Jamie Todd Rubin's Blog, page 360
January 22, 2011
My 2010 Hugo and Nebula nominations
I've done my nominations for the Hugo and Nebula awards for 2010. There were several good novels and one superbly outstanding one. I didn't read a whole lot of short fiction from 2010 so some of those categories are blank. Nominations within each grouping are listed alphabetically by author.
Nebula Nominations
Best Novel
Echo by Jack McDevitt. My comments here.
WWW:Watch by Robert J. Sawyer
Blackout / All Clear by Connie Willis. My comments on this book here and here.
Best Short Story
"Hope" by Michael A. Burstein (Destination:Future)
"What Will Come After" by Scott Edelman (What Will Come After, PS Publishing)
"I'm Alive, I Love You, I'll See You In Reno" by Vylar Kaftan (Lightspeed, June 2010)
Hugo Nominations
Best Novel
Echo by Jack McDevitt
WWW:Watch by Robert J. Sawyer
Blackout/All Clear by Connie Willis
Best Short Story
"Hope" by Michael A. Burstein (Destination:Future)
"What Will Come After" by Scott Edelman (What Will Come After)
"I'm Alive, I Love You, I'll See You In Reno" by Vylar Kaftan (Lightspeed, June 2010)
Best Related Work
The Business of Science Fiction by Mike Resnick and Barry N. Malzberg (see my comments here)
Best Editor, Short Form
John Joseph Adams (Lightspeed)
Neil Clarke (Clarkesworld)
Stanley Schmidt (Analog)
Edmund Schubert (Orson Scott Card's InterGalactic Medicine Show)
Sheila Williams (Asimov's)
Best Semiprozine
Locus
Best Fanzine
SF Signal
John W. Campbell Award for Best New Writer
Saladin Ahmed
A quick comment on Connie Willis' Blackout/All Clear. This is a single book that was split into two books by the publisher. This is not a series. There is no synopsis at the beginning of All Clear. All Clear starts exactly where Blackout left off and it is impossible to read that book and make any sense of it without having reading Blackout. I have therefore nominated the entire book, as written, for the Hugo and Nebula. I don't know if this is allowed. I inquired on this but I haven't yet gotten a response. It would seem remarkably silly to me to have to treat these books individually, but we'll see how things turn out.
Left turn yield on green
Virginia drivers are not particularly bad, but there is one thing I've noticed that drives me just nuts: they seem to refuse to make a left turn on a green light (no green arrow), even when there is no opposing traffic; even when there is a sign above the light that says "Left turn yield on green." What's with that?
I learned to drive in L.A. In L.A. you creep out into the intersection in the left hand turn lane, until your car is completely in the intersection. If there is no opposing traffic, you make your turn. If there is traffic, you wait until the light changes and the traffic stops and then make your turn. In parts of New York, some people will make the left turn as soon as the light turns green, jumping ahead of the opposing traffic. (In New Jersey, there's no such thing as a left turn.)
But in Virginia, the cars don't creep into the intersection, they make no effort at turning when the traffic is clear. They just sit there until they have a green arrow. I suppose there is a certain safety in this, but it is almost like they don't understand the sign that's sitting right in front of them. It's not really a big deal one way or the other, but it's one thing about Virginia drivers that I've found to be generally consistent and generally annoying.
January 21, 2011
Writers and editors
I was chatting with a fellow writer yesterday about meeting editors. Ask a dozen writers what they think of their editors and you'll get a dozen different responses. My own view, heavily influenced by Isaac Asimov's view, is that editors are the "bosses" in the relationship and should be treated as such. I realize there will be writers how there who read this and laugh derisively at me–naive fool that I am–but like I said, it's how I was brought up and it takes a lot of doing to convince me otherwise.
In truth, that isn't quite accurate. A better way to describe my view of editors is as teachers. Editors will teach you what works and what doesn't work in a story. They teach you what works by accepting a story. They teach you what doesn't work by requesting revisions. The vast majority are forced to let you figure it out yourself, but even there, if you are resourceful, it can help. Obviously, some editors are better teachers than others.
My first story sale required several revisions. Edmund Schubert, editor of InterGalactic Medicine Show worked very patiently with me, pointing out those parts of the story he felt were weak or didn't work well. He would suggest what the problem might be, but he would leave it up to me to fix it. This was incredibly important because I learned a lot through this process. Eventually, I sold him the story, met him in person on a number of occasions and since, we have become friends. However, I still think of Edmund as a kind of teacher/boss when I submit stories to him.
Prior to selling a story to Analog, I received a couple of rejection slips from Stan Schmidt, each of which pinpointed what he thought didn't work about the story. Like Edmund, Stan didn't suggest how to fix it, but like Edmund, he supplied encouragement, telling me that he liked me writing and to continue to submit. I must have read and reread those rejection slips hundreds of times and each time I sent Stan a story, I tried to avoid the mistakes that he pointed out in his previous letter. It was like being back in an airplane making my first landings. Come in the first time too hot and go around. Come in the next time too flat and go around. Eventually, you get it just right and grease the landing. In fact, it took three tries with Stan and on that third try, the note I got from him started with, "I'm taking this story…" Eventually I met Stan in person and found out what a nice, down-to-earth guy he was (to say nothing of brilliant).
I've met Sheila Williams and Neil Clarke, and was nervous on both occasions, which is odd since I am generally an outgoing person. Why should I be nervous of someone I look at as a teacher? Part of it, I think, is an internal desire to want to be taken seriously as a writer, to separate yourself out from the mass of would-be writers. I imagine every writer must feel this way at some point. Before you ever sell a story, approaching an editor is like going up to a movie star. You get the feeling they are rolling their eyes and thinking, "Here comes another story pitch…" Even when you've sold a few stories there are so many good writers out there that it's hard to imagine the editor recognizing your name–unless you've already sold them a story.
Most of this is in my head, and I realize that. But you have to remember that I've been a fan of science fiction for decades and a writer of science fiction for only a few years. It is a difficult mental transition to make. But I'm trying to make that transition. I have, for instance, never met the editor from whom I've gotten the most rejection slips–and it's not because that editor has rejected my stories more than anyone else. It's difficult to approach someone, when in your head you imagine them thinking, Oh, this is the person who keeps sending me bad stories. Of course, that's silly, the stories aren't all bad, they just don't meet editorial tastes. In any event, I've been convinced to approach this editor at a convention later on in the year and introduce myself. Now I only have to drum up the nerve…
…or do I? There is an alternative solution to this little problem. Maybe I can manage to sell this editor a story before the convention. Then, at least, I wouldn't feel like a total stranger. I'd have some street cred, so to speak.
I'll tell you all about it–after it happens.
January 20, 2011
Life, in 15-minute chunks
The last few days have been long and endlessly busy. Kelly is down with some kind of bug–a stomach flu perhaps–and has been mostly bedridden. She is a much better multi-tasker than I am, and she makes it look easy, too, but these last few days have required me to step up and try and fill in for her. It's not an easy job. The Little Man's school was closed earlier in the week and I stayed home–there was no way I could work and take care of him at the same time. I took advantage of those snaps of time when he was preoccupied with some activity to prepare for later in the day: washing bottles, straighten up the house,taking out the trash, you name it. With Kelly still down, that has continued. And it has been complicated by the fact that I haven't been sleeping too well. I was up at midnight last night and didn't really get back to sleep until almost 5am.
What I've found is that I am living life in 15-minute chunks. I take 15 minutes to keep the Little Man entertained, and then dash off for 15 minutes to empty the dishwasher or clean out the cat litter. Then it's back to 15 minutes with the Little Man, and then 15 minutes preparing dinner. Occasionally, I find 15 minutes to read a few pages of Astounding. Or 15 minutes to read a a few pages of a story for the writers group. Even once the Little Man is finally asleep, I can only seem to do things in 15 minute stretches: 15 minutes writing a blog post for the next day; 15 minutes responding to accumulated email messages.
This has been true at work lately, too. My list of projects and my to-do list has grown so long, and there is such a backlog, that I jump from task-to-task in 15 minute quanta. It doesn't make for the most productive environment. And it leaves me tired by the end of the day so that I am often in bed just after 8pm with the intention of being up at 5am to get in some writing–something that hasn't worked out too well these last couple of weeks.
I realize these things come in phases. Kelly will get better and things will gradually get back to normal–at least at home. At work, it seems, there is no end in sight.
It's a little scary how quickly you can get used to living life in 15-minute chunks, however.
Preparing for my vacation in the Golden Age
What to bring, what to bring? Packing for my vacation in the Golden Age of science fiction can be as troublesome as packing for Hawaii or Europe. Or Santa Monica. The difficulty is this: what do you bring when you are travelling back in time?
Because that's what this is: a vacation in the past. Only unlike the time travel stories told on the pages of Astounding, this trip involves real time travel, using a real time machine: old science fiction magazines. I've already starting, reading nearly half of the July 1939 issue and that issue really has functioned like a time machine, taking me back to a time two generations before my birth. My grandfather was about to turn 19 when that issue hit the news stands. The world was on the brink of war. Even the advertisements in the magazine tell a story, just like advertising today reveals things about our culture. As I read, I get a little bit of a shiver thinking, gee, Isaac Asimov lifted this very issue from the Street & Smith offices when he saw a stack of them on his way out from visiting Campbell. He went home read the very words that I am reading now. If that's not time travel, I don't know what is.
And keep in mind, this issue is nearly 72 years old. Who was the first person to possess this copy. It's in surprisingly good condition, so it has been well-taken care of. Where did they get it? Was it sent to them via subscription? There's no labeling of any kind which points to purchase at a magazine stand somewhere, perhaps a little mom and pop candy shop somewhere in Brooklyn. Is that first owner still alive? How old were they when they picked it up? And where has the magazine been since? They say that a generation in the science fiction world is about 3 years; that is, every three year, science fiction has an entirely new batch of readers. In the space of 72 years, that's more than 25 generations of science fiction readers. How many scientists were born of this magazine? How many science fiction writers? How many kids learned to read because this issue fell into their hands?
We take baggage on vacation and I bring baggage into the past with me. I can't pretend to experience the Golden Age in exactly the same way that those who lived it did. For one thing, that kind of time travel is impossible. For another, I have future knowledge. Like a true time traveler, I go back into the Golden Age knowing the course of history as it will unfold, knowing all about the dark days of World War II, and the terrible loss of life; knowing the Allied victory and the race for the atomic bomb. I go back into the past knowing what will become of the new writers whose names fill the July, August, September '39 issues. Like the character in Heinlein's first story, "Life-line" in the August '39 issue, I could whisper to that young man the day on which his life would come to an end. Only I can't, because it's not that kind of time travel–and really, Asimov and Heinlein's lives never really come to an end. They are preserved for future generations in the pages of Astounding… and elsewhere.
There is other baggage, the baggage that a writer of science fiction carries with them. Editorial tastes change over months and years and decades. Some of the stories from the Golden Age seem to break many of the rules that we are trained to avoid breaking (overusing adverbs and adjectives, for instance). I have to try to remember the context in which these stories were written. Hard as it is, I also have to try to remember that in many cases, particularly the earlier issues, these were the first stories of writers who eventually became giants in the field. They aren't all spectacular. That shouldn't be a disappointment. To a writer, that should be a relief: even the best of us started out learning and yet were able to climb to climb to the top of the field with patience and practice.
All of this must be considered to make those jaunts into the past as delightful as they can be. So far, it really does feel like a vacation, and I'm anxious to both savor and finish up the July issue so that I can report back on the first leg of this exciting journey.
The September 1941 Astounding
Given how rare some of these old magazines are, and how collectors tend to hold onto them, I thought that the September 1941 issue of Astounding would be among the most difficult (and expensive) to acquire. But I managed to get a copy and it is in the mail as I write this. It was not expensive and the copy is listed as being in good condition.
The reason this particular issue is so important is that is contains two of the most famous stories in science fiction ever written: "Nightfall" by Isaac Asimov, which is the lead novelette and for which the cover illustration was done; and "Adam and No Eve" by Alfred Bester. It also contains the conclusion of Heinlein's 3-part serial "Methuselah's Children". I'm very excited to have managed to get my hands on this one.
I know have the first 18 consecutive issue of the Golden Age, with the next gap being January 1941. But I have some time before I need to start worrying about filling that slot.
I'm about 1/3rd of the way through the July 1939 issue and loving every minute I get to spend back in that golden age. And I'm still aiming to have Episode 1 of my vacation in the golden age posted on Monday. Stay tuned.
January 19, 2011
Small progress on "Rescue"
I was up at 5am to work on "Rescue" and begin the actual writing but I didn't get very far. I didn't sleep too well last night, but I also had to read a few manuscripts for the Arlington Writers Group meeting tonight and that had to take precedent this morning, since I have no other time during the day today to read them. Typically, I don't wait until the last minute, but I've had my hands full. Once piece is now done and I'm about to start the next. I did manage to move my notes for "Rescue" into Scrivener and begin setting up the scene structure. I have to go through the notes and figure out which scenes to cut, which to leave in, which to alter, where to plant various seeds. That will likely be tomorrow. And then I can start writing and it will be (hopefully) smooth sailing from there.
I feel like I am procrastinating but really I am trying to take a complex narrative out of a novel and crush it down into something half it's length. That isn't proving to be an easy task, despite the fact that I think I have a good story to tell.
It doesn't help that I've had the July 1939 issue of Astounding staring me in the face all morning. I desperately want to read more of it, but it looks like I might not have any time for it today. Even lunch is booked up.
On the plus side, I managed to acquire the September 1941 Astounding last night, for a very good price at that. I thought that would be the most difficult issue of all to acquire since it contains Asimov's "Nightfall" and Bester's "Adam and No Eve". Can't wait to get that one in the mail.
January 18, 2011
My Vacation in the Golden Age is about to commence
There was no mail yesterday thanks to the federal holiday. Last night there was an ice storm which kept us home from work, and all day long I've been worrying that the mail would not arrive. But the mail truck just drove up and the mailman delivered the one package I've been waiting for in order to get started on my vacation in the Golden Age of Science Fiction. The July and August 1939 Astounding's have arrived and they are in the best condition of any of the issues I have received thus far. Check out the pictures below.
I'm getting started right away, and it is my hope to have the first post of this vacation up on Monday. After that, expect one each Monday unless that schedule is too aggressive for me to keep up with, in which case I'll revisit it. At this point, I have the first 18 consecutive issues of the Golden Age and that gives me plenty of time to start to fill in the gaps.
Anatomy of a story read-through
This afternoon I finished my read through of Part 1 of my NaNoWriMo novel. The piece was 35,500 words long. I read through it on my Kindle and made more than 165 notes as I worked through it.
One of the most valuable things I've got from the writers groups to which I belong is to learn how to critique my own work. Critique other people's work enough time and you really do start to learn what to look for in your own. When I wrote Part 1, I thought I had something pretty good. When I started reading, I tried reading with a critical eye, one in which I was looking to cut form 35,000 words down to 15-to-20,000 and to make it a self-contained story, and add an element of mystery at that.
What follows is a list of some of the comments I made as read through Part 1. They will obviously be out of context, since you won't see the original passages, but I think some of them provide a useful insight into how to take a critical look at a draft of a story, and the kinds of questions I ask myself. To some of these I have added some additional comments to provide a better context for what I mean.
Be more specific here. First drafts, for me, are often like sketches. In this case, I had a line that simply read, "It seemed like forever since she smiled." My note is basically telling me to add color, to illustrate this better. Instead of saying it, so something to make it seem unusual. Maybe she will smile for the first time in a while and notice the color of her teeth–which will get her to thinking that she hadn't smiled in a while. Bottom line is to take this out of draft form and give it life.
Need to make sure this is consistent. This was a continuity issue, and the note is telling me to make sure that this is consistent with the state of the scene a few minutes earlier.
This should show up later…. One of the many ways I indicate the placement of breadcrumbs that tie various story elements together. In this case it refers to a bottle of wine which I think needs to be more symbolic after a major event in the story has taken place. Now that I more or less know the whole story, I know that this will fit well if it came back into play later on.
This is good because it is a nice segue into a complication. Okay, not all of my comments are critical. I find it nice to occasionally call out the stuff that works, too.
Another theme and challenge to overcome. Just identifying themes. The note tells me this should play a bigger part in the overall story arc.
Not sure this is a necessary complication in a novelette. Sometimes you have to pick your battles, especially when cutting.
Too info-dumpy? I think this is self-explanatory. This shows up on a number of occasions. I take it as a challenge to rewrite the scene in a way to convey the important information without dumping. In second draft, doing this can be a lot of fun.
This is probably a better way of handling the info-dump. But really: how does it tie into the story? Sometimes I ask myself stuff like this as a way of deciding if a particular story element is worth it.
This is where the action in the scene really begins. Useful in cutting and getting to the point.
Why go to this planet? This is one question for which I'm going to need a good answer. Here I'm trying to anticipate criticisms that editors will have, based on my past experience. This is a hole in the story that needs to be closed up neatly.
Great line. I do have them once in a while.
If I do cut this scene, at least this part is useful. The difference between radical cutting and surgical cutting. This story has both so the note helps me distinguish.
I don't think this character can assume this yet. Novice writers (myself included) often make the mistake of assuming their character has all of the information just because they (the author) has all of the information. I still do this from time to time and this note is a reminder of that. The character is question is making an assumption based on information that s/he can't have yet.
Might be a better place to end the scene. More tension that way. A read-through can also give me a better indication on how well my scene breaks and transitions are working and a note like this is a marker for making it better.
I think I'm going to have to cut her as a viewpoint character in the novelette. I have limited space and I'm worried that too many POVs in a novelette will be confusing, so this note is a reminder of which viewpoints to cut out.
I like this a lot but I don't think it has a place in the novelette. Me being brutally honest with myself, which you have to be when reading your own stuff.
Sounds a little too much like, "Well, you know, Bob…" Another way of indicating an info-dump.
I'm ultimately going to need more technical details here to satisfy the particular audience I'm targeting. Another marker indicating where to ratchet up info as opposed to get rid of it. Sometimes, you need it. It depends on the audience.
There isn't much to his character that comes across. Need to think about ways of changing that. Okay here I have a character who is necessary but simply too bland and the note is a reminder to make him more interesting in the story version.
Like I said, there are about 165 notes like these scattered throughout the story. Now, I have to read through all the notes, move them into Scrivener in a way that they will be useful, and then I can start writing "Rescue". Actually, I can cheat a little, because I already know exactly how the story is going to open and I don't need the notes for that.
Taking advantage of an ice-day
My obliviousness to the news apparently runs to the weather as well. Kelly mentioned something about inclement weather last night, but I didn't think much of it. When I went to bed last night, I could hear the ice on the windows. But I got up this morning, showered, and got ready for work. I was about to go out and defrost the car when Kelly asked me to check if the Little Man's school was close: and it turned out it was. I went to warm the car and scrape off ice and by the time I was done, I decided it was too dangerous to get out on the roads and try and drive the 5 miles to the office. So I took an emergency day and am staying home with the Little Man. We sat on the couch for more than an hour, cuddled up, on the verge of napping and it was very, very nice.
In between cuddles, I'm trying to take advantage of the extra time today: mostly by working on "Rescue". I'm nearly finished with my read-through of the original NaNoWriMo version of the story and I'll report more on that once I finish the reading. I also hope to get the first words of the new novelette version of the story started today.
The Little Man is currently on the couch with an apple bar and juice, watching Special Agent Oso. Kelly is upstairs working. And I'm putting on the Bose noise-canceling headphones (I can only take so much Playhouse Disney) and getting back to work on "Rescue".
I really hope the mail is delivered today.
