Nick Mamatas's Blog, page 48
August 28, 2013
August 26, 2013
Monday Monday!
Just one note today, for my old crew in Boston.
Tonight!
Toh EnJoe!
At the Burlington, MA Barnes and Noble, 7PM.
Reading from the weirdest fiction title of the year...
Self-Reference ENGINE.
Go.
Tonight!
Toh EnJoe!
At the Burlington, MA Barnes and Noble, 7PM.
Reading from the weirdest fiction title of the year...
Self-Reference ENGINE.
Go.
August 24, 2013
My Bloody Valentine
My Blood Valentine was once one of my favorite bands. It's not that MBV got worse over the years; they simply did nothing over the years. Virtually nothing, anyway. I was one of the people who spent $16 to download the album, when it was without fanfare or hype released on their website in the winter. m b v was a great record, but indeed would have been so much greater in 1996. Sounds don't age like fine cheese in a vault, which is basically where the record was stored for sixteen years. Though a lo-fi version is available for free on YouTube, I paid my money anyway. To say "Welcome back!" and because I admired the audacity of casually releasing an album after so many years.
Of course, the band still felt stuck in the past. Here's how their local gig was being promoted, for example:
Twenty-year-old publicity stills. They look a bit more like this now:
But they were coming to town, and we got tickets. And I was cheered to get this warning email from the venue and promoter:
We got the earplugs, just in case. And tonight, we went. The opening act were mediocre (Lumerians) and actually violently, oppressively, awful (Beachwood Sparks—sort of emo country for yoga moms or something). And then out came My Bloody Valentine. And they were insane. If this wasn't the best show I've ever seen, it's surely the show with the biggest gap between opening act and headliner I've ever seen. The earplugs were necessary, but for some songs I just had to pull them out to get the whole effect. The whole effect being that of the entire planet screaming at you in one ear, and a friend whispering in the other. It definitely hit 120 dBs. I don't know what to tell you except to embed your computer speakers into your sinuses somehow, and then blast this:
Then there was the last song, which was actually eight or nine minutes of the band grinding away at the same chord. It was a amazing and made me think, "Wow, they really hate us! This is a punishment!" and then suddenly they broke into the last thirty seconds of a song, "You Made Me Realise."
We got off lucky. There have been gigs with thirty-minute bouts of the same, which some fans call the "holocaust section":
And then just as suddenly as they walked back into the public sphere, they were off-stage. No encores. Lights up. They were basically a perfect band. Huge tsunamis of sonic power—slightly mitigated by age and the desire to perform well—while standing almost perfectly still throughout most of the songs, with a compelling projection show in the back. The winter-forest-in-negative (as seen in the first video during the riffs) has to be experienced first-hand.
Amazing show. Amazing. I'm not even a huge fan of live music, though I've been to my share of shows over the years. NOW I get why people bother leaving the house for a band.
Of course, the band still felt stuck in the past. Here's how their local gig was being promoted, for example:
Twenty-year-old publicity stills. They look a bit more like this now:
But they were coming to town, and we got tickets. And I was cheered to get this warning email from the venue and promoter:
We got the earplugs, just in case. And tonight, we went. The opening act were mediocre (Lumerians) and actually violently, oppressively, awful (Beachwood Sparks—sort of emo country for yoga moms or something). And then out came My Bloody Valentine. And they were insane. If this wasn't the best show I've ever seen, it's surely the show with the biggest gap between opening act and headliner I've ever seen. The earplugs were necessary, but for some songs I just had to pull them out to get the whole effect. The whole effect being that of the entire planet screaming at you in one ear, and a friend whispering in the other. It definitely hit 120 dBs. I don't know what to tell you except to embed your computer speakers into your sinuses somehow, and then blast this:
Then there was the last song, which was actually eight or nine minutes of the band grinding away at the same chord. It was a amazing and made me think, "Wow, they really hate us! This is a punishment!" and then suddenly they broke into the last thirty seconds of a song, "You Made Me Realise."
We got off lucky. There have been gigs with thirty-minute bouts of the same, which some fans call the "holocaust section":
And then just as suddenly as they walked back into the public sphere, they were off-stage. No encores. Lights up. They were basically a perfect band. Huge tsunamis of sonic power—slightly mitigated by age and the desire to perform well—while standing almost perfectly still throughout most of the songs, with a compelling projection show in the back. The winter-forest-in-negative (as seen in the first video during the riffs) has to be experienced first-hand.
Amazing show. Amazing. I'm not even a huge fan of live music, though I've been to my share of shows over the years. NOW I get why people bother leaving the house for a band.
August 23, 2013
A Worldcon Guide: the Care and Feeding of Me
As you know, science fiction conventions can be a great place to meet people, and interact with fans and online acquaintances. In recent years, before large cons, folks have taken to blogging about their personal preferences for friendly interactions. Well, it seems like a good idea—so here are mine.
I don't remember that thing you think I said, did, tweeted, or pointed to three years ago. So don't bother bringing it up. In fact don't even fucking talk to me.
Actually, don't look at me. AVERT YOUR EYES when you see me coming down the hall.
Don't talk about the elevator in the goddamn elevator, as I've said a million times already. How come nobody remembers that one!
I don't care about your stupid book.
You smell. Yeah, it's not about how I like to be treated per se, but it's true. You smell.
Remember when I said don't talk to me. Don't try to talk to me by offering me drink or holding up a sign or doing sign language.
Yes I like cookies and snacks but please don't offer me any because I don't want to think about your filthy disgusting hands and rank and wormy fingers. I certainly don't want to sit across from you as you eat a tasteless hotel salad or an inexplicably expensive hamburger. Your horrid mouth makes me want to weld your lips shut forever.
I have a broken toe and am wearing a hard boot. If you're curious as to how I broke it, well it was when I shoved my foot up the ass of the last person who looked at me, came up to me, and said, "Hey, remember when you made that post about marzipan and Full Communism? Haha, that was funny! How is your dog?"
Don't you dare give me a goddamn business card or bookmark.
I pronounce the word "corset" like so: cor-say. I do this to annoy you.
What do I think of Texas? I hate Texas. How was my flight—I'm guessing it'll be shitty.
I can't hear a word you're saying, so don't just repeat yourself with the same words, tone, and volume. What you should do instead is open your mouth wide, take the fire extinguisher from the wall, point the nozzle at your mouth, and squeeze the trigger.
I think Ben Affleck will make about as good a Batman as anybody else. Okay?
DO NOT ATTEMPT TO EXPLAIN WHY YOUR T-SHIRT IS FUNNY.
Don't filk at me.
Please don't attempt to show me a racist movie because you think I need a lesson on what racist movies look like.
Now let's all have a fun Worldcon, fans!
I don't remember that thing you think I said, did, tweeted, or pointed to three years ago. So don't bother bringing it up. In fact don't even fucking talk to me.
Actually, don't look at me. AVERT YOUR EYES when you see me coming down the hall.
Don't talk about the elevator in the goddamn elevator, as I've said a million times already. How come nobody remembers that one!
I don't care about your stupid book.
You smell. Yeah, it's not about how I like to be treated per se, but it's true. You smell.
Remember when I said don't talk to me. Don't try to talk to me by offering me drink or holding up a sign or doing sign language.
Yes I like cookies and snacks but please don't offer me any because I don't want to think about your filthy disgusting hands and rank and wormy fingers. I certainly don't want to sit across from you as you eat a tasteless hotel salad or an inexplicably expensive hamburger. Your horrid mouth makes me want to weld your lips shut forever.
I have a broken toe and am wearing a hard boot. If you're curious as to how I broke it, well it was when I shoved my foot up the ass of the last person who looked at me, came up to me, and said, "Hey, remember when you made that post about marzipan and Full Communism? Haha, that was funny! How is your dog?"
Don't you dare give me a goddamn business card or bookmark.
I pronounce the word "corset" like so: cor-say. I do this to annoy you.
What do I think of Texas? I hate Texas. How was my flight—I'm guessing it'll be shitty.
I can't hear a word you're saying, so don't just repeat yourself with the same words, tone, and volume. What you should do instead is open your mouth wide, take the fire extinguisher from the wall, point the nozzle at your mouth, and squeeze the trigger.
I think Ben Affleck will make about as good a Batman as anybody else. Okay?
DO NOT ATTEMPT TO EXPLAIN WHY YOUR T-SHIRT IS FUNNY.
Don't filk at me.
Please don't attempt to show me a racist movie because you think I need a lesson on what racist movies look like.
Now let's all have a fun Worldcon, fans!
August 21, 2013
Newsflash: I am a genius!
In other news, here's the first early review of Love Is the Law, out next month:
I realize that was a somewhat disingenuous tweet. While it is possible I may read a better book this year, the likelihood of such an event is quite unlikely. I’m tempted to say there won’t be a better book written this decade, but then, Nick’s still young, in his writing prime, if you will, so he just might scale these heights (or depths depending on your point of view) once more.
I realize that was a somewhat disingenuous tweet. While it is possible I may read a better book this year, the likelihood of such an event is quite unlikely. I’m tempted to say there won’t be a better book written this decade, but then, Nick’s still young, in his writing prime, if you will, so he just might scale these heights (or depths depending on your point of view) once more.
Worldcon scheduling
The Worldcon panel program and event schedule is out! My Japanese colleagues have several interesting panels, which I'd recommend members attend:
The Cthulhu Internationale
Friday 14:00 – 15:00
H. P. Lovecraft’s influence on horror and science fiction is not only immense, it is international. Come hear from Lovecraftians from the Americas, Europe, and Asia talk about Lovecraft’s work inspired them, and how their own work has adapted Lovecraftian themes for their particular national audiences.
Toh EnJoe (M), David Nickle, Seia Tanabe, Masao Higashi, Cathy Clamp
Beyond Godzilla vs. King Kong: Monsters of Japan and the Americas
Saturday 18:00 – 19:00
Both East and West love monsters. The ghostly Japanese creatures known as yokai are many and varied, and have a broad Western analogue in cryptids such as the sasquatch and chupacabra. The giant city-smashing kaiju, well the West has a few of those as well. But what are the differences, and what are the similarities, between these monsters? Why do adults still love monsters, and what do monsters mean when they appear in fiction, film, or folklore? Come and find out!
Seia Tanabe (M), Masao Higashi, Toh EnJoe
Disaster and the Literature of the Supernatural
Sunday 11:00 – 12:00
The inexpressible damage done to Japan by the catastrophic earthquake and tsunami of 2011 is but the latest in a long line of disasters.The relationship between natural calamities and literature of the supernatural has never been so profound…We will use both visuals and commentary to describe the current state of the damage done by disasters, and will explore the relationships between disasters, traditional ghost stories and the literature of fantasy, as well as Japan’s unique folk cultural traditions. We will present graphic images of unusual Japanese spirits, demons, and monsters.
Masao Higashi (M), Toh EnJoe, Seia Tanabe
No panels for me, though. My name was on these panels—as I know these folks and the topics, the panels would go more smoothly with me and my native English language skills moderating—but they were only accepted after my name was removed. Apparently, some folks high up in SMOFdom objected to my retirement FAQ:
The Readercon sexual harassment debacle was one, as was overhearing disgusting pig commentary about the event at Worldcon later that same year. Naturally, last week's SFWA sexism controversy is proof to me that I should just stay away. In addition to sexist culture and patriarchy and all the politicized rhetoric used to explain such phenomena, it all rather hints to me that SF is basically full of people in a state of emotional arrest. You know, social simpletons. I don't want to write for these people.
(Way to prove me wrong!)
Of course, though I don't write SF anymore, I am still a full-time editor, a two-time Hugo nominee, the editor of a current Hugo nominee, and one of only two people to collaborate with Worldcon's guest of honor on an anthology (which itself was nominated for the World Fantasy and Shirley Jackson Awards, and which won the Bram Stoker award), but, you know...I just took too hard a line against copping feels at con parties. And I called some people social simpletons! An unprecedented insult!
There is plenty of good programming at the con though...and there still seems to be time for changes. For example, according to the pocket program, there was to be a screening of Song of the South:
The awkward text seems to come right from Wikipedia as well.
Though looking at the searchable online program, the screening does not appear. I know people had sent in complaints last night, so I hope and would be pleased if that particular program item were scratched. Not being sarcastic—it's a good thing to make changes like that. Now we know that Song of the South is just as bad as...me!
ETA: I should never use a web browser before breakfast. The film is still listed. I hope it is removed, or changed to give the screening more context.
ETA 2: Also worth noting: the film was shown at Reno's Worldcon a couple of years ago and the world didn't end or anything. The movie there was introduced by a collector, so perhaps there was some interesting context. It was also shown at 10am, and who the hell is up at 10am!
ETA 3:, over at Making Light fhe following is being reported:
Just F y'all's I, the LSC3 concomm has, as of a few hours ago, noticed and (mostly) been horrified. Programming clarified (on the staff list) that this is scheduled to be accompanied by a historical-context discussion, and the folks whose problem this is (chairs and programming) are considering whether to pull it entirely, clarify the listing on the website, increase the surrounding commentary, etc.
Personally, with some interesting commentary, I'd be fine with the screening.
The Cthulhu Internationale
Friday 14:00 – 15:00
H. P. Lovecraft’s influence on horror and science fiction is not only immense, it is international. Come hear from Lovecraftians from the Americas, Europe, and Asia talk about Lovecraft’s work inspired them, and how their own work has adapted Lovecraftian themes for their particular national audiences.
Toh EnJoe (M), David Nickle, Seia Tanabe, Masao Higashi, Cathy Clamp
Beyond Godzilla vs. King Kong: Monsters of Japan and the Americas
Saturday 18:00 – 19:00
Both East and West love monsters. The ghostly Japanese creatures known as yokai are many and varied, and have a broad Western analogue in cryptids such as the sasquatch and chupacabra. The giant city-smashing kaiju, well the West has a few of those as well. But what are the differences, and what are the similarities, between these monsters? Why do adults still love monsters, and what do monsters mean when they appear in fiction, film, or folklore? Come and find out!
Seia Tanabe (M), Masao Higashi, Toh EnJoe
Disaster and the Literature of the Supernatural
Sunday 11:00 – 12:00
The inexpressible damage done to Japan by the catastrophic earthquake and tsunami of 2011 is but the latest in a long line of disasters.The relationship between natural calamities and literature of the supernatural has never been so profound…We will use both visuals and commentary to describe the current state of the damage done by disasters, and will explore the relationships between disasters, traditional ghost stories and the literature of fantasy, as well as Japan’s unique folk cultural traditions. We will present graphic images of unusual Japanese spirits, demons, and monsters.
Masao Higashi (M), Toh EnJoe, Seia Tanabe
No panels for me, though. My name was on these panels—as I know these folks and the topics, the panels would go more smoothly with me and my native English language skills moderating—but they were only accepted after my name was removed. Apparently, some folks high up in SMOFdom objected to my retirement FAQ:
The Readercon sexual harassment debacle was one, as was overhearing disgusting pig commentary about the event at Worldcon later that same year. Naturally, last week's SFWA sexism controversy is proof to me that I should just stay away. In addition to sexist culture and patriarchy and all the politicized rhetoric used to explain such phenomena, it all rather hints to me that SF is basically full of people in a state of emotional arrest. You know, social simpletons. I don't want to write for these people.
(Way to prove me wrong!)
Of course, though I don't write SF anymore, I am still a full-time editor, a two-time Hugo nominee, the editor of a current Hugo nominee, and one of only two people to collaborate with Worldcon's guest of honor on an anthology (which itself was nominated for the World Fantasy and Shirley Jackson Awards, and which won the Bram Stoker award), but, you know...I just took too hard a line against copping feels at con parties. And I called some people social simpletons! An unprecedented insult!
There is plenty of good programming at the con though...and there still seems to be time for changes. For example, according to the pocket program, there was to be a screening of Song of the South:
The awkward text seems to come right from Wikipedia as well.
Though looking at the searchable online program, the screening does not appear. I know people had sent in complaints last night, so I hope and would be pleased if that particular program item were scratched. Not being sarcastic—it's a good thing to make changes like that. Now we know that Song of the South is just as bad as...me!
ETA: I should never use a web browser before breakfast. The film is still listed. I hope it is removed, or changed to give the screening more context.
ETA 2: Also worth noting: the film was shown at Reno's Worldcon a couple of years ago and the world didn't end or anything. The movie there was introduced by a collector, so perhaps there was some interesting context. It was also shown at 10am, and who the hell is up at 10am!
ETA 3:, over at Making Light fhe following is being reported:
Just F y'all's I, the LSC3 concomm has, as of a few hours ago, noticed and (mostly) been horrified. Programming clarified (on the staff list) that this is scheduled to be accompanied by a historical-context discussion, and the folks whose problem this is (chairs and programming) are considering whether to pull it entirely, clarify the listing on the website, increase the surrounding commentary, etc.
Personally, with some interesting commentary, I'd be fine with the screening.
August 20, 2013
Tuesday quick notes
It's H. P. Lovecraft's birthday. Clearly you should celebrate by buying The Damned Highway, by me and Brian Keene, and not Lovecraft's own stuff, which will do him no good and which you can read, online, for free, legally, anyway. And then there's Move Under Ground, on Kindle, cheap!
Elmore Leonard died. He was approximately 147 years old, but he was busy until the end, which was good. He was a very quotable guy, but I always liked this one: "Alcohol never prevented me from writing. But when I quit, on January 24, 1977, at 9:30AM, my fiction got better."
My old Boston-area cronies might be interested to know that Toh EnJoe, author of Self-Reference ENGINE, will be at the Barnes & Noble in Burlington next week, August 26th, at 7PM. It'll be like a mini-Readercon! Please go check him out!
Elmore Leonard died. He was approximately 147 years old, but he was busy until the end, which was good. He was a very quotable guy, but I always liked this one: "Alcohol never prevented me from writing. But when I quit, on January 24, 1977, at 9:30AM, my fiction got better."
My old Boston-area cronies might be interested to know that Toh EnJoe, author of Self-Reference ENGINE, will be at the Barnes & Noble in Burlington next week, August 26th, at 7PM. It'll be like a mini-Readercon! Please go check him out!
August 16, 2013
Europa Report
Europa Report is a thoughtful, artful, science fiction film that approaches the quality of a well-rendered science fiction story. That is, it almost completely makes sense, characters are drawn out in a few deft strokes, and it has a compelling pro-science pro-exploration message. The film is also one of the best examples of a found footage movie ever, if only because it avoids Imma-gonna-keep-filming-while-the-world-turns-to-shit syndrome in a couple of good and natural ways.
There are limits to the literary realism of the film; as hard SF goes it's about as hard as pudding skin, but that just makes it the hardest SF film ever made. They kind of explain the parts of the ship that have gravity. (But, on the other hand, they launch the ship from Earth rather than, say, a space station, and full of all the food and shit.) The scientists sound almost like scientists and not like breathless supermodels. (But they're all super-attractive. No space-orgies though!) As the title suggests, the movie is about a mission to Europa, to crack under the ice and see if there is any life. This is a well-worn theme in prose SF. My dayjob novel The Ouroboros Wave (which if you love hard SF you should read) has a story/chapter on the topic, and a recent issue of Analog has a Europa story too, one which contains the classic line: "It was, she had to remind herself for the thousandth time, an alien and not a giant penis."* I'm sure some obsessive nerd will be along to mention a million other recent examples in the comments. But ANYWAY, the MOVIE.
Well, the movie is a movie, so it has to have people in it. There's no particular reason to fill a can with meat and send it into deep space, but the Europa Project is headed by a private firm, so perhaps PR concerns took over. We know from the beginning that nobody makes it back to Earth, and that something terrible happened. Data has been declassified, and edited artfully, and now we get to see it, documentary style.
The plus side is that the film is very beautiful. The weird angles of the spaceship's internal and external camera are used to wonderful effect. The lighting is nearly a character on its own, and there are many subtle things—such as the disintegration of a character's left eye—that are shown but not remarked upon because someone somewhere told the director that not everyone in the world is an idiot. Europa Report is 2001-level gorgeous.
The minus side is that a lot of the problems the characters face in the second half of the film could have been easily resolved if they had one of these:
Tape a dust shovel to one of the Roombas and you're golden. Really. Also, the crew doesn't seem to have much in the ways of SOPs or contingency plans, which I found odd. They stand around arguing whether or not someone should suit up and walk 100 yards across the surface after some equipment stops working. But really, nobody was going to watch a two-hour movie about an uncrewed drone coming across a single-cell organism, so Actors! Movie! Look at the Camera and Cry and Laugh!
Anyway, the crew is in space and things go wrong. There are sacrifices, and cold equations. The guy who is communicating frequently with his family and taping the trip to space for his little boy is, OF COURSE, the first to go. I mean that's hardly a so-called "spoiler" at this point in history. It's like seeing a black man in a group of white people who in a dangerous situation. The survivors send some rovers down to Europa like normal people and admire all the data the rovers are able to collect land on the surface but miss the LZ in the Conomara Chaos. Also, the ice is creaking. Then some stuff happens and the remaining crew tries to take off and that doesn't work...then the crew remaining after that tries to fix the ship and that doesn't work...then the remaining crew after that does something wonderful, in the name of discovery. What would have been a moment of horror in any other film becomes in this one a realization of the sublime, and indeed, the Mievillean tentacular.
Go see this movie.
*"Full Fathom Five" by Joe Pitkin in September 2013 Analog. It's not as exciting as the quote may suggest.
There are limits to the literary realism of the film; as hard SF goes it's about as hard as pudding skin, but that just makes it the hardest SF film ever made. They kind of explain the parts of the ship that have gravity. (But, on the other hand, they launch the ship from Earth rather than, say, a space station, and full of all the food and shit.) The scientists sound almost like scientists and not like breathless supermodels. (But they're all super-attractive. No space-orgies though!) As the title suggests, the movie is about a mission to Europa, to crack under the ice and see if there is any life. This is a well-worn theme in prose SF. My dayjob novel The Ouroboros Wave (which if you love hard SF you should read) has a story/chapter on the topic, and a recent issue of Analog has a Europa story too, one which contains the classic line: "It was, she had to remind herself for the thousandth time, an alien and not a giant penis."* I'm sure some obsessive nerd will be along to mention a million other recent examples in the comments. But ANYWAY, the MOVIE.
Well, the movie is a movie, so it has to have people in it. There's no particular reason to fill a can with meat and send it into deep space, but the Europa Project is headed by a private firm, so perhaps PR concerns took over. We know from the beginning that nobody makes it back to Earth, and that something terrible happened. Data has been declassified, and edited artfully, and now we get to see it, documentary style.
The plus side is that the film is very beautiful. The weird angles of the spaceship's internal and external camera are used to wonderful effect. The lighting is nearly a character on its own, and there are many subtle things—such as the disintegration of a character's left eye—that are shown but not remarked upon because someone somewhere told the director that not everyone in the world is an idiot. Europa Report is 2001-level gorgeous.
The minus side is that a lot of the problems the characters face in the second half of the film could have been easily resolved if they had one of these:
Tape a dust shovel to one of the Roombas and you're golden. Really. Also, the crew doesn't seem to have much in the ways of SOPs or contingency plans, which I found odd. They stand around arguing whether or not someone should suit up and walk 100 yards across the surface after some equipment stops working. But really, nobody was going to watch a two-hour movie about an uncrewed drone coming across a single-cell organism, so Actors! Movie! Look at the Camera and Cry and Laugh!
Anyway, the crew is in space and things go wrong. There are sacrifices, and cold equations. The guy who is communicating frequently with his family and taping the trip to space for his little boy is, OF COURSE, the first to go. I mean that's hardly a so-called "spoiler" at this point in history. It's like seeing a black man in a group of white people who in a dangerous situation. The survivors send some rovers down to Europa like normal people and admire all the data the rovers are able to collect land on the surface but miss the LZ in the Conomara Chaos. Also, the ice is creaking. Then some stuff happens and the remaining crew tries to take off and that doesn't work...then the crew remaining after that tries to fix the ship and that doesn't work...then the remaining crew after that does something wonderful, in the name of discovery. What would have been a moment of horror in any other film becomes in this one a realization of the sublime, and indeed, the Mievillean tentacular.
Go see this movie.
*"Full Fathom Five" by Joe Pitkin in September 2013 Analog. It's not as exciting as the quote may suggest.
Friday Quick Notes
Toe is healing, it seems. It's gone from taking me twice as long to walk anywhere to merely fifty percent longer. On Tuesday, the doctor re-set the bone, the hard way. It was really something. Apparently I'm a person with a high pain tolerance, which I never considered myself to be.
Cyprus is going for Guaranteed Minimum Income scheme, which should be exciting to watch.
Here's the table of contents for the Czech anthology PLNOU PAROU (FULL STEAM) in alphabetical order:
Tobias S. Buckell: Love Comes to Abyssal City
Jeffrey Ford: Dr. Lash Remembers
Eileen Gunn & Michael Swanwick: Zeppelin City
Mark Hodder: The Master Mummer's Mummy
Jay Lake: The Lollygang Save the World on Accident
Ian R. MacLeod: Elementals
Nick Mamatas: Arbeitskraft
Sean McMullen: Eight Miles
Tim Pratt: Silver Linings
Chris Roberson: Edison’s Frankenstein
Jeff VanderMeer: Fixing Hanover
Carrie Vaughn: The Talisman of the Cult of Egil
I'm excited to have work in Czech. I hope this leads to more Czech publications, book translations, bestselling status over there, and a happy retirement eating pastries at midnight cafes forever!
For people on Twitter, please check out the most hilarious hashtag in the world: #RIPLarryShippers. After Channel 4 aired a documentary about "crazy" One Direction fans the other night, rumors started spreading that a girl who wrote fanfic about Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles of the band killed herself. Then it was three girls. Then nine. Then fourteen. It leveled off there for a while. Then it's 42. It shot past fifty for a bit and hit ninety for a few glorious seconds, but then the group hysterics realized that didn't sound legit and it crawled back down to 42. Then of course, the rage turned against the band:
This morning though, a band member named Liam (making him gay with Harry is called Lirry shipping an angry teen told me this morning) said he hoped everything was okay out in Twitterland, and that seemed to resolve some issues.
Cyprus is going for Guaranteed Minimum Income scheme, which should be exciting to watch.
Here's the table of contents for the Czech anthology PLNOU PAROU (FULL STEAM) in alphabetical order:
Tobias S. Buckell: Love Comes to Abyssal City
Jeffrey Ford: Dr. Lash Remembers
Eileen Gunn & Michael Swanwick: Zeppelin City
Mark Hodder: The Master Mummer's Mummy
Jay Lake: The Lollygang Save the World on Accident
Ian R. MacLeod: Elementals
Nick Mamatas: Arbeitskraft
Sean McMullen: Eight Miles
Tim Pratt: Silver Linings
Chris Roberson: Edison’s Frankenstein
Jeff VanderMeer: Fixing Hanover
Carrie Vaughn: The Talisman of the Cult of Egil
I'm excited to have work in Czech. I hope this leads to more Czech publications, book translations, bestselling status over there, and a happy retirement eating pastries at midnight cafes forever!
For people on Twitter, please check out the most hilarious hashtag in the world: #RIPLarryShippers. After Channel 4 aired a documentary about "crazy" One Direction fans the other night, rumors started spreading that a girl who wrote fanfic about Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles of the band killed herself. Then it was three girls. Then nine. Then fourteen. It leveled off there for a while. Then it's 42. It shot past fifty for a bit and hit ninety for a few glorious seconds, but then the group hysterics realized that didn't sound legit and it crawled back down to 42. Then of course, the rage turned against the band:
This morning though, a band member named Liam (making him gay with Harry is called Lirry shipping an angry teen told me this morning) said he hoped everything was okay out in Twitterland, and that seemed to resolve some issues.
August 13, 2013
Who are the Jews for Jesus even targeting with this?
I thought, with the line drawing and everything, that this was a NAMBLA pamphlet or an ironical zine when I found the brochure on the street:
And it's really about Bieber, until Jesus gets whistled in!
And it's really about Bieber, until Jesus gets whistled in!
Nick Mamatas's Blog
- Nick Mamatas's profile
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Nick Mamatas isn't a Goodreads Author
(yet),
but they
do have a blog,
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