Author: Trace

Mr. B is Cute and Online!

Mr. B had his portrait painted by an artist, a person he’s never met! Ahh, the magic of the internet.

The talented artist, Karen Schmidt, has a blog called Send Me Your Head, which is just what it sounds like. Send Karen a headshot, and you may get to see it transformed into a painting.
Apparently, Karen is attempting to complete a portrait a day, which is a mighty undertaking. The procrastinating writer could learn a thing or two about dedication from this…

The truly amazing thing is that the portraits are 3″ x 3″ in size. How does she do that?
In the photo I sent, Mr. B was actively channeling David Tennant, of recent Dr. Who fame, who is one his favorite actors (and mine).

Less bad, more good

Well, I did it; I broke down and went to the doctor. Aside from the cost, I just dislike going for medical help. I’d rather take care of myself, be all holistic and stuff. That usually translates into weeks of illness, but luckily only once or twice a year. This year has been no different. After two weeks of coughing, part of which included being unable to speak for days, and feeling poorly, I gave in. Now I’ve got antibiotics and nasal spray and pills galore.

Consequence? Feeling less bad, but still not great. Not exactly how I wanted to spend my week off.
The ever-present, silver-lining analysis is that I got to finish Ian McDonald’s The Broken Land in record time because I’ve been lounging around reading, in addition to watching the extended versions of The Lord of the Rings DVD set and most episodes of Firefly. And eating ramen.
Today, I got up off the couch and cleaned my desk! Woo! Then I jumped on the computer and did my best to whip three other people into action on an academic manuscript we’ve been aggressively procrastinating with for almost a year. It occurred to me that my timetable for completing the job before summer is fairly short, and after summer, I don’t plan to care about academic garbage for a long while.
It has been a pretty good day.

A Clarion West Reading List

Hooray for Spring Break! Now I can tackle more of my reading list for Clarion West more effectively. The instructors, of course, are Michael Bishop, Maureen McHugh, Nnedi Okorafor, Graham Joyce, Ellen Datlow and Ian McDonald.

I’ve finished Maureen McHugh’s China Mountain Zhang, her first novel and an engrossing multi-perspective future piece. The short version: China basically runs the world after a revolution in the U.S., and we’ve colonized Mars with climate-controlled habitat domes. But that’s not what it’s about. It’s a character-driven story, and I loved those characters. I didn’t want the book to end.
I’m now reading Ian McDonald’s The Broken Land, which is probably set in one of the weirdest future Earths I’ve ever read. I’m not sure I can adequately describe it in brief! It has compelling characterization, too, but I’m most intrigued by the fluid manner in which McDonald switches from third to second person, from past to present tense, as suits the scene, often in mid-scene or even mid-sentence. It feels unexpected and sometimes jarring but always appropriate.
The rest of the list:
  • Eyes of Fire, Michael Bishop
  • The Shadow Speaker, Nnedi Okorafor
  • Requiem, Graham Joyce
  • Speaking in Tongues, Ian McDonald
  • Stolen Faces, Michael Bishop
  • Desolation Road Ian McDonald
  • King of Morning, Queen of Day, Ian McDonald
I’d like to add some more of McHugh, Joyce and Okorafor’s works to the list; this was just what I was able to get at my local used book store and on paperbackswap.com. Randy Henderson, a Clarion West 2009 grad, has suggested that folks also look at the Nebula Awards Showcase for 2009, edited by Ellen Datlow. I’ve been looking over some of Datlow’s horror editing, but horror is really not my genre at all.

In Which the SIlence is Lifted

At least, the Clarion West “radio silence” is over. I can officially announce my acceptance, not that I’ve been as quiet as I should have been (it’s really difficult). Shout it from the rooftops! Except I still can’t talk above a whisper without strain. Argh! Oh, wait. I can’t even say “argh.”

When I applied last year to the Clarion West Writers Workshop, I took two “bathroom mirror” photos of myself, one with the Acceptance Face that can be seen here, and the Rejection Face, which I was too deflated to use in my 2009 rejection post. Don’t ask why. If you’ve played the Clarion waiting game, you probably know that it has serious side effects on your sanity. The photo’s a little myspace-ish, but what the heck.
The stupified expression I’m sporting in the photo is appropriate, as it turns out. When I got the call, my brain turned to mush and made me incoherent. I’d gone for a walk and left my phone at home, and there was a voicemail waiting from Seattle when I returned. I called back immediately without collecting my thoughts, which may not have helped matters anyway. Enter the gibbering idiot. I probably said “wow” and “thank you” about ten times each and failed to process much of what was being said on the other end, except the part about acceptance. Yikes! I’m glad to know I’m not alone in this instant moron reaction, as a few of my future classmates have expressed the same.
While waiting to share the news, I have to say that my overall response to this turn of events has not been quite what I expected. Instead of triumph and elation, I think the word for what I’m feeling comes somewhere between anticipation and terror. Kinda like I felt right before walking down the aisle at my wedding. Attending the workshop involves sacrifice, not just a financial one and not just on my part; plus, it’s an opportunity that, I think, comes with a certain kinda price tag, an obligation to live up to the faith being placed in me, both during and after. Most importantly after. I hope I can, more than anything.
Needless to say, I’m already planning what to pack.
EDIT: Oops. I didn’t apply to Clarion West in 2009. Rather, I applied to Clarion (San Diego), which is a whole different workshop. Maybe I am a little giddy after all.

Happy Ostara, Everyone!

Today is the Spring Equinox in the western hemisphere, also known as Ostara. One of the aspects of Earth-based practice I enjoy most is the idea that for half of the year, we are celebrating growth of the new (including ideas) and harvest, while the other half we are letting go of that which does not serve. It’s a good, balanced philosophy that works toward wholeness and always inspires me as a writer.

Here’s a meditation in observance, from T. Thorn Coyle.
“We are the coming together of disparate things.
We are the opening dawn of a new spring.
Oh radiant light that burns in each heart, fill us with the power of desire. Oh radiant light, that burns in each mind, teach us to know, clearly, what we seek. Oh radiant light that burns in each now, show us how to lead the way to justice and to beauty. Let us be on fire, like burning suns and stars. Let us shine, giving glimmering hope to that which has been heretofore obscured.
The fertile darkness opens to receive the sun. Something new is growing, bursting through fresh earth.”

A Silence Descends (for now)

I have no voice! In more ways than one. This is extremely hard on me as a super-jabber type. Yesterday was another complete waste due to this awful throat infection. I got out of the house briefly to go to my book club, but I really shouldn’t have because now my voiced is tapped out.

Overall, I feel somewhat better. This improved vigor is dampened, however, by the release of the latest round of rejections from Clarion West. I’ve been getting to know these hard-working, bright people who seem to have a lot in common with me (for one, a lot of them teach = much respect). Speaking from last year’s experience, rejection is hard to take when you’ve pinned your hopes and plans for the future, or at least your summer, on something that may not happen. And, unfortunately, the kindly worded rejection doesn’t shed much light on the reason your work wasn’t selected.
After the rejection I got last year, I did some real soul-searching in order to determine for myself the extent to which “the Clarion dream” was just a foolish fantasy (for me). Did my work merit the time the readers put into it? What did it lack? What could I do better? What books should I read to improve? And worst of all, should I just give it up?
For me, anyway, the answers to most of the questions didn’t matter. I had done all I could at that point, except work more consistently. As for the last one, writing is important enough to me that I won’t be stopping.
To my fellow hopefuls, please take heart. Don’t stop. Not ever.

(More) Whining, groaning, sniffling


Ugh. I am so sick. I knew I was sick on Tuesday morning, but instead of staying home like a good girl, I went on a field trip to Animal Kingdom with Mr. B’s homeschoolers’ group. I thought I would faint half the time we were there, but the kids had a great time, and I just collapsed after I got back home. I couldn’t/wouldn’t move this morning (and didn’t even get out of bed until noon); I had to cancel my classes, again. Luckily, I could email and call and take care of the details without getting out of bed. Thank Gods for smart phones. Poor Mr. B had to get his own cereal and entertain himself (which isn’t hard for him, fortunately).

In better news, I got the first issue of my Locus subscription today, good stuff. Dense. I flipped through and set it down for further reading when my brain comes back online.
I’ve been working on my Clarion West reading list. I finished Maureen McHugh’s China Mountain Zhang a few days ago, and I truly enjoyed it. I may write a little review sooner or later (like I said, when brain function returns). I started Ian McDonald’s The Broken Land a bit ago, but at some point I sat in front of the laptop and started watching The Guild and couldn’t stop.
Bleh. Hope I feel better tomorrow. Today feels wasted.

The View From Here (in which some whining is heard)


It’s been raining for two days straight, and I feel like I’m going to sink down into depression if it doesn’t stop. The weather has that effect on me. It’s a good thing I don’t live in the Northwest or in England, or some other place where it rains or looks overcast all the time. This drives the Florida girl crazy.

At least the cabbage plants (on the far right) enjoy the rain. They have been growing steadily and forming nice, firm heads without any effort from me whatsoever. The mustard (in the foreground) have finally bolted so maybe next week I can collect seeds.

Mr. B has an earache, and now he’s watching Race to Witch Mountain over and over. Ugh. There’s only so much I can take of Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson, explosions, and so on.

I’m also pacing and then leaping to the phone every time it rings, in hopes that it’s Clarion calling. Sigh. I said I wouldn’t freak out this year, but as time passes, I’ve become more agitated.

All Quiet (Except for Godzilla)

The Internets are atwitter with news that a gobbet of rejection flew out of Clarion (San Diego) in the past twenty-four hours, but as for me, no news from Clarion West yet. I feel weirdly blocked during the wait. I haven’t written anything since the deadline for submission passed on March 1.

I know I should be doing the opposite, writing like crazy to stave off the anxiety, but it seems I’d rather not think about it at all. If I don’t think about it, the rejection won’t arrive, or something like that.

Plus, it’s a little hard to concentrate with Mr. B sick (again); he’s curled up on the couch watching Godzilla: Tokyo SOS over and over. Now, if I was writing a giant monster story, that would make a great writing soundtrack, but…