Scientifiction

Granny Fiction

Gavin Grant* has a tremendously excellent story up at Strange Horizons, "Widows in the World," which I waited to link to here until both parts were up. Part One and Part Two.

I remember hearing him read from this in a small, dark room in Glasgow** at a WorldCon years ago now and being dazzled all over again by the way he plays with language and the expected in his stories. Getting the whole of this one was well worth the wait. Happy Valentine's.

*Karen Joy Fowler has some guest entries up at the Small Beer blog, including one from today. Snippet: "A singing tree: Just west of the dog beach, along the clifftop is a Monterey pine. There are many Monterey pines along the cliff and one tries not to have favorites, but this is a very appealing tree. Today it was making a tremendous racket as I approached and I had to get quite close to understand that a congress of blackbirds was hidden among the needles, each of them shouting as loudly as possible. There were so many that if they’d all flapped their wings at once, the tree would have taken flight." Go read the rest of this too. And then read all her other entries; you will not be sorry.

**At least, I'm almost certain this is that story. I'm sure he'll let me know if I'm wrong.

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Subterranean YA Issue TOC

I think most of you know I've been working for months now on guest editing a special YA issue of Subterranean online magazine (for the *fabulous* Bill Schafer of Subterranean Press). Today I'm thrilled to finally be able to give everyone a peek at the contents and the cover (with art by Sara Turner of Cricket Press).

STP_Summer2011
Without further ado, the table of contents in alphabetical order:

“Queen of Atlantis” by Sarah Rees Brennan
“Mirror, Mirror” by Tobias S. Buckell
“Younger Women” by Karen Joy Fowler
“Their Changing Bodies” by Alaya Dawn Johnson
“The Ghost Party” by Richard Larson
“Valley of the Girls” by Kelly Link
“The Fox” by Malinda Lo  
“Seek-No-Further” by Tiffany Trent
“Demons, Your Body, and You” by Genevieve Valentine

If you think that looks awesome, wait until you read the stories. There's a little bit of everything: high fantasy, science fiction, historical, urban and contemporary fantasy. There's dark and witty and gorgeous.

Coming this summer to a web browser near you!

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Unfurl the Canvas

Sandstorm The first chapter of Christopher’s novel Sandstorm is up as a preview at Wizards of the Coast.

If you read only one D&D* novel this year, make it the one with awesome gladiators, warrior women, a city in the air, and–best of all–Nightfeather’s Circus of Wonders.

I heart this book. (And not just because my sweetie wrote it.) Out March 1!

More to come, obviously. Plannings are afoot.

*No knowledge of the game necessary, promise. If you like good high fantasy, you'll like this. And if you do have game knowledge, even better.

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A Good Year

The list of my top ten* SFF books from 2010 is now live at Locus Online. An exceptional crop of novels chosen from many exceptional novels–this was fun to put together, but also devil hard. It was a good year, and there's still plenty of things I need to get to.

But y'all go read these anyway, if you haven't, okay? They are fabulous.

*Technically I mention thirteen books (or fourteen, depending how you feel about the Willis), three of which aren't exactly SFF. But so close.

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ALA Award Yays!

This looks to be a very good year for the awards* (though I do wish One Crazy Summer had picked up the Newbery in addition to the Coretta Scott King, and know nothing about the winner except that, boy, that cover already LOOKS so Newbery).

Anyway, massive congratulations to the Printz honorees (especially A.S. King, whose stuff I adore) and to winner Paolo Bacigalupi! (He's getting way too fancy, isn't he?)

A couple of related links: my review of Ship Breaker for Subterranean Online and the interview I did with Paolo here just after the book's release. A snippet:

Now, maybe we should leave it to other people to pick apart the question of why boys are all playing Grand Theft Auto and Halo3 and Left 4 Dead, and not reading and not going on to college, but my personal sense when I look at the sorts of good, literarily respectable books that we try to convince kids to read with, is that these look sort of boring in comparison to what's happening on other media.

Congratulations to award winners, honors, and committee members who did all the hard work! Now back to playing catch-up after last week's Great and Terrible Plague.

*A more complete list with additional info in the ALA press release.

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Columbusiana & Excuses

Home from World Fantasy, but still not done with the novel. Explaining to others that you are "stuck in mid-climax" is confusing for everyone involved. So if I mumbled at you/said random things that didn't make any sense/seemed distracted and mildly crazy then it's not because I don't love you, but because interacting with others at this stage of a draft is difficult at best, unwise at worst. I did write about 5K on the road and in the hotel, and I'm *thisclose* to being done. No, really. I will finish this week. I. Will.

And the extremely wise Holly Black fixed my nutshell pitch in five minutes of gabbing, which I much appreciated. I find synopsizing PAINFUL.

The convention was a bit disorganized (we had to white out no show name badges and sharpie our names on because we registered on site–which was an adventure in and of itself), but as full of the wonderful people who are my favorites as always. Friday night we grabbed dinner with Ted Chiang (says the LA Times: "patient but ruthless"), Genevieve Valentine (whose reading the next day from her forthcoming steampunk post-apocalyptic circus novel Mechanique gave me shivers), and Kelly Barnhill (her upcoming MG looks great) at a diner called Knead that was quite good (cheesy bread!). Then we moseyed back to the mass signing and the bar where we saw lots and lots and lots of beloved people; and hey, I even got to finally meet Bill Schafer, aka the evil genius of Subterranean Press. Then I stayed up too late with Liz Gorinsky, Charlie Jane Anders and Annalee Newitz–rabble-rousers all. Saturday Christopher read from his D&D novel and the story he has in Kelly and Gavin's STEAMPUNK! YA antho from Candlewick (out next year), and that night we had dinner at Martini with Chris Barzak and Tony, Rick Bowes, Holly, Steve Berman and Dora Goss–including mozzarella made AT THE MOMENT OF ORDER and an after excursion to the world's best ice cream shop (anise and fennel seed; I shall dream of you forever). And then I stayed up way too late with a rotating cadre of peoples.

The awards yesterday were a fabulous ending to the weekend and I quibble with none of them. I was especially pleased by Susan Groppi's win for Strange Horizons (timely given today's announcement) and Karen Joy Fowler's for her brilliant story "The Pelican Bar," which I consider an instant classic.

As usual, there were many people I got to see, but not nearly enough of. Actually, scratch that, because I didn't get to see anyone enough. Far too many names to name. I miss you all terribly.

Also as usual, being surrounded by so many great people is a complete energy boost. I'm glad to be home and back at work. So now to finish this book, and juggle a carnival of other projects. Which is to say, it's likely to be thin pickings here this week and next (although a massive hangovers post is coming at some point). Ciao.

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Travails

Or hopefully just travels! I've gotten a few emails now from people wondering if we'll be at World Fantasy in lovely Columbus next weekend after spotting Christopher's name on the program. The answer is: yes! We remembered to make hotel rezzies, but kept forgetting to mail in our registration (yes, ouch, expensive now*) and so will be doing that on site. Which is why we aren't on the membership list.

Jury's still out on whether we'll arrive Thursday evening or Friday morning, but look forward to seeing some (lots?) of y'all there. Yay!

p.s. Christopher has a reading at 5 p.m. on Saturday, which as all good people know is cocktail hour. Or therebouts. You should come to that, obviously.

*If you have one to transfer because you are suddenly not going, email me pleez.

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Secret Shames (updated)

This morning Mr. Rowe took off for the Sycamore Hill Writer's Workshop to spend a week in the North Carolina mountains critiquing stories and all the other stuff writers do when they're in an isolated spot together (gossip, drink, generate funny anecdotes for later, etc.). For those of you not from the Land of Science Fiction and Fantasy (and, according to Wikipedia, Slipstream, which I think in this context probably just means psst, literary), there are several peer workshops in the field that have been going on for long enough that history and reputation accumulates around them–Syc Hill is one, Rio Hondo in Taos is another, Turkey City down in Austin and, created especially for novels, Blue Heaven in Ohio. Many fine writers go to these workshops (and lots of other workshops and retreats, of course). I've been to all these except Syc Hill, but this week I'm declaring myself an official Workshop Widow.

While Christopher's gone my big plans seem to be of the virtuous variety. I plan to write LOTS–in fact, I already got in 1400+ words on my new novel and finished a proofing project today–and make sure the dogs are relatively happy. That's about it.

I bring all this up because recently I identified a phenomenon. I first cottoned to the possible existence of said phenom in grad school, where I would depart for 10 day residencies. I would come home and find things like charge slips from Wing Zone and TGI FRIDAY'S (apparently, it's next to the Barnes and Noble, open late for paperback fantasy cravings). Perhaps The Da Vinci Code movie or The 300 would have been watched. Sub par beer in the recycling bin… I think you get the picture. Clearly, the mister felt the need to indulge cravings he doesn't even really have (except for the wings) while I was out of town.

I wondered if this was true of other guys when their wives/significant others are out of range. So I did an informal survey at Wiscon and turned up some unsurprising but hilarious data to suggest this is A THING. One friend, an acclaimed novelist and short story writer, confessed that he'd purchased BLIZZARD-FLAVORED Oreos* and a pound of bacon while his wife was at one of the workshops mentioned above. Another confessed that wings sounded very familiar indeed. The confessions kept on coming. 

None of the women I asked said they fit this pattern, though, because the stuff they did was stuff they'd also do normally.

Which brings me to the point of this post. I'm thinking I should strike a blow for the fairer sex and indulge in one SHAMEFUL, materially irredeemable activity per day. Things like going to see the new Twilight movie on opening night**, maybe? … I'm going to need to suggestions. They should probably be of the baby steps variety, as it just feels so … unseemly. (NO WINGS.)

Updated: See addendum below. Also, I am loving your suggestions and your confessions. It seems the ladies *do* indulge in such behavior, but I think the guys are still winning. Clearly, however, I need to feel MORE shame for my regular activities.

*So, after posting I remembered that he didn't actually buy the Blizzard Oreos, because they were too wrong. (Too wrong to exist, but that's another post–seriously, they taste like ice cream flavored with Oreos? What is this product? Who is it for?) He bought another variety of Oreos instead. And while I usually would come down on the thoughts don't equal actions side, for the purposes of this post I'm saying, contemplating the Blizzard Oreos alone is evidence! Plus, the bacon.

**These are not value judgments, but totally subjective. My SHAMEFUL materially irredeemable is someone else's Reason For Living.

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Capable Hands: Holly Black’s White Cat

Here is what I love most about White Cat: It's filled with surprises. 

This is, of course, the newest novel by Holly Black (Amazon | Indiebound). Long time readers know how  much I heart her books, and a new one is always, always a treat. And it's the first in a series, even better. I actually read it some time ago, and have been meaning to write about it ever since. It's a book that crawls around in your brain for weeks afterward–or it did mine anyway.Holly_black-whitecat2[1]

I'm sure you know the premise already, but just in case. White Cat features an alternate version of our world, close in many ways, but different in a major one: Magic is real, but only a small percentage of the population known as curse workers can do it. Cassel is from a family of curse workers, but isn't one. Curse work is akin to the mafia in our world, and it's accomplished through touch, which means bare hands are forbidden by society. This first in the series begins with Cassel waking up on a roof at the boarding school where he's been playing at normal, only running a light bookie racket. The implication is that he's being worked, and he finds himself obsessing over the memory of a murder, one he himself committed. The journey that follows is witty, sly, and complicated. True darkness waits in the shadows of this world, and the reader is riveted by the twin hope that Cassel will manage to both master that darkness and escape it.

I don't want to toss out spoilers, because as I've said, the surprises this book holds are one of its great pleasures. In fact, the reason I said the surprises are what I love most about it is because it gives up twists and revelations with ease. Too often writers hoard twists and reveals, as if they're afraid to spend them and must draw them out as long as possible. Here is a writer who isn't afraid to spend a twist, because she can pull off an even bigger one later in the book. A writer who isn't afraid to give you (and the character) a revelation early on rather than saving it for the end, because the character is rich enough to possess a deep well of secrets. Even the way in which the titular fairy tale is recalled and reworked is a surprise all its own.

White Cat should win the YA Edgar next year; it's a crime novel with a mystery at its heart. And I'm also hopeful that it will help reopen the way for a broader variety of contemporary YA fantasy than we've been seeing in the field recently. (I'm in for a good paranormal romance just like the next person, but there's room for so much more.)

Writers who take real chances in their work are far too rare. I bet we can all easily think of a dozen writers who seem–from the outside at least–to have identified their comfort zone and decided not to leave it. How fabulous, then, to see someone who is hugely successful still pushing the limits of their craft, willing to take on a major departure from what came before. Willing to keep surprising us. Old fans will love this, and I predict the series will draw even more new ones. IF THERE IS ANY JUSTICE IN THE WORLD.

And now, an aside: The thing about Holly is, she's just as excellent and amazing a person as a writer. And she's effortlessly smart about storytelling and writing. When she and Sarah breezed through Lexington on tour, we were talking after their event about revisions because Christopher was just getting started on his first-ever substantial revision for his first-ever novel (just turned in last week!). We came around to the subject of character and how protagonists often need a lot of work in second drafts and revisions, that they can feel like ciphers. Not quite fully formed. And Holly said something I'm sure I've heard a variation on before, but at that specific moment clicked into place, opened up something for me like a key. I'm going to now paraphrase it in an undoubtedly far less elegant way than actually said. Holly said that often happens because you're so close to the protagonist when you're first telling the story, and the protag is looking around describing what they see, discovering the world, and so they aren't present on the page yet.

This, for me, is SO TRUE. And it's so strange to realize a character isn't on the page yet sometimes, when you've been really close to them and understand them inside and out and they feel fully developed. But that's not on the page yet. What's on the page is what they see, what happens to them. So I'm now trying to pay more attention to that while drafting, but especially in early revisions. Anyway, I pass on this aside in case it is similarly revelatory to any of you.

So, White Cat. It's being published for adults in the UK, I believe, and so clearly has metric tons of cross-over potential for the adult audience. If you like dark fantasy or twisty con stories or reinvented fairy tales or, well, awesome, then give this one a try. You'll probably be surprised.

I leave you with a random lovely snippet from early in the book, when Cassel goes back to the house he grew up in:

Someone could cut through the mess in our house and look at it like one might look at rings on a tree or layers of sediment. They'd find the black-and-white hairs of a dog we had when I was six, the acid-washed jeans my mother once wore, the seven blood-soaked pillowcases from the time I skinned my knee. All our family secrets rest in endless piles.

Sometimes the house just seemed filthy, but sometimes it seemed magical. Mom could reach into some nook or bag or closet and pull out anything she needed. She pulled out a diamond necklace to wear to a New Year's party along with citrine rings with gems as big as thumbnails. She pulled out the entire run of Narnia books when I was feverish and tired of all the books scattered beside my bed. And she pulled out a set of hand-carved black and white chess pieces when I finished reading Lewis.

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Secret Lives

From Philip K. Dick's thoroughly charming author's note on his first sold story, "Roog":

"So here, in a primitive form, is the basis of much of my twenty-seven years of professional writing: the attempt to get into another person's head, or another creature's head, and see out from his eyes or its eyes, and the more different that person is from the rest of us the better. You start with the sentient entity and work outward, inferring its world. Obviously, you can't ever really know what its world is like, but, I think, you can make some pretty good guesses. I began to develop the idea that each creature lives in a world somewhat different from all the other creatures and their worlds. I still think this is true. To Snooper, garbagemen were sinister and horrible. I think he literally saw them differently than we humans did."

Snooper was PKD's dog, who became the dog in the story. Puck the Dog agrees with Snooper. That's why he sleeps, ever vigilant, next to my Buffy stake.

Is he upside down or am I?
(It's not that I can't figure out how to rotate the picture… it's that this is a Puck's eye view of the world, okay? Note: Dog decidedly unalarmed by lurking Kim Stanley Robinson and Justina Robson novels.)

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