this is a lifestyle change and radical changes are less likely to stick. For me, at least.

Walking is good. It’s a solitary thing for me and it always puts me in a good headspace. Today, for example, I worked out how to fix some problems in a story I want to revise and submit soon. Then I spent the rest of the time listening to what may be the most awesome walking/running song ever created on repeat: The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner by Iron Maiden.

Settling into a proper schedule between writing, working, and exercise is really doing good things. I’m already feeling more energetic and I’ve written more words this week than the whole month combined.

[Crossposted from Adam Israel. If you'd like to comment, you can do so either here or there.]

It’s a funny thing. When I wrote tech news and my Linux column, I felt pretty confident about what I was doing. I could debate policy and technology without hesitation. I’ve been on panels, given demonstrations and was, frankly, highly opinionated and usually right.

It’s different when it comes to fiction, though. I’ve made sales and gone to Clarion. I’m comfortable with what I do and don’t know but I don’t usually feel like I’m speaking with authority. Oddly, when I first started out I could sit and write a couple thousand words in a sitting. Now, I am more methodical, carefully choosing my words and writing much, much slower. The results are much better but there are times I wish I could reclaim some of that speed.

I’ve heard, on a few occasions, that it takes a year or so to fully recover or internalize the lessons of Clarion. Maybe I’m still in that phase and on the other side I’ll gain some newfound confidence in my work that will allow me to stop second-guessing myself. I’m happy with the end result of my work. I believe it’s of professional quality even if I haven’t made that first pro sale yet. I should be happy with what I have but I guess I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t push myself to the next level.

[Crossposted from Adam Israel. If you'd like to comment, you can do so either here or there.]

Andrea’s gift of striking up a conversation led to the discovery that tonight was the open house for the local brand of the Royal Astronomy Society of Canada. I’ve been a space nerd since the moment I saw Star Trek in theatre in the 1979. Joining the club seemed like a no-brainer and I’d researched it, before my border crossing nightmare last year and had slipped my mind since returning last November.

I’m a bad space nerd. I mean, I had some idea of what to expect but this is rural southwest Ontario. I was pleased to find a very busy clearing less than 10 minutes drive away. Several freestanding telescopes were setup for everyone’s use as well as a 10×20′ building with attached observatory, surrounded by a 14×30′ observing deck.

I, being unprepared for nature, was eaten alive by a metric fuckton (yes, that’s a scientific term; I looked it up) of mosquitos. They kind of ignored me after my arms and face were slathered with bug guts, and very likely some of my own blood.

I can be a little introverted, but I made my way around and met a few folks while peeping through the keyhole. The quarter moon obscured the viewing a little bit, although looking at its surface magnified, especially the detail along the terminator line, was magnificent. The dome of the observatory is motorized and whizzed and whirred, and I saw Saturn and its rings. The image was tiny, white and slightly blurred but clearly identifiable. Outside, I saw four satellites passing overhead and a shooting star. Marvelous, really.

I ended up being the last non-club member there, mostly listening to the conversation. I got a nice little primer on astrophotography, something I’ve been interested in for a while, and some pointers on what would make a good first telescope to buy.

I can see this having the potential of being an expensive hobby, but joining the club includes access to the observatory and a few other telescopes. The grounds are open year-round and only a few minutes from where Andrea works. On nights that I take her to work, I can get my writing in and swing by for some stargazing or make a night out of it and do some photography.

There’s also a camaraderie, sitting in the dark and talking about the shared wonder of the space. I do think I’ll be back, often.

[Crossposted from Adam Israel. If you'd like to comment, you can do so either here or there.]

 I’m pleased to announce the sale of a flash fiction story, “History of the Flesh”, to volume 2 of The Crimson Pact anthology.

My story of a psychometrist turned sineater started almost two and a half years ago, during the Codex Weekend Warrior contest. For five consecutive weekends, we write a flash fiction inspired by one of three posted prompts and post it by the wee hours of Monday morning. The prompt I chose was:

Imagine someone had an extra sense to perceive the physical world. How would it work and what would s/he do with it? Write a story about it.

I’d had the idea for a character who saw the history of things that he touched (and the personal toll such an ability would bring) in mind for a while and I’ve long been fascinated with things like sineaters. The story, from the same world as my novel-in-progress, snowballed from there.

The anthology will be available in August and will include stories by many other fine writers that I’m excited to share a Table of Contents with (details forthcoming).

[Crossposted from Adam Israel. If you'd like to comment, you can do so either here or there.]

I’ve owned one electric razor in my life. It didn’t do a great job of shaving my face and cleaning it out was a pain in the ass. I’ve been using a disposable instead (one of those three-razor things) but replacement blades are expensive and the entire process annoys me. I’m wondering if that electric razor I tried before just wasn’t that good? So, to try out this nifty polling plugin, a question! What do you use to shave? If there’s a particular brand you prefer, I’d appreciate a comment about what and why. It’s for a good cause; I’m tired of looking a teenage boy trying to grow a beard.

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[Crossposted from Adam Israel. If you'd like to comment, you can do so either here or there.]

Two things make this upcoming Monday special: it marks the beginning of the Clarion (San Diego) Write-a-thon, and my one year anniversary of attending the Clarion Workshop. Clarion was a significant event in my life. One way I can give back is by participating in the write-a-thon and raising money to help the program that helped me.

For six weeks, we learned to write better (but still shitty!) first drafts. I wrote three new stories at Clarion, and revised two previously written ones. I think it only appropriate that, for my inaugural write-a-thon, I rewrite and/or revise those stories.

• “Longwalkers”
• “A Murder of Crows”
• “Control”, was “I Love You, Good Bye, I’ll See You Soon” *
• “Recycled Dreams”
• “Cradle of Hope”
• One or two additional stories TBD

Everyone who donates, if they so choose, will receive a postcard with story bits, doodles, or whatever I feel like adding to it.

Your name will also be listed in the acknowledgements of a limited edition ebook (see below).

$10

For ten dollars or more, you’ll receive the above, plus a limited edition ebook containing:

• My application essay
• My application stories
• The handwritten, first and revised versions of my Clarion stories
• A one year retrospective, post-Clarion
• Extra bonus material

$25

Anyone who pledges $25 or more will receive, in addition to the ebook, tuckerization in a future story.

$50

For $50 or more, donors will receive the ebook, tuckerization, and I will give you a detailed critique of a story, up to 7,500 words.

$100

If you are able to donate $100 or more dollars, you’ll receive all of the above, my never-ending gratitude, and I will write a story based on prompts that you provide.

Not only am I dedicating the next six weeks to raising money for Clarion, I will also put matching funds towards a scholarship for a 2012 Clarion student of my choosing. Please visit my write-a-thon page to make your pledge and drop a note here to let me know where to send your postcard. I’ll be in touch for any other details for your reward.

* Already rewritten and in circulation, but you’ll still get both versions

[Crossposted from Adam Israel. If you'd like to comment, you can do so either here or there.]

We reached two long-awaited milestones in our household this week.

The last maintenance payment to my ex-wife, month 30 of 30, was mailed off. This represented a sizable portion of my income. It’s been a wild, dramatic ride that is now officially over. No more living in fear that I’m going to get a call from my lawyer and have to shuttle back to Illinois on short notice for an ‘emergency’ hearing or stressing out about what I say on the Internet because it will (and it did) find it’s way back to my ex and used against me in wildly out-of-context ways. I’m free. We’re free. We’ve had our lives on hold in many ways and this is the first big step towards getting that back.

I’m sad for what’s lost; a friendship that spanned more than a decade is lost. I’d have liked to remained friendly, as I have with my first ex. We could have been, eventually, but in the end that’s not my choice to make. I wish her well and so I move on.

I suspect the finality it’ll take some getting used to. As some dear friends have noticed, this has been a very challenging time, personally. I tend to be very open in my thoughts and feelings and whatnot, and having to self-censor has been damaging. I’ve come to know a distrust, paranoia and anger towards people that I am not proud of. Short-term issues, I am sure, that I will work through.

The other milestone is perhaps more exciting, in a forward-thinking view. When I went bankrupt last year, I gave up my car. To me, a car isn’t just a mode of transportation —- it’s freedom. I like to drive; a bug I inherited from my father, I think. I like to drive in a random direction and explore. To quote Amanda Palmer, “I have to drive.” I navigate by sun and star, fearlessly, and always find my way home again. Between Clarion and working in Santa Monica last year, losing the car, and coming home to Ontario, my driving has been limited. We share a car with Andrea’s mom and brother, and that poor clunker is held together, almost literally, with bale and spit and hope.

We’ve been planning to get a car for a little while. We have some travel coming up this summer, including a trip back to Chicago, and renting a car is less than ideal. Today, we put a deposit down on a nice used car, a 2007 Ford Fusion with only 18,500 miles. Monday, the adventure begins.

There’s so much to see, living in a new country. I’ve only been to Toronto a few times and now we’ll be able to drive there on a whim. We can make a jaunt to Niagara Falls and see my friend that works in the Vineyards. We can drive to Quebec and see the Hotel de Glace, or drive across Canada. We can go anywhere the roads lead, and some places it won’t.

Vroom vroom.

[Crossposted from Adam Israel. If you'd like to comment, you can do so either here or there.]

I was reading Ferret’s blog this morning, as I often do, and I saw a familiar name mentioned: Amy Sundberg. I’ve realized over the last year that I have much in common with Amy, who I had the pleasure to meet at World Fantasy last year. Her posts on Ambiversion and the awesomeness of being an introvert kind of clued me in but her latest one about being less wishy-washy really hits home.

The estimable Ferrett shared a link on his post on how to get comments. There is much good advice to be had in this essay and the one about blogging that precedes it, but there was one sentence that particularly stood out for me. Ferrett says, “If you’re a conciliatory person by nature, writing a pleasant essay that excuses whatever it is that bugs you with a “But I guess that’s how people are” will not get comments either, because you’ll be so wishy-washy that nobody will be able to disagree with you.”

That describes me to a fault. In person, around people I trust, I feel free to rant or evangelize about things I feel strongly about but when I get online something inside of me wilts. The way I feel about certain things doesn’t change based on who I hang out with but stick me in a group, even one I’m fairly comfortable with, and I shut down; I sprout pedals and cling to the nearest wall. I even find it hard to break into a conversation I’m already included in.

That behavior has, more or less, carried over here. I abandon posts half-written because I worry about offending people, or I read someone else’s thoughts on the subject and convince myself that adding my voice would just muddy the waters. It’s maddening. I want to be liked (or, not disliked) and to post alternative viewpoints may offend someone.

It does strike me — a tiny voice of reason inside my head — that the person who would be offended by the reasoned but differing opinion probably isn’t the kind of person I who’s approval I would want in the first place.

Consider me a backer and participant in Amy’s Backbone Project. I’m going to speak my mind here; to avoid wishy-washy but still take into consideration alternate viewpoints and discussion, because that’s what I’d like this to be: a platform to discuss topics that I’m passionate about. I will not troll to get a response from people because that’s just plain wrong but I will, secretly, hope to spark discussion.

Now, I’m going to go clean up my RSS reader, because it would have been a damn shame to miss Amy’s post and I probably would have, or would have seen it after the fact, if not for Ferret’s mention on LiveJournal.

[Crossposted from Adam Israel. If you'd like to comment, you can do so either here or there.]

Diversity is something often on my mind. I’ve been thrilled to see translated Science Fiction becoming available in bookstores recently. It’s easy to forget that we — the white, english speakers of the world — aren’t the only ones with fantastic imaginations.

My Clarion instructors Jeff and Ann VanderMeer have an almost encyclopedia-like knowledge of foreign fiction. They recently spent some time in Finland, meeting with many of the Finnish SF/F community.

Finnish Science Fiction and Fantasy: Johanna Sinisalo, Hannu Rajaniemi, and Moomins

Finnish SF and Fantasy: An Established Community, a Surge of Talent

Finnish Weird–and Finnish SF/F Links Round-Up

It grows ever obvious that we are becoming a global community. I sincerely hope that we see more and more international fiction translated for a wider audience (that, or the discovery of the babel fish) so that everyone can enjoy these talented authors.

[Crossposted from Adam Israel. If you'd like to comment, you can do so either here or there.]