Lake Tahoe and Squaw Valley

I went on a ski trip this weekend! It was St. Patrick's Day and the snow was melting, but we had a great time. Click the photo to see more.

Scott Smith's "The Ruins"

It's been a long time since a book made me so angry as the one I just finished.

I can't stop thinking about it, which I suppose is the sign of a successful author. And I finished it, which is usually a sign of enjoyment. I'm not compelled to finish books I hate. Yet I'm angry. I wouldn't recommend this one. I can't voice my criticism without giving spoilers, so brace yourselves. There's spoilers.

SPOILERS *** SPOILERS *** SPOILERS *** SPOILERS

This is a book about a man-eating vine. It sounds stupid, but it's surprisingly well written. This author has been compared to Stephen King, and I understand why: He can make you believe anything. Giant alien spiders that lure children into sewers? Sure. Sentient jungle plants? No problem. Scott Smith is one of those authors who brings you into the weirdness step by careful step, starting in the land of normalcy and ending in the land of lunacy. He takes you into the characters' heads in such an intimate way, you feel their terror, and their struggle with insanity as they try to comprehend the incomprehensible. This is Horror fiction.

But I felt like I was watching a train wreck. The self-absorbed idiocy of the characters had me wincing from the beginning. They harbor secret resentments towards each other. At first, I struggled to like them, because the quality of writing drew me in. They hiked into the jungle for a good reason, to find their buddy's missing brother. So what if they ignored all the classic signs of impending danger? I mean, if it were me, I would have turned back when the creepy truck driver said, "This is a bad place," and drove off in a hurry. But not everyone thinks like that.

When they became trapped on the vine-covered hilltop, surrounded by natives with pistols and arrows, I read breathlessly to find out how they would escape. They heard a cell phone ringing at the bottom of a mine-shaft. They decided to send someone down to find it. Did they check the rope? No. The rope had been sitting out in the weather for countless weeks, and no one bothered to uncoil it or test its strength. Of course, the rope broke, and we've got our first major injury. Pablo broke his spine. He's lying at the bottom of the shaft, screaming. What do the characters do? Well, they spend the entire rest of the day figuring out how to send someone else down there to bring Pablo up on a backboard. Meanwhile, they're rationing their water, the hilltop is littered with the skeletal remains of previous people who've died there, and they can't escape. WTF? I'd think they have bigger worries than the guy with a broken spine. He's already a goner. Yet the characters keep whining about how they need to get Pablo to a hospital, as if they have any way to accomplish this.

By that point (about 1/4 through the book), I knew these characters would die from terminal stupidity. Maybe Jeff, the relatively smart one who used to be an Eagle Scout, would survive. The women were annoyingly dumb. I can't stand how so many male authors write about survival situations with dumb, whiny female characters. Why not make one of the women competent? In fact, I think women are better suited to survive trauma than men. Also, resourceful characters are easier to like.

I wouldn't want any of these characters for friends. Let me tell you, this book terrified me on multiple levels. It works as a horror novel for all the good reasons. There's suspense, there's gore, there's tons of creepy scenes. And then there's the horrific idea of having to die with a group of idiots. What if you were trapped in a deadly survival situation, and your only companions want to drink tequila instead of planning a way to gather water when it rains? What if no one around you even thought about escape? What if you had to trust your life to their thoughtless non-vigilance? Scary! I get chills thinking about it. And Scott Smith made these characters very, very believable.

I came away from this book with fresh cynicism about humanity.

Before I wrap this up, I need to mention a few great ideas that never occurred to these characters. I wonder if they occured to the author.

1. My escape idea.
The natives keep watch day and night, and the vine makes an alarm noise if anyone tries to sneak past the sentries. But what about a diversion? Pablo, the guy with a broken back and hastily amputated legs, is shrieking in agony. They could drag him down the hill, let the natives shoot him to death, and flee while they're busy. Pablo would then die for a good cause instead of in vain. Okay, I'll concede that the natives might not fall for this diversion, or it may be too quick. But there's always victim #2: Eric. Eric is slowly bleeding to death from multiple self-inflicted wounds made with a dirty knife. By the second day, they all know he'll die without medical attention or food. He could martyr himself to save the rest of them. But no one thinks or suggests this idea. They discuss eating Amy's corpse on the third day, but they never discuss any practical escape attempt. Even Jeff, the former Eagle Scout, doesn't think of this. I hate them.

2. My communication idea.
The natives don't speak Spanish, which is why they were unable to warn travelers away. I don't buy this. The natives live in Mexico, and they obviously trade with Mexicans, because they have things like bicycles and T-shirts. At least one of them must speak enough Spanish to communicate. Jeff (who speaks high school level Spanish) should have tried communicating. Also, these natives are too cruel to be believed. They just let travelers wander into the vine, again and again, and hold them captive until they die. Why don't they flat-out kill them? Why do they waste resources by watching the travelers suffer in a long, drawn-out process? What if a little child or baby came with the travelers? Would an entire village--men, women, children--let a child die slowly like that? I don't believe these people.

3. My S.O.S. idea.
The vine yanks down any sign they put up. They find old S.O.S. signs hidden around the base of the hilltop, the sort of signs that might have warned them to keep away. But why don't they carve into the trunks of trees? That's what I'd do. If the vine covers their etchings, they could climb up and spend all day hacking off tree branches. That would leave some strange-looking trees, which might be enough to warn other innocent people to keep away. It might even be noticed if an airplane flies overhead.

4. My suicide idea.
Every character dies in a unique, tragic, gruesome way. By the third day, the remaining survivors (all three of them) know they're doomed. Eric skins himself alive because he's convinced the vine is inside him, Mathias gets stabbed in the heart, and the final survivor, Stacey, slits her wrists and bleeds to death. Why, oh WHY, don't any of them think to set the hilltop on fire??? They have a book of matches and a bottle of tequila. The vine recedes when it gets burnt. I'd say it's time for a Molotov cocktail and a forest fire. At least that way, they'll have saved future travelers from much pain and suffering.

Okay, I feel better now. Stay away from "The Ruins" unless you enjoy torture.

My Blog's New Look

I'm not a programmer, so I decided to go with a quick and easy blog rather than hosting it directly on my website. Here it is! And here is a very lame post.

After the Turkey Day

I hope all you American readers had a happy Thanksgiving! Heck, I hope my blog actually HAS readers ... I really don't update it often enough to get any kind of following.

I will spare you the boring details of my actual Thanksgiving with mom, dad, aunt, & grandma. I stuck around for six days, and just before I flew back to L.A., I went to my ten year high school reunion. With trepidation. I was a shy, artsy loner in high school, and my way of coping with a misspent youth was to not remember much about it. Therefore, I was worried that I wouldn't remember or recognize anyone at the reunion. I decided to go because I keep in touch via email with a few friends from high school. I also had contact with a few more people from my class of 1996 via MySpace (isn't that site amazing?). I figured if nothing else, it would be cool to blog about the experience.

You know, I'm glad I went. I didn't invent Post-it notes or anything to brag about, but I found some cool people whom I never talked to when I was in high school. Maybe we never shared classes, or maybe I was too shy. In any case, it was like meeting them for the first time, in a setting where we all had something to talk about to break the ice. There were a few people whom I remembered being friendly with, and they were as nice as I'd remembered. And what about the so-called "popular kids", the cliques? They became ordinary. Or rather, I saw them as ordinary in a concrete way for the first time. Some seemed much nicer than I remembered, which I'm sure is an aspect of my memory and not a fundamental change in their personality. I was amused by how a few people were much taller or shorter than I remembered. I have no idea what happened there. As far as location goes, I was surprised by how many stayed in New Hampshire. It's a small enough state that the borders are never more than an hour's drive, maybe two hours. I was also surprised by how many from my class became teachers. I guess that shouldn't surprise me, since we were between Harvard and Dartmouth, and New England tends to be big on education. And ten years leaves a lot of room for marriage, so quite a few people showed up with bored spouses. A few high school sweethearts got married, some pairings that seemed strange to me. I wasn't the only single there, although I thought it skewed towards women. Oh well!

One of these days, I'm going to write an article about why I don't like New Hampshire. I mean no offense to those who like it. The things that I find repulsive (statewide headlines about a telephone pole getting knocked over, for instance) are the same things that attract people to that state, in ways I understand. But there can be no doubt that I exist more easily on the West coast. The people are different, the atmosphere is different, the climate, the houses, the terrain, the wildlife, the businesses, and everything is different. I think I'm happy for the reminder every once in a while. When I went to my high school reunion, I saw a few glints of the things that irritate me about people from my home town, and I sort of breathed a sigh of relief when I got on the plane.

The Three Musketeers

Whenever I finish a book, I want to discuss it, but the urge usually goes away because I'll start a new book before I can sit down and write a well-thought out review. Lately I've been spewing out spontaneous reviews on my MySpace blog because it's convenient. Tonight I'll break the habit and spew it out here.

The only other book I've ever read by the great Alexandre Dumas is The Count of Monte Cristo. I enjoyed it enough to buy two more books by him, and considering the fact that the author died in 1870 and I usually stick to modern genre fiction, that's really saying something. If Dumas were alive today, I believe he'd regularly hit the bestseller lists.

Okay, The Three Musketeers takes place in 17th century France, so it's historical fiction written by a 19th century Frenchman. At first, as the main character was introduced, I had trouble liking him and getting into the story. I had the impression that Dumas was trying too hard to settle into the literary tropes of the past. He took pains to compare his protagonist to Don Quixote, although D'Artagnan has nothing in common with the former. But the story quickly picked up. Dumas has what I think of as a modern sense of pacing. He devotes most of his words to action, dialogue, and suspense, and he builds scenes so you have to turn the page and find out what will happen next. In reading this book, I expected a conventional swashbuckling tale of friends who go around doing heroic deeds. But this book exceeded my expectations by a long shot. I think one of the main elements that sets it apart from similar fiction is the villain. She's a clever, beautiful, ruthless bitch. This story takes place in a time when women were considered lesser creatures, but all of the male characters are terrified of her, and with good reason. It sounds cartoony, but Dumas makes her believable without reducing the heroism of the protagonists in any way. She's almost funny, mostly scary. In the end, I respected her and wanted to kill her myself. We've all seen our share of ruthless female villains, but this one stands out in my mind as being a cut above the rest. She doesn't use magic--it's not that kind of book--but her skills at seduction are pushed just slightly beyond the realm of human ability, and she's pretty much a genius, so she achieves a demonic status to the male characters and to the reader.

Of course, a kick-ass villain is nothing without kick-ass protagonists. D'Artagnan, Athos, Porthos, and Aramis are a study in contrast. One is brave and too impulsive, one is a near-suicidal former nobleman, one is a gigantic idiot, and one is a peaceful wannabe monk. The way they meet each other is hilarious, and their interaction throughout the novel is just pure fun. I think the reason Dumas's novels are so popular is because everything is pushed just slightly beyond the bounds of reality, without becoming fantasy or even beyond possibility. The relationship between the four protags isn't quite as silly as that between Egon, Ray, Venkman, and Winston from Ghostbusters, because these guys have their serious moments and their arguments. As with any great story, the larger-than-life characters are portrayed as real people.

I feel a little silly for reviewing a novel that must have been reviewed by thousands of people before me. Oh well. I'm glad I bought Queen Margot, because I want more Dumas.

In the meantime, I'm taking a break from translated French novels to listen to a modern crime/action novel by David Baldacci. It's called Last Man Standing. So far, so good, although it's a little too testosterone-laden for my tastes. I would rather read about a guy's inner feelings than the specifics of all the guns he owns. But I like the premise. An FBI hostage rescue team goes into a drug operation to take out the bad guys, but it turns out the team was set up, and everyone gets killed except for one fluke--the main character, who froze at the critical moment and therefore missed the gunfire meant to kill him. Now people believe he betrayed his team, and he has to endure the accusing stares of the widows of his best buddies, not to mention his coworkers and bosses. I suppose his moment of freezing must have been psychic intuition, but I will read and find out.

Since I'm on this long review kick, I'll add a final blurb about the movie The Prestige. It's worth seeing, and it will bend your mind in weird new ways. However, I thought it was a bit too convoluted. The ending was especially hard to get, at least for me. You have to think outside the magic box. Still ... fun premise, awesome acting, cool cinematography, and so forth. And it is very different from The Illusionist, so see both of them if you can.

An Evening With Harry, Carrie & Garp

I needed that vacation!

I just got back from a two week trip, in which I went to Comic Con in San Diego, then flew to New Hampshire to visit my family and friends, then drove to Manhattan to see my film screened at the Museum of Modern Art, and more visiting. I plan to post lots of photos online soon. You'll see me with a bunch of Storm Troopers, some nice views of Lake Winnipesaukee, and a few great shots of Manhattan, if I do say so myself.

Are there any J.K. Rowling fans reading this blog? How about Stephen King or John Irving fans? I admire all three, and consider myself their fans, so I couldn't pass up the opportunity to see them perform readings at Radio City Music Hall on August 1st. There's a lot to respect about these authors. They've become wildly successful in a waning industry where the odds are stacked high against any writer, and they've actually earned their success (so I believe). Also, unlike many celebrities, they respect their fans, and aim to please them, rather than treating fans as a nuisance. These qualities make them rare among artists of any discipline and any level.

I could talk about the rest of my vacation, but I'll save that for another blog entry, if at all. "An Evening With Harry, Carrie & Garp" was for two nights only, and these are three of the world's most respected living authors. I doubt they'll do another public event together again. I need to share the experience. No cameras or recording devices were allowed in the theatre, so it's all words from here.

Six thousand people bought tickets; the show was sold out. As the seats filled, I noticed lots of families with Harry Potter aged children. Some wore wizard robes and hats. I heard a lot of buzz about Rowling, and I began to worry that 1) these kids would get bored and restless during the readings by the other two authors, and that 2) fans of King and Irving would be a minority, which seemed unfair, considering how many readers they must have.

Whoopi Goldberg, a fan of all three authors, came onstage to give a warm introduction. She mentioned that the King and Irving fans were out there, just not as outspoken as the Harry Potter crowd. I was happy that each author received a huge round of applause; Rowling had not overshadowed the other two.

Each author got a separate introduction by a surprise guest celebrity-fan. Kathy Bates introduced King, relating a story that King used to carry a rubber rat in his pocket during the shooting of The Stand miniseries, and he'd whip it out to scare people. Once introduced, King strolled onstage and got a standing ovation (as did the other two authors, later). He looked fit and healthy, and comfortable in front of this huge audience. He promptly sat in the rural country stageset that had been arranged for him, and launched into reading the pie eating contest scene from The Body in his Different Seasons collection.

I thought this was an odd choice. He could have read an excerpt from The Eyes of the Dragon, or one of his less R-rated short stories. The pie eating contest is a child-friendly scene, but it might make some people feel uncomfortable. Well, King read it with great relish and delight, and the audience laughed quite a lot. I think it held everyone's interest. At one gross-out scene, King interrupted himself, saying, "Who writes this stuff?" Pause for audience laugh, and then he said (with glee), "Let's press on, shall we?" And the next sentence was even more disgusting.

Andre Braugher introduced John Irving. In contrast to King's rural Maine stageset, Irving got an Ivy League New Hampshire setup. He sat down in an ornate leather armchair and read the manger casting scene from A Prayer for Owen Meaney. Like King, he was relaxed in front of the crowd and kept everyone interested. He did a funny, squeaky voice when reading Owen's lines.

John Stewart, a fan of all three authors, strolled out to great applause and introduced J.K. Rowling. He acted as if books were threatening the TV industry, a nice touch of ironic sarcasm. Rowling had a wizardish throne setup. She was a little nervous at first, and joked about being classed in the caliber of King and Irving. Of course, she's much younger than those two, and less prolific at this point in her career. She did an excellent reading of a scene from the sixth Harry Potter book, where Harry accompanies a memory of Dumbledore recruiting Tom Riddle to Hogwarts. Afterwards, she remained alone onstage to answer four audience questions. Among other things, she said that Draco would not have murdered Dumbledore, had that scene panned out differently. She wrote the finale of her series before she began it.

The authors answered twelve selected fan questions, out of a thousand. Soledad O'Brien introduced each fan. Among the answers to their questions:

Irving is a compulsive rewriter, and claims that 3/4ths of his career as a writer is spent revising. He enjoys rewriting, but gets nervous about first drafts. He writes by hand or typewriter, without saving files, which I suppose makes rewriting both more necessary and more difficult.

Rowling was surprised by much of the fan fiction devoted to her series, which she found when bored one night and Googling "Harry Potter." She also has a morbid urge to scroll through the Amazon reviews in search of the harsh ones, and does not recommend doing so.

Irving writes the endings of his stories first, feeling them out emotionally, then meticulously planning and building on the mood structure. He saves beginnings for last and finds them the most difficult. King works the opposite way, starting from the beginning and pulling through without a plan, discovering the plot and characters and mood as he writes it.

Rowling got an agent on her second attempt, but collected rejections for two years before the book sold. She knew from the beginning that Harry Potter was an idea she needed to write, and she never felt like giving up on getting his story published. Hypothetically speaking, if she'd gone through every last publisher without selling the book, she would have kept trying. She would have supported herself as a schoolteacher while continuing to pursue her dream.

Irving said that his book The Fourth Hand was inspired by a TV news story about a hand transplant, and a comment his wife made about visiting the transplanted hand of one's donor spouse. Then his wife went to bed, and he was up all night thinking about it.

Someone asked King how he could come up with such ideas without being demented. King answered that there's no good answer to that question. He didn't have much to say to any of his questions: what scares you, what was the most inopportune place you got a story idea ... he's answered these before. I wish they'd chosen different audience questions for him. Mine, for instance. What would you change about the publishing industry, if you could?

You may wonder what I got from seeing these authors live instead of on TV. The answer (aside from the pleasure of hearing them perform their work specifically for fans like me, and experiencing them along with six thousand readers) is seeing their public personas. One can't hide personal mannerisms when live and onstage for a few hours. I expected one of them to come across as a jerk in some way. Instead, all three seemed down to Earth, not arrogant, very confident in themselves and in touch with their fans. That's a wonderful thing to see.

If you'd like to check out some other reviews of the event:
The Slush God
Tom Richmond
Sense of Soot

Lost River, NH

NOTE: This should be dated July 26, 2006.

I visit New Hampshire every summer. I live in California, but it's nice for me to remember where I grew up (and why I moved). Anyway, during this trip back east, I went on a day excursion to the White Mountains with my friend Amy. We drove from Manchester for about 2 or 3 hours north, to the White Mountain National Park. This is basically a gigantic forest. It stretches from Eastern Canada all the way to the Southern USA. The northern New Hampshire part of it is extremely unpopulated. You might find a quaint town or two, but mostly, it's trees. Lots of trees. The mountains are furred with pine trees and look like hills or clouds from a distance, because they're round and hump-like, but up close, you can see they're taller than hills. The tallest White Mountains are known as the Presidential Range (named after U.S. Presidents), and they tend to have tundra or bare granite peaks due to the awful weather at the top. In midsummer, the tops of these mountains experience freezing rain and the highest windspeeds on Earth. In winter, it gets worse.

We didn't visit any granite peaks on this trip. Instead, we visited Lost River Gorge.


This is one of several parks in upstate New Hampshire where you can explore granite caves (the most well-known one is the Polar Caves). At Lost River, you follow the trail, which consists of walkways between, over, and under giant boulders in the woods. Every so often, you'll see a crack between boulders with a sign inviting you to enter the cave. If you can contort your body through the crack, you're fine. Some of these caves involve spaces that a child has trouble crawling through. Seriously, you need to be flexible and NOT claustrophobic.

Here's a man emerging from a cave:


Here's a view of the White Mountains. Appalachia at its finest!


So, what does one find in a Lost River cave? Somtimes chilly little underground ponds. Sometimes old-style lanterns. Sometimes ladders made out of sticks that you have to climb in order to get out. Sometimes children (or adults) looking for an easier way out. Not much else!


At least it's a fun hike, and there are plenty of nice views.

ComicCon 2006

So far, I've been to two ComicCons, each more crowded than the last. Nerds take over the entire city of San Diego! Look at them all:


Last year, in 2005, I had the supreme honor of being a guest at a private fan dinner with author Robert Jordan. This year, I had a lot of fun hanging out with my friends Brianne and Heather. Here we are in front of the Star of India, a sailing ship near our hotel:


We met a number of pirates, but Captain Jack Sparrow had a certain allure, so we took photos with him.




Part of the joy of being an Attending Professional is avoiding lines. Comic Con attracts over 150,000 people from all over the world. Some of them wait in line for hours just to enter to convention center. Here's a line we skipped:


Last year, I avoided the crowded floor and spent most of the weekend at panels, which were fun and enlightening. This year, I avoided the panels and browsed the floor. The San Diego convention center is so huge, no photograph can convey its size. There are over 5,000 booths in one massive room. There are contests, clothing and jewelry, prints and fine art, comics and toys, celebrities, costumes, novels and author signings. You can spend a day on the floor and not see it all.

Here's a sliver of it:


We met some storm troopers and Jedi:


And Heather met some comic book heroes:


We saw lots of strange costumes, including five women dressed like Wonder Woman, a giant panda on a tricycle, and a naked old man. The thick crowds made it hard to snap shots of individuals. Here's some strange ones:


Finally, we took breaks and explored beautiful downtown San Diego. We went to clubs (full of Comic Con attendees) and restaurants (full of Comic Con attendees). Here's a view of the harbor within walking distance of the convention center:


Will I go again? Surely! But if the convention keeps growing like this, they'll need to rent a larger city.

relieving traffic congestion while improving our standard of living

I am uniquely lucky in one respect: I live in the Los Angeles area, and I almost never face rush hour traffic. This is because a) I live two blocks away from my office building, and b) I'm a night owl who rarely sees the sunny side of the AM hours.

So today, I was required to show up for jury duty at a courthouse in San Fernando Valley. I woke up at 6am (which was painful) and belatedly realized that I was going to get stuck in morning traffic. Yup. I sat amidst cars in the smog-filled morning haze of L.A., and since I wasn't doing much else, I got to thinking about how much it must suck to have to commute every day.

Wouldn't the rush hour traffic be lessened if businesses adopted different schedules? Other night people like me exist; not every employee would voluntarily choose 9am till 5pm. I don't see why other businesses can't shift their schedules in an effort to alleviate traffic congestion. If some of the major corporations were to adopt 11am to 7pm shifts, that would help a lot. And please don't tell me "no one would agree to those hours." That's pure bullshit. If you think that way, then you're one of THEM ... a morning person.

And by the way, I spent my entire civic duty as a potential Juror reading a book. The trial was postponed or something, so they didn't need a jury. I guess that happens a lot! The free time was nice, though; my only complaint was having to wake up at 6am.

Reading and today's youth

Obviously, if you're reading this, you have enjoyed the act of reading at some time in your life (and maybe you still do). You don't habitually avoid large blocks of text. I'm so involved in the writing industry, I sometimes forget that there are huge portions of the population who don't read. They fall asleep when they pick up a novel. They may be proud of the fact that they prefer videogames to books, or they may be embarrassed and pretend to tout some book knowledge based off of the few novels they read in high school English classes. Either way, these people have probably never had the experience of becoming absorped in a novel. They've never read a story that tugged their emotions in an unforgettable way, experiencing something very different from the sort of emotional impact that a good movie or game can impart.

I suspect the reading attitude is cultivated in high school (or junior high) for most people. I wonder how much reading I'd do if I had never picked up Pet Semetary in 6th grade. What if the first adult book I ever read was, say, Moby Dick? What if I'd never read Stephen King or Anne Rice? What if my only encounters with literature were Shakespeare, Charles Dickens, and a handful of V.C. Andrews and Nancy Drew? Well, I'll tell you: I would hate to read. I would chalk it up to an overrated waste of time.

Really, I wonder at the approach high schools take. The classics are important ... but they're not relevant to most teenagers in 2006. To me, emphasizing the Bronte sisters in a 10th grade English class is the equivalent of emphasizing silent films in a class about cinema in general. All of the focus is on one long-ago era, rather than what's innovative and current. Maybe a classic book will have a profound impact on one teenager, somewhere ... maybe. But the way I see it, kids aged 10 through 18 need to experience the joy of reading before they choose to study classic literature. And studying the classics ought to be a choice. I've heard people make a fuss about losing Shakespeare in high school classes, but I think these people are worried about the wrong aspect of the reading problem. Given the choice between losing a few Shakespearian quotes as part of our cultural vocabulary (and that changes every year anyway) and losing millions of readers each year, I choose to lose Shakespeare in high school. This is not the death of Shakespeare. Every reader has a love, many readers love Shakespeare, and they will keep him alive. I'm sure that colleges will continue to devote classes to Shakespeare, and people will continue to study and perform his plays. Meanwhile, high school students would become less familiar with Shakespeare ... which may have the effect of rekindling an interest in his works. Now, if those same high school English classes replaced Shakespeare and the classics with some modern, popular authors, we may actually have more readers entering society.

And one more thing: Most of the bookworms I know, including myself, started out by reading fun, modern authors. We identified with characters who lived in the same society we inhabit. Later on, we read about other worlds and time periods. Now, in our adult lives, some of us read (and enjoy) more classics than any high school would assign. But while we were in high school, we preferred those modern authors, who validated our feelings about the world around us, and showed us characters like our friends and ourselves. That is how we became readers. To me, that is the most important point.

What does society lose from having fewer readers? Let me put it this way: Right now, there are some people who don't know how to navigate the internet or send an email. They've been unable to access computers, or they've purposely avoided them. You're a computer user. What kind of disadvantages do you see those people as having?

St. Patrick's Day madness!

Okay, I'm not a bar-hopping type of girl, but for St. Patrick's Day, my friend convinced me to celebrate by going to an Irish pub. I wasn't sure what to expect. I figured we'd get hit on by all the wrong kinds of people and then leave after an hour, but at least I can pass for Irish if anything went wrong.

So we cruised around the O.C. It so happens that in Seal Beach, there are four Irish bars within a block of each other, and they were all full of St. P's Day revelers. About ten seconds after we walked through the door of The Irisher, a drunk woman started pinching my arm. She wanted to know why I wasn't wearing green ... apparently she didn't notice my bright green pants. Anyway, she was hurting me, so we escaped into the crowd.

Long story shortened (not because I can't remember what happened, but because it's censored, thank you very much): We stayed till closing time. I had a good time. I'm not sure what the point of this story is, except to say that I went to a bar as a single woman for the first time, and it's nice to be hit on.

And last night, I went to an art opening at Gallery Nucleus, where my friends have some artwork up. If you come to the Pasadena area, I highly recommend that you visit this art gallery. They have cool "underground" sort of prints, books, and T-shirts, too.

And earlier today, we had lunch at the 60's futuristic LAX restaurant, Encounter. It's worth a visit for the art deco architecture. Their elevator plays 60's scifi music.

I plan to post new photos on my site soon!

Email backlog

It has come to my attention that I have more than 200 emails awaiting replies. This is worse than usual. To Everyone: I'm sorry! I would send an auto-response that I'm busy, but I don't have time to figure out how to make one.

Here's my typical schedule: Go to work around 11am, run around totally busy until 7 or 8pm (I'm managing a small animation team), then go home and work on my novel revision until 2 or 3am. On weekends, I catch up with friends, or my sister, or actually go on a date. I don't have kids or pets, so honestly, I can't comprehend how someone with kids or pets ever answers email.

Mini-update on my writing:

I estimate I'll be finished with my novel revision around May 2006. Once I'm satisfied that it's better than the old version (test readers!!!), I'll throw every effort into trying to catch the attention of an agent or publisher. No more rewrites. No more agonizing over making it marketable. If the new version gets poor reactions, then I'll stick with the old version, and I mean stick with it. That is a resolution! Stand by for adventures in publishing . . .

Since I've thrown all my attention towards the novel, I haven't done anything with my short stories. Most of them need revisions. But, happily, I did get a rewrite request from Baen's Universe . . . that's almost a pro sale!

Regarding the monitor problem: Thanks for sending in advice. I gather that it could be a bad monitor cable, a conflict between hardware drivers, or a dying monitor. Since I wrote that blog entry, I haven't had a problem (go figure), but I'm sure it'll come back. I'll try different things and post about whatever works.

My computer is insane and wants to die

I just restarted my computer 18 times (maybe more than that), and the monitor never kicked in. The power's on, but nobody's home.

So I figured, maybe I have a dead monitor. Time to test it with another computer. I dragged out my ancient Windows 98 machine and hooked it up. The monitor worked, but it looked pixellated and weird. I began to hope that my problem truly is JUST that I need a new monitor. Replacing a monitor is easy. Replacing my computer would be a huge chore, because it has a ton of stuff on it that I don't want to lose in the transfer.

I hooked the monitor back to my newer computer . . . and lo, it worked fine. It was as if nothing was wrong at all.

You might say, "Well, Abby, maybe your monitor wasn't hooked up properly the first time." But you'd be wrong! Because this blank monitor is a recurring problem that's been happening AT RANDOM for the last half a year. Every once in a while--usually when I plug or unplug a USB device--the monitor goes blank. It's been happening more and more frequently. At first, it only happened once a month or so. Now it's very common, and sometimes the monitor won't work on start-up.

You might say, "Well, Abby, maybe you just have a bad video card." But you'd probably be wrong again! Because I've replaced my video card TWICE in the last year or so. If it's gone bad a third time, that's just not fair. Not fair, I say.

So . . . what do you think I should do? Buy a new monitor? Or bite the bullet and buy a new computer, even though I'd rather wait to do that? Please, if you're reading this and you know stuff about computers, I beg you for advice!

Thank you and good night.

digital camera joy

Yay! My parents very nicely bought me a Nikon S4 for Hanukkah. Now I can show you the pretty view from the balcony of my condo, which I just moved to. Check it out:



I mean, it's no big deal to most people, but in So Cal (Southern California), the houses are spaced so close together than most windows look upon other people's houses. This is the first place I've lived in since college where I can look out my window and see mostly sky. It's sunny and pretty. Directly below me is a courtyard-like park where dogs and kids sometimes play.

Now I'll set about making a photo section for my website!

new start

I've started a new life today.

Sort of. About two months ago, I had a break-up with my boyfriend of five years. We both still care deeply for each other, but our relationship wasn't working. Ever since the "divorce" (that's what it feels like), I've oscillated between depression and joy, nostalgia and optimism for the future. It's been a rough end-of-year. Anyway, he's dating someone else now, and I've moved into a different condo. Today is my first day of being settled in. I'm mostly unpacked, my internet access is set up, and I can sit around and enjoy the view from my balcony. It looks like home at last! I would show you the pretty view, but I need to buy a digital camera. It's on my lengthening shopping list. The last time I was single, I was a mere teenager of 22, fresh out of college, and I didn't own much furniture or things. I'm at a stage in life where I want to own more things. Like a house. It's strange, because I remember being 22 and not wanting to settle down. I'd retained a notion that I would travel a lot, become wildly successful by the age of 27, and build a fabulous mansion when I was good and ready. Do all 22-year-olds have grandiose dreams? I think they're a good thing. We all need goals to strive for. The biggest symptom of my late 20s, I think, is that my dreams are fading. I still hope that I'll be wildly successful and build the awesome mansion, but I can no longer tell myself that it will happen by the age of 27. I'm 27 now. So I'll postpone that goal for age 30 . . . but somewhere along the course of life, I've learned how to postpone good things and procrastinate on others, and I can no longer believe these promises I make to myself without at least some doubts. I have a sad feeling that I will end up postponing that goal till age 35, then 40, and while I continue to struggle towards the stars, so to speak, I'll remain single and grow more bitter and ugly with every passing year. What will I have when I'm 60? I used to believe in my wonderful future with blind faith. I think that's what held me together through the trials of childhood, high school, and college. Now that personal faith is shaken. Worries and doubts are creeping in. I don't know what my future holds, and I don't like not knowing.

So there's my depressing sermon for the day. Kids, don't grow up! Priestess Abby signing off.

Oh, I may as well give an update on the rest of my life while I'm here. Work is going well. I'm doing 3D animation for a Nintendo DS game, and enjoying it. Being single, I've seen more of my friends, and will have more time to write screenplays and novels. I did have a fun Thanksgiving holiday at a friend's house. For the Christmas week, I'm going on a ski trip to Mammoth Mountain, which I'm really looking forward to. Skiing is the only sport I'm capable of, since I grew up in a non-athetic family living in New Hampshire. I'm only an intermediate skier, but I like the speed of going downhill.

Writing: On hold for the last two months. I will get back to it as of today. Of course, I've managed to distract myself with George RR Martin's series. If you like to read, do yourself a favor and buy A Game of Thrones. That is some good crack.

Art: I just modeled a few Gothic buildings in 3ds Max, but my latest ambition is to paint my own book covers. I went to the Gnomon Workshop, where world-famous digital painters give amazing tutorials, and I left feeling inspired.

Long Time, No Update

It's been a while. I planned to update this blog every week, but I think I'd have to write a novel to catch up now. August was a busy month. Well, it was a vacation month, which means I got to go to a lot of theme parks, concerts, parties, and generally wallow in my free time. I count that as REAL life. Most of my life isn't that exciting.

Anyway, my artwork will be featured in an upcoming gallery show. The reception is this Saturday evening, in Alhambra (between Pasadena and Los Angeles), at Gallery Nucleus. If you're in the L.A. area, it's worth going to! There will be free drinks, a live band, and women get 10% off all the store merchandise, since it's an all-woman show. My artwork will be for sale at the gallery and on their online store throughout September.

I never told you about Comic Con, did I? Well ... to those of you who are "Wheel of Time" fans ... I went to a dinner with Robert Jordan and his wife, Harriet. That was a really cool, interesting experience! I'll attempt to go into more detail at a later date.

In the last week of July, I spent ten days in New Hampshire at TNEO (the Odyssey writing workshop alumni program thingy). It's basically a high-end critique group. Some of the Odyssey graduates are published novelists, and many have experience in the publishing industry, so I judged it worth going to. It was. I'll probably go again next year. Not only did we critique each other's work (and receive critiques on up to three stories of our own), but we practiced pitching our novels, we did a reading at Barnes & Noble, and we had panels covering everything from Young Adult markets to writing good query letters. Ask about my reading at B&N and watch me blush ...

So, I could tell you about the Doctor Steel and STG concerts I went to, but I think Larry has covered everything I'd have to say about that. If you've never heard of those bands (and you probably haven't), then it is your duty as a music-lover to check them out. By the way, Doctor Steel went to CalArts in the same Character Animation program I went through. You just wait, someday I'll have a Flash website that looks as cool as his ...

I've been out of work since Tak 3 wrapped up. I believe it will be showing up in stores across the world pretty soon. Remember, kids, I wrote some of the dialogue in that game (the Gameboy Advance version, anyway). I got to write the mind reader boss's dialogue! Oh yeah, and I animated him, too. Actually, I'm only responsible for about 1/3 of the in-game dialogue, and the publisher smoothed it all over and made sure there weren't any in-jokes left. Or maybe they just replaced our in-jokes with their in-jokes.

So, I'm doing some freelance, designing T-shirts and logos for an advertising company. Also continuing to teach myself Flash MX. I've overcome the learning hump and enjoying it now. I want to design a whole bunch of Flash websites for fun. But I try to keep my priorities in the right order, so I'm focusing on my writing instead. (Yes, that is a priority with me; I'm just weird.) I'm currently working on a short story about demonic Vikings. Rejections are trickling in ... maybe I'm self-deluded, but I keep thinking it's only a matter of time before I reach my goal of breaking into a pro market. I'll tell you as soon as it happens.

My novels and my screenplays are on hold. But not for long! I'm going to go insane and rip somebody's head off if I don't get back to long format writing soon.

Abby, signing off.

Spam-free!

What a difference spam makes . . . I just closed my last spam-compromised email account, so I no longer receive unwanted emails. Words can't describe how joyful I felt when I checked my email today and it said "no new messages"! Ah, bliss! I checked it several hours later, just to make sure, and there are still no new messages! This is like a trip to Disneyland.

So, Larry and I went to a Goth/Industrial club on Friday the 13th. The band we saw is STG, and Larry took photos of them. I had a good time. The Derby has a really cool, retro atmosphere; it used to be the major Swing club in L.A. I'm considering going to The Labyrinth Masquerade, an annual masquerade in L.A. based on the movie. Isn't everything based on a movie around here?

I'm not as crazy as I sound

After I received a number of concerned responses to my latest Abby Update, I realized that I sound like a crazed, overworked, 10-cups-a-day freak. Rest assured, this is NOT the case. My job is fun. I enjoy all of my writing projects. Yes, I have a lot going on, but most of it is self-imposed, because I love doing it. And I do take breaks and have fun! I have a social life, I live in a pretty neighborhood where I can go for walks or swimming, and I live with a really great guy. I'm not locked up in some room slaving away. But thank you for your concern! :-)

One day, one of my projects will pay off . . .

Hello Friends and Neighbors!

My latest story is at Aoife's Kiss. I've been writing at a faster pace, but my publications are growing fewer. I don't think this is because I'm losing my touch. Nope. I've begun to submit to high profile markets first (like Asimov's), and these places take much longer to respond than smaller zines. It's not unusual to wait three months for a reply. In my case, it's often a rejection. Then I send the story to another market and wait another for another season to pass. I currently have six stories subbed to various markets: Borderlands anthology, Deathlings.com, Fishnet.com, fromtheasylum.com, Conduit contest, and two closed anthologies.

You may be wondering what happened to my novels. Well, The Illusionist is shelved. It needs major revising, and I've been distracted with other projects (see below).

As for the Yeresunsa saga . . . if you read my blog, then you know that's the frustration of my life. I believe that Yeresunsa is publishable and good. But the first part of the adventure is 530,000 words, and no publisher will consider that length from a new author. So I chopped the story into three novels. The first of these three books was rejected from Baen Books a few months ago. The reader at Baen said that she'd love to see my novel in print, but the current ending doesn't work at all (which is natural, since that book was the first segment of a longer work). Anyway, when all is said and done, the Baen reader had a very good point. Based on her advice--and on feedback from test readers--I want to combine the first two books, thereby giving it a more conclusive ending. That will make for a long novel, even after I reduce it . . . but 250,000 words long, not 530,000 words. I'll still have a hellish time trying to get any editor to read it, but at least the possibility will exist. I hear tantalizing stories of authors who've gotten their 250,000 word first novels published. I hope to become one of them.

The Yeresunsa saga is not sitting idly. A literary agent requested an exclusive read on the first book, and has had it since December. I've queried her a couple of times, and as far as I know, she still plans to read it. I'm not in a hurry. I want time to combine/reduce the first two books into a fat novel with a solid ending, if the agent passes on it. And after that, at long last (and with great joy), I will write the next book in the series. I'm pleased that a few people have been asking for it.

I've planned other novels, but they're on hold in favor of a screenwriting project. I figured, I live in Los Angeles, I have film industry connections, and I write stories for fun . . . why not try to earn money for it? Yup. So I'm finishing a feature-length SciFi Thriller in between my short stories and work. To stay motivated, and to meet other screenwriters, I've founded an informal screenwriting group. We meet once a month in the L.A. area. If you'd like to join our mailing list, here it is.

Of course, that's the not the end of the projects I'm working on. My life is not complete without ten million things I can't handle. If you looked up the phrase "bit off more than she could chew" in m-w.com, you'd see my photo next to it. I plan to finish animating my little Flash film. I want to animate a series of webisodes. I want to revise major portions of my website. The Wheel of Time section needs work, my art gallery needs an overhaul, I'd like to expend the review sections, and start a column in response to Group Hug. Oh yes, and I participate in a critique group that requires one critique per week. Finally--last but certainly not least--I'm going to TNEO (The NeverEnding Odyssey) this July. This involves something like 50 critiques that I need to complete by July, and I need to write two short stories within the next two months. I don't know what animal I'll need to sacrifice to generate enough free time, but it will have to be a big one. Maybe a cthulhu.

So you can understand why I'm not responding to my email very quickly.

Now it's time for BOOK and MOVIE REVIEWS!

I just finished listening to Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy. Maybe it was because I was listening to an all-star British cast recording while animating weird monsters, but I greatly enjoyed it. I'm not too keen about the ending--it sort of fell apart in mayhem and abstraction, as many epics tend to do--but it worked. The premise (original), characters (entertaining), and settings (nicely rendered) made the trilogy very worthwhile. I can't wait to see how New Line Cinema adapts it to film.

And I listened to Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Bronte. Maybe I'd better not comment on this classic, for fear of critical repercussions. Nah. Here's my opinion: Beautiful language, lovely voice, extremely engaging character and situation. BUT the ending just sucked. I mean, I hated Jane Eyre towards the end. All of my built-up sympathy for her character just evaporated. I can't say more without giving spoilers, but I had to say that much.

Falling Free by Lois McMaster Bujold was entertaining. Much more so than the book cover indicates. The more of Bujold I read, the more I like her, and the more I resent her marketing people for choosing terrible cover designs.

I give Dean Koontz's Odd Thomas a thumbs-down. Before you shoot me for saying that, please remember that I don't enjoy reading humor (not for prolonged periods, anyway). You might like Odd Thomas just fine. In fact, you probably will, especially if you liked The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy or Terry Pratchett. Odd Thomas was halfway between serious and funny, as some of Koontz's books tend to be, and I dislike those, although I think they're among his best-selling. The character of Odd Thomas was cool, nice to listen to, but the plot just didn't do anything for me.

Now, on to movies. I saw Hitchhiker's Guide and my reaction was "bleh." Again, you might not want to trust my opinion, but I have a few valid reasons on this one. The film-makers played up the romance way too much. This film is supposed to be a comedy. The sudden soberness of the romance slowed down the pacing. It became cheesy in a few scenes. Also, the character design of the manic-depressive robot was awful. He looked cute and superdeformed, with sad eyes, which gives away everything about him without a hint of contrast. As any film student knows, contrast makes a character interesting; it emphasizes the main traits. If you want your audience to be impressed by a legendery 900-year-old warrior, you make him look frail and puny. This emphasizes the fact that the warrior can kick anyone's ass. If you want your audience to fear a genius serial-killer, you make him look and behave like an ordinary person when he's in public. Etc. Anyway, the robot just looked stupid and fake.

What else have I seen recently? Honestly, not much, because there isn't much out that interests me. I saw Sin City and probably won't see it again. And Robots, which was well-made from an animator's perspective. Oh yes. A Boy and His Dog is a 1970s film based on a novella by Harlan Ellison; the ending makes the film worth sitting through, perhaps.

Travel:
I'll be at to E3, the game expo in Los Angeles., in a couple of weeks.
I plan to attend ComicCon in San Diego in mid-July. I'll try to say hello to Robert Jordan.
And I'll be in New Hampshire during the last week of July. TNEO is being held at St. Anselm's College, near Manchester.
I'll also be at WorldCon (the world's biggest science fiction convention) in Anaheim next summer, 2006.

Thank you for reading, listening, or what have you. Best wishes!

Busy!

I've overdue for sending out an update, and my unanswered email piles up. I feel terrible about the emails that have been sitting in my inbox since November. But I can explain. I'm putting in long hours at work, animating characters in the upcoming Tak game for Gameboy Advance, meeting tight deadlines. I've also started a screenwriting group, Reel Writers, Los Angeles. If you live in Los Angeles and you're interested in screenwriting, you're welcome to join. We recently had our first meeting. I thought it went well, with useful feedback on our individual projects, and good discussion about plot ideas.

It may not sound like a lot, but I've barely had time to sleep. My fiction writing has fallen by the wayside. That's making me a little depressed; I hope I'll have some time to write this week. More to come! By the way, I've just got to say, I'm glad to work at a company where everyone can spontaneously leave in the middle of the day to see a matinee of Sin City. It just meant we had to work later than usual.

Some weird fun with Photoshop

I like using my Wacom tablet. The furniture photos, by the way, are from my parents' house.

I plan to have a real update here soon. The short of it is this: My story Leveling Mountains is featured in this month's issue of Aoife's Kiss. I'd appreciate a vote!

Wow . . . tsunamis.

I'd always imagined them to look like a curling wall of water, but the footage from Sri Lanka and India shows that they look more like ordinary beach waves on a massive scale. It's like a bucket slopping over miniature models of buildings, vehicles, and people. I can't imagine the devastation and anguish that the survivors have to face. I rarely comment on global news that reaches my corner of the world (because it's usually about fighting over my two least favorite topics: politics and religion) but this one left me a bit shocked. For some reason, tsunamis are one of my weird childhood fears. I was never worried about tornadoes, earthquakes, or sharks, but when I went to the beach, I'd sometimes think "If a tidal wave sped toward us right now, we'd never be able to outrun it."

I recently sent out my Abby Update newsletter, and I was going to paste it here. Now it seems too happy in the face of recent world events. Hence the preface. Also, after I reread the newsletter, I realized that it sounded way too friggin' happy. I'm more of a pessimist than an optimist. So I want to take a quick moment to say that I was in an unusually good mood when I wrote it! In fact, I've had such a great month so far, I'm expecting a ton of bad luck to come crashing down on me in January. Yeeks! I can almost see its shadow!

Okay. My biggest cause for celebration is that a literary agent has requested my manuscript. That may not sound like a big deal, but I was jumping for joy. Literally. Why? Well, here are the usual steps in the process of a first-time author getting a novel published:

• You finish your novel, and revise/edit it obsessively over a period of years.
  
• You send out lots of query letters to reputable agents and major publishing houses, hoping that one of them will be interested enough to ask for the first three chapters. (A good literary agent may be able to get your novel read by major publishing houses.)
  
• No one answers your query letters. Years pass. You revise your query letters incessantly, trying to write the perfect query letter.
  
• More years pass. Your new query letters don't work. You try networking with agents and editors.
  
• Finally, your years of networking and query letter revising come together in perfect harmony. An agent requests the first three chapters of your novel!
  
• Months pass. You worry that the agent has lost your submission.
  
• But wait! The agent had a huge slushpile of submissions to wade through, and as it turns out, she "literally flew through" the first three chapters. And she looks forward to reading the rest of the book!!!
  

That's where I am right now. I've FedExed the novel to her, and I'll let you know what the outcome is.

This is by far the furthest I've ever been toward novel publication. I have some worries--she may not take me on as a client--but I still consider this to be a huge step. It's the first time my novel will be judged by an agent on its own merits, rather than on my query letters or poor salesmanship skills. I figure that no matter what happens, at least ONE agent in New York will know that I can write. I have high hopes that she'll remember my novel, because it's an unusual story.

In addition to that, my animation career is perking up. I'm slated to work on a few Nintendo games as a lead animator. As always, this industry is unsteady, and I can't say what I'll be doing six months from now, but I feel good and secure about the immediate future.

Larry and I celebrated both Hanukkah and Christmas. I've received a Dell pocket PC--a very nifty little computer that comes with a retractable keyboard and wireless internet access--and a 20GB mp3 player. This is perfect for my audio book listening habits. I go through seven or eight unabridged audio books per month. I also got some delicious Belgian chocolates, and a bunch of magazine subscriptions and gift certificates that I've wanted.

Spoiler-Free MOVIE REVIEWS

We saw Life Aquatic at a fabulous outdoor mall in L.A. Yes, fabulous is the word. It was the epitome of Beverly Hills / L.A. culture, although it was closer to Hollywood. Anyway, my friends give the movie a thumbs-up. If you liked The Royal Tennenbaums, you'll like this one. But I didn't particularly like The Royal Tennenbaums. 'Nuff said.

I thought A Series of Unfortunate Events was worth seeing, but I haven't read the Lemony Snicket books. The acting and the movie sets and costumes were completely awesome. The story adaptation may have been a little shaky.

Blade III was campy, good fun. I think it was better than Blade II, with more character and plot. And it has some funny scenes.

The Return of the King, Extended Edition was well worth the four hours of watching! I think it needed the scenes they'd cut.

Meet the Fockers was entertaining. It was pretty much as funny as advertised in the trailer, and a good way to spend a few hours, but don't go expecting a deep story!

Um . . . I'm not sure if I saw anything else recently. Hey, the trailer for the new Charlie and the Chocolate Factory looks great! I'm angry at Tim Burton for remaking something that didn't need to be remade, but after that trailer, I'll see it. I'm less enthusiastic about the upcoming War of the Worlds movie.

Spoiler-Free BOOK REVIEWS

So, I listened to Across the Nightingale Floor, by Lian Hearn. I've heard rave reviews about this one, but after reading it, I don't understand what they were raving about. The story and style both seemed very conventional. It was well-written, but . . . well, nothing to rave about, IMHO.

And I listened to David Brin's The Postman. My diagnosis on this one is that it has a kick-ass, original premise, and poor execution. I had this feeling throughout the entire story that it wasn't hitting its potential. The characters were too clueless within the context of the story. The suspense never really peaked in any place, although there were plenty of places where it could have. Worst of all, I kept predicting what the main character was going to do well before he realized what he was going to. This could have been a wild, unpredictable story, but it was pretty tame for the subject matter.

I've been reading a lot of short stories. I'm picking through genre magazines and anthologies, and my two critique groups are keeping me really busy. I probably read fifteen short stories per week. I listen to audio books because that's my way of sponging extra reading time. If you're wondering, I only listen to unabridged audio books. Abridgements are an affront to nature and all that is holy! Next up: Orson Scott Card's Lost Boys, Ursula K. Le Guin's first Earsea novel, and Susannah Clarke's Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell.

And now it's time for me to sleep. I humbly beg your pardon if you've emailed me and I haven't responded. My backlog of emails-to-answer is nearing 100. I'm going to make an effort to reply to some of those over the holiday week. If you don't hear from me . . . .I'm a jerk. But I'll still like hearing from you, and eventually, I hope, I'll reply.

Happy Holidays to everyone!

eulogy for Billy

I had a shock today when my mother called and told me that my dog died. He was a golden retriever named Billy, and he died from a ruptured spleen and other complications at the age of twelve. I knew this death was coming, because he was getting old, but I'd thought he'd live another year. I'd hoped to visit him one last time and let him know that I hadn't forgotten him. The last time he saw me was in August 2004, three months ago. I'm writing this now because Billy was a dog who deserves to be remembered. He was the finest example of a dog that I've ever known.

He was born from a family of golden retriever show-dogs. My family adopted him in the winter of 1992, when he was three months old. I was thirteen at the time, and nervous around dogs, having had a few unpleasant experiences with them. Billy was a surprise. I came home from a winter camp to find that we had a puppy in our house. But he was gentle and innocent, so I found it impossible to be afraid of him. My parents caged him in our basement at night, but he cried, and soon I let him sleep in my bedroom, on the condition that my sister and I take full responsibility for training him. Billy was extremely intelligent. House-training him took a few weeks, and he learned every conventional doggie trick in a few months. He slept at the foot of my bed until he grew bigger, and then he slept under my desk. Eventually he slept downstairs with a dog we bought to keep him company, a female tri-colored collie named Layli. Billy had a lot of funny personality quirks that I'd never imagined in a dog. For instance, he would try to smile by holding in his lips so his teeth showed, but his face was relaxed, not like a growl. He had superstitions about robotic toys and floating balloons; both were things to be avoided, probably because of the weird way they move. He also learned how to communicate with people by shuffle-dancing (when he wanted something), making noises in his throat (he made low whining sounds that were almost like questions or comments), and pointing by looking back and forth between the object and the human. He had a bin full of toys, and he assigned each toy to a specific person. If he wanted to greet me, then he would search though his toy bin and find the human-doll. If he wanted to greet my sister, he would find the duckie-doll. He had a toy for each family member, and different toys for friends. I thought it was cute that he always greeted people with a toy, no matter what. There were a few times when he rooted through his toy bin to the bottom and whined because he couldn't find the correct toy to greet someone with. Usually the toy had been left under a cushion or in another room.

While the dog-tricks are cute, Billy's best trait was his compassion. He was a companion to my grandmother, who lived in our house for a year, and who disliked dogs until she met Billy. He offered comfort to people in pain by resting his head in their lap, and by giving them extra attention and sympathetic looks. Although he was energetic during his puppyhood, and he grew to be 90 lbs, he knew when to be gentle. He never jumped on anyone aside from healthy family members who could handle it. He never knocked anyone over. He never bit or growled at people. At one time, my mother (a social worker) brought him to her patients as a therapy dog. And I can't neglect to mention that Billy was a wonderful friend to me; he was a being whom I absolutely trusted, and who trusted me unconditionally. I'm not sure I would have survived my teenage years without Billy. At the very least, he kept me from slipping into a pool of self-loathing. He kept me sane. The hardest part of leaving for college was leaving Billy behind. During my first or second semester away, I heard that Billy had run past the dog-gate and into my bedroom, leapt onto my bed, and wouldn't leave for a day. I wish I could have taken him with me to college. The first few times I returned home to visit, he cried more than I'd ever seen him do before. After a few years, he got more used to it--but I wish my long absences didn't hurt him. I noticed that he grew more lethargic and took to barking at night, both traits that he hadn't had until after I left.

I have a lot of happy memories of Billy. I'd like to share them all, but I could go on for pages. I'll mention a few highlights. Billy liked to play squeaky-under-the-rug. This would involve me (or anyone) hiding one of his squeaky toys underneath a small rug. I'd press the squeaky so he could hear it. Then Billy would pretend he was stalking it. He'd rear up and leap upon the rug like an attacking bear. I'd move the squeaky around so it wasn't where he'd expect. Eventually, he would throw the rug aside and grab the squeaky, then do a dance of triumph. He would prance around in a circle, snorting, tossing his head, and squeaking the squeaky. In later years, he'd do the triumph dance with the rug in his mouth instead; I guess he considered that a bigger trophy. He also liked to play fetch, and he would chase balls down flights of stairs and swim after them as well. He knew every variation of the terms "walk" and "food", and how to spell all of them, so our family was eventually reduced to using code phrases like "Let's do a W" (take Billy for a walk) or "Is it time?" (to feed Billy). If he understood what we were talking about, he would expect us to carry through with it immediately. If anyone said the word "walk," he would run and get his leash. If anyone said "dinner", he would look at the kitchen and make noises until he was fed. Of course, if we failed to carry through, he would look dejected and sigh a lot. Yes, he could actually guilt-trip humans into walking and feeding him. He had very expressive eyes and eyebrows.

I've missed Billy for eight years now--that's how long I've been gone from home--but he was always close in my heart. I will continue to miss him now that he's gone, and mourn him. This is the best I can do, and I know that it's less than he deserves. He's earned the respect and love of this particular human.



Billy
b. October 15, 1992 -- d. November 30, 2004
Rest in Peace. I will never forget you.

World Fantasy Convention 2004

he palm trees are green, the hedges play jazz music, and it's late autumn in California.

The last time I posted in my blog, I was going insane with my novel rewrite. This is no longer the case. I have attained a zen-like attitude of fatalism. If I finish the rewrite and it works, great. If not . . . I still believe the current version is a good book. If it never gets looked at due to its structural problem, then I'll just wait until I'm famous and have it published then!

I just returned from the World Fantasy Convention, which is a conference for professional genre authors, editors, and publishers (despite its name). They're so professional that they hold the convention on Halloween and don't dress up in any costumes. There was an art show there, and panel discussions, but the point of this convention was mostly to shmooze--aka network. I'm not a social person, but to my surprise, I had a really good time. I met a lot of online friends for the first time, and (to sound corny) met new friends. It was also a thrill for me to hear some big-name authors and publishers speak their minds.

I want to go on about this conference at great length, but that would be boring to many readers, so I'll save it for the end of this entry.

ANIMATION

On the animation front, I'm full-swing into the job hunt. It's a demoralizing process, because most of my queries receive no reply, and I'm not qualified for most of the jobs I want. I'm not qualified because I don't have the right experience, and I can't get the right experience because I can't get those jobs. It's the old catch-22. I can see a way out of this vicious cycle: I need to make a kick-ass 3D film single-handedly. But that requires a lot of time and dedication, and I don't like the idea of putting aside my writing ambitions in favor of that.

However, I am learning Flash MX and making an animated short that will probably put my other films to shame. It's a lot of fun, and I think it'll be a great thing on my demo reel. The process is also setting me up for my future ambition: A series on online cartoons, a la Homestar Runner. I have high hopes for this project. The voice actors are lined up (thanks, voice actors!), the scripts are ready, and the characters are designed. All I need now is to do it.

Speaking of animation, I just saw The Incredibles. Go see it! I think they made an incredible film, exceeding my expectations by a long shot. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I actually WANT them to make a sequel. (pout) I wish Pixar would hire me. My applications to them never received replies.

ARIZONA ROAD-TRIP

So anyway, back to other stuff. Larry and I took a little road trip through the deserts of Arizona on the way back from the convention. The photos should be on his website soon. We stopped at Montezuma's Castle, an ancient fortress built into a cliff wall by Native Americans. It was inhabited by 35 people from a community of 200. Apparently the other people had a ground-level place, but it burned down 600 years ago. The same day (Halloween), we drove from a saguaro cactus desert--with warm summer temperatures--to an icy cold pine forest with a foot of snow on the ground. We passed through the town of Sedona at sunset. All the kids were trick-or-treating. According to the people of Sedona, there are energy points around the town that make people feel good. I'm a total skeptic, but I must say, I felt good driving through there! It was so pretty. Larry and I turned to each other at the same moment and said "Let's live here!"

We stayed overnight in Flagstaff--brrr--and then we checked out Meteor Crater. Yeah, it's basically a big hole that got blasted into the desert 50,000 years ago, but it was impressive. Also windy. I figure the wind chill factor was 30 F. And then we drove the eight hours back to L.A., reading the last book in the Dark Tower series on the way. We're still not done with it, but I must say, the action is building toward some kind of crazy climax. My favorite books in the series so far have been Books 2, 3, and 6. Book 6 was hands-down awesome. If anyone out there is looking for a good SF/Fantasy epic, I recommend this one.

RECENT PUBLICATIONS AND NOVEL STATUS

As you know, the process of editing my novel has become gruesome to me. I'm taking it more slowly now. I also want to polish my scary screenplay and write new short stories. I'm afraid to start a new novel, because I get sucked in and tend to pay less attention to job hunting and films and stuff like that. Once I feel like my life is on a more comfortable track, you can bet I'll start another major project. I have more than enough ideas to run with.

I have a story accepted by Aoife's Kiss. "Leveling Mountains" will appear there sometime in 2005.
I have one submission waiting at Realms of Fantasy, one at Borderlands 6 anthology, and one at Corpse Blossoms anthology. That's all I have out there right now, which is pretty meager for me. You can count on a lot more news with my next update.

MOVIE AND BOOK REVIEWS

The Grudge was relentlessly scary. Lots of fun! Team America was very funny, but not the sort of movie I can watch repeatedly. Most of the gags were one-time only. But other than those movies and The Incredibles, there haven't been many good films lately. The Forgotten was like a low-budget made-for-TV movie. Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow was a huge disappointment, to me. They went all out on special FX, and the imagery was beautiful, but the plot completely failed in its attempt to pay homage to old-time pulp fiction.

Um . . . what have I been reading? Lots and lots of short stories. I'm a member of two critique groups now. That amounts to about three critiques per week. I'm also working through the last Borderlands anthology, in which my friend Lon Prater was published. And reading a bunch of SF magazines I got at the convention. And reading/critiquing a friend's novel. The novel is a relief, because I'm still more of a fan of epics than short form, but I'm also continually suprised by how much plot and character one can pack into a short story.

And now it's time for the . . .

WORLD FANTASY CONVENTION 2004 REPORT

This was my first con, and I learned a few things. Here are the highlights.

01) Many of the authors I talked with had completed five stand-alone novels or so before their first book was picked up by a publisher. There were a LOT of neo-pros there. I had this weird feeling that no one was taking me seriously because I have no pro publications. My conclusion is that I haven't written and submitted nearly enough stuff. I need a few pro publications!

02) The panels were pretty silly. A friend advised that I should attend panels based on WHO is on them rather than the topic, and I think this held true. The panelists were often answering audience questions or talking about their personal opinions rather than holding an illuminating discussion of the topic. There was one panel where they strayed completely from the topic and never came back to it. However, it was illuminating to listen to all these published authors and major editors speak. I feel like I have a much better sense of who they are and what they're about.

03) Ellen Datlow says that the SciFi Channel doesn't read her magazine, SciFiction. Both Ellen Datlow and Gordon Van Gelder want more SF and more Humor, and more complete stories with a protagonist who changes during the course of events. They believe that the importance of story structure is being forgetten, and want to see more stories with the traditional structure of a single hero who undergoes the most important change of his or her life.

04) Gordon Van Gelder gives detailed feedback to writers whom he considers to be promising. He says that sometimes a story is great except that the fantastic element shows up too late, or the setting/style is generic, or it's too literary.

05) All of the panelists on short stories agree that Robert Reed is a model of what a short story writer should be. He has at least 15 stories per year in all the major markets, and they're always good.

06) Tor editor David Hartwell cares so much about finding talent that he actually read a short story of John C. Wright's, then tracked him down and asked him if he had a novel.

07) I was really happy to talk with a screenwriter who's produced TV shows such as DS9 and Sliders. He gave me some nice tips on how to get in on the industry here. I know that book writers and screenwriters don't often mix, but I don't see why not. The mediums are not hugely different. The biggest difference I see is this: Screenwriters cannot survive if they're overly attached to the purity of their work.

08) Interestingly enough, I met an extremely talented animator who's attending the school (and department) I graduated from at CalArts. That was a surprising coincidence. We talked animation industry for a while.

09) The parties were tiring, and they stuffed a lot of people into those little suites. The Tor Books party was particularly crowded. There were about 100 people in a room designed to hold maybe 50. I'd been told that the parties would be mostly invitation only, but it seemed that anyone could walk into any party. There were only four suites or so in the hotel, and a party in them every night. I popped into most of them.

10) Shmoozing was not nearly as frightening as I'd imagined. Writers are very open to conversation. Unfortunately, most of the people there knew each other and were wrapped in private conversations. A few times, I struck up conversations with other people who looked alone. Most of them had their own weird tales about the getting-published process, and most were further along than I am (I have a competetive spirit, and couldn't help but compare). I really found everyone easy to talk to, which was a HUGE relief. I've known writers who are snobbish. It was also nice to realize that just about everyone at this convention wants a lifelong career as a writer or editor.

11) I met a whole bunch of people that I've hitherto only known online. It was exciting to meet other Odyssey graduates, friends from science_fiction_writing on Yahoo, and Samantha Henderson from my online critique group.

12) There were some good artists in the art show amidst the not-so-talented ones. I found a new artist to admire: Sarah Clemens. She's one talented woman. It was also cool to see the original book cover paintings by Janny Wurts and Don Maitz. They're much more impressive up close than on book covers.

13) One of the highlights of my experience at WFC was that a girl asked for my autograph. She was collecting them in case any of the new writers get famous. It was the first time anyone's requested my autograph, and I was flattered!

14) Authors did readings at the con, and I thought this was a great way to sample their work and decide if I wanted to buy one of their books or not.

15) The first panel I went to was a discussion on why adults read Young Adult novels. I thought that one of the best points in the debate was brought up by an audience member. He said that adult fantasy often focuses on using the magic for war and fighting, whereas YA fiction is still about the sheer wonder of magic. This may be why Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell is compared to the Harry Potter series. Although it's adult fiction, it's about the wonder of magic rather than using magic for war.

16) I enjoyed the panel about stereotyped characters. The panelists all had interesting things to say. Charles de Lint said that for him, beginning a new novel project is like starting a new job and having to get used to a new setting, new co-workers, etc. He also finds it important (as I do) to have people read the novel before it's published. Jo Walton mentioned that the "spunky woman heroine" in a medieval setting often doesn't belong in that world. The spunky woman heroine is a 20th century woman, not a person that grew up in a medieval society.

17) The panel about villains got a little silly, but it was fun. I'm glad that L.E. Modesitt, Jr. pointed out the done-to-death stereotype of stupid bad guys who also happen to be powerful. Those also bother me. I get bored with stupid villains in novels and movies. Enough with the James Bond cliches! David Levine mentioned that villains are often the agents of progress or change--a new regime--while the protagonists are often trying to restore the old way of doing things. Strange, huh? I think so. But it holds true more often than not. Even in my Yeresunsa saga, the protagonists are trying to restore an ancient culture, and the bad guys are all about technological progress.

18) Finally, the panel about recurring characters in series was a good one. James Barclay doesn't believe in writer's block; he said that Terry Pratchett holds the same opinion. An audience member--Carrie Vaughn--brought up the point that a character must change in order to be interesting, but this might get tiresome in a long series where the character changes in every book. L.E. Modesitt answered this by saying that he never writes more than three books about any given character; beyond that, the character begins to seem plastic. Barclay said his limit is six books before the character gets tired. There was much mention of Lois McMaster Bujold handling a character through seven books without making him seem too plastic. Yes, Bujold is definitely on my list of authors to try soon!

With that, I believe I've run out of things to say. Oh! Email. If you email me, and I don't reply for a month or two, it's because I want to take the time to write a thought-out response. I'm usually too busy or lazy to do that. The one-sentence replies tend to go out the fastest. If I have more than one sentence to say to you, then . . . sorry. I'll reply eventually.

Best of luck to everyone who had the patience to read this. Happy Holidays!