In Thin, White and Right: The Ideal Christian Woman the speakers describe how it’s currently “in” in Conservative circles to be fit. One of the biggest, weirdest successes of the so-called Conservative movement is how they’ve convinced people to judge and hate who they themselves are. This is something I’ve never understood. Obesity and poverty are huge problems everywhere in the US, but in the South, especially. But a vast number of those same people have been persuaded that these things are their fault — some kind of moral failing. And they hate and mock people for being like that.
They say, “Poor? You’re a loser and it’s your fault. Fat? You’re a loser and it’s your fault. Addicted to drugs? You’re a loser and it’s your fault. Can you believe those woke people not hating poor, fat, drug addicts and telling them that it’s OK to be like that? What a bunch of leftist freaks!”
We now know, of course, that treating these things like they are moral failings doesn’t work. There are systemic reasons for obesity, poverty, drug addition, and many other things that we could work together to solve for everyone. Blaming people for being unable to individually solve them is purely hateful.
Of course, they also hate people for sexual orientation and gender identity which is similarly not a moral failing. Furthermore, we know that, among them, there a lot of people — maybe 20-25% — that would be much happier being able to express other orientations and identities. Instead, they live out their lives hating themselves and feeling like there is something wrong that needs to be hidden, bottled up, and repressed.
All I can say is that it’s deplorable that people would rather go through life hating themselves and engaging in self-abnegation. If that’s actually how you want to live, maybe you really are a loser and it is your fault.
Early this spring, at a meeting of the Faculty Senate Rules Committee with the Campus Leadership Council (the Chancellor, Provost, and Vice Chancellors), a key campus administrator mentioned that they didn’t understand why it was so difficult to recruit people to serve on the Faculty Senate. I was able to enlighten them with a story.
I read to him an excerpt of what my department’s Personnel Committee wrote about my service on my Annual Faculty Review (AFR) from 2023:
Recap: Dr. Brewer was a member of the biology awards committee, the biology climate committee, Chair of CNS lecturer review & promotion committee, Presiding officer of faculty senate, a member of the rules committee of the faculty senate, a faculty senator, an ad hoc reviewer for the journal American Biology Teacher, and serves on the Program Committee of the Straw Dob Writers Guild, an organization that supports writers in Western MA. Although not part of his job responsibilities, Dr. Brewer also published several short stories, novelettes, and flash fiction works.
Evaluation: Dr. Brewer’s service contributions meet departmental expectations.
For comparison, in many departments service on a single departmental committee would be considered sufficient to “meet expectations”. By contrast, I served on two departmental committees, I CHAIRED a personnel committee for the College (which is a particularly heavy load and for which many faculty would secure a release from other service), and I served as one of the two highest, elected positions that lead the Faculty Senate. I have to preside over the Senate meetings plus my service on the Rules Committee is heavier than most departmental committees. Moreover, I do additional outreach outside the University. (It’s Straw Dog Writer’s Guild, btw.) In short, I did a fuck ton of service that year. I’m not sure what I would have had to have done to get an “exceeds expectations” — maybe win a MacArthur Genius Award or something.
For 2024, BTW, my assessment was the same, even though I didn’t chair the College lecturer review and promotion committee. But they didn’t even mention the General Faculty Meeting that was one of the most difficult and challenging things I’ve ever done in my life (which I did prominently cite on my AFR — they just didn’t mention it). But departments just don’t value Faculty Senate service much. And that’s why it’s hard to recruit people to serve.
Several weeks after this happened, I happened to be awarded an inaugural Delphi Leadership Award by the Center for Faculty Development, which recognizes exceptional leadership in service to non-tenure-track faculty. It was nice to have my service recognized by someone, even if my department does not.
“Steven D. Brewer is recognized for his sustained leadership in the Massachusetts Society of Professors (MSP) and in the Faculty Senate in improving working conditions for NTT faculty. In MSP, Steven has served as an Officer, on the Executive Board, as the only NTT member on the MSP bargaining team, and multiple bargaining subcommittees to establish NTT promotion ladders, continuing appointment status, and the professional development fellowship. Steve was the first NTT member of the Senate Rules committee and now serves as Presiding Officer of the Faculty Senate.”
I’ve always known that my department did not really appreciate my university service, but it never stopped me from serving. I’ve always believed that faculty governance is critical to a university’s independence from outside influences. The faculty need to be involved in order to push back against efforts to control the university. Without a strong culture of engagement with faculty governance, there would be little to stop the university from being taken over. So, even though I knew that my service efforts would not lead to recognition at the department level, I believed it was important enough to do anyway. And it’s gratifying to see that service recognized, even if not by the colleagues in my department.
There is one kind of service I’ve stopped doing. For 25 years, I served as Director of the Biology Computer Resource Center and, during that time, I did extensive university service related to information technology (IT), serving on the Faculty Senate University Computing and Electronic Communications Committee (the euphonious FSUC&ECC). When I served on the Rules Committee the first time, I was involved in rewriting the charter for the committee to elevate it to become the Information and Communications Technology Council (ICTC), which had a larger charge and higher level administrative representation. During those times I worked ceaselessly to try to make the University IT responsive to the needs of departments and the faculty. But when the department rewrote my job description so that I wasn’t responsible for information technology anymore, I dropped all of my service related to IT. It’s not my job anymore.
Next year, I will complete my phased retirement and then none of it will be my job anymore. It’s been an wonderful career and I’m looking forward to one more wonderful year. But I’m also enjoying my transition to new challenges.
I’ll bring my own books plus a selection of other books from Water Dragon. The weather looks spectacular and I hope we’ll have a great showing. I hope to see you there!
I agreed, with the welcome support of my son, to set up and run the Readercon dealer tables for Water Dragon Publishing and Small Publishing in a Big Universe (SPBU) again this year. I had a number of observations when I ran it last year. I reviewed those and tried to put some of them into effect this year.
We only had one table each for Water Dragon and SPBU this year that were at a corner. As I understand it, there were originally two authors scheduled to use the SPBU table (plus some of my books are considered SPBU), but only one actually attended. So I used the rest of the SPBU table for my books and other Water Dragon titles.
Last year, I observed we had too many titles featured. I had considered getting some bookshelves that could let people browse, but didn’t manage to accomplish that. But I did change how the books were organized on the table. This year, rather than having essentially every title on a book stand, I had most titles laying flat on the table and only put a handful of featured titles on book stands. Over the course of the three days, I switched which books were featured, so that different books had a chance to stand out and be seen. Except the books by authors who were present: their books were on display for every day of the convention.
Water Dragon Table, Day 1Water Dragon Table, Day 2Water Dragon Table, Day 3
Three authors, besides me, were available to represent our table: two other Water Dragon authors and one SPBU author. I tried to spread the books by different authors out around the tables so that there was a chair where each of the books was positioned so that the author could stand behind their book to sell it. I was pleased when someone was looking at an author’s book when the author was near the table. I was able to point the author out for them to ask a question which then led to a sale. It’s amazing what a difference it makes to be present for selling books. In point of fact, reaching out to people when they’re at the table to call attention to your books makes a huge difference as well. At least half of my sales — maybe more — are directly attributable to my reaching out to people at the table to pitch books. If your books are just “there” people are much less likely to notice them.
One thing that surprised me this year was who I didn’t see in the bookstore. I’ve often enjoyed being in the bookstore because it’s an opportunity to see everyone that comes through. But not everyone visited the bookstore at Readercon this year. I might not have noticed, but I was particularly struck because a number of the most prominent, instantly-recognizable, authors and other members of the SFF community never came into the bookstore at all, which I found personally disappointing. At some other conventions, there are a number of inducements or other activities planned associated with the bookstore (or “dealer room”) that encourage people to visit. Maybe something like that would help here.
I got to pilot-test the 任せて DNA Analysis tool and Human DNA ribbon. Readercon only started using ribbons last year and there is not a strong ribbon culture. I developed a pitch centered around the tool that I introduced occasionally after my usual pitch. It was sometimes effective. Nobody seemed to find it problematic. A few people independently noticed the QR code irrespective of the pitch. (Or actually codes because I actually had two: one that led to the “Book” page of my website.) Although it didn’t seem interesting to everyone, some people really loved it. I still need to work a bit on the follow-up mini lecture about the human genome, to tighten it up and to bring it back more effectively to sell the book.
I finally paid for the pro version of Independent Analytics that provides traffic analysis for my website. The free version really provides enough. But I like the system well enough that I wanted to provide support for them to encourage further development. I purchased a permanent license.
My author website is (mostly) the first site I’ve tried to build in WordPress. (Although I did set up a Comic Press site for Doctor Emery’s Nightmares back in the day.) In my previous career, I set up hand-coded websites in HTML and was an expert with Drupal which I used to set up websites for a bunch of organizations. But, when I wanted to build an author site, I decided that WordPress was probably the best fit for what I was trying to do. (In large part because my hosting service, Dreamhost, did the install and does the maintenance for the system. It’s not like I can’t do that for myself, but it means I spend less time worrying about tracking and applying security patches.)
After I set up my website, I was interested in getting usage statistics, but WordPress doesn’t really provide any natively. I looked around a bit and settled on the Independent Analytics plugin as the best fit for my needs. It is attractively designed, provides almost all of the basic functionality that you might want, and has some gentle teasers for advanced functionality you can unlock by purchasing the “pro” version.
The main thing you can do with the pro version, is run “campaigns” that let you collect data to compare and test different approaches. It also provides a very pretty overview dashboard with the basic statistics. It’s probably overkill for what I’m trying to do. But, as I say, the free version is really plenty to provide the basic functionality anyone would want.
I love fountain pens. I don’t actually write by hand much. But when I sell books at conventions, its expected I sign books, so I always make a point of having a nice fountain pen that is appropriately inked before I go.
Several years ago, when I needed to get a new fountain pen, I had gotten a beautiful Jinhao pen with a porcelain barrel with an image of delicate plum blossoms that I’d been extremely pleased with. I looked again a few years later, and couldn’t find the same pen, but I found a similar pen (pictured above) which was absurdly cheap, so I bought two:
When the pens arrived (after about a month, shipped surface via container ship) they were perfectly satisfactory. But I noticed that they had some Chinese script that, interestingly, wasn’t shown in the promotional image. It made me wonder… What does it say? Is it the name of a bank? Does it say “Death to America”? I kept meaning to get it translated but not getting around to it. This morning I finally found time.
I took the picture above and fed it into Google Translate. I usually leave Google Translate set to translate to Japanese and it does provide a translation in Japanese, but what it said seemed rather cryptic:
Mai Muroto Ikatoide
Plum Blossom Palace Jiku Kanta
I set it to Detect Language and let it try again. Then I set it to Chinese (Traditional) to confirm that they were the same:
The sword dance in the room is sharpened by the deer.
Plum Blossom Palace is cold and beautiful.
The first seems like some kind of proverb or saying, but one that the English Internet seems unfamiliar with. Plum Blossom Palace similarly doesn’t seem to return any obvious hits.
So now I know, anyway, for whatever good that does. I still like the pens and it makes people happy to have me use a pretty pen to sign their books.
Representing disability is important in fiction. Many years ago, I saw someone who said that, rather than calling some people “disabled,” we should call everyone else “temporarily abled.” Because if you don’t have a disability now, you will. If you live long enough, almost everyone will go through some period of their life with a disability: a broken foot, gout, a bout of depression, etc. After I was hospitalized, I discovered that I have a disability: a chronic lung condition that limits my life in significant ways.
Today, my wife and I attended a flag raising for Disability Pride Month. The Town Council of Amherst wrote a proclamation and raised a flag to recognize and celebrate people with disabilities. And to commemorate the passage of the Americans with Disabilities Act, which has been transformative for ensuring access for disabled people. It was an opportunity for to me to reflect on the writing I’ve done representing disabled characters. I have several stories that represent characters with disabilities, both physical and mental. But one character stands out.
One of my favorite characters in the Revin’s Heart series is the Professor. Revin’s first meets him when he sees a glider fly from the mountain top of the island where the pirates have their base and land on the beach.
[The glider] skidded to a stop, and then flipped over. Revin, with his sharp eyes, could see someone strapped into the device with a harness.
Revin sprinted down the switchbacks of the trail to the sea. A few of the most athletic pirates got ahead of him by running straight down, bypassing the switchbacks. But five or six of them arrived at more or less the same time to see the man — for they could see now it was a man — with wild white hair and a gray beard scramble out of the harness. But Revin could see something was terribly wrong. The front half of him was crawling out of the harness, but he was leaving his legs behind.
“Aaaa! What’s happened to your legs?” Revin asked in shock.
“Those aren’t my legs,” the man growled. “Those are just for balance.”
“But you don’t have any legs! What happened to your legs?” Revin persisted.
“Airshark got ’em,” the man replied, gravely. “Have you ever seen an airshark? Terrible creatures.”
Revin was dubious. He started to open his mouth, then realized that all of the pirates were standing in a circle, watching his facial expressions, and trying not to laugh. He turned bright, bright red and they exploded with laughter, rolling on the ground. Gently hazing the new cabin boy was a popular pastime among the pirates. And now the strenuous efforts of the pirates to get there ahead of him were explained.
The backstory of how the Professor came to not have legs is never described in the books. Revin discovers soon, however, that the Professor brilliantly supervises the team of pirates that maintains the airship and keeps it airworthy. He uses hand-braces to move around and is clearly a genius inventor, scientist, and engineer. He’s blunt, plain-spoken, and gruff, but you soon learn that he really cares about Revin and the other pirates.
Grip […] sent Revin to the Professor to request he construct a practice sword with similar properties to the real sword. He looked at the sword, then looked at Revin fiercely from under his bushy eyebrows.
“You’re going to get yourself killed if you play with these things,” he grumbled.
“I want to be able to protect my friends,” Revin said.
“Worry about yourself first,” the Professor said. “You can’t help anyone if you’re dead.”
“Please?” Revin said, sweetly.
“Ugh. It’s your funeral,” the Professor said. “We’ll have something for you by tomorrow.”
It isn’t until much later that Revin learns that there’s larger backstory to the Professor than he realizes. They travel together on a secret mission when Revin discovers that the Professor is actually a famous member of the Royal Academy. Everyone in academic circles knows the Professor.
[Revin] stood conferring with the Professor about what to do for the night when someone said, “Professor Grexin? Is that you?”
“Eh?” the Professor said, turning toward the newcomer, a middle‑aged academic wearing University garb.
“It is you!” the man continued excitedly. “You probably don’t remember me: Niles Ender. I saw your talk five years ago on hydrogen generation using algae and we spoke for a bit at the reception that followed. What are you doing back here?”
“I’m just visiting my nephew,” the Professor said, clapping Revin on the back.
“Wow! You must be so proud to have a famous uncle like Professor Grexin!
When they’re attacked by highway men, Revin learns that there is more to the Professor than meets the eye.
Revin and the Professor got ready to sleep. They were about to get into the bedrolls when Art [their coachman] appeared around the corner of the wagon accompanied by two other men. With their swords drawn, they charged toward Revin and the Professor.
Revin drew his sword and put himself en garde. Considering the Professor no threat, Art and the two men bypassed him to attack Revin. Revin began to panic, wondering how he could possibly defend himself against all three of them. Suddenly, the two other men staggered and, with their eyes rolling up in their heads, collapsed. Art looked surprised and distracted at the sudden loss of his allies. Revin lunged forward and caught him in the throat. Art fell over clutching at his neck and expired with blood spurting through his fingers.
Revin stared wild‑eyed at the Professor, who stood with his arm braces raised.
“What just happened?” Revin gasped.
“I keep each of my arm braces loaded with a poisoned dart,” he said. “They must have figured me for no threat. But they were wrong.”
When they arrive at the Hermitage (a research institute), the Professor is again recognized as the famous scholar he is and they are invited to attend a formal dinner, Revin learns yet something new about this enigmatic character. When a toast is proposed that celebrates using science for war, the Professor pours out his glass on the floor and hand-walks out of the room.
With the toast out of the way, Revin was concerned that his lack of knowledge about polite dining would make him stand out. But he needn’t have worried. The scientists couldn’t care less about etiquette and appeared to use forks and spoons randomly — or not at all — which allowed Revin to relax and enjoy the meal. Watching the servants, though, he began to awaken to how easy it was to become complacent about your station in life. And to become complicit in sustaining inequalities. His respect for the Professor went up, to be willing to be true to himself and publicly demonstrate his commitment to his principles. And he began to see how the Professor and Will, a captain of pirates, had found common ground.
The Professor is one of my favorite characters in Revin’s Heart. He continues to show up in the (as yet) unpublished sequels to Revin’s Heart. In Ecorozire, Revin visits the Hermitage, where the Professor has retired after the pirates disbanded.
“How is your second retirement going?” Revin asked.
“Oh, it’s wonderful!” the Professor said. “I just come in, sit around, and argue with people all day.”
“Not getting bored, then?” Will pressed.
“Oh, no. No boredom here!”
“Well, then,” Revin said. “I guess you wouldn’t want to go investigate these mysterious coins with eternite in them.” Revin pulled out the necklace shook it at him
This year, I decided to try to attend the Business Meetings of the World Science Fiction Society (WSFS) to learn more about the organization. I’ve served in numerous other governance roles, so my perspectives here are largely trying to make sense of these new experiences in those contexts. Here are some preliminary observations.
One caveat about my comments. These are simply my personal observations and should be taken with a grain of salt. If anyone has corrections or suggestions, I would welcome comments to help me learn more.
Worldcon, the World Science Fiction Convention (which I’m attending this year) is governed by the World Science Fiction Society. WSFS is basically an entirely volunteer organization that is constituted of the local group that is organizing to put on the Convention each year.
The business meetings use the Lumi virtual meeting platform. Another organization I belong to (the MTA) has used the same platform for their annual meeting. This platform works pretty well. It uses Zoom at the backend, but runs in a browser window, so it is a bit clunky. In practice, however, it works pretty well to provide access to the documents, let you see who is speaking, and offer a seamless voting interface.
Outside of Lumi, they also set up a Discord server for chat while the meetings are going on, with separate channels for on-topic and off-topic discussion. And the obligate channel for pictures of pets, of course.
There are five meetings scheduled: A preliminary meeting, three business meetings, and an in-person site-selection meeting to be held during Worldcon. Unfortunately, I was unable to attend the preliminary meeting. But I did attend the first Business Meeting and it was rather like being thrown into the deep end.
The first business meeting was conducted entirely in executive session. The public agenda was “Report from the Investigation Committee on the 2023 Hugo Awards.” Since the meeting was held in executive session, I can’t discuss the content of the proceedings. But that’s not my goal in this post.
The Presiding Officer is supported by three additional roles. A Parliamentarian advises on points of order, a Timekeeper kept track of time used for debate for and against motions, and an assistant Presiding Officer manages the on-screen presentation. This allows the Presiding Officer to focus on running the meeting without having to refer to external documents or deal with the technology. As someone who’s served as Presiding Officer for many years (of the UMass Amherst Faculty Senate) it looked like the system worked pretty well.
The meetings are highly structured using Robert’s Rules, with very strict time limits established for debate for each of the topics. When the Presiding Officer presented a motion with the proposed time limits and asks the body if they can be accepted without objection. With more than a hundred attendees, basically nothing could accepted without objection. The net result was that we then had to have a formulaic vote on each of the time limits. They all passed handily, of course. So objecting (as is typical) just wasted 10 or 15 minutes of time in the meeting. That’s the goal of Robert’s Rules: to allow the meeting to move forward expeditiously while giving people who object the opportunity to make their objection known, even if that objection is not shared by the majority.
One of my goals in attending the meetings is to get a sense of the key players. Some of the people I’ve heard of before. But many are new to me. You can pretty quickly get a sense for who are the people that respect the process and try to make the best of use time. And those who are there to try to derail the proceedings and gum up the works. It’s the same in every organization.
One of the most peculiar aspects of WSFS is that the organization only “exists” during Worldcon. Each year, people buy a membership in WSFS (as part of attending Worldcon or separately) and there are business meetings in the weeks leading up to the convention. The membership gives you the right to attend the business meetings, to vote in Hugo Awards, and to vote for the following years’ site selections. But there is no leadership or on-going meetings during the rest of the year. Several times (both in the meeting and on the Internet generally) I’ve seen people use this as an excuse for why problems can’t be addressed or solved.
There are typically thousands of attendees at Worldcon (~8,000 in Glasgow in 2024) and even more people who purchase memberships to be able to vote (a total of 10,000 memberships). But there are only about 150 people attending the business meetings. It’s time consuming to learn enough about any organization to understand how it works and participate meaningfully.
I currently have no plans to try to get more involved in the governance of WSFS. I’m already serving as Secretary of SFWA and that’s plenty of service, thank you very much. But I’m always interested to see other models and there are enough connections between SFWA and WSFS that learning more about the organization and the key players seems useful.
For several years, I’ve considered attending LOSCON in Los Angeles. This year, I’m going to go!
A few years ago, I was accepted as a participant, but due to my health circumstances at the time, I declined. I was still recovering from being hospitalized and was only attending conventions where masks were required. Now, almost no conventions still require masks. (Readercon, next weekend, is a welcome exception!) And I have recovered from my hospitalization. Well… As much as I am going to recover. So I’ve decided to apply to LOSCON again.
I’m particularly interested in attending this year because next year’s Worldcon is also going to be in Los Angeles. Many of the relevant people will undoubtedly be at Worldcon this year too (which I’m also attending). But it will be a chance to meet the LA folks specifically.
They asked for proposals for panels, so I drafted one that I haven’t seen at conventions before.
Poetry and Songs in Speculative Fiction
One of the enduring traits of Tolkien was his use of poetry, rhyme, and song as essential characteristics of his world building and the lore of the world he created. This panel will explore innovative uses of the lyrical arts to enhance speculative fiction and some of the challenges of adding this dimension to your works.
I hope the panel is accepted. Many of my own stories have had examples of music and/or poetry (e.g. Better Angels: Tour de Force, Something Else to Do in Modern Magic, and others). I think it would be fun to put a panel together to get authors to talk about the topic.
LOSCON takes place over the Thanksgiving holiday weekend. I’m looking forward to going!
The final(ish) Schedule for Worldcon has come out and I am on the program! My experience with Worldcons seems to be either feast or famine. I had eight appearances as a participant in Chicago, for my first Worldcon, and then was totally declined as a participant for Glasgow. This year, I’m excited to moderate one panel, appear in six more, and I also have a reading. Here is my schedule in chronological order.
Let’s face it, we conduct science in an inherently for-profit environment, which leads to all sorts of biases. How do we work around these built-in barriers to create truly independent science? Without breaking too many laws, of course.
From chapbooks to zines, poetry has a rich history of self-publishing. Whether your goal is merely to get your poems into more hands or to craft an online presence as a poet, this workshop will help you learn how to market, sell, and self-publish your poetry. From blogging to Instagram to Amazon, we’ll dive into the important details of crafting a bestselling poetry collection. Learn how to format poetry, how to find the best distribution sites for poetry books, and how to market a collection from advertising to book reviews.
Nothing in fantasy or sci fi is original (no, don’t rage-quit); it is all amalgamations of things we have seen or heard of. So would we recognize life that is truly alien?
Just because we’re at the top of the food chain doesn’t mean that humans are done evolving. Can we predict what is in the future for our bodies? Which creators’ visions are realistic?
Human’s best friend, best creation, and best companion: What was the evolutionary path of the household dog? Was humanity the worst thing to happen to wolves?
A makerspace is shared workshop or group of workshops where people can use the tools and facilities to work on their own projects. Some are membership-based, and some are in public libraries. Assume that any major city will have at least one. Our panelists will discuss their involvement with makerspaces, what they recommend, and how the user can get the best experience from a makerspace.
A Familiar Problem. Becoming a powerful demon’s familiar might just be the best thing ever. But what’s the catch? Rory Soletsa is supposed to find his magical familiar, but he doesn’t want something trite, like a cat; or stupid, like a bird; or ugly, like a toad. Amazed when he is captured and becomes the familiar to a powerful demon who presents as a voluptuous, beautiful woman, Rory discovers how much more powerful his magic is with her. And he’s ecstatic when the demon tells him she will train him in advanced offensive and defensive magic. But just what is she training him for?
When I attended my first WorldCon, I created some Airship Pirate ribbons to promote the serialization of Revin’s Heart. It was (from my perspective) a wildly successful promotional campaign. It was a huge amount of fun, gave me an ice breaker to discuss my book as people walked by the table in the dealer room, and was surprisingly (to me) gratifying to see dozens of strangers all over the convention wearing my ribbon. Since then, I’ve thinking about what I could do to meet or surpass the standard I set then. I think I may have done it with a new ribbon to promote the Better Angels.
The Better Angels are non-human biological androids. That means that they have no human DNA — they are the product of clean-room biological engineering. They are molecularly assembled to spec, fully grown (well, as pre-teen girls), and have a personality module that has programming to govern their behavior. So, although they look like pre-teen girls, they are not human. They were not born. They don’t grow or develop. And they are programmed with a stack of modules that provide all of the functionality for their behavior, from basic autonomic physiology to language and higher-order behavior. In the case of the Angels, they can be singing-and-dancing pop idols or ruthless, cold-blooded covert-military soldiers (Or more! Read the stories to see what else they can do!)
This time, I’ve created a ribbon people can wear with a space to write in their percentage of “human DNA.” You might ask, “How do you know your own percentage of human DNA?” What a great question! To answer that question, I’ve created an app (well, just a webpage, actually) that analyses your DNA and tells you what percentage is “human.” The Better Angels, of course, have zero percent “human DNA”, but how much do you have? Luckily, the app can tell you!
The 任せて Human DNA Analysis app is simple to operate. You scan a QR code to open the app on your mobile device and tap the fingerprint icon on the screen. The app runs, emits several progress messages, and finally reports your percentage of “human DNA”. Sometimes the first time it runs, it may give you anomalous results. But if you run it a second time (or more), it gives you “more accurate,” precise, and consistent results.
Note the disclaimer at the bottom of the page, however: “Accuracy of 任せて DNA Analysis ±100%”
Also note that, yes, of course I could link the app here. But you’re going to have to come visit me in the dealer room to get the QR code. (smiley-face)
I used to write little web apps like this all the time. For most of my career, I was the Director of the Biology Computer Resource Center at UMass Amherst. I created dozens little web apps for teaching or infrastructure for the Biology Department. But I haven’t done anything like that for a few years. I had to solve a variety of minor technical problems to make it work, and I was tickled to find that I haven’t completely lost my touch.
I invested a fair amount of time investigating what to use as a plausible value of percent human DNA. The simplest answer would have been 99% or something like that. But that wouldn’t have given me a context to talk about the structure of the human genome, which is delightfully weird and complex.
Most people know there are these things called “genes.” And a lot of people know that genes contain the “code” for proteins. When Francis Crick and others “cracked the genetic code” there was great optimism that we would quickly be able to read the “blueprints of life.” But genomic structure turned out to be way, way, way more complicated.
It turns out that only a tiny part (1%-2%) of the DNA in your genome contains coding sequences to make proteins. There are lots of other sequences in there, many of which are still only poorly understood. Each coding sequence is paired with regulatory sequences that control when it is transcribed. There are also bits that code for RNAs that aren’t translated into proteins (transfer RNAs, etc). As much as 8% of your genome includes human endogenous retroviral sequences. Retroviruses (like HIV, varicella-zoster (aka chicken pox), and herpes) have been sticking their DNA into eukaryotic genomes for billions of years. Then there are structural and repetitive sequences, that include things like centromeres, telomeres, and microsatelites, that may comprise as much as 50% of your genome.
Humans are primates and mammals and tetrapods and vertebrates and eukaryotes. The amount of “uniquely human” DNA is actually vanishingly small. Almost all of our genes are literally identical with bonobos (our closest primate relatives) and are functionally identical with all mammals and tetrapods and eukaryotes. Some proteins (like ubiquitin and cytochrome C) have been honed by billions of years of evolution and are virtually identical across all living organisms.
In the end, I met with a couple of professional biologists to ask them what percentage I should report as “human DNA” with the goal of being able to tell a fun story about genomic structure. They were pretty amused by the idea, once they got past the science fictional elements (One said, “What! They don’t go through development!?”), and we agreed to pick something something around 60%.
The ribbons are currently scheduled to be delivered in time that I should have them for Readercon! And I will bring plenty to Worldcon. (Well, a goodly number, anyway. These things don’t grow on trees, after all.) I’m excited, because I suspect they’ll be a hit and, when people see others wearing them, they’ll want to stop by the table to get one of their own. And, who knows, maybe even pick up a book!
So if you’re coming to Readercon or Worldcon, come find me at the Water Dragon Publishing table and get your DNA analyzed.
I call this “fluffy military space opera”. It’s about a group of non-human biological androids that look like pre-teen girls and act as a magical-girl singing-and-dancing troupe, but they can change up their programming and become a covert military force.
“That sounds fantastic!” the girl said.
“I should tell your mother,” I said, “that although this book doesn’t have adult themes, it does have some violence. The contrast between the Angels being cute little girls and ruthless killers, when they turn on their soldier programming, is what the Japanese call ‘gap-moe’ and is what I was going for as an author.”
“Oh, violence is just fine,” the girl said. “I read that all the time.”
“But do you have ten dollars?” her mother said.
The little girl’s little sister piped and said, “She has a HUNDRED DOLLARS.”
“No, she doesn’t,” her mother said.
“But, Mom!” the little girl protested, as her mother dragged her away.
June was super busy, with the Nebula Conference and the two Pride bookselling events. July looks to be quieter. There are a bunch of events I could have attended, but I’m currently only scheduled to go to Readercon. Look for me in the dealer room where I will, again, be running the tables for Water Dragon and Small Publishing in a Big Universe.
If you’re an author planning to attend Readercon and you don’t have a place to sell books, there is probably still time to request a spot at the Small Publishing in a Big Universe table. It costs very little and gives you a place to tell people to buy your books. Plus you can stand behind the table yourself to meet with readers and sign copies. It doesn’t work so well for authors who are not in attendance but, if you’re there in person, you can really make a lot of sales that way.
I was so busy in June, I didn’t get much writing done at all. Some people can snatch moments here and there to write. For me that can work alright for the little story fragments that I write for #wss366, but it doesn’t work for making progress on my serious writing projects. I did, finally, get back to writing in the past week and wrote the final, climactic scene of one of the storylines in The Ground Never Lies. I had been putting it off for months. Now I only have one or two world-building scenes left to write and then I can try to merge the two storylines. After that, I hope to pass it off to my trusty beta readers to see if the whole thing hangs together. It will need a lot of revising, but July should be perfect for that.
In August, I will be attending Worldcon in Seattle. The schedule has not been finalized, but my draft schedule looks great. I’m currently scheduled for seven panels (serving as moderator on one) and a reading. The reading is from my forthcoming book A Familiar Problem which has been delayed since January. I’m really hopeful it will be out in time for Worldcon. (Of course, I also really hoped it would be out for Boskone and Watch City and the Nebula Conference and Readercon, but… Well… Sigh…)
I finally bought our plane tickets. The most convenient airport for us is Bradley, in between Hartford and Springfield. It’s nice because it’s a somewhat smaller airport and only half the distance to Boston. But Boston tends to have more direct flights. When I fly to Europe, I’ve usually flown out of Boston. I did a search and found that there were no non-stop flights to Seattle from Bradley. There were two from Boston. When I checked, however, they were operated by Alaska Airlines and the cost was nearly twice as much as having one stop. So, we’re flying out of Bradley.
After Worldcon, I will be busy with family and then getting ready for the fall. The fall… Sigh… I have to teach the writing class two more times (in Fall and Spring) and then I will finally be able to retire and be done with working. Then I can dedicate myself to writing full time. I’m really glad I did the phased retirement, but I’m looking forward to wrapping it up.
I was interested to read this interview with Peter Thiel because, although I’ve heard a lot about him and his stupid ideas, I’ve never actually seen what he has to stay for himself. It turns out that he’s an idiot — at least about science.
He’s basically the kind of person who, when the TV isn’t working right, believes in percussive maintenance — that is, to whack it a few times and see if that makes it work better. He basically supported bringing in Trump to whack the United States a few times and see if it starts to work better. His thinking is that, if it starts working better then great. And if it doesn’t, you just throw it out and buy a new one. I mean, it doesn’t really matter to HIM if a bunch of people that depend on government services die or whatever. But, rather than pushing this analogy any further, let’s look what he actually said.
His basic critique is that our society — science in particular — has become stagnant or, minimally, is offering only diminishing returns:
There are intellectual questions: How many breakthroughs are we having? How do we quantify these things? What are the returns of going into research?
There certainly are diminishing returns to going into science or going into academia generally. Maybe this is why so much of it feels like a sociopathic, Malthusian kind of an institution, because you have to throw more and more and more at something to get the same returns. And at some point, people give up and the thing collapses.
There are a couple of inter-related problems with his assertion. The first is that current science is just a lot more complicated than people in previous generations expected. If you read people around the time of Crick and Watson, everyone thought that, since we’d “cracked the code” of DNA, we would simply be able to read the “blueprint of life”. As we know now, it was not nearly so simple, with introns and exons and non-coding sequences and RNA processing and endogenous viral elements and epigenetic effects and many, many other complicating factors that people had no idea of in those earlier times. And complicated science leads to the second problem: it’s a lot more expensive and we’ve defunded the government and education.
If you note when all of these breakthroughs were happening, it was during a time when the United States was taxing the highest incomes at 90% and investing a lot of that money in growing higher education. That money was gradually choked off and before Trump researchers were spending most of their time applying for funding. Rather than, you know, actually doing research. That’s why things weren’t going any faster than they were. And now that there’s NO FUNDING, there’s no chance of doing the research at all.
Furthermore, the slow, patient work of science has made astonishing breakthroughs which he seems to completely neglect. We have made astonishing breakthroughs on cancer. Cancer used to be a death sentence. Now, there are a lot of cancers that we can simply cure. And the rate of progress has been accelerating — at least until we let Peter Thiel and his moron surrogates defund the NIH.
It’s impossible to quantify how many people are doing to die because of what Trump has done. Even worse, it’s probably going to take generations to recover — if science in the United States ever does. Labs that lose funding probably won’t ever recover. A lot of the people that were doing the work will move to other countries or other lines of work. A lot of people that were going to go into science now never will. We’ve lost momentum we will probably never regain.
I spent the weekend of June 21 and 22 selling books at two events. I had applied and been accepted to participate in the Queer Artisan Market back in late May. But then in the middle of June, there was was a flurry of activity to organize the first Amherst pride parade in just a couple of weeks. I volunteered to sell books at the rally after the parade and got accepted to that as well.
Before I went, I checked the books I had on hand. I had copies of my own books, Revin’s Heart and Better Angels: Tour de Force plus two or three copies of six other titles — Water Dragon has an extensive selection of LGBTQIA+ books in their pride collection. I reached out to see if I could get a few more titles. Unfortunately, he wanted to hold back the stock he had for BayCon, so I just went with what I had.
I also printed out a bunch of extra copies of my Islands of Revin’s Heart and Better Angels ‘zines. I spent the time in the booth, after I set up but before things got busy, folding them up. It’s a nice, relaxing thing to do. And people really seem to enjoy taking copies of the ‘zines with them. I don’t know how many people actually buy the books after taking one, but I figure they can’t hurt.
The very first time I sold books was at the 2022 Queer Pop-up Market at the Mill District in North Amherst (just down the street from my home). I only had the first two novelettes of Revin’s Heart, with the third (of seven) about to come out. I didn’t have any of the kit for selling books yet. But I had a great time meeting potential readers and sold enough to be encouraged. Now, I’ve got everything I need and have become an old hand at loading in and setting up.
Over the years, the market has evolved into an artisan market. It was canceled in 2023 (due to weather, I think) and I was declined a spot in 2024. But this year, I had booth number 1. They have gotten their organization down to a fine art. Everything was laid out nicely for my arrival. I was able to back my car up to my spot and got my son to help me unload everything and set up in just a few minutes.
The market was lively in spite of hot weather. The booth next to me sold crocheted animals, including a lot of molluscs. There were jewelry makers, a booth with fancy lemonade, printmakers, and many other awesome booths. I was the only bookseller.
It took me a few tries to develop an effective tour of the table that let me pitch the books most effectively. I sold out of one of the books before noon. But I still had at least one copy of all the rest at the end of the day.
Over night, it rained very hard and was still raining in the morning in advance of the Pride Parade. I watched the radar, trying to decide whether to go. Books don’t do well in the rain. But there was a message from the organizers saying that the rain was predicted to end at 9:30. Sure enough, the rain ended and I headed to common to set up.
I was a little worried because it was the first time they’d run the event. Information about setting up had been sketchy. They didn’t have assigned locations. But I pulled up, grabbed the spot closest to where I was parked, and — after spreading a plastic drop-cloth on the grass— I was able to set up.
It was quiet for the first couple of hours until the parade arrived at the common. Then it got super busy. I ended up selling about twice as many books as I had the previous day in a much shorter period of time. I still had a few books left at the end of the day, but I had sold out of several things and what was left fit in a single box.
I should look into other pride events around the region to sell books at. I like the community and excitement of pride events. They’re fun and welcoming.
Although I had attended the SFWA Nebula Conference previously as a virtual attendee, 2025 was the first year I went to the face-to-face conference. For me, it was the capstone of a three-week-long road trip with my son. We attended a wedding, then visited my brother for week, and finally continued onto the Nebulas in Kansas City. We had a great time.
Before the conference, the SFWA Board had a two-day retreat to talk about strategic planning. This has been a priority of mine as a new board member. Until the Nebulas, we’d been largely in crisis management mode, after the loss of the leadership and staff last summer. This retreat gave us the opportunity to dedicate enough time for some extended discussions about where we think the organization should go
It was also my first opportunity to meet most of the principals of SFWA. I had only met one of the other board members previously, other than via Zoom. Zoom is great for meetings, but it doesn’t provide much opportunity for side-conversations. I also got to meet the staff, including the new executive director that we just hired. More about that below
Note: this is not any kind of official report and represents only my personal impressions of what we did over the two days of meetings.
We began broadly by reviewing SFWA’s mission statement. Then we cast a broad net and began to consider how to more concisely sum up what we want SFWA to be. After an hour and a half, we had a working statement to use as the basis for further discussion to start developing our strategic plan.
SFWA does a lot of things. From the estates and legacy program to the writing dates. From the givers grant to the emergency medical fund. From the contract committee to griefcom. We tried to list out all of the programs that SFWA currently manages. It’s a long list. Then we tried to put the activities in categories: development, membership, communications, internal support, and programming. Finally, we tried to develop a set of priorities to help us understand what we want to accomplish in the coming year.
In the afternoon, we focused primarily on discussing the membership program, so we could talk about the other aspects (development, communications, and internal support) with the staff that would be attending the following day. We identified three areas to prioritize and then split up into breakout groups to develop plans for each of the three areas with action steps. After we shared out the results, we adjourned for the day.
On the second day, the board met again, this time together with all of the staff and volunteers for introductions. Unlike the Board, where we had been meeting via Zoom, I mostly hadn’t interacted with others except via email or Discord, so it was nice to be able to associate a face with a name. We had a brief discussion with the new executive director to describe what we had accomplished during the strategic planning. Finally, we had a brief official board meeting and, among other things, voted to accept a proposal for the proposal for the location of next year’s Nebula conference.
When I got home after the conference, I had a one-on-one onboarding meeting with the new executive director. I had an opportunity to discuss what my goals are for SFWA. We had a frank discussion where I had a chance to share my perspective. I’m really impressed by her acumen and approach. I think she’s going to be a great addition to the organization.
I’m very encouraged for the coming year. We developed some good, concrete plans for improving the organization. We are fully staffed with great people. The leadership team looks to be stable for the coming year with fantastic new people coming in board in July. I think we have successfully weathered the crisis and the sky’s the limit going forward.
I’ve already signed up to attend the Nebula Conference in 2026. It’s going to be in the Chicago area. Through June 30, early bird registration is available at a reduced rate. Since it’s in the midwest, I can probably combine it with a visit to my brother again. I hope to see you next year in Chicago!
After a long chilly spring, the weather has finally turned hot. And hot weather requires hot salsa.
A few restaurants I visited, especially in the southwest, had great salsa or — if you were lucky — fresh pico-de-gallo. Most of the salsa I found in our local grocery store, however, was disappointing. I think I must have tried every kind of fresh or bottled salsa over the years, looking for the right one. Little did I know how easy it was to make your own salsa. Here’s my recipe:
Ingredients
1 large can of petite-diced tomatoes
1 red onion, diced
2 jalapeño peppers, finely chopped
several sprigs of cilantro, coarsely chopped
1 big squirt of bottled lime juice (maybe two or three limes worth)
salt to taste
Directions
Dump the can of tomatoes in a plastic storage container, add the onions, jalapeños, cilantro, lime juice, and salt. Mix.
That’s it. That’s all you have to do. None of the proportions are really important. Just use a smaller can of tomatoes to make a smaller batch. But, honestly, why would you ever do that?
It does get better if you let it sit for a while. But, on a hot day, ain’t nobody got time for that.
At the Nebula Conference this year, Kat Brehm organized a live-action slush reading panel. She said this has been a dream of hers for several years and she was super excited to pull it off. She got Scott Edelman and Erin Roberts to read the openings to manuscripts (the first 500 words) and had a panel of slush readers who were to raise their hand when they were ready to reject a manuscript. And once three raised their hands, the reading stopped and she asked the slush readers to explain why they had rejected the manuscript (or why not). I decided to submit a piece to the event and attended the panel.
It was interesting to see what the slush readers liked and didn’t like. To be honest, I couldn’t always tell the difference between the things they gushingly extolled and the things they rejected out of hand. A common factor was starting the story at the wrong place: they sometimes thought a story had too much set up, but frequently were willing to tolerate (what seemed to me) like. a vast amount of set up if they liked something or were intrigued by something.
Obviously, it was about striking a balance. Some had too much worldbuilding. Some had not enough worldbuilding. Sometimes reviewers agreed and sometimes they disagreed.
Their responses were also calibrated to what kind of submission it was: short stories needed an immediate hook while they were willing to let a novel start more slowly, acknowledging there was time to let the action develop,
My piece didn’t fare very well. It wasn’t the worst (which was someone who used a mirror trope that got universally rejected within the first two sentences.) But mine was rejected before half way through.
The first reader rejected it almost before the narrator started reading. They said it was “not the type of story they vibe with.” Two or three more raised their hands at more-or-less the same moment about halfway through. Most of their comments didn’t really tell me anything I don’t already know about my writing.
The goal of my opening was to present what I thought might appear as a conventional (perhaps even cliched) scenario and then take it a different direction with a twist. But all of the slush readers simply rejected it as appearing too conventional. They never got to the twist because they didn’t give it a chance. That’s really useful for me to know about slush readers. I’ve been a slush reader before (though not very much) and one of my goals was to try to actually get through a story unless it was really intolerably bad. But that was my privilege, since I don’t have to do it very often.
Another comment they made was that the language was too ordinary or matter-of-fact. This is an intentional stylistic choice I make. I hate flowery, literary writing. It gets in the way of me being able to enjoy a story. So I strive for relatively simple, prosaic prose. But I can see that, at least these, slush readers would prefer something that sounds less ordinary.
Finally, one or two slush readers pointed out that they want to know more about the protagonist’s feelings — to have more interiority. Again, this is a stylistic choice I make (which I’ve described elsewhere). Since we can’t get inside other people’s heads and only ever hear our own thoughts, Unless I’m writing in first person, I much prefer to write about things are observable: people’s words and actions. But it’s obviously out of step with what these slush readers were expecting. Or, rather, what they were looking for. They probably expect most manuscripts to be terrible, which is why they don’t bother to read more than a few sentences before rejecting them.
This isn’t really a surprise to me. I know that the stuff I write isn’t what a lot of editors are looking for. But I like it. And I was disappointed that people didn’t even get to the twist to see where the story was going. It’s given me some useful perspective to figure out what to consider going forward. But it leaves me with a question.
How much should I try to change my writing to satisfy others? If they’d read the whole story, I expect they’d have a bunch of other complaints about my writing. I don’t like a traditional three-act story structure either. I’m not big on the whole “dark night of the soul” thing. I like more episodic fiction with different kinds of pacing and stakes.
I really appreciated John Wiswell’s comments in his Nebula acceptance speech. He described being rejected again and again and again until he gave up. Then he really doubled down, quit trying to satisfy editors or agents, and wrote something as “weird and neurodivergent” as himself. Thanks, John.
The SFWA Nebula Conference is coming right up (June 6 and 7, 2025). Although I’ve attended remotely before, I’m attending this year in person for the first time. I will be appearing at two events on Friday, June 6th: a “Meet and Greet” at 4pm CDT with William Ledbetter, Greg Leunig, and Michael Capobianco and a Networking Reception from 8 to 11pm.
I have also been invited to serve during the award ceremony as a “runner,” that will guide people to the stage during the event. When I was asked if was willing to do that, I pointed out that I would be happy to, as long as it didn’t actually involved any running, as I will be wearing a mask and walking slowly with a staff. I was assured that would be fine, and so I said I would be happy to serve.
Prior to the conference, the SFWA Board will have a retreat to discuss strategic planning. Anyone who’s been reading my blog will be unsurprised by my focuses: restoring normal functioning, increasing fundraising, and improving member retention. To accomplish the last two, I think we need to improve publicity and outreach. SFWA does a lot of great stuff, but people don’t always know what we’re doing.
I really do appreciate many of the things that SFWA offers. I particularly take advantage of the Writing Date for socialization and networking (though a little less since I run my own similar event for the Straw Dog Writers Guild). Writer Beware is a particularly useful useful service. The information about contracts and publishing have been extremely helpful. And I appreciate the SFWA community as a resource to learn about craft of writing, the publishing landscape, to learn about new projects, and to hear scuttlebutt.
I find I’m a little more nervous heading to this convention than I usually am. I think this is because I’m a little more concerned than usual about making a good impression. I’m going to be meeting a lot of people that I’ll be working with for the next couple of years as Secretary. But everyone involved in SFWA leadership has been fantastic to work with so far, so I’m not really worried — just a little nervous.
When I was a kid, I started walking with a staff as a walking stick. My family lived in a forest in southwest Michigan. My brother Philip had a friend, Richard Molenaar, and they were always doing all kinds of creative fictional things, making fantastical maps and stories and artwork. At one point, they constructed an imaginary religion and used a wind-thrown tree in the forest as their “Temple of the Staff.” I liked imitating things that my older brother was doing, so I cut a staff too and started walking with it. In those days, I usually cut a staff of ironwood (Ostrya virginiana), which I would often mark with runes.
I had learned to make runes when I read The Hobbit in fourth grade. Tolkien had adapted futhorc runes when he created the dwarven map and I had reverse engineered them once I realized that it was just a substitution cipher of the English text from the book. My friends and I exchanged all of our notes in class in runic when I was in high school, so I was quite proficient at writing in runic, once upon a time. It worked really well, although one time I wrote the note in Spanish and my friend (who was studying French) was very puzzled when he tried to read it.
Years later, when I moved back to Michigan for graduate work, I decided to cut a small red oak (Quercus rubra) tree in the forest and made two staves. I peeled the bark just at the top on each and, on one for myself, I carved an S rune and, on one for my wife, I carved an A rune. I still have those staves, thirty years later. I used them only occasionally for most of that time but, when I fell on the ice several years ago, I injured my right knee. Since then, I’ve found using a walking aid helpful, and so I’ve taken to using a staff pretty much any time I have to walk for more than a few blocks.
The staves are pretty long — around five feet — so they don’t really fit conveniently in the car. When we began our road trip, it became clear, I couldn’t bring either of my existing staves, so I decided I would undertake to make a new staff while en route.
When we arrived at Phil’s apartment, I mentioned my plan and inquired whether there might be a good place to cut a staff. He said that he had a number of walking sticks already that I could borrow to see if any might be right. One was from the Kalamazoo Nature Center, but it was too short. Another was a big crooked piece of osage orange driftwood. It was closer to what I wanted in height, but just wasn’t a good fit.
We puzzled for a while about where to cut a staff but we couldn’t come up with a place where it would really be appropriate to do that. So I fell back on my plan B: to look for a wooden handle at a hardware store that I could adapt to be a staff.
We went to a local hardware store to see what was available. They had axe handles and shovel handles, but they were all too short. Push broom handles were longer, but too narrow. There were dowels, but they were also too short. There was a really long piece of heavier wood, but it was so long there was no way to carry it in the car. A wheelbarrow handle was long enough, but the bottom two-thirds was squared off, making the whole thing a bit cumbersome and heavy. There were a bunch of other cylindrical objects that we joked about making into a staff: water pipe insulation (not rigid enough). Florescent light bulbs (too brittle). Eventually we gave up. I nearly resorted to going to one of the large chain stores, but Phil remembered another local hardware store and, after we looked there, we found a dust mop handle that had a metal part at the end (to hold the dust mop), but which was otherwise about the right length, diameter, and heaviness. Plus, it was absurdly cheap (like $10). We bought some rubber feet and took it home to work on it.
I wanted to decorate it a bit and had been thinking about how to do it as we investigated the various possibilities. I considered buying a dremel motor tool and routing out some runes, but that was a bit more expensive than I had bargained for. Phil suggested wood burning. He had an old woodburning kit he had gotten as a teenager that he’d been carrying around for fifty years. So, after cutting off the metal head and sticking on a rubber foot, we got out the woodburning kit and I gave it a try.
I wanted to put on a rune, or runes. When I had carved runes before, it was enough work that I just put on a single rune at the top. But with the wood burning kit, I aimed to do three runes to spell out SDB. I looked through the various tips and selected one that was rather like a standard screwdriver. It worked admirably to made wide, even strokes for runes. Then, I added a diamond-shaped mark between the B and the S, to make it clear in what order the runes were to be read. But then the rest of the staff looked very plain, so I considered adding more runes.
I experimented making small runes with the wood burning tool. By pressing the tip into the wood, I could easily make small line segments and, from those, I could construct runes. Putting one above another, I could make the stem and then I could add two more to make a T or an A rune. But a D rune required like 8 little segments and was so hard to keep aligned that the result wasn’t really readable. So I decided to cheat: I went to the store and bought a pack of fine-point sharpies and so I could just write the runes in several colors.
I decided to have the text spiral around the staff. I wound a piece of masking tape around and around the staff and then wrote out the words of La Vojo in runes going down, above the tape in black, and then back up below the tape in red. It only took me about 40 minutes of focused effort and, although the runes are little scribbly, I’m quite satisfied with the result, which is very mystical.
On Saturday, Phil’s Historical European Martial Arts group was tabling at their local farmer’s market. I went along and took my staff. Even before I was introduced, my staff was an object of great fascination, which I found quite gratifying. And it serves its primary purpose, as a walking aid, very admirably.
One of many advantages of being an academic is having the time to travel. Two years ago, my son and I went on a summer road trip to BayCon. With the end of the current semester, we’ve embarked on a new adventure.
I’ve had the good fortune to travel widely over my life. The experiences of many of the places I’ve visited have featured in my writing. Here are just a few:
Drenched with sweat and coated with dust, bouncing along on a wagon behind a tractor, stacking bales of hay under the hot sun.
An ancient Roman aqueduct, with a double row of arches, spanning a valley and still delivering fresh water thousands of years after construction.
The gritty, polluted atmosphere of São Paulo. Doors with multiple locks. Windows barred. Every big truck with a small follower car, a plastic dome in the roof that can pop off and, inside, several heavily-armed burly men.
The desert southwest of the United States with red rocks contrasting the dark green of the piñon pine and juniper. Scattered potsherds everywhere. Cool canyons with cottonwoods and huge tree frogs that are invisible until you spot one and then realized you were surrounded.
Climbing above the treeline of a high mountain pass with the sky all around and snow still in the shadows of the peaks. Beautiful alpine flowers blooming in the sunlight.
Thermal features steaming in a barren plain with twisted grey dead trees scattered across the landscape. The omnipresent smell of brimstone.
The golden sand of a tropical beach and the ocean in three or four shades of blue. Waves breaking over the distant reef, with huge cumulus clouds riding the trade winds out to sea.
Driving through mile and mile of sprawl — strip malls and auto dealerships — only to enter the boarded up decrepit buildings of an old downtown swallowed by the sprawl, and re-emerging on the other side to miles of further sprawl on the other side.
Standing at the rusty metal border fence, outside the United States, looking in, while armed border control guards drive white SUVs back and forth, watching — always watching.
Rolling through the run-down backside of the metropolis by rail, then diving underground into a subterranean warren of grimy cement pillars dimly glimpsed though uncertain light as the train rolls into Grand Central Station.
On a dirt road, trying to bicycle back onto the map. Racing a summer thunderstorm moving in from the west, and arriving at a country store just as the first drops start to fall. Lightning. Thunder. The power goes out.
Walking through a seemingly pristine forest, only to discover an old rail grade, piles of mine tailings, and old cellar holes, to remind you that, less than 200 years ago, the entire region was clearcut and occupied. Now abandoned.
I’ve posted previously about using geomorphology and botany for settings in fiction. Of course, it’s not just the physical and biological characteristics that make a setting. The people in a place are also essential components: How they look. How they dress. How they speak. How they interact. Plus the economic circumstances and level of development. And the cultural institutions and their manifestations in the landscape: houses, businesses, churches, government buildings, and their architectural styles.
When I first tried to write, I found myself frequently drawing from literary sources for my imaginary settings. But the longer I’ve lived, and the more places I’ve visited, I find my own recollections are so much more vivid and nuanced, that they are my primary source for constructing settings.
My current adventure has already taken me several new places I’ve not visited before. We spent several days in Asheville for a wedding and then drove through the Smoky Mountains, through Tennessee and Kentucky, to Illinois. Next week, we’ll go to the SFWA Nebula Conference in Kansas City. I look forward to all of the new experiences to come. Don’t be surprised if there are some new settings in my writing in the coming years!
I visited the Leverett Peace Pagoda today. It’s only a short drive from Amherst. You park at the bottom and walk up the mountain for around a quarter mile. It’s always an opportunity for quiet reflection. It is one of many pagodas constructed after Hiroshima and Nagaski by a Buddhist order dedicated to opposing nuclear weapons.
I can’t remember when I first discovered the Peace Pagoda. I probably hadn’t been living in the Pioneer Valley for more than a year or two. At the top, there is the amazing pagoda with gold statues at the cardinal points. Nearby, there’s a little pond with an island in the middle. Just beyond, built in the foundation of an older temple that was destroyed by fire, there is a little zen gravel garden. Usually, there are several strings of multi-colored prayer flags fluttering in the breeze. The pond is covered with lily pads and has frogs, tadpoles, minnows, and newts. It’s the among the most peaceful places I’ve ever visited.
Over the nearly 30 years I’ve been visiting, a number of changes have occurred. Over many years, they built new temple near the pagoda. There is a new area near the pond dedicated by and to native American people. A number of new monuments have been erected. There are number of new buildings and residences on the road up to the pagoda. But the message of the pagoda is the same.
At some point, I started writing haibun in Esperanto about interesting places in the Pioneer Valley. In 2010, I published Patro kaj Filo ĉe Sukerpanmonto (Father and Son Visit Mount Sugarloaf). Three years later, I published Spuroj sub Franc-Reĝa Ponto (Tracks Under French King Bridge). And in 2014, Morto… kaj vivo en Amherst, Masacuseco (Death… and Life in Amherst, Massachusetts), a haibun about a visit to the Emily Dickinson homestead, that tied for second place in the Belarta Konkurso. I had always intended to follow it up with a haibun about the Peace Pagoda. I made notes and had started writing it, but it was around that time that I had my falling out with the Esperanto movement. And I pretty much quit doing anything with Esperanto.
I think the last time I visited the Peace Pagoda was shortly after I got out of the hospital. I wasn’t well enough to make the climb, so I drove up and parked near the top. This time, I made the climb on foot. With my reduced lung capacity, it’s a struggle. But I had my walking stick and walked slowly, while other people passed me on the climb. Going back down was also difficult. I injured a knee in a fall maybe 10 years ago and doing downhill is painful. But I used my stick, took small steps, and made it back down.
It was a glorious day in the sunshine at the top. I sat to enjoy the view, walked around the little island, and was inspired to write a haiku.
pinpinglo falas / a pine-needle falls
aliĝas la aliaj… / and joins the others…
jam mararmeo / already a flotilla
As I was getting ready to leave, I ran into another old man at the announcement board getting ready to mow the lawn. He mentioned a ceremony planned for early June. I thanked him and said I had been coming for nearly 30 years and it was nice to see the changes and on going commitment of the community. He said he’d been coming for nigh on 30 years himself. “It doesn’t seem we’re getting any closer to peace, though,” I said. We shook our heads sadly and parted.
For the week before the Watch City Steampunk Festival, I kept checking the forecast and trying to decide what to do. There was rain predicted the day before, but the forecast kept changing: some days, it seemed like it would clear up before the festival opened. And other times, it looked like it would be a washout. The night before, I decided that I would just have to drive there and make an assessment.
I had thought there would be another attending author. I’d met him previously at Readercon was hopeful he’d come early enough to help me set up. But it turned out he actually couldn’t attend. I was luckily able to recruit my son to go with me to help with load out, load in, and to give me breaks to use the facilities.
My son and I got up at 5am for the two-hour drive to Waltham. Normally, the drive would be a half-hour shorter, but it was slower driving in the rain. When we arrived, light rain was still falling. But looking at the radar made me think that the heaviest of the rain was over. The radar image was fascinating: the storm was rotating counter-clockwise, almost like a hurricane, very nearly centered on Waltham. But most of the heaviest bands of rain were to the north and the whole system was moving slowly northeast.So we started unloading. We set up the canopy and the table, put up the banner, and brought just a minimal subset of books to display.
My wife looked at the picture and said we should have lowered the banner and/or raised the table cloth. She tracked down the picture from last year to show me how it looked before. I said that Daniel and I had agreed that the weather had left us “rain damaged.”
Business was slow all morning. A few people stopped to look, but nobody bought anything. It continued to rain and was chilly, with temps only in the low 50s. I put on a heavier coat and my gloves. But, little by little, the sun began to peek out and the festival became more lively. And sales picked up.
I hadn’t brought a wide selection. In addition to what was listed there, I brought Romancing the Rainbow, my books of haiku, and a few other things. But a lot of people buying books here had seen me before — either last year at Watch City or at Readercon, Arisia, or Boskone. When I had signed up to do Watch City, I thought I’d have a new book out. But it’s been delayed. I had hoped it would be out in June, but now looks like it may be delayed yet again. In any case, several people said they already had either Revin’s Heart and/or Better Angels: Tour de Force, so their choices were pretty limited. One young woman, who already had Revin’s Heart bought a copy of Romancing the Rainbow. A young man, with his parents, was very interested in Revin’s Heart but really liked the bundle of novelettes, so his parents paid the extra $10 to buy him the bundle. A young woman was interested in the Esperanto books, saying her dad spoke Esperanto. She bought him a copy of Premitaj Floroj. A young man, who had been a student employee of mine ten years ago, remembered himself to me and took a card, so he could order a book. I gave away a lot of cards.
Another vendor stopped by to ask me how we did. I indicated that sales had been lackluster. He said he’d done very well: he’d sold 24 copies of his new release. He made encouraging comments about small-press and indie publishing.
A lot of people were puzzled by the “Small Publishing in a Big Universe” moniker. Once they heard what it was, they agreed it sounded like a great idea. One woman mentioned the Independent Publishers of New England that is conceptually similar. I should look into them some more. She mentioned upcoming events I might consider.
After we packed up, we drove to Dirigible Brewing for dinner and a beer. The weather by then was perfect. Still cool, but sunny and pleasant for drive home.
I was excited to be offered a place on the program at Worldcon in Seattle, but recent events about Worldcon have left me in a quandary. I will probably still attend, but I’m dismayed and discouraged by what’s happening.
I first attended Worldcon in 2023. I applied to be a participant with little expectation of getting on the program, and was very surprised when I ended up with eight appearances. I applied again in 2024 and, expecting to be selected, made all of my arrangements to travel internationally to Glasgow. When I was not selected, I decided — at significant expense — to cancel all of my arrangements. So, when I applied for this year in Seattle, I wasn’t sure what to expect.
I filled out the interest form to be a participant in October. In January, I was very excited to be invited to be a participant. And, in early April, I had the opportunity to fill out the panel selection survey, to propose myself for particular roles. And then, just before May, the Worldcon Chair issued a statement, followed by an apology, and then a clarifying statement, about the use of ChatGPT, a generative AI Large Language Model (LLM) in the participant selection process, that included the actual ChatGPT prompt they used to investigate participants.
Basically, they tried to use ChatGPT to assess potential participants (who were identified by name to the system) for disqualifying attitudes, statements, and behaviors. The system collected information and provided it for review, along with an assessment of the suitability of each name.
The reaction of the speculative fiction community was swift and almost universally negative. A few people have tried to speak up for the organizers, but most expressed outrage. A number of prominent people have withdrawn as volunteers and participants. Or even pulled their works from consideration for awards.
Large Language Models are reviled in the writing community for many reasons: they have been unethically developed, frequently exhibit bias, and are known to “hallucinate” false information. Moreover, they represent an existential threat to the writing community, if their corporate masters are allowed to profit from the unethical use of the source materials that were used to train them.
Others, with more expertise, have written about the shortcomings of using Generative AI in general, and ChatGPT in particular, for this purpose. Both the choice of tool and the nature of the prompt meant that the results would be potentially biased and untrustworthy.
Many people ran the prompt on their own name to see what their report looked like. Out of curiosity, I finally decided to do that too, to see what they would have found when they investigated me. The report about me was banal with no wildly incorrect information. (I could speculate at length about why, but the reasons aren’t really germane to this discussion.)
I have written about my grave concerns about the use of generative AI and that fact that I do not personally use “AI” for anything. I had previously never used ChatGPT. And I regret having given into my curiosity to use it now.
My overall reaction has been dismay. Worldcon was already going to be thinly attended due to the unsafe conditions traveling to — or even within — the United States for many people. Now, even more people are canceling their plans to attend for this unforced error.
My initial hope was that they would reject the work done by AI — the fruit of the poison tree — and redo the participant selection process — even it meant I risked being denied a spot on the program. But, unfortunately, they seem to have doubled-down on retaining the work done to date.
So, I’m left with a quandary. I don’t plan to take any immediate action. I don’t even know if I’ve been selected to appear on any panels. And I have other obligations to fulfill at Worldcon: My publisher has applied to sell books there — presumably including my forthcoming book. Furthermore, as Secretary of SFWA, I would like the opportunity to meet with and coordinate with my colleagues. But I’m left dismayed and discouraged. And deeply unsettled.
For a couple of years, I’ve been, off and on, working on a new book: The Ground Never Lies. It’s about a geomancer with an anger problem who has come to believe she is unloveable, but discovers a capacity for love she didn’t know she had.
As I wrote the story, I realized that I couldn’t tell the story with a single time line. I wrote the “present day” timeline first, and then went back and started writing an earlier timeline that explains how she has come to the conclusion that she is unloveable — and explains how she developed her other abilities and skills.
Now that these are both (mostly) written, I need to somehow marry them together. As a first step, I’ve begun to carefully separate the two narratives into individual scenes. As I’ve done this, I’ve had a surprising realization: I suck at writing “scenes.” I have a tendency to just write the story. Maybe if I had ever had any instruction in writing, someone might have explained that stories can have “structure” and you can use it “intentionally.” Oh, well. Live and learn.
Now that I’m doing it, it’s giving me new insight into how to organize each scene and give each a dramatic arc that leads naturally from one to the next. Fascinating! What an idea!
