Michael Swanwick's Blog, page 13

Congratulations to Sergio Rebolledo!!!

 .

I confess that I was not aware of the Frank R. Paul Awards science fiction art, which were given annually by the con committee of Kubla-Khan from 1976 through 1996. And which have just now been resurrected, thanks to the efforts of Frank Wu and friends. But I learned of them yesterday, when Neil Clarke (of Clarkesworld) introduced me to artist Sergio Rebolledo, who was a nominee. Like Neil himself, Sergio is quite a likeable guy.

The awards were announced at the Buffalo NASFIC last night. On the road, with the con behind me, I logged onto the Internet and discovered that the winner for Best Magazine Cover was Rebolledo. That's it up above.

Which makes that brief encounter one of the highlights of the NASFIC for me.

I should mention that the winner for Best Book Cover was Kurt Miller for Lineage: Ravages of Honor, Book 3. You can see the cover and/or buy the book here.

You can read the entire list of nominees and honorable mentions here. 

And if you're wondering who Frank R. Paul was . . .

Shame on you! Frank R. Paul was the single best cover artist of the Hugo Gernsback era, responsible for images that were vivid, exciting, and absolutely gonzo.

I recommend you go to Google Images and search for his images. You won't be disappointed.

*

E-Book Sale! In the Drift! Thursday Only!

 .

 

As happens often enough Open Road Media is placing my first novel, In the Drift on sale for one day only. That's $1.99 on this Thursday, July 18, 2024 in the US only.

And if you're curious about the title . . .

The novel is set in the aftermath of a full meltdown at Three Mile Island. Most of Pennsylvanis is uninhabitable, Philadelphia is ruled by Mummers, and the uninhabitable area is known as the Drift. Because it's where radioactive isotopes have drifted and fallen to earth. When I was writing it, the book was titled The Drift. It was bought for Terry Carr's Ace Specials line and promptly re-titled In the Drift.

When I asked why the change, I was told that my title sounded like a horror title, like The Fog et al. Fair enough. I didn't much like the title but, not having a better alternative to offer, I went with it.

(Background info: The book was a fix-up of three sequential novellas with connective material. The first novella was titled "Mummer Kiss.")

Time passed. The novel sold to France. I got a copy of the translation. They had re-titled it Baiser du Masque. I got out my French dictionary to see what that meant.

Mummer Kiss. The perfect title was staring me in the face all along.

*

Smek.

 

 

Alvaro Zinos-Amaro and Me on the Coode Street Podcast

 .

Alvaro Zinos-Amaro's first novel, Equimedian, has been described as "a love letter to the SF  of the '70s and '80s." Which I suspect is going to be the standard description of this book. So Gary K. Wolfe and Jonathan Strahan invited Alvaro to discuss it, along with last year's non-fiction book-length interview with me, Being Michael Swanwick on their Coode Street Podcast.

I was a participant in the conversation, so I realize that you're going to take my recommendation with a grain of salt. But I think it was pretty darn good--and I've been in enough public conversations where I was less than stellar to know the difference.

If you're curious, you can find the podcast here.  You should check it out. It's an hour well wasted.

And . . .

Just to be clear, I greatly enjoyed Equimedian. You don't need to know science fiction in the extraordinary depth that Zinos-Amaro does to appreciate it. And the completely satisfying ending took me by surprise. You have no idea how rarely a book does that.

As for Being Michael Swanwick, it's a story-by-story examination of every work of short fiction I ever published as of when the book came out. And now you know whether you want to read it or not. Nothing I could say would change your decision one way or the other.

Isn't that charmingly modest of me? I am the king of the soft sell!

*

What I'm Currently Working On

.

 

 

As a writer, you get used to it. An old friend says hi, and then immediately follows up with, "What are you working on?"

 

When I'm partway through a novel, the answer is easy. Because writing a novel is an all-consuming thing. I might be able to squeeze in a short story, written piecemeal in those random bits of dead time when I'm not researching, writing, editing, or revising the novel. But it's just a sideshow.

 

Right now, however, I still haven't decided what my next novel should be. So, pictured above, is the stack of files containing close to everything I'm working on at the moment. That comes to: 

 

Four novel openings, ranging from 8 to 49 pages.

One essay.

One book introduction (for a reprint of somebody else's book).

Two beginnings of collaborative stories that may or may ever happen. The Eileen Gunn one will have to wait for her to finish her novel.

Five partially written short stories.

A file of six (one to two page) story openings: "Saint Jerry the Hermit," "Two Riders," "The Werewolf in Winter,""Dinosaur on the Moon," "The Water People," and "Mercury is Hell."

 

"The Werewolf in Winter" may well get written someday, just because that's a nifty title. The other brief story openings, probably not. The rest (with the exception of one-to-three novels) will all certainly be done someday, though it may take quite a while for some of them.

Right now, I grab the stack of files, look through it to see what I feel like working on, then sit down and add a page or six, or possible a paragraph, or else, like Oscar Wilde, I may laboriously remove a word I'd previously spent a day inserting. This is the glamour and magic of an author's life.

It's not the best way to write. (It can't possibly be!) But it's the one I'm stuck with.

*

Rhymer by Gregory Frost (A Review)

.

 

 

Today, I'm posting a straightforward book review of a fantasy novel I admire a great deal... 

 

Rhymer by Gregory Frost (Tor Books)

 

GregoryFrost’s Rhymer is easily the best thing I’ve read in the past year. It’sa… and already I’m having trouble finding the right descriptors. Initially, itlooks to be a Celtic fantasy, with Thomas the Rhymer waging a one-man waragainst all Faerie. But the elves, it turns out, are an invading alien speciesfrom another dimension, so it’s actually science fiction. Oh, and because Frostkeeps the historical events consistent with those we know, it’s also a secrethistory. And the elves themselves are straight out of a horror novel. But itcould also be that it’s actually an alternate history.

 

Let mestart over again.

 

ThomasLindsay Rimor de Erceldoune is mad, to begin with. Mad and cursed with the giftof prophecy, he is clearly a precursor to or avatar of Tom O’Bedlam. One night,the Queen of Faerie comes hunting with her elf-troop and takes True Thomas’sbrother away with her as a sacrifice to the Teind. On a whim, she cures Tom ofhis madness (but not his visions, which take the form of epileptic seizures andprophesies he cannot understand). This, as it turns out, is the biggest mistakeshe will ever make.

 

Thenewly-rational protagonist learns of the elven/alien plot to firstreverse-terraform and then take over our planet. Being immortal, they can taketheir time. Being shape-shifters, they can assume powerful positions in humansociety. To oppose them, Tom must first learn how to use weapons. And beforethat, because even a hero must eat, he must learn a trade, that ofstone-cutter.  

 

Everyoneknows the pleasures we expect from an action-adventure novel and Frost deliversthem most ably. But he’s also too canny a writer to give you exactlywhat you’re expecting. Through all the many twists and turns of plot, hecarefully avoids those that have grown trite and predictable through overuse. Andthough True Thomas is the hero his world needs—experiences he’d much rather haveavoided have made him immortal and given him the elven power of glamour—he’salso a convincing human being in a world that is recognizably our own. He hasfriends and family and loyalties and, in the course of events, a wife.

 

This wifeis Janet of the green kirtle who, in the Child ballad “Tam Lin” (Thomas hasmany names in the course of his long life), saves her own true love from theFairy Queen, and she is one of the most engaging aspects of this novel. Notonly is she stalwart and capable enough to rescue Thomas from the darkest nightof his soul but she is convincing as his spouse as well. They two form aworking marriage, a union of peers whose support for each other strengthens themboth. And how often do you see that in a fantasy novel?

 

There isso much to praise about Rhymer! All the characters in it ring true. Thestonemasons sound like working class men. (When Thomas’ mentor, Alpin Waldroup,is asked in what battle he was injured, he replies, “Has it a name? I neverheard it.”) The elves are everything that’s wrong about aristocrats, and thensome.  The worldbuilding, both of Faerieand the Scottish Borders, is exemplary. I could go on and on. Suffice it to saythat Gregory Frost has done the hard work that is the making of a great bookand reimagined everything about it afresh. This is one hell of a satisfyingnovel.

 

Much morecould be said. But I will stop here, before I drown you in a sea ofsuperlatives.

 

In the wayof such fantasies, there are two more volumes on their way. Rhymer: Hoode,in which True Thomas assumes the guise of a certain bow-carrying outlaw,available now, and a third book, which I understand will be set in Elizabethantimes, will follow soon. As of this writing, I am midway through the second andavid to read number three.

 

*

 

@font-face {font-family:"Cambria Math"; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-536870145 1107305727 0 0 415 0;}@font-face {font-family:Calibri; panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:swiss; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-536859905 -1073732485 9 0 511 0;}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi; mso-font-kerning:1.0pt; mso-ligatures:standardcontextual;}p.MsoListParagraph, li.MsoListParagraph, div.MsoListParagraph {mso-style-priority:34; mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-qformat:yes; margin-top:0in; margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in; margin-left:.5in; mso-add-space:auto; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi; mso-font-kerning:1.0pt; mso-ligatures:standardcontextual;}p.MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst, li.MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst, div.MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst {mso-style-priority:34; mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-type:export-only; margin-top:0in; margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in; margin-left:.5in; mso-add-space:auto; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi; mso-font-kerning:1.0pt; mso-ligatures:standardcontextual;}p.MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle, li.MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle, div.MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle {mso-style-priority:34; mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-type:export-only; margin-top:0in; margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in; margin-left:.5in; mso-add-space:auto; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi; mso-font-kerning:1.0pt; mso-ligatures:standardcontextual;}p.MsoListParagraphCxSpLast, li.MsoListParagraphCxSpLast, div.MsoListParagraphCxSpLast {mso-style-priority:34; mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-type:export-only; margin-top:0in; margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in; margin-left:.5in; mso-add-space:auto; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi; mso-font-kerning:1.0pt; mso-ligatures:standardcontextual;}.MsoChpDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; mso-default-props:yes; font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}div.WordSection1 {page:WordSection1;}

Happy Birthday, Karen E. Quinones Miller!

 .

Once upon a time, there was a young woman from Harlem and the Bronx who, because she was intellectually gifted, was offered a place in an overwhelmingly white school. She didn't want to go. A family friend, Mr. Johnson, a nice man who loved children, asked her why not. Eventually, she admitted it was because she wore hand-me-down clothes and didn't want the white children laughing at her.

Seriously, solemnly, he explained to her the importance of education and why she should make the best of herself that she possibly could. What he said made sense and she agreed to go. Shortly after, he gave her parents enough money to buy outfits for her new school

It was only years later, at his funeral, that she would realize that this kindly man was Bumpy Johnson, the "Harlem Godfather."

Karen E. Quinones Miller went on to join the Navy, get a degree in journalism, and work as a reporter for the Virginian-Pilot and the Philadelphia Inquirer. Her first novel, Satin Doll, got multiple rejections, so she published it herself to such success that Simon-Schuster won reprint rights in an auction. She went on to publish another seven novels and become an acknowledged authority on Harlem history.

Oh, and she became friends with Mayme H. Johnson, Bumpy's widow and co-wrote with her Harlem Godfather; the Rap on My Husband, Ellsworth "Bumpy" Johnson, the first ever biography of that complex man. Because Ms. Miller is the sort of person who always repays a kindness.

I was present when Karen was one of fifty writers picked by the city of Philadelphia to be recognized in the Philadelphia Literary Legacy project. The mayor of Philadelphia was introduced to her and he was clearly impressed.

All of which is buildup to this:

Today is Karen's birthday! If you like her, or women like her, please share so that others can look up her books and be made happy by them.

*

One-Day E-Book Sales! Three Days Only!

.

 

As happens from time to time, I've been notified by Open Road Media, who publish several of my e-books, that they're putting one of my books up for sale, one day only. Sometimes I learn of more than one sale in the space of a couple of days.

So I'm pleased to let you know that there will be three one-day sales this month. 

The first is for Jack Faust, which will be available for $1.99 ( US only) on this Friday, June 21st.

The second is for (again) Jack Faust, which will be available for $1.99 ( US only) on the following Friday, June 28th.

The third is for The Iron Dragon's Daughter, which will be available for $1.99 (in Canada and the US only) on Sunday, June 30th. 

So if you enjoy e-books and like getting them cheap... And if you're curious about two of my best novels... Well, here's your chance to consider buying one or two.

There. You won't get a softer sales pitch than that.

 

Above: I grabbed two of the books with the covers I like best and photographed them atop my desk. Marianne Porter, my wife, says that you have only so much organization in your life. No matter how much effort you invest in trying, you can't increase that amount--you can only decide where it goes. A great deal of organization goes into my work. Not so much into my workspace.

* 

A Taste of The War With the Zylv

.

 

This Saturday at noon, Marianne Porter puts Dragonstairs Press's latest chapbook, The War With the Zylv on sale. That's at noon, East Coast Time. The chapbook is signed, numbered, lovingly stitched, and available for $11 within the US and $13 elsewhere, postage included. 

The story was inspired by Ariel Cinii's artwork reproduced above and used by permission of the artist's estate.

And just so you can have an idea of what the story is like, here's the first of six chapters:

FirstContact

 

They camein peace.

 

The Zylvship—sprawling, sinister, and elegant—entered the Solar System on a tight,sun-grazing vector, exiting and re-entering repeatedly over the next twentyyears, dumping velocity with every passage. All the while radiating attemptsacross the electromagnetic spectrum to communicate with whomever might beliving here: One plus one equals two. Two times two is four. The square of thehypotenuse. Pi. The Fibonacci sequence. Quadratic equations. Chaos theory. Aform of combinatorics no one could make any sense of.

 

Earthresponded as best we could. Once the conversation moved beyond mathematics, itbecame obvious how different the Zylv were from Terran lifeforms. Slowly,painfully, a common pidgin was created. Neither species learned much about theother. But by the time the Zylv ship—dark, gothic, and miles-long—had settledinto a parking orbit around the Moon, it was hoped that with physical contact,it would be possible to move beyond COME VISIT. ALL LEARN.

 

I was ajunior assistant nobody on the first embassy mission to the Zylv ship. Theinterior was humid and murkily lit, which made sense because we knew alreadythat the Zylv came from a planet orbiting a red sun. The air smelled like across between turpentine and the reptile house in the zoo. At the far end of animprobably large space were creatures—the Zylv, we assumed, though our tokenbiologists thought they were six different species—that moved listlessly, like somany barnyard animals, and did not approach us.

 

There wasalso a large screen. On it, a word: WELCOME. Our spokesperson began a carefullycomposed speech in pidgin.

 

The firstword was replaced by a second: BREATHE. As if we had a choice.

 

Then twomore: NOW LEAVE.

 

Thescreen went dead. A partition rose to separate us from the beings that might ormight not be our hosts. Though we stayed far longer than made any sense, therewas no further attempt to communicate on the part of the Zylv.

 

Eventually,because there was no alternative, we went back home to Earth.

 

Quarantinewas supposed to be a formality. But then one of us came down sick. Followedquickly by the rest. A virus, moon-suited biologists told us. Of alien origin.

 

BREATHEthe Zylv had commanded.

 

And, likefools, we’d obeyed.

 

*

@font-face {font-family:"Cambria Math"; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-536870145 1107305727 0 0 415 0;}@font-face {font-family:"Adobe Caslon Pro"; panose-1:2 5 5 2 5 5 10 2 4 3; mso-font-charset:77; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-format:other; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:7 1 0 0 147 0;}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; mso-pagination:none; mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";}.MsoChpDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; mso-default-props:yes; font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}div.WordSection1 {page:WordSection1;}

Ariel Cinii's Chapbook

.

TheWar with the Zylv, Marianne Porter's latest DragonstairsPress chapbook, goes on sale this Saturday at noon, Philadelphia time, and since it is printed in an edition of 100 (numbered, signed, and hand-stitched) chapbooks, could take hours to sell out.

The story itself is a science fiction tale of first contact, invasion, and war with an alien species. It was inspired by a piece of artwork by Ariel Cinii, which is reproduced on its cover.

But who was Ariel Cinii?

Goodquestion. Ms. Cinii, who also used the names Abra Cinii, Sodyera,and Winterbrucke, but was known to her friends as Abby, was an activemember of science fiction fandom as a filk singer-songwriter, artist,and all-around fan. She was also the first openly trans individual infandom.

If I ever met her, it was one of those myriad acquaintances where you chat amiably on occasion and after a couple of years realize that it's too late to politely ask for a name without giving offense. But at Boskone, a month short of three years after her death,her friends had a table at which they were cheerily giving away herart to whoever wanted it. How could they possibly bring themselves todo this? Well... it turns out that she left behind some 1,300 worksof art. Giving it to the community she loved seemed to them the bestway they could keep her memory alive.

Theseare, yes, fan art in their themes—spaceships, aliens, futuristiccars, fantastic cities, and the like. But the skill and care thatwent into the art and its preservation indicate a high seriousness onMs. Cinii's part. Which combined with elaborate symbols with whichshe labeled her pictures in her invented language Sartine, puts herin a nebulous space somewhere between “fan art” and “high art.”Let's just call it art.

Ipicked up three 17” x 14” images and over the following monthswould look at them and think about what stories they might tell. Whenone came to me that I felt would make a good story, I pitched it toMarianne. She agreed that it would be an appropriate way to pay backMs. Cinii (and her friends) for the artwork.

And,you may ask, did we . . . ?

Yes,of course. Marianne and I paid Ariel Cinii's estate for the use of herartwork.

Thisis a motto and a matter of honor in our household: The Artist Always GetPaid. I've known artists to break out in laughter when I saythat. But we're sticking to it. Because it's how one shows respectfor the artist.

Thiswas the other way we paid back Ms. Cinii for her work.

*

On Strike Against God--And In Print Again!

 .

 

Look what came in the mail! Joanna Russ's brilliant On Strike Against God is back in print again. This is reason to rejoice. 

Most of Joanna's fans aren't aware of this book because it's not science fiction. It's a highly figurative mainstream feminist lesbian novel which was written immediately after The Female Man and because it's a highly figurative feminist lesbian novel, none of the major publishers would touch it. Despite the fact that Samuel R. Delany thinks that it's Joanna's best novel

Why? Well, I could gush about the prose, the writing, the brilliance, but instead I'll just quote a brief but typical passage. Esther, the protagonist is enduring a difficult but typical date when the man in question leans forward and says:

"You're strange creatures, you women intellectuals. Tell me: What's it like to be a woman?"

I took my rifle from behind my chair and shot him. "It's like that," I said. No, of course I didn't.

Now either you find that simultaneously horrific and laugh-out-loud funny or you don't. If you don't, well... Horseman, pass by. But if you do, I can assure you that On Strike Against God is a joy and a delight. 

You can pre-order it from The Feminist Press here. This volume includes several essays about the book, correspondence with Marilyn Hacker, an interview with Samuel R. Delany, and two essays on related matters by Joana herself. Joanna was a brilliant essayist. Her non-fiction crackled with ideas. If you doubt me, go to Interlibrary Loan and request a copy of How to Suppress Women's Writing. You won't regret it.

*