Ruthanna Emrys's Blog, page 5
October 21, 2015
It's a book!
Winter Tide, the first Aphra Marsh novel, will come out from the Tor.com imprint in early 2017. The sequel, which has a working title of Deep Roots, will follow a year later.
I'm beyond excited and amazed to finally be able to make this announcement. And I'm very grateful to my agent, Cameron McClure of the Donald Maass Agency, and to my editor Carl Engle-Laird, for making this happen. We all look forward to sharing the next part of Aphra's story.
I'm beyond excited and amazed to finally be able to make this announcement. And I'm very grateful to my agent, Cameron McClure of the Donald Maass Agency, and to my editor Carl Engle-Laird, for making this happen. We all look forward to sharing the next part of Aphra's story.
September 13, 2015
Hugo Long List anthology kickstarter, plus bonus sonnet
David Steffen, of Diabolical Plots, is kickstarting an anthology of the 2014 Hugo long list. It's already funded at the basic level, covering the short stories, and is a couple hundred away from including the novelettes--including "Litany of Earth" as well as awesome things like Alaya Dawn Johnson's "A Guide to the Fruits of Hawai'i."
In the service of creating a proper Hugo Reading Packet for 2014, I'm offering 3 custom sonnets or sestinas for $50 backers, each coming with both paper and e-versions of the anthology. At the same level, you could instead get one of Sam Miller's sketches of an animal of your choice working at the occupation of your choice, or you could pay a little more and get story critiques, custom audio books, and spiffy art prints.
David asked me for a reward description.
Not Exactly Shakespeare
It isn’t Shakespeare: I’ll admit as much;
They’re what I write when I’m not up for prose.
The forms of old are comfort food that shows
The tired writer hasn’t lost her touch.
But though these poems are nothing like the sun,
They might give hazy thoughts a form and shape,
Or make you laugh: give sharpness to a jape;
All poems have purpose, else they lie unspun.
I could compare your love to summer nights,
Abstract your dissertation so it scans,
Or villainous, declaim your cunning plans:
I’ll write an ode to whatever delights.
Still, I reserve the right to add my spin,
So trolls beware: the bard will always win.
In the service of creating a proper Hugo Reading Packet for 2014, I'm offering 3 custom sonnets or sestinas for $50 backers, each coming with both paper and e-versions of the anthology. At the same level, you could instead get one of Sam Miller's sketches of an animal of your choice working at the occupation of your choice, or you could pay a little more and get story critiques, custom audio books, and spiffy art prints.
David asked me for a reward description.
Not Exactly Shakespeare
It isn’t Shakespeare: I’ll admit as much;
They’re what I write when I’m not up for prose.
The forms of old are comfort food that shows
The tired writer hasn’t lost her touch.
But though these poems are nothing like the sun,
They might give hazy thoughts a form and shape,
Or make you laugh: give sharpness to a jape;
All poems have purpose, else they lie unspun.
I could compare your love to summer nights,
Abstract your dissertation so it scans,
Or villainous, declaim your cunning plans:
I’ll write an ode to whatever delights.
Still, I reserve the right to add my spin,
So trolls beware: the bard will always win.
August 25, 2015
It's an Honor Just to Not Be Nominated
M woke up crying at 6 AM Sunday morning. After I finally got her back to sleep, I checked my phone and discovered rather more Twitter mentions than usually appear in the midnight to 6 AM window, or indeed in a single day. I had some trouble getting back to sleep!
Many thanks to everyone who nominated "Litany of Earth" for a Hugo, and everyone else who said they would have voted for it given the opportunity. It would have been part of a pretty sweet ballot, and I would have thoroughly enjoyed losing to Seanan McGuire's "Each to Each" or Kay Ashante Wilson's "The Devil in America." (I still need to read Crosshill's story, and shall.)
New plan: Support E Pluribus Hugo, and write even more kick-ass, rocket-worthy stuff in the future.
Many thanks to everyone who nominated "Litany of Earth" for a Hugo, and everyone else who said they would have voted for it given the opportunity. It would have been part of a pretty sweet ballot, and I would have thoroughly enjoyed losing to Seanan McGuire's "Each to Each" or Kay Ashante Wilson's "The Devil in America." (I still need to read Crosshill's story, and shall.)
New plan: Support E Pluribus Hugo, and write even more kick-ass, rocket-worthy stuff in the future.
June 27, 2015
Yesterday
...was a very strange, very good day. We're legal. Oh my god, we're legal.
We can visit relatives in Michigan, friends in Louisiana, and not worry about what happens if one of us gets sick. We can confidently drive our daughter through any state in the union. And people are getting married who've been waiting for decades in Texas, in Georgia, in Arkansas... and that 82-year-old couple in Atlanta can finish growing old together and know that they'll be able to take care of each other with the state's help rather than obstruction.
What's weirder is that ten years ago we were a boogyman that the bad guys could reliably use to scare out their voters, and the 'good guys' didn't dare speak well of aloud. And yesterday people were literally dancing in the streets around the country, lighting up the Empire State Building--the president gave a speech about how awesome our marriage is--newspapers around the country printed updated maps of where same-sex marriage is now legal and the New York Times covered the page above the fold with same-sex couples kissing.
There's still so much left to do. There's always more work to do--but it's so rare to win a battle that we should celebrate when we have the chance. And it's not unpleasant, but extremely startling, to have most of the country celebrating with us.
We can visit relatives in Michigan, friends in Louisiana, and not worry about what happens if one of us gets sick. We can confidently drive our daughter through any state in the union. And people are getting married who've been waiting for decades in Texas, in Georgia, in Arkansas... and that 82-year-old couple in Atlanta can finish growing old together and know that they'll be able to take care of each other with the state's help rather than obstruction.
What's weirder is that ten years ago we were a boogyman that the bad guys could reliably use to scare out their voters, and the 'good guys' didn't dare speak well of aloud. And yesterday people were literally dancing in the streets around the country, lighting up the Empire State Building--the president gave a speech about how awesome our marriage is--newspapers around the country printed updated maps of where same-sex marriage is now legal and the New York Times covered the page above the fold with same-sex couples kissing.
There's still so much left to do. There's always more work to do--but it's so rare to win a battle that we should celebrate when we have the chance. And it's not unpleasant, but extremely startling, to have most of the country celebrating with us.
June 24, 2015
The Deepest Rift, Maps, and Detours
"The Deepest Rift," my science fiction story about exploring alien worlds, translation error, and the perils of academia, went up this afternoon at Tor.com.
This story comes with a story, and a giveaway. Way back in 2010, it was Saturday and I was at Wiscon. If you go to the Journeyman Writer's meeting, you miss the lunch break, and I hadn't yet learned the "send your spouse for sandwiches" trick. So I snuck in late to "The Story in the Object, The Object in the Story," and hid out in the back of the room trying not to make my crumbs obvious while
elisem
, Catherine Crowe, and Kat Byer talked about similarities between art forms, the way we use art to create relationships as well as make (or fail to make) a living, and the importance of sometimes giving things away. Elise passed around an amazing tektite, and Catherine showed off beautiful copper bowls.
Towards the end, Elise was talking to Ellen Klages (in the audience) and told her that she knew what to do with that project they'd been working on. She asked for six volunteers. I'm not an idiot: I raised my hand. She then told us that a couple of years previously, they'd done a collaboration: Ellen found stones, Elise made pendants of them, and Ellen named them. We'd each get a random pendant, to be picked up later in the con, and make something else with it or based on it--and then pass it on again.
For those of you who don't know Elise's work, she's a professional muse. Go click through onto her LJ--her sticky post shows everything she's currently got available. Every item has a title. Many have stories hidden in them, or poems, or major life changes.
When I went down to the dealer's room later, she asked me for a number between eggplant and lettuce. I told her "zucchini," and she gave me this:
I could see right away the sides of the unimaginably deep canyon, the forests down in the dark, the wind that swept up over it carrying strangeness from the mist below. But it was not only story, but also oracle: at the time I was just starting to feel my way towards leaving academia, and routes and detours and the question of whether it was even possible to get to Point Q from where I stood were very much on my mind.
I started writing almost immediately, but stalled out for a couple of years when I solved my real-life dilemma before finishing the story that I was using to map it. (This was a good problem to have.) Last year I finally figured out what was missing, sent the story out to Carl at Tor.com, and here we are. And so now I'm finally done with the pendant, and I will miss it but it needs to find a new home where it can keep doing its job.
If you feel you could make use of a map with detours, please leave the following in the comments before 6 PM EST on Monday, June 29th:
- A brief, true explanation of what you'll make with it. The explanation doesn't need to be complete--"My story needs plot bunnies" or "trying to make a path through a crisis" are as good as "I'm on a quest to find the holy grail, the latest clues lead me to believe it's in the grand canyon, and this looks like something that will help me find my way."
- A promise that you'll pass it on when you're done with it, to someone who will keep the same terms. This doesn't need to be quick; I've had it for five years, after all.
- A way to contact you if you aren't posting with an LJ handle.
On Monday, I'll pick a name via random number generator, because I am not myself an oracle, and will contact the winner for mailing information.
Disclaimers: Mailing times dependent on the vagaries of baby and DC snail mail system. Not responsible for lost, misdirected, or temporally displaced merchandise. Device may not operate as intended. Effects may not be synchronous.
This story comes with a story, and a giveaway. Way back in 2010, it was Saturday and I was at Wiscon. If you go to the Journeyman Writer's meeting, you miss the lunch break, and I hadn't yet learned the "send your spouse for sandwiches" trick. So I snuck in late to "The Story in the Object, The Object in the Story," and hid out in the back of the room trying not to make my crumbs obvious while
elisem
, Catherine Crowe, and Kat Byer talked about similarities between art forms, the way we use art to create relationships as well as make (or fail to make) a living, and the importance of sometimes giving things away. Elise passed around an amazing tektite, and Catherine showed off beautiful copper bowls.Towards the end, Elise was talking to Ellen Klages (in the audience) and told her that she knew what to do with that project they'd been working on. She asked for six volunteers. I'm not an idiot: I raised my hand. She then told us that a couple of years previously, they'd done a collaboration: Ellen found stones, Elise made pendants of them, and Ellen named them. We'd each get a random pendant, to be picked up later in the con, and make something else with it or based on it--and then pass it on again.
For those of you who don't know Elise's work, she's a professional muse. Go click through onto her LJ--her sticky post shows everything she's currently got available. Every item has a title. Many have stories hidden in them, or poems, or major life changes.
When I went down to the dealer's room later, she asked me for a number between eggplant and lettuce. I told her "zucchini," and she gave me this:
I could see right away the sides of the unimaginably deep canyon, the forests down in the dark, the wind that swept up over it carrying strangeness from the mist below. But it was not only story, but also oracle: at the time I was just starting to feel my way towards leaving academia, and routes and detours and the question of whether it was even possible to get to Point Q from where I stood were very much on my mind.
I started writing almost immediately, but stalled out for a couple of years when I solved my real-life dilemma before finishing the story that I was using to map it. (This was a good problem to have.) Last year I finally figured out what was missing, sent the story out to Carl at Tor.com, and here we are. And so now I'm finally done with the pendant, and I will miss it but it needs to find a new home where it can keep doing its job.
If you feel you could make use of a map with detours, please leave the following in the comments before 6 PM EST on Monday, June 29th:
- A brief, true explanation of what you'll make with it. The explanation doesn't need to be complete--"My story needs plot bunnies" or "trying to make a path through a crisis" are as good as "I'm on a quest to find the holy grail, the latest clues lead me to believe it's in the grand canyon, and this looks like something that will help me find my way."
- A promise that you'll pass it on when you're done with it, to someone who will keep the same terms. This doesn't need to be quick; I've had it for five years, after all.
- A way to contact you if you aren't posting with an LJ handle.
On Monday, I'll pick a name via random number generator, because I am not myself an oracle, and will contact the winner for mailing information.
Disclaimers: Mailing times dependent on the vagaries of baby and DC snail mail system. Not responsible for lost, misdirected, or temporally displaced merchandise. Device may not operate as intended. Effects may not be synchronous.
April 21, 2015
The Surviving Fragments of the Dread Pnakotic Manuscripts
I'm delighted to announce that I'll have an original story in The Mammoth Book of Cthulhu: New Lovecraftian Fiction, which will be coming out in June 2016 in the US and April 2016 in the UK.
No Deep Ones in this story, but it does consider carefully the proper Library of Congress heading for forbidden tomes.
I'll be in excellent company:
THE MAMMOTH BOOK OF CTHULHU: NEW LOVECRAFTIAN FICTION
Paula Guran, Editor
CONTENTS
• Laird Barron - “A Clutch”
• Nadia Bulkin - “I Believe That We Will Win”
• Amanda Downum - “The Sea Inside”
• Ruthanna Emrys - “Those Who Watch”
• Richard Gavin - “Deep Eden”
• Lois H. Gresh - “In the Sacred Cave”
• Lisa L. Hannett - “In Syllables of Elder Seas”
• Brian Hodge - “It’s All the Same Road In the End”
• Caitlín R. Kiernan - “The Peddler’s Tale, or, Isobel’s Revenge”
• John Langan – “Outside the House, Watching for the Crows
• Yoon Ha Lee - “Falcon-and-Sparrows”
• Usman T. Malik - “In the Ruins of Mohenjo-Daro”
• Sandra McDonald - “The Cthulhu Navy Wife”
• Helen Marshall - “Caro in Carno”
• Silvia Moreno - Garcia - “Legacy of Salt”
• Norman Partridge - “Backbite”
• W. H. Pugmire - “A Shadow of Thine Own Design”
• Veronica Schanoes - “Variations on Lovecraftian Themes”
• Michael Shea - “An Open Letter to Mr. Edgar Allan Poe, from a Fervent Admirer”
• John Shirley - “Just Beyond the Trailer Park”
• Simon Strantzas - “Alexandra Lost”
• Damien Angelica Walters - “Umbilicus”
• Don Webb - “The Future Eats Everything”
• Michael Wehunt - “I Do Not Count the Hours”
• A.C. Wise - “I Dress My Lover in Yellow”
No Deep Ones in this story, but it does consider carefully the proper Library of Congress heading for forbidden tomes.
I'll be in excellent company:
THE MAMMOTH BOOK OF CTHULHU: NEW LOVECRAFTIAN FICTION
Paula Guran, Editor
CONTENTS
• Laird Barron - “A Clutch”
• Nadia Bulkin - “I Believe That We Will Win”
• Amanda Downum - “The Sea Inside”
• Ruthanna Emrys - “Those Who Watch”
• Richard Gavin - “Deep Eden”
• Lois H. Gresh - “In the Sacred Cave”
• Lisa L. Hannett - “In Syllables of Elder Seas”
• Brian Hodge - “It’s All the Same Road In the End”
• Caitlín R. Kiernan - “The Peddler’s Tale, or, Isobel’s Revenge”
• John Langan – “Outside the House, Watching for the Crows
• Yoon Ha Lee - “Falcon-and-Sparrows”
• Usman T. Malik - “In the Ruins of Mohenjo-Daro”
• Sandra McDonald - “The Cthulhu Navy Wife”
• Helen Marshall - “Caro in Carno”
• Silvia Moreno - Garcia - “Legacy of Salt”
• Norman Partridge - “Backbite”
• W. H. Pugmire - “A Shadow of Thine Own Design”
• Veronica Schanoes - “Variations on Lovecraftian Themes”
• Michael Shea - “An Open Letter to Mr. Edgar Allan Poe, from a Fervent Admirer”
• John Shirley - “Just Beyond the Trailer Park”
• Simon Strantzas - “Alexandra Lost”
• Damien Angelica Walters - “Umbilicus”
• Don Webb - “The Future Eats Everything”
• Michael Wehunt - “I Do Not Count the Hours”
• A.C. Wise - “I Dress My Lover in Yellow”
April 6, 2015
In other news
New Cthulhu 2, which reprints "The Litany of Earth" and many other fine stories, is out. B read the cover upside down across the table, and asked me, "Why does it say 'more percent weird'?" And I had to admit that while it did not, in fact, say that, it would have been an appropriate and delightful description. (He got the rest of it right--pretty good for a 6-year-old reading upside down.)
Hugos: Resilience and Anarchic Resistance
What Bear said.
And while it's a bit less impressive coming from me, I'll make the same pledge: I have not in the past and I will not in the future participate in any popular award voting slate, public or private. I will not vote for any story or person or institution that is nominated for a popular award after agreeing to be on such a slate. Actually, I won't vote for any story or person or institution that is nominated from a slate, whether or not they wanted to be there--I believe that slates are more toxic than one person failing to get an award they deserve, even though the latter sucks quite a bit.
I believe without reservation that fandom is better off without any party system other than the one that results in late-night snacks and drinks and good conversation. There's no law that can prevent one from developing if people are determined to game the system; there are, however, customs that can make them useless.
Also, to repeat what I said earlier on Twitter:
You don't need to read anything that likely includes abuse towards you in order ot have the "right" to vote. You don't need to read anything that insults you or hits your triggers--you get to dislike that stuff without "giving it a chance." Hell, if you've never liked urban fantasy and one's on the ballot, you don't have to read it to vote. You're allowed to know your own tastes.
What I didn't say on Twitter: I've got a friend who's just getting out of an abusive relationship. Insignificant Other keeps whining about how if my friend were being fair, they'd let him prove himself without taking his earlier actions into consideration. Because trust. Because rules. Because if they aren't "fair" according to his exact definition, he knows he can't win.
People who don't play fair don't get to define fairness, and don't get to demand anyone's time or headspace. If you want to take the time to give VD a full read, feel free, but don't let anyone tell you it's your duty.
Personally, I'm currently filling my must-read pile than I can actually read it. My entire "reading bigots" quota is given over to Lovecraft blogging. Lovecraft has many advantages in this domain: 1) his work is entertaining more often than it's upsetting, 2) he's dead, 3) for all his unchained adjectives, he writes better or at least more amusingly than most modern bigots, 4) by all accounts he was actually pretty polite to the people he was prejudiced against when actually talking to them, 5) he never tried to game any damn awards, 6) he never claimed that he had a right to reader's time and attention, 7) he's in the public domain and I can get awesome story ideas out of reading him.
In a hundred years, I hope the puppies are a nearly-forgotten footnote, the Hugos are strong and healthy, and whoever's doing the Hugo Reread braincast gets some really entertaining snark out of this whole business.
And while it's a bit less impressive coming from me, I'll make the same pledge: I have not in the past and I will not in the future participate in any popular award voting slate, public or private. I will not vote for any story or person or institution that is nominated for a popular award after agreeing to be on such a slate. Actually, I won't vote for any story or person or institution that is nominated from a slate, whether or not they wanted to be there--I believe that slates are more toxic than one person failing to get an award they deserve, even though the latter sucks quite a bit.
I believe without reservation that fandom is better off without any party system other than the one that results in late-night snacks and drinks and good conversation. There's no law that can prevent one from developing if people are determined to game the system; there are, however, customs that can make them useless.
Also, to repeat what I said earlier on Twitter:
You don't need to read anything that likely includes abuse towards you in order ot have the "right" to vote. You don't need to read anything that insults you or hits your triggers--you get to dislike that stuff without "giving it a chance." Hell, if you've never liked urban fantasy and one's on the ballot, you don't have to read it to vote. You're allowed to know your own tastes.
What I didn't say on Twitter: I've got a friend who's just getting out of an abusive relationship. Insignificant Other keeps whining about how if my friend were being fair, they'd let him prove himself without taking his earlier actions into consideration. Because trust. Because rules. Because if they aren't "fair" according to his exact definition, he knows he can't win.
People who don't play fair don't get to define fairness, and don't get to demand anyone's time or headspace. If you want to take the time to give VD a full read, feel free, but don't let anyone tell you it's your duty.
Personally, I'm currently filling my must-read pile than I can actually read it. My entire "reading bigots" quota is given over to Lovecraft blogging. Lovecraft has many advantages in this domain: 1) his work is entertaining more often than it's upsetting, 2) he's dead, 3) for all his unchained adjectives, he writes better or at least more amusingly than most modern bigots, 4) by all accounts he was actually pretty polite to the people he was prejudiced against when actually talking to them, 5) he never tried to game any damn awards, 6) he never claimed that he had a right to reader's time and attention, 7) he's in the public domain and I can get awesome story ideas out of reading him.
In a hundred years, I hope the puppies are a nearly-forgotten footnote, the Hugos are strong and healthy, and whoever's doing the Hugo Reread braincast gets some really entertaining snark out of this whole business.
March 4, 2015
Everything is signed and sent and...
I'm delighted to announce that I, and Winter Tide, and any other books I manage to turn out, are now represented by Cameron McClure of the Donald Maass Literary Agency.
February 1, 2015
Awards Eligibility & Bonus Recommendations for 2014
In early January, Amal El-Mohtar reposted an excellent rant about eligibility lists, why they're important, and why authors shouldn't be embarrassed to post them. And I thought, "Well, that makes sense. I should do that thing." But I had a 2-week-old baby and a new writing deadline, and so "eligibility post, no really," has been on my to-do list for nearly a month.
And, but, so. I'm going to do some of the dithering El-Mohtar talks about, because most of the reasons in her rant don't so much actually apply to me. My stories this year have gotten plenty of attention (some of which I'll mention below, because this is my living room and I get to boast here occasionally). I'm also not ashamed to admit that I think they're pretty good, not that my opinion is particularly the one that matters.
I also don't think eligibility posts get anyone to change their minds about how good works were--I think they 1) remind people what came out in a given year, and by process of elimination what didn't, and 2) remind people what category works fall into. As someone with a lousy memory and an iffy feel for word count, I appreciate this, and consider it a useful service when other people provide it.
What I published:
The Litany of Earth, a novelette, came out in May. It's made Best of 2014 lists from Sabrina Vourvoulias, Charlotte Ashley at Apex Magazine, Aliette de Bodard, and Cecily Kane. It's on the recommended reading lists for Tangent Online--and just this morning, the Locus Recommended Reading List. Patrick Nielsen Hayden called it out in the first comment to his own eligibility list.
Seven Commentaries on an Imperfect Land, a short story, came out in August. Cat Faber filked it. It was recommended in Tangent Online along with Litany, and Cecily Kane not only mentions it on her best-of list but seems to have been running a one-women Seven Commentaries Awareness Program. She featured it, along with Alex Dally MacFarlane's Because I Prayed This Word, in an online discussion inaugurating the #ShortSFF tag on Twitter.
What I liked:
My own recommendations are where I get a bit whiffly and apologetic. I got through my dissertation without complaining about a lack of fiction reading time, but last year managed to turn my normal reading habits upside down. I did not read widely--let alone watch widely--in 2014. Much of my reading was either very long--you can bring a hard copy novel into a hospital and not worry about running out of charge--or short enough to fit into brief moments of leisure. There are entire award categories in which I did little or no reading, and two shelves of last year's novels and anthologies that I am extremely unlikely to get through before the Nebula nomination deadline and probably the Hugo deadline too.
I am, it turns out, female-socialized enough to feel guilty that amid writing a novel, holding down a demanding day job, seeing my wife through a difficult pregnancy, taking on a good portion of her seneschal duties for the household, co-parenting a 2-year-old and a 6-year-old, and parenting a newborn, my novella reading was kind of sparse.
All that said:
Novels: I loved Jo Walton's My Real Children, which does things with alternate history that I've never seen anywhere else, and which also fits into the all-too-rare sub-genre of domestic science fiction. Ann Leckie's Ancilary Sword was even better than Ancilary Justice--the worldbuilding continues extremely shiny, while the protagonist has let down her shields enough to feel much more approachable and sympathetic, and the plot focuses on multi-scale nested politics rather than a quest for revenge. Katherine Addison's The Goblin Emperor is full of crunchy politics, with a smart protagonist scrambling to keep on top of them and do the right thing in spite of it all. It is not the least bit grimdark, and it has steampunk bridges and court intrigue and successful political marriages and competent people doing their best. Max Gladstone's Full Fathom Five is the latest stand-alone entry in the awesome Craft Sequence, and possibly my favorite so far. I get extremely flaily when trying to talk about this series, and usually just end up saying, "Necromantic lawyers!" because if you find that appealing you'll probably like them. But Gladstone does the best combination of shiny worldbuilding and deep-yet-unobtrusive thematic work I've ever seen, so the whole thing is also an ongoing exploration of the costs and benefits of capitalism and of loyalty to sacred things... via undead CEOs who literally kill gods to gain immortality, and then struggle (sometimes successfully) to take over the functions that those gods have been carrying out for millennia.
Flaily, like I said.
I just finished Stranger, Sherwood Smith and Rachel Mangia Brown's new YA--not one I've seen on a lot of slates, but definitely deserving. It's a Steampunk western in a far-post-apocalyptic LA--the doubtful-but-fun sort of apocalypse that breaks modern technology and possibly replaces some of it with magic. LA has kept its current diversity but long ago lost much of its current population, so you get the rich syncretic mixture of cultures distilled down to small town size, and also mutant powers and teleporting squirrels and worrisomely intelligent trees.
Short stories: I'm very grateful to Cecily Kane for introducing me to Because I Prayed This Word, a portal fantasy response to Christine de Pizan's Book of the City of Ladies, with Sappho and medieval nuns and buildings made of poetry. Ursula Vernon's Toad Words is a wonderfully sensible story about how to handle the curse that causes frogs to come out of your mouth when you talk--it's an awesome story in it's own right, but particularly meant a lot to me when our 2-year-old (whose favorite thing is frogs) had just started treatment for a speech delay. (She's up to age level now! Spring peepers all over the place!) I was also particularly fond of Charlie Jane Anders's As Good as New, Seanan McGuire's Each to Each, Max Gladstone's A Kiss With Teeth, and Xia Jia's Spring Festival: Happiness, Anger, Love, Sorrow, Joy.
Best Editor, short form: This almost goes back up under my own eligible stuff, but I want to point out that Carl Engle-Laird, my editor at Tor.com, does awesome work. Last year was his first for acquiring fiction there--he had 6 stories out, and several of the others have made several best-of lists as well. From the author's side of the editing experience, I can report that he gives book-quality feedback on his stories--the published version of Litany is significantly stronger than the version that he originally accepted--and that he cares deeply and enthusiastically about connecting stories with people who will love them.
Other things: Shadow Unit, my favorite not-a-tv-show ever, "aired" its final "episode" in 2014. My favorite story of the year was "Dark Leader," but following the Wheel of Time rule, WTF fans should probably nominate the final episode (Something's Gotta Eat T Rexes, technically a novelette) as a stand-in for the whole series. Also, IO9 reminds us that radio plays are eligible as dramatic presentations. Which means that I have to figure out what my favorite Welcome to Night Vale episode of the year was and whether it was long form (which it will be if it was Old Oak Doors) or short form (if it was any of the other episodes). Wait, I could nominate Old Oak Doors as best long form and another episode for short form. The sense of the room (consisting of my wife, sister, and non-verbal daughter) is that the short form nomination should go to Parade Day. No, wait again--Old Oak Doors turns out to be short form by 57 seconds. Okay, both episodes for short form, then.
And, but, so. I'm going to do some of the dithering El-Mohtar talks about, because most of the reasons in her rant don't so much actually apply to me. My stories this year have gotten plenty of attention (some of which I'll mention below, because this is my living room and I get to boast here occasionally). I'm also not ashamed to admit that I think they're pretty good, not that my opinion is particularly the one that matters.
I also don't think eligibility posts get anyone to change their minds about how good works were--I think they 1) remind people what came out in a given year, and by process of elimination what didn't, and 2) remind people what category works fall into. As someone with a lousy memory and an iffy feel for word count, I appreciate this, and consider it a useful service when other people provide it.
What I published:
The Litany of Earth, a novelette, came out in May. It's made Best of 2014 lists from Sabrina Vourvoulias, Charlotte Ashley at Apex Magazine, Aliette de Bodard, and Cecily Kane. It's on the recommended reading lists for Tangent Online--and just this morning, the Locus Recommended Reading List. Patrick Nielsen Hayden called it out in the first comment to his own eligibility list.
Seven Commentaries on an Imperfect Land, a short story, came out in August. Cat Faber filked it. It was recommended in Tangent Online along with Litany, and Cecily Kane not only mentions it on her best-of list but seems to have been running a one-women Seven Commentaries Awareness Program. She featured it, along with Alex Dally MacFarlane's Because I Prayed This Word, in an online discussion inaugurating the #ShortSFF tag on Twitter.
What I liked:
My own recommendations are where I get a bit whiffly and apologetic. I got through my dissertation without complaining about a lack of fiction reading time, but last year managed to turn my normal reading habits upside down. I did not read widely--let alone watch widely--in 2014. Much of my reading was either very long--you can bring a hard copy novel into a hospital and not worry about running out of charge--or short enough to fit into brief moments of leisure. There are entire award categories in which I did little or no reading, and two shelves of last year's novels and anthologies that I am extremely unlikely to get through before the Nebula nomination deadline and probably the Hugo deadline too.
I am, it turns out, female-socialized enough to feel guilty that amid writing a novel, holding down a demanding day job, seeing my wife through a difficult pregnancy, taking on a good portion of her seneschal duties for the household, co-parenting a 2-year-old and a 6-year-old, and parenting a newborn, my novella reading was kind of sparse.
All that said:
Novels: I loved Jo Walton's My Real Children, which does things with alternate history that I've never seen anywhere else, and which also fits into the all-too-rare sub-genre of domestic science fiction. Ann Leckie's Ancilary Sword was even better than Ancilary Justice--the worldbuilding continues extremely shiny, while the protagonist has let down her shields enough to feel much more approachable and sympathetic, and the plot focuses on multi-scale nested politics rather than a quest for revenge. Katherine Addison's The Goblin Emperor is full of crunchy politics, with a smart protagonist scrambling to keep on top of them and do the right thing in spite of it all. It is not the least bit grimdark, and it has steampunk bridges and court intrigue and successful political marriages and competent people doing their best. Max Gladstone's Full Fathom Five is the latest stand-alone entry in the awesome Craft Sequence, and possibly my favorite so far. I get extremely flaily when trying to talk about this series, and usually just end up saying, "Necromantic lawyers!" because if you find that appealing you'll probably like them. But Gladstone does the best combination of shiny worldbuilding and deep-yet-unobtrusive thematic work I've ever seen, so the whole thing is also an ongoing exploration of the costs and benefits of capitalism and of loyalty to sacred things... via undead CEOs who literally kill gods to gain immortality, and then struggle (sometimes successfully) to take over the functions that those gods have been carrying out for millennia.
Flaily, like I said.
I just finished Stranger, Sherwood Smith and Rachel Mangia Brown's new YA--not one I've seen on a lot of slates, but definitely deserving. It's a Steampunk western in a far-post-apocalyptic LA--the doubtful-but-fun sort of apocalypse that breaks modern technology and possibly replaces some of it with magic. LA has kept its current diversity but long ago lost much of its current population, so you get the rich syncretic mixture of cultures distilled down to small town size, and also mutant powers and teleporting squirrels and worrisomely intelligent trees.
Short stories: I'm very grateful to Cecily Kane for introducing me to Because I Prayed This Word, a portal fantasy response to Christine de Pizan's Book of the City of Ladies, with Sappho and medieval nuns and buildings made of poetry. Ursula Vernon's Toad Words is a wonderfully sensible story about how to handle the curse that causes frogs to come out of your mouth when you talk--it's an awesome story in it's own right, but particularly meant a lot to me when our 2-year-old (whose favorite thing is frogs) had just started treatment for a speech delay. (She's up to age level now! Spring peepers all over the place!) I was also particularly fond of Charlie Jane Anders's As Good as New, Seanan McGuire's Each to Each, Max Gladstone's A Kiss With Teeth, and Xia Jia's Spring Festival: Happiness, Anger, Love, Sorrow, Joy.
Best Editor, short form: This almost goes back up under my own eligible stuff, but I want to point out that Carl Engle-Laird, my editor at Tor.com, does awesome work. Last year was his first for acquiring fiction there--he had 6 stories out, and several of the others have made several best-of lists as well. From the author's side of the editing experience, I can report that he gives book-quality feedback on his stories--the published version of Litany is significantly stronger than the version that he originally accepted--and that he cares deeply and enthusiastically about connecting stories with people who will love them.
Other things: Shadow Unit, my favorite not-a-tv-show ever, "aired" its final "episode" in 2014. My favorite story of the year was "Dark Leader," but following the Wheel of Time rule, WTF fans should probably nominate the final episode (Something's Gotta Eat T Rexes, technically a novelette) as a stand-in for the whole series. Also, IO9 reminds us that radio plays are eligible as dramatic presentations. Which means that I have to figure out what my favorite Welcome to Night Vale episode of the year was and whether it was long form (which it will be if it was Old Oak Doors) or short form (if it was any of the other episodes). Wait, I could nominate Old Oak Doors as best long form and another episode for short form. The sense of the room (consisting of my wife, sister, and non-verbal daughter) is that the short form nomination should go to Parade Day. No, wait again--Old Oak Doors turns out to be short form by 57 seconds. Okay, both episodes for short form, then.
