A.C. Wise

I watched The Black Dahlia last night, and it got me thinking about stories. A story that weaves together multiple plots and subplots can be very effective when it’s well done, for example Catherynne Valente’s Orphan’s Tales duology. The stories build upon each other, making the whole richer. The way the stories interlock have real consequences for the characters, and change the meaning of the tale as a whole. In the hands of the right story-teller, multiple story threads become a beautiful tapestry. When handled poorly, they turn into a horribly tangled knot.

Musings and movie spoilers below the cut.
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Readercon starts tomorrow. I will not be there, at least not in person, but my words will be going on my behalf. The latest issue of Sybil’s Garage, which contains my short story, “Under the Leaves” will be making it’s unofficial debut at Readercon. If you do happen to be going, you should pick up one of the limited number of copies that will be available. Editor Matt Kressel has been working incredibly hard to get issue #7 ready in time, and though I won’t tell you the TOC (it hasn’t officially been announced yet), I can tell you that it is awesome. The issue will have it’s official debut on July 21st as part of the KBG Fantastic Fiction Reading Series. I’m also not going to be there, though I really wish I was. To make up for all the places I’m not going to be, I will be at Victory Brewery this weekend with an awesome bunch of writer-type folks, sucking back Golden Monkeys, so that makes it okay.
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Just to be difficult, we spent Canada Day in the US and the Fourth of July in Canada. We used the long weekend here in the states to drive up to Stratford, Ontario to visit my mom and stepdad in their new house. In retrospect: long weekend + holiday traffic + border-crossing = bad idea. Lesson learned. Despite the frustrating drive, the visit itself was wonderful. My mom’s new house is beautiful, we saw friends we hadn’t seen in four years, stalked swans, stumbled upon an art festival, purchased things from bookstores and chocolate shops, ate good food, and saw Christopher Plummer as Prospero in the Tempest.

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I have a new phone. Without a doubt, said phone is smarter than me; it’s right there in the name - it’s a Smart Phone. I have finally entered the 21st Century, where everyone else has been living for years. Thus far, I’ve figured out how to do such important things as: display rotating images from comic books as my wallpaper; make my ringtone sound like a communicator from Star Trek: the Original Series; track the latest available shirt on shirt.woot; locate the nearest Barnes & Noble/Starbucks; and view the latest xkcd comic. You know, the important stuff. Oh, and, as I understand it, it also makes phone calls. Who knew?

Listing a bunch of unrelated things is kind of like writing a proper post, right?

Thing One: Cern Zoo: Nemonymous Nine, which contains my short story, Mellie’s Zoo, is a finalist for the 2010 British Fantasy Awards. Woohoo!

Thing Two: Aliette de Bodard’s Memories in Bronze, Feathers, and Blood is a lovely story - you should go read it.

Thing the Third: Moon is a beautifully shot and well-acted movie - you should go watch it.

Thing the Last: Futurama is back from the dead, and the first episode of its newly zombified life premiers this Thursday at 10pm. Contrary to the alarming rumors that were floating around at some point, the original cast is back for the second go around. Drop what you’re doing and go set your DVR right now, or if you don’t have a DVR, cancel whatever plans you have, and watch the show real-time. If you don’t, it’ll make robot Jesus cry.

Boosting the signal for anyone in the Philadelphia area…

I’ve mentioned PAWS here before - they are Philly’s largest no-kill animal shelter, and they are currently in desperate need of people willing to foster litters of kittens until they are old enough for adoption. Summer and spring are “kitten season” and PAWS and animal control are both at full capacity. According to the recent plea PAWS sent out, “there are between 50-60 litters at any given time in need of rescue.”

So, if you live in the Philly area and you’ve ever considered fostering or adopting kittens, now is the time. There are also plenty of dogs in need of fostering and adoption as well, if cats just aren’t your thing. If you’re interested, or you know anyone who is interested:

• contact Sue Durphy, PAWS’ foster care coordinator, at sue@phillypaws.org
• visit PAWS’ Wellness Clinic at 2900 Grays Ferry Ave. between 11 and 6 any day of the week
• contact Natalie Smith, ACCT Manager of Lifesaving, at nsmith@pspca.org
• visit ACCT at 111 W. Hunting Park Ave. between 9 and 6 any day of the week

If you aren’t able to foster any animals, you can still help by donating items from PAWS’ wishlist on Amazon, or making a donation directly to PAWS’ via their website.

Several of my co-workers regularly foster kittens, and I’ve been lucky enough to help them out on occasion. Two pictures below the cut to shamelessly tug at your heartstrings. Seriously, unless you hate cuteness, it’s almost impossible to look at these cats and not immediately fall in love…

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I’m starting to think my love of books may be giving my dog a complex.

I’m a book, okay? Now will you pet me?

Until he starts damaging books, I’m not going to discourage him. It’s pretty darned cute, and it seems to be his absolute new favorite place to sleep. He’s a good boy.

This was a weekend for reveling in geekery. Last night we saw Curio Theater’s production of Twelfth Night. Aside from English Literature geekery, this particular production also featured gorgeous steampunk costumes (a fact which none of the promotion for the play seems to mention…what’s up with that?)

The actors did a wonderful job, the costumes were tons of fun, and the theater itself a beautiful old church with lovely stained glass and a big, ole pipe organ, which was used to great effect as part of the set. The staging was very minimal, using the natural space of the church, and adding a bit of scaffolding, but nothing else in terms of sets or backdrops. The actors (and the costumes) carried the whole production, and carried it well. If you happen to be in the Philadelphia area and dig steampunk, Shakespeare, or both, I highly recommend checking it out. There are only a few performances left, but an additional matinee was just added for next Saturday. If you still need convincing, go look at the pretty, pretty pictures excerpted from the program, shot by Kyle Cassidy, here.

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I’m far from an expert, and as a general rule, I don’t pretend to be qualified to dispense advice to anyone. However, some things go without saying…or rather, they should. This is basic stuff. If you want to be taken seriously as an author:

Do Not comment-spam random blogs/journals that happen to mention the word ‘bookstore’ asking which bookstores you should offer your novel to.

Do Not misspell the title of your own book.

Seriously.

Do strongly consider pursuing a more traditional route to publishing. Hone your craft. Seek feedback from peers. Research agents and publishers that match your writing style. Query or submit as appropriate. Wait. Lather, rinse and obey repeat. This avoids the first problem.

Do learn what words mean and how to spell them. This avoids the second problem.

That is all. Best of luck and godspeed.

In a recent post, I lamented that my dreams are nowhere near as cool as Michael Swanwick’s. While on the way to the train station this morning, I remembered* a dream I had last night, which, while still not as cool, at least feels like progress.

I was sitting around with a bunch of people I haven’t seen since elementary school. A mouse ran across the floor in front of me, which prompted me to yell “My boots are full of mice!” I looked down and saw that I was wearing big, black, knee-high galoshes. Little mouse heads and tails kept popping up as the mice ran up and down my legs. I removed my boots, and poured a stream of mice out of each.

So there.

*I was prompted to remember this dream by a leaf blowing past my foot, which looked like a bit like a mouse to my half-asleep brain. I actually said “My boots are full of mice,” aloud, and the dream came rushing back to me. It’s probably best that no one else was around.