Scarlett Letters

1) I am out of the habit of going to the office. I need to get back into that habit. Working at home is not good for me. It isolates me. I get less done.

2) Went to see Jason Heller read from his book STRANGE STARS last night at Third Place Books. Heller was quite compelling in his discussion of the 1970s, Bowie, science fiction and its influence on pop music. Really looking forward to reading the book. (God, he was so young! The 1970s must be to him what the 1950s were to me as I grew up--this distant time filled with cool music and a way different kind of life. I feel old.)

3) I still haven't seen "Solo: A Star Wars Story." I feel like I need to turn in my nerd cred card.

4) I want to travel internationally. I'm getting itchy feet. I need to get out of my rut.

5) Just finished reading THE BOTANY OF DESIRE by Michael Pollan, about how human desire shapes and is shaped by plants. Excellent read, well-written, not as much of a science book as our book club thought it was be, but well worth the time. I'm now reading DEAD AS A DOORNAIL by Charlaine Harris, the fifth Sookie Stackhouse novel (of the series upon which "True Blood" was based). It's popcorn fiction--breezy, fun, brainless, a nice palette cleanser. Unsure what I'm going to read next--half my household consists of my to-be-read pile.

1) Here in Seattle this morning, it is, in fact, raining like the Biblical flood is coming. Here's the thing: Seattle rain isn't usually torrential. Usually, it's mist or drizzle that just lasts and lasts. Actual, umbrella-requiring rain happens rarely here. Our volume comes from duration, not saturation. So to wake up to the sound of hard rain on the roof (and the balcony, and the pavement in the courtyard) is unusual. I am not looking forward to braving the storm to get to work.

2) Zeke has been super-needy lately. I have to play with him all the time. I wake up to him snuggling and kneading me, which then requires petting and scritching until he settles down to sleep. It's made it hard to give cuddle- and playtime to Sophie. I dislike his monopolizing my time. He's gotten very possessive and I have no idea why or what's going on. I want some time with my girl and need to figure out a way to get it.

3) Next week is the final measure for the bathroom renovation. It means that work will start within 2-3 weeks. I'm excited about this; it's been a long time coming and when it's done, I'll have a lovely new bathroom--with real tile and everything. Right now, that bathroom has linoleum and one of those one-piece shower-stall insets. And the shower surround is safety glass, with visible wire running through the panes. It's not ugly per se, but no one could call it pretty. It will be more attractive when it's done, and far more usable overall, I think.

4) I am reading Marie Brennan's Voyage of the Basilisk, the third volume in her Memoirs of Lady Trent series, and enjoying it quite a bit. I like her dragonologist and her rich world descriptions. It's a fast read and an engaging one.

5) Passages: The news of editor David Hartwell's death has spread like wildfire through the science fiction and fantasy community. Though I didn't know him well, and had mixed feelings about our few encounters, there's no question he was a major influence in the field and leaves behind him a legacy of novelists and editors whose careers were made or changed as a result of his work. Respect.

I had all these ambitions, after WorldCon, to write a complete trip report, to write about the possible crime I was a witness to (about which I may still write) and to write here more frequently in general. Instead, what's happened is that I haven't finished my trip report and I haven't written anything since then, even though I continue to read LJ every day faithfully. :: sigh :: Best intentions and all that. So, in lieu of all the stuff I haven't written about, I want to make some brief observations, and then I need to get started with my day.

1) The Congressional vote to defund Planned Parenthood, while unlikely to get past the Senate, is one more demonstration that the Republican party isn't about conservatism. It's about control--controlling anyone and anything they feel is a threat. In this case, it's women and lower-income people. The insecurity it betrays would be laughable if it weren't so sinister and driven by so much money.

2) My desk is clean and usable for the first time in a couple of years. I'm using it at we speak. Keep an eye out for winged pigs flinging themselves skyward.

3) The new season of Doctor Who has begun on BBCA. I watched the premier and, though I liked Peter Capaldi's portrayal, I was less than impressed with the episode as a whole. The channel ran a Doctor Who marathon yesterday including a couple of episodes that are particular favorites of mine. I miss Tennant as the Doctor, and I adore the episode "Vincent and the Doctor."

4) I have read a number of books since the last time I wrote about reading at all, including
--"The Philosopher Kings" by Jo Walton (papersky, which I enjoyed more than "The Just City," the first book in what is apparently a duology. "Philosopher Kings" moved at a quicker pace than its prequel, exploring the wider world in which her characters live, but it had its difficult-to-read moments. I had less of a sense of the project being a thought experiment than I did the first. I was more involved overall. Walton's asked some interesting questions in these books and they bear thought. They are not my favorite of her work, but they were worth reading and considering
--"The Goblin Emperor" by Katherine Addison (Sarah Monette) which, while I enjoyed it, I was kind of baffled by in that while it's certainly set in a fantasy world with fantasy races at its center, it's really just an engaging court intrigue novel. The plot did not turn on any of the fantastic elements. It might have easily been told about a human court and nothing would have been lost. Rather disappointed by that. It did not get my first vote in the Best Hugo category this year.
--"The Ghost Brigades" and "The Last Colony" by John Scalzi, both set in his "Old Man's War" universe, both excellent fun and enjoyable space opera. I've said it before and I'll say it again: if the Sad Puppies didn't dislike him so much, they'd enjoy the hell out of his work.

5) Autumn is a beautiful season, but it is proving a tough one this year. And I'm so not ready for winter.

6) I'm currently reading "The Bone Clocks" by David Mitchell (author of "Cloud Atlas"). It's delicious reading, brilliantly literary and yet clearly in-genre fantasy. I was about to write a whole separate post ranting about why no one is paying attention to David Mitchell as a writer of fantastic fiction and what an injustice it is. Before I got halfway through my screed, I went to check this year's World Fantasy Award nominees. And there's Mitchell, nominated for "The Bone Clocks" for best novel. OK, then.

SIFF films
Saturday morning: The Primary Instinct had its world premier at SIFF. It's actor Stephen Tobolowsky's concert film. Tobolowsky--whom you may know as Ned Ryerson in "Groundhog Day" or Sandy Ryerson (distant cousin?) in "Glee" or any one of a number of character roles--is a terrific storyteller, and this movie is a record of a show he did in Seattle last year, telling the stories that have made his podcast "The Tobolowsky Files" (which I highly recommend) so popular. This guy tells a story like nobody's business. He's engaging and insightful. The monologue he offers here has, at its core, the question of what we seek as human beings--what's our primary instinct, but he starts by asking the question "What is a story?" It's great question for an actor or a writer--or a human. And he riffs on it from there, telling story after story to get to his main point, offering thoughtful commentary and laughter along the way. This was a terrific hour-and-a-half, and the Q&A with Tobolowsky and David Chen, the film's director, afterward was very good indeed. I recommend both the movie and the podcast. Possibly my best experience of the festival so far.

Sunday afteroon: I thought, for some reason, that Paper Planes was a documentary, not a fiction movie. Turns out it was the latter, an Australian film for families about a boy who enters an international paper plane folding contest. It was actually quite a sweet thing--not what I was expecting but, as the description on the SIFF site says, a crowd pleaser and a pleasant first film of two for the day.

Later Sunday afternoon: Admission: I don't really read The New Yorker; I read it occasionally, in bits and pieces. But I always look at the cartoons. So when I saw that Very Semi-Serious, a documentary about The New Yorker, its cartoon editor and its cartoonists, was going to be at SIFF, I didn't have to think twice. Turns out that it's not a documentary so much as an examination of the art of the single-panel comic, with thoughts and insights provided by David Mankoff, the editor, and many of the artists who contribute. Fun, thoughtful stuff, lots of New York images and the kind of humor that has always appealed to me. I found myself thinking about the New York Times documentary, Page One, that ran at SIFF back in 2011. Though they are very different films in focus and sensibility, yet they share that ineffable New York-ness that makes them both of a piece in some way. Good movie, well worth seeing.

Books
Finished reading Mary Robinette Kowal's "Of Noble Family" this weekend--one gets a lot of reading done waiting in line at SIFF. The fifth and final book in her Glamourist Histories series, it takes our heroine Jane and her husband Vincent to Antigua to get Vincent's late father's estate in order. They are not prepared for what they encounter--which includes a legacy of slavery, the fallout of abuse, and Jane's welcome but awkwardly-timed pregnancy. It is by far the darkest of the books in the series, but it nevertheless still brings some of the fun and interest that Mary always brings to her storytelling. I found it a satisfying conclusion to the cycle and enjoyed it quite a bit.

Started reading "Old Man's War" by John Scalzi. Breezy and fairly lightweight, as Scalzi's work tends to be, it's science fiction of the Old Skool: colonial armed forces off to make the universe a safer place for humanity--but with a twist. As ever, Scalzi's narrative voice is strong and appealing, and I'm enjoying the reading. While I understand that the Sad/Rabid Puppy crowd dislike Scalzi for his politics, I don't think they understand what they're missing by not reading his fiction. It's exactly the sort of thing they claim to prefer. But I think there's as much professional jealousy in their expressed hatred--especially given his new book deal--as there is political difference. Their loss. Scalzi's work is fast and fun, and I'm enjoying this one.

This memoir was written by Elizabeth Keckley, a woman who purchased freedom for herself and her son before the Civil War, and who went on to become modiste and confidante to Mary Todd Lincoln. Over the last several years I've done quite a bit of reading about the Lincolns and am now working on a story about Mary that includes a scene or two with Elizabeth, so reading this autobiography seemed like a natural move.

As it turns out, it was a bonanza, because Elizabeth Keckley is one of the primary sources on Mary Todd Lincoln. Her memoir includes conversations recorded nearly word for word with her employer. It includes transcriptions of correspondence between them. And it includes Elizabeth's own observations about Mary's character, her habits and her manner. What a brilliant tool for capturing voice and perspective!

It's also--and just as importantly--a fascinating account of Elizabeth's own life, her experiences as a slave and then as an independent business woman in Washington D.C. before, during and after the Civil War. She was acquainted with some of the major abolisionists of the time including Frederick Douglass, who is mentioned several times. Some of her story bears the hallmarks of the classic slave narrative of the period, though Elizabeth's is more a tale of progress. Some of it is harrowing, some of it is perfectly mundane--the troubles of being seamstress to a temperamental and demanding client, the stress of a bad marriage, and so on. She writes vividly and candidly; she's excellent company for a couple of evenings' worth of reading.

I read this memoir first and foremost as research for the project I'm working on, but it's well worth reading in its own right. Keckley's account of the night that President Lincoln was shot is remarkable in its relation of the confusion and grief that held sway over the city. Her own emotions and observations about his death are familiar; one can't help feeling empathy.

It's amazing stuff, and makes history feel so close. It wasn't that long ago, only thirty years before my great grandparents came to the US. And it made me wish I could sit down and talk with her. She was an impressive lady indeed.

There's been reading and movie going lately. Here's what's up with that.

Our Lady of the Islands by Shannon Page and Jay Lake (that would be calendula_witch and jaylake) took me a long time to read. This is an observation, not a criticism, and partly the result of how busy and distracted I've been since the beginning of the year. Under ordinary circumstances, even given that the book is of a substantial length, I would have read it in the space of, oh, a couple of weeks, I think. That's because the narrative voice is smart and accessible.

Set in the archipelago city of Alizar, a place mentioned in Jay's previous works, it follows Sian Katte, a business woman of a certain age, and what happens when she is first beaten senseless in the street and then awakens to find herself with the power to heal anyone she touches, both physically and spiritually. Given that Alizar has political problems of major proportion as well as an heir who is languishing of a sickness that no one is able to cure, her gift comes at a key time. But for Sian, getting to that heir proves a major challenge. Reading this book was an interesting experience for me, knowing the authors, knowing their history, knowing their individual writings styles pretty well. Hearing Jay's voice so clearly in that first chapter was disconcerting to me as a personal matter; there he was, on the page, with his perspective and distinctive eye for detail--and then there was Shannon, with her emphasis on character and other kinds of details. Mostly what I enjoyed was reading a book about women who already knew their places in the world, had experiences that had shaped who they were, and were able to call all those skills into play when events took turns they weren't prepared for. So refreshing after years of reading male coming-of-age stories in the genre. I also liked this vision of a different kind of fantasy world--it's not your typical medieval high fantasy setting, but rather a tropical paradise with a strong nautical culture and a mysterious religious cult upending the status quo. There's a lot to like here: a delicious new world, smart, capable protagonists, and an adventure that transforms not just the people at its center, but the world as a whole.

I started reading Little Men by Louisa May Alcott within a week of finishing Our Lady. Given that Little Women is a comfort book for me, I've always wanted to read the sequel. I don't know if it was because of the juxtaposition against Our Lady or because I'm beyond a point in my life when this sort of thing would be appealing, but 60 pages in, I found it too sticky sweet and the characters far too perfect to be able to spend much time with them. It's a shame because the stories are post-Civil War era and I wanted detail and flavor of the era as a reference for something I'm working on, but I put it down within days of picking it up.

The Second Best Exotic Marigold Hotel is a lovely little movie. Like its prequel, it is sweet (in a good way), funny, and beautifully acted by a cast of veteran actors so wonderful to watch that I didn't care just how predictable the plot really was. It's by the numbers the whole way--an engaged couple whose engagement puts the relationship on the rocks, the young hotelier paranoid about business prospects. The only thing that was surprising to me is how, for a film that offers you more-or-less what you expect, producing a comforting kind of enjoyment, it was able to maintain that same perspective as the first film--that age doesn't change the experience of human relationships. We are such a culture of youth; it's refeshing--there's that word again--to see older people still struggling as younger people do, with the quest for love or the hard work of being honest with one another--because they do, and it's important that we as a culture recognize that.

Mr. Turner is Mike Leigh's interpretation of the second half of the artist JMW Turner's life. Timothy Spall plays Turner, and his performance is a masterwork of character and nuance. The cinematography is breathtaking, so many shots looking like they came right off of Turner's canvasses. I remember noticing, in particular, how the life all around Turner went on with its own little dramas: an unhappy couple on the deck of a ship, the expressions of a crowd listening to a singer at a party, the manner of the painters at the Academy gallery, women on the streets around Turner's homes. That's the hand of the director and it made it all so much richer. I enjoyed the film very much and recommend it.

A lot of interesting stuff has been popping up on my LiveJournal and Facebook feeds lately, so I've decided to aggregate them here for my reference and yours if you are so interested.

I don't know how many of you follow the delightful and thoughtful jimhines but if you don't, you might want to consider it. He's been running a guest blog series on representation in science fiction and fantasy, and some of the latest essays have hit pretty close to home. Links are included below.

Nancy Jane Moore's essay "No More Dried Up Spinsters" gets into the issue of representation of older, unmarried women in SF and fantasy. What's missing, she says, is vibrant, independent women of a certain age who don't need a man to be complete and who aren't done living by a long stretch. (As one of those women, I'm here to say "I feel ya, Nancy Jane.") It's an excellent essay, well worth reading.

She notes, about halfway through her essay that "Catherine Lundoff has put together a great list of older women characters in SF/F, which she’s updating regularly. But to get a good list, she has defined 'older' as women 40 and above." I have made a point to mention, in the comments, Sian Katte and Arian, Factora-Consort of Alizar, from calendula_witch (Shannon Page) and jaylake's novel Our Lady of the Islands, as they are perfect examples of the kind of women we're looking for: experienced, independent, with agency and not in need of any man in particular.

Gabrielle Harbowy's excellent essay "Next Year in Jerusalem" gets into the issue of representation of Jews in science fiction and fantasy. As in Seattle, we are few and far between in the genre (though I will note, on behalf of kradical, that some of the Star Trek tie-in novels feature a couple of prominent Jewish characters and, on behalf of mabfan, his most excellent Hugo Award-nominated story "Kaddish for the Last Survivor" which you can read at the link--among others of his work--has Judaism at its heart). Steven Silver has compiled an extensive list of Jewish science fiction and fantasy and includes links to other sources as well.

Lastly, Alis Franklin's essay, "Fat Chicks in SFF" gets into another area with which I have some passing familiarity. I was surprised that she hadn't encountered Mary in Spider Robinson's Callahan stories, a character that made me loyal to Spider as author to this very day (and thereby hangs a tale for another time). But she's got a point worth making.

Finding myself in my genre has been challenging, and I'm grateful to Jim for giving space to allow these voices to be heard.

So it's Wednesday morning. I kind of can't believe it's Wednesday morning, but because the weekend didn't actually end until Monday night, more or less, I suppose that makes sense. See, I went to Portland to visit calendula_witch and markjferrari for the weekend, with JB--left Seattle Friday morning; returned Monday afternoon. It mostly went the way it was supposed to, except for the end there--but I'm getting ahead of myself.

So, I left Seattle Friday morning on the Amtrak Coast Starlight, their long-haul sleeper train, mainly because its departure time meant that I wouldn't have to get to King Street Station at oh-God-thirty in the morning. It's a lovely train, with spacious seats, a nice dining car and the option to book a room and bed if you're going state-to-state. My plan, seeing as how state-to-state in this case was only a four-hour trip, was that I'd work on the train. Except that when I got on, I discovered that there was no wifi service. After spending about an hour trying to troubleshoot and discovering there was just no way for me to connect to the office, I settled down to do background reading on one particular project. I got into the Rose City at about 2ish and got settled in with my gracious hosts for the afternoon. JB didn't join us until late, his doctors appointments in town keeping him longer than originally planned.

Much of the weekend, as is often the case with Jews and Italians, was centered upon food and talk, and my goodness, our hosts spoiled us! There was the vigorous and theatrical production of delicious homemade ravioli on Friday night, and tasty savory and sweet crepes on Saturday morning. I fed us dinner on Saturday night--the family brisket, which was a hit. (Personal criticisms of my work: I still can't seem to get the gravy just right; and I forgot the bay leaves again. But I tried adding sun-dried tomatoes, which added a hit of sweetness that I liked so much that I may continue to include it.)

Friday and Saturday nights both involved playing games. I introduced everyone to Mexican Train and gifted our hosts with a Fluxx deck, which everyone seemed to enjoy.

Sunday morning, the four of us trooped over to davidlevine and kateyule's place with a bagel brunch in hand (a dozen bagels, two kinds of cheese, smoked salmon, hummus, berries and fruits, cold cuts, coffee and tea). Brenda Cooper was there to round out the group to seven people, and we had a delightful morning noshing and catching up.

At that point, calendula_witch went home to get some work done, and markjferrari, JB and I headed out to the Chocolate Festival. We spent a couple of hours tasting wine and chocolate of all sorts. I spent part of the afternoon a little tipsy as a result of all the wine tasting. We didn't find any wine that was especially fine, though it was all good, but we did each bring home some lovely chocolate treats. From there, we went to Powell's for the ritual pilgrimmage. I came home with copies of The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern (at seemingly everyone's urging this weekend) and The Angel's Game by Carlos Ruiz Zafon (whose novel The Shadow of the Wind I so adored). I also bought a poster that will eventually be framed and hung somewhere here in the house (still have no idea where; I need a TARDIS to properly display all the art I have, all the art I want, and all the art I create).

We spent Sunday evening working on a special project for Mark, and then Monday, after a scrumptious eggy-sausagey scramble breakfast, we were off on our separate ways. The original plan was that JB was going to drive me back to Seattle and stay a couple of days. Because he unexpectedly needed to stay in Portland for a couple more days, I ended up taking the train back to Seattle--and there was wifi, though it was spotty at best. The current plan is that JB will be up here sometime this weekend.

So, yes, it was a long, lovely weekend weekend, and I couldn't have been happier with it. I am blessed with such marvelous people in my life, and I'm grateful to have had such (tasty) quality time with so many of them.

I slept in this morning (despite Zeke's best efforts to dislodge me from the bed), and had a fairly late breakfast. At around 1 PM, I met varina8 at the Museum of History and Industry because they were offering free admission--it's Free First Thursday, so it seemed like a great opportunity to explore the museum's new location (at South Lake Union) and facility.

The new museum building is just gorgeous--broad and light and airy, with clerestory windows that let in the soft sunshine. The exhibits are well-deployed and much more modern than in the old facility. The top floor has an exhibit about maritime Seattle and features a beautiful march of windows that overlook Lake Union. You can see some of the boats from the Center for Wooden Boats, and watch as seaplanes swoop in to land on the lake at the Horizon Air water terminal.

One of the reasons that we went was to see a particular exhibit they were offering: Shalom! Open for Business: Tales of Jewish Merchants in Washington State. The exhibit was terrific. I learned about how big a role Jewish merchants have played in Seattle's growth and development. I was struck in particular by how influential the Sephardic community is in Seattle--struck but not surprised, since one of my earliest encounters with the Jewish community in Seattle was to attend a Sephardic Passover seder--one of my fondest memories of my early days here. Strolling through the exhibit was fun partly because, well, Jewish history and Seattle history, but also because of the number of business names I recognized. (Costco was founded by Jews! Many of the first fish mongers in Pike Place Market were--and still are--Jewish. Three Girls Bakery? Jewish!)

After we finished with that exhibit, we strolled through the maritime exhibit and then went downstairs to the cafe--which has a very nice menu--for some lunch. We poked through the gift shop, where I picked up Starvation Heights (Powells.com), a book about the quack, swindler and murderer, Linda Burfield Hazzard, whose notorious "sanitorium" was the last destination for many of her victims. It's a fascinating story that I've heard about as oral history and as snippets in TV documentaries about women serial killers; I decided I wanted to read what's considered one of the authoritative narratives of her grim and terrible tale.

We concluded our visit with watching an entertaining multimedia presentation about the Great Seattle Fire (including the notorious glue pot in which said fire began).

All in all, it was a lovely way to begin the new year. If you're local and you can catch the exhibit (it closes January 20), I highly recommend it.

Very nice review of the Kobold Guide to Combat at enworld.org. Money shot:

"There is some amazing bits of RPG 'wisdom' hidden in the pages of the Kobold Guide To Combat....a valuable resource and just a really excellent read!"

I'm quite gratified. Congratulations to all the contributors!