jason erik lundberg

gone but not forgotten

jelundberg@nc.rr.com — Sun, 13 Feb 05 01:20:00 UT

For a while now, I've been keeping two journals: my LiveJournal, for bits and oddments and random meme-ish things; and my home on JournalScape, what I considered my "real" journal, where I would talk about writing and what was going in on my life.

After recently redesigning my website, and discovering some of the limitations of JournalScape, I've decided to make the LiveJournal now my "real" journal. It's a bit more robust for what I want to do with it, and it allows embedding on my website, which I have done.

I love and appreciate all of you in the JournalScape community (Jenn and Kenny rock), and will still comment on blogs here (along with continuing the Mythologism blog), but my new home will be on LiveJournal. Please visit and continue the conversation.

Head over there right now for a report on this morning's BloggerCon 2005 in Chapel Hill.

Now Reading:
Iron Council by China MiÃ©ville

Stories Out to Publishers:
9

Books Read This Year:
5

Zines/Graphic Novels/Fiction Mags Read This Year:
2

style, monkey

jelundberg@nc.rr.com — Mon, 31 Jan 05 11:21:00 UT

The weekend went well, though not as productive writing-wise as I would have liked. "In Jurong" is now up to 5600 words, and our man has just made it to the Undine's Waterfall to get the answers behind his amnesia. After writing this entry, I'll try to finish it up (or get as close as I bloody well can).

This morning, I headed back to the health center so they could take blood, and I have to say, it was one of the most pleasant blood-takings I've ever had. The technician had the lightest touch, and was incredibly efficient, extracting two tubesful before I really even realized what she was doing. Then the needle was out and she was putting a band-aid on my arm. Awesome.

Afterward, I came over to Cup A Joe, ordered Green Eggs and Ham and a Grande Double Mocha, and busted out the iBook. Go words go!

A quick linky: Jennifer Weiner's SnarkSpot. She's a bestselling literary author with a wicked sense of humor, and she has hilarious advice on querying The New Yorker and becoming a novelist. (Thanks to Steph for the pointer!)

Last night, after paying bills (bleh), I filled out membership and registration info for ICFA and WisCon, and reserved hotel rooms for both events. Yay ICFA! Yay WisCon! I'm trying to see if they'll let me do a reading at ICFA in addition to my paper presentation, but I'm not sure if that's reserved for, you know, authors that people have actually heard of. And I put my name down as interested in being a participant at WisCon, so hopefully I'll be on a panel or two there, and get to do a reading as well. Janet also signed up to display her art at WisCon, so if you're going, make sure to check it out, and then buy some of her wonderful art so that we can continue going to cons.

***

Okay, on to the style-monkeyish part of this entry.

I've been paying much more attention to style recently in my (and others') writing, in the way the words fit together and sound on the page. And so, I've decided to give Greer Gilman another chance. Her story "Jack Daw's Pack" was published in the Winter 2000 issue of Century, and at that time, I gave up on it after a couple pages. I just didn't have the patience at that time to slow down and experience the story, to my detriment. And when I reviewed the excellent Small Beer Press anthology Trampoline, I had the same reaction to her novella "A Crowd of Bone," which I didn't even mention in the review since I couldn't make it past the first few pages. (The story went on to win the World Fantasy Award.)

Now thoroughly ashamed of myself, I revisited "Jack Daw's Pack" this weekend, and realized what a remarkable piece of literature it is. It was still confusticating and hard to penetrate, but I could appreciate it now, and revel in the myth-making that Gilman is able to pull off. The plot (if there could be said to have one) is one that requires analysis, and this (long) interview with Michael Swanwick helped to clear things up a bit, especially with the dialect and vocabulary that Gilman employs. It was also very interesting to see that not only does she write that way, but she seems to think that way.

What else is interesting is that she has completely invented a mythology, in the world of Cloud. Her archetypes are rooted in various mythologies, yet none of it feels rehashed or derivative at all. Her characters, gods and mortals alike, are completely original and fascinating.

Prime Books is reprinting her first novel Moonwise, which won the Crawford Award and was shortlisted for the Tiptree and Mythopoeic Fantasy Awards, but I managed to find a decently priced paperback on half.com. When I finish with my thesis, and have some time to truly appreciate her wordsmithing, I'll read both "A Crowd of Bone" and Moonwise.

And while I was thinking about all this stuff this past weekend, it hit me, out of the blue, lightning to the brain, how I should approach my own novel, the book which will be my doctoral dissertation. I'd been thinking about how I could create something iconic and lasting, and I think with this new approach I've got it. I don't want to say anything more about it, because it's all still nebulous and amorphous in my mind, and if said out loud, it might collapse like a soufflÃ©, made idiotic and simple by concretization. Needless to say, it'll be an ambitious project, and one that will test all my skills as a writer.

Okay, enough babbling, time to write.

UPDATE: At 2:00 p.m., I finished "In Jurong." It rounded out at 6700 words. I'll need to make another run-thru, fix some things up, flesh others out, possibly increase the word count a bit, and the end feels like it happens too fast. Then I'll give it to Janet for a looksee, fix the things she points out, then insert it into my thesis. Then John Kessel will look at it and give me any of his comments, I'll fix those, and thesis will be finis. Yay! I'm almost done!

Now Reading:
Monterra's Deliciosa & Other Tales & by Anna Tambour

Stories Out to Publishers:
9

Books Read This Year:
4

Zines/Graphic Novels/Fiction Mags Read This Year:
2

you spin me right round

jelundberg@nc.rr.com — Sat, 29 Jan 05 14:00:00 UT

Another Saturday, another weekend to be cooped up in the apartment. This afternoon, we're supposed to get 1-3 inches of snow and 1/4" of ice, which will most likely immobilize the city again. Fortunately, this is happening again on the weekend, where all it will ruin is our free time. sigh

The work continues on "In Jurong." It's like fighting with a tiger covered in Jell-O. Some days I've got it by the tail and the words flow easily. Other days, I can never get a grip on it, the words just out of reach, slippery, spun around, and I get bitten a lot by the internal editor. Okay, that analogy kind of sucks, but you get the gist. It's very slow going, lots of staring off into the distance. I'm right at 4,000 words now, where our heroes have ascended the great Mother Tree and are getting ready to board a zeppelin for the Undine's Waterfall. Hopefully, being stuck inside again this weekend will help the words along.

Yesterday, after standing up and fixing to leave the office for the afternoon, I was hit with a huge wave of vertigo. It lasted for a few minutes, then I felt more or less okay. No nausea, but it felt like was extremely drunk, the world tilting and spinning around me, my equilibrium shot. I had some lunch at Cup A Joe and tried to write, but was concerned about the vertigo. It was the second occurrence in a month, the first one a few weeks ago while just sitting on the couch watching tv. So I trucked over to the student health center and saw an awesome doctor, Dr. Shea, who was one of the funniest and nicest doctors I've ever gone to, if not the funniest and nicest. She said the dizziness might be a case of post-viral labyrinthitis caused by a sinus infection I had a month ago, though since there was no nausea and it had only happened twice so far, and those two times fairly far apart, she couldn't be sure that was it. She does want me to come in on Monday and do some blood tests, so they can rule out anything more serious.

She also diagnosed a plantar's wart on the ball of my right foot. Yecch. It's been hurting when I walk lately, and I didn't know if it was a blister or corn or what. Nope. Wart. Ewwww. Janet runs screaming from the room when I show it to her, yelling, "Freak! My husband is a freak!" I'm treating it with a salicylic acid patch thing that I cut into a circle and cover it with a band-aid before going to bed. Then I'm supposed to use an emory board to scrub off the dead skin so that the acid can get to the wart itself, and all the nasty virii inside. The other options were to freeze it or to cut it out, but I'll go with the acid patch first.

Okay, enough about the wonders of Jason's body.

We've confirmed an evening of literature and food at Internationalist Books (Chapel Hill, NC) on Saturday, February 26 at 7 p.m., to promote Scattered, Covered, Smothered. Several of our authors will be reading selections from their work and preparing unusual and delicious recipes. Participants include Nora Jemison, Louise Dolan, Luna Black, Elizabeth A. Jasper and Jamie Bishop. If you're in the area, please join us. (The SCS page has been updated to include this info, along with some more fun links in the "Miscellany" section.)

Also in the Carrboro area, but this coming Monday evening, January 31, 6-9 p.m., Off the Map author Daniel Wallace will be participating in Listen Up!, a literary fundraiser for WCOM-FM, along with local authors Hal Crowther, Lee Smith, Allan Gurganus, Haven Kimmel and Alan Shapiro. Tickets are $45 to attend the event at Panzanella, but if you're in the area, you can hear everything on 103.5 FM.

The Clarion Midnight Auction is now open until 11:59 p.m. (EST) tonight. Since they lost most of their funding from MSU, the auction is to help raise money to keep the workshop going. Anyone reading this journal knows how much Clarion has meant to me both professionally and personally, and it's a program that deserves to continue. So go, bid. There's some truly excellent swag you could get, like: a signed, spiral-bound homemade galley for Cory Doctorow's forthcoming novel Someone Comes to Town, Someone Leaves Town; or the Hill House Author's Preferred Limited Edition of Neil Gaiman's novel American Gods; or a signed hardcover of Michael Jasper's collection Gunning for the Buddha; or a bound galley of Jeff VanderMeer's forthcoming novel Shriek: An Afterword, or a fragment of his manuscript The Zamilon File; or a copy of Intracities (including a story by yours truly).

The 2005 Locus Poll & Survey is now online, and you can go vote for your favorite novels, short stories, anthologies, &c. of the works published in 2004. Scattered, Covered, Smothered didn't make the Recommended Reading List (though we did get listed in the New Books for the third week of January), but we were against some pretty heavy competition. However, if you feel that you particularly like the anthology, or any of the stories published within, or my editing skillz, or Janet's artistic skillz, you can do a write-in for any of those categories. I'm not fishing for votes, but if you like the work we did, it would be nice to know that.

Okay, time to write.

Now Reading:
Monterra's Deliciosa & Other Tales & by Anna Tambour

Stories Out to Publishers:
9

Books Read This Year:
4

Zines/Graphic Novels/Fiction Mags Read This Year:
2

halfway to the end

jelundberg@nc.rr.com — Thu, 27 Jan 05 10:43:00 UT

I'm very close to finishing "In Jurong." I got a lot of work done on it in the last couple of days, and am currently up to about 3700 words. A thousand of those were done last night, after dinner. I did significant work on the rest of the thesis itself yesterday after work, design- and layout-wise, but didn't get any writing done, so while Janet watched American Idol last night, I took the iBook over to Borders and wrote for an hour and a half.

To keep the momentum going, I've taken the morning off of work to continue the wordage. After dropping off Janet at her office, I headed over to Cup A Joe near campus (my all-time favorite coffeehouse to write at), got a cup of English Breakfast, busted out the iBook, wrote a mythologism, and got ready to hunker back into my imagined world of the ersatz and transformed Jurong Birdpark.

I think I'm about halfway through the story at this point. Originally, I was thinking it would only be about 5,000 words, but now it'll be close to 8,000. I'm throwing in a lot of Buddhist theory, some big questions about identity and existence, as well as some kick-ass elemental magic. I'm having a lot of fun with it right now.

This afternoon, I'll head over to Chapel Hill to look at the proofs for Off the Map, and will also need to take Becca back to the vet for a checkup, so I want to make sure I get as much writing done this morning as I can. The wireless connection gets turned off as soon as I post this, to avoid the temptations and distractions of the Interthing.

Wish me luck.

Now Reading:
Four Stories Till the End by Zoran Zivkovic

Stories Out to Publishers:
9

Books Read This Year:
3

Zines/Graphic Novels/Fiction Mags Read This Year:
2

lies and little deaths

jelundberg@nc.rr.com — Mon, 24 Jan 05 23:11:00 UT

Had me an epiphany this weekend, I did.

You intrepid readers of this regular series of writerly ramblings know that I'm trying to finish my Master's thesis. The original plan was to have it done, at least as a draft, by the end of this month, and that goal may still be attainable.

I've been stressing out for the last three or four weeks because I had one short story to finish writing ("In Jurong") and one to rewrite ("Last Fare") to complete my seven story suite. All the stories were thematically linked in that they deal with the archetypal Trickster, and then they were all connected (however loosely) by the final story ("BlueGreen Quietus: A Triptych," which includes "Reality, Interrupted" and "In Jurong").

The stress part came in that "In Jurong" was taking forever to write. As reported earlier, I'd frankly gotten bored with the story, and the writing felt pedestrian, and I just didn't want to work on it anymore. I was uninspired. Watching some great foreign films helped, as did reading K.J. Bishop's "We the Enclosed," and for a while, I was actually excited about it again. I changed the viewpoint to second person (a risky prospect, but, I figured, a necessary one), and paid more attention to the language. The first scene was much better, more funny and more frightening. A character went from a spear-carrier to a bad-ass warrior type.

And then it stopped.

And wouldn't start again.

I tried different things. Writing the words longhand. Retyping it into my iBook. Sitting in the living room. Sitting in a cafe. None of it worked.

Then I realized that my writer's block (which is a bit of a misnomer, since I knew what I wanted to put on the page, but just couldn't, more of a writer's clog) was tied into my anxiety about finishing the thesis in time. I couldn't start rewrites on "Last Fare" until "In Jurong" was finished (don't ask me why), and so I was continually feeling the pressure, and being paralyzed into inaction.

So I made a decision. Instead of the thesis being a seven story Trickster suite, I would make it an honest-to-Buddha collection, one that is representative of my writing over the last few years, the period of time I've been working on my M.A. I would include stories that have already been published (or will be soon), as well as my most recent that haven't found homes yet.

I would still need to finish writing "In Jurong," but I'd no longer feel pressured also to finish "Last Fare." If I got it done in time, great; if not, no worries.

Goodbye, Seven Little Deaths: A Story-Suite. Hello, Lies and Little Deaths.

Here's the table of contents:

Preface
Donât Blink
Hair
Songstress
Jury Duty
Watersnake, Firesnake
One Less
Stuck
One Big Crunch
Most Excellent and Lamentable
Solipsister
A Night in the Great Dismal Swamp
Ghost Dancing
Night Off
Enlightenment
The Artists Pentaptych
Skin Flute
Irregardless
Hypomnesia
Expiation
Reality, Interrupted
In Jurong

In addition to more fully representing my writing over the past few years, it also bumps up my word count, from ~31,000 words to ~52,000 words, which is approaching a respectable book length. It's also a good template if I want to approach Prime or another publisher later; by then, hopefully I'll have published more stories, and can substitute them for less strong ones.

And so, this realization, this epiphanic moment freed the blockage, the inspirational plaque, or at least loosened it slightly, and I was able to concentrate on writing "In Jurong" again. I took my iBook to the coffeehouse after work today, and managed about 1200 words in just under two hours.

Yay.

Now Reading:
Four Stories Till the End by Zoran Zivkovic

Stories Out to Publishers:
9

Books Read This Year:
3

Zines/Graphic Novels/Fiction Mags Read This Year:
1

sagas three, part three

jelundberg@nc.rr.com — Fri, 21 Jan 05 22:57:00 UT

The 26th Annual International Conference for the Fantastic in the Arts is coming up in March, and since I'll be presenting a paper there — "A Lull in the Conversation: Embedded Narrative in the Fiction of Kelly Link" — I figured it was time to make flight arrangements. I went on Expedia.com last Thursday (1/13) and bought two tickets, Raleigh to Fort Lauderdale and back. The last time I was at ICFA, two years ago, I went by myself, and even though I knew a few people there, it was pretty lonely. I'm really looking forward to Janet going with me this time.

The paper tickets arrived on Monday, and I shouted something that rhymes with "DUCK!" then proceeded to smack my forehead. My tickets were fine, but Janet's were under "Janet Chui." While this is her professional name, and what I call her, and what most of her friends call her, it is not, in fact, her legal name. None of her identification is under this name. Her passport, visa, student ID, ATM card, all of it is registered to "Jia Ee Chui."

Idiot. Stupid. Blockhead. Boob. Cretin. Dimwit. Dumbbell. Dunce. Dunderhead. Fool. Halfwit. Ignoramus. Imbecile. Jackass. Meathead. Mental defective. Moron. Nincompoop. Nitwit. Pinhead. Simpleton. Twit. I was all of these and more.

I called Expedia the next day to get the name changed on the tickets and then just to have them reissued. It was quickly made apparent that this simply couldn't be done. Since 9/11, airlines have gotten increasingly anal about security, and since paper tickets had been issued (the decision of the airlines, not my choice), they were non-refundable. I was told to try to contact the airlines directly, to see if they could possibly help me out.

Naturally, they couldn't. Their policy was the same: no name changes. Her ticket was worthless. I was out more than $200, just like that.

I called back Expedia and asked if I could get the money credited to my credit card, and they said it didn't work like that. They could credit "Janet Chui" toward a later flight, but the problem remained that "Janet Chui" doesn't exist in the legal sense. The money was gone.

Like I said in part one of these Sagas Three, I've been reading The Art of Happiness. In it, the Dalai Lama talks about patience, and dharma, and he spends a lot of time discussing ways that we can avoid letting the little things in life drive us crazy. One of his techniques is practicing acceptance (which goes along with the practice of patience), realizing that if every available option has been exercised and you still don't have the outcome you want, to accept that there are things in life you have no control over.

I talked to everyone I could talk to about this situation, but the fact was that because of my goof-up, I was out $200. And there was nothing I could do to bring that money back. I fumed for a while and beat myself up about it, then I accepted the situation and moved on. I was out the money, but it certainly wouldn't break us. We still can pay our rent and buy groceries and keep the electricity going. I wasn't happy about the situation, but once I accepted the reality, I was able to go to the next step.

I called Expedia yet again (I think this was on Wednesday by now), had them cancel Janet's tickets, and bought new tickets for the exact same flights. Fortunately, the same seats were available, since the flights were far from booked up, and we were easily able to get her on the same planes. For almost twice the price. The fares had shot up in less than a week, but if I wanted her on those flights, I had to pay them.

Her tickets arrived today, with the correct name on.

So, we're definitely going to ICFA. I reserved a room at the hotel. Now I have to send a check for conference membership and all that. Going to be an expensive trip, but hopefully I'll get some financial assistance from the two grants I'm applying for.

So the lesson learned: make sure you fill out the passenger's legal name before hitting that OK button to buy plane tickets. Nothing like losing $200 to teach you some humility.

Now Reading:
The Art of Happiness by His Holiness the Dalai Lama
and Howard C. Cutler

Stories Out to Publishers:
9

Books Read This Year:
2

Zines/Graphic Novels/Fiction Mags Read This Year:
1

sagas three, part two

jelundberg@nc.rr.com — Fri, 21 Jan 05 15:15:00 UT

As previously reported, our hamster Becca is living with a cyst/tumor on her underside. The cyst part has been drained several times, the last one of which was pretty traumatic, leading to some real worry that she'd been so weakened by the experience that her immune system wouldn't be able to cope. But she bounced back fairly quickly, and is now back to her regular eating and exercise habits. We check in on her frequently, and she seems happy to see us.

A few days ago (Tuesday, I think it was), Janet noticed that the mass had grown again, and had turned a darker color. I set up a vet appointment for yesterday at 4:00, worried that just the experience would freak her out again. Before leaving, I put some bedding in a box marked Priority Mail (which always gets interested looks from strangers), along with some dry food and a small piece of broccoli. In went Becca next, who promptly scratched at the walls, and tried to jump out (but it was too tall for that).

A quick 15-minute drive, and then waiting for about five minutes in the waiting room before Dr. Grant came in. I held Becca, since she knows me and wouldn't be as stressed, while the vet checked the mass.

"You know," she said, "it really doesn't look any bigger than the last time you brought her in here."

"Do we need to drain it again?"

"No. I'm afraid that she'll have the same, if not worse, reaction than last time. If the cancer has spread to her heart or lungs, the trauma of that might be too much for her."

"Well, what about the color change?"

"It has gotten darker, but the fluid I took out last time was fairly dark. It looks like this fluid has filled back up and is what is producing the dark color."

"So what do we do?"

"Let's keep an eye on it. If it gets any bigger in a week's time, then we'll discuss possibly draining it again. If not, then we'll leave it alone. She seems to be pretty happy and frisky, so if she starts getting lethargic or cranky again, let me know."

And that was pretty much it. When I asked how much I owed her for the examination, she said, "Nothing. Don't worry about it. This was just a quick trip." Isn't that awesome? Dr. Grant has been a really great vet, and is wonderful with our little hamster. She really cares about both Becca and us, and is very willing to talk to us about what's going on. I'm so glad we found her.

So after the appointment, I drove with Becca up to North Raleigh to pick up Janet from work. We were expecting to get snow again yesterday evening, and I did not want to get caught in that again. The trip was easy and quick, and Becca was very happy to see Janet when she got in the car, since she hadn't been home in two days. Becca kept climbing all over Janet's coat sleeves and her legs, and would run around and jump in the box. She was clearly feeling good.

So we're on observation duty. She's being perky as always, and I can hear her now running on her wheel. I just went in to say hi and pet her, and she wanted me to let you all know that she appreciates the good thoughts, and sends everyone a nibble.

Now Reading:
The Art of Happiness by His Holiness the Dalai Lama
and Howard C. Cutler

Stories Out to Publishers:
9

Books Read This Year:
2

Zines/Graphic Novels/Fiction Mags Read This Year:
1

sagas three, part one

jelundberg@nc.rr.com — Fri, 21 Jan 05 11:35:00 UT

Yes, I'm alive and kicking, and, now, updating.

As you may have heard (or maybe not), two days ago, parts of North Carolina got about an inch of snow (or less), and everybody freaked out. I dropped Janet off Wednesday morning, then went to a dentist appointment/cleaning. My teeth looked pretty good (except for inbetween; need to floss more), and I even sold a copy of the anthology to my hygienist. When leaving, I noticed that it had started snowing, and was happy to see the white stuff coming down. Falling snow always puts a smile on my face. A quick trip over to Barnes & Noble (where I got the new issue of Amazing Stories with Greg's cool story "Authorwerx"), and during my fifteen-minute perusal of the store, the accumulation was such that I almost busted my ass when walking to my car. Luckily, my cat-like reflexes saved me from an ass-busting, but as I was driving the short way home, my car was sliding all over the road.

I got home safely, and sat, open-jawed, in front of the telly for the rest of the afternoon. The area had only gotten a dusting of snow, but it almost immediately froze on the roads, causing pileup after pileup; there were over five hundred accidents in total that day. I-40 quickly became a parking lot. Western Boulevard (which runs on the back side of campus) was a nightmare. People were abandoning their cars by the dozens. The beltline that I take to Janet's office looked bad, though it was still moving. I usually leave at 5:15 so that I can pick her up at 5:45, but I decided to leave at 4:30 to allow extra time.

At 10:30 p.m., six hours after I left, I finally reached her office. I think my top speed may have been 5 mph, if that. Cars were abandoned on the sides of the road, but also sometimes right in the middle of the road. I was lucky enough to be able to pull into a CVS pharmacy about halfway through, to stretch my cramped legs, use the bathroom (my kidneys were screaming by that point) and buy some provisions for the road. This was somewhere around 8:00, and I hadn't had dinner yet. I stayed in contact with Janet and my mom when I could get through on my cell phone (the lines were jammed from so many gridlocked people either calling police and EMS, or, like me, trying to keep my loved ones updated). Since there was no way we'd be getting back to Cary that night, Janet checked all of the hotels around her office, and all of them had been booked up. So we resigned ourselves to sleeping on the floor of her cubicle.

I found it interesting that the night before, I had been reading the section in The Art of Happiness that talks about patience. The Dalai Lama talks in that section about the value of learning true patience, and seeing obstacles in your life not as hindrances that might ruin your day and make you crazy, but as tests of your patience. So, keeping that in mind, I didn't freak out, or yell at other drivers, or curse the universe for putting me through this ordeal, but realized that there was nothing I could really do about the situation until I got to her office, and to just try to roll with the situation. When I got tired of listening to the radio, I turned on my iPod (which I'd luckily thought to bring with me), and listened to downloaded NPR interviews I hadn't gotten to yet, with Eddie Izzard and with Graham Joyce. I also put on Izzard's comedy album Circle, so that I'd have something to laugh at while stuck in the car. And always in the back of my mind was Things could be so much worse. You could have flipped your car over and be freezing to death. Or you could have been vacationing in Sumatra when the tsunami hit. This really isn't that bad. I felt very much the Buddhist then.

So yeah, I finally made it to Janet's office, and met some of her other coworkers who'd been stranded there. I was greeted with a hero's welcome, and it was nice. As everyone else was discussing when they were going to attempt to get back out on the road, I hugged Janet, and plied her with cookies and Gatorade, and checked my email (I was having internet service withdrawal symptoms). Janet's supervisors, Todd and Stormi, mentioned that their house wasn't too far away, and they had a guest room with a private bathroom where we could stay for the night. If I hadn't just met them, I would've kissed them on the lips.

The roads to their place were fairly clear, and we made the trip in half an hour in Todd's all-wheel drive SUV. They have two big boxers, a male and a female with the saddest doggie faces I've ever seen, who greeted us, after a brief trepidation, with sniffs and licks and not-so-subtle hints to be petted. None of us had had dinner, so Stormi put a pizza in the oven, and we munched on it while watching The Daily Show (which is my one major regret in not having cable). Janet and I went upstairs to bed, and were asleep in seconds.

Yesterday (Thursday) morning, we all drove to their offices at 10:00, and after a quick kiss goodbye to Janet, I got in my car (which I'd left there the night before) and drove home. By that point, it had warmed up enough that most of the ice and wetness on the roads had evaporated, leaving behind vasts swaths of whiteness from salt and other road gunk. The roads were clear, and it only took me 40 minutes to get home. I fed the hamsters, called Janet and then my mom to announce I'd gotten home safe, then crashed into bed. I slept until 2 p.m.

They're still trying to figure out what happened. I've never in my life seen gridlock that bad, even when driving through Washington, D.C., or on the New Jersey Turnpike. I don't know if people saw the snow and rushed out to get somewhere, to pick up a child at school, or to leave work, before it supposedly got too bad, and ended up hitting all the slick spots. And then when rush hour hit, everything got exponentially worse. I didn't realize Raleigh had so many cars. And Janet repeated her observation that this is one of the worst areas to get around, that you're absolutely dependent on a car to get anywhere. Added to that is the people who simply turn off their brains when bad weather hits, and they suddenly have no idea how to drive.

But it could have been so much worse. I didn't slide into a ditch. I didn't collide with any other cars. I made it there and back safely. I never panicked.

Patience. It has taken on a whole new meaning for me now.

Now Reading:
The Art of Happiness by His Holiness the Dalai Lama
and Howard C. Cutler

Stories Out to Publishers:
9

Books Read This Year:
2

Zines/Graphic Novels/Fiction Mags Read This Year:
1

uh...student

jelundberg@nc.rr.com — Tue, 18 Jan 05 12:10:00 UT

There are distinct advantages in working as a graduate assistant.

As a graduate student working in a university-related organization, not much is expected of you. Well, that's not right exactly, but it's more like...lowered expectations. Your employer knows that this job is not your highest priority, that you're just trying to make a bit of money while finishing your schooling.

And so, they hesitate to give you the big assignments, because, well, because you're a student. They think, "Oh look at him, devoting himself to the pursuit of knowledge, we can't tax his little brain too much, can we?" And so they give you relatively easy stuff to work on: some minor website design, copyediting, occasionally hosting a teleconference, nothing really major. Because...say it with me now...you're a student.

Plus, you're only there part time because you're finishing your thesis, so you have an easy out if they want to give you too much: "Oh, sorry, you see, I'm only here until noon today, can't do that."

So you get off fairly light. Don't get me wrong, there's still work to be done, but it's nothing like network administration or conference organization.

These lowered expectations also help in case you happen to bollocks anything up.

"You! You get in here right now! Do you see this report? You've spelled the program director's name wrong! It's all formatted in Toxica! There aren't even any...how the hell did you forget to insert periods and commas in here? It reads like a bloody run-on sentence, it does!"

"Um, well...student."

"Oh. Oh, I see. A student. Right. Okay, well, never mind, then. Off you go."

The dress is code is also more lax. Full-timers often have to dress in business attire, or at least nice casual. You, as a student assistant, get to wear jeans, and sometimes even tee-shirts. You're not dealing with clients, after all, you're just huddled away in your little corner, not bothering anyone too much. Again, an easy out.

"You! You there! Listen, what's the meaning of all this jeans-wearing, eh? This is a business, a company we're trying to run here. We can't have people actually comfortable, now can we?"

"Uh...student."

"Oh, student, right. Okay then. All right. Carry on."

Great fun, being a student assistant.

Now Reading:
The Art of Happiness by His Holiness the Dalai Lama
and Howard C. Cutler

Stories Out to Publishers:
9

Books Read This Year:
2

Zines/Graphic Novels/Fiction Mags Read This Year:
1

news, both good and bad

jelundberg@nc.rr.com — Sat, 15 Jan 05 15:39:00 UT

First the bad.

It's very likely that one of our hamsters has a tumor. We took Becca to the vet a few months ago for a growth that was discovered on her underside, near her right leg. The vet said it looked for the most part like a cyst, and she was able to drain the majority of the fluid out of it. There was a little bump left, but it was something that they wouldn't be able to get rid of without surgery. Anyway, after that Becca was spry and bouncy and extremely friendly. Sometimes she got a little annoying because she was so hyper, wanting to come out of her cage and play all the time.

A couple days ago, Janet noticed that that area was looking bigger again, so I called the vet and made an appointment for this morning. After checking her out, and trying to drain it again, the vet told us it was no longer filled with liquid, but instead with this viscous peanut-buttery-type stuff that has the properties of cancerous material. She took out all she could, but the rest is solid. She also injected Becca with a small amount of prednisone to try to shrink the area up a little.

We've been checking on her throughout the afternoon, and she's pretty grumpy (well, you would be too if strange people kept sticking you with needles). We'll need to see how she's doing over the weekend, and make some decisions on Monday if she hasn't gotten better. There's a huge risk with surgery on hamsters, and there's no guarantee that she'll live even a few months longer even if it is successful. And the thought of putting her through all that is pretty soul-wrenching. Hopefully, the steroids will do their thing, and she'll start feeling better, and we won't have to worry about it, but it just tears at me that we might not have Becca around for much longer. She's got such a wonderful and fun personality, and I would really miss her.

The less bad news is that the Matisse/Picasso exhibit at the NC Museum of Art is sold out in its final weekend. I've been wanting to go over there since the exhibit opened in October, and just kept forgetting about it. This week, NPR has been hyping the closing weekend a lot, and Janet and I were prepared to go sometime early early tomorrow morning (like, after Saturday Night Live), but every time is sold out except from 3-5 a.m., and that's just too early/late for us. So we'll be missing it. Dammit.

Okay, now the good news.

I'd been feeling bummed out and uninspired for the last week, and completely unable to get anywhere with "In Jurong," part 3 of my "BlueGreen Quietus" triptych. Parts 1 and 2 sing on the page, full of glorious, melodious prose. And then I'd look at part 3, and it's pedestrian, and boring. Going here, going there, la la la, who cares. It's not an action-packed story by any means, and has always been meant as picaresque, an exploration of landscape and character, and landscape of character. But shit, if I as the author think it's boring as hell, I certainly can't expect a reader to enjoy it.

And this really sucks because it's a necessary part of my MA thesis, which needs to be finished, at the latest, by the end of February. So I'm not enjoying it, and I'm simultaneously paralyzed by this deadline.

Then I thought of a way to maybe recharge the batteries, with visual stimulation. I was hoping to see some Picasso and Matisse paintings this weekend, but that won't happen. So, movies it is. We saw A Very Long Engagement last night, Jean-Pierre Jeunet's WWI film starring Audrey Tautou, which finally opened here in NC. It was an excellent and visually stunning movie, as usual, if a bit graphic (though when the subject matter is war, it's expected you'll be seeing many people dying in pretty horrible ways). He did the opposite in this film than in Amelie, in that instead of pushing the saturation of color, he dialed it way down, until everything looked a bit like a sepia tone or duotone. It's a beautiful film, and the mystery-style story is an interesting thread that keeps pulling you all the way to the end.

Another movie I've been looking forward to seeing, and which also just finally opened here, is House of Flying Daggers, which maybe we'll see tomorrow afternoon. It's by the director of Hero, and is apparently even better than that film.

Imagery is such an important part in both these films, and I'm hoping that I'll get the juices flowing again after watching them.

UPDATE: I wrote this a few hours ago, then put it aside to start work again on "In Jurong." Another thing that seems to have motivated me is "We the Enclosed," KJ Bishop's new story in Leviathan 4, which arrived in my mailbox yesterday. It deals with enclosures, and the search for someone, but also with memory: three things that my story addresses. I also decided to switch the POV to second person, which I know will turn some people off, but it feels necessary now that I've made the change.

I'm rewriting the story from the beginning, and it's already more interesting than it was. Wish me luck.

Now Reading:
The Art of Happiness by His Holiness the Dalai Lama
and Howard C. Cutler

Stories Out to Publishers:
9

Books Read This Year:
2

Zines/Graphic Novels/Fiction Mags Read This Year:
1

introversion is not a crime

jelundberg@nc.rr.com — Wed, 12 Jan 05 11:26:00 UT

Janet points to a fantastically insightful and very funny article about the differences between introverts and extroverts: "Caring for Your Introvert" by Jonathan Rauch, originally published in The Atlantic Monthly, March 2003. The link above is to the full reprinted article, but certain paragraphs bear repeating (and I will have to restrain myself from quoting the full article).

Here are a few choice excerpts:

Do you know someone who needs hours alone every day? Who loves quiet conversations about feelings or ideas, and can give a dynamite presentation to a big audience, but seems awkward in groups and maladroit at small talk? Who has to be dragged to parties and then needs the rest of the day to recuperate? Who growls or scowls or grunts or winces when accosted with pleasantries by people who are just trying to be nice?
If so, do you tell this person he is "too serious," or ask if he is okay? Regard him as aloof, arrogant, rude? Redouble your efforts to draw him out?
If you answered yes to these questions, chances are that you have an introvert on your hands â and that you aren't caring for him properly. Science has learned a good deal in recent years about the habits and requirements of introverts. It has even learned, by means of brain scans, that introverts process information differently from other people (I am not making this up). If you are behind the curve on this important matter, be reassured that you are not alone. Introverts may be common, but they are also among the most misunderstood and aggrieved groups in America, possibly the world.
[...]
Extroverts are energized by people, and wilt or fade when alone. They often seem bored by themselves, in both senses of the expression. Leave an extrovert alone for two minutes and he will reach for his cell phone. In contrast, after an hour or two of being socially "on," we introverts need to turn off and recharge. My own formula is roughly two hours alone for every hour of socializing. This isn't antisocial. It isn't a sign of depression. It does not call for medication. For introverts, to be alone with our thoughts is as restorative as sleeping, as nourishing as eating. Our motto: "I'm okay, you're okay â in small doses."
[...]
With their endless appetite for talk and attention, extroverts also dominate social life, so they tend to set expectations. In our extrovertist society, being outgoing is considered normal and therefore desirable, a mark of happiness, confidence, leadership. Extroverts are seen as bighearted, vibrant, warm, empathic. "People person" is a compliment. Introverts are described with words like "guarded," "loner," "reserved," "taciturn," "self-contained," "private" â narrow, ungenerous words, words that suggest emotional parsimony and smallness of personality. Female introverts, I suspect, must suffer especially. In certain circles, particularly in the Midwest, a man can still sometimes get away with being what they used to call a strong and silent type; introverted women, lacking that alternative, are even more likely than men to be perceived as timid, withdrawn, haughty.
[...]
How can I let the introvert in my life know that I support him and respect his choice?
First, recognize that it's not a choice. It's not a lifestyle. It's an orientation.
Second, when you see an introvert lost in thought, don't say "What's the matter?" or "Are you all right?"
Third, don't say anything else, either.

Writers and artists, by their nature, are introverts. We spend hours alone with our words or our paints, trying to craft something worthwhile, and we're okay with that. Every so often, we need human contact, but just enough to get us energized again. I'm perfectly happy if I'm left alone to read a book for hours on end. When Janet's painting or writing, I know to leave her alone (except to steal a quick kiss or hug). This is how we are. Like Rauch says, it's not a choice, it's who we are.

Despite the exhibitionist nature of this journal, or my apparent garrulous disposition at conventions, I'm not a terribly outgoing guy. I market the books we publish through Two Cranes Press and deal with booksellers because that's what's needed to sell copies, though I'm always uncomfortable doing so. Job interviews are hell.

Introversion is not a crime or pathology. It's an orientation, like sexual preference, or political affiliation. Please, read the article. Knowledge leads to understanding. We just want to be understood.

Now Reading:
The Art of Happiness by His Holiness the Dalai Lama
and Howard C. Cutler

Stories Out to Publishers:
9

Books Read This Year:
2

Zines/Graphic Novels/Fiction Mags Read This Year:
1

advice on literary agents

jelundberg@nc.rr.com — Wed, 12 Jan 05 10:35:00 UT

Neil Gaiman recently posted a response on his journal given by Teresa Nielsen Hayden (editor at Tor Books and expert in the publishing biz) to a question about acquiring a literary agent. The answer was comprehensive and insightful and worth noting for all us writing folks out there. Here it is, snurched with permission:

1. If you're writing fiction, the True Secret Answer is "get an offer." If you've got an offer, you can get an agent. If you don't have an offer, you don't want the kind of agent you're likely to get.

a. If you're good enough to get published, having an agent may prove helpful. If you aren't (yet), you definitely don't want the kind of agent you're going to get.

i. There is no substitute for writing a book that people want to buy and read. If you can do that, you can get published. If you can't, no clever workaround will help, because we can't force people to buy and read books they don't like.

b. Some ways you might get an agent without getting an offer: Be obviously and extraordinarily good. Sell a lot of short stories. Have some other seriously hot credentials.

2. Don't start by looking for an agent. Do your research first. Start by learning about agents, submissions, publishing houses, the industry, et cetera. Note: This is a huge subject.

a. No matter how you think it works, the publishing industry doesn't work the way you think it does. This is true even for publishing professionals. They know how their part of the industry works, and they know a lot about adjacent areas, but the further afield they go, the less reliable their expertise will be. People who aren't in the industry generally don't have a clue.

i. A phenomenal number of articles about how publishing works are written by people who don't know what they're talking about. This is partly because writing about writing, or writing about publishing, is what wanna-be authors do when they've given up on writing, but don't yet want to admit it. It's also because a made-up version of the publishing industry is going to be much simpler and more logical than the real thing, and thus is easier to write about.

ii. Look askance at articles that credit some industry practice to the stupidity of people working in the industry, who have failed to see the simple and obvious solution the author of the article is about to suggest.

3. There are easily as many scam agents, useless agents, and clueless agents as there are real ones. They all swap bad information with each other. The difference is that the scammers know it's bad information.

a. You can't research this subject just by getting online and looking. You have to stick to good sources.

4. Did I mention that any idiot can write a book about how to be a writer? When you see someone who's never sold a book, but who's written a book about how to get your book published, and said book was published by a vanity house, and said author is nevertheless accepted as an authority on the subject by a great many aspiring writers, you know you've wandered into strange territory.

a. The scary part is that I've just described more than one Authoritative Source of Advice about Writing and Publishing.

b. Any idiot can put up a website, too.

c. Check out your source's credentials.

i. It's always worth your while to assess the quality of the info you're getting, because bad advice can cost you such an inordinate amount of time and effort.
***
The Essential Resources:

The Association of Authors' Representatives
There are some legit agents that don't belong to the AAR, but not many; and if an agent belongs, they're legit.

Writer Beware

Preditors & Editors is one site in two places.

Aspiring writers should read both Writer Beware and Preditors & Editors. Reading them from start to finish wouldn't be a bad idea.
***
Further Agent-Specific Resources:

Agent Research & Evaluation has a good reputation and a stern attitude.

Agent Query is an online database of agent info. I haven't used them. They've been casually recommended to me.
***
People who give reliable advice:

Victoria Strauss, who ought to get a Special Hugo or something. She has a collection of very good articles on her website, a couple of which are specifically about finding an agent.

Ann Crispin.

Jim Macdonald, sometimes known as Yog Sysop. He hangs out at AbsoluteWrite, fighting scammers in the Bewares Board, and teaching writing in Learn Novel Writing with Uncle Jim.

Me (she said, modestly) mostly, unless I'm feeling irresponsible. You can usually tell. Further down is a list of some of my Making Light posts about writing, publishing, and related subjects. I put it at the bottom because it's so long.

John Savage, a pseudonymous lawyer who specializes in law for writers. He does a weblog, Surreality Check.

C. E. Petit, a lawyer who specializes in law for writers, has a weblog called Scrivener's Error.

Michelle Sagara.

Kent Brewster, of Speculations/Rumor Mill, has overseen a great many discussions of publishing, editing, and agenting.

Andy Zack is a legit agent who answers questions online.
***
Selected other sites that track and discuss good guys and bad guys:

Speculations.com, the Rumor Mill. (Especially see Speculations' "Search for the Killer Agent" thread.)

AbsoluteWrite, the Bewares Board.

WritersWeekly.com, Whispers and Warnings.
***
Miscellaneous:

Sillybean's Publishing 101 has a good selection of current links on writerly issues, and I'm not just saying that because it links to a lot of my articles.

Internet-Resources.com is an oppressively compendious list of writers' resources.
***
Bad Resources:

Avoid the list of agents at writers.net. Anyone can type in their own name there.

The more you know, the more errors you see in the "Everyone Who's Anyone in Adult Trade Publishing and Tinseltown Too" website.
***
Stuff from Making Light, roughly in order of its relevance:

On the Getting of Agents

Slushkiller

A Brief Note on Linguistic Markers (recognizing scammers)

More Linguistic Markers (more of the same)

Bad Advice on Cover Letters (Todd James Pierce's bad advice)

Taking Your Own Bad Advice (Todd James Pierce digs himself in deeper)

Varieties of Insanity Known to Affect Authors. If it amuses you, "Varieties of Insanity Known to Affect Authors" is also available on assorted t-shirts, sweatshirts, and tote bags.

Cover Letters (a brief note on bad cover letters)

Nudge Note (short: waiting through a submission)

Extratextual Characteristics (on categories)

How Books Sell (addressing some common errors)

Squick and Squee (fanfic as an R&D lab of techniques)

Namarie Sue (Mary Sues, and other iniquities)

Is It Me (things the editor doesn't want to hear about)

From Correspondence: Sneaking Out Under the Literary Radar

On Writing Genre Fantasy (brief)

The Evil Overlord Devises a Plot (cheap plot tricks). The weblog post talks about and links to The Evil Overlord Devises a Plot, but the actual thing is here. The fancy automated version of the Evil Overlord Plot Generator (with Murphy's Laws of Combat) is here.

Looking at The Writers' Collective (scam publishing)

Hanging Out In Someone Else's Argument (PC magazine)

Look Quick, Before It Goes Away (can't summarize it)

Yet Another Book (very brief, on stupid advice books)

Deserts of Vast Literacy (extremely brief)

Wocky Jivvy, Wergle Flomp (scam poetry competitions)

The Power of the Press, Sort Of (hapless vanity publisher)

Prose and Cons (scam agent Melanie Mills gets busted)

Yet Another Variant (touches on publishing scams)

Rowling vs. Stouffer (I thought it was interesting)

The Underlying Forms of Fraud (a general article on fraud)

Communicator Awards, and Other Coincidences (Cris Robbins Agency)

Now Reading:
The Art of Happiness by His Holiness the Dalai Lama
and Howard C. Cutler

Stories Out to Publishers:
9

Books Read This Year:
2

Zines/Graphic Novels/Fiction Mags Read This Year:
1

wellspring accolades

jelundberg@nc.rr.com — Mon, 10 Jan 05 21:15:00 UT

Received the very pleasant news this morning that my story "The Artists Pentaptych" has been nominated for the Speculative Literature Foundation 2004 Fountain Award! Woo! I'm sure that I'll be up against hundreds of other stories, so I have no idea what my chances actually are, but, as they say, it's an honor to be nominated. Thanks, Eric.

And so, because Scattered, Covered, Smothered was published in 2004 (just barely squeaking in), I also get to do some nominating of mine own. All the stories we published showed literary merit just to be included in the anthology, but there were some that I feel show, in my humble opinion, exceptional literary quality. Unfortunately, I'm only allowed to choose three, and there were a few that I'd like to have chosen but they didn't have a speculative element (which is one of the rules). So after many hours of painful deliberations, here are the stories I nominated:

"The Cockaigne Poet Speaks of the Lackey King" by Toiya Kristen Finley
"L'Alchimista" by N.K. Jemisin
"The Night-Soil Boys" by Barth Anderson

It was a hard decision to narrow it down to these three, but I think they best fit the criteria of the award, and I wish Toiya, Nora and Barth all the best of luck.

***

In a tangentially related topic, at Quail Ridge last week, I came across a couple copies of McSweeney's issue 11, in leatherbound hardcover, still shrinkwrapped. Here's the info from Timothy McSweeney's Purchasing Harangue:

Issue 11 features contributions by many of your favorite McSweeney's writers, as well as a chorus of new voices. Contributors include: Tom Bissell, Sean Warren, Samantha Hunt, Robert Olmstead, T.C. Boyle, David Means, Doug Dorst, Joyce Carol Oates, A.G. Pasquella, Brent Hoff, Stephen Elliott, Daphne Beal, Denis Johnson, and many others.
This issue comes complete with a letters section and an interview with prominent scientists, in this case with those investigating the recently found colossal squid, the largest known to man.
Issue 11 also comes with a FREE DVD featuring readings by most of the contributors, a "Literary Cribs" episode starring Jonathan Ames, Eggers interviewing Denis Johnson, Daphne Beal singing in Nepali, and an intern talking about how writers like their coffee. An instant classic of the DVDs-attached-to-literary-quarterlies genre.

The issue also includes last year's Fountain Award winner, "The Specialist" by Alison Smith.

On both the McSweeney's site and on Amazon.com, the book is being offered for $28. But the first person to email me and ask for the book will get it for $20. That's right, an $8 savings, 29% off. Why am I doing this? Because everyone should be exposed to this wonderful literary journal, and the 19th Century quirkiness of Dave Eggers' editorial style.

***

In a non-tangentially related topic, asymptotic really, Catherynne M. Valente, author of the gorgeously surreal novel The Labyrinth, is now writing an online serial novel called The Ice Puzzle, a modern retelling of The Snow Queen, accessed through subscription. She's trying to raise enough money to move back to the US from Japan, since the Navy (which employs her husband) is being rather unhelpful regarding moving expenses. She's also doing it so that she'll be able to bring her dog Sage over as well, which will be fairly expensive by itself. And she's donating 10% of the proceeds to tsunami relief.

All she's asking for is a $10 donation (you can give more if you want), and in return you'll get to read a novel over six months, with a new instalment (illustrated by Aaron Acevedo) going up each Monday night. The first chapter went up today, and it's a fantastic example of what's to come. The prose is not so frantically image-heavy as The Labyrinth, but it still sings with melody. You really should join in the fun.

Now Reading:
The Art of Happiness by His Holiness the Dalai Lama
and Howard C. Cutler

Stories Out to Publishers:
9

Books Read This Year:
2

Zines/Graphic Novels/Fiction Mags Read This Year:
1

weekend update

jelundberg@nc.rr.com — Mon, 10 Jan 05 12:40:00 UT

Welcome to Weekend Update. This your host, J. Wombat Fishbone.

And now for today's stories, in detail.

New TCP Book Almost Ready for Printing

In a garish press conference yesterday to a crowd of nearly a hundred reporters from various news agencies all over the world, Two Cranes Press announced that its eagerly-awaited new publishing venture â Off the Map, a perfect-bound four-story chapbook by Big Fish author Daniel Wallace â is in the final layout stages and should be going to press in a week. As of this writing, they will be using Chapel Hill Press for all printing and binding services. Two Cranes Press co-publisher Jason Erik Lundberg assured the excited members of the press that their website will be updated soon to include a page for this new book, which will have information on content, reviews and ordering. Lundberg will accompany Wallace to two scheduled readings at the beginning of March, armed with shock stick if the swarms of rabid fans become too over-zealous.

Artist Donates Proceeds to Tsunami Relief, World Follows

World-renowned visual artist Janet Chui shocked the art world a week ago by placing several original paintings and prints up on eBay, with almost all of the proceeds from sales going to relief organizations devoted to the countries devastated by the recent Indian Ocean tsunami. "I'm going to cover the cost of materials, but the rest of the money will go toward helping those affected by this terrible tragedy," Chui said to The New York Times over the weekend. Taking Chui's example to heart, artists all over the world have donated their work to the same end, a show of solidarity. However, some artists have taken to one-upsmanship, donating more than their competitors in order to show what a good person they are. Heinz Skizvelvet, the controversial "organic decay" performance artist, sold all of his possessions, including his $1.5 million house. He is now living under a bridge somewhere in Chicago, and was unavailable for comment.

Two-Minute Wombat Reviews

Finding Neverland is a wonderful movie about imagination and the power of writing. The film is about J.M. Barrie, the author of Peter Pan, and how his interaction with a young widow and her four boys changed the way he saw the world. Johnny Depp brings a bravura performance as Barrie (even briefly recounting his role as Captain Jack Sparrow in a colorful pirate scene), and Freddie Highmore was an incredible talent as Peter Llewelyn Davies. A film at times touching and sad and wonderful, a fantastic exploration on the unseen magic in everyday life, it nearly brought this reviewer to tears.

In the other corner is Mike Judge's Office Space, which this reviewer saw on DVD with friends in Carrboro on Saturday evening after dinner at the airy and organically-minded Weaver Street Market. Based on a series of cartoon shorts called "Milton," Office Space explores the angst and ennui of working in a corporate cubicled environment, and the absurdities and beaucracy inherent to such a place. Ron Livingston (Swingers, Sex and the City) as Peter Gibbons is fed up with working at such a restrictive and mind-numbing job, and after a session of accidental hypnotherapy which seems to bring an enlightened ecstasy, he finds that his day-to-day hassles just aren't worth it anymore. The film showcases Judge's trademark sense of humor and keen timing, as well as the quirky characters we've come to expect from Beavis and Butthead and King of the Hill, and it's a comedy well worth seeing for those stuck in their own cubicular existences.

Now Reading:
Reasons to Live by Amy Hempel
Pook's Original Miscellany by Heather Shaw & Tim Pratt

Stories Out to Publishers:
9

Books Read This Year:
1

Zines/Graphic Novels/Fiction Mags Read This Year:
0

lovely agony

jelundberg@nc.rr.com — Tue, 4 Jan 05 15:00:00 UT

A lovely early review of Scattered, Covered, Smothered from Rick Kleffel at The Agony Column, excerpted here:

Let's dip right in to today's must-buy first selection: the absolutely delectable Scattered, Covered, Smothered (Two Cranes Press; December 2004; $9.99) edited by Jason Erik Lundberg. I first heard about this while poking about one of Jeff VanderMeer's discussion boards, but Jason contacted me and sent me a copy of what could easily be one of the smartest, coolest and best anthologies to show up in 2004. Scattered, Covered, Smothered is an anthology of "food and fiction" â a sort of cookbook of short stories, with a few recipes laced between and scattered within the fiction. You'll note from the cover scan the gorgeous picture and the ingenious spiral binding [though technically the binding is twin-loop wiro âJEL]. Ingenious because it both mocks a cookbook and offers some very cost-effective small-press publishing. [We weren't actually mocking cookbooks, but paying tribute to them. âJEL] This boils down to: you get a lot for your money. I frankly can't believe that Jason's selling this for ten bucks. You better run to get your copy, because it's surely going to sell out. Buy it from his website directly, or go to your local independent and make them order one up; chances are they'll order more and those who get them will quickly re-stock.
But don't think that this is a cheap-out. Scattered, Covered, Smothered sports a classy design within and the pages are nicely printed. The writers include the ever-entertaining and auto-buy guy Rhys Hughes (A New Universal History of Infamy and Bouffant Terrible), speculative fiction poet Bruce Boston, Jeff VanderMeer, Des Lewis and more than I can possibly recount in this article. Accordingly, you'll find a variety of styles within. You'll find prose-poetry reminiscent of classic Clark Ashton Smith in "The Cockaigne Poet Speaks of the Lackey King" by Toiya Kristen Finley. Rhys Hughes chimes in with a number of entertaining poems. There's oddball short speculative fiction â horror, humor, science fiction and surreal weirdness, exemplified by "The Apocalypse and Then Oyster Loaf" by Kevin James Miller, "How to Cure an Iron Skillet" by Luna Black and "Mallory's Quick-Quick Seduction Cookies" by Mark Teppo. And of course, there are recipes, both serious â "Prune Chicken" by Elizabeth A. Jasper â and not-so-serious â "Bitter Pudding: A Recipe for Women" by Dominick Cancilla. I suspect that most of my readers who even think they might be interested in such an item will find themselves utterly thrilled with the actual book. This is one of those rockin' really weird Rick-books that you simply must run out and buy. Wave it in the face of your roommate/partner/significant other/co-workers. Buy two and wear one like a hat. It's that's good.

I mean, I'm just blushing after that. We actually had four sales yesterday, one of which was specifically because of this review. Rick emailed to point me towards the link, and also to mention that he's trying to squeeze in a more in-depth review for the next issue of Cemetery Dance. I hope the other reviewers I sent copies to have such a positive reaction.

I just finished ripping all of Neil Gaiman's spoken word CDs onto my iPod, after wanting to hear Snow Glass Apples at work this morning. I need to finish ripping songs from my voluminous CD collection so that I can sell the ones I don't want sometime soon.

And now, I'm going to start back work on Off the Map, which I neglected whilst we were finishing up the anthology. Ta.

Now Reading:
What the Buddha Taught by Walpola Rahula

Stories Out to Publishers:
9

Books Read This Year:
0

Zines/Graphic Novels/Fiction Mags Read This Year:
0