I will be attending Arisia for only one day in 2025: Sunday, January 19. Originally, I had planned to attend for the full weekend, but our application for tables in the dealer room was declined and the hotel filled up too early for me to arrange lodging so, although I’d been scheduled for panels on Saturday, I had to decline two really interesting panels and will be unable to offer a reading. But I’m really looking forward to participating on Sunday.

Everyone I know is worried. They’re wondering what they can do, given the incoming federal administration that will put immense pressure on marginalized people and the norms and values of our country. There is no simple answer to this question. Recently I wrote about strategies my university is considering. These are all well-and-good, but what do they mean in terms of action? There’s a lot we can do.

My first suggestion is to do no harm. The biggest challenge to maintaining a fragile coalition is to avoid turning on one another. Our opponents will look for ways to divide us. They know, for example, that Israel/Palestine is a fracture plane in our coalition. They will use inflammatory language to try to get different sides to turn on each other to destroy our coalition. Does that mean we can do nothing? No: But we need to not attack one another for holding the “wrong” idea or for not supporting any one particular thing.

We should try to amplify voices calling for positive action. In 2016, the Straw Dog Writers’ Guild organized Voices for Resistance, a project that brought celebrated writers together to offer a reading on the theme of resistance. I was able to invite Kelly Link and was very gratified when she participated. With current events, our committee is discussing how to organize going forward.

Finally, we need to play the long game. We shouldn’t try to do everything. Pick a few things that are important and commit to working on them personally. There’s a lot we can do. But pace yourself! It’s going to be a long four years.

For myself, my primary goal is going to be to defend the LGBTQIA+ community. I don’t yet know exactly what I’m going to do, but I will continue being visible, writing fiction that features queer stories and characters, and offering myself up for panels that discuss issues of gender and sexual identity. Are those the most important concerns? There are going to be many, many fronts in this struggle. But these are the issues I’m going to focus on and, even if only from the sidelines, I will try to support people that choose other hills to die on.

Recently at the Faculty Senate, there were calls for the Chancellor to make public statements about what the University will do in response to changes implemented by the incoming administration. A number of people were dissatisfied with his reply. They seem to want him to just come out and say, “We will break the law.” They don’t seem to understand that it would irresponsible and short-sighted make performative statements like that prospectively.

I was given the opportunity to attend a presentation by consultants advising about strategies the University should consider heading into the new year. Some key take-aways: We should avoid getting drawn into speculative debate about what might happen, redouble our efforts to maintain internal solidarity, and look to build external partnerships.

The incoming administration will make a lot of noise about things they want to do, but the actual changes they can make will be more limited. It’s distraction to spend a lot of time trying to respond to everything they throw up against the wall and instead, we should try to work in partnership to find ways to ameliorate the worst effects of the things they can actually change.

We can expect to see concerted efforts to keep us divided and off balance. They will look for points of division among us and try to exploit them to get us to fight among ourselves. We need to resist the temptation and show solidarity around the things we can actually agree on, regardless of whatever points of division may exist.

Finally, we should look to partner with other organizations that we can ally with to maintain solidarity and support our goals: the Association of Public and Land-grant Universities (APLU), other universities, etc. There are a lot of things we can’t do as an organization. But we can ally ourselves with other groups that can.

It’s going to be a dark time for our country. The incoming administration is antithetical to many of the things we believe in, like the rule of law, equal rights, and social justice. We’re going to be challenged as never before to find ways to move forward even while the rest of the country goes backward. I see the same pressures being bought to bear on other organizations I belong to. But we should focus on what we can do.

My year in writing has been a year of transition. During the spring, I negotiated with my employer to begin a phased retirement. I was distracted during much that time trying to figure out all of the ins-and-outs of this huge life change. There’s a lot to learn and a huge number of details. Luckily, my life partner is good at this sort of thing — much better than me — and she did the lion’s share of the work. I’m so lucky to have her. But starting this fall, I began teaching half-time, which has freed up a lot of time for writing.

I attended several events related to my writing. I was both a participant at Arisia in January moderating a panel on gender and sexual identity in media and serving on several other panels. I was a participant at Boskone during February where I served on panels about evolution and romance. I ran the Small Publishing in a Big Universe (SPBU) Marketplace table at the Watch City Steampunk Festival. I also ran Water Dragon and SPBU tables at Readercon in July.

I offered several readings as well, at Arisia, Boskone, and for Straw Dog. I mostly did readings from Better Angels: Tour de Force with selections from Military Morale Mishegoss and all of The Super Sticky Situation.

To support sales of the signed edition, I made a Better Angels ‘zine similar with snapshots and descriptions of each of the Angels with their vital statistics and “three measurements.” I was really pleased with how it turned out — especially the pictures of the individual Angels. They’re really kyuto!

I continued to offer Straw Dog Writes for the Straw Dog Writers’ Guild. Roughly forty people have signed up or attended at some point, The average attendance was four with a range of 1 to 9. Attendance was lower during the summer but a few loyal attendees came nearly every week.

I set up and ran Wandering Shop Stories beginning in 2024. I have written a story fragment almost every day as a warm up exercise. We have four or five other participants nearly every day. In December the server we had used to operate the bot was scheduled to shut down, so I migrated to wandering.shop. Nearly 100 people have signed up for the feed. And in late November, I created a bot offer the prompt on Bluesky as well.

I had two works published in 2024. The collected edition of Revin’s Heart came out from Water Dragon Publishing with the original seven novelettes plus three “side quests” — short stories from the perspective of other characters. I also had a short story, Always a Destroyer, selected for the anthology Romancing the Rainbow by Knight Writing Press.

I have signed the contract with Water Dragon Publishing for A Familiar Problem. A young man desperately wants a strong magical familiar but, instead, is captured and made the familiar of a powerful demon that intends to train him up for something. But what? The book is tentatively scheduled to be released in January 2025.

I did a lot of writing. I finished writing a new series of six novelettes: Lady Cecelia’s Journey with a seventh omake novelette for the extended edition (totaling 74,000 words). I’m calling it a sapphic romantasy road story:

Love blossoms between two young women, aristocrat and commoner, who risk everything to pursue a life together in face of parental and societal disapproval. Their hope takes them from their small town, across the island, to the Capital following the passionate dream that they can be together openly.

I also have written tens of thousands of words of The Ground Never Lies another sapphic romantasy about a geomancer with an anger problem who thinks herself unlovable, but discovers a capacity for love she believes she had lost. I had developed an original outline and when I finished writing it, I realized I only had about half a novel. But then I realized that I could write another timeline of the events that led to her disillusionment and intersperse the two timelines. At least that’s the plan.

I have several other works in progress. I have two novellas written as sequels to Revin’s Heart with a third in in progress. I’ve written several other short stories set in the same universe as Always a Destroyer.

In the fall, when the candidate for Secretary of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers Association (SFWA) dropped out, I proposed myself as a write-in candidate. In October, I was elected and took office on November 1. It’s been an interesting experience and a good fit for what I can offer to an organization. It’s been a steep learning curve to get up to speed with the current challenges and culture of the organization. But I’m very happy with the rest of the leadership team and feel appreciated for making a useful contribution.

Not everything went well in 2024, however. I was very disappointed when I was not offered a participant role at Worldcon in Glasgow. I had already purchased plane tickets and lodging. I ended up deciding not to go. I was able to recover some of what I had spent, and turned out that many many people got COVID, so it was perhaps for the best.

I have some exciting plans for 2025 that I look forward to sharing soon.

When I joined Water Dragon Publishing, my first publication was The Third Time’s the Charm. It is a steampunky fantasy adventure with pirates and airships and a trans protagonist. An 8000-word novelette, it was published as part of the Dragon Gems program. Especially during the pandemic, Water Dragon had discovered that small books seemed to sell well. Now the rest of the world may be catching up.

In Short Books are Perfect for Our Distracted Age, Margaret Renkl describes finding short novels and novellas are rewarding because you can read them in a single sitting. Enough to immerse yourself in but not something you’ll need to return to day after day to finish.

When I wrote The Third Time’s the Charm, I imagined it as part of a series of connected stories: each with its own arc, but connected to an overarching story that linked them all. After writing the second, For the Favor of A Lady, I was able to persuade my publisher to let me serialize them as Revin’s Heart. Five more stories followed in which the protagonist goes from obscurity to the heart of a kingdom and shakes its foundations.

After, Rewriting the Rules came out, we created a collected edition that includes the seven novelettes plus three “side quests” that tell background stories about the characters, including Riva’s Escape, that describes the transition of the protagonist. In the stories he’s only ever described as an man with his transition simply an established fact. But I thought readers would be interested in learning more about his history.

It was a surprise to me to discover that the bundles of the individual stories was actually easier to sell than the collected edition. Another author was envious of how at conventions, the bundles seemed to fly off the table.

Soon, I’m hoping to see if lightning will strike twice. I’ve written another series of novelettes set in the same world, but twenty years earlier. A minor character in Revin’s Heart is Lady Cecelia, who is the curator of a botanical garden. She shows up just a couple of times. But I was interested in telling her background story.

In Lady Cecelia’s Journey, two young women, aristocrat and commoner, fall in love and struggle against societal norms against same-sex relationships and the difference in their social status. In order to live together openly, they flee their backward town to travel to the more cosmopolitan capital. I’m billing it as a sapphic romantasy road story. I’m hoping for it to be serialized as six novelettes, with a seventh omake novelette, Lady Cecelia’s Temptation, that will be part of collected edition.

Many years ago, I was a doctoral student in science education… (Pro-tip: Always call yourself a “doctoral student” rather than a “graduate student” because the University staff will treat you way better) Anyway, I was taking mostly Biology classes, but also some classes in the Geology Department.

Geology tends to be a much more blue-collar science than Biology. At least, this department was. And a number of the more blue-collar students pegged me as some egghead intellectual that was slumming in Geology and gave me the cold shoulder. One was a non-traditional student — my age or older — who had worked for years as a well-drilling operator and was going back to school to finish a bachelors degree.

One night, we were running a pump test out in the field. For this test, you run a pump for like 24 hours or longer to create a cone of depression in the water table and then, when you turn off the pump, you monitor how quickly the water table returns to baseline. This can yield useful information about the nature of the permeability of the soil, etc. Anyway, I was one of 6 or 7 students out in the middle of a field at night with a huge generator truck monitoring a pump from like 2-4am.

The guy was chain smoking and holding forth with the rest of the students. They were all traditional late teen or early 20’s undergrads and they looked up to him. He was joking with them and telling stories. Then he looked around at them and said, “If you don’t get a job before sundown… Anybody? Anybody?” There was silence. Into the silence, I said, “You get a goddamned job before sundown or we’re shippin’ ya off to military school with that GODDAMN FINKELSTEIN SHIT KID! SONOVABITCH!” It’s a quote from Cheech & Chong’s movie Up in Smoke.

The guy was stunned. He’d had me pegged for some goody two-shoes academic and had no idea that I was a former stoner and had come of age in a blue-collar environment. He was ecstatic to discover me as a fellow-thinker. “Right? Right?” he crowed. After that, I was officially OK and was welcomed into the bosom of the Geology student community.

Almost all rejections you get as an author provide no feedback. Clarkesworld, which has rejected everything I’ve sent (often within hours) says, “Unfortunately, your story isn’t quite what we’re looking for right now.”

I used to think that more feedback would be useful. But I’ve come around. One place that still gives feedback rejected my story today with a message from the slush reader that was, in essence, that he didn’t think magic would work like that.

I mean, what? What does that even mean? You can tell me that science doesn’t work like that. Or any fact-based domain. But magic? Give me a break!

In the end, all you can know from a rejection is that this editor didn’t like your story. It tells you little about whether or not a different editor might like it. So just tell me you didn’t like the story and keep your weird opinions to yourself.

Still, that’s plenty for a publication. The editors know (or should know) what their readers are looking for.

Things might be different for beginners. Especially, if their problems are related to the practices of authorship and craft of writing. It might be helpful to have someone remind them to follow the submission guidelines, spellcheck their manuscript, write in paragraphs, use punctuation correctly, etc.

It’s very useful to spend a few hours on the other side of the table. I did some slush reading a couple of years ago and it was astonishing to see what people submit. I remember one story that had, in essence, 5 or 6 pages of exposition — basically a really long preface setting up the action. And then there was about two paragraphs of “story” right at the very end.

It was not what we were looking for.

Yesterday was the last day of Writing Month. During November, 2024, I wrote 20, 418 words. I did not reach the goal I had set of 50,000 words. I knew the goal was probably unrealistic even in the beginning. But then my mother was in the hospital for the first week in November, which explains part of my lack of progress. I was also simply too busy with work. In the end, I was still satisfied with the progress I made.

Writing Month was a hack put together by a guy to replace NaNoWriMo. He had grander ambitions, but managed to only create a very bare-bones site by the beginning of the month. But he did! And the site worked flawlessly for me — at least in terms of tracking my progress. It didn’t really have any mechanisms for discovery or social networking, so I only found one other person as a “buddy” and never figured out how to see how they were doing.

The final statistic showed that 44 authors wrote a total of 40,174 words towards a total goal of 1,427,380 words. That suggests that maybe only one or two other people entered word counts. (Or maybe several did for a few days and then dropped off.)

I spent Writing Month working on my manuscript for The Ground Never Lies. This is a sapphic romantasy about a geomancer with an anger problem who has given up on love, but who then discovers a capacity for love she didn’t realize she had. I wrote a pilot for the story a couple of years ago, but shelved it because I couldn’t decide if a shorter version worked or if I should commit to writing it as a novel. I had this idea that the geomancer has a day job doing land assessments for properties in a karst region, where people want to be sure that a sinkhole won’t open up wrecking the property. But that the geomancer also moonlights as the crime-scene assessor for the local constabulary. But, as I wrote the story, I didn’t see any way to work in scenes of her doing other crime-scene assessments. Then I realized that there are two stories here: one is the original arc. But the other is how she became the person she is at the beginning of the story: embittered and disgusted with herself and life. So once I finished writing the original arc, I spent a week writing this second arc. Then I’ll have to figure out how to stitch them together.

I might using the Writing Month structure again in January, when it will be Intersession and I’ll have more free time to write.

I’ve served in leadership and Board roles in non-profits a number of times over the years. I’ve been a Secretary, Vice President, and President, in addition to serving on boards. I’ve learned some things about what makes a Board work.

Foremost is that the primary goal of the leadership should not be to make decisions, but rather to defend the power of the Board. I’ve served in organizations where tensions develop between the Executive Director and the elected leadership. And sometimes Presidents bring their own agenda that they would like to push through. It can feel simpler for the leadership to try to push their own agendas and treat the Board like a rubber stamp. But the leadership needs to resist that. The Board should remain in control and the leadership should only decide when the Board cannot.

Second, any decision you make as a Board is going to make some people unhappy. In dysfunctional organizations, the leadership can become paralyzed because it can feel like only way to avoid making people angry is to do nothing. Of course, doing nothing will also make some number of people angry. But it also guarantees the organization will founder and drift, rudderless.

A former Chancellor at my university had a saying about leadership that’s stuck with me. He said, “Money matters, quality counts, and time is the enemy.” Point being, money matters, but it’s not everything. Quality counts. If something is worth doing, it may be worth doing badly. But you need to prioritize, make tradeoffs, and not try to do everything if it means that everything is bad. Finally, the more time you spend deliberating and deciding will put the organization behind.

Since my recent election to SFWA, I’ve been reassured to find that the Board and leadership are aligned and prepared to work on addressing the real challenges that exist. I have great confidence that we are well positioned to more forward together as an organization.

One more observation: Shortly after I assumed a leadership position for the first time, I discovered an interesting phenomenon. The moment you step into the role, it’s like a target gets painted on your back. You assume ownership of all of the problems of the organization. And people who bear some grudge against the organization immediately start targeting you. So it has been here.

You can’t let it stop you.

This year, the fixup for Revin’s Heart was published, which included three short stories. And I wrote a short story that was published in an anthology.

• Brewer, S.D. 2024. Revin’s Heart, Water Dragon Publishing, San Jose, California, including
  • “Where There’s a Will” pp 269-282,
  • “Curtains Rise” pp 283-302,
  • “Riva’s Escape” pp 303-329.
• Brewer, S.D. 2024. Always a Destroyer (pp 99-111) in Romancing the Rainbow. Knight Writing Press, Parker, Colorado. 240pp.

Wandering Shop Stories, a writing prompt that began in January and recently migrated to wandering.shop, has now taken a new step to be more available to the wider SFF community: We ‘re now on Bluesky too!

It looks like the announcement that birdchan would start using everything everyone posted to train its AI finally roused a huge number of people to get up and leave the Nazi bar. And it appears that Bluesky is where the SFF community is going to land. Personally, I find this a bit disappointing as Bluesky is funded by venture capital. It’s currently very nice, but I suspect it will inevitably become enshittified. But, like it or not, that’s where the vast majority of the SFF community is going.

I decided, therefore, to see if I could create a bot to share the Wandering Shop Stories prompts at Bluesky in addition to Mastodon. I still prefer the vibe at Mastodon and am not planning to leave. But I’d like to be able to cross-post stuff. So it would be nice if the #wss366 hashtag would reference something. And there may be people that would like to play along at Bluesky. So, I decided to see how difficult it was to adapt the python script I use for Mastodon to also post at Bluesky.

It turned out to be super easy. Well… Sorta.

It also turned out that when I installed the atproto library, it updated something else that caused the Mastodon bot to quit working. I hate when that happens. After spending a few hours fighting with it, I decided to just do a side-install of a newer version of python and use a virtual environment to make sure that everything was separate from the system install of python. I should have done that in the first place, honestly.

Then, everything worked. Well… Almost.

It turns out you can’t just emit text and have it auto-format it, like it does if you post it. You have to run it through the filter on the client side to build rich-text using a utility called “textbuilder” before you submit it. That was a bit cranky and not well documented. But, eventually, I got that to work just tickety boo.

I used to do this kind of technical work all the time. It’s nice to see that I still can navigate programming and building reliable unix services. But, honestly, I’m pretty glad it’s not my day job anymore. My father always described these kinds of things as “just like using a computer.”

In the end, I’ve found spending a few minutes a day writing a very short story — especially when I’m otherwise too busy — to be really helpful at sustaining my creativity. The prompts that we choose are aimed to be ordinary words that have multiple meanings, so you can spin them a bunch of different ways. I love how it makes me feel to write something short and sweet.

Even more, I love seeing the contributions that other people make. I’m looking forward to seeing what people on Bluesky choose to contribute!

I attended a craft workshop organized by the Straw Dog Writers’ Guild about translating poetry by Jesse Lee Kercheval. She’s Zona Gale Professor of English Emerit at the University of Wisconsin Madison. The workshop had to be rescheduled when she had computer difficulties several weeks ago, but it was still pretty well attended for a Zoom event on a rainy Saturday morning.

She talked a bit about her path to translating poetry. She grew up speaking French, but learned English in her childhood. For the past 15 years, she’s been going to Uruguay and learning about the language and literature of the region. She’s published both original poetry and poetry in translation.

She brought several examples to show the kinds of choices translators make when trying to share a poem from one language to another. They were fascinating and gave the audience the opportunity to discover how choices throw cultural and linguistics aspect of both the original and target languages into relief.

One poem, translated by her and by another poet was particularly fascinating to me, as I could see how the other poet created a more masculine take on the poem showing cultural differences in how men and women speak. It reminded me of how in Japanese, men use a much rougher, more clipped, kind of speech.

Another poem showed the challenges — and limitations — of trying to bring a cultural construct from one language into another without intersecting with different cultural biases in the target language. The word “barrio” has different cultural connotations in the two communities: do you try to translate it or leave it in? Even the title of the poem, which was purely metaphorical: do you translate it literally? Or try to capture a corresponding metaphorical meaning in English? Choices!

For many, many years, (more than 30!) I have been writing poetry in Esperanto and trying to translate it into English. I’ve also done some limited translation of English poetry into Esperanto. And as an undergraduate, I studied Spanish for many years. So this was just a perfect fit for my interests and needs. I’ve been thinking about making a new chapbook of Esperanto haiku and now I’m even more excited to get started.

In 2001, Philip kept a diary while attending the Clarion East speculative fiction writing retreat. He had a transformative experience that I got to watch from the outside.

Years later, he wrote a round up post, where he collected some of his most meaningful reflections and provided a link to his Clarion at home page where he describes how to accomplish similar goals to attending the workshop, for people who can’t attend. Because attending Clarion is a huge commitment.

Clarion, as currently constituted, is difficult for most people to attend. It requires leaving home for 6 weeks, probably getting a leave from work, and being able to pay for room-and-board someplace while maintaining one’s current housing. Many people just can’t do that. Moreover, it requires living in close proximity to other people which I can’t do because of my chronic lung condition.

So I was excited to see that, next year (in 2025), Clarion is moving to an online format. Next year, at that time, I’ve already applied to participate in the Lambda Literary Emerging Writers Retreat. It’s a shorter online workshop that I think could be a good fit for my needs. But maybe next year, I’ll apply for Clarion.

The other workshop I’ve always wanted to attend is Viable Paradise. In the past, I couldn’t attend because it takes place during the fall, when I’m busy with work. But now that I’m in my phased retirement, I’m only working half time and might be able to attend. Applications open in January and I may well apply.

Yesterday, I attended my first Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers Association (SFWA) Board Meeting as Secretary. It was a thoroughly positive experience. I took notes carefully and generated a set of minutes. I shared both my raw notes and my proposed set of minutes with the Board in order to get feedback in terms of how much detail people would like in the minutes. Some boards I’ve served on would like the full set of notes, but a set of minutes is generally a concise set of notes that captures only the essentials of what was decided. It will take me a while to get a sense of this Board to understand what is needed.

I had only met a few of the board members previously. We did around of introductions and it was interesting to see the range of perspectives and backgrounds present. I think it’s a nicely diverse board with members who bring very different life experiences, although many of us have teaching backgrounds. I immediately was made to feel at home and I think I will fit in well.

Initially, I had no plans to be Secretary. During the summer, when it became clear that SFWA was facing some challenges, I offered myself as a volunteer. Since I am beginning my phased retirement, I have more time available to dedicate to service. When the special election was called, I saw that someone had immediately offered themselves for Secretary and I was like, “Great!” If someone else wanted to do the work, I was happy to let them have at it. But then, due to some new opportunity at work, that candidate decided they had to withdraw. Seeing no other candidate step forward, I was happy to do so. I’m familiar with the work of being Secretary and happy to do what I can to support the organization.

SFWA is going through a major transition. I was aware of SFWA long before I began seriously writing speculative fiction. When I first started getting my fiction published, I was eager to join. At the time, however, the rules were such that it seemed an insurmountable challenge to become eligible. The rules required getting certain number of publications in markets that paid “pro” rates — except hardly any did. I spoke with my publisher — a small press — about the issue. They pay about a quarter of pro rates and admitted that without some other significant source of funding, they would not be able to sustain paying higher rates. But then SFWA changed the rules to be measured again absolute earnings through publishing. I was immediately able to join as an “associate” member and, when I renewed my membership the following year, I had reached the level necessary for “full” membership.

Not everyone is evidently happy about the change. It has produced a large influx of eager new members but, reportedly, some of the old-time members preferred the exclusivity of the previous, more restrictive, rules for entry. Personally, I think the new rules are better and produce a population that is more representative of the population of speculative fiction authors the organization is designed to serve. But I recognize the diversity of viewpoints on the matter.

A number of people have been worried about SFWA. The Romance Writers of America recently collapsed into bankruptcy. When SFWA experienced a number of resignations in a short time, people worried that there was some deep, dark secret that meant that the organization itself was in jeopardy. I have seen nothing that suggests this is the case. There are some challenges, but they are ordinary sorts of challenges. I have every confidence that the current board will meet those challenges and the organization will emerge all the stronger.

I would again like to thank everyone who had the confidence to vote for me for Secretary. I know that I was a bit of a dark horse. But I will work hard to repay your trust and help SFWA to meet its challenges.

On November 1, 2024, the curators of Wandering Shop Stories met up via Zoom for the first time. We had, in fact, cast a wider invitation, but we were the only ones who came. We had a good discussion.

We spent a bit of time just meeting one another (some of us for the first time) and talking about writing in general. But we quickly turned to Wandering Shop Stories. I spent a little time just reviewing the history of how wss366 came to be and contrasting it with vss365, which had been the inspiration.

All of us are very satisfied with how the project is working. We talked a bit about choosing prompts. We agreed that our current practice of choosing ordinary words that have multiple meanings gave us the most satisfactory results. We debated the importance of avoiding repeats (probably worth doing, but not always worth the time or effort).

Our initial impetus had been to discuss how we approach writing our story fragments. Each of us approaches it somewhat differently and it was fascinating to hear the various strategies.

Finally, I was able to announce that wandering.shop had approved allowing us to migrate from botsin.space that recently announced they were shutting down. I had originally chosen botsin.space because they welcomed bots and I sorta kinda personally knew the guy that was running. He had recently come to the conclusion that he needed to either substantially gear up to support the increased demand or shut down. He decided he really didn’t want to make the commitment to run the service, so he announced it would shutdown in mid-December. I approached the staff at wandering.shop and, after some discussion, they established a set of rules for allowing bots (from known members in good standing under defined conditions).

On November 3, I reviewed the documentation and made the necessary changes to migrate the bot. I was reminded of how straightforward it is to work with Mastodon as compared with when I did set up bots for birdchan and Discord. It only took me a a couple of hours to create a new account, configure it to receive the posts from my script, update the script, test, and then trigger the migration of followers from the old to the new account. It went about as smoothly as could be imagined.

We hope to have more meetings periodically. Perhaps we can have the next one between the holidays to talk about getting ready for the new year.

This semester, my writing students are studying lichens. Mostly not by choice, but because every semester I try to pick a different theme for my students to study and this semester seemed like a lichen kind of semester. To be fair, the students have been good sports, gamely looking at lichens and thinking deeply about how to study them.

On campus, there are lichens pretty much everywhere: on trees, rocks, buildings, light poles, benches, etc. But mostly not on the ground. Lichens get excluded anyplace where plants can grow well, so you generally only see them on very poor soil. But there are a few places in the region like that. One of them is the Montague Plains.

The Montague Plains are a delta where water from the glaciers flowed into glacial Lake Hitchcock during the last ice age. When a stream flows into a body of water, it creates a triangular (delta) shaped structure with sorted sediments: the gravel drops out first and then the sand. The silt stays suspended, but settles out on lake bed during the winter, producing varved clays. So most of the the delta is just sandy. Very sandy soil is tough for plants to grow on. It tends to be very well drained (i.e. dry) and there’s little organic matter, so few nutrients. And nothing for fungi to grow on, so few mycorrhizal relationships to help plants.

Few plants grow there. Some sparse grasses and trees, mostly pitch pine and scrub oak. Moreover, there tend be frequent fires, which end up burning off most of the organic material that might otherwise accumulate in the soil. So this is a recipe for lichens to grow. You have to look under the grass, leaves, and pine needles to find them, but they’re there.

It’s probably too far for any of the students groups to study there this semester. But I thought I’d stop by to take a few pictures to share with them anyway. Moreover, I always like visiting places with interesting geomorphology and botany to help me write fiction.

On October 23, 2024, I was elected Secretary of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers Association. Thank you to everyone who supported my candidacy! I learned I had won from the Interim President (who will be Vice President going forward) who met with me via Zoom.

We had a good conversation. We discussed the expectations of the Secretary and a number of the upcoming activities: the business meeting and current thinking about how to organize the Nebulas.

He commented that I had received a very respectable number of votes — a surprisingly good showing for a write in candidate. I was gratified that my efforts of outreach — drafting a post to introduce myself, making postings in the SFWA Discord and Forum, and attending a SFWA Writing Date — were effective at introducing myself to the membership.

SFWA is currently facing a number of challenges. There have been a significant number of staff and officer resignations. And most recently, a newly elected board member had to be removed for cause. But it appears to me that the fundamentals of the organization are strong. I am hopeful that with new leadership, we can restore the organization to smooth operation.

My term is scheduled to begin on November 1, 2024 and will run through June 30, 2025 (since I am completing the term of the former officer). That should be plenty of time for me to determine whether I am a good fit and should continue in the role. I have typically enjoyed serving as Secretary: it’s work that I’m generally good at and allows me to play to my strengths. I look forward to meeting the rest of the board and getting to work!

Many years ago, when NaNoWriMo was new, I tried to participate. It didn’t go well. But this year, we’re calling it Writing Month.

November has always one of my busiest months. In my writing course, students are finishing their proposals and then launching their research projects. When I was BCRC Director, I found that there was also a bit uptick with people who were supposed to have started something at the beginning of the semester but now, since the end was in sight, were desperately trying to do something. And, there were always a few proactive people already thinking about next semester. It was always a busy time. Too busy to take on other commitments.

But, now, I’m semi-retired! I’m only teaching the one class (and doing my various other service obligations).

Furthermore, I have a new manuscript I’m working on: The Ground Never Lies. I’ve had this idea for a couple of years about a geomancer with an anger problem (who thinks of herself as unlovable) who gets involved with, and then has to rescue, a naive young woman who idolizes her. I wrote a pilot but couldn’t quite decide whether to leave it a short story or expand it into a novel. I have now completed the outline for a novel and am ready to start cranking on it.

The problem, however, is that NaNoWriMo has become toxic in the writing community. Several years ago, it was revealed that the organization was not responding effectively to complaints and evidence that some predators were using the organization as a means to groom and make unwanted sexual advances to young people. And, this year, they received an infusion of money from a company that builds generative AI tools and they issued a tone-deaf statement that ambiguously supported using generative AI for writing. For these reasons, a number of people have decided to abandon involvement in NaNoWriMo.

That said, many people are interested in trying to write during November. It’s a dark time (literally, due to the axial tilt of the Earth) and a lot of people need something to help them keep going. So one guy created a new website called Writing Month. I’ve signed up and will use it to track my writing. Will I succeed in writing 50,000 words in a month? I don’t know — and don’t really care. But I do want to write this novel before January and this seems like a useful vehicle to help provide some discipline.

Upon the withdrawal of the only announced candidate, I volunteer to serve as Secretary for the Science Fiction/Fantasy Writers Association in the Special Election. But as the deadline for new candidates has passed, my candidacy can only be as a write-in. If you write me in for Secretary I will serve. Read on to learn more about me as a candidate.

I believe I am eligible to be a candidate. I am a full member and I have been a member in good standing for more than two years. I have an internet connection. And I am not and have never been an employee of SFWA.

I am currently beginning a two-year phased retirement from my career in higher education at the University of Massachusetts Amherst. I currently teach scientific writing half-time and serve as Presiding Officer of the Faculty Senate. (That means I’m the guy that chairs the meetings.) At the end of academic year 2025-2026, I will be fully retired.

I have a long history of service. At the university, I have served on many boards, councils, and committees and in many officer roles, including secretary. Outside of the university, I have been the secretary of two non-profits that are of similar size to SFWA, at least in terms of budget: The Esperanto League for North American (DBA Esperanto-USA, where I also served a term as vice-president and 8 years as webmaster) and Amherst Community Television (DBA Amherst Media, where I served a term as secretary and two terms as president). I have also served for a number of years on the organizing committee for a regional technology conference: the Western Mass Drupal Camp which evolved into the New England Regional Developers (NERD) Summit.

As an author, I’ve had several short stories published in anthologies, but have also published two books with Water Dragon Publishing. One is Revin’s Heart, a steampunky fantasy adventure with pirates and airships and a trans protagonist which was serialized in seven novelettes and came out as a fix-up published January 2024. I’ve also published Better Angels: Tour de Force, an anthology of fluffy, military, space-opera short stories for the Truck Stop at the Center of the Galaxy (a shared-world anthology) about a group of non-human biological androids that look like pre-teen girls who serve as magical-girl, dancing-and-singing idols, but who can change up their programming and become a covert military force. My forthcoming book, A Familiar Problem (due in January 2025) is dark, cozy fantasy about a young man who desperately wants a strong magical familiar but who, instead, is captured and made the familiar of a powerful demon that intends to train him up for something. But what?

I also speak Esperanto and, before I began publishing in English, I had several speculative fiction stories, haibun, and essays published in Esperanto, some of which won awards in the international Belarta Konsurso. I also self-published four chapbooks of Esperanto haiku, which you can still find and purchase via Amazon.

I hope you’ll consider writing me in for Secretary in the SFWA Special Election.

One year ago this week, I ran the first session of Straw Dog Writes for the Straw Dog Writers’ Guild. And we’ve met basically every week since. I’m satisfied that it’s been time well spent. (It was also the week when my son’s boxer puppy, Tanuki, pictured above, came home for the first time.)

Two years ago, I helped the Program Committee conduct a survey of the membership to assess whether there were unmet needs among the community. One of the needs we identified was that members were looking for more opportunities to socialize and write together. There were also a substantial number of members who lived too far away, had health issues, or didn’t want to drive in the dark during the winter, that were interested in more opportunities for remote interaction.

I proposed Straw Dog Writes modeled on the SFWA “Writing Date”, which meets weekly via Zoom to socialize for 15 minutes, write for 45, then repeat. With the support of the Program Committee, I worked with the organization to set up the resources and agreed to coordinate and run the program.

In the past year, more than 50 people have attended at least once. During the winter, usually there were usually four or five participants ― occasionally as many as ten. Attendance was understandably lower during the summer. About half were pre-existing members and another half were new members who joined to participate. Participants tended to be evenly divided among writing fiction, poetry, and memoirs. One current participant is working on a graphic novel.

I tried to persuade the administrative assistant to create a webpage to advertise the program, but she refused, saying that she thought the website had “too many pages” already. That was a significant disappointment to me, as it made doing publicity significantly more difficult, since there’s no landing page — just individual calendar entries. That’s why there’s no link to the program on this page: there’s no place to link to.

I had originally hoped to recruit guest hosts to actually run the sessions, in part because it might be a useful hook to draw more participants. I did get a few members of the Program Committee to guest host and it was fun. I reached out to a woman who coordinates one of the other regional writing groups that offers paid consulting to see if maybe their instructors/consultants would like the opportunity to promote their programming to my participants. But she didn’t seem interested. Maybe I can do a better job of finding more guest hosts this year.

Most people who attend indicate they get a fair amount of writing done. I know I do. When I’m writing, I usually get more than a thousand words written. Once I got nearly 2000 words and one of these days I hope to reach it. But I sometimes use the time for outlining or revising, rather than just writing. (And occasionally even grading.) In any case, I’m happy to keep doing it just for myself, if no-one else. But everyone’s welcome. Join me!

I submitted five pictures to the Head in the Clouds Amherst 2025 wall calendar and one was selected for April! This picture was taken just across the street from where I live, at the edge of the UMass Amherst campus looking toward Orchard Hill at sunrise. The picture was actually taken on December 15. My original caption was, “This photo shows the southern-most point of the ecliptic, when the sun appears to rise behind Orchard Hill. The hill causes our winter sunrise to be an hour later than local sunrise.” Since they wanted to use the photo for April, I instead proposed using a haiku from my 2013 chapbook senokulvitre about sakura buds. You can purchase copies of the calendar for $22.

Many years ago, I got interested in photography. For a brief time, I dreamed of being a wildlife photographer. Using a 35mm single-lens reflex camera, I tried taking lots of pictures using Kodachrome and got some really nice pictures. But relatively quickly, I discovered the difference between an amateur photographer and one who can take professional, magazine-cover-quality photos. I might walk by a field, spot a deer in the field, and get a great picture. But a professional would say, “This picture is OK, but the weather is all wrong.” So they’d come back day after day until the weather was just right and then say, “The lighting is wrong at this time of year.” Then they’d come back year after year until the weather and lighting were perfect, get an even better picture, and then say, “Now the deer needs to be facing the other direction.” I had no-where near the level of patience and persistence to get cover-quality picture photos. That said, I learned a lot about photography and composition.

I still like to take pictures — especially now that, with a digital workflow, you can take as many pictures as you want. Working with Kodachrome was very limiting: you needed to use a tripod (because the films were very slow), the film was expensive, the processing was even more expensive, and then getting a photo printed was even more expensive.

I really liked the other pictures I had submitted as well, so here they are.

This was where the playground of my children’s elementary school was, before the town short-sightedly closed it down.

This is the millpond in Easthampton. I liked the reflections in the water.

This sunken road is on the way to Hawley Bog.

This abandoned trolley line is in the Arcadia Wildlife Refuge in Easthampton.

I’ll never be a professional photographer, but its still fun to take pictures.

I used to love to write in cafes or libraries or other public places. But after I was hospitalized during the pandemic, I could no longer go into public places where people are unmasked. So, for a long time, that meant staying in my office.

Don’t get me wrong. I love my office! I have a big laptop with a portrait monitor and a fridge that’s usually well stocked with cold water bottles and beer. It’s located in the basement of my house and is quiet when I want it to be quiet — but I also have big speakers I can turn on when I want to listen to kpop or jpop. And I have poster boards with the covers of my books which make a nice background when I’m in Zoom for class or Faculty Senate or Straw Dog Writes or whatever else I do.

In the past, when I was working full time, I was in my office for many of my waking hours. But this semester, I have started my new phased retirement. This means, that I don’t need to spent nearly as much time running class or having consultations with students.

During the winter, my office used to get pretty cold. I used to have to wear a sweater or fleece and use fingerless gloves to type. But, about a year ago, we got insulation installed in the basement that keeps the temperature nearly always in the 60s — very comfortable during summer or winter.

For a long time, we’ve had a little tent gazebo set up in the front yard. We used to have an old, weird picnic table under it, which was OK. But not really very comfortable. So I proposed getting more comfortable furniture. My wife, always practical, pointed out that, to do that, we’d need to have a patio for the furniture to sit on. So, this spring, we arranged to have a patio installed. And then I ordered the furniture and set it up.

It is glorious. Now, whenever the weather is nice, this is where you’ll find me writing. It’s not exactly quiet, as there is a busy road behind the arbor vitae. And sometimes the sun shines on my laptop screen. But I love it. It provides a nice environment for being able to write that is comfortable. I appreciate the fresh air and quiet stimulation of having people walk by on the sidewalk. And seeing the neighborhood children waiting for the school bus.

It’s also a nice place for me to meet with people. Due to my health issues, I can’t meet people in cafes or bars or restaurants anymore (although beergardens are OK) so it’s wonderful to have a comfortable place where people can come to hang out with me. It’s also a great place to have a beer or cocktail with friends.

It’s a bit of work to watch the weather and cover everything up whenever rain threatens. And, eventually, I’ll have to figure out what to do for the winter. I plan to move the cushions indoors and then cover up the furniture. Winters are long in New England and so I’m sure I’ll be looking out longingly all winter waiting for spring.

But, at least now — for the fall, while the weather is nice — this is where you can find me. Writing.

I’ve realized over the past couple of years that my writing has been significantly influenced by reading manga. I’ve been tracking upwards of a thousand manga and, therefore, have read tens of thousands of chapters of manga over the past 10 years.

Manga are a somewhat guilty pleasure for me. Undoubtedly part of the reason I like them is that in Japan there is much less pressure against cultural appropriation and male-gaze fan service. I particularly enjoy seeing Western culture appropriated and viewed through a Japanese cultural lens. It’s fascinating to see how holidays (like Christmas and Valentines day) or even the use of English language gets re-presented. And manga are well known for drawing females with exaggerated “charms.” But I also appreciate a number of uniquely Japanese perspectives that are fascinating from a Western perspective.

Japanese characters are allowed to have flaws that would never be permitted in the West. In Naruto, for example, the three legendary sannin are Jiraya (the “pervy sage” who lusts after young girls), Tsunade (a drunkard and inveterate gambler), and Orochimaru (who becomes a literal villain pursuing life extension through medical experimentation on prisoners). The characters are actually drawn from Japanese folklore and embellished in the manga.

There are a bunch of story structures that are so common as to be tropes in manga that are totally unfamiliar in the west. One of the currently most-well-known is the isekai, where the protagonist dies in the first chapter (often stereotypically struck and killed by “truck-kun”) and is reincarnated in some fantastic other universe with their memories and knowledge intact. Another is the “otome game” where the protagonist becomes a player in a visual dating simulation that typically involves a “heroine” that needs to match with a handsome prince while being tormented by a “villianess”. And there are vast number of romance (“shojo“) stories and “slice-of-life” stories, often revolving around food, cafes, and onsens (hot spring resorts).

I can see a vast number of influences on my fiction are derived from manga. I really like episodic and serialized fiction. Both Revin’s Heart and Lady Cecelia’s Journey are written in novelette length episodes that each have a unique story arc, but play a role in a larger, overarching story. The short stories of Better Angels: Tour de Force are similarly episodic in nature.

Some of the character types I enjoy in manga demonstrate “gap moe” which is when a character has two personality traits that are in opposition to each other. The classic example is the tsundere: a character who seems aloof or distant but who is actually very sweet or vulnerable and is covering it up with a harsh exterior. Another tropish example is character who looks like a delinquent, but is actually a good guy (or girl) with a rough exterior. This was my inspiration for the Better Angels who look and act like pre-teen girls, but with different programming modules, can act like singing-and-dancing idols or ruthless killers.

Reading manga as I do has probably detracted significantly from the time I used to spend reading fiction. I should try to spend more time staying current with Western fiction. But though it makes me feel guilty, I like really manga: they’re a window into a different cultural experience that I don’t get from reading most fiction published in the West.

After 28 years of full-time employment, I am starting a new phase of life. This summer, for the first time since I started my career, I didn’t work over the summer. And this fall, I begin my “phased retirement” where I start working just half time. I’m excited to see what the new normal will be like.

Thirty five years ago, I began graduate school and have been working full time pretty much constantly since then. The last two years of graduate school, while I was working on my dissertation, I was also the full-time caregiver of my infant son, which was a fascinating experience but meant that I will busy nearly every waking minute.

I started my professional career in 1996 when I joined the faculty at UMass Amherst as Director of the Biology Computer Resource Center (BCRC). This meant that I was either running the BCRC and teaching a scientific writing class (during the academic year) or doing development and support during the summer (replacing hardware, updating software, building curriculum). I loved my work, but was constantly busy — I aimed for about 55 hours per week year round.

The year before the pandemic I was awarded a Professional Improvement Fellowship to develop a new honors course: Open Science Instrumentation and Data Collection, which let me bring together all of my skills. I proposed to mentor students coming up with a life science research question and developing an instrument that used a computing platform and sensors to collect and log data about their question. The fellowship offered me a semester off from my professional duties to create all of the instructional materials. It was glorious. But then the pandemic happened.

During the pandemic my department closed the BCRC and rewrote my job description as a teaching faculty member. I continued to teach the writing class and began to my new honors class. Since I was no longer obligated to spend my time doing computer support and development, I decided to repurpose that time for writing fiction and have written two books, Revin’s Heart and Better Angels: Tour de Force (plus several short stories published in anthologies).

Last year, I proposed the idea of a phased retirement to the department. I offered to continue to teach my honors class. However, because the “credit” for teaching the honors class would go to the Honors College, my college (the College of Natural Science and Mathematics) was only willing to have me teach the writing class, for which they get “credit”. So that’s what we settled on. This week, I’m getting ready to teach the writing class beginning next week.

Last year, when it wasn’t clear which class I would be teaching, I began putting off doing a bunch of the work needed to teach the honors class. That class required me to maintain and update a lot of instructional materials that had complex dependencies because the technology moves so quickly. Each year, I had to stay current with changes to the operating systems, development environments, campus networking, and the software carpentry instructional materials (which I was using for teaching). I had created a long list of tasks that I would need to do before teaching this year. And when I ended up not teaching that class, I was able to just throw out that whole list. As I’m getting ready for the fall, I’m still taking pleasure in discarding the last vestiges knowing that I won’t ever have to do that work.

In the past, I basically didn’t have time to write fiction during the academic year. I could only write during intersession and summer. But I’m hopeful that, this year, I will find that I have enough time to continue to write fiction year round. It will be nice to have that become the new normal.

I remember after I’d been writing fiction for a while, my son asked, “Why don’t you have any female characters?” I was flummoxed.

“But what about Mary?”

“She’s a yōkai — that doesn’t count.”

“But what about… Aless?”

“Who?”

“Aless — in It’s Not Just Black or White?”

“She dies on page 9.”

“Oh. Um…”

I had to admit that he was right. I really didn’t have any female characters.

As I wrote my debut work, Revin’s Heart, I added several female characters, but I realized that it still didn’t really pass the Bechdel test. Given that the story is a young man’s adventure story (though with a transgender protagonist) that’s not too surprising. But I wanted to do better. So for one of the side-stories, I decided to tell the story of the protagonist’s transition. And this included a number of strong female characters and a trans woman.

I’ve now written a number of pieces of short fiction (not all of them published) that have female protagonists. One unpublished manuscript is about an elderly witch that helps a female friend move. I’m not sure whether Better Angels or my weird little story, Always a Destroyer (in Romancing the Rainbow) really count, because although they have female protagonists, they are not really human.

Most recently, however, I’ve finished Lady Cecelia’s Journey, a sapphic romantasy road story. It’s told from the point of view of a somewhat naive aristocratic girl who, on the one hand, grew up very sheltered. But she also had many privileges and experiences that her girlfriend, a commoner, never got to have. Playing these contrasts off one another is part of the charm of the story for me. It’s a story I feel I can tell as I grew up in a well-educated, upper-middle-class family that moved to the countryside when I was in third grade, where many of my friends were members of the rural poor.

I’ve tried to craft three-dimensional characters for both of my protagonists. They each have a meaningful backstory that is not merely some dark tragedy. They each have goals and objectives in life that are not centered only around men. Or romance. They each have unique strengths and weaknesses. They each have a distinctive appearance, but they are not just their bodies. Or their clothes. And both grow and develop over the course of the story.

To be honest, I see many aspects of myself in both of them.

Men are frequently accused of writing female characters very poorly. The line that sticks in my head was the one attributed to Mary Robinette Kowal: “She breasted boobily down the stairs.” I think men who do this don’t see women as fully complete human beings: they can only see them through their own mental filter as an object. I hope ― and believe ― that I have done better.

But I guess I’ll just have to wait to see what people say.

I have been fortunate enough to travel rather widely in my lifetime which helps me create settings in my fiction. But, I have also studied both geomorphology and botany which informs the salient features to describe settings realistically in my writing. I believe these both contribute levels of detail which add to the verisimilitude of my storytelling.

Geomorphology is the study of landforms. The earth has many interlocking geological processes that combine to produce landforms. The canvas upon which geological process act are the rocks: Igneous rocks, generated by volcanic activity; sedimentary rocks, created by deposition; and metamorphic rocks, that transform igneous and metamorphic rocks, through heat and pressure, to adopt different forms. As rocks are uplifted, through orogeny, weathering causes them to erode. Often, during uplift, rocks are deformed, broken, or folded, and these patterns can be exposed by weathering. And, in many places, glaciation creates particular forms of erosion that yield many unique landforms that remain behind after the ice has retreated.

The geology coupled with hydrology represent the biotic factors that determine what kinds of plants (and other organisms) that will grow there. And they, in turn, create the conditions for a succession of communities of organisms that follow. Knowing the communities of plants can really help create the atmosphere for a setting: Are there evergreens? Or deciduous trees? Or just grassland? Or maybe just a crust of lichens on bare sand? All of these can really help bring a scene to life.

As a student, when I took the classes, I went on many field trips where I had the opportunity to see the land forms in real life. You never forget when you’ve seen an esker (a sinuous hill of gravel that forms in channels under glacial ice) or a swarm of drumlins (tear-drop shaped hills that were overrun by moving glaciers). Or the drama of a terminal moraine — a huge hill that formed at the furthest margin of a glacier where it left a huge deposit of transplanted sand, gravel, and clay. All of these can add to the realism of a setting’s description.

Last year, my son and I drove to California for Baycon. I got to travel through some regions I’d visited before. Like the Badlands (pictured above) which was formed of many layers of volcanic dust eroded way revealing the colorful layers. But others were wholly new to me: One of the most interesting was driving from the Central Valley of California to the Pacific Highway that runs right along the coast. It was more than 100° F in the Central Valley when we started driving through the Coast Ranges. It became increasing arid as we entered the rain shadow of the mountain range. But then, as we cleared the peaks, became a cool rain forest with giant redwoods as we approached the coast. It was chilly in the low 60s by the ocean, just 50 or 60 miles distant, as the crow flies.

Some of the characters in my fiction can only describe their settings in general, qualitative terms. But part of why I wanted to write a series of stories about Lady Cecelia is because she’s a botanist. So she knows the plants and can appreciate the significance of the various plant communities they pass through on her adventure.

Alone, Cecelia cautiously got to her feet and, keeping a hand on the bed, carefully stepped to the window to look out. The view quite took her breath away. She was in a high room of a grand chateau that was situated along the side of a mountain valley. In the depths, she could see a cascading whitewater river that tumbled over immense boulders. Looking upward, she could see the tips of snow-capped mountains peeking up out of a vast evergreen forest. She opened the window and let the crisp, cool air into the stuffy room. It was scented with a delightful piney smell and she could hear the roar of the river in the distance. She breathed in deeply and smiled.

Lady Cecelia’s Journey, a sapphic romantasy road story will be serialized as six novelettes.

Worldcon in Glasgow wrapped up today. I didn’t attend any of the last day’s events. Of course, I didn’t end up attending Worldcon in person and only attended a few events remotely. I had signed up very early (I had a badge number in the 3000s as opposed to 15k or 16k by the end.) And I had purchased plane tickets and made hotel reservations before January. I signed up before they announced their “disease mitigation policy.” (Due to my chronic lung condition, I have to be very careful of respiratory infections that are likely to put me in the hospital.) I had been hopeful they would adopt a masks-required policy. But they didn’t. Even so, I planned to attend until I learned that I hadn’t been afforded a place on the program. At that point, I decided to cancel my plans to attend.

I was able to recover some of my sunk costs. I had (at significant expense) purchased fully-refundable airline tickets, so I was able (at some significant effort) to get the airline to refund them. The hotel had required us to basically pay for our stay upfront as a non-refundable deposit, so that was a huge loss. And, of course, I had purchased attending memberships for myself and my son, which were worthless. I offered my attending membership to someone on Mastodon who might want to attend in person, but no-one expressed interest. So I ended up using my membership to attend online. (Someone suggested that I could offer the memberships via other networks, but I said, “F— ’em. If they can’t bother to follow me on Mastodon, they deserve NOTHING.”)

I had been planning to travel to Glasgow with my son, my brother, and his wife. Instead, they flew here (as we had originally planned) and then we just hung out and spent the week together visiting. It was wonderful. I had just finished constructing a new patio with comfortable patio furniture, so we had a marvelous time.

I did attend a few events online. Although, to be honest, it made me feel bad every time since I had been so excited about attending and it was merely a reminder of what I was missing.

I did notice, however, that — in spite of the “disease mitigation policy” which said “We strongly recommend that every member wears a mask, particularly indoors or in crowded areas, such as the registration area and programme rooms” — the number of people actually masking was extremely low. I got several views of the audiences in presentations and counted masked and unmasked participants, and the ratio was between 1/5 and 1/10. So, if I had attended, I probably would have spent a lot of time having to cower in my room. Brrr.

Instead, I had a great time with my brother. My mom, who is over 90, lives with me and I always feel a little guilty that my brother doesn’t get to spend as much time with her. So it was great to have us all hang out together. And we’ve been going on fun adventures. We went to Hawley Bog together today. We’ll go to the Bridge of Flowers tomorrow. And we’ve visited a number of breweries — totally appropriate for Brewers.

In a couple of days, they’ll head home and then it will be time to start getting ready for classes to begin in the fall.

So, in the end, it was an expensive lesson. But it’s just money. We had a nice time anyway, even if I didn’t get to go to Glasgow or have the opportunity to promote my writing.

If you want to be a writer, that’s cool. All you have to do is write.

It doesn’t really matter if you get published. Or show anyone what you write. If you write, you’re still a writer.

The more you write, the better you’ll get. If you want to be a good writer, you have to write a lot.

There’s no certain path to being a great writer. Nobody knows what makes a great writer. But all great writers were good writers first.

If you want to be a famous writer, it’s the same. There’s no sure path to fame. But you can’t become a famous writer unless you write and keep writing. Each time you write something and put it out there, there’s the chance it will catch fire and go viral. And that can’t happen if you don’t keeping putting things out there.

There’s no right way to write. Just as there’s no wrong way to write. Just write.

For some people, writing is easy. For some people it’s hard. But there are all kinds of writers and you can be one of them.

If you show your writing to other people, some of them will like it and some of them will hate it. But if you like your writing, that’s enough.

And if you don’t like your own writing, you can write more. And the more you write, the better your writing will become.

Don’t let anyone discourage you from writing if that’s you want to do. If you want to write, write.

(with apologies to Charles Bukowski)

As July ends, I typically find myself consumed with regrets. With August imminent, I sulk as I see the end of summer approaching and recognize I need to start working to get ready for the fall. And I invariably feel like I didn’t accomplish enough during the summer. I didn’t relax enough, enjoy myself, write enough, travel enough, etc.

Enough. I need to let go of these regrets and just let myself enjoy the time that I have. So today, on the last day of July, I propose to do exactly that. It doesn’t matter if I don’t write. Or don’t organize my office. Or don’t register for some upcoming conference. I need to just not dwell on negative thoughts and let myself be happy.

Let the good times roll!

I made a ‘zine about the Better Angels with photos, descriptions, vital statistics, and their “three measurements.” You can get one by ordering a signed copy of Better Angels: Tour de Force from the publisher.

Last year, before Baycon, I created a ‘zine about the Islands of Revin’s Heart. I had made a map of the islands (for my own purposes mostly) and saw this as a way to get it to people. Plus it was just a fun way to do something creative. I like playing with graphics and design and page layout.

I did the page layout using Scribus. Scribus is free software for desktop publishing. I’m told Scribus is similar to QuarkXpress though I’ve never used the commercial software. I learned it twenty years ago and have laid out five books of haiku and art with it. I have also taught countless students to use it to make scientific posters. When I ran a poster printer, you could count on Scribus to generate correctly-structured postscript files that would actually print accurately — unlike most other apps people use (cough Powerpoint cough).

When I wrote the Better Angels, I had the idea for a ‘zine that would be a guide to each of the Angels that would include a snapshot and other information. I originally had the idea when we did the cover, but we were both busy and so I didn’t push the issue then. But this summer, I finally got around to requesting the artist to create the snapshots of the Angels for me.

The snapshots turned out great! She provided nine (one for each Angel), plus one bonus “freebie.” The artist, Kelley York of Sleepy Fox Studio, does fantastic work. She really captured a whole series of cute expressions for each Angel. (Note: the images are computer-generated (CG), but not AI generated. Although, since the Better Angels are non-human biological androids, I rather like the uncanny-valley-esque appearance of the CG photos.

Originally, I was planning that the photos would be just headshots. But that proved to be difficult, because their costumes are off-the-shoulder and so they simply looked naked! After some consideration, we zoomed the photos out just a bit so you can see the top of their magical-girl dresses.

I had originally planned to give the ‘zines away at Worldcon, since I would be unable to sell copies of my books there directly. But, when the organizers declined to allow me to be a participant, I canceled my travel plans altogether. So now I have the ‘zines, but don’t have any immediate plans to attend a con where I could give them away.

Instead, you can get a copy of the ‘zine by ordering a signed copy of Better Angels: Tour de Force from the publisher. I will include a free copy of the ‘zine with every book. It’s a really nice book, BTW — especially the hardcover edition! And signed by the author!

I don’t imagine this promotion will somehow kick off a whirlwind of purchases but you never know, right? Sometimes you just have to sow the wind and hope for the best.

In May of 2022, I had an idea for a new story. I had basically just finished the last part of Revin’s Heart and was looking for something new to write. At the SFWA Writing Date I banged out a 1,900 word pilot and immediately knew that, what I had, was the first chapter of a novel. The semester was just ending, and so I had plenty of time to write. I worked assiduously and, in little more than a month, I had finished the rough draft of a 50,000 word novel.

A young man desperately wants a strong magical familiar but, instead, is captured and made the familiar of a powerful demon that intends to train him up for something. But what?

When I reached the end of what I had intended to write, I kept having fun ideas about what the characters could do afterwards. This happened about three times until I remembered that I was the author and I could just keep writing. I ended up writing two more chapters and another whole ending.

I revised and polished the manuscript over the summer. I got good comments from my faithful beta reviewers. My younger son, rolling his eyes, commented that he had been worried about his own writing being too weird until he read this manuscript. Sometimes the meaning of your life is only to serve as a warning to others. By fall, I was ready to start trying to submit it for publication.

I checked with Water Dragon first, but they were in the middle of publishing Revin’s Heart and Better Angels, so it didn’t work into their schedule.

I briefly considered trying to pitch it to an agent. But I decided it wasn’t really long enough and was weird enough that it would fit better at a small press. I saw one small press looking for “cozy fantasies” so I pitched it to them. I mean, I think of it as cozy fantasy. Unfortunately, they didn’t see it that way, objecting to “overt themes of sexual abuse and sexual coercion” — which seems harsh and exaggerated to me. But, they can publish what they want. I tried a few other publishers but had a hard time finding a home for the manuscript: it’s too cozy to be dark and too dark to be cozy.

I was gratified when I got Water Dragon to take another look at it this spring, since I thought it would be a good fit. And, this time, they agreed! I have now signed the contract and it will be worked into the schedule to come out this winter.

I really like this story and I think readers will like it too. I can’t wait to get it into your hands!

On July 15 (less than a month before the convention) I was notified that my request to be a participant at Worldcon was declined. I was pretty disappointed. Since I had been given eight participant roles at my previous Worldcon, I had expected I would get at least some role — even if just to read. But I was not selected for anything.

Given the huge expense of traveling internationally coupled with the heightened risk of COVID transmission on long flights — plus the decision of the convention to not require masking — I decided to cancel my travel plans altogether and not attend the convention.

Given my health issues, I had purchased fully refundable plane tickets. I will have to pay a non-refundable deposit to the hotel. And, of course, I paid the registration cost of the convention. But the expense is little compared to the disappointment of not being a participant.

Maybe next year.

My younger son and I brought books for Water Dragon Publishing and Small Publishing in a Big Universe (SPBU) to Readercon33. It was the first time we’ve tried to sell books at that convention. We did alright. Many of the other vendors said that sales were down from last year, which was a little strange as the number of attendees was higher.

I’ve now run — or helped run — a dealer table at a convention perhaps a dozen times. At most conventions, the dealer tables are much more diverse. Often, there are t-shirts, jewelry, gaming supplies, artwork, etc. But Readercon is almost exclusively book-focused. Since we’re also (almost) exclusively book-focused, it seemed like an opportune moment for reflection on our process: what we’re doing right and wrong. I thought I’d share my thoughts here.

As my first step, I decided to walk around and photograph all of the other dealer tables in the bookstore to reflect on differences between what we’re doing and what other groups are doing to gauge effectiveness and assess what we’re doing right and what we could improve.

It’s hard to make too many generalizations because a lot of decisions are site- and con-specific. In this case, our tables began second along the main aisle people took into the bookstore. The tables made an L with two tables along the main aisle and one at 90 degrees forming an aisle to right. Since people were entering and walking along the main aisle — and couldn’t see our banners at a distance — I put some signage at the end of the table that people would be facing as they came in the door. And, where there was a gap where tables abutted at the corner, I had a small aluminum table I could fit in the gap that gave us some extra space.

I also made some site-specific decisions about organizing books. In general, I put a book in front on a bookstand, a second book behind on a stack of books, and a third book on a taller stack of books at the back. I put the books by attending authors in the front along the section people came to first. I put the rack with the “Dragon Gems” short fiction books in the corner, and I put the anthologies just around the corner in a group. Finally, I tried to put authors with multiple books in a row so you could see book one, book two, and book three in a series in a row. I kept a two-book wide space open in the back for a spot where authors could sign books. And placed giveaway items (cards, ribbons, stickers, etc) in the front. Each book has a colored price tag tucked in between the pages sticking up where it’s easily viewed.

A few observations…

It makes a huge difference for an author to be there. There’s almost no point in having books available from authors who aren’t at the con. And certainly it doesn’t make sense to feature their books. Speaking of which…

I think we may have too many books on display. People seemed to be daunted by the sheer number of titles: we had around 50 Water Dragon titles (spread over 2.5 tables) and more than 20 SPBU titles on one table. It was a cacophany of different authors and genres. People couldn’t decide what to focus on. And, looking at other booksellers that have shelves, we didn’t get many people that would stay to browse, perhaps because people felt self-conscious with us just standing there. Having bookshelves might really help so people can more comfortably browse. I also wonder if we might do better having more books simply spread out on the table and fewer books on bookstands: so the books on bookstands stand out more. Currently, people seem overwhelmed. I think we’d do much better to feature a handful of books: the books by authors at the con and a handful of the newest books. But the others should be much less prominently displayed: people should be able to browse them, but they shouldn’t be set up in parallel with the books we’re featuring. Ideally, they should be in bookshelves. But see below…

We’re limited by the scale of our operation. It would be great to have bookshelves, but we need everything to fit in a volunteer’s car: we don’t have a package truck to move rolling bookshelves like the other book stores. Similarly with respect to signage: it would be great to have some kind of lighted overhead sign, but with only one or two people setting up — and needing to fit everything in a regular passenger vehicle, there are limitations.

Signage: We have banners hanging from the tables. Behind the table, we have a tall standing banner and I bring the covers of two of my books printed on foam board that stand up on easels. Other places have table-top signs, computer displays, or overhead frames with lighting and signs. I think our signage is pretty good — I saw someone taking a picture of my book covers and the standing banner, which made me feel pretty good. Our banners are 8 feet long which is too long when the table is only six feet. It might be worth getting 6 foot banners which will fit better on a 6-foot table, but still look OK on an 8-foot table.

Some of the vendors use QR codes extensively. If we had signage with QR codes, it might be helpful to make it easier for people to visit our websites. At first, I put QR codes on my book covers with the links for Kindle, Barnes & Noble, and the publisher. One guy used them. But with the book covers farther back, behind the table, it didn’t seem worth it. But maybe its worth putting up more QR codes.

I almost didn’t see anyone else using visible price tags on books. I have some inkscape files with price tags at the edges of paper. I print them on colorful card stock, cut them up, and stick them in between the pages of our books. A few groups that had books laying flat on the table (like the Clarkesworld table) had some price tags laying on the covers. I remember at Rhode Island Comic Con, having price tags was really important as everyone kept asking how much stuff cost. I keep meaning to make sure I get enough of each price printed (every time I end up having to write a bunch by hand which is not difficult, but annoying). Just having different colors is good, as it adds visual interest.It would also be good to have a consistent color scheme so that the different colors of tags “mean” something. If we used colors consistently and had a key (e.g. blue for fantasy, orange for scifi, pink for romance, etc). Still, it would be hard to pigeonhole the books since it might also be nice to mark which are LGBTQIA+ and what do you do about “romantasy” and other cross-genre books?

Some groups have various giveways or raffles where people can sign up. This would be a really good idea to get people onto our mailing list. One table had a kind of gumball machine that had little plastic containers with prices — maybe on slips of paper? At Boskone, MIT press had people fill out slips of paper for a chance to win a boxed edition of a beautiful, colorful edition of a D&D book. We need something like that. Alternatively, a tablet computer where people could enter their email address directly might be good. But that might need power.

Depending on how one could set up the bookstore, it might be fun to have some seating. People might look at books longer if they had a place to sit down while browsing. That couldn’t work in some setups, but it might sometimes be possible.

Sometimes, we’ve had some kind of display on the tables. Lisa had a treasure chest once. And Jay Hartlove had a mermaid mannequin for his Mermaid Steel books. I’m not sure it always makes sense, but something that adds visual interest is always worth considering.

The most important part of running a book table is having effective pitches for the books. As people walk by the table, I usually ask people either “Would you like to be an airship pirate?” or “May I tell you about my books?” People are usually amenable to letting me make a pitch. It only works about 10% of the time. But nearly all of the sales I make are directly the result of me making a pitch. If you don’t have some kind of pitch there’s no way for someone to pick your book out from all of the others. I would pitch all of the books except most of the authors haven’t provided a pitch for me to use for their books.

Almost everyone has now heard of CRISPR — the miraculous new technique for editing DNA. But few people are aware of where it came from. It’s a story that everyone should know, because it speaks to the importance of basic research.

Before I tell the story, you should be aware that the United States basically doesn’t fund basic research anymore. Only about 10% of grants are funded, so scientists waste 90% of their time writing proposal after proposal hoping to get funded. In order to get funded, most scientists are forced to twist their research interests into some kind of applied-science pretzel to make it seem like their research is about some hideous disease that affects orphans in order to get funding.

So, CRISPR… there was this guy in Spain who got little trickles of funding now and again to study a weird bacterium that lives in salt marshes. In studying this bacterium, he eventually got it sequenced and discovered it had these weird sequences that didn’t make sense. He showed them to people and nobody could explain what they were doing there. Eventually, he discovered that the bacteria could snip out sequences from viruses and include them in its own DNA as a kind of primitive immune system to recognize if it had seen a virus before. But it was this ability to copy-and-paste these sequences of DNA that led directly to the development of CRISPR.

Nobody could ever have predicted that funding a guy to tromp around in waders in a salt marsh would lead to the most transformative genetic engineering technique thus far discovered. That’s the magic of basic research. But you can say goodbye to these kinds of discoveries because, as I say, the US basically doesn’t fund basic research anymore.

It’s been sad to watch BayCon happening and to not be there. Last year, I traveled to BayCon and got to meet my publisher and a bunch of the other authors with Water Dragon Publishing. This year, I decided I couldn’t attend because they no longer required masking.

Due to my health conditions I need to cautious of respiratory infections. Up to now, I’ve only attended conventions where masking was required. (Except for Rhode Island Comic Con early in the pandemic, where I ended up getting the respiratory infection that put me in the hospital.) Unfortunately, ReaderCon, which I’m attending next week, may be the last convention where full masking is required. I decided to attend WorldCon in Glasgow in August before their COVID policy had been established, but they adopted a policy of “masking recommended”) and I suspect that is going to be the trend going forward — until we have the H5N1 pandemic or something.

So I didn’t go to BayCon this year. And now I’m watching my fellow authors attend and feeling sad that I’m missing out.

Partly, I’m just remembering the wonderful trip that my son and I took to drive all across the country. That was amazing! We saw so many wonderful things and visited a lot of people along the way.

I do have WorldCon coming up in just a month. That’s going to be exciting, although I’m not really looking forward to the trans-Atlantic flight. And all of the rigamarole of crossing an international border. I still remember the misery of going through the hideous check point at Heathrow. It was in a gymnasium-sized room with a line that snaked back and forth 8 or 10 times until it reached a line of booths. We spent at least an hour shuffling back and forth across the room until we finally got to the booths. It was horrible.

I learned a long time ago that I have a lot of inertia. When I haven’t traveled for a while, I don’t want to go. I’m comfortable not going anywhere. But, once I start traveling, I’m happy traveling and then I don’t want to stop. So I know that once I start going, I’ll have fun.

That said, it’s hard watching everyone enjoying themselves at BayCon and not be able to be there.

Oh, well. There’s always next year.

Last winter, during Intersession, I was inspired to write a short story. It was accepted for publication in Romancing the Rainbow, an anthology by Enrapturing Tales. I wrote a little author’s note to describe it.

This weird little story weaves together a bunch of imagery that has played out in my imagination for many years.

The setting is an island, strongly influenced by my many visits to a Caribbean island. The time is vaguely in the future, after an apocalyptic war that has left the remaining humanity sheltering in arcologies due to persistent bioweapon spores.

And the characters are artificially constructed organisms: one is the embodiment of an elite weapon that used to be treated with great respect and privilege. She is now viewed, not unreasonably perhaps, with distrust and suspicion. The other was constructed to serve people—but now all of the people she used to serve are gone.

Thrown together by circumstance, these two very different characters must try to understand each other—and themselves.

Author’s Note: Always a Destroyer

The book is a fundraiser in honor of an editor, LJ Hachmeister, who passed away recently. She had just organized an anthology fundraiser for a good cause, but didn’t live long enough to see the fruition of her work. I submitted my sotyr knowing that at least half of the proceeds would go to her family. I donated all of my share of the royalties, as did several others, so more than 80% of the proceeds will go to the cause. I hope folks will buy the work to support her family in their grief. And I hope they enjoy my weird little story. I think it’s one of my better pieces of short fiction.

When my brother Philip attends a party he invariably comments, “Am I not the socialest of all possible butterflies?” This week, I felt like a socialist butterfly my own self.

When my wife was involved in local politics (chiefly 2002-2022), she loved attending social events. It was an important part of why she was so effective. I occasionally got to attend as arm candy, though it’s not really my thing. I joke that when we first arrived, she was my wife. But after she became one of the most well-known people in town, I became her husband. It’s nice to attend events with her because she knows everyone and can remind me who is who. I’m terrible with faces and names.

For Pride, I went to a flag raising at Town Hall. It was fun to see all my queer friends. After the flag raising there was a presentation by Justice Roderick Ireland, one of judges that decided the constitutional question that enabled same-sex marriage in Massachusetts 20 years ago, followed by a panel discussion. Unfortunately, the event was indoors, so I was unable to attend. But my friends who were there said it was very moving.

Next, we attended a giant party that was a fundraiser for the Family Outreach of Amherst. They run two events annually, Warm Up the Night in the fall and Light Up the Night in the spring. They’re huge events that have a number of vendors that bring samples of beverages and foods and attract hundreds of people to eat, drink, mingle, and chat. We saws dozens of people, including the UMassAmherst Chancellor whom I have been in meetings with dozens of times, but had not been able to meet face-to-face (since I can’t attend indoor meetings).

My union held a get together for a co-president who’s stepping back after many years of service. It was a smaller event, but still with a lot of people and social interaction.

Finally, the Amherst town council president holds a “garden party” at her home every year that, once again, attracts many of the politically active people from the town and University. Once again the Chancellor was there, so I got to hang out with him for the second time in a week. Our state rep was there. And our former state senator. After the long isolation during the height of the pandemic it was nice to catch up and reconnect with people we haven’t seen in a year or more.

My wife had even more events, but that was enough for me for a while. Now I’m ready to stay home and get back to my writing.

Since 2002, I have been teaching the course Writing in Biology at the University of Massachusetts Amherst. Every major is obligated to offer a course of writing in their discipline for juniors. Different instructors are offered broad latitude to teach the course as they want. But my focus has always been on scientific writing.

Most students come into the course having recently taken a creative writing class, the Writing Program’s College Writing course. Most of them believe the they already know how to write well and are skeptical that my course is going to teach them anything. Frequently they’re surprised. I describe my course as “Uncreative Writing.”

By their junior year in college, most students have written a vast number of review papers. And I’ve found that if students have sources to draw from, they can write amazingly well — especially with the spell-check and grammar-check that modern word processors offer (provided they use them which, sadly, not all students do.) But in my course, I invite them to do projects where they have to describe their own actions scientifically. And, all of a sudden, they don’t have models for the language they need to write. When that happens, you hear *their* voice. And it’s not scientific at all. That’s what I want them to work on.

I found an excellent resource many years ago that I use to help support them learning the characteristics of scientific discourse. Talking Science, by Jay Lemke, is actually a study of the semiotics of science classrooms. On page 133 is a list of stylistic norms of scientific language: Be verbally explicit and universal. Avoid colloquial forms of language. Use technical terms. Avoid personification. Avoid metaphorical and figurative language. Be serious and dignified. Avoid personalities and references to individuals. Avoid reference to fiction or fantasy. Use causal forms of explanation and avoid narrative and dramatic accounts.” Lemke comments this is a recipe for “dull, alienating language”. In fact, the chapter of the book is actually about constructing educational environments that could demystify science and reduce dependance these norms. But I provide them to my students as a set of heuristics, or hacks, to help their writing pass muster with other scientists.

By the end of the course, many students tell me how surprised they are to have learned so much. And, after the course, I’ve had students tell me in subsequent years how what they learned has helped them get better grades and prepare them for work in science. One student told me he had a “love/hate relationship” with my class: he hated it because it made him do something difficult that he could tell he wasn’t good at, but — at the same time — he recognized the importance of improving his abilities.

I will get to teach this class four more times before I retire and wrap up my career.

My father passed away last year, just short of 90 years old. He had been suffering from dementia for several years and he could no longer recognize me or remember who I was. But, even before then, we were not close. He maintained contact with me out of a kind of weird sense of obligation. When we spoke, there was an implicit understanding that I would tell him things about his grandchildren — not because he was genuinely interested in them, but because he needed to know things about them to fend off his wife who believed he should take an interest in them. At least, that was how it felt to me.

My father did not like me as a child or, especially, as a young adult. He was always clever with a quip or turn of phrase, often at the expense of other people. As a child, when he turned this form of “humor” on me, I felt compelled to do the same to him. But where he could be clever, I was merely offensive and he was often furious with me for being obnoxious and rude. Once he angrily told me to get out of the car on the side of the road miles from anywhere, driving a short distance ahead, and then stopping and angrily telling me to get back in the car.

He lamented that I was lazy and fat and a poor student. He made it clear that I did not measure up. As a teenager, I became withdrawn and antisocial. When I started smoking, he was livid and told my mother he was writing me off. My mother said she would be glad to take me. My relationship with my mother was probably what saved me: she always loved both her children unconditionally and without qualification.

As a child, I craved approval and wanted to be closer to my father, but he only accepted interaction on his terms. He was never interested in learning about or doing any of the things I wanted to do. But there were places where our interests aligned. He spent a lot of time in the field as a biologist. And, as I expressed an interest in herpetology, I could go with him into the field and — while he looked for birds — I would scour the ground for reptiles and amphibians.

When I finished my PhD and was hired for a faculty position at a prestigious university, I remember he took me aside and grudgingly admitted that I had turned out OK. I think that was the first time I ever felt like he had given me any real measure of approval.

He was pleased when I had children. As a biologist, he was very interested in the idea of children carrying forward his genes. He wasn’t actually interested in the children themselves, however. He didn’t really like children and wasn’t interested in getting to know them as people. He had always seen his own children as objects and his grandchildren were objects too. I tried to get him to spend time with his grandchildren and invited him to take them on outings. But he never did. He would say, “Well, if you need me to watch them sometime, I guess I could do that.” And I would reply, “We don’t ever need you to ‘watch’ them — but if you’d like to spend time with them or take them somewhere, that would be great.” But, as I say, he never did.

It was a surprise to me that, when my father died, many of his former colleagues and students remembered him at his funeral as an extremely attentive and devoted friend and mentor. It sounded like he maintained a network of close collegial relationships where he checked in with a vast network of people on a daily or weekly basis. It was a side of him I never would have predicted based on my own personal experiences.

So, on Father’s Day, I reflect on my “relationship” with my father. I intentionally strove to be a different kind of father. I tried to see my children as people from an early age and to not try to live my life through them. I tried to take an interest in things they liked to do and to find ways to relate to them through their interests. But I know also that I’m not a perfect father either. And so I’ve tried grant my father a certain amount of understanding by acknowledging that he was doing the best he could with what he had in terms of his native personality and the experiences he had growing up.

Happy Father’s Day, Dad.

At the 2024 Nebulas convention, I attended of the very last sessions, Planning Your Own Publicity Campaign presented by KC Grifant, Jaye Viner, Eva Elasigue, and Robyn Dabney. It was a great presentation but, as I said in my earlier post about the Nebulas, I didn’t feel like there was a whole lot here that was new to me. It was still nice to know that I wasn’t missing anything obvious. Since I took relatively detailed notes, I thought I’d summarize them here.

The first question for the panel related to the timeline for planning a publicity campaign. Aim to start at least a year out: establish an online presence for yourself: set up a website, start a newsletter, identify people to help and support your campaign, and make a plan. Three to six months out, you should start trying to schedule in-person events (readings, book signings, etc.) You can find a lot of resources on the internet about running a book launch and you should educate yourself. And make sure to have fun.

Another question asked what can you expect your publisher to do. The short answer, of course, is doodlysquat. In the past, trad-pub’ed authors could expect a publisher to mount a publicity campaign for you, but that’s pretty rare now. Small presses mostly don’t have the resources to do very much. They might contact some of the higher-tier trade reviews and provide ARCs, but you mostly have to do the rest. Reviews are critical. The panels suggested reaching out to book bloggers, bookstagrammers, and booktokkers and the like: familiarize with their work to make sure they review stuff like yours, politely send a message with an ARC, and don’t follow-up or expect a response.

Several people talked about planning joint events with other authors, which can increase the draw for readings and signings.

Most panelists agreed that your local indy bookstore is, after your publisher, the most important relationship to foster. They are generally supportive of genre fiction and can help you organize a launch event. Local libraries can also be effective partners.

The moderator asked how people spent money in support of their campaign. Few panelists found advertising to be very effective. It’s an artform and requires a lot of expertise to pull it off effectively. This is consistent with my experience as well. One mentioned boosting some posts at Facebook for $15. But swag was a popular thing to spend some money on: stickers, bookmarks, and other promotional materials. And events: conferences, conventions and, in particular, local comicons, which would often have an “authors alley” where you sell books and meet with fans.

One potential way to spend money is to hire publicist. Nobody on the panel had worked with one. One suggested that they tended to be outrageously expensive (e.g. a $10k monthly minimum).

They mentioned some expenses that didn’t really sound like “publicity” to me. One mentioned the importance to a cover when selling on the internet and not cheap out. Also it might be worth paying for a developmental editor to help sharpen your story. Or line editing. These are definitely important, but seem like they should be part of the publishing process. But perhaps important to remember for self-publishers.

They finally offered a few closing thoughts: Don’t try to do everything. Go for it, but remember to be happy with your book. And, finally, always be writing the next thing.

For the first time, in many, many years, I’m actually free this summer.

When I began my career at the University, I was hired on a 12-month appointment to direct the Biology Computer Resource Center (BCRC). After the first year, the chairman — with some help from the dean — rewrote my job classification to put me on a 9-month appointment so that I would be able to apply for grants to supplement my salary during the summer. But, with the understanding, that I would not “vanish” during the summer and would be available to provide support to students and faculty that needed it.

In point of fact, the summer was indispensable for running the BCRC because it was then that I could update software, replace hardware, and build the server infrastructure that made running the facility possible. It was the only period when I had the uninterrupted blocks of time needed to really accomplish significant projects. And I did: setting up instructional materials and resources, engaging in curriculum design, and writing papers.

Perhaps eight years ago, I proposed to develop an online version of the writing class I teach to be taught during the summer. Most summer classes are taught only over a 6-week period. I tried the class that way but found it unsatisfactory: students can’t write enough in 6 weeks to get a full-semester’s worth of writing experience. So I taught the course over the full 13-week period spanning both summer sessions. And that worked pretty well. It was a pretty light load spread out that way, but it was still an obligation.

When the Biology Department closed the BCRC and rewrote my job description during the pandemic, I no longer had the obligation to spend my summers working on infrastructure, but I continued to teach the writing class. This year, however, I decided to stop. Mostly, I just wanted to have the time to write, but the fact that I would have had to migrate all of the teaching materials to a different LMS played no small role in my decision as well. I notified the Department back in October I wouldn’t be teaching it, so they could find someone else, if they wanted to. But nobody stepped up.

But, for the first time in nearly 30 years, I’m free of obligations during the summer. I can’t say I don’t like it, because it’s glorious. It’s not like I’m not “working” in that I’ve already written tens of thousands of words of fiction. But it’s great to be able to focus without distractions — and to let serendipity guide how I spend each day.

I’m looking forward to retirement.

For the second year, I proposed myself as a participant for the Nebulas Science Fiction/Fantasy Writers Association (SFWA) convention, but wasn’t selected. I was on the fence about attending and agonized for several days but, at the last minute, decided to register for the online track. I’m glad I did.

In point of fact, I don’t feel like I learned all that much. I attended panels about novellas and novelettes, short fiction, genres, making a collection, religion, microfiction, LGBTQIA+ characters, and book promotion. The panels were fine, but I’ve been involved in publishing and marketing my own books now for long enough that these topics are mostly familiar. Even if I didn’t learn much new, that’s useful too: determining that there isn’t something obvious that I’ve been missing.

I spent a fair amount of time networking with people via Zoom. I met a bunch of new people and reconnected with a number of people I’d met before. Being unable to socialize much due to my health circumstances, I really value the opportunity to meet with people remotely.

One person I saw was someone I had clashed with in a different, text-based, online environment. I was somewhat concerned that it would be awkward but, as has typically happened with me, when you’re dealing with people face-to-face, someone that’s happy to flame and deride you in text, will instead be nice as pie. I like to think I’m pretty much the same person regardless of context and circumstances, so I’m always surprised when other people who will slam you in writing, will turn out to be perfectly nice to your face. Weird.

I would have liked to stay up the award ceremony, especially to hang out in the Zoom session to chat with people while it was going on. But the event, running on Pacific Time, didn’t start until 11pm and I just couldn’t make myself stay up that late. So went to bed early.

As an author, I’m constantly looking for ways to get the word out about my work and to engage with readers and other authors. And one part of my strategy is social media.

Before social media, there were blogs. Long before I was a published author, I started blogging. I first start blogging using a wiki, then switched to Drupal. I maintained a blog at Esperanto-USA while I was webmaster there. Many people used blogs primarily to link to and comment on the other things they were reading.

Most people didn’t have the technical chops or resources to set up their own blogging environment, so they chose a site managed by a third party. Typically, these were offered “free” in a limited form as a kind of loss-leader supported by venture capitalist trying to make a bet on what the “next big thing” was going to be.

One of the most popular with authors was Livejournal. I wasn’t a published author in those days, but I was aware of the robust author community there. But when Livejournal was purchased by the Russian state and began to censor and persecute users, most of the writer community abandoned it.

This was around the time people began to use microblogging platforms that became what people collectively termed “social media”. The most popular with authors was probably Twitter, which I’ve written about elsewhere. As I took my first steps into the author community, it was great to have a place where the other authors were active: sharing perspectives and supporting one another. And occasionally quarreling.

I predicted that when Twitter became a Nazi bar, the community would move somewhere else. I was hopeful that they would settle on Mastodon. With Livejournal getting purchased by a repressive regime and then Twitter getting purchased by a narcissistic billionaire, I thought maybe they would have learned something. Unfortunately, it appears that the largest part of the active author community has settled at Blue Sky where they are once against suckling on the teat of venture capital.

But there is no longer a clear center. Blue Sky seems to have more of the established authors. But the largest microblogging community may well be Threads. And Facebook and Instagram are still the largest overall communities, though young people are more likely to be on Tiktok or Discord.

So it’s not at all clear which community is the best to focus on. I’m still guided by a presentation about book promotion I attended a couple of years ago that said, “Don’t pressure yourself to do it all.” I like the community at Mastodon. So that’s where I spend the most time. And I forward a few of my more announcement like posts at Blue Sky and Facebook. And then I call it a day. Because, in the end, I would rather spend my time writing new fiction.

For Pride, I will be bringing the Water Dragon Publishing table to the Mill District Queer Artisan Market on June 23, 2024. I plan to bring a rich selection of the LGBTQIA+ offerings that Water Dragon offers — featuring my own works, of course.

I think the very time I ever sold books was at the first Queer Pop-up Market in 2022. At the time, I only had the first two novelettes of Revin’s Heart out, The Third Time’s the Charm and For the Favor of a Lady. Storm Clouds Gather was about to be released. I printed out business cards to hand out with the QR code for the landing page on the back.

I didn’t yet have a real table or a canopy or signage or anything. But when I look at how far I’ve come with doing the work, it’s nostalgic to look back and remember how new and exciting it all was. I did pretty well in terms of sales too: I sold perhaps a dozen copies — not bad at all for a new author with only the first two books of a series.

The Queer Pop-up Market was canceled in 2023, so I didn’t get to do it last year. But I’m glad they’re doing it again this year. I had a great time doing it the first time and I’m really looking forward to being back at the Mill District again.

After that, the next event I’m scheduled to do is Readercon July 11-14, 2024. Although they rejected me as a participant, I’m still going to attend to staff tables for Water Dragon Publishing and Small Publishing in a Big Universe Marketplace. I’ve heard that this is a particularly good event for selling books, so I’m hopeful we’ll do well there.

In 2017-2018, I drafted a proposal for a Professional Improvement Fellowship at UMass Amherst. This new program offered non-tenure-system faculty, after 10 years of service, a semester of professional release to accomplish a significant academic project — not unlike sabbatical for tenure system faculty. The creation of the Professional Improvement Fellowship program was the outcome of two years of difficult negotiations during the period that I served on our faculty and librarian union’s bargaining committee. Having been in the Biology Department at UMass Amherst for nearly 20 years at that point, I was very eager to participate in this program.

Every UMass Amherst honors student needs to complete a thesis in order to graduate with honors. In the Biology Department, especially, there are too few opportunities for individually-contracted honors theses, so the Commonwealth Honors College had developed a course type where a group of 12-15 students could work with a faculty member over two semesters to write a thesis. But at that time there were no honors thesis seminars offered in the life sciences, so my proposal was to have students develop a scientific instrument to collect data about some life science question.

In addition to years of teaching Writing in Biology to juniors, and running the now-shuttered Biology Computer Research Center, I had already co-taught a one semester Maker course that tried to have students do projects like this in a single semester, but it turned out that just wasn’t enough time: students could sorta learn the technology, but often didn’t have time to actually make anything, let alone collect enough data to do anything with it. So proposing it take place over two semesters made sense to me. Plus, the Commonwealth Honors College offers research grants to students that could provide them funding to buy the necessary components.

The first year I pitched the proposal for Open Science Instrumentation and Data Collection to the Biology Department it was rejected. But with a different chair the following year, it was accepted and I was awarded a fellowship with a full release from my professional duties during Spring 2020 to develop the materials for the course. I then worked for three months in the large metal shed UMass Amherst All-Campus Makerspace using the Software Carpentry curriculum model to develop modules to set up a Raspberry Pi, use the Pi to program an Arduino via the command line, program in python, and then use python to access the General-purpose input/output (GPIO).

As it turned out, however, something else happened that spring: in March 2020, UMass Amherst closed down due to the COVID-19 pandemic, which bluntly took a lot of the fun out of my fellowship. My mother has lived with us since our eldest was two and she was now at high risk of complications from the virus, as was I, so now instead of walking to the Makerspace, I could safely use only the office in my partially finished basement (where I’m still writing now) to work remotely. Travel to learn more about projects elsewhere was no longer possible.

A centerpiece of my proposed course was that students would be working in the All-Campus Makerspace. But with the campus still functionally closed the following fall, I decided to adapt the course to be taught remotely via Zoom. I had a relatively small number of students the first year, but it actually all worked astonishingly well. Honors students are amazing: they have brilliant ideas, are willing to work incredibly hard, and have the self-discipline to work independently.

Typically for an honors thesis, a student is adopted into a research lab, learns the approaches being used in the lab, and becomes familiar with the specific literature that underlies the research enterprise. In my course, by contrast, students came up with some idea of their own and pursued it to the best of their ability. I have always believed that the traditional university education gives students far too few opportunities to pursue their own questions. Many students who take my Junior Year Writing in Biology class, that also requires students to write a proposal and conduct a small research project, say that it is the first time they’ve done anything at UMass Amherst that wasn’t simply following directions. Juniors say that.

Students do come up with amazing ideas. Here are just a handful of the ones from the first semester of Open Science Instrumentation and Data Collection:
“Utilizing Background Oriented Schlieren Imaging to Slow the Spread of Respiratory Disease”
“Automated recording of daily vibroacoustic and behavioral activity in Xylocopa virginica”
“A Novel High Frame Rate Photography System for Optical Motion Tracking of Insect Flight”

Over four years, I supervised a total of 44 honors theses like these where students built a scientific instrument to collect a body of data to gain insight into some life science question. Each project lies at the intersection of life sciences (designing the question and data collection strategy), engineering (selecting a hardware platform, sensors, and wiring them together), and informatics (programming the hardware platform to receive and record the data).

One of my original design criteria for the course was that there would be no artificial deadlines; the only deadlines were external ones: for the Honors Research Grant, for the Undergraduate Research Conference in the spring they were obligated to present as a condition of their Honors Research Grant funding, and for their final portfolio itself at the end of the Spring semester. All of the other milestones and deadlines they had to establish for themselves.

In the fall semester, I led the students through the course materials I had developed about using the Raspberry Pi and Arduino while at the same time they developed their research questions and wrote proposals for an Honors Research Grant, which was typically due in October. In addition, each week I had a one-on-one consultation with every student. That allowed me to offer individual advice and guidance, plus technical (and sometimes emotional) support, and it gave each student an excuse to be accountable for staying on track. Some students chose to use every minute of the consultation to work together with me, while others just wanted to check in and then work independently.

In the spring, students built, tested, and used their devices. Once their funds were available, they submitted orders, received their components, and built a prototype. We budgeted enough money for them to test the prototype to re-engineer and build a final device. At the same time, students needed to submit an abstract and prepare a presentation for the Undergraduate Research Conference, usually far in advance of completing their data collection. And, in the end, students wrote up a Creative Portfolio to submit as their thesis document.

Students learned a lot, both about the subject and themselves. They learned the science of their question by conducting a literature review. They developed technical skills using the educational materials and exploring the hardware platforms. They learned about agile project management to manage a large, long-term project. And they got to learn about the red tape of trying to order things via a large institution.

In Spring 2024, after a year of serious health issues that required I only teach remotely, I decided to pursue a phased retirement where I would teach half-time (remotely) for two years and then retire. I proposed to continue to teach this honors thesis seminar, which is still the only life science honors thesis seminar, is very popular with the students that take it, and (I believe) a nearly unique course in the world. But the Biology Department refused: apparently the “credit” for the course accrues to the wrong college. Instead, I will continue teaching my Writing in Biology course and act as the Presiding Officer of the Faculty Senate.

I’m sad to not be able to teach this honors thesis seminar any longer, but I’m gratified that I got to teach it at all: it was an amazing experience to work with so many dedicated students and to give them license to apply their creativity to so many fascinating problems. I learned a vast amount and was never bored while I tried to ride herd on all their weird and wonderful ideas. Students told me they learned more from this experience than any other at UMass Amherst. I will never forget their passion and excitement when, after immense struggles, they finally got something to work. It was the experience of a lifetime.

On May 20, 2024, I served as the Presiding Officer of an Emergency General Faculty Meeting for UMass Amherst. More than a thousand of the faculty were split between a large room on campus and via Zoom. It was by far and away the largest meeting — let alone hybrid meeting — I had ever tried to run.

The meeting was called, following the Constitution of the Faculty Senate, in response to a petition of more than 10% of the faculty and librarians. The meeting had a single agenda item: a resolution calling for no confidence in the Chancellor. On May 7, the Chancellor had directed police to disperse students protesting the war in Gaza. During the police action, students and faculty were arrested and there were some violent clashes between the police and protesters.

The emergency meeting was organized frenetically on extremely short notice during the Commencement weekend. A handful of us on the Rules Committee exchanged hundreds of emails to nail down the agenda, try to develop a mechanism to enable faculty to vote securely, and draft a long and comprehensive set of ground rules for running the meeting.

There were a number of technical challenges. Faculty had difficulty registering, email systems rejected the ballots as spam, the audio from some of the mics was nearly inaudible via Zoom. We did the best we could to resolve the issues and, by the end of the meeting, we had things working about as well as could be reasonably expected.

The meeting went on and on. Passions were high, but most people respected the ground rules and were patient as we worked though the technical issues. We came to the final vote after four hours of discussion and consideration of an amendment to change “no confidence” to “censure”. In the end, more than 800 faculty voted and 473 voted no confidence, so the motion carried. And after four hours and fifteen minutes, I adjourned the meeting.

The vote carries only symbolic weight. The UMass System President and Board of Trustees have expressed their unwavering support of the Chancellor. Still, the resolution minimally provides notice to the Chancellor that hundreds of faculty are incredibly angry and upset. As soon as the vote was announced, he issued a statement expressing disappointment, but accepting the results and promising to work to rebuild trust.

Those of us organizing and running the meeting received many messages of appreciation and support, though not everyone was entirely satisfied. I’m satisfied, however, that we did the very best we could under the circumstances. And I think the outcome speaks for itself.

One thing I realized is that hybrid meetings work a lot better when they’re convened and run by a remote participant. People in the room tend to ignore remote participants. A remote participant is better positioned to make sure everyone gets to fully participate.

But perhaps the most important outcome was that, during the meeting, someone noticed the poster for Revin’s Heart in the background of my Zoom image and bought a copy. They emailed me to ask about order of the series, but I pointed out that the collected edition contains all of the stories — plus some side stories — so they should be all set.

When I agreed to run a vendor booth at the Watch City Steampunk Festival for the Small Publishing in a Big Universe Marketplace, I was hopeful that several authors might also attend to help set up and sell books. It sounded like several authors had expressed interest. But, as the event approached, it became apparent I was going to be on my own. The day before, my wife took pity on me and agreed to go with me to the event to keep me company and, at least, make sure I could go to the bathroom when necessary.

Since I normally get up pretty early anyway, I had been planning to leave early the morning of the event. But my wife suggested we travel the night before and stay in a hotel so we could have a more leisurely time. She tracked down a room for us and made reservations, so — after my last class on Friday — we hopped in the car and drove to Waltham. There was a restaurant across the street from the hotel that had an outdoor patio and a good beer selection, so we had a pleasant evening.

The morning of the event, we drove to the common where the festival was getting set up and, after checking in, found a place to park where I could leave the car that wasn’t too far from where our booth was located. Waltham doesn’t allow vehicles on the common, so we had to move everything from the car about 200 yards. It took about 45 minutes to schlep everything over and then an hour to set up the tent and table, hang the banner and flags, set out the books, and get price tags on everything. But we were easily ready by the time the festival began.

The festival was well attended. There were thousands of people of all ages, many wearing steampunky costumes: top hats with goggles and fascinators; elaborate steampunky backpacks, carts, and gear; dresses with hoop skirts and bustles; and pseudo-victorian clothing. Kevin Harkin of Kevin Harkin Photography shared a gallery of imagery that includes a lot of nice pictures of people’s costumes.I wore my straw fedora with steampunky goggles and my maroon paisley smoking jacket over a t-shirt with the Water Dragon logo. A number of people commented positively on my suitable attire.

Initially, there had been a prediction of rain. In the end, the weather was cloudy but fair. It was a bit cool — not too breezy — with the sun peeking through in the afternoon. If it had been 10 degrees warmer, it would have been perfect.

I developed a pitch to welcome people to the table: “We’re Small Publishing in a Big Universe — a cooperative of independent authors and small presses that have collaborated to stock a table for you. I’m an author with Water Dragon Publishing and, since I’m here, my books are in the middle.” Then I would describe my two books and introduce the books by the other authors. Finally, I would invite them to pick up the books to learn more about them and not hesitate to ask me questions.

We sold a fair number of books. My books sold best: about half the sales were Revin’s Heart followed by Better Angels: Tour de Force and Snail’s Pace (the other fairly steampunky book). I sold two hardcovers, which kind of surprised me and made me glad I’d brought a few. I was disappointed to not be able to sell more books by the other authors. A lot of people took business cards: both SPBU’s and mine.

At the end of the festival, we had to pack everything up and schlep it back to the car. Our feet were pretty sore by this time. Once we finally had everything in the car, we drove to Dirigible Brewing, which was on the way home to have dinner and a well-earned beer.

For my wife and I, the trip was a bit nostalgic because it hearkened back to the time before I went to graduate school when we spent a year on the road together doing educational assemblies. Every morning, we drove to an elementary school unpacked and set up a portable planetarium, did shows, then packed up and headed to the next school. It was a fun time of our lives.

Several people asked if we’d be back next year and I indicated I thought we probably would. It was a lot of work, but also a lot of fun. And it’s always nice to sell some books.

Being an author has ups and downs. It’s a constant rollercoaster. When you submit manuscripts you get acceptances and rejections. The same when you apply to present at conventions. Or apply for grants. You can torment yourself by watching the book scan sales numbers. Or Amazon ranking. Or reviews at Goodreads (and elsewhere).

When good things happen, it’s wonderful. Getting a manuscript accepted is a great feeling.

When bad things happen, you just have to grit your teeth and go on.

But sometimes you have a long run of bad luck. It can get very discouraging when everything seems to get rejected or turned down. When that happens, you question what you’re even doing. Why keep trying? Why bother? Why not just do something else.

I got to see John Hodgman perform in Northampton a few years ago. This was around the time he was promoting Vacationland. One of the themes was the ineffable quality of celebrity. People kept asking him how he became a celebrity, as if there was some secret or recipe. He said he spent a lot of time trying to figure out why *this* thing had gone viral whereas all these other things he’d been doing before or after did not. Eventually, he decided there wasn’t any difference. It was just luck or happenstance. But, even though you couldn’t predict what might lead to success, it was clear that the only way to be sure to fail was to not keep doing your art. It could only happen if you were making stuff and putting it out there.

So, even when I’m down. Even when I feel like nothing is getting traction. Even when I feel like there’s no point. I just keep putting one foot in front of the other and soldiering on. And maybe — just maybe — one of the things I write will find an audience and lead to greater things. Maybe.

Twenty-eight years ago, I joined the Biology Department at the University of Massachusetts Amherst. As a freshly-minted PhD in Science Education, I was hired to the direct the Biology Computer Resource Center (BCRC) — a small computer lab that was both a computer classroom and drop-in space for undergraduates.

I really enjoyed the educational and technical work I did for the Department and University. The Internet was new and we built a lot of interesting and innovative educational resources. When I was hired, I had no formal teaching responsibilities, but over time I developed a number of face-to-face and online classes which offered unique learning opportunities for students.

During the pandemic, the Department closed the BCRC and my job responsibilities became solely teaching. When I was no longer obligated to spend all of my summers, breaks, and intersessions maintaining computer systems, I decided to repurpose that time for writing fiction. Since then, I’ve published several short stories and two books of fiction. And written a number more that are, as yet, unpublished.

Last year, after a long stay in the local hospital, I was diagnosed with a chronic lung condition that makes it likely I will become very ill from any respiratory infections. I’ve been working remotely since then, and I’m so grateful that the University has provided this accommodation that has allowed me to continue working. But remote work is isolating and difficult. And I’d also like to have even more time for writing fiction.

This evening, I was notified that my application to do a phased retirement over the next two years has been approved. Beginning in Fall 2024, I will teach only half time for two academic years and then fully retire. I’m looking forward to making a gradual transition into retirement and being able to devote myself more to my new creative endeavors.

Four years ago, I discovered what shimenawa were and I made one for my beloved sakura tree. But it was time for a new one. The old one had gradually disintegrated in the weather and only part of a single shide remained. So I gathered supplies over the past week and reminded myself how to construct the tassels and shide to put up a new one in time for the cherry blossoms

Our tree was grown from cuttings gifted to the Town of Amherst by the Nation of Japan in honor of William Clark. The tree has struggled in recent years since we needed to have a trench cut in the front yard that impinged on its roots. But we’ve been working with an arborist to nurse it back to health.

I look forward to the cherry blossoms every year and this year, perhaps, more than ever. Now I’ll have a nice, fresh shimenawa to go with them.

On May 11, 2024, I will be bringing a Small Publishing in a Big Universe (SPBU) vendor table to the Watch City Steampunk Festival in Waltham, Massachusetts. I’ve never attended Watch City before, but it looks like it will be a lot of fun.

Currently, we are scheduled to have four or five authors sharing the table. I will be sure to bring Revin’s Heart, which is steampunky fantasy adventure. (And I’ll also bring a few copies of Better Angels: Tour de Force, just in case.) But Water Dragon Publishing has a few other steampunky offerings. And, as I say, there will several other authors there as well.

The SPBU model has been doing very well! It lets indie and small-press authors share the cost of a vendor table and avoid the need to get a tax identity or manage the purchasing system to sell books independently. A big traditional publisher might be able to just justify a table of their own, but very few indie or small press publishers could. We tried out the approach experimentally at Worldcon in Chicago and we’ve had tables for SPBU at Baycon, Arisia, and Boskone. It’s been a boon for authors who want to attend a con and they can tell people where they can buy their books.

Recently, I was gratified to receive two extremely generous reviews of Revin’s Heart. Reviews are critical for getting the word out about new books.

The first was by The Faerie Review. The reviewer, Lily Shadowlyn, had read the entire Revin’s Heart series at the time the final novelette came out and had written a series of enthusiastic reviews about each of them. In the last review, she had said, “I would love to see all the stories compiled into one larger book or even a box set bundle someday, although it would be a hefty tome, the stories it would contain would be worth it!” So, when the collected edition came out, she reread the stories and the additional material had many nice things to say.

[T]hink Treasure Planet with magic and LGBTQIA+ rep. The story moves along smoothly, and the action will get your heart racing. The characters are unforgettable, and you won’t see the twists coming.

Lily Shadowlyn

The second review was a complete surprise to me. Damian Serbu wrote a review for Queer Sci Fi. In his review, he speaks glowingly about the worldbuilding, story structure, and pacing of Revin’s Heart. But his description of Revin made me feel wonderful that someone really got what I was aiming for.

Revin himself is a fabulous character. You pull for him from the first. He possesses a charming combination of hurt because of not being accepted for his true nature with a hope for a better future and acceptance for those around him, no matter who they are. And Revin blends a youthful naïveté about the world, especially within the realm of the pirates, with a bravery and courage in his exploits.

Damian Serbu

I’m so grateful for the excellent reviews. It’s really hard to get reviews. Every author wishes that more people who read books would share a review — even if only to say, “I read this and it was OK.” But to get such lengthy, positive reviews is extraordinary and I hope they lead to more people discovering Revin’s Heart and enjoying it.

In 2023, I had been scheduled to appear at Boskone, but ended up instead in the hospital. It was a big disappointment and so I was excited this year when I was again selected to appear on the program.

The second weekend in February happens to be also the second week of the semester, so I had a regular workday on Friday. I drove to Boston the night before and then had an early morning meeting and office hours. I had just enough time between office hours and class to run down to the parking garage to meet my confederates to open my car and help move in the books for the Water Dragon dealer table. After class, I was able to get registered, pick up my packet, and then spend a little time selling books before it was time for my first panel.

My first panel was Write My Doctoral Thesis: Science Edition. When I had signed up, I hadn’t noticed that this was supposed to be comedic event (another participant told me that they were under the same misapprehension, which made me feel better for having missed this crucial fact.) After the fact, it was a lot of fun. But during the session it was rather stressful: It was rather like playing madlibs with very smart opponents in front of a live audience. But I felt like I made good contributions and got some laughs. And I was pleased to meet the other participants who all seemed like great folks.

Saturday was my busy with a reading following immediately after by a panel, then a break, the book festival, and another panel immediately after. The reading was reasonably well attended: I read The Better Angels and the Military Morale Mishegoss, an excerpt of The Third Time’s the Charm, and The Better Angels and the Super Sticky Situation. Then I had to run to the Speculative Evolution panel. The participants were well selected, with people representing diverse perspectives. I was bit disappointed that the Book Festival was kind of a bust: I had a handful of people who came to speak with me, but it was a general problem: there just weren’t many people there. My last panel, Romance in Speculative Fiction was fascinating: it was an interesting group of participants. A number of audience members, afterwards expressed how much they valued my comments that provided representation for queer and non-binary perspectives.

I spent Sunday in the dealer room selling books. Revin’s Heart bundles sold well, although it became clear that people were planning to get copies of the fix-up which is now out (although I did not have copies to sell at the con.) This should surprise no-one. I was a bit more disappointed that, although people liked my pitch for Better Angels, it did not sell particularly well. People would listen to the pitch, say it sounded good, and then not buy the book. So realized a little tweak. Rather than calling it “light-hearted space opera” I’ve started calling it “fluffy military space opera” which will hopefully generate the right amount of cognitive dissonance.

Boskone is just a month after Arisia, but the two events are quite different. Boskone trends older — maybe 25 years older. And the participants seem clearer on what they want. And what they want is traditional sci fi like they read when they were younger. They seem therefore less interested in the new offerings of a small press. The booth just next to ours was MIT Press selling, among other things, books by Stanislav Lem (mostly written in the 1960s and 1970s) that seemed very interesting to the participants.

Sunday afternoon, we packed everything up and I drove home, getting back just before sunset.

Trying to publicize your books is hard. It’s one of the things that you don’t think much about until you try to transition from “writer” to “author.” At least I didn’t. But I had seen enough authors talking about the need to do publicity that I had some idea what I was getting myself into. What I didn’t know anything about, however, was advertising.

Last summer, I saw a Facebook group that was going to offer a free starter class for people who wanted to learn about advertising using ads at Amazon. I decided to spend a little money up front just trying out the advertising system. I first tried letting Amazon construct the ad (basically just showing a book among search results, I think). But I think I clicked something wrong and it didn’t work at all. It didn’t cost anything because nobody clicked on it — whatever it was (I couldn’t figure out how to get it to show me what the ad was that it was even showing). But it tried again and got some tiny number of clicks. But it was clear that a lot more fine tuning was required. So I tried the class.

The class was based around long screencasts. I quickly found I couldn’t stand to watch the screencasts at all. But accompanying the screencasts were click-by-click directions for the activities. This I could do, so I set up a handful of experimental ads like they recommended. The results were quite discouraging. I didn’t get any sales (as far as I could tell) and, when I spoke with another author who had taken a similar (but more advanced class), he indicated that you needed to get orders of magnitude larger responses in order actually see appreciable sales. And he had decided it wasn’t worth it.

Several people said that Facebook ads were a better fit, so I decided to hold my nose and give those a try. I truly and wholeheartedly despise Facebook. But I gave them some money to “boost” a post I had already written to promote Better Angels: Tour de Force. The interface was less complicated and it seemed like I got better results. So, after that ad finished, I decided to run another. When I did, however, I discovered how enshittified the Facebook ad system is.

The first ad you buy has reasonable defaults that make sense: it defaults to $14 for a week with a goal of getting people to click on your link. But when you try to do the next one, it dicks with the defaults. It tries to get you to spend $42 or $56 or some much larger amount. And it defaults to other weird goals like “get more engagement” or “get more messages via Facebook Messenger”. And it tries to get you link Instagram and What’s App accounts with your Facebook account. Ugh. I feel so unclean.

Since I’ve been playing around with my book promotion posts already, I will probably continue to purchase ads at some low level. Since it does seem to actually put my ad in front of people who do, at some level, click through to the book page. And maybe some of them actually buy a book. If nothing else, it gives me some additional metrics on which book promotion posts are more effective.

It still feels a lot like just rolling the dice.

Last year, I was scheduled to appear at Boskone, but ended up going into the hospital the week before. Tempting fate, I have again proposed myself as a participant and have now received my final schedule.

On Friday Feb 9, since this is during the academic year, I will have office hours at 10am, and then will teach class (remotely) from 1:25 until 3:45. Then, I will be free to participate in the convention for the rest of the weekend.

At 7pm on Friday, I will serve on a panel Write My Doctoral Thesis: Science Edition (in Burroughs). This looks like it will be a lot of fun.

Saturday is my busy day: I have a reading (in Galleria – Cabaret) at 12:30, then Speculative Evolution (in Marina 4) at 1pm, followed by the Boskone Book Party (in the Galleria) at 6pm, then Romance in Speculative Fiction (in Harbor 2) at 7pm.

But Sunday, I’m totally free!

Mostly, when not otherwise scheduled, I’ll be at the Water Dragon Publishing table in the Dealer Room. I’ll have plenty of copies of Better Angels: Tour de Force, as well as bundles of Revin’s Heart. Stop by and visit!

David was still on the bridge of Angels’ Wings, the Better Angels’ starship, when Bebe came out in her nightgown.

“Bebe can’t sleep,” she said, rubbing her eyes.

“Can I get you something? Some warm milk maybe?” David asked.

“Bebe wants you to read her a story.”

David felt his hackles rise.

“What story would you like?” he said, apprehensively.

“Bebe wants you to read Cap’n Capybara and the Case of the Curious Crocodile!”

“Again? Didn’t I read that last time? And the time before?”

She grabbed his sleeve and tugged, “Come. Come!”

David tucked Bebe into her bed, then seated himself. Eyes shining, she wriggled with anticipation under the covers.

“Close your eyes,” David admonished.

Bebe complied and David began to read.

“Cap’n Capybara and the Case of the Curious Crocodile. By Cat Cattwaddler.

“‘Catch, Cap’n’!” called Crocodile.

“‘Can’t,’ quipped Cap’n Capybara. ‘Carrying coffee!'”

Bebe began giggling.

“Cup caught casually chucked chunk.”

Bebe started snorting with laughter.

“Crocodile cried, ‘Captivity crummy!'”

“Aw!” Bebe said, plaintively.

“Go to sleep!”

David read the rest of the book to Bebe. By the last page she was finally asleep, her chest rising and falling evenly. He laid the book down and tiptoed out as quietly as he could. Then he turned and found the rest of the Better Angels standing in their nightgowns.

“We can’t sleep, David! Read us a story too!”

“Okay, okay,” he said. “What story do you want?”

“Cap’n Capybara and the Case of the Curious Crocodile!” they all said in unison.

“But…” David said, turning to look back at the door. Then he put his foot down. “No. You’ll have to pick something else.”

This story was originally written for a set of prompts for #wss366.

Better Angels: Tour de Force is now available at The Truck Stop at the Center of the Galaxy.

I’ve been rather surprised to discover that I seem to be pretty good at selling books. It doesn’t hurt, of course, to have books that people want to read. But a huge part of successful selling is to have a pitch that lands with the prospective buyer. And that’s what I seem to be good at.

I think it derives from the years I spent doing educational assemblies. To make those performances work, you need to hone a series of stories and statements so that the wording and timing resonates with the audience and they get caught up in the performance. When it works best, the audience will play along and you can hear them respond and engage with what you’re saying. It’s not a conversation, but you can hear through their laughter or groans when they’ve understood something or gotten the silly joke you were trying to tell.

The first step is judging when to engage with someone approaching or at the table. Some people stand back or refuse to make eye-contact. Or are clearly focused on looking at the books themselves. I usually just offer a quiet “Hello.” Or “Can I help you with anything?” Or, if they seem unsure, I might ask, “Would you like a tour?” Or, occasionally, “What do you like to read?” I’d rather not ask that, because I want to steer them to what I want them to read.

When I’m selling Revin’s Heart, I often begin by pointing at the Airship Pirate ribbon and asking, “Would you like to be an airship pirate?” Most people at science fiction conventions would like to be an airship pirate, although there are exceptions. The ribbon is particularly good because its immediately recognizable to LGBTQIA+ folks who can tell immediately that the book might appeal to them.

I leave a beat while they consider the ribbon and then, as they take it, I say, “It’s for my steampunky fantasy adventure with pirates and airships and a trans protagonist.” I usually tick off on my fingers as list the items.

I leave another beat and say, “It was serialized as seven novelettes. They’re five dollars each, but — if you buy all seven as a bundle — you can get them for $25… [beat] which is like two free!”

If they express interest in the first one, I point at the Third Time’s the Charm and say, “Pro tip: don’t name the first book in a series ‘the third’ something.” This almost always generates a smile, if not a laugh.

At this point, I generally point to Better Angels and say, “This is my newest book. It’s about a group of non-human biological androids [beat] that look like pre-teen girls [beat] and serve as magical girl singing-and-dancing idols [beat] but they can change up their programming [beat] and become a covert military force.” Usually, by this point, people are totally caught up in the pitch and are expressing wonderment or laughing. When I did this pitch at the Steampunk Isn’t Dead panel at Arisia2024, I had been honing it all weekend, the audience responded, as I performed it, with a rising volume of amazement, “aaaaaAAAAAAH!” ending in laughter and applause.

I’ve got a few other pitches. I learned an effective one for the Grimaulkin series from the author. And for two of the Water Dragon anthologies, I will say. “The Future’s So Bright is the bright, hopeful, optimistic stuff while Corporate Catharsis is all the dark stuff you wish you could do to your boss.” This usually generates a laugh and immediately helps the prospective buyer situate those books in their mind.

After making the pitch, there are plenty of other things I can tell buyers about the books. But I’ve realized that having an effective pitch that’s delivered as a performance, sets the stage for everything that follows.

I attended Arisia for the second time as a participant. Last year, I was only one one or two panels and had a reading. This year, I moderated a panel, served on four more, and had a reading. I dressed up in cosplay for the panel “Steampunk isn’t dead.” Well. Sorta.

I moderated the panel on Gender and Sexual Identity Representation in Media. Originally, there were supposed to be four participants plus me moderating. Normally when there are four, the moderator can focus solely on facilitating the conversation. Unfortunately, one of the participants was unable to join us and so I tried to both moderate and participate in the conversation. I was satisfied with providing enough structure to keep the discussion on track and making sure that all of the participants were able to make contributions.

I served on three additional panels which were all fun. The Food in Science Fiction and Fantasy left me with an appetite to write more about food. The Bi+ Panel provided new insight into bisexuality, pansexuality, and current thinking in queer culture. And the panel on Invertebrates and Entomology in SFF was fascinating due to the other interesting participants that each had useful stuff to contribute. I felt like I made good contributions on each of the panels.

I got to offer a reading on Sunday afternoon. The audience was around a dozen. I think they were mostly there to hear the other participants, who all write much more poetical stuff, so my weird space opera stuff left me the odd-man out — quite literally. But the selections I had made (Military Morale Mishegoss and Super Sticky Situation) worked well together I got a polite, enthusiastic response. The other authors were jealous of my giant poster of my cover.

Water Dragon had a dealer table again this year. Last year, I was the lead in running it, but this year another author and his wife attended and took the lead. It was great! Four other authors from the publisher took turns at the table as well and it was great to get to meet them as well. I really value the vital community of authors that Water Dragon Publishing fosters.

I had a new book just out Better Angels: Tour de Force as well as the novelettes that form Revin’s Heart. The copies of Better Angels arrived just in time, but the additional stock of Revin’s Heart didn’t arrive in time. So I plenty of one, but ran short of the other.

I was grateful they required masks. Due to my underlying health conditions, I can only attend events where everyone is masked. Knock wood, it appears I came through the Convention without contracting any respiratory infections.

Next month, we’ll all be back for Boskone.

Early in my fiction writing, I really struggled with writing “stories.” By that, I mean using a narrative structure that presents a problem which is satisfactorily resolved — ideally well-paced, with rising action that climaxes at the right moment. I tended to write a rambling narrative of vaguely interesting events that raised all kinds of problems but did not resolve them satisfactorily.

Sometime — perhaps in early 2022, which is the first example I can find without visiting birdchan — I discovered #vss365: a hashtag prompt for which participants were encouraged to write a very short story (vss) that would be offered each day of the year (365) contained in a single, brief post. Baring my soul, typo and all, here is the first one I have recorded, from Feb 11, 2022:

She visited the garden center when she was depressed. The flowers didn’t cheer her up, exactly, but they helped her remember that better times might come. The annuals were too gaudy for her. She always loved tge reliability of the #perennial that would keep blooming in the years to come. Now that was something to live for.

It’s a story! She’s depressed. She visits the garden center. The perennials give her something to live for.

I found writing a brief post was something I could do, even during the academic year when I was working full time. It reminds me a bit of when I started writing haiku in Esperanto while I was a grad student and no longer had time for anything more. But it was enough.

I enjoyed #vss365 and I have hundreds of examples of brief story fragments I wrote. Some served as the nucleus of a story. And some I would string together, writing a whole rough draft one bit at a time.

But then a narcissistic billionaire purchased birdchan, turned it into a Nazi bar, and I couldn’t bear to visit the Nazi bar anymore to get the prompts. But someone had created a website that would scrape the prompt and share it on the open web. So I started participating even though I had jumped to Mastodon (first to mastodon.lol and then to wandering.shop). But then the site shut down: they where having to pay the narcissistic billionaire money to scrape a single word each day from birdchan. And he finally, perfectly sensibly, decided to quit paying.

So I wrote my last two posts on Dec 31, 2023 and commented that I wouldn’t be participating anymore. A friend, @asakiyume, suggested that we could start our own prompt game on Mastodon. I roped my brother, @philipbrewer into the conversation and we agreed to pick some words, favoring simple ordinary words with more than one meaning. (I had found it annoying to have words that had only a single meaning as being overly restrictive of the kind of post you could write.)

But then Phil suggested that maybe we should create an account to be an authoritative source for the prompt. As I thought about it, I realized that we also wanted a bot: something that didn’t need to be shared, but could be configured easily and contrived to post automatically at a particular time. So I investigating creating a bot for Mastodon.

This is not the first time I’ve done something like this: years ago, I created a bot for birdchan called “dupolusulo” that would randomly post either a proverb from the Esperanta Proverbaro or string of plausible text generated by a baysian algorithm that used the Proverbaro as a corpus. This plausible text was often utterly incomprehsible, but looked like it might mean something and sounded a lot like the proverbaro.

This time was pretty similar, though easier. I wrote a little python script that would figure out what day of the year it was, read in a CSV file, and grab a line matching the day number, parse it, and emit it as a formatted text string. Then, all I had to do was set up a Mastodon account, @wss365 configured to allow a bot to post to it. To be honest, what sold me on the whole thing was when I discovered that I sorta kinda personally know the guy who runs the botsin.space instance that was set up to support these kinds of bots.

It took me about a day to set up the Mastodon account, configure it, create an avatar, add a header graphic, write the script, configure a cron job to call it at 5am. But by the end of the day, I posted an announcement that the post was live and would post to #wss366 (for Wandering Shop Stories and 366 because it’s a leap year this year) was live.

This morning, it posted its first prompt: #brick.

I can’t wait to see what it’s going to post tomorrow. Now that’s something to live for.