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Author: Tim Pratt

Christmas Stories

Are you unable to cope with the fact that Xmas is over? I can help you prolong that holiday feeling. Or something.

My story “Rangifer Volans: A Very Cryptozoological Christmas” is up at the Drabblecast. (Along with a Lovecraftian version of “Twas the Night Before Christmas” and an excellent flash piece by Mur Lafferty, “Zuzu’s Bell” — she worked wonders with exactly 100 words.)

If you missed it last week, you should know Podcastle did an amazingly good audio version of “The Christmas Mummy” by me and Heather Shaw, read by Rish Outfield.

Though of course, my own favorite SFnal Xmas story is still and always Greg van Eekhout’s “In the Late December”. (Also available in audio form.)

Listen, and/or read, and recapture some glimmer of that holiday feeling before 2010 leaves us forever and always.

Happy Happy

YAWN. Happy Christmas. The boy got up around 7 a.m., and found a pile of gifts to dazzle him. We’re not doing present-opening and so forth until my sister-in-law, nephew, and mother-in-law get here later this morning, but we let River open a couple of things from Santa to appease him. He’s been waiting a looooong time for Christmas — this is the first year he really understood the holiday in a way that allowed for anticipation — and he’s pretty much a squealing mass of pure delight.

My turkey is trussed and awaiting the kiss of flame in the oven; potatoes are chopped and wait only to be boiled and mashed and made creamy; and cranberry relish and gravy can wait. That’s all my culinary responsibility for the day… apart from the massive artery-clogging breakfast of sausage, eggs, and cheese I’m about to compose. A world of yum.

Happy day to all, whether you celebrate something or not.

Wise Men

I had the great good fortune to read an advance copy of Patrick Rothfuss’s novel The Wise Man’s Fear, second in the long story begun with The Name of the Wind. (We got a couple of review copies at the office, and I read one very quickly before it needed to be sent off to a reviewer).

I loved Name of the Wind and I’ve been excited about the second book for ages, especially since sitting in on Pat’s interview with A Certain Magazine at WisCon earlier this year. It’s as good as I’d hoped. I won’t spill any spoilers, but I’ll say it deepens and enriches the story of Kvothe, also adding some darker layers, and answers a few questions while creating even more mysteries. It’s one of those wonderfully immersive reads, providing a world that feels big and fully-realized. A book you can fall into.

If you haven’t read Name of the Wind, give it a try; if you like it, you’ll want to get the follow-up when it goes on sale in March 2011. And if you have read Name, you’ve probably been waiting impatiently for this book anyway, and to you I say: yeah, worth the wait.

The Alphabet Collab

Some years ago Greg van Eekhout and Heather Shaw and I started working on what we called our “alphabet collab,” conceived as 26 flash fiction pieces, one for each letter of the alphabet. (You know — “A is for Airport,” “B is for Banyan Tree,” “C is for Caltrops,” like that.) The vague plan was to compile the whole set and try to sell it somewhere, but that never quite happened, mostly because we never wrote all the letters. We did however perform some of the pieces often at readings, to general delight — they’re short, and often funny, which are good things to be at a reading. After a while we all ended up selling some of the individual stories — my own published ones include “Caltrops,” “Fiddle,” “Uchronia,” and “Incubus”. Greg even expanded some of his into longer stories.

Then, several weeks ago, something cool happened: Jonathan Laden, an editor at Daily Science Fiction, which published one of my flash pieces from the alphabet collab, asked if we’d be interested in letting him publish the whole set — assuming we could write new pieces to fill the gaps where we’d sold the original stories. About the same time — maybe a day later? — Dave Thompson of Escape Artists (which does the Escape Pod, Podcastle, and Pseudopod fiction podcasts, which have published many of the original alphabet collab pieces) asked us if we’d sell him the whole set, to offer as special downloadable content.

Greg and Heather and I were happy to oblige… except we needed to write new pieces. Lots of them, since most of the originals had been sold already. So we drafted Jenn Reese — who excels at flash fiction — to help us compose new letters. Then we talked and worked for about a month.

The result: The Alphabet Quartet, over 15,000 words of swift fictions, coming to you soon from Daily Science Fiction and Escape Artists. DSF will start publishing them, one per week, in January 2011, starting with the longest story in the bunch, “A is for Arthur”. The Escape Artists edition — which may be a paid download featuring audio versions of every story, or a subscriber gift, or something else — will probably be available a few months after that. EA is also planning to publish B-sides, variant letters, reprints of the original letters, and etc. as teasers and treats.

So there you go: half a year of stories by me, Greg, Jenn, and Heather. It’s awesome. I’m thrilled. This is one of the coolest projects I’ve ever been involved in.

It Was the Best of Birthdays, It Was the Worst of Birthdays

My Birthday Weekend Spectacular was more crappy than spectacular, really, but it had high points. Friday night our friend Amelia kindly babysat for us, enabling my wife and I to hit the town. For her birthdays, we tend to do fancy restaurants; for mine, we went to a brewpub and drank a pitcher of stout and I ate a burger as big as all outdoors and a plate of chili fries. We strolled around downtown Berkeley a bit, got some gelato, and then went to see Black Swan, which was pretty good. (Heather loved it; I thought it was a good horror movie except for all that dancin’. I’m a Philistine.)

Then we came home and collapsed unto unconsciousness. I was sick on Saturday. (Initially I just thought I’d finally gotten too old to eat a whole plate of chili cheese fries without consequences. It was soon apparent that I was way sicker than that would account for, though. Readers with long memories may recall I was sick last Sunday and Monday as well. That bout was less virulent, but still, getting sick twice? In a week? On my birthday week? You suck, universe.) Heather did courageous solo parenting while I was useless.

I managed to make an appearance at a holiday party on Sunday — I sorta had to, as they had a birthday cake for me! — doing my best to avoid human contact for the benefit of all. (Though many of my friends and acquaintances have been ill in recent days, without apparent common contagion vector, so I think it’s just going around). Mostly I just lolled around home, though, and attempted to rehydrate, which is an ongoing process. My wife got me some nice gifts: new pants, and an awesome new jacket, two things I desperately needed. And, being a wonderful wife, Heather said we can reschedule my birthday for next weekend! So I might get my beloved celebratory cherry cheesecake after all.

At this point, I’d settle for feeling human again, though.

34 on 12/12

This Sunday is my birthday. (12/12 — easy to remember.) I’ll be 34 years old.

Ooooolllllldddddd.

My original goal as a writer, long ago in college, was to sell a novel by age 35. Well, I managed that. My other goal was to be a full-time writer by 40. Doesn’t seem especially likely, given prevailing economic conditions, but who can say? Six years is a long time. Six years ago I hadn’t sold any novels at all. Check back with me in late 2016, assuming I’m not living in one of President-for-Life Palin’s Reeducation Camps for Coastal Elites.

We have a babysitter lined up for Friday night, so my wife and I can go out. We’re too broke for true extravagance, but we’ll get some dinner and maybe see a movie. Perhaps Black Swan, which combines my wife’s love of dance with my love for Aronofsky movies.

33 was a rough year — though easier than 32. And looking back, I remember the good parts far more clearly than the bad. What more can I ask? (I’ve now lived longer than that nice Jewish boy Yeshua Ben Miriam did. Though obviously I’ve accomplished considerably less…)

100…ish

I sold my 100th story! (Including collaborations, audio originals, stories original to my own collections, and a couple of pieces self-published in Christmas chapbooks — but still! 100!)

Initially I thought I’d only sold 99, then realized I’d left a story off my bibliography and declared my story “Rangifer Volans: A Very Cryptozoological Christmas” (upcoming on Drabblecast for the holidays) as #100.

But then I discovered that I’d forgotten to put another story on my bibliography, so my 100th story was actually either “Luminous” or “D is for De Gustibus”, both flash pieces sold to Podcastle on the same day. So I’ve actually got 101 stories published or pending. Unless I forgot another one on my bibliography. Which is admittedly possible. Oh well. There was an arbitrary numerical milestone in there somewhere.

It only occurred to me to count at all because I was looking at The Complete Stories of J.G. Ballard and noticed that it had only 98 stories. But I can admit that Ballard had, shall we say, a rather better ratio of quality to quantity than I do.

The other realization I had is that I’ve got another collection’s worth of stories — even excluding flash, Marla Mason stories (I’m saving those for a dedicated collection someday), and a few minor pieces. I may start putting together a story collection manuscript to shop around in the coming months, though I’d want to write a substantial original piece for it, so it won’t happen soon. I’m leaning toward Antiquities and Tangibles: Stories as a title, after a novelette I have upcoming in Subterranean. I do love assembling collections.

Not All Better

Whooooo. Been a rough week and it’s only Wednesday. I was sick Monday, and stayed home, where I mostly read comics and slept and watched five episodes in a row of The Walking Dead. (Interesting that the plot bears so little resemblance at all to that of the comic.)

Yesterday I felt better, and ran around with the kid, mostly — tried a new playground in North Berkeley, did grocery shopping, tried to do toddler time at the library, but he’s pretty much outgrown it and gets bored, so that didn’t last long. After the boy went to bed I played Cataclysm, the new expansion of World of Warcraft. I was part of the beta, so it wasn’t all wild and new to me, but it’s nice to play it and have everything work and be polished, without the constant crashes and placeholder graphics. And I didn’t get far in the beta, really, because I was too busy writing books to play in recent months, so much of it will be new to me soon.

I also cooked very delicious sausage/tomato/white bean soup. The key is fresh sage leaves. Yum.

Alas, late in the night, the kid started throwing up. Apparently he caught what I had, only an even worse case. Heather stayed up with him all night. I took over around 6 am so she could get a few hours of uninterrupted sleep before I went to work.

A sick three year old is so sad! He doesn’t understand what’s happening. Because he gets asthma medicine and baby tylenol and claritin occasionally, he keeps asking for medicine to make his tummy feel better, and ginger and peppermint doesn’t do the job. He’ll throw up and then say “I sorry daddy,” and he mistakes the immediate post-vomit cessation of nausea for being “all better!” Plus he’s hungry and thirsty and has trouble eating bread or drinking water slowly — he wants to wolf it down. He’s amazingly cheerful for a child who’s tossing his cookies every 30 to 90 minutes, though. With luck it’ll pass quickly.

Clarion Call

Clarion, people. Clarion! They’re taking applications for next year’s session in San Diego. Here’s their pitch:

Clarion is widely recognized as a premier training ground for aspiring writers of fantasy and science fiction short stories. The 2011 writers in residence are Nina Kiriki Hoffman, John Scalzi, Elizabeth Bear, David Anthony Durham, John Kessel and Kij Johnson. Each year 18 students, ranging in age from late teens to those in mid-career, are selected from applicants who have the potential for highly successful writing careers. Students are expected to write several new short stories during the six-week workshop, and to give and receive constructive criticism. Instructors and students reside together in UCSD campus apartments throughout the intensive six-week program.

Application period: December 1 – March 1. Applicants must submit two short stories with their application.

Workshop: June 26 – August 6, 2011.

So go to their website and take a look.

It’s a great line-up of teachers. While I can’t speak specifically to the experience of doing Clarion in San Diego (I went to Clarion 11 years ago, in the East Lansing Michigan days), I can attest to the experience of Clarion generally, which is: life changing. I know you hear that phrase a lot — about books, movies, restaurants, mind-altering substances, etc., but with Clarion (for me anyway) it was literally true. I met people there who are still among my best friends. My professors were inspirations. I learned more about writing in six weeks than I’d learned in all the years previous. I discovered that awesome famous writers are people, too. It very literally changed my life — without Clarion, I wouldn’t have ended up working at Locus, where I’ve been working for nearly ten years now. (One of my instructors was friends with the boss, and basically got the job for me — plus, I first heard about Locus at Clarion!) I can’t promise it’ll have that big an impact on your life, of course… but it will give you six weeks to spend intensely focused on writing, surrounded by people who care as much about this stuff as you do. If you can carve out the time, it’s worth applying. (I desperately want to teach there some day, myself.)

I can also speak to the awesomeness of San Diego: it’s awesome. Great food, great beaches, Mysterious Galaxy bookstore — what more could you want? No offense to East Lansing, which has its charms, but I gotta think San Diego is more fun.

YOU LIKE THAT SONG?

We put the boy — now no longer a toddler, technically, but a pre-schooler — to bed last night. While attempting to wrestle him into his jammies, he sang/yelled:

“If you’re happy and you know it, punch, hit!

If you’re happy and you know it, kick, hit!”

All punctuated with punching and kicking. When he finished singing he said, “Do you like that song? Do you? Do you like it? You like that song?” in an extremely manic way.

It was like watching an outtake from a Quentin Tarantino movie. Like Pulp Fiction: Babies.

(Bedtime is still an epic struggle, but it’s getting better, in general.)

***

My awesome wife Heather Shaw recently sat down and powered through revisions on her middle grade science fiction novel of gene-hacking mayhem and adventure. She finished it off and sent it to a couple of agents last week. I’m so proud of her!

***

My original short-short stories “D is for De Gustibus” and “Luminous” will be at Podcastle in the future, along with audio versions of my stories “Hart and Boot” and “Terrible Ones”. Oh, how I love the ‘pods! Especially when they send me acceptances for four stories in a single e-mail. Got a rejection from Asimov’s this week, too, though, so the sweet is balanced by the sour and etc.

(Speaking of Podcastle, they recently did “Skatouioannis” by Nick Mamatas, one of my favorite of Nick’s stories. The title monster even had a brief cameo in one of my Marla novels, as an homage…)

The Way of the Wizard anthology is out, including my story “Mommy Issues of the Dead” (featuring a young Marla Mason) and lots of other awesome tales. Check it out.

Here’s the first review I’ve seen of Welcome to Bordertown, and pleasantly enough it says nice things about my contribution, “Our Stars, Our Selves”. I’m so glad I got the opportunity to be part of that anthology.

***

My middle grade novel The Deep Woods has been revised and line-edited. I think it’s one of my strongest books yet. I’ll send it to my agent after Thanksgiving and hope she agrees. And that some publishers agree. And that readers agree. And so on.

All I have on my plate writing-wise at the moment is a few book reviews and a couple of stories (one a flash piece, one a Christmas story). Should be fun. I’m expecting to hear back about some longer projects in upcoming weeks, though, so life could potentially become more exciting soon.

***

Worked a 12+ hour day last week to finish up the December issue of A Certain Magazine. (We were on a short production schedule because of Thanksgiving.) Brutal, but at least it was followed by a three-day weekend. I read a bunch of comics, watched some TV, played with the kid, took walks, ate brunch, got fancy ice cream, etc. Wonderfully relaxing. And today… back to work. But I only have to work two days of the next seven, so it’s hardly a great trial.

***

Part 12 of The Nex is up. Not sure if anyone’s reading it; no one has commented in a couple of weeks, and no one has donated in many weeks. Maybe everyone who cared just bought the e-book version. I still like it, though, and am happy to have it out there.