So there's a local SF group of fans and writers ( R-SPEC ) that meets at the B&N up the road once a month. And they're taking subs for an anthology about life in Rochester in 2034. Which doesn't sound all that far away, but then earlier today I happened on an article about how everyday life changed when people shifted from horses to engines, so...the pt is, things do change. That's the whole reason behind the "What If?" story, right?

Anyway, the deadline is June 15 and I'm thinking, well, that's great but I can't possibly figure out a story set in Rochester and make it work in that time span--except I already do have one in the trunk. Some 15 years ago (give or take) "Bushido" garnered "like it, but not enough to buy it" rejections from everywhere. Methinks it's time to pull it out and try to massage it into shape for a new phase of rejections.

Of course, by "massage" I mean rip out all the crap that doesn't work and nail in the new, improved bits without losing what made me want to tell this story in the first place.

Excuse me a moment while I complain about things spouse promised he would do, which I am now doing, because otherwise it won't get done. Like, finding more than one (Outrageous!) quote for someone to clean the house back in Pepperell so we can finally get it on the market?!!!?!

Sheeeesh.

I hate being the secretary. I also hate paying for upkeep (over a barrel!!) on something I'm not living in, which is now getting far more $$$ dropped on it than it even did when I was there.

Because getting the right opening sets the whole tone for the book--for the author getting started, as well as the reader...

Here's the start of The Haunting of Hill House, by Shirley Jackson:

"No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream. Hill House, not sane, stood by itself against its hills, holding darkness within; it had stood so for eighty years and might stand for eighty more. Within, walls continued upright, bricks met neatly, floors were firm, and doors were sensibly shut; silence lay steadily against the wood and stone of Hill House, and whatever walked there, walked alone."

Why it works-- This is three sentences, almost dreamlike, each full of images connected by your favorite and mine, the sneaky and knowing semi-colon. Semi-colons warn you that the sentence isn't done, there's more to come, and with sentences that build a sense of deep foreboding, as these do, it works beautifully. They're also, to me, sentences that 'sing'; you can hear a voice behind this paragraph. I hear a woman's voice, calm and uninflected, although maybe it's female only because I know the author is female--but I'd like to think it would be an offstage female narrator, either way. In my head, that suits this tone very well.

Nothing can live for long, and remain sane, without dreaming. "Hill House, not sane", does not dream. It holds within its walls a reality that must, by definition here, be insane. Also note the phrasing "not sane" vs "insane". The former is colder, inhuman almost, a nice contrast to the idea of the house "holding darkness within" like a living thing, a person (not sane) keeping secrets hidden. And note how the house stands "against its hills" -- "its hills", not the hills. This is a well-defended house, ready, prepared for anything. Just with that simple description, I'm already getting nervous.

"Within, walls continued upright, bricks met neatly, floors were firm, and doors were sensibly shut" continues with the idea of this place in a defensive posture, under control, unquestionably in a condition of "absolute reality"; and thus, not sane.

"Sensibly shut" -- I love this double-edged description. Sensible: yes, of course. Who could quibble? Let's keep the drafts down, let's muffle the noise, let's hide what we don't want others to see, or know. A house with mysterious, awful things to hide.

"Silence lay steadily against the wood and stone..." like a living blanket capable of smothering anything that would disturb it? Or maybe more tightly, like a shroud...

"Whatever walked there, walked alone." -- Self-explanatory.

Sigh. Lovely.

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Oh, and, for my "Stella Wars" cohort: remember those pesky Merekats? The main character of Jackson's We Have Always Lived in the Castle is named "Merricat". I know I read that book in high school. So that's another name nicked from long-past reading, just like good old Hissarlik.

here's an interesting article from the latest "Clarksworld":

"Of Dice and Men: Modern Fantasists and the Influence of Role-Playing Games"

My perspective, for what's it's worth: my brain cooks better when it's warmed by GMing or playing in a good game, but there's also a definite bent toward wanting to write your own gaming fanfic instead of Something Original. I'm weak on plotting (and probably other things, too, but let's stick with that one) and sometimes when I can't figure out what happens next, I need to mentally throw the plot to the gamers in my head to let them figure out what really does happen next.

at the local Ben & Jerry's yesterday. Man, nothing makes people happy like free ice cream.

"Chocolate Therapy" -- highly recommended.

And there was "Phish Food", too, (the surf & turf edition!!) but I didn't see it in time.

Book reviews-yeah, those things. Well, the stack is back. That didn't take long.

Finished a book review this morning and realized that, for now, there is nothing else on the pile requiring immediate reviewing attention. Holy Cow!

So I've been reading: Lynn Abbey's Jerlayne, which I've only had since 1999. And today, because a chance mention got me thinking about it a week ago, I borrowed Shirley Jackson's The Haunting of Hill House from the library. It's just about the only book I've ever read that actually scared me. (Okay, movies: "The Birds" did, too--just thinking about that scene in the attic gives me the cauld grue. And I've never seen "Psycho"--no, really! but I bet that would scare me too!)

The movie made from the Jackson novel was more than effectively frightening, too--the original one (I saw it in very effective B&W on tv when I was probably around 8; our tv was B&W, so it may actually be in color. I suppose we could NetFlix it. Actually, that would be an interesting experiment....)

So. I can gorge myself on my own reading, and get some actual big chunks of fiction down, but I also need to pick up some more science writing markets, so time for researching and sending off queries and tearsheets. I have about a month or so before many kids magazines that publish with the school year will be assigning stuff for Sept and October.

And somewhere in there I can frustrate the hell of out myself by jiggering around with the wireless problems on my laptop. Bah. I'd much rather read.

I have been squatting on Mark's desktop PC's web connection because my own wireless connection Will Not Work. This has been an immensely frustrating month. Anyone with any idea as to what I can try to fix this, please let me know.-

The problem came on little by little throughout March. Sometimes I'd try to open my browser (firefox, usually, but IE won't work either) and it wouldn't load the page. "check the connection". I'd check the connection, reboot the DSL box, restart my laptop, and eventually it'd come back up, not by any pattern I can note. Until the day it didn't.

I can plug the DSL line right into the laptop and it works fine.

Windows on the laptop can "see" our household network. But-- the Linksys wireless card icon in the laptop toolbar is grayed out. When I run through the Linksys setups, everything looks fine. Linksys says it's all correct. It just won't "connect".

Interestingly enough. The browser _will_ connect to a local neighborhood network: one where the homepage loads and the site asks for a credit card number to let you actually use that access pt. So I haven't actually done that.

I can probably scrape up $50 or so for a new wireless card, but I'm not convinced I need to, or even that it will help. What am I missing from this puzzle????

Have been watching the first season of "The Man From U.N.C.L.E" on DVD (yes, this is another show from long-ago childhood that I remember watching and enjoying, though I'm surprised I don't remember it as well as I did "The Prisoner". Must've been the rovers....) The first season ran in 1964. I was two years old, so probably the bits I remember are from the third season; "The Prisoner" ran in the U.S. in 1966.

Anyway, while enjoying the show, I've been making mental notes for "Adventure", etc., and have come to the following conclusions:

* Doc Archer didn't karate-chop enough people.

* We definitely didn't use poison/knock-out gas frequently enough.

* Nothing says "scenery-chewing" like William Shatner, Leonard Nimoy, and Werner Kemperer (yes, the Commandant from "Hogan's Heroes") in the wonderfully whiplashed plot of "The Project Stigas Affair."

* Villains with secret installations must all use the same contractor for their ventilation systems.

* The 1963 Corvette was a very sexy car.

* American housewives make very good spies. (No surprise, really. It was the 60s, after all.)

* Reanimating Hitler has always been a bad idea.

* Never put the villain's radio tracker device on the collar of a dog who likes you.

* Griffith Observatory makes a great exterior set for a supervillain hideout. Heck, the road up the mountain even goes through a tunnel suitable for car chases and fight scenes.

Yesterday was a massive Errand Day. I did a mess of stuff:

* wrote a book review

* picked up a prescription and bought allergy meds

* found the Social Security Administration office on the edge of downtown Rochester (14th floor of the HSBC building, just in case you want to know, and a solid brush with "Brazil", except I didn't have to fight over a desk; pretty sure I saw Tuttle, though) and a place to park ($2) and only had to wait 45 min (started reading for the next review) to get the paperwork out of the way for a replacement card. Whoopee! Now I can finally (well, when the card shows up) get my MA drivers license magic-wanded to a NYS license.

* picked up photos from the three rolls of assorted film I'd dropped off at Wegman's last week. (One of these turned out to be from about 5 years ago, when spouse and urchin flew off (without me) to visit paternal grandparents for Mother's Day. (A present all around.))

* had lunch

* took the dog for a decent walk

* packed up some parcels and took'em to the post office

* met urchin at bus stop and walked to town hall for Passport Office day (every Wednesday) to get paperwork in for urchin's passport, so we can get back into the country after visiting Canada (a very possible trip, especially since Niagara Falls is only one hr away.

* sorted out photos for grandparents.

I realize this is a normal day for many people. Not me. Today I'm ready to get back to the books (and the laundry, and I baked choc chip muffins this morning, too). Also, three weeks of receipts, invoices, and assorted paperwork to sort and Quicken-up and file. AND I promised myself the new rough draft for Chap One would be done by tomorrow.

Stuff to do!

So this weekend I'm driving down to Lowman, Center of the Universe (um, yeah, right) with Urchin in tow. My best friend from high school is visiting his folks for Passover; he lives in San Diego these days, so I don't get to see him very often--but now that we're only a few hrs away from "home", I'm itching for the drive.

And this will be the first time Urchin has seen Maternal Grandparents in their natural habitat. I can't show him my old room, as it's full of stuff these days. And I'm pretty sure my parents will be completely worn out after spending a good part of Sunday with him while I'm off hanging out with HS Friend. But it should be a good tiredness. And the creek is low, so he can't get into too much trouble without me there to bail him out.

I'm still behind on work; need to finish up a book and get the review in today. Need to go through two weeks of receipts and mail. Am in the midst of a day of laundry. Things will get done. Muse is back at my shoulder telling me to stay focused. The chapter will get finished by next Fri. It will.

Life is slipping away this week. Urchin is home from school for "April Break". I've managed to get some errands out of the way, baked some cookies (at least we have some fresh hermits in the house for a change, somewhere) but little in the way of professional accomplishment.

Muse must be under the table sleeping off the bourbon. Time to poke him awake.

That's the Douglas Adam-ish weather forecast for Rochester from the folks at Accuweather. Mind you, this is Rochester and we've had three--count'm!--THREE sunny days in a row. In the spring. When this nice spell breaks, it's gonna be ugly.
--hey, look at that, the icon for Wednesday in the bottom right corner of the window just threw out a thundercloud w/ lightning bolt. Ha.

Me, I'm still waiting for some of those April breezes. We have 4-5 cheap plastic kites we've never flown (and one rip-stop nylon; cheap rip-stop, but still, Not Plastic; although here the field will not have shorn-off wheat stalks to poke holes in the kite when it comes down) and I'm dying to get into the air.

I have carted the printer out to spouse's computer: Gutenberg to the mountain. Haven't had time to vac out the laptop yet. Tonight I am going to the local library for an "evening tea". Not a daily or even a weekly event, but I think it should be! Last night was a program on making an "origami" scrapbook...which turned out to be the same design I used for some little blank books I made for my Tuesday writers group last year, only with nicer paper and fancy ribbon. I've got the book together and started cutting the photos and arranging. Maybe tomorrow night I can finish it.

Must exercise. Looking at old photos -- some Very Old -- is a good prod in that direction.

Oh yeah, and this is the absolute first time in months that I haven't woken in the morning with a killer sinus headache. What a gorgeous day!

Just back from the poetry meeting, which has left me in a good mood and ready once again to face the Most Intractable, Irascible, Annoying, Want-to-pound-my-head-against-the-wall Wireless Network that hates my laptop. Spouse's machine is talking to the Web just fine. So I can send email, send in book reviews, etc. Can Not talk to my printer (which is attached to my laptop) from Spouse's machine. Arghhhhh.

Tried reinstalling the wireless card. 2X. The first time, I got a link but it's so damned slow I can't get online. The second time: Nada. Can't detect a bloody thing.

Once I get this review in I will try:

* blowing the dust out of the laptop. It's dustier here than Pepperell, thanks to forced hot air heat. Maybe I've got so much crud inside, it's affecting the connection. Or something. Maybe.

* wave some bones over laptop, then over DSL box. Sprinkle chicken blood copiously. Chant bastardized Latin loudly.

And if that doesn't work, I guess I'll start pricing new wireless cards.

was going to vent about not doing enough writing, but instead, I'm taking the dog for a walk. Short story simmering in back brain. Will write after walk.

And on your right, you will see we're now passing a link to a short story entitled 'Petrella', which appears online in this week's issue of Fantasy Magazine

Huzzah!

Yes, because I can correctly use the poetry term "enjambment" in coherent sentences. More jargon to stuff into the old brain.

Going to the Monday poetry group at the local library is really reminding me that I need to find a writers group. I am now (almost nearly) a rabid & slavering critiquer of poems because, basically, I'm not really getting out of the ivory tower for much of anything else beyond groceries and post office errands.

Stanley Kunitz -- a resounding Yes.
Ted Kooser -- it depends.
Gerald Stern -- sorry, I wouldn't have voted him for Poet Laureate in a ba-zillion years.

Li-Young Lee -- Good Stuff.
Naomi Shihab Nye -- Admirable writing, but most of it's prose. Good prose, but still, not poetry.

And I'm still sticking with my guy Borges. He's the whole package. Recursively.

My neck has that warm, fuzzy, staticky sensation in the back, the kind where, any second now, it's going to turn into screaming, I-don't-want-to-move-my-head-a-cm ground-glassy pulsing.

I have updated a month's worth of receipts & invoices in Quicken. I have organized the 2007 records and fixed errors worth a few thousand dollars, preparatory to doing taxes. I did my Nebula voting on time this year. Organized a bunch of health records, called for a prescription refill (that I still haven't heard back about)....

I need to do some yoga--very carefully.

But first I guess I owe the dog a walk. Promised her 45 min ago.

And lo, there was much paperwork dealt with today, signing urchin up for a couple of one week sessions of "science camp" and swimming lessons and stuff. (Sniff: I never got to go to science camp or take swimming lessons or....oh, never mind. I'm just jealous.)

--and more paperwork to go. Time to get taxes out of the way: this weekend.

writing: not so much. Got to finish reading a book and cobble up the review. Got to pull together the first scene in Names. Got to get rid of this misbegotten, gods-rotted sinus headache and put some heat on my aching neck....

So I am looking through this old manuscript, written back before I knew much of anything but that I wanted to write. I like some parts. I love some parts. But the setting is crap--especially now--which is not so bad, as I know the setting I want to use now, and I'm certain it will work.

The trick is to tweak the stuff I mostly like, probably kill the stuff I love because it's probably crap--and put in plenty more NEW stuff that will all pull the thing together and let me find the ending that I couldn't find 10-odd years ago, which is why I stuffed the thing in a trunk in the first place. I tried to blow off the dust a couple of years ago, but various things (lack of serious commitment; car breaks down. Breaks down again. And again. And again; spouse laid off; urchin needs new cloths & shoes; we need insurance; spouse in hospital, etc, etc, etc. And then we moved....) became excuses to not write the book.

So. Now I will write the book. To hell with the unsold house back in Pepperell.

And that ornithopter article, which was due Friday is still isn't done, but will be Real Soon Now.

I need to get more work done.

School is closed today, so Urchin is home. Playing Pokemon, now watching old "Pink Panther" cartoons online--why buy cable? Spouse is finally on the road, headed back to clean up the HoP and do the carpet selection from the range we finally settled on. I am holding down the Alamo here, which wouldn't be so bad if I weren't being such a rotten procrastinator.

Ornithopter piece--still not done.
Book which has to be reviewed by tomorrow--still not read.
Laundry--which has sounded the obnoxious "I'm done, already!" tone 3x--um, obviously getting ready to sound it again.

Okay. Laundry. Then ornithopters. Really.