Michael Swanwick's Blog, page 53

A Page From the Scribblehobbledehoydenii

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"Michael? Michael! This is yourself from the future..."

"Excuse me, what?"

"I'm you. From the far reaches of January 2021.Okay, I realize that's only twelve months from where you are, but..."

"Wow. What's with the hair? Have I joined some kind of anti-grooming cult?"

"That's the first thing I want to talk to you about. Go out and get a haircut, as short as you can bear it to be. Do it today. But first buy six months' worth of toilet paper. Never mind why."

"Um... Okay."

"Oh, and all that dystopian science fiction you're writing? Scrap it! From now on, it's fuzzy space bunnies and cuddly unicorns only. Your editors will thank you for it."

"I really don't think..."

"Don't think at all. Get your eyeglass prescription checked now. Visit the dentist. Go to a rock concert--I don't care if you like the group or not, just go. Eat out. Hug your friends. You're not going to be doing that again for a long, long time. Hell, hug your enemies. You're never going to be doing that again ever. Oh, and buy a good webcam while they're still cheap. Get a Zoom account. Your son will explain what that is. Are you writing this all down?"

"I think I've got it all. Anything else?"

"Just one more thing. A couple of months from now you're going to be tempted to make remarks about how much better than 2020 the year 2021 is going to be. You'll feel better about yourself afterward if you refrain from doing so."

"But..."

"Don't ask. You'll learn soon enough."

Above: The Scribbledehobbledehoydenii (singular Scribbledehobbledehoyden) is the proper title of my notebooks.

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The Godless Atheist Christmas Card of the Year 2020

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"I'm with your father. I didn't think I thought nothing this year was going to rise to the level of winner. But it turns out there's serious competiton here." (A BRNAANPOF member) 

The planet has spun about the Sun again and the time has come for the annual Godless Atheist Christmas Card of the Year competition. Going into the judging the Blue Ribbon Not At All Nepotistic Panel of Family was greatly dispirited by the preponderance of spiritual and even overtly religious cards received in the wake of an admittedly hard year. But when the nitty got down to the gritty, our friends had come through. The will to avoid any reference to the reason to be sending out Christmas cards in the first place was strong in them.

Here are some of the comments that were made about the eight finalists (above):

 Top, Second from Right: "A cheerless, empty bench and slush on the George Washington Bridge. I think that says it all." (countered by:) "This is a traditional nature's beauty shot of a stream in winter and a lone deer but for people who are never more than a quarter-mile from a Jewish deli. It's Christmassy."

 Top Right: "Three polar bears contemplating the onset of global warming with despair. I've rarely been so depressed by a Christmas card." (countered by:) "However, I would argue that the card bespeaks a love of nature with a desire to see the world become better. I'm not saying it's not despairing. But it's not the Godless Atheist Christmas Card of the Year."

 Bottom, Second from Left: "Santa on a Segway is mere alliteration. The steampunk goggles don't help" (another BRNAANPOF member amplified:) "He's an old man. He's wearing the trendy fashion accessories of a decade ago. This is a card that throws away all yesterday's traditions. That's Boomer Santa!"

 Top, Second from Left: "A mouse in a Santa Worm costume atop a cat that is clearly contemplating eating it. I think we're all disturbed by this one." (countered by:) "Yes, but it's not enough for a card to be Atheist. It must flaunt its Atheism."

 Bottom Left: "Christmas Love: A squirrel stealing a candy cane from a bloated pluto-cat." (and:) "Nothing says Christmas like theft."

Bottom Right: "This is Zsa Zsa Gabor Decorates a Window on Fifth Avenue for the Season. It has nothing to do with the season. It's bright and cheerful and pleasant to look at. But with no spiritual content.

  Bottom, Second from Left: "A series of hand-shadow instructions--two pages of them! This has nothing to do with Christmas, God, spirituality, or even winter. It would be appropriate for the April issue of Boys Life."

  Top Left: "The simple natural beauty of snowflakes rendered sterile and meaningless by abstraction and the addition of expensive but morally empty blood diamonds. Ivanka Trump could have sent this card."

As you can tell, this was a spirited debate. But in the end, there can only be one. And it was that last, irrefutable sentence that settled matters. So here, with all appropriate fanfare is the... Godless Atheist Christmas Card of the Year for 2020:

 

 And may the coming year be an improvement over the last one, with this past week thrown in for good measure.

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January 6, 2020

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.I don't know if you've noticed, but the media are full ...

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I don't know if you've noticed, but the media are full of articles and cartoons about how dreary it is to be self-isolated in this Age of the 'Rona. Dreary stuff. That's why I haven't said a word about it. We all know it's here, we all know what we should do about it, we don't need to be lectured about it one more goddamned time.

But Better Times Will Come. That's what Janis Ian tells us and I believe her!

Janis wrote this song to encourage us when times were darkest and then gave it over to other musicians to spread the word. As a writer and (cough) creator, I can see what she was doing with the above video: A simple song in the tradition of early twentieth century American songsmiths, most of whom were anonymous. No instruments, so that other musicians won't be intimidated (Janis knows her way around a guitar). A simple schematic. And lyrics that won't die when the pandemic are over. They'll be a voice for optimism when it's needed most for... well, forever.

I offer this up to you as my New Year's post. Every word of it is true. Wait and see. This year's going to be great.

Oh, and if you doubt me, there are over 100 different versions of the song to be heard here.

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In the Drift e-Book Sale! This Sunday Only!!!

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For some reason Open Road Media has been putting a lot of my e-books on one-day sales recently. Here's the latest:

 

Dear Michael Swanwick,

We are pleased to let you know that the following ebook(s) will be featured in price promotions soon.

ISBN13 Title Author Promo Type Country Start Date End Date Promo Price 9781504036474 In the Drift Swanwick, Michael ORM - Portalist NL US 2021-01-03 2021-01-03 $1.99 9781504036474 In the Drift Swanwick, Michael ORM - Portalist NL CA 2021-01-03 2021-01-03 $1.99

Open Road will promote the feature via social media. We hope you can share the deal with your network as well. You can subscribe to the newsletters at the links below so that you will get the direct link to the deal on the day that it appears.

Newsletter Link   Early Bird Books     Subscribe Now   The Lineup Subscribe Now The Portalist Subscribe Now Murder & Mayhem Subscribe Now A Love So True Subscribe Now The Archive Subscribe Now The Reader Subscribe Now

 And so . . .

I've shared the info, as requested. If you''re an e-book reader and you've been curious about my first novel... well, there's your chance.

 

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My Favorite New Writer

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It's been a pleasant Christmas season here in Philadelphia, with homemade candies and cookies, some wonderful meals, and a lot of thoughtful presents. But the big winner on the present front was Sean William Swanwick, who received in the mail a copy of the January-February 2021 issue of Asimov's Science Fiction, containing his first published story, "Humans and Other People."

A writer's first publication is always a big deal for them. But this was particularly so for Sean because he knew Gardner Dozois, the editor of Asimov's for nineteen years, all his life. More than that, Sean worked as Gardner's office manager for the last several years of the Big Guy's life. So the magazine is a kind of second home for him.

Congratulations, Sean! Now, get back to the keyboard.

 

And I'm sure you want to know . . .

The obvious next question is... Is "Humans and Other People" any good?

Yes.

Yes, it is a first-rate story. I know that as his father my word is suspect here, but if you're a doubter, buy a copy of the magazine and read it for yourself. More important (to my mind anyway), is the fact that it's not a story I could have written myself. The kid has a good eye and an original mind.

You're going to be hearing a lot more from Sean in coming years. He's  got the stuff.

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Jack Faust E-Book Sale! Tuesday Only!!!

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 I've just received the news that for this Tuesday, December 29th, 2020 only, the e-book my novel Jack Faust will be on sale for $1.99 in Canada and the US.

 So if you read e-books and if you've always been curious about this novel... well, here's your chance!

Um... and that's all. End of pitch.

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A Christmas Eve Story

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Manger Animals

 

There is a legend that on Christmas Eve the animals can talk.  Yet of all the many animals you’ve known or owned, be they pets or next-door dogs or half-tame squirrels that you almost got to accept a peanut out of your hand once, none have ever done remotely anything like that.

 

Yet the legend is true.  It just doesn’t apply to all animals.  It applies only to those who were in one specific manger on the outskirts of Bethlehem two thousand something years ago.  These were all made immortal by the Infant Jesus who, like any other child, had an inordinate fondness for dumb beasts.  And for 364 days of the year (365 on leap years) they’re dumb in both senses of the word.

 

Ahhh, but on Christmas Eve . . .

 

On Christmas Eve, the cow and the donkey and the little goat that gnawed on Baby Jesus’s blanket are given the gift of speech.  As are the two lambs who wandered in looking for fodder, the camels who carried the magi to the event and then stuck their noses in the window to see what was going on, and the pigeons who fluttered in the rafters while Joseph muttered angrily about their droppings.

 

“It was a night much like this one . . .” the cow begins.

 

“No, quieter,” says a camel.  “There weren’t so many cars back then.”

 

“It was cold outside,” says a lamb.  “But I found a warm spot to sleep right over there.”

 

“I gnawed on a blanket,” says the goat proudly.  “But somebody yanked it away.”

 

“I wonder who?” murmurs a dove.  For animals have very little sense of what is and is not important, once you move away from the compelling subjects of food and sleep.  The fact that there were people present two thousand years ago is almost forgotten.  Who those people might have been is entirely beyond their ken.

 

Still, like any other old-timers, they do enjoy reminiscing.

 

“They don’t make oats the way they used to,” says the donkey.  “And that’s a fact.”

 

 

"Manger Animals" is copyright 2011 by Michael Swanwick. It first appeared in It Came Upon A Midnight, a Dragonstairs Press chapbook.

 

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The Parable of the Creche

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This is a story I post here once a year, because the message is timeless. Grab your chocolate or eggnog and find a cozy place by the fire. It's time for Unca Mike to tell you...

The Parable of the Creche

When first I came to Roxborough, some forty years ago, the creche as  already a tradition of long standing. Every year it appeared in Gorgas Park during the Christmas season. It wasn't all that big--maybe seven feet high at the tip of the roof--nor was it very fancy. The figures of Joseph and Mary, the Christ Child, and the animals were a couple of feet tall at most, and there were sheets of Plexiglas over the front of the wooden structure to keep people from walking off with them. But there was a painted backdrop of the hills of Bethlehem at night, the floor was strewn by real straw, and the neighborhood people genuinely loved it.

 It was a common thing to see people standing before the creche, especially families and especially at night, admiring it. Sometimes parents brought their small children to see it for the first time nd the wonder they displayed then was moving. It provided a welcome touch of seasonality and community to the park.

Alas, Gorgas Park is public property, and it was only a matter of time before somebody complained that the creche violated the principle of separation of church and state. When the complaint finally came, the creche was taken out of the park and put in storage.

People were upset, of course. Nobody likes seeing a beloved tradition die. There was a certain amount of grumbling and disgruntlement. One might even say disgrumblement.

So the kindly folks of Leverington Presbyterian Church, located just across the street from the park, stepped in. They adopted the creche and put it up in the yard in front of their church, where it could be seen and enjoyed by all.

But did this make up happy? It did not. The creche was just not the same located in front of a church. It seemed lessened, in some strange way, made into a prop for the Presbyterians. You don't see people standing in front of it anymore.

I was in a local tappie shortly after the adoption and heard one of the barflies holding forth on this very subject:

"The god-damned Christians," he said, "have hijacked Christmas."

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.This is a story I post here once a year, because the me...

 .

This is a story I post here once a year, because the message is timeless. Grab your chocolate or eggnog and find a cozy place by the fire. It's time for Unca Mike to tell you...

The Parable of the Creche

When first I came to Roxborough, some forty years ago, the creche as  already a tradition of long standing. Every year it appeared in Gorgas Park during the Christmas season. It wasn't all that big--maybe seven feet high at the tip of the roof--nor was it very fancy. The figures of Joseph and Mary, the Christ Child, and the animals were a couple of feet tall at most, and there were sheets of Plexiglas over the front of the wooden structure to keep people from walking off with them. But there was a painted backdrop of the hills of Bethlehem at night, the floor was strewn by real straw, and the neighborhood people genuinely loved it.

 It was a common thing to see people standing before the creche, especially families and especially at night, admiring it. Sometimes parents brought their small children to see it for the first time nd the wonder they displayed then was moving. It provided a welcome touch of seasonality and community to the park.

Alas, Gorgas Park is public property, and it was only a matter of time before somebody complained that the creche violated the principle of separation of church and state. When the complaint finally came, the creche was taken out of the park and put in storage.

People were upset, of course. Nobody likes seeing a beloved tradition die. There was a certain amount of grumbling and disgruntlement. One might even say disgrumblement.

So the kindly folks of Leverington Presbyterian Church, located just across the street from the park, stepped in. They adopted the creche and put it up in the yard in front of their church, where it could be seen and enjoyed by all.

But did this make up happy? It did not. The creche was just not the same located in front of a church. It seemed lessened, in some strange way, made into a prop for the Presbyterians. You don't see people standing in front of it anymore.

I was in a local tappie shortly after the adoption and heard one of the barflies holding forth on this very subject:

"The god-damned Christians," he said, "have hijacked Christmas."

*