Tropism

Forthright

tim[at]tropismpress.com — Thu, 3 Jul 08 13:48:00 UT

Happy July! Submit stories to Flytrap! (I've gotten some, rejected some, put some others aside to think on, let some sit unread in the inbox, for now. I need more!)

I took part in a roundtable discussion with fellow urban fantasy authors Kelley Armstrong, Keri Arthur, and Jenna Black. It appeared in the first issue of Spectra Pulse and now it's online. Go read! (I'd really like to write a Marla Mason prequel novella, about her rise to power, if I can find someone to publish it. Always tricky with novellas. I have some cool ideas about it though.)

We went to Whole Paycheck last night. Nice store, hadn't been to that particular branch before, very shiny. Got dinner there -- a wonderful sweet smoky pulled pork sandwich for me, crab cake sandwich for Heather. We also bought random stuff like truffle oil and odd cheeses and other stuff. Not a place I'd go for regular shopping -- we spent over a hundred bucks and walked out with only two sacks of groceries -- but it's fun for splurgy or oddball things. We've been eating well lately. Our tentative plan is to buy more buffalo steak this weekend and cook 'em up at Holly's at some point over the holiday weekend. My pan-seared-with-wine-sauce preparation worked out so well I'm willing to cook it for people who aren't married to me... And at some point in our near future I will make truffle macaroni and cheese. Mmm. I can taste the decadence. If that level of pleasure is indicative of civilization in decline, sign me up.

Have a good weekend, all, especially my fellow Americans for whom it's a long weekend. (Which excludes the ones working retail and food service and other such jobs, I know -- I worked my share of holiday weekends, and hated them all. At least things will explode in the sky for your amusement!)

The Deliciousness!

tim[at]tropismpress.com — Mon, 30 Jun 08 21:21:00 UT

Pretty good weekend. We hit the farmer's market on Saturday morning, where we bought lamb sausage and buffalo steaks, both of which are still to be eaten in my future, YUM. And we splurged on some good Kona coffee. (We also bought fruits and veggies and such of course, but coffee and meat are my department.) Then we did River's last swim lesson (for this series of lessons, anyway -- when he's a bit older we'll enroll him in the next course). He had a fantastic time. Saturday night dear Amelia came over and babysat for us, so Heather and I could stroll to the Parkway and see Iron Man, which I quite enjoyed. (I also enjoyed the pizza and three pints of beer! We drank a pitcher and then went back for more!) After we got home and bid Amelia farewell we watched the new Futurama movie, The Beast with a Billion Backs, which I liked, though not as much as Bender's Big Score. It was movielicious!

Sunday we worked on stuff around the house a bit, and in the afternoon went to my boss's house for his birthday party. Barbecued meat and good company and champagne and etc. -- all very nice, though we couldn't stay too long, since the baby's bedtime is seven. We took him home, put him to bed, and watched some episodes of Doctor Who. Thank goodness Stephen Moffatt episodes appeared on the Tivo. That Agatha Christie episode was dire. You'd think an episode dedicated to an author known for her tight plots would have featured a plot that, oh, made a single shred of sense. Ah well. The library two-parter was much better.

It was back to the A Certain Magazine mines today, where I wrestled with configuring a wireless router and did some layout and researched dead people and so on. The usual. Nice weather out on the deck for my break, at least. And a long weekend to look forward to! Wonder if we'll be able to see fireworks from the balcony on Friday night... hmm...

Later: I made pan-seared buffalo steak with a red wine sauce. Holy crap that was good. I'm going to do it again only next time with more buffalo. Heather loved it too, really loved it, and she's not usually down with the bison.

Dinner's over. Sadness! After weeks of relaxing (read: slacking off), I'm going to start writing fiction again... now.

The Whole World

tim[at]tropismpress.com — Fri, 27 Jun 08 12:24:00 UT

Last night just as I was going to bed (around 10:30 pm, because the boy usually wakes around 5 am), the INCREDIBLY LOUD fire alarms went off in our building. We woke the baby, threw on some clothes, and went down the stairs to the street. There was clearly no fire, and only about a third of the residents bothered coming out, but we've got a baby, so better safe and so on. River was pretty freaked out and cranky at being awakened. The fire department showed up (after, like, 20 minutes) and discovered that somebody had messed up a sprinkler, which set off the alarms. We got the all-clear to go back inside, and with much effort got the kid back down to sleep about quarter after 11. Which would've been fine... except the alarms kept going off again and again, at random intervals, for durations ranging from a couple of seconds to a couple of minutes. It finally stopped about ten minutes after midnight, as I saw the last fire truck drive away -- they must have been testing the system or something heinously annoying like that.

Despite being awake (and eating!) so late, the kid still woke up at 5:30 am. I was one grumpy dude when I got up, y'all. Five hours of sleep does not a happy Tim make. I was also dreading all the physical work I knew I had to do at the day job -- it's summer, and that means trimming back trees and putting down tarps to catch rotting plums and other sweaty outdoor crap. (Yes, being a "senior editor" involves getting on rooftops and chopping tree branches, for me, anyway. It's a strange life.) So I was pretty grouchy, though the kid was cheerful, at least.

Terry Pratchett wrote once about how humans never live in the present; we're temporally-fuzzy blobs of thinking about the past and worrying about/hoping for the future. I often find myself in just such a mental state. I was definitely feeling that way this morning -- resentful about stolen sleep from the night before, cranky about work I hate in the future. (Though I don't hate my day job at all in a general sense -- I love working on the magazine. I could do without all the non-magazine-related stuff I have to do though.)

Then I read this xkcd comic, which led me to this video, and I got cheered up, and started singing improvised lyrics to the song and dancing around with my kid, and the morning got a whole lot nicer. Sometimes it's good to live in the present. I'm going to work on that.

Boomdeyada!

(Oh: Heather uploaded more lovely baby pictures! Also some video!)

5 o'clock and All's Well

tim[at]tropismpress.com — Wed, 25 Jun 08 07:24:00 UT

Okay y'all -- I'm the prize for blogging about the Strange Horizons fund drive this week. Well, you don't get *me*. But you get a couple of my books... and a one-of-a-kind story written specifically for this fundraiser. You get the only copy. (Don't expect a novella or nothin', but it'll be neat.) So go forth and spread the word. SH needs your support.

Reviewer Mentatjack is going to do a giveaway of the first two Marla Mason novels.

This is cool -- an illustration for my article "Heroines I Have Known", drawn by Andrew DeGraff. Article (and illo) will be in the next issue of SpectraPulse later this year.

Oof. So tired. Baby got me up at 5 and it's been a rough morning. (Based on his screaming and unwillingness to eat much of anything, I'm guessing he's teething again.) Gotta take him to the doctor in a couple of hours for a pre-checkup checkup. (His pediatrician has to sign off that he's in good health before the other doctors can put him under anesthesia in a couple of weeks.) I was thinking we'd take a little stroll around Piedmont Ave. after the appointment, but it's fairly gray and nasty in the outside world today, so maybe not so much. I have a little freelance work to do today, too, but otherwise, no commitments. I should commit a bit of fiction though.

Various Bottles

tim[at]tropismpress.com — Mon, 23 Jun 08 09:33:00 UT

And... I'm officially out of stories. Just sold the last one I had, a metafictional fantasy called "Her Voice in a Bottle," to Bill Schafer at Subterranean. It looks likely that my short SF story "On a Blade of Grass" (which he bought last week) will go out to subscribers of the SubPress newsletter (so you'd best sign up -- just plug in an e-mail address, the signup is down in the right-hand sidebar), while "Her Voice in a Bottle" will be in the online magazine proper. All subject to change etc. It's been a joy selling stories to this market -- I submitted the story yesterday afternoon and got accepted less than 24 hours later. Life is good!

Clearly I need to write more short fiction, though. I'm still working on the Simulation story. It's going well, but I took the weekend off work (except for necessary freelancing) to go down to Santa Cruz. Heather and our boy were in Indiana seeing my mother-in-law this weekend, and in order to stave off crushing loneliness, I visited my friends Scott and Lynne.

Santa Cruz was great, though we were close enough to the wildfires to see smoke in the sky (so many bad fires already this year, and so early in the season, it's troubling) and bizarrely unseasonable weather (rain, in June, which was weird enough! But actual thunderstorms too! With lightning causing more fires, natch). Highlights include many many good meals, lots and lots of beer and wine, great conversation, and a party at a very cool house by the river, up a hill so steep we rode a tram to get to the top. (There were stairs to the top, but confronted with the choice of a zillion switchbacking stairs or a tram, the choice was clear.) I got home in early afternoon on Sunday, did a little work, and went to see The Incredible Hulk, which I enjoyed -- good smashing!

I picked up Heather and River at the airport a bit after 11, and what with waiting for bags and such we didn't get home until after midnight. Put the baby to bed and dove for bed myself, and managed to get almost a full five hours of sleep before the kid woke me up! But I didn't mind. The chance to play with him after missing him for days was worth a little sleep deprivation.

Portals of Solitude and Hate

tim[at]tropismpress.com — Tue, 17 Jun 08 12:25:00 UT

(Heh, I love a good ridiculously overwrought journal title.)

I played Portal yesterday, for a couple of hours before work and a few hours in the evening, and finished it. Awesome, awesome game. I wish I had a portal gun. It would make life so much more interesting. (Though I'd be even fatter than I am now, since it would cut down on the considerable amount of walking I do if I could teleport from my balcony to the lake or the grocery store or the farmer's market or whatever.)

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Wah! Heather and River are leaving for Indiana in two days! I will be so lonely! (In fact, to prevent extreme loneliness, I'm hanging out with friends a lot this weekend. Which will help, but... three days away from my baby? I've survived stretches away from Heather many times, but never River!)

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Here's someone who really hated Blood Engines and quit reading it after a hundred pages. (They do have good taste in covers, as they like Dan's artwork.) Can't argue with the problems they have with my protagonist -- she is cataclysmically bitchy, deliberately so, and she's intentionally unglamorous. Her character definitely rubs some readers the wrong way. (Though a reader who doesn't like the bits of the book with the sex party and the pornomancer is probably a reader I'm never going to win over anyway -- that's my favorite part of the novel.) This is a book that consistently seems to get "I LOVED IT!" or "I HATED IT" rather more than "Eh, it was okay." Which is good. Strong reactions are better than indifference.

Sundae Sunday

tim[at]tropismpress.com — Mon, 16 Jun 08 06:09:00 UT

Good news on Father's Day -- my story "On a Blade of Grass," sold to Bill Schaefer at Subterranean magazine. (Total time from submission to getting paid: about 3 days.) I've been impressed by the magazine, from its initial print incarnation to its newer online form, and I'm really happy to be part of it. It's the only story I've written this year, so I'm glad it has a home. It's an actual science fiction story, too. With, like, scientific speculation. Not very rigorous speculation, maybe, but nevertheless, it's weird for me to be writing stories about parasitology and interstellar war instead of, like, manticores and harpies and stuff.

I'm about 3,000 words into what we might as well call my Simulation story, and I think it'll end up being about twice that length, just shy of novelette territory. (Unless I get longwinded.) And it's also science fiction. I don't know what's gotten into me lately.

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Sent off checks for my quarterly taxes today. Bye bye, savings account! It was nice knowing you!

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For Father's day, Heather got me a t-shirt with a bear on it (rawr) and set up a ludicrously extravagant sundae bar. Two kinds of whipped cream, three kinds of chocolate sauce, cherry pie filling, maraschino cherries, caramel sauce, sprinkles, nuts, cake, cookies, assorted ice creams... it was insane. In the best possible way. If I'd known fatherhood came with so much ice cream, I would've signed up earlier...

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Flytrap #10 will be accepting fiction and non-fiction submissions from July 1 to August 15. Guidelines are here. Wow me, people!

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On a sadder note, we went to see Susan and Matt for one last time yesterday afteroon (well, in California -- it's not like we won't see them at conventions and on visits and so forth). We're going to miss them a lot. The west coast is a little less fun today.

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River can drink out of a sippy cup all by himself! With minimal upside-down-water-pouring-everywhere-ness!

Over a Barrel

tim[at]tropismpress.com — Thu, 12 Jun 08 11:24:00 UT

Nick Mamatas is offering to critique manuscripts extensively for low low prices (couple bucks a page). He's a very astute critic. If you're looking for that kind of service, check him out.

Superpowers by David J. Schwartz is out! (It has been for a few days, but I've been busy.) Of the crop of recent superhero novels, this is the one I thought had the most heart and ambition. Check it out.

Over at SF Signal's latest Mind Meld, various people were asked to speculate about Tomorrow's Big Genre Stars, and a couple of people were kind enough to mention my name. I'm even included in the list of "The Top 21 Genre Authors To Keep an Eye On," which places me in some rather exalted company (including some people I tend to think of as rather established -- national bestsellers, people who've published a bazillion books, etc. But the definition of "new" writer is always pretty thorny. I've quite enjoyed being a new writer these past 9 years, since I published my first small-press fiction -- though to be fair I published my first story professionally only six years ago, and I was well below the radar even for most hardcore genre fans until I won the Hugo last year). As these things will, the list is generating a lot of discussion, at that page and elsewhere, so join in! Any way you slice it, there are some awesome writers working today, and many of them are young and new enough that we can look forward to years and years and years of good stuff from them.

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Yesterday we engaged the fabulous Mya to sit on our baby for us, and headed up to Napa with Susan and Matt, who are soon to abandon us for more humid pastures in New York. They wanted to say a fond farewell to wine country ("But there are wineries on Long Island!"), and were kind enough to invite us along. We hit a couple of their favorite wineries and had lunch at their favorite restaurant up there (no hardship, as they are people of good taste), and, well, let's just say I was drunk before noon on a Wednesday, which is not a typical experience for me. The barrel tasting (mmm, barrels) was especially nice, even if we did get kicked out before we had a chance to sample everything, on account of the winery's CEO showing up with friends in tow. (On the plus side, they gave us a high-end bottle of wine as an apology for the inconvenience, and we drank the hell out of it at lunch.) The grounds of the Chandon winery were especially gorgeous, though their tastings are overpriced. Conn Creek wins for yumminess, though. Naturally, we returned home with a few bottles, just in time to say hi to River and give him a bath and play with him a bit before putting him to bed. (As an aside, he slept the whole night through, from 7 p.m. to 6 a.m., which was wonderful. He's been waking and bellowing at 2 or 3 in the morning every day for the past week. Mmm, uninterrupted precious sleep.)

So, you know, life is good. Going back to work today was a bit disorienting though.

Cast Your Pods Where Ye May

tim[at]tropismpress.com — Mon, 9 Jun 08 21:17:00 UT

Podcasty goodness for you all! First, Mur Lafferty interviewed me for her I Should Be Writing podcast. I have not listened to it, because, as I may have mentioned, the sound of my own recorded voice makes me wish to shove icicles into my ears, but I had a blast talking to Mur, and you should check it out. My story "The Frozen One" has been recorded for audio at the Beam Me Up podcast, and I haven't listened to that either, because the sound of my own fiction being read aloud makes me wish to shove icicles etc. But, enjoy! The story (which starts about 40 minutes into the podcast) was written as a monologue to be read aloud -- and I performed it as such many times -- so it's kinda back in its native habitat.

Here's a review of Poison Sleep by Steven Klotz, who's, uh, in my World of Warcraft guild, but who is also a reviewer of many fine things. (And I'm utterly useless to my guild, being almost entirely a solo casual player, so it's not like he has any reason to say nice things other than actually liking the books.)

Life of Leisure

tim[at]tropismpress.com — Fri, 6 Jun 08 11:51:00 UT

I took the week off from writing. It was... strange, having so much free time. I read Swanwick's The Dragons of Babel (good); watched some movies (Waitress, Cloverfield, liked both); set up the web pages for Flytrap #9, sent out the issues to subscribers, contributers, etc; finished playing Bioshock; played the Penny Arcade video game; played some World of Warcraft; took walks; played with my kid; did more cooking than usual; got ahead on my freelance work; cleaned house more than usual... All pleasant, but I was reminded that I like working -- I like the feeling of having accomplished something, and only writing fiction seems to provide the right kind of buzz. So, next week, I'll start working on some short stories.

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I started Twittering a little because, eh, why not?

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The Strange Horizons fund drive is happening! Go donate! Support awesome free fiction, poetry, and etc.! Get prizes! (Some of which were donated by us.)

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Shaun Farrell of Singularity Audio, one of the good guys of podcasting, is offering a variety of services to help authors (and others) reach their audience, through book promos, easy podcast solutions, and etc. Check him out.

Flytrap 9 Available

tim[at]tropismpress.com — Tue, 3 Jun 08 13:47:00 UT

I finally updated the Tropism Press website, so you can order issue #9, and read Nick Mamatas's latest "Life Among the Obliterati" column: "The Ragged Edge".

Magic!

tim[at]tropismpress.com — Tue, 3 Jun 08 13:11:00 UT

Yay! Sarah Prineas's book The Magic Thief is officially released today! (We snagged a copy at WisCon, but now everyone else can buy it too!) It's a super fun book with a really engaging protagonist and tons of magical fun (plus biscuits and shapeshifting). Check it out, and read it to your kids! (I will, once River's old enough to enjoy books he's not allowed to chew on.)

I'm feeling a bit burned-out on writing, so I'm pretty much taking the week off, freelance necessities aside. If I feel the urge to write fiction, I will, but I won't force it. (Naturally, since I decided this yesterday, I've been having tons of ideas for stories and for the fifth and sixth Marla books, which I really hope I get to write. In the sixth book I think Marla will go to Hawai'i. I see shark gods in her future! And, almost certainly, an encounter with my character Reva from my story "From Around Here". It would be so very awesome.) Instead of writing, I'll be trying to get the Flytrap website updated with info about the new issue, and send out contributor/review/subscriber copies by the end of the weekend!

Here's a review of Poison Sleep. ("With a headstrong protagonist, great genre sensibilities, and a story that is told briskly and very well, Pratt's Poison Sleep is thoroughly enjoyable and entertaining novel." I love reviews with quotable chunks!)

Roses, Roses, Roses

tim[at]tropismpress.com — Mon, 2 Jun 08 09:35:00 UT

Good weekend, especially Sunday. I loaded up the baby and we went for a nice long walk over to the rose garden, where everything is in bloom. Susan came over for dinner and hung out all evening, which was awesome. A beautiful day.

The kid is great -- there are new pictures, including many from Wiscon -- though he's got a new tooth coming in (his first on top) so he's a bit fussy of late.

Writing stuff:

Here's a review of Blood Engines, and another review, and an article from Library Journal about urban fantasy that mentions the book. Marla gets around...

I spent the last week line editing (and chopping five pages out of the first 17 pages, because the opening was slow) of The Light of a Better World, AKA the Bridge novel. I really love that book. It's certainly the most ambitious thing I've ever written. I hadn't looked at the thing in over a year, so it was almost like reading a novel by somebody else. It's off to my editor now, so wish it well.

This week I'm messing with my YA proposal some more, specifically the sample chapters, after getting some useful feedback. (Plus, I thought of some ways to complicate my characters' lives rather nastily, and I should get that stuff in there, don't you think?)

Life is good. Even if there's no sign of goslings around the lake yet, lazy babies...

Pressures

tim[at]tropismpress.com — Wed, 28 May 08 09:07:00 UT

Barely two months after publication, Poison Sleep has gone back for a second printing! (Quick, go buy more so they have to do a third! I can't help but think this improves my chances of actually getting to write the fifth book, which I told my editor about over the weekend... that would be awesome.)

Called in sick yesterday. I was over the worst of it -- no more puking, and I even ate oatmeal -- but let's just say proximity to my own bathroom was a definite necessity. Today is my traditional day off and I'm feeling better, though not everything is in tip-top working order yet. River's got a doctor's appointment, I need to do some porn reviews, work on line-editing The Light of a Better World, etc. Busy day.

I won't do an extensive detailed con report. (Some parts of the convention I don't wanna remember!) Suffice to say I had some great conversations, acquired some cool books (notably The Sun Inside by David Schwartz, a novella that could be called ER Burroughs fanfic, but is actually much more complex and weird and thoughtful than that suggests), sold some 'zines (we'll send subscribers their copies of Flytrap, and set up the website for ordering individual copies, in the next week or so), and drank too much (including absinthe, which is like licorice that kicks you in the head). River was the real hit of the convention, and we'll post photos once we're feeling up to it. He had various wonderful outfits, from a superhero costume (complete with cape) to a dragon cloak to overalls featuring kids and monkeys in space helmets. He charmed everybody, and as a result, he had lots of people to fly him around and talk to him, which made him happy. Our kid is a very social kid.

It would've been a great convention, I think, if not for the onset of the terrible plague.

Hope the rest of you made it home safely.

Bleargh

tim[at]tropismpress.com — Mon, 26 May 08 21:44:00 UT

Home. The convention was good... for the first couple of days. Then we got hit by the horrible vile flu that swept through the Concourse. I missed dinner with my editor for the second year in a row -- last year it was because of a delayed flight, and this year, it's because I was puking. (We did have breakfast together this morning, and by "breakfast," I mean I managed to eat a cinnamon roll and drink a little juice.) Officially the worst Wiscon ever.

Amazingly, the baby hasn't come down with it, but both Heather and I are pretty much the walking dead at this point.

I'll try to write about the non-vomitous parts of the con later this week -- at the very least I should sing the praises of our baby, who traveled amazingly well, slept through the night every night, and was basically a whirlwind of adorable charm who dazzled everyone who chanced to look upon him.