Chuck Wendig's Blog, page 50

Running A Con, Conference Or Festival In The Age Of A Burgeoning Pandemic!

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Hey, so, I’ve got some travel upcoming here in the next handful of months — Tucson Festival of Books in March, Pike’s Peak Writer’s Conference (Colorado Springs) in April, and I’m giving the keynote address at the Writer’s Digest Conference in NYC in August. There is also, in case you haven’t heard, a probable pandemic attempting to throttle the globe right now.

Let’s talk about the pandemic part.

Now, let’s say up front that, presently, COVID-19 or SARS2-COV or SARS 2: VIRAL BOOGALOO, represents no need to run around with your head on fire. In the wise words of Douglas Adams, DON’T PANIC. We have relatively few cases here in the USA, and outside China, it remains so far slower than maybe some have expected. And presently, it would seem as if the overall illness is mild for most, excepting those over 60 or the immunocompromised.

But, let’s also be clear, those over 60, and the immunocompromised, aren’t nothing. They’re a sizable population and are (gasp) people, just the same. Further, novel coronavirus (which is not, sadly, a coronavirus that reads novels) is a fast-moving unknown. We don’t know everything about it yet. It presently seems to have a mortality rate of 2%, which is low, though considerably higher than you get with an average flu year, which is ~0.2% — but, again, those numbers could change. Ideally, it goes down, because as we understand it more and get ahead of it, it cuts fatalities. But it could also go up. (Let’s recall that the 1918 Spanish flu started out mild.) And two percent is still pretty scary! If even 20% of the global population catches it, as they did with swine flu in 2009, that’s 1.5 billion people. If two percent of them die, that’s 30 million people.

And so we’re looking around the world and you’re seeing China’s quarantine, Italy’s quarantine, Japan canceling schools for the next month, and so forth. WHO and CDC have both said it may leap containment efforts, and of course, we had our president* last night get on TV to ensure us that everything was in good hands, which is the surest sign we’re in very bad hands. (Worse is that he gave over control of the response to Mike Pence, who to be fair is very good at outbreaks, given that he helped cause one — HIV — in his own state. I’m sure this charisma-zero homophobic human thumb will gladly relegate our fates to The Lord, given he seems to deny science at every turn.) It is a fair bet that, were this to become a pandemic, we’d see some troubling pressure on our own healthcare system, which is currently stacked against those without robust insurance (like, say, writers and other creatives), and which often features hospital systems whose funding has been cut.

Anyway, point is, we don’t know how serious it is, only that it has the potential for seriousness. This doesn’t mean panicking. This isn’t The Stand. Or, ahem, cough cough, Wanderers (though I am aware of uhh some of the similarities!). But it probably ain’t great.

Am I an expert in any of this? Hardly. I just try to keep up to date on what’s up while simultaneously not fall for conspiracy theories or mis/disinformation. (Harder than you’d think in this age, sadly.)

So, now we circle back around to say —

Hey, there are a lot of conventions, conferences and festivals coming up.

For me, these are writing- or book-related, but again, I see a lot on the horizon and some that just recently passed: toys, electronics, food service, etc.

It’s convention season.

And, apparently, coronavirus season.

So, if you’re running just such a conference, lemme give you some advice:

Get ahead of this now.

Do not make us e-mail you to ask you what’s up.

This isn’t about causing panic — it’s about undercutting it. It’s about reassuring us that you have this in your mind, with plans forming.

You should let us know:

a) What if we have to drop out? Whether we have a health issue or fear one, whether we have immunocompromised or elderly folks in our life that we don’t want to infect, what-have-you, can we do that? It’d be nice to have that option. As a writer, a lot of our creative ilk don’t have the kind of money in our lives or time to get sick, much less suffer the slings and arrows of an as-yet-mysterious respiratory illness. This goes double if you’re not paying us to be there.

b) How you will ensure healthy best practices at the event? Ideally, you’ll give out hand sanitizers and not require us to share them. Perhaps have masks available, though recognize the value of such masks is debated, and are often best for those with symptoms. Will you remind attendees that shaking hands with guests is not advisable? Because it isn’t. Let’s encourage elbow bumps or waves or bowing to each other or whatever. Long-distance mime greetings!

c) WILL YOU OFFER US PROTECTIVE BUBBLES okay no not that one

d) Are you considering canceling the event? Presumably you have insurance that handles that, but again, let us know, keep us in the loop. Let us know what that looks like, and by when you would make that decision. This sounds extreme, but consider that a lot of industries have begun to cancel their industry-wide events. I can’t speak to other attendees, but I actually want to know if you’ve considered it, because it means you’re taking this seriously, and care more about your attendees than you do your bottom line, difficult though I know that would be.

e) Recognize that we’re probably anxious about this. Many of us will go to our events via two or more airports, likely international ones. We will then be at your event with hundreds to thousands of people. If we’re writers, we’re gonna be theoretically up close and personal with folks, signing their books, some want photos — and trust me, writers are already a pretty anxious lot. Our brains are carousels of crawling ants. We’re already imagining worse case scenarios. (Seriously, have you read Wanderers?) You talking to us about that before we have to talk to you about it would be very nice.

f) Recognize too we don’t want to get stuck anywhere. We have families! Pets! Extreme introversion! Note that some people who have traveled overseas have found themselves in exactly this scenario. Best case scenario, it’s a travel delay. Worst case, it’s full restriction or quarantine. Who knows how the fuck this current administration will bungle this up — they might not do anything, or they might clamp down hard when it’s not needed. Either way? We don’t wanna find out. So, what happens if it does? Are you gonna cover our hotels if we’re guests? One night? Ten? Certainly your responsibility ends somewhere, but I’d sure like you to be thinking about that.

g) Don’t just tell us, “We have no cases,” because that isn’t super-relevant right now. It might be more relevant if that’s true the day of the event — but unless your event is today, we are being warned to expect clusters to pop up all over. Will it? I dunno. I’m not Nostradamus. But this is a contagion, and contagion gonna contage. Which isn’t a word, I know, shut up. Also, you having no cases is not relevant to us traveling through airports, which do not abide by the laws of containment. More to the point, don’t make us feel like assholes for being anxious about it, or concerned, or curious.

And surely there’s more you can do — linking to the CDC/WHO, offering up good tips on hygiene and hand-washing, and the like. And I’m certainly missing some things, too. Just, again, don’t make us bug you about it. You bug us. Stay in contact. True too if you’re a workplace or a school. Don’t assume we don’t care or aren’t concerned. Be proactive.

Thanks!

K.S. Villoso: Five Things I Learned Writing The Wolf Of Oren-Yaro

A queen of a divided land must unite her people, even if they hate her, even if it means stopping a ruin that she helped create. A debut epic fantasy from an exciting new voice.

“I murdered a man and made my husband leave the night before they crowned me.”

Born under the crumbling towers of Oren-yaro, Queen Talyien was the shining jewel and legacy of the bloody War of the Wolves that nearly tore her nation apart. Her upcoming marriage to the son of her father’s rival heralds peaceful days to come.

But his sudden departure before their reign begins fractures the kingdom beyond repair.

Years later, Talyien receives a message, urging her to attend a meeting across the sea. It’s meant to be an effort at reconciliation, but an assassination attempt leaves the queen stranded and desperate to survive in a dangerous land. With no idea who she can trust, she’s on her own as she struggles to fight her way home.

* * *

Pronunciation

Do not smash your forehead on the keyboard, stick vowels in, and call it a day. Do not make names up when drunk. Do not let your cat tap-dance on your keyboard and then keep the results. Audiobooks are a thing now, and they’ll make you pronounce everything first. Xyyxthththth’lllagonddir might seem really cool on paper, but you’re going to hate yourself once you realize you have to say it out loud for real people to hear.

Profanity

When you title a series CHRONICLES OF THE BITCH QUEEN you’re going to run into some very interesting problems. I originally self-published the first two books, and trying to run a promotion for it was next to impossible. Ads were constantly denied. I found myself arguing with Amazon employees for weeks on end. “Look,” I’d say, posting screenshots from Merriam-Webster.com. “The first entry says that it’s the term for a female dog and other members of some carnivorous mammals. Seriously, guys, I am not making this up. You guys—you’re discriminating against wolves, dogs, and otters. You wouldn’t flag THE MARE QUEEN, would you? Or the COW PRINCESS?” One employee will often give in and allow it, only for another to flag it a few days later, which means I’ll have to start all over again.

Reviewers have also contacted me about Amazon flagging and holding their reviews, probably out of confusion over why this particular book is attracting so much profanity. Some people turned to creative ways to bypass the filter: “For a complex, nuanced woman character with a very deep, profound, serious character arc, check out the Biatch Queen!” The worst part is that I haven’t actually cursed that much in this book. The main character is royalty. She usually lets her sword talk first.

Do I regret this? Let me get back to you after my mom’s Bible study group is done with it.

Love Interests

Could you have too many? Probably, although I’ve been told this doesn’t count if most of them suck…

Difficult Women

Some people are so used to seeing two-dimensional women in fiction that when one is presented as many male characters are—with not only a character arc, but fully realized problems, challenges, relationships, and desires—it is suddenly too much.

Queen Talyien is not playing second fiddle to anyone’s story. This story is completely hers—and her story is multi-faceted for the very reason that all of us are. Multiple desires, multiple challenges. Complexity not for the sake of, but because humans are complex.

I came across the analogy that writing women characters is like walking on a tightrope. Fictional women are judged as harshly as women in real life. There are acceptable standards of behaviour, and anything past that is scrutinized to the highest degree. A woman can’t be ruthless, but also can’t give in to her emotions; she must be calculated, but not too cold. Often it feels as if she must be able to bend her personality on a whim, depending on what people want from her at any given time. She must be able to read minds.

In many ways, I learned that writing fictional women has a way of breaking the fourth wall, especially when these women are dealing with the consequences of the same sort of harsh judgment readers bestowed on them. It has the interesting side effect of extended conversation beyond the pages.

Gaze

What many people see as “diverse” is my default. This took a while to get my head around. There are so many problems about this, the least of which is that whether I like it or not, my existence is suddenly deemed political. There is also the sense that many people seek diversity in ways that don’t match what I do. Perhaps they are looking for more of the same, just dressed up a little differently. Or they are looking for something different, but easy-to-understand, palatable—a guided tour over a trip into the unknown.

We are all the heroes of our own stories. The world may not always see it that way, though, and redefining your narrative requires care and thought. The struggles we share and relate with may not match the dominant culture—what one sees as heroic, the other sees as weak. Bridging your culture and the dominant culture requires a thorough understanding of both. Sometimes you have to make a decision: play that interpretative tour guide, or decide not to give a fuck altogether and throw the readers into a whole new world that little resembles what they know and understand, with only the promise that it will all be worth it?

I chose the latter; I decided that telling my stories unapologetically is my way of asserting that the struggles of people like me are just as valid and belong in this world. I’m here, doing what I do, and I’m not going away anytime soon.

* * *

K.S. Villoso writes speculative fiction with a focus on deeply personal themes and character-driven narratives. Much of her work is inspired by her childhood in the slums of Taguig, Philippines. She is now living amidst the forest and mountains with her husband, children, and dogs in Anmore, BC.

KS Villoso: Website | Twitter

The Wolf of Oren-Yaro: Indiebound | Amazon | B&N

Wanderers On The Final Stoker Ballot, Holy Shit

So, when I was a kid, I read a lot of horror. I mean, I read across all the genres, really, as I became a rather hungry reader — very early on I had a pretty weird slate of books I was digesting, everything from Stephen King to Douglas Westlake to Douglas Adams, and then that became McCammon, Robin Hobb, Poppy Brite, Christopher Moore, Joe Lansdale, and so on and so forth. I found even when I wasn’t reading things explicitly labeled horror, I found that horror was everywhere, in everything. It escaped its genre labels, and arguably is not, itself, a whole genre — it’s a feeling, a mood, a vibe, and even when it does not suffuse and define a book, you still find it in the books of, say, Christopher Moore or Robin Hobb or, even now, NK Jemisin, Kameron Hurley, and so on. Films, too. Jaws and Alien are not pure “horror” films, but… nyeeaaaaah they’re also horror films. You find horror everywhere, in a lot of stories.

And, certainly, in my own books, too. Not a single one of my books is properly identified as a horror novel, but nearly all of them are horror novels in spirit and soul — horror in the marrow and bone if not the faces they wear. You tell me that Blackbirds or Invasive aren’t horror novels at their nougaty core, and I’ll… well, I dunno, politely disagree. I might also kick you into a pit, also politely.

So, horror means a lot to me as both a genre and in what it can give to nearly any story. And as a kid, I was acutely aware of the awards in 1987 when the novel prize was split between two of my favoritest books, Swan Song by Robert McCammon and King’s Misery.

This is a long walk to a short announcement, then:

Wanderers is now a Stoker nominee for Superior Achievement in a Novel category.

I KNOW.

It made the final ballot with Owl Goingback, Lee Murray, S.P. Miskowski, and Josh Malerman. And in other categories you have friends and awesome folk like Paul Tremblay, Ted Chiang, Sarah Read, Caitlin Starling, Gemma Amor, Marjorie Liu, Neil Gaiman, Colleen Doran, Cullen Bunn, Tim Waggoner, Victor LaValle, Christopher Golden, James A. Moore, Jennifer Brozek… and on and on. It’s an impressive slate (and I’ll note, one that contains a lot of women, because Women in Horror are not contained merely to the month of February). Full list here.

What I’m trying to say is, it’s an honor, and I wish I could go back in time and tell my childhood self, HEY SELF, YOU’RE GONNA BE NOMINATED FOR ONE OF THESE SOMEDAY, my childhood self would probably be like, AHHH, CREEPY OLD BEARD MAN, GET AWAY FROM ME, and then my childhood self would probably stab my adult self with a penknife and bolt for the woods. But then finally, finally when I got the wound to stop bleeding and I was able to hunt my younger self down and tie him to a tree, I’m sure he would very much appreciate the news.

I’m very pleased that this genre-straddling big-ass accidentally-prophetic-oops-sorry book has resonated with people, and honestly, continues to resonate. (Sales on the book have been seriously steady since end of summer, it’s wild, I think word-of-mouth works?! Also publishers who support you and spend money on your book?!)

ANYWAY, thanks, all.

And more Wanderers news soon…

* * *

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WANDERERS: A Novel, out now.

A decadent rock star. A deeply religious radio host. A disgraced scientist. And a teenage girl who may be the world’s last hope. An astonishing tapestry of humanity that Harlan Coben calls “a suspenseful, twisty, satisfying, surprising, thought-provoking epic.”

A sleepwalking phenomenon awakens terror and violence in America. The real danger may not be the epidemic, but the fear of it. With society collapsing—and an ultraviolent militia threatening to exterminate them—the fate of the sleepwalkers and the shepherds who guide them depends on unraveling the mystery behind the epidemic. The terrifying secret will either tear the nation apart—or bring the survivors together to remake a shattered world.

Print: Indiebound | Let’s Play Books (signed) | The Signed Page | B&N | BAM | Amazon

eBook: Amazon | Apple Books | B&N | Kobo | Google Play | BAM

Audio: Audible | Libro.FM

The Perils Of The Pre-Sale, Pre-Pitch Blurb Request

[image error]In the last year or so, I’ve gotten an increasing number of blurb requests for books that are not yet sold to a publisher. They’re “done,” in that the author has completed a draft of some iteration, and gotten an agent with that draft. But the book ain’t really done.

No editor has likely touched it.

No publisher has put the seal-of-approval upon it.

And yet, the author — or, likelier still, the agent — wants a blurb.

(A blurb, to clarify the language, is the marketing text on and in a book where another author says, “ARGUS VAN DORN IS AN AUTEUR TO WATCH. THE SHEPHERD’S WINEBLADE, BOOK ONE OF THE DECIDUOUS CYCLE IS A TOUR DE FORCE MASTERWORK WITH HUNKY FUCKABLE DRAGON CHARACTERS AND TICKLISH, GIDDY PROSE.” A blurb is not, in this instance, meant to discuss the flap-cover or back-cover copy.)

So, why are agents/authors/editors asking for pre-sale, pre-pitch blurbs?

My guess is that having a named, extent author give a pre-emptive seal-of-approval will either help the agent sell the book to an editor, or will help an editor sell the book through to acquisitions. (For those not in the know on this one, an editor wanting to buy the book isn’t enough. They need a lot of acquisitional sign-off, meaning, the publisher needs to wink and nod that they know how to, and are willing to, sell this book. An editor’s love for it surely carries some weight, but is not in any way the deciding factor. The industry thrives on love, but runs on money.)

This may be a bit of a bleed-over from non-fic, where one’s platform isn’t really about general sales reach but also about expertise and connection within the community of a given topic. But I’ve started to see it across fiction, now, too, and uhhh. Ehhmmm.

Let me be indelicate, here:

This fucking sucks.

Now, when I say, this fucking sucks, note that I am speaking for myself, and not for any other author. Other authors might not care about this, or hey, maybe they’re even into the idea.

Me, not so much.

Let’s go through why exactly this is some fucky business.

First, blurbs are already fraught.

Okay? We don’t know how much they matter, and we’re often given almost no time to read the book and write them. Further, the fear is blurbing the wrong book, a fear that applies to both sides of that authorial equation. If I blurb a book that is far outside my own genres and literary comfort zone, will that author’s readers be turned off, or mad at me for it? Will I poison that author’s book by creating in my readers an expectation that their book is very much like my book, even though it’s not at all, and is in fact just a book I really liked? Then there’s the problem of, some authors don’t even read the books they blurb. They just fuckin’ blurb them, or have agents/editors write those blurbs. (For the record, I read the books I blurb. I don’t always read them as well as I’d like, because of the aforementioned too-tight timetables, but I read ’em. And so do the authors I call friends.)

Second, what the hell happens after I blurb it?

Maybe it goes onto get published — yay! Except then it’s going to surely be edited, because a pre-sale book will almost certainly need editing. (Be wary if they tell you it’s all good, ready to publish.) So, it gets edited and… then what? They just take your blurb, a blurb you wrote for a different version of that book, and slap it on? That sucks, because a blurb is a kind of endorsement. And sometimes, books change wildly between the pre-sale draft and what ends up on shelves. (And by the way, this is a good argument for why authors should never, ever blurb without reading the book first. Amazing we have to say that, but seriously, read the books you blurb, okay?) Imagine now that this pre-book you pre-blurbed goes to print with some heinous fuckery in its pages? Or what you like about it was edited out of it? Or it’s taken on a whole new genre? Ugh. Buuuuuut, if they’re not gonna automagically use your blurb, it means you have to read the book again, to re-deliver a new-ish blurb. Or or or, if they’re not gonna use your blurb at all, what was the fucking point?

Third, here’s Katherine Locke and Fonda Lee tweeting some wisdom:

I’m going to say this right now: I will refuse to blurb anything before it’s sold. Setting expectations that a book needs big name endorsement in order to even be published is gross social climbing at best, a way to create another unfair systematic barrier to entry at worst. https://t.co/flKJtavbei

— Fonda Lee (@FondaJLee) February 16, 2020

it’s turned it into this “does the author have connections they can leverage later” type of thing. I was asked recently, and gave it, but specifically said they couldn’t use that blurb for publicity until I’d read the book again because I don’t know what happens AFTER edits.

— Katherine Locke (@Bibliogato) February 15, 2020

They’re right. It’s weaponizing platform for fiction authors and continues to consolidate power for those authors who are in some way “influential” — influence then breeds influence, and further, influence breeds careers. Now, I’m not a mooncalf, I know that’s already a thing. This isn’t new. But this definitely helps to sharpen it to a finer point, thus forcing newer authors to first and foremost either be good at social media or have penmonkey pals in high places. Which leads to, and here again I’ll let Katherine Locke tell it true:

which I *know* has made famous authors wary of interacting with emerging authors here, because are you being mined for your influence or is this genuine community building?

— Katherine Locke (@Bibliogato) February 15, 2020

Hey. Psst. Guess what?

People aren’t ladders.

It’s not that we don’t want to help. We do. And authors should always, as I’ve said in the past, offer a hand-up to those climbing behind them. We should at the least leave a light on and the ladder out. But that doesn’t mean we’re the fucking ladders. Like I said, blurbs are already fraught — introducing a new, interstitial BLURB PHASE just makes the whole thing all the more suspect.

Listen, I get it. This is a hard business. I understand that we all crave an edge, and I grok that agents and editors are the ones who may be pushing neophyte authors to seek that edge. But this ain’t it. This can’t be it — and I really, really hope this isn’t the type of thing that becomes so populous it’s normalized. This is a punishment for everyone.

It’s bad for the authors having to seek the blurbs, because they’re potentially exploiting relationships with other authors very early on, possibly even burning bridges. It’s also awkward as hell — “Hey, I wrote a book that we haven’t even sold yet, wanna read it and give me some MARKETING FRIENDLY AUTHOR PROPAGANDA?”

It’s bad for the authors having to write the blurbs, because, as noted, we have no idea what the point of the thing even is. It’s demanding our time for something that hasn’t even been vetted yet and makes us wonder how our words will be used for this book going forward.

It’s bad for the whole damn industry because, hey, it’s supposed to be about the book, and uhh, oh, I dunno, how good it is. I know once again I sound like a bleating mooncalf, but the more we can focus on the book and not the author and her connections, the better. The pure relationship is, author brings a book to an agent –> the agent loves it, reps the writer –> author sells book to editor who buys it because it’s a good book that people will want to read. The end. Huzzah. We shouldn’t want books to become more about who knows who, and who’s the better clout vampire — right?

Further, this creates a vulnerable fracture ripe for exploitation and bigotry. You think marginalized authors will have an easier time with this system, or a harder one? You’ve created a new point of failure, a new door to close. And you think there aren’t already creepy-ass male authors who haven’t viewed this as a way to extract sexual favors? That may sound extreme, but don’t kid yourself. Some creepy writer dude is out there right now feeling that opportunity in the well of his foul, monstrous gut. Even if it’s not that overt, you can be sure it would be used for grooming young women in need of that marketing push. Any introduction of doing favors is a place where those with lesser power can be exploited by those with more power.

So, to sum up —

This is gross, and we shouldn’t want it.

Kill it now, kill it with fire.

Again, I’m speaking for myself. Other authors may like this.

But for my mileage, it’s way too problematic, and should be avoided. I’ll say no if it comes to me, and I hope you’ll say no, too, and will push back against it. If you’re an author whose agent has told them this is how things are done, please know: it’s not usually how they’re done, and you should push back on them. If they continue to insist, it may be time to find a new agent, one who is actually willing to put in the work themselves toward gasp selling the book to an editor instead of letting you turn other people into ladders. And if you’re an agent who thinks this is the way forward: please don’t do this. Please? Pretty please? Pretty please with a witty blurb on top?

Now please buy my book which earned its blurbs the old-fashioned way, which is by leaving mysterious sacks of money upon the doorsteps of prominent writers.

* * *

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WANDERERS: A Novel, out now.

A decadent rock star. A deeply religious radio host. A disgraced scientist. And a teenage girl who may be the world’s last hope. An astonishing tapestry of humanity that Harlan Coben calls “a suspenseful, twisty, satisfying, surprising, thought-provoking epic.”

A sleepwalking phenomenon awakens terror and violence in America. The real danger may not be the epidemic, but the fear of it. With society collapsing—and an ultraviolent militia threatening to exterminate them—the fate of the sleepwalkers and the shepherds who guide them depends on unraveling the mystery behind the epidemic. The terrifying secret will either tear the nation apart—or bring the survivors together to remake a shattered world.

Print: Indiebound | Let’s Play Books (signed) | The Signed Page | B&N | BAM | Amazon

eBook: Amazon | Apple Books | B&N | Kobo | Google Play | BAM

Audio: Audible | Libro.FM

In Which Valumtime’s Day Brings Some News Candy For Your Heart Bucket

Hey, so if you follow me on Twitter, you might know that sometimes I tweet inane, absurd, “motivational” (air-quotes probably necessary) tweets every morning. (Similar to Lin-Manuel’s, though obviously his are far less, um, weird than mine are.)

Aaaaaanyway, long story short, there’s this:

NYT bestseller Chuck Wendig’s YOU CAN DO ANYTHING, MAGIC SKELETON, an illustrated collection of Wendig’s motivational tweets that often go viral, illustrated by Natalie Metzger, to Jessica Fuller at Rizzoli USA, in an exclusive submission, for publication in spring 2021, by Stacia Decker at Dunow, Carlson & Lerner (world).

Soooo, haha, yeah, that happened. It’s a joy to get to work with Natalie Metzger — check out her art here. I think her art will totally suit the cuckoo bananapants vibe the book will give off — equal parts adorable and weirdable.

Twitter has been bad for the world, but fairly good for me personally. I got the Star Wars job that way, there was Sam and my tweets leading to You Might Be The Killer, and now this.

It’s a strange ol’ world, innit?

ANYWAY, let’s see, what else is going on.

Wanderers news? Sure!

Let’s see. “A strong narrative drive, believable characters, and a solid underpinning in real science and current affairs make this one of the better near-future stories…”

That, from an upcoming issue of Asimov’s.

Aaaaand holy crap I was on NPR?! Talking to Neda Ulaby about Wanderers? Woo, it’s true, and you can find the article right here, along with the 4-minute broadcast.

So, that’s that.

Here’s a picture of a red-tailed hawk. BYE

You Will Eat This Applegasmic Oatmeal And You Will Give Me Gold In Tribute

It is no surprise that I like apples.

I mean, I suppose this could be new information for you, if you’ve been living in some kind of subterranean grotto. So, if you have just emerged from your lightless earth womb, let it be said again: I am a big damn fan of apples. Not the phone and tablet products — the actual fruit.

So, I sometimes make oatmeal, and when I make oatmeal, I sometimes infuse that oatmeal with as much APPLETASTICNESS as I can goddamn jolly well muster, and so here is that recipe. Let’s also put this up front that this is not what we could call a perfectly healthy oatmeal — no, it’s not as bad as just snorfling down a rum-soaked Snickers bar for breakfast, but it’s also not what anyone could call “health food.” Or “clean food,” which is I guess the latest nomenclature for healthy? Suggesting that some food is somehow dirty? God, that’s stupid.

Anyway.

MAKE THIS AND PRESS IT INTO YOUR MOUTH PIT

First, I use Bob’s Red Mill Scottish Oatmeal, which makes a porridgey oatmeal. But you can use whatever kind you like. I’m no OAT SNOB. I won’t judge you. Not for that. I’ll judge you for a lot of other reasons, probably? Like those shoes. They’re hideous. Are they made of squirrel pelts? Sure, they’re warm, but ugggh. Do you hear the screaming of the squirrels, Clarice? Whatever. Also if you have a MAGA hat on, I’m just gonna kick you into a pit.

So, admittedly, I can get a little judgey.

(Note: that photo is not Scottish oatmeal.)

The trick is, when you cook the oatmeal using its OATMEAL PREPARATION INSTRUCTIONS, you will not use all water. Rather, you will use a 50/50 split of water and apple cider. Not hard cider, though I’m sure boozy oatmeal would be its own special thing — no, I’m talking about the semi-unprocessed apple juice. You could maybe use apple juice, instead, but I’ve never tried it. Just use cider. You can also use 100% cider, but be advised, you have to watch the pot and stir it more, because that can burn the oatmeal to the bottom right quick. And nobody wants a charred cider oatmeal crust at the bottom. Though that does sound like something you’d get as part of the dessert at some fancy hipster gastrobistropub. “Scallop-foam cheesecake with kumquat microfoam, splashed with a dalliance of aquafaba creme fraiche, and settled delicately upon a charred cider oatmeal crust.” That, or maybe in a recipe an artificial intelligence wrote.

Also into the oatmeal goes a scattering of salt, a teaspoon of vanilla. As it cooks, not after.

That’s the oatmeal sorted.

There are, of course, toppings.

First, you’re going to slice an apple thin, and then cook those slicey-slices during the oatmeal cook time. Put ’em in a stainless steel or cast iron skillet with a pad of butter. Get them a little caramelized — not burned! Just get some color on them. Then put in a splash of the cider and, if the apples aren’t particularly tart, orange juice or lemon juice. Use the liquid to scrape up the apple fond.

If you don’t know what fond is, Google it.

I’m quite *giggle* fond of fond *titter*.

Ahem.

Put it on low, let it cook down. You want the apples soft, but not mush.

Get yourself a handful of pecans. Dealer’s choice as to amount.

Toast them in a toaster oven, or just your… regular oven. Or hold them underneath a tiny dragon’s mouth. I don’t care how you do it. Just toast them, you’re an adult, you can figure this shit out. Again, you don’t want them burned, for fuck’s sake. If they get burned, throw them out and start again, because now I’m judging you.

(And ugh fine, here is how you toast pecans: in my toaster oven it’s like, two minutes on low toast. In a proper oven, it’s like 5-10 minutes on 350. Under a dragon’s mouth, it’s 30 seconds or less, depending on the potency of the tiny dragon’s breath weapon.)

You can also use walnuts, but pecans are better for this, trust me.

Once the oatmeal and the apples are done —

Here is the construction order.

Oatmeal goes into a bowl. Or whatever receptacle you eat out of. One of your ugly shoes, a jockstrap, the skull of an enemy, whatever.

Put a pad of butter atop it. Right there in the center.

Then sprinkle cacao nibs over it, if you have them. They’re good crunch, and they add a little bit of that bitter cocoa back-of-the-mouth taste to the whole shazam.

Then, construct a pyre, a cairn, an obelisk of the cooked apples. Arrange them in the middle as if you were trying to appease some kind of heretical APPLE GOD. Because you are. Do not fail the ELDER PIPPIN, for if you do, the APPLE DEITY will turn your teeth to apple seeds.

Then, atop that go the toasted pecans. A scattering. A smattering. A gleeful toss, as if you’re a wealthy person casting dice in a game of craps where the bet is a million dollars, but who cares because you have a billion more dollars left if you lose.

Then, atop that goes a swirl of foesblood, as in, the blood of a foe.

No, ha ha, wait, sorry, that’s for WIZARD’S PORRIDGE. Different recipe.

In this, a splash of milk or heavy cream around the edges.

Then you stop talking and start eating.

I will await a rain of baubles and treasure now. RAIN GLORY UPON ME IN SERVICE TO THE APPLE GOD. *spreads arms wide, spins around drunkenly, chanting IA IA APPLE TREEIA*

Hey, Look: Wanderers On Locus Reading List And Poll! Maybe Vote?

I’m honestly full of light and love and bees about how much people seem to be enjoying WANDERERS — I don’t know that I’ve ever gotten as many emails and tweets and such about any other book, the Aftermath series included. It’s heartening and wonderful and so it’s especially cool to make the Locus Reading List in the category of science-fiction. Which also means it has landed as part of the Locus 2020 poll awards ballot — you can vote for up to five in each category, dontcha know.

You do not need to be a subscriber, but subscribers do have their votes count twice.

You should also vote for Tricia Narwani in the editor section. Tricia edited Wanderers and is currently editing The Book of Accidents, and she’s really an astonishing editor whose caliber is, for me, unparalleled. Please consider voting for her.

Also, I might recommend a couple of write-ins —

For fantasy, Steel Crow Saga. Paul Krueger. So good. Should be on there. Single-serving epic fantasy, some of the finest disaster characters ever.

For SF, The Warehouse, by Rob W. Hart. Tense, taut near-future thriller. Definitely not a dart in the eye of Amazon and capitalism ahem ahem ahem cough cough.

Yay.

Thank you.

Also I ate Mac and Cheese ice cream and apparently that’s news.

Enjoy!

Surprise Appearance: Hey Come Hang Out With Maureen Johnson And Me

HEY GUESS WHAT. Maureen Johnson has a new book out — The Hand On The Wall! — and she’s going to be at Barnes & Noble in Oxford Valley, PA this Sunday, at 2pm. Who will also be there? Why, it’ll be me! We’ll talk about crime and mystery and books and Twitter and she also says we’re going to wrestle but ha ha that can’t be true oh no. There may be spiders? I don’t know. It’s impromptu! I’ll maybe see you there!

In Which I Rank Grocery Store Apples, Part Two

It is I, known applefluencer, Churk Wigdog, back again to bring you another round of vital rankings of grocery store apples.

(You can find Part One, from last year, here.)

It is further known that my favorite apples are of course heirloom apples. They are weird. They are curious. They are oddities. And they are routinely some of the most interesting apples I have eaten. I recognize however that I’m fortunate to have access to such interesting apples — I live at the nexus of many wonderful orchards, chief among them being North Star Orchard in Chester County, PA. Wanna see their whole weird list of available apples? Go for it. You’re gonna think half of those are made up, or that they’re strange hobbit sex moves. “Ah, give ’em the old Coe’s Golden Drop, eh? I prefer the Scarlet Crofton, but Pippin over there really likes the Canadian Strawberry.”

*eyebrow waggle*

But, heirlooms are not always readily available.

Not for me.

Not for you.

So!

From time to time I sample the apple wares of local grocery stores. Now, even here I admit privilege — I live in the opposite of a food desert, with probably a dozen grocery stores within a 20 minute drive, and because of our proximity to farmland, even the grocery stores get a good variety of apples.

I also thought, well, it’s the year of the shiny new apple, The Cosmic Crisp, and I was fortunate enough to receive some in the mail courtesy of… well, the Cosmic Crisp people. (See? See? I’m a real-life applefluencer.) Though I promise of course my review and ranking here are not affected by this very nice gift.

Two caveats, before I begin:

Apples can vary apple to apple, store to store.

And my experience with an apple is not going to be your experience with an apple, because our tastes are subjective. So please know that if we disagree here, it’s not because I’m right, it’s because you’re wrong, and because I’m right. I’m an applefluencer and I’ve trained for this for years, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO PREPARE FOR THE APPLEOCALYPSE, HUH? *cuts to training montage of me punching apples into sauce, and then eating them off my fists* Ahem.

Apples, ranked bottom to top, starting now.

14. Cortland

I’m going to offer a big caveat here — the bottom five apples on this list were all from one store: Wegman’s. And except for the Ginger Gold, they were all watery, bland messes. Which I really can’t believe that they all had similar problematic flavor flaws, unless Wegman’s is just sourcing shitty apples. The Cortland, a classic New York apple, may just be because it’s not a keeper. It’s good off the tree, reportedly, and that’s it — so, you find one in a grocery store, it may already be past its prime, especially if it’s fucking January. Either way, this one sucked the most. Too tart, and had the texture of an old toe. It’s an apple you sit there chewing and thinking, “What mistakes have I made in my life to lead me to this point? What god did I offend? Yet here I stand. Here, I chew.” Chew, chew, chew. A cow with cud. Chew, chew, chew.

13. Macoun

I’ve always heard good things about the Macoun — another New York apple, it’s also not a keeper apple. Maybe a few weeks off the tree, and then it’s game over. If they drop Oct/Nov, then me buying one in January is not ideal. Still. Fine. Whatever — this was watery. Wasn’t sweet or tart — just bland. Had a strong floral component, which was nice: rose and elderflower. Had the trademark butt-white flesh of, say, a McIntosh, but I don’t think the latter is a parent of the former? They must be rivals. Or surly exes. Or grumpy former roommates. Anyway. I’d love to try a Macoun off the tree this coming season, but fuck these ones I got from Wegman’s, bleah.

12. Empire

Big name, fairly small apple. Just slightly more aspirational than the Macoun: almost precisely the same flavor, just sweeter, with a hint more complexity. Also, yup, another New York apple. Also, yup, another apple that doesn’t keep well. Why the fuck is it in a grocery store then? Do you people hate apples? You do, don’t you. This is the heart of some kind of anti-apple conspiracy and I have found it. Whatever. Disappointing apples should be a crime. A CRIME.

11. Pazazz

And so we enter into the “Attack of the Honeycrisp Clones” portion of the list. You will frequently see a new apple enter the world and when that apple reaches shelves a bevy of articles like this one: “[Apple Name]: The New Honeycrisp!!??” The Honeycrisp is popular. Too popular. It’s a fine apple, don’t get me wrong, it’s just — it’s not a really interesting apple. It’s sweet and juicy, cool, fine, whatever, not a lot of complexity, and is subject to bruising. So, everyone’s always wanting THE NEXT HONEYCRISP. The Pazazz I ate wasn’t even fit to sniff a Honeycrisp’s underwear. Okay, that’s maybe a little dramatic — and it’s not that this apple was terrible. It sprayed juice when I cut into it. And there was a pleasant tartness you don’t find in a Honeycrisp — but it was also, like the other Wegman apples, watery and a little bland. Good crunch, tho.

10. Sugar Bee

Is it Sugarbee? Or Sugar Bee. I dunno. Yet another Honeycrisp market grab — this one, by literally crossing a Honeycrisp with, I dunno, a bag of cane sugar. It, like the Kiku (below), is just a crisp bite and then sugar sugar sugar. Unlike the Kiku, it has at least flavor for days — it’s like chewing bubblegum, this apple. Not a whiff of tartness of complexity — somehow, they bred what little was in the Honeycrisp right the hell out. What sets this as worse than the Kiku is that though the flavor remains, so does a woody texture, and after that, a lingering taste of chlorinated funk. Which is, as you suspected, nasty business. I do not like this apple, Sam I Am.

9. Ginger Gold

I don’t know that this is a great apple, but I admire it. It’s… odd. It’s not gingery, and yet, it tastes like a piece of apple that would go well in a sushi roll. A bit yuzu? It’s vaguely savory. Was crisp and juicy. Feels like this would be banging in a salad. Not an apple I want to just bite into, though.

8. Kiku

Another aim at Honeycrisp, I think — “Kiku: The Sweetest Apple!” Except sweet isn’t the same as flavor — it’s just sugar. And that’s mostly what you get here. But it doesn’t even really earn its own marketing plaudits, as though it was sweet, it was more syrupy, and the flavor didn’t last. It faded pretty quick, ghosting your tongue in your mouth like a spurned Tinder hookup. It’s fine? It’s fine.

7. Evercrisp

Jesus Christ with the Honeycrisp copypasta. I ate this alongside a Honeycrisp and… it didn’t taste much different. This is reportedly a Honeycrisp x Fuji cross, which, okay fine, but there’s not a significant difference here that earns any reason to buy this. There’s maybe, maybe a hint more tartness than you’d expect in a Honeycrisp, but it’s down to microns of tartness, which is how tartness is measured. Microns. I know this because I am an applefluencer. I had to take a test. Shut up.

6. McIntosh

I’ve always kinda lumped the McIntosh in the “old-timey who-gives-a-shit” apple, something a Grampaw would eat and be surly about, but I shouldn’t have. I don’t know that this is a thrill-a-minute kind of apple, but it’s actually pretty solid. Softer flesh than I was expecting, the McIntosh yielded a lemonbright kick to the teeth, a bit of rose in the nose, and a late dose of sweetness. I can see why a lot of apples are bred from the McIntosh. A classic for a reason.

5. Golden Delicious

Here’s another apple I summarily dismissed in part because the Red Delicious has so poisoned the apple discourse with its Judas Deception of that word, DELICIOUS. Liar! Liar apple! Golden Delicious is… is a pretty tasty apple. Not as tart as I’d like, but pleasantly weird. Has depth. The one I ate had a banana-pineapple tang to it, with a honey-on-the-tongue follow-up with a final, almost-grassy finish. It tastes… golden? Does that make sense? It doesn’t, I know, but there it is.

4. Stayman Winesap

Winey (or “vinous”) and rich, the juicy, crisp, and coarse-grained Stayman Winesap is a pretty dang beautiful apple. Got that Berry Sangria color to it, and then you bite into it and catch a whiff of spice — like the distant promise of cinnamon and honeysuckle. You can see it doing well in cider, or sauce, or even pie. But works too right out of hand. Can’t go wrong with it if you can find one.

3. Cosmic Crisp

I wanted to hate this apple. Because it’s another “Crisp” apple — so desperate to be like the Popular Kid, Honeycrisp, even though the Popular Kid is never the most interesting kid. And it had a big marketing push and, while I’m certainly not mad at people getting excited to eat fruit, I’m also naturally dubious of anytime anything seems overly pushed-to-market. It felt shoved-in-my-face. Everyone asking, DID YOU TRY THE COSMIC CRISP, DID YOU, DIDJA, IT’S SUPPOSED TO CURE ACNE, IT SAVED MY DOG FROM CANCER, IT’S A SPACE APPLE THAT THEY BRED ON THE MOOOOON. Well. I tried it. They sent me a box. And godfuckingdamnit, it’s a really good apple. I daresay it is my favorite standard grocery store apple. Yes, it’s got that sweet Honeycrisp thing, but it’s also balanced by equal tartness — and bonus, it’s crisp like a carrot slice. Satisfying to eat. I like it as much as one of my other faves, the Pink Lady. I can see this becoming a fast favorite for folks.

2. Arkansas Black

Black like the Devil’s own buboes! Not really. It’s just a really really dark red — blood-and-bruise-dark. Now, this isn’t a standard grocery store apple, but I did find it at my local store for just one week. And I was geeked to find it because it’s not easy to find around here. I can tell you now, it’s a great apple. Strongly tart, with a honeyed-vanilla kick to the sweetness. A bit funky, in the best way. It’s a beautiful apple to behold, and hard as a rock. You could break somebody’s jaw with one of these. Don’t fuck with me. I might be armed with a sack of these chonky motherfuckers. I’ll split your kneecap in half like a communion wafer, motherfucker. Kachow.

1. GoldRush

Honestly, I didn’t find this at a grocery store, but it’s not an heirloom. But it is the very best apple, and you will not disagree. I mean, don’t eat it right off the tree — haha, it sucks right off the tree. But a couple weeks, even months, in storage, and it becomes weird and sweet and tart, compelling in a way where you feel like a starving man on a desert island eating a mango after weeks without food or water. It’s clearly got that Golden Delicious parentage, but then kicks in with a pleasing lemon tartness. It’s dense and firm. Holds up real well to cooking — the apple sauce and pies I make with it are legendary. (Er, legendary in my house, anyway. A small legend.) I buy them by the sack. Then store them forever. I just used the last ones yesterday, after getting them in October. Cold storage does them wonders — they might start to look a little weird, like your fingertips after they’ve been in bathwater for too long, but the flesh and flavor remains. Hie thee hence to a GoldRush apple.

Macro Monday Brings A Little Bit Of Wanderers News

HEY GUESS WHAT? (This is where you say, oh my god are we getting a pony and I’m like, what, no, this is a blog, who said anything about a pony, and now I’m worried we’ve begun this exchange on not just the wrong foot, but a broken foot, because suddenly we’re collectively disappointed about the distinct lack of ponies all up in here.)

AHEM

So!

Wanderers is on the preliminary ballot for the Stoker Awards!

Preliminary ballot is not the final ballot, of course, but honestly, it’s an honor anytime there is any signal at all that this book is connecting with readers. Thanks, readers!

I also note here, rather selfishly, that I understand Hugo and Nebula nominations close soon, and so ahem ahem ahem, Wanderers is a book, and maybe it’s a good book, and maybe you think it’s worthy of one of those? I dunno. I’m not you. But a bearded boy can hope.

I have other news, quite a lot of it, but I am not at all free to share any of it yet, which is I have come to believe the author’s curse. We are receptacles fit to burst with news we cannot share.

In the meantime, I offer you photos. These three are test shots I took with a new lens — a 35mm macro lens with built-in ringlite. It’s a neat lens, though you basically gotta get right the hell up on your subject, so no bug shots with this one, I think.

Please to enjoy.