1. The Past
It’s the time of year when people run around (figuratively, virtually) blaring out how they and their stuff are eligible for this or that award. By “this or that” I mean the Hugos and the Campbell and the Nebulas, and maybe some other stuff I don’t know about. Despite my mild covert narcissism I felt somewhat disinclined to engage in the practice, because I think I’m about as likely to receive the Campbell tiara as I am to inherit Queen Elizabeth II’s heaviest hat. So why not at least pretend to be aloof and dignified about it? But my glorious SFWA overlord Cat Rambo recommends I do this, and my name got on that Campbell list at Writertopia somehow, so fine. Twist my damn arm.
If you, dear sweet reader, are considering whom to nominate for the Campbell award, I had my first pro publications this year and am thus in my first year of eligibility. If you are thinking about the Hugos or the Nebulas, I had two stories published last year that I’d call SFF and would be eligible, and that got at least one positive review. They are:
2. The Present
I have been working away at the ol’ diss, which means all kinds of innocent, well-intentioned people have asked me things like, “So what are you working on lately?” and then I start rambling about daguerreotypes and spiritism and body swapping, and how I really wish there were a better term than body swapping, I thought metempsychosis maybe but no, that’s different, and yeah, I’m writing about Gautier’s Avatar right now, oh it sounds interesting but actually it’s pretty terrible, ha ha, never never read Gautier unless you have to, except it’s useful, yeah…
So it’s probably a good thing I’ve started teaching again, which means I’m forced to try to express myself in a clear and accessible manner for at least fifty minutes a day.
It’s difficult for me to write both fiction and non-fiction in the same 24-hour period—they work related, if not the same, brain bits, I guess, and those can only generate so much intelligent verbiage per day. I’ve got a few different fiction-stews on the backburner and once this chapter gets done, I will get them bubbling and add salt and butter and see what I can serve up. But for the moment, it’s me and Gautier and Barthes and Kardec in a bizarre and debilitating mindmeld from which only one of us will emerge, and I’m the only one still alive so shit, it better be me.
3. The Future (is full of big stunted butterflies)
Despite all the dissertating, I managed to write a few things last year and at least two of them are going to burst gloriously from the chrysalis of my skull into the world and I am predictably very excited about them. The short story “Skills to Keep the Devil in His Place”—which a couple readers may recognize as the piece from which I read an excerpt at the Midwestern Gothic reading in September—will appear in the always gorgeous Shimmer magazine. A short, creepy fictional monologue about rats and secrets is also forthcoming at Pseudopod, and I am really excited to hear someone read it aloud as a podcast.
Crossing my fingers for more good news, and I’ll let you know if there is some.