And They Call It Space Puppy Love

To stave off unfair accusations that this might be a cat-and-chook-and-pony-favouring blog, and to add a little fun and cuteness to your Friday night, pop across to Tor. Com to watch a heart-warming clip from the upcoming, must-see, at least if you're a fan, Riddick 3 movie.

Why? Because there's a big, nasty, ugly as sin, slobbering, potentially puppy-eating alien, and the most adorable, yapping, but (honestly) slightly stupid puppy - make that adorable, yapping, but (honestly) slightly stupid SPACE puppy - that's about to become an alien snack, but Vin Diesel shows his soft side and...

Don't worry, go watch, it's safe - there's not a single cat to be seen. Or chook. Or pony. Promise.

 

  



I'll Have The Quote She's Having

I must, I must (sorry) pass on certain incredibly wise words from Lauren Beukes that I read in the paper this morning, just as I must, I must haul The Shining Girls from my TBR stack ASAP and read it, because the quote not only mentions three of my top twenty most favourite topics, namely writing, keyboards and cats, but it's the essence of all those secret-to-becoming-both-a-blockbuster-writer-and-a-respected-literary-darling theses on offer everywhere (for quite reasonable prices) reduced to a single tweet:

"Formula for a successful writer: 90 per cent avoiding the internet, 1 per cent writing, 9 per cent persuading the cat to sit somewhere other than ON your keyboard."

:)

This sterling career advice hits close to home. At the moment, Jenny, my usual keyboard cat, and Gus, the cat who would be the new keyboard cat, are tussling for lap supremacy. I'd rather Jenny wins this particular battle. She's smaller, stays still and mostly snoozes while I work - good company without any bother. Augusta is a stocky girl who squirms a lot and wants pats all the time. Jenny knowingly walks around the keyboard while Gus stomps on it. Time will tell how this titanic, feline struggle turns out. I know better than to try and tip the outcome in my favour. Never ever get involved in cat sleeping place politics.

Also, I'm trying to reduce my internet time and convert it to writing time, especially on Wednesdays, when I'm prone to giving in to my sooky  'I'm not well, and this is my R&R day, so it's okay to "rest" in front of the computer and recreationally read all this interesting stuff because, hey, maybe I can turn it into a story, besides which, I'm looking for new writing markets too' excuse. No more. Today I wrote for over 5 hours (alas, my cyborg story is not advancing, but I finished my expanded story that might already have a home - it just needs a polish now), resubbed two rejected stories, read, and reluctantly took care of some official boring stuff of the type that makes the world go round. And, of course, napped.

Although I did inadvertently catch a glimpse of the Miley Cyrus scandal...

Make It Fun And They Will Come

http://www.themarysue.com/illinois-department-website-klingon/

Plus, it really works:

The Illinois Department of Employment Security began offering Klingon as one of the languages its website can be viewed in as a way of getting a bit of attention earlier this summer when Star Trek Into Darkness was arriving in theaters. They decided to keep it on afterward when they realized that the novelty of it was drawing more people to their site, which offers information on unemployment benefits, veterans’ benefits, and job searching resources.

Entanglement, Matrix, Magic, What?

I arrived home tonight after quite a nice day Arvo Jobwise, productive reading and writingwise too, and as I pottered around shutting up the house feeling content and at peace with the universe, I casually thought about how nice it was to come home to a calm, quiet evening, and how thankfully it had been absolutely ages since the last late night doof, doof battle with the "kids" who periodically swing by and use the place next door to do stuff they probably can't do elsewhere (we seem to have to go through these episodes every 6 months or so, although once I did get a blissful eighteen months off, and the tussle of wills usually lasts about a week and can involve the police) when, about ten minutes after my return...

You guessed it.

They're baaaaack.

I really must stop making these things happen.

*** It all worked out. They kept it pretty low and it didn't last long. I'm just a bit Pavlovian when it comes to doof, doof . The first beat, and my body prepares for battle :)

The Marvellous Mysteriousness of Mysteries

So the C.I.A. finally admitted that yeah, Area 51 actually exists, and here's a great big sorry-about-that to all the folks we've called delusional nutters for decades (well, maybe I made up the apology bit, but hey, if pants-on-fire statements are good enough for leading government agencies, then they're good enough for me). If the C.I.A.was expecting cheers and kudos for their belated honesty, which was, let's not forget, forced upon then, they must have been mightily disappointed. Military buffs and alien conspiracy theorists all over the world responded to the confession with a resounding d'oh and demanded they move on to the really good stuff, a.k.a. extraterrestrials and saucer-shaped hovering objects.

Alas, the CIA is stubbornly sticking to the it's-just-a-test-site-for-super-cool-spy-planes-and-invisible-bombing-machines-none-of-which-were-constructed-from-the-debris-of-crashed-spaceships line, but those who believe in aliens on Earth, either already dissected or held in detention camps so we can pump them for information and force them to provide us with technological goodies, are hopeful that The Truth will soon be revealed:

''I'm thinking that they're probably testing the waters now to see how mad people get about the big lie and cover-up,'' said Audrey Hewins, a woman from Maine who runs a support group for people like her who believe they have been contacted by extraterrestrials. ''We're hoping the CIA is leading up to disclosure'' of the existence of space aliens on Earth. ''We know that they're here and have been here for a long time.''

So one of the great, fun, mostly-for-adults mysteries of our times is hotting up again, and citizens are gleefully girding their pens to write letters to their local representatives demanding that all be revealed, and inundating the C.I.A. with petitions to come clean about their despicable desert autopsies. You wonder if such tales of Little Green Folk, be they of the leprechaun type or rewritten for modern audiences as refugees from Alpha Centauri, will ever go away. People, I suspect, are reluctant to give up on the mysteries that make this mundane world that little more magical and exciting. It's the little kid in us grabbing at anything that will recreate the wonder we used to feel for the world's amazingness before we grew up, decided we knew everything, and became cynical.

My brother was telling me just yesterday about the young daughter of a friend who is presently all excited about the Lock Ness Monster and keeps bombarding everyone with information about the reclusive beastie as if she herself had hunted it down and dragged it ashore, and she acts as if we obviously jaded adults needed to be educated about how truly thrilling this possibly-a-surviving-dinosaur discovery is. She's probably right. My brother and I laughed, remembering all the stranger-than-strange, believe-it-or-not mystery books full of weird cases that enthralled us, and maybe even scared us a little bit in a good way, when we were kids. I was actually happy to hear that in this day and age, those lovable old faithfuls Nessie and the Abominable Snowman still have the power to set off fireworks in young brains.

Mysteries are time-honoured incentives for further intellectual investigating and getting out there to explore the murky ponds, exotic jungles and inscrutable mountain peaks of the world.

And the mystery of Area 51, for all it's attendant nutbaggery, does invite people to look at the universe and wonder the kind of what ifs that question our place in the cosmos, as well as the honesty of human governments.

Are we alone amongst the stars? If so, then I'm glad we have Bigfoot along for the ride to keep us company.

The Chook Who Won't Be Pinned Down

I was actually thinking of posting about how it might be time to rename the Vagabond Chook and call her something like the Clockwork Chook instead when, sure enough, she's suddenly gone all weird and flighty on me. After seven months of staying on the mat, sticking to the backyard, and being extremely calm and regular and orderly in her habits, things are topsy-turvy again.

She no longer turns up loudly demanding her breakfast in the morning as soon as she hears me moving in the kitchen, but is instead doing mysterious whatevers up on the roof (looking at fields afar?) and loudly cackling about them. She's also off patrolling the neighbourhood during the daytime hours again, and when she deigns to stay home, she's very persistent about getting into the house and investigating stuff. Today I walked into my writing room and found her up on my desk intently studying the noticeboard which keeps track of rejected stories that need to be reworked /go out again. Perhaps she's a reincarnated writer trapped in a chicken's body? If so, given her stroppy character, I wonder which one...

Anyway, when I shooed her away, she crankily refused to leave the room, and when I stopped chasing her, she promptly fluttered up onto the spare bed and settled down there, much to Gus's disgust. It was very wet day outside, so I finally let her be just so I could get some work done. Plus, it was pretty cute (and for those who worry / wonder about such matters, she's wonderfully house trained. Not that I trained her. As a chook of independent mind, she trains herself.)

So, whilst the rain hammered down on the roof overhead and the Querulous Chook contentedly snuggled amongst my annoyed cats, I edited 3 stories, subbed two of them, and worked on a piece that an editor rejected but said that she would, based on my past work, look at again if I slowed down and fleshed the story out, which was a nice of her to say in so many ways and I felt quite chuffed when I read the email. Someone out there in the big wide world knows my work! And my usual standards. Imagine that. I have to admit that in so enthusiastically stripping down this particular piece to what I thought was an easier-to-sell length, or rather shortness, I probably went too far, so I appreciate the chance to plump it up again.

The Simplest of Simplest Truths

Squirm all you like - there's just no getting around it, I'm afraid.

Over at SFWA, Mercedes M. Yardley writes:

There’s a difference between being a writer and wanting to be a writer.  There are plenty of conversations about it, about whether payment, time spent, or day jobs land you on either one side or the other. But the consensus seems to be one major thing:  writer’s write. Wannabe writer’s want to write, but they can’t seem to find the time/interest/inspiration.

Words on page. That’s the difference.

You can read the rest here.

It's sad but true, busy, busy folk  - you have to make time for words and ideas. You have to make room in your life for them. And you have to get them down on a page. And then you have to work them over and submit them and...

But mostly, you have to write. And then write some more.

Now, please excuse me, I'm off to work on a WIP on the train.

I'm Such A Space-Agey Gal

So, yes, well, cough, hmm - major confession ahead - today, for the very first time, I "graduated" to an e-reader. Yep, I'm not an early adopter (though I am an enthusiastic user of technology if I discover it suits my needs)

It's not that I've had anything against e-readers up until now - for the longest time, I've been playing with the idea of scooting around the Internet ordering exotic and hard-to-get books and magazines from afar, and I quite like the idea of reading without accumulating more books for my already overburdened shelves. The truth is, I'm a bit lazy, and I just didn't feel an overwhelming need to check out the hardware and make the change. My TBR stacks of print books have kept me entertained for years, and there are still enough left to see me through the boring years of an imminent zombie apocalypse if need be. Also, I'm the kind of person who needs impetus and speed, and possibly a push, to leap new technological gaps and add another of those latest must-have gadgets to my ever-expanding collection of things that need constant recharging.

But now, with my judging duties for the 2013 Australian Shadows Awards picking up steam, I've finally made the leap, simply because it's just so very practical to download the bigger files emailed out by Shadow HQ and read them on the train to and from the Arvo Job. I'm still getting the hang of holding it and flicking the pages, but it's going well so far. Time will tell if the habit sticks.

So yeah, e-reading. Living in the future. Finally. Wow. :)

No-Brainer

I love archaeology.

I love writing.

I've just discovered that Hadley Rille Books is calling for submissions for an archaeology themed, multi-genre anthology called Ruins Excavation, the fourth book in their series of Ruins anthologies.

As the title, and the series, implies, the story must feature ruins, real or otherwise, on Earth. Ruins! I love ruins! And I love stories with and/or about ruins!

You can read about the antho here.

Will I give it a shot?

Are you kidding? It's raining down hard outside, this is my wonderful Wednesday, catch-up day off, and there's already a WIP in my head wanting out.

This'll be fun.

Back From The High Country

Yawn.

My sister, her friend W and I spent the weekend horse riding with others through the High Country . That means a lot of uphill work. If you've never stood in stirrups while the horse beneath you tackles a steep, never-ending incline and groaned because your calves are burning with pain, then, of course, you have no idea what that simple phrase means. Still, I feel surprisingly good today, but ever so tiiiiiired.

I very carefully paced myself by taking Friday off to sleep in and pack (it's cold up there in the Victorian Alps this time of year, so much warm and waterproof gear was required even though the predicted snow and rain did not eventuate, and we had quite glorious weather), travel across the state and stay at my sister's so we were ready to head off early to get to the Mansfield area in time for our 9.30 start. Today I stayed home to recharge my drained batteries, but all in all, I'm exceedingly pleased with myself for getting through the two days without any dramas or fuss. This is the ride I was supposed to have gone on over eighteen months ago, but the first of my three operations got in the way, and since then ongoing slicing and dicing and medical crap has kept me off the mountains, so it's been well over two years since I last rode amongst those peaks. There's been many a time, mostly when I've been flat on my back with tubes coming out of me and had machines that go beep by my bedside, when I've worried that I might not ever get to enjoy slogging up muddy slopes and sliding down hillsides on horseback again :) But I did it! And I'm most grateful that it happened.

Anyway, much fun was had, challenges were overcome, the silence of a starry night far from civilization was enjoyed, stunning scenery seen from horseback on the high trails was oohed and aahed over, our horses were compared and much talked about, breakneck gallops up long tracks were done with exhilaration, and details were rehashed with much enthusiasm on the drive home yesterday.

Now I'm eager for another dose of this goodness.

A Good Start to the Day

Forget fibre rich cereals - there's nothing like a sale to start the day. I just received word that Bards & Sages Quarterly will publish my story A Moveable Buffet in their April 2014 issue. This is the amusing, and yes, a bit weird, Hemingwayesque story that made it to the last round for a certain funny anthology, but didn't quite get there.

It's about 3 Interpol cops, an alien, a French restaurant called Le Cop de Proust, and an international crime wave...

Outer Space Just Got Pinker

As an addendum to yesterday's post, I've just discovered that to commemorate the first anniversary of Curiosity's landing on Mars, NASA has teamed up with Mattel to create the Mars Explorer Barbie.

I do like the fact that after luring the little girls in with much pinkness and rover cuteness:

The packaging art also includes a list of facts about the history of American women space explorers, plus a link to the space agency's Women@NASA website.

I'm not a great fan of pink myself (though I understand that historically, it was once viewed as a powerful, vibrant colour before being demoted to a weak, "female" shade, but now seems to be swinging back and climbing the ranks as it is defiantly embraced and empowered again. Humans are funny creatures, imbuing the merest things with meaning according to societal trends and then using those templates to take shortcuts when thinking.) Anyway, anything that says space exploration is not just for boys, that girls can do these things too and do them their own way with feminine sass and flair if they choose (and not, if they also choose) can only be a good thing.

 I hope this means we'll soon see little girls unselfconsciously playing space launches and landings in their bedrooms and racing their spacesuited dolls at breakneck speeds around the lounge room coffee table in pink exploration buggies. I hope to see them organising tea parties in back yards for Barbie, Spirit, Opportunity and Curiosity, and the five of them, whilst eating pretend scones, discussing with aplomb the difficulties of setting up a Martian colony.

And if, as they grow older, these girls look up at a starry sky and see that the universe, which doesn't give a hoot about human politics, is actually a cool, gender-neutral place full of wondrous challenges, then I'd say Barbie's job is done.

Party Time!

Over at the JPL/NASA site, everyone is wearing funny hats, streamers deck the consoles, whistles are being blown and everyone is reminiscing about that amazing event which happened just one year ago when Curiosity, that huge hunk of wonderfully sturdy technology, successfully landed on Mars. What an achievement! And one that the earthbound teams involved are still justifiably and most palpably proud of. There are plenty of stunning photos, videos, and fun information like the list of Curiosity's mostly chirpy wake up songs that the MSL team have played at the start of each Martian day. You know, stuff like Don't Worry, Be Happy - just the thing to cheer up an explorer far from home and all alone on an alien world.

You can even get into the spirit of things by sending a postcard to Curiosity.

Aaah, how I love those plucky Martian rovers.

Who Are You?

Doctor Number Twelve will be Peter Capaldi. There he is in the official BBC photo looking very dapper. And possibly a touch mysterious? And deep?

There is much cheering around the blogs.

The Thick of It fans are happy. Extremely happy. Malcolm Tucker handed the keys to the TARDIS... Will British politics survive?

And, folk are asking, does this mean the Doctor will let fly some unsavoury language?

The man has street cred. The man has acting chops. The man has gravitas. The man has that maturity that I think has been sorely lacking in the Whoster lately (sorry). I might be able to unclench my teeth now and enjoy the show more (sorry). I might even start believing again that the Doctor has more than a millennium worth of birthdays under his belt (sorry).

And, for goodness sakes, not only has Mr Capaldi touched base with the Doctor as a guest in a previous episode, and popped in to visit the Torchwood mob, but he was in World War Z and Lair of the White Worm!!!

I'm looking forward to this shakeup.

Back to Basics

My writing felt flat on Monday, I was utterly uninspired by my WIPs, and my mood was a bit down over a couple of recent rejections, so it was time to initiate the usual contingency plan for such times - take a sanctioned writing break and do more fun, randomised reading so as to remember why I do what I do and usually love it.

I got through two, very different books. The first was Dodie Smith's genteel I Capture the Castle, which I had somehow managed to not read in my youth. The two sisters in it were so much more worldly than I'd expected, real bohemians when it comes to their surprising frankness about sex and religion, and also far more calculating. Their scheming about snagging a rich husband would be off-putting if they weren't so charming about it. I loved the non-whiny attitudes and resourcefulness of all the characters despite their appalling poverty - you'd be hard put finding a modern character eating cold broccoli and rice and simply being grateful for the way it so satisfactorily filled their stomachs. The characters are all well delineated as individuals yet work well as an ensemble, and mostly remain intelligent, gracious, funny, breezy and tough, each making the best of their lot while trying to better their lives and help others as best they can. The descriptions of the English countryside reek of nostalgia (then author was living in the US when she wrote it), and the village scenes evoke a dreamy, slow-moving era now long gone. There's a lot of kindness in this book. Whether real or imagined, it was nice to read about such gentle folk.

The second was Scott Westerfeld's Leviathan, a real page-turner which had been stuck in one of my TBR stacks for ages. I'm now kicking myself over not reading sooner, and will have to get my hands on the sequel ASAP.  Alternative history with famous names popping in and out of the story, WW1 politics with a twist, genetic manipulation on a grotesque and often unsettling scale, grittier, more grinding and more oilier than usual steampunk, brave and resourceful main characters, action scenes galore - it's got the lot. Ten pages in, I found myself wishing I'd written it, which is always the first sign that I'm on my way to being cured of a bout of writing apathy. By the end, I'd fully recovered and was eager to get going again.
 
So, with my enthusiasm for writing fully restored, I shall hit the keyboard tomorrow, and hit it hard.

Cat Post By Stealth

I'm going to use my love of archaeology (long ago, I studied Near Oriental Archaeology at the University of Copenhagen. We used to have the coolest tutorials in the back rooms of big, old museums surrounded by floor-to-high-ceiling-high stacked collections of colonial-era plunder. There's nothing like a few sarcophagi and statues of ancient deities staring at you to set the mood) to sneak in one of those often maligned cat posts by linking to this piece about how long before the Internet with its LOL cats and Grumpy Cat made the lives of dog folk and ailurophobes a wretched misery, ancient cultures had cat memes too.

No kidding? Perused any Ancient Egyptian stuff lately? I wonder if the good folk of the Upper and Lower Nile also made a fuss and went around groaning about the latest papyrus full of felines, mocking temple statues, cursing Bastet and all her fine arts incarnations, and shaking their heads in pity at painters who employed the ubiquitous feline motifs, to use the correct term.

Anyway, the author writes .:
Take a dour little kitty artifact that resides in the American Museum of Natural History. He is Grumpy Cat’s distant cousin. Let’s call him Old Grumpy Cat, or OGC. Museum officials call him a ceramic bottle, and say he probably came from Northern Peru. Created about 2,000 years ago, he was likely used for special ceremonies, then part of a burial.

Which is great, because I also get to add a photo of the cutie. On top of that, I now have an excuse to add the only LOL cat picture that made me laugh enough for me to want to save it.

Enjoy: