Scott Lynch's Blog, page 8
August 23, 2011
The Armadillocon Cometh
Whee. Had some anxiety issues recently that have kept me quiet. But time and important events are catching up with me, and it's time to put on my fighting trousers and get to postin'.
This weeks's first bit of big news is that I am returning to ARMADILLOCON, in hot but lovely Austin, Texas, from Thursday the 25th to Sunday the 28th. All of my scheduled things are lined up for Saturday, and they are as follows:
SIGNING
Saturday, 11:00 AM - Noon
Dealers' Room
L. Donahue, M. Fletcher, S. Lynch, A. Marmell, P. Sarath, L. Thomas
READING
Saturday, Noon - 12:30 PM
Pecos
Just me!
If there's still time after the reading, I will return to the Dealer's Room and be available there until 1 PM.
PANEL: Class Issues In SF/F
Saturday 3:00 - 4:00 PM
Sabine
J. Lansdale, S. Lynch, M. Maresca, W. Shetterly*
From working class heroes to emperors, they all have a place in sf/f. How are their differences most effectively shown in sf/f?
PANEL: The Second Book is Always the Hardest
Saturday 5:00 - 6:00 PM
Sabine
A. Downum, S. Leicht, S. Lynch*, A. Marmell, J. McDermott, S. White
Authors often spend many years producing their first book. And after it's finally sold and published, they're usually asked to produce another in a much shorter timeframe. Our panelists have recently gone through this process (or are going through it now) and can provide insights.
*Hey, I'm moderating a panel for the first time ever! Dissent will be crushed! All shall kneel and beg for absolution... it shall not be granted! All this, and possibly cookies.
PANEL: Wiscon and Elizabeth Moon: What Happened and What Can We Learn from It?
Saturday 8:00 - 9:00 PM
Trinity
E. Bull*, S. Leicht, S. Lynch, L. Person, C. Rambo, L. Thomas
Elizabeth Moon was invited and announced as Guest of Honor for the 2011 Wiscon, but the invitation was withdrawn following a noteworthy blog post she wrote. What were the issues, and was the situation handled appropriately? How do we avoid similar situations?
This weeks's first bit of big news is that I am returning to ARMADILLOCON, in hot but lovely Austin, Texas, from Thursday the 25th to Sunday the 28th. All of my scheduled things are lined up for Saturday, and they are as follows:
SIGNING
Saturday, 11:00 AM - Noon
Dealers' Room
L. Donahue, M. Fletcher, S. Lynch, A. Marmell, P. Sarath, L. Thomas
READING
Saturday, Noon - 12:30 PM
Pecos
Just me!
If there's still time after the reading, I will return to the Dealer's Room and be available there until 1 PM.
PANEL: Class Issues In SF/F
Saturday 3:00 - 4:00 PM
Sabine
J. Lansdale, S. Lynch, M. Maresca, W. Shetterly*
From working class heroes to emperors, they all have a place in sf/f. How are their differences most effectively shown in sf/f?
PANEL: The Second Book is Always the Hardest
Saturday 5:00 - 6:00 PM
Sabine
A. Downum, S. Leicht, S. Lynch*, A. Marmell, J. McDermott, S. White
Authors often spend many years producing their first book. And after it's finally sold and published, they're usually asked to produce another in a much shorter timeframe. Our panelists have recently gone through this process (or are going through it now) and can provide insights.
*Hey, I'm moderating a panel for the first time ever! Dissent will be crushed! All shall kneel and beg for absolution... it shall not be granted! All this, and possibly cookies.
PANEL: Wiscon and Elizabeth Moon: What Happened and What Can We Learn from It?
Saturday 8:00 - 9:00 PM
Trinity
E. Bull*, S. Leicht, S. Lynch, L. Person, C. Rambo, L. Thomas
Elizabeth Moon was invited and announced as Guest of Honor for the 2011 Wiscon, but the invitation was withdrawn following a noteworthy blog post she wrote. What were the issues, and was the situation handled appropriately? How do we avoid similar situations?
July 17, 2011
Reviews: Dorsai! and Berserker
Once I got my brain more or less re-knit together following the Interesting Times, I started on a concerted plan to whittle down the small army of unread books on my shelves. This pile includes quite a few moldie oldies, classics, and semi-classics of science fiction that I've been meaning to read since approximately forever ago. So without any further ado, here are some thoughts on two books that go ZAP! in the night.
Dorsai! by Gordon R. Dickson (1960)
*****
How can you not love that exclamation point? It's so endearing. If I ever write anything in a mil-SF vein, I'm going to call it Holy Fuck! That Guy Has a Laser!
There is much of scholarly interest here, since you can see how elements of Dorsai! formed the backbone of Hammer's Slammers and thus nearly the entire military SF sub-field. In narrative terms, Dorsai! is diverting but less than successful. Its vintage is intrusively apparent, and it offers a universe devoid of even the Heinleinian Competent Woman. In Dorsai! human females have only two apparent skills-- being decorative and throwing fits.
In the universe of Dorsai! the worlds of humanity have become over-specialized, and their interstellar economy is based on trading the services of their respective experts. The Dorsai are super-soldiers of legendary skill, not to be provoked by lesser men, though how they acquired these traits and how their planet/society shapes them is all severely underexplained (contrast this with, say, the Sardaukar and Fremen of Dune, whose savagery is explicitly justified by the harshness of their environments).
Donal Graeme, an atypically introspective Dorsai, is our protagonist, and the novel follows his rise from position to position, battle to battle, as his fame and influence grows. Most of these incidents are mildly interesting little puzzles, but at no point do any of them seem to offer Donal real danger, or to require real improvisation and risk. About the worst he faces is the physical strain of a repeated space-warp in an effort to create the illusion that his tiny fleet is a much larger sequence of attacking waves; the issue here is that the strain is still willingly self-inflicted rather than a consequence of coming up against a truly formidable or interesting antagonist. Finally, the end of the novel contains an intrusion of stark mysticism that I find jarring, even if it is explained by the longest unrelieved expositional babbling in the whole book.
Dorsai! does have the charm of offering certain phrases and patterns of speech that have left common use. "Not all the other worlds of men combined would dare to try conclusions with that one world of soldiers born and bred!" says the back-cover blurb. Heh. I love the quaint and unwieldy sound of "try conclusions." Dorsai! is also a relic of a time when the term "black man" was, bizarrely, more likely to mean "white dude with very dark hair" than "dude with dark skin."
All in all, a hearty "meh." Dickson put a lot of ambition and research into the cycle that Dorsai! kicked off, there's no denying that, I just don't think the pieces knit as intended in this book. His later novella in the same milieu, "Soldier, Ask Not," was stronger.
Berserker by Fred Saberhagen (1963-67)
*****
I've been meaning to look into Saberhagen's Berserker milieu since I read the short story "Wings Out of Shadow" in this anthology... um... jesus, eighteen years ago. Never let it be said that I am some mere dilettante of procrastination; I am a goddamn gratification-delaying tyrannosaurus.
The Berserkers are implacable alien death machines, relics of some long-ago interstellar war, programmed by their creators to eradicate life. They took their job description very literally*, and now they prowl the galaxy, making sentient organisms go squish. This is the sort of conceit that makes one's inner 14-year-old glow with approval.
Unfortunately, this collection of linked short stories has a frequent "puzzle of the week" feel to it, and since each story is a tale of one or more human beings finding some clever or blitheringly idiotic way to foil a Berserker, the cumulative effect is to diminish their sense of menace. Also, Saberhagen conceived the Berserkers in an era when the horizons of computer intelligence and response were less broadly imagined. As a result, the Berserkers are not quite as dim as the sort of critically defective supercomputer James T. Kirk used to beat up on Star Trek:
KIRK: "Computer! I tell you, I am a rooster, and yet I wear pants!"
COMPUTER: "LOGICAL FALLACY! DOES NOT COMPUTE!" (Politely explodes, releasing all the hot women it was holding prisoner for some reason.)
... but they're not that much better.
And I really could have done without the story in which a damaged Berserker space vessel is re-programmed by a human prankster to throw a gigantic custard pie at pursuing human spaceships.
A custard pie. Really?
But it's not all bad-to-middling. Saberhagen has genuine sinister panache when he just lets it out of its cage. There's a fantastic sequence where a human-sized Berserker, concealed by mask and robe, is released at an interstellar dinner party in an homage to Poe's "Masque of the Red Death." Actually, most of the better stories (like that one) feature the decadent, cynical, quietly suicidal despot Felipe Nogara (the "Is he Japanese, Spanish, or Italian?" half-brother of the story cycle's obviously very caucasian hero, Johann Karlsen). Karlsen is one of the major disappointments of the story cycle, in that he has the "sole shining hope for humanity" role thrust upon him. Not just philosophically... the mathematical analysis of the Berserkers indicates that Karlsen is the prime threat to them in existence, that his exquisite generalship is humanity's greatest weapon, yadda yadda yadda... this is an SFnal variation of the Chosen One trope, and it's just not something that piques my interest.
I view it as an abandonment of the interesting humanistic question of how a species fights a war against an advanced and implacable foe through countless local acts of heroism, cleverness and sacrifice, and a turn to the realm of magical thinking... how One Special Leader can supposedly fix everything. It's a lasting and tragic theme in human history, our preoccupation with messianic figures, and even a worthy basis for stories... but not when it's unexamined.
I will read at least the next book in the series, very possibly before another eighteen years have passed, but I make no promises beyond that.
*****
*Honestly, when could building this sort of thing ever be considered a good idea? What is it with long-vanished science fictional precursor species anyway?
TECHNICIAN: Hey there, Autonomous Death Machine Alpha One, can you hear me okay?
DEATH MACHINE ALPHA ONE: I CAN HEAR YOU JUST FINE.
TECHNICIAN: Great, awesome. Look, I've finally got your supreme operating protocols here, and I'll, uh, read them to you, okay?
DEATH MACHINE ALPHA ONE: OKAY.
TECHNICIAN: Swell. Here goes. Uh, "The First and Highest Law: Seek out and destroy all life wherever it may be found, by whatever means necessary." You got that one?
DEATH MACHINE ALPHA ONE: YES. SOUNDS GREAT. HERE, HAVE SOME BULLETS.
TECHNICIAN: No, wait, there's still three more of these-- holy fuckin' cockweasels!
(KA-BLAM! KA-BLAM! KA-BLAM!)
Dorsai! by Gordon R. Dickson (1960)
*****
How can you not love that exclamation point? It's so endearing. If I ever write anything in a mil-SF vein, I'm going to call it Holy Fuck! That Guy Has a Laser!
There is much of scholarly interest here, since you can see how elements of Dorsai! formed the backbone of Hammer's Slammers and thus nearly the entire military SF sub-field. In narrative terms, Dorsai! is diverting but less than successful. Its vintage is intrusively apparent, and it offers a universe devoid of even the Heinleinian Competent Woman. In Dorsai! human females have only two apparent skills-- being decorative and throwing fits.
In the universe of Dorsai! the worlds of humanity have become over-specialized, and their interstellar economy is based on trading the services of their respective experts. The Dorsai are super-soldiers of legendary skill, not to be provoked by lesser men, though how they acquired these traits and how their planet/society shapes them is all severely underexplained (contrast this with, say, the Sardaukar and Fremen of Dune, whose savagery is explicitly justified by the harshness of their environments).
Donal Graeme, an atypically introspective Dorsai, is our protagonist, and the novel follows his rise from position to position, battle to battle, as his fame and influence grows. Most of these incidents are mildly interesting little puzzles, but at no point do any of them seem to offer Donal real danger, or to require real improvisation and risk. About the worst he faces is the physical strain of a repeated space-warp in an effort to create the illusion that his tiny fleet is a much larger sequence of attacking waves; the issue here is that the strain is still willingly self-inflicted rather than a consequence of coming up against a truly formidable or interesting antagonist. Finally, the end of the novel contains an intrusion of stark mysticism that I find jarring, even if it is explained by the longest unrelieved expositional babbling in the whole book.
Dorsai! does have the charm of offering certain phrases and patterns of speech that have left common use. "Not all the other worlds of men combined would dare to try conclusions with that one world of soldiers born and bred!" says the back-cover blurb. Heh. I love the quaint and unwieldy sound of "try conclusions." Dorsai! is also a relic of a time when the term "black man" was, bizarrely, more likely to mean "white dude with very dark hair" than "dude with dark skin."
All in all, a hearty "meh." Dickson put a lot of ambition and research into the cycle that Dorsai! kicked off, there's no denying that, I just don't think the pieces knit as intended in this book. His later novella in the same milieu, "Soldier, Ask Not," was stronger.
Berserker by Fred Saberhagen (1963-67)
*****
I've been meaning to look into Saberhagen's Berserker milieu since I read the short story "Wings Out of Shadow" in this anthology... um... jesus, eighteen years ago. Never let it be said that I am some mere dilettante of procrastination; I am a goddamn gratification-delaying tyrannosaurus.
The Berserkers are implacable alien death machines, relics of some long-ago interstellar war, programmed by their creators to eradicate life. They took their job description very literally*, and now they prowl the galaxy, making sentient organisms go squish. This is the sort of conceit that makes one's inner 14-year-old glow with approval.
Unfortunately, this collection of linked short stories has a frequent "puzzle of the week" feel to it, and since each story is a tale of one or more human beings finding some clever or blitheringly idiotic way to foil a Berserker, the cumulative effect is to diminish their sense of menace. Also, Saberhagen conceived the Berserkers in an era when the horizons of computer intelligence and response were less broadly imagined. As a result, the Berserkers are not quite as dim as the sort of critically defective supercomputer James T. Kirk used to beat up on Star Trek:
KIRK: "Computer! I tell you, I am a rooster, and yet I wear pants!"
COMPUTER: "LOGICAL FALLACY! DOES NOT COMPUTE!" (Politely explodes, releasing all the hot women it was holding prisoner for some reason.)
... but they're not that much better.
And I really could have done without the story in which a damaged Berserker space vessel is re-programmed by a human prankster to throw a gigantic custard pie at pursuing human spaceships.
A custard pie. Really?
But it's not all bad-to-middling. Saberhagen has genuine sinister panache when he just lets it out of its cage. There's a fantastic sequence where a human-sized Berserker, concealed by mask and robe, is released at an interstellar dinner party in an homage to Poe's "Masque of the Red Death." Actually, most of the better stories (like that one) feature the decadent, cynical, quietly suicidal despot Felipe Nogara (the "Is he Japanese, Spanish, or Italian?" half-brother of the story cycle's obviously very caucasian hero, Johann Karlsen). Karlsen is one of the major disappointments of the story cycle, in that he has the "sole shining hope for humanity" role thrust upon him. Not just philosophically... the mathematical analysis of the Berserkers indicates that Karlsen is the prime threat to them in existence, that his exquisite generalship is humanity's greatest weapon, yadda yadda yadda... this is an SFnal variation of the Chosen One trope, and it's just not something that piques my interest.
I view it as an abandonment of the interesting humanistic question of how a species fights a war against an advanced and implacable foe through countless local acts of heroism, cleverness and sacrifice, and a turn to the realm of magical thinking... how One Special Leader can supposedly fix everything. It's a lasting and tragic theme in human history, our preoccupation with messianic figures, and even a worthy basis for stories... but not when it's unexamined.
I will read at least the next book in the series, very possibly before another eighteen years have passed, but I make no promises beyond that.
*****
*Honestly, when could building this sort of thing ever be considered a good idea? What is it with long-vanished science fictional precursor species anyway?
TECHNICIAN: Hey there, Autonomous Death Machine Alpha One, can you hear me okay?
DEATH MACHINE ALPHA ONE: I CAN HEAR YOU JUST FINE.
TECHNICIAN: Great, awesome. Look, I've finally got your supreme operating protocols here, and I'll, uh, read them to you, okay?
DEATH MACHINE ALPHA ONE: OKAY.
TECHNICIAN: Swell. Here goes. Uh, "The First and Highest Law: Seek out and destroy all life wherever it may be found, by whatever means necessary." You got that one?
DEATH MACHINE ALPHA ONE: YES. SOUNDS GREAT. HERE, HAVE SOME BULLETS.
TECHNICIAN: No, wait, there's still three more of these-- holy fuckin' cockweasels!
(KA-BLAM! KA-BLAM! KA-BLAM!)
Review: Imaginary Worlds (Lin Carter, 1973)
The publishing world moves. Let's crank some steampunk into this metaphor-- think of it as a huge shuddering jury-rigged monstrosity fussing and clanking along an unlit track in a clockwork universe. The location of the control room is unknown, the identity of the pilots a subject of universal debate. Bits and pieces of the leviathan are always going dark, and repair crews are forever scuttling about, never armed with ideal tools or knowledge for their jobs, trying to coax them back to life. Large sections of the leviathan occasionally shear off and plunge into the darkness. Energetic and desperate smart-asses are always building weird new edifices on top of the existing mega-structure. Sometimes these additions blaze into glorious life. Sometimes they explode.
And yet the whole kit-bashed triple-bypassed juggernaut moves ceaselessly forward. It doesn't slow down, it doesn't stop, and it certainly doesn't go back to revisit old points along the track.
Lin Carter's Imaginary Worlds is an artifact from another time, forty years ago, when fantasy was just starting to come into what you might call the relatively unified commercial identity we take for granted now. It's an overview of fantasy written after The Lord of the Rings broke into broad awareness, but long before terms like "epic fantasy," "fat fantasy," and "extruded fantasy product" were anything but a glimmer in the minds of internet complainers. The World Fantasy Awards didn't exist. Tolkien imitators were not yet a sub-industry. Roleplaying games were still specks in a corner of the geek petri dish. Books that self-identified as science fiction were the Big Dogs, and commercial fantasy was a puppy still trying to figure out how its eyes and legs worked.
Forty years farther along the track, some of us riding the leviathan could do with a glance back to put things in context. Despite wince-inducing weaknesses, Imaginary Worlds does passable service in providing that glance.
An examination of the titles in the Ballantine Adult Fantasy series of 1969-74 (of which Imaginary Worlds was the sole non-fiction entrant) shows quite a few works originally published in the 1920s, 1930s, and even some as far back as the mid-19th century. The series included orientalist romances, philosophical analogies, "weird tales" and extracosmic horror, sword-and-sorcery and planetary romance, and even prose retellings of traditional legends. This is the melange that Carter's book attempts to cover, describing emerging movements and traditions but not neglecting idiosyncratic and sometimes unilateral experiments.
The book is brisk and information-dense. Names, titles, and reading suggestions are thick on the pages. This can truly be called an inclusive survey of Western fantasy up to 1973, but the emphasis is resolutely Western. Asian literature and legend, for example, are mentioned only in the form of Western pastiches. If Carter did any research on contemporary fantasy anywhere except Europe and the Anglophone nations, it was glaringly omitted from Imaginary Worlds.
Carter also has no shortage of admirable enthusiasm for the work of female writers, but his quaintly gallant chauvinism is comical, even as an artifact of its time. Katherine Kurtz is described as a "vivacious blonde." At one point Carter feels it necessary to defend L. Sprague de Camp's "red-bloodedness" with a reference to "his petite blonde wife.*" Alexi Panshin is granted a description as "writer and critic" but his wife and full collaborator Cory is only "his attractive wife." Ursula LeGuin and Evangeline Walton, though lavished with praise for their work, are never given any physical description. I don't think it's uncharitable to suggest it has something to do with the fact that they were over 40 when Imaginary Worlds was written.
Carter's prose can be problematic. On the positive side, his voice is strongly developed and flavorful, projecting amiability and a passionate love for his subject. On the other hand, he seems to have never met a hyperbolic adverb he didn't like. Nothing can be merely "successful" in his descriptions; it must be amazingly successful, surprisingly successful, stupendously successful! This love of hyperbole and "embiggening" is carried into everything, even biographical details, giving rise to the uncomfortable sensation that Carter is sometimes inflating legends rather than reporting facts.
His unexamined self-satisfaction is evident in his "how to write fantasy" chapters as well. He offers a great deal of genuinely useful suggestion and criticism, but there is something giggle-worthy in seeing Carter tsk-tsk other writers for their unpoetic invented names before proudly citing his own "Thongor the barbarian" as a shining example of how to do it right.
With those major caveats registered, Imaginary Worlds is still a useful and acceptably detailed introduction to quite a few authors and once-popular (or at least more common) styles of fantasy that have fallen into shadow over the years.
*****
* The full reference, "his petite blonde wife and his two strapping sons," is even more eyebrow-raising. Nowhere else in the book does Carter feel the need to single out another male author and reassure the reader that the guy's dick works.
Charity Auction Update
The electronic dust has settled, and the results are:
Two separate auctions collected a total of $365.37 for the Planned Parenthood Federation of America.
The auction for the benefit of the Rosenberg family drew in $202.50.
I'll be cutting those checks this coming week, and I'm extremely, extremely grateful to everyone who bid. Books will be going out to the auction winners on Monday, and I'll update y'all via email or private message to let you know they're on the way.
A few hours remain on the last
I have thrown up again for the benefit of the Rosenberg family-- it's a hardcover 1st printing of the first US edition of RED SEAS from 2007, and it's up for five days.
Two separate auctions collected a total of $365.37 for the Planned Parenthood Federation of America.
The auction for the benefit of the Rosenberg family drew in $202.50.
I'll be cutting those checks this coming week, and I'm extremely, extremely grateful to everyone who bid. Books will be going out to the auction winners on Monday, and I'll update y'all via email or private message to let you know they're on the way.
A few hours remain on the last
I have thrown up again for the benefit of the Rosenberg family-- it's a hardcover 1st printing of the first US edition of RED SEAS from 2007, and it's up for five days.
July 11, 2011
"In the Stacks," In Your Ear
I'm very pleased to announce that the folks at Podcastle, the fantasy audio magazine, will be producing a podcast version of my story "In the Stacks," from last year's
Swords & Dark Magic.
I don't yet know when it will be appearing, but as soon as I have a firm date, so shall you.
In other news... anxiety. Yeah, I has it. Am I posting as much or as frequently as I had hoped? Not quite yet. Am I at least doing better than the last time I tried to come out of my shell? Hell yes. After WisCon, I enjoyed lengthy anxiety and depression issues. In the wake of Fourth Street and CONvergence, I have had... no unusual problems at all, really. Maybe there's something to practicing and staying in practice with this socialization thing? That thumping sound you hear is my therapist's head hitting his desk over and over again, by the way.
I don't yet know when it will be appearing, but as soon as I have a firm date, so shall you.
In other news... anxiety. Yeah, I has it. Am I posting as much or as frequently as I had hoped? Not quite yet. Am I at least doing better than the last time I tried to come out of my shell? Hell yes. After WisCon, I enjoyed lengthy anxiety and depression issues. In the wake of Fourth Street and CONvergence, I have had... no unusual problems at all, really. Maybe there's something to practicing and staying in practice with this socialization thing? That thumping sound you hear is my therapist's head hitting his desk over and over again, by the way.
A Real-Life Awesome McCoolName
Wow. Not only did the U.S. actually defeat the Thousand-Ton Atomic Titan of the Soccer Universe, but a crucial penalty kick save was made by the U.S. goalie, whose name is, I shit ye not, Hope Solo. Hope Solo. Most of us couldn't get away with naming a fictional character something so starkly awesome, yet here she is, flesh and blood.
Wikipedia says her middle name is Amelia (which is awesome), but it should actually be "MOTHERFUCKING." All caps.
Here she is saving the day:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=4lK0o0FQG6c
Wikipedia says her middle name is Amelia (which is awesome), but it should actually be "MOTHERFUCKING." All caps.
Here she is saving the day:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=4lK0o0FQG6c
July 10, 2011
The Last of the Summer Benefit Auctions
All proceeds from this auction will benefit... me! In a roundabout fashion. They'll be donated to the New Richmond Fire Department, of which I have been a member since 2005.
The NRFD provides service to the communities of New Richmond, Star Prairie, Stanton, Alden, and Erin Prairie in St. Croix County, Wisconsin. We also provide support to neighboring departments and to county-wide disaster responses.
The NRFD handles structural fires, wildland fires, hazardous chemical releases, motor vehicle accidents, land and water rescue, missing persons searches, and nearly any other mess or emergency you can conceive of. In an ideal world we'd have all the money we needed to buy whatever we require, but alas, this isn't that world. We've been stepping up our fundraising efforts in the past year or two as grants and city revenues have grown a bit thinner.
Proceeds from this auction will be placed in a fund administered and controlled by the department's firefighters, so we can vote its use for things like urgent equipment replacement or training updates.
This is the very last lot of international editions from my private collection that I'll make available in 2011! You can see it here:
http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=270780052745
This time around, we've got:
The Korean edition (in two volumes) of THE LIES OF LOCKE LAMORA from Ithaca (softcover);
The Bulgarian edition of RED SEAS UNDER RED SKIES from Riva (softcover); and
The Serbian edition of THE LIES OF LOCKE LAMORA from Laguna (softcover)
As with the previous lots, I will throw in a Benjamin Carre print and commemorative bookmark, and sign everything six ways from Sunday as directed by the auction winner.
The NRFD provides service to the communities of New Richmond, Star Prairie, Stanton, Alden, and Erin Prairie in St. Croix County, Wisconsin. We also provide support to neighboring departments and to county-wide disaster responses.
The NRFD handles structural fires, wildland fires, hazardous chemical releases, motor vehicle accidents, land and water rescue, missing persons searches, and nearly any other mess or emergency you can conceive of. In an ideal world we'd have all the money we needed to buy whatever we require, but alas, this isn't that world. We've been stepping up our fundraising efforts in the past year or two as grants and city revenues have grown a bit thinner.
Proceeds from this auction will be placed in a fund administered and controlled by the department's firefighters, so we can vote its use for things like urgent equipment replacement or training updates.
This is the very last lot of international editions from my private collection that I'll make available in 2011! You can see it here:
http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=270780052745
This time around, we've got:
The Korean edition (in two volumes) of THE LIES OF LOCKE LAMORA from Ithaca (softcover);
The Bulgarian edition of RED SEAS UNDER RED SKIES from Riva (softcover); and
The Serbian edition of THE LIES OF LOCKE LAMORA from Laguna (softcover)
As with the previous lots, I will throw in a Benjamin Carre print and commemorative bookmark, and sign everything six ways from Sunday as directed by the auction winner.
July 4, 2011
Joel Rosenberg Family Benefit Auction
On June 2, Minnesota author Joel Rosenberg passed away after a sudden, unexpected respiratory episode and consequent heart attack. I did not know him personally, but he was a friend of many friends and you can well imagine the heartache and the bind this leaves his family in.
I have put up a third auction lot of cool international editions of my work. This lot contains:
The German edition of THE LIES OF LOCKE LAMORA from Heyne (softcover);
The French edition of RED SEAS UNDER RED SKIES from Bragelonne (softcover); and
The Italian edition of THE LIES OF LOCKE LAMORA from Editrice Nord (hardcover)
As with the previous lots, I will throw in a Benjamin Carre print and commemorative bookmark, and sign everything six ways from Sunday as directed by the auction winner.
All proceeds from this auction will be donated to the Rosenberg family (I will use whichever of the methods given on![[info]](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/hostedimages/1380451687i/2040817.gif)
jr_fgh
turns out to be most expedient).
For more information on Joel's death and the ongoing family support efforts, see:
http://jr-fgh.livejournal.com/
http://freejoel.ellegon.com/2011/06/03/joel-rosenberg-husband-father-mensch/
I have put up a third auction lot of cool international editions of my work. This lot contains:
The German edition of THE LIES OF LOCKE LAMORA from Heyne (softcover);
The French edition of RED SEAS UNDER RED SKIES from Bragelonne (softcover); and
The Italian edition of THE LIES OF LOCKE LAMORA from Editrice Nord (hardcover)
As with the previous lots, I will throw in a Benjamin Carre print and commemorative bookmark, and sign everything six ways from Sunday as directed by the auction winner.
All proceeds from this auction will be donated to the Rosenberg family (I will use whichever of the methods given on
jr_fgh
turns out to be most expedient).For more information on Joel's death and the ongoing family support efforts, see:
http://jr-fgh.livejournal.com/
http://freejoel.ellegon.com/2011/06/03/joel-rosenberg-husband-father-mensch/
July 2, 2011
Planned Parenthood Benefit Auction: Lots o' My Books
I wish I could say that I was surprised that last year's fresh crop of far right-wing whackaloons, allegedly elected to state and federal positions to stir the economy and create jobs, has instead spent a disproportionate amount of its time going utterly hog-wild against womens' health and reproductive rights.
Planned Parenthood is under siege from maniacs in more than one state; hypocritical lunatics who don't seem to grasp that it offers a broad slate of essential health and life-saving services including STD testing/treatment, cancer screening and preventive treatment, and contraceptive services. Planned Parenthood is already prohibited from spending any of its federal funding directly on abortion services, but that's just not good enough for the lunatics, because it's not really about the "sanctity of life" for them (if it were, they'd show decidedly more interest in the health and safety of those precious little life forms once they leave the womb)-- it's about leveraging all the powers of the state they can possibly get their hands on to control women and intrude on the most private aspects of their lives.
Well, an author not hamstrung by anxiety issues might be able to do some good to fight back against this bullshit... so it's time to try being that guy. This here is an experiment, kids. I am offering several lots of my books on eBay, in a series of charity auctions. 100% of the proceeds from these auctions will be donated to The Planned Parenthood Federation of America.
These lots are made up of international editions of my work, taken from my private collection. These books are extremely rare in North America and the UK in particular, and this might be your easiest chance to snag a few. Certainly, it'll be your cheapest and perhaps only chance to snag a few and have them signed to order by me.
Here's what such a lot looks like:
The Spanish edition of THE LIES OF LOCKE LAMORA from Alianza Editorial (softcover);
The Swedish edition of RED SEAS UNDER RED SKIES from Bonnier Carlson (hardcover); and
The Italian edition of RED SEAS UNDER RED SKIES from Editrice Nord (hardcover)
The Bulgarian edition of THE LIES OF LOCKE LAMORA from Riva (softcover);
The Norwegian Edition of THE LIES OF LOCKE LAMORA from Cappelen Damm (hardcover); and
The Dutch edition of RED SEAS UNDER RED SKIES from Mynx (hardcover, wrapped)
As a bonus with each lot, I will throw in a very nice commemorative print of a variant TLOLL cover by genius Bragelonne artist Benjamin Carre. I received a small supply of these in France in 2007 and if you're looking for a worthwhile Gentleman Bastard souvenir guaranteed to be scarce across the world, this would be it. You'll also get a commemorative bookmark from the same event.
These two lots are the first of several charity auctions I mean to list this weekend. Please note that the very dorkily named "wisconsinscottlynch" is the one and only real me on eBay.
Planned Parenthood is under siege from maniacs in more than one state; hypocritical lunatics who don't seem to grasp that it offers a broad slate of essential health and life-saving services including STD testing/treatment, cancer screening and preventive treatment, and contraceptive services. Planned Parenthood is already prohibited from spending any of its federal funding directly on abortion services, but that's just not good enough for the lunatics, because it's not really about the "sanctity of life" for them (if it were, they'd show decidedly more interest in the health and safety of those precious little life forms once they leave the womb)-- it's about leveraging all the powers of the state they can possibly get their hands on to control women and intrude on the most private aspects of their lives.
Well, an author not hamstrung by anxiety issues might be able to do some good to fight back against this bullshit... so it's time to try being that guy. This here is an experiment, kids. I am offering several lots of my books on eBay, in a series of charity auctions. 100% of the proceeds from these auctions will be donated to The Planned Parenthood Federation of America.
These lots are made up of international editions of my work, taken from my private collection. These books are extremely rare in North America and the UK in particular, and this might be your easiest chance to snag a few. Certainly, it'll be your cheapest and perhaps only chance to snag a few and have them signed to order by me.
Here's what such a lot looks like:
The Spanish edition of THE LIES OF LOCKE LAMORA from Alianza Editorial (softcover);
The Swedish edition of RED SEAS UNDER RED SKIES from Bonnier Carlson (hardcover); and
The Italian edition of RED SEAS UNDER RED SKIES from Editrice Nord (hardcover)
The Bulgarian edition of THE LIES OF LOCKE LAMORA from Riva (softcover);
The Norwegian Edition of THE LIES OF LOCKE LAMORA from Cappelen Damm (hardcover); and
The Dutch edition of RED SEAS UNDER RED SKIES from Mynx (hardcover, wrapped)
As a bonus with each lot, I will throw in a very nice commemorative print of a variant TLOLL cover by genius Bragelonne artist Benjamin Carre. I received a small supply of these in France in 2007 and if you're looking for a worthwhile Gentleman Bastard souvenir guaranteed to be scarce across the world, this would be it. You'll also get a commemorative bookmark from the same event.
These two lots are the first of several charity auctions I mean to list this weekend. Please note that the very dorkily named "wisconsinscottlynch" is the one and only real me on eBay.
Stably Socializing (Knock on Wood)
So, last weekend I was at Fourth Street Fantasy Con, braced for an anxiety breakdown like the one I enjoyed in the wake of Wiscon. Except a curious thing happened... I didn't have one. In fact, I had an amazing time. Was it the smaller nature of the con? Did Wiscon acclimate me to being out in public again? Did I discover the proper balance between booze/not booze in my circulatory system? I dunno. But I'm going back next year for sure.
Fourth Street bills itself as "conversation" rather than "convention," and I can admit that before attending I thought this was a bit of an affectation. It just ain't so, though... Fourth Street is a place where blather about art/craft/lore/love really is the Alpha and the Omega. It's an intimate con (about 80 people this year, though there's room for quite a few more) with one track of panels, interspersed with generous breaks and lengthy mealtimes to keep people from going stir-crazy. The consuite was Minnesota Nice in a non-ironic sense and the company was pretty much entirely lovely.
I saw![[info]](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/hostedimages/1380451598i/2033940.gif)
mrissa
, met
alecaustin
,
timprov
,
brooksmoses
, and
sartorias
, among others I'm sure I'm forgetting. I met Steve Brust, DD-B, Will Shetterly, and (fulfilling a fifteen-year-old fannish squeecrush) the field's most notorious diplomat/heartthrob,
coffeeem
, for the first time. I also got to check in with
mmerriam
and
careswen
, swap lots of stories with
matociquala
, and see
cloudscudding
, who was furiously scribbling away despite the fact that she seems really, really ready to have the baby any time now. I also think I scared Lois Bujold when I told her how many times I've read A Civil Campaign.
Anyhow, TLDR version: It was incredible and would have been worth even a very, very bad depressive crash afterward. This weekend, I'm finally off to Convergence for a bit-- should be there mid-afternoon Saturday.
Fourth Street bills itself as "conversation" rather than "convention," and I can admit that before attending I thought this was a bit of an affectation. It just ain't so, though... Fourth Street is a place where blather about art/craft/lore/love really is the Alpha and the Omega. It's an intimate con (about 80 people this year, though there's room for quite a few more) with one track of panels, interspersed with generous breaks and lengthy mealtimes to keep people from going stir-crazy. The consuite was Minnesota Nice in a non-ironic sense and the company was pretty much entirely lovely.
I saw
mrissa
, met
alecaustin
,
timprov
,
brooksmoses
, and
sartorias
, among others I'm sure I'm forgetting. I met Steve Brust, DD-B, Will Shetterly, and (fulfilling a fifteen-year-old fannish squeecrush) the field's most notorious diplomat/heartthrob,
coffeeem
, for the first time. I also got to check in with
mmerriam
and
careswen
, swap lots of stories with
matociquala
, and see
cloudscudding
, who was furiously scribbling away despite the fact that she seems really, really ready to have the baby any time now. I also think I scared Lois Bujold when I told her how many times I've read A Civil Campaign. Anyhow, TLDR version: It was incredible and would have been worth even a very, very bad depressive crash afterward. This weekend, I'm finally off to Convergence for a bit-- should be there mid-afternoon Saturday.
