So maybe this Kickstarter thing will work. I figure nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

Oh, and also … I’m giving my Freedom manuscript one more thorough onceover, and after the first of the year I plan to start sending it out. Feel free to send me any good wishes you have lying around unused.

Which leads me to the current game that is eating much of my brain space: Minecraft. A year ago, I’d never heard of it. Six months ago, I’d barely heard of it. Now…

Well, now I’m addicted. It’s like Legos for grownups, with a whole world made of blocks of various kinds that you can build with, dig through, explore, manipulate … it’s more fun than a head full of hair!

Especially since I play it on the “Peaceful” setting, which means I don’t have to worry about bandits and zombies and things that go BOOM! I don’t like those things.

For me, the perfect game just lets me explore and maybe monkey around with things a little bit, and that’s what Minecraft offers. I love it.

If you don’t like games that require a fast twitch response and just enjoy meandering around and building – and shearing sheep and arguing with chickens, but that’s another story ;D – I highly recommend Minecraft. No, I didn’t create it, nor am I getting any payment for this plug. It just makes me laugh, and I like to share things that make me happy.

www.minecraft.net

One, at some point I was given a printed-out copy of a drawing of a Scottie dog to color. With due diligence, I colored said Scottie perfectly, completely black … with a red collar. I recall someone – new teacher? mom? – saying something along the lines of “That’s not very cheerful.” To which I replied, more or less, “It’s a Scottie dog. They’re black.” This continued for a bit with comments about bright colors and comments about yes, but it’s a Scottie dog and they’re black.

I would not be moved.

So that’s the first thing I remember from first grade. I had a tendency to be stubborn and could be argumentative. And I knew, dang it, that Scottie dogs were black.

The second thing I remember from first grade is that I got in trouble a fair amount, and always for the same thing – talking.

Don’t talk.

Be quiet.

Stop talking.

Sit in the hall until I say you can come back in.

Give me your hand (for the ruler swat).

Always about talking. I made perfect grades, did whatever I was told, was a class leader, read all the time, but still played sports on the playground at recess. But I liked to talk, and it kept me in trouble through my whole first year’s encounter with formal education.

At some point in that first-grade year, I decided that talking just wasn’t worth the trouble, so I shut up. I didn’t really speak in school much for the next 12 years. I wrote. I talked to my cat, and to my short-term dog. I talked to myself, while wandering the fields and woods around my home. But I didn’t talk in school.

Talking has always been my Achilles’ heel. I like to talk with people. It made me a pretty decent reporter, and a more than okay teacher, but it just keeps me in trouble with people who don’t talk much.

I talk too much. I blab on. I babble.

So I’m told, even now. Guess it’s time to shut up again, and start writing it all down. And talking to the dog. Heck, I can get a fake ear-phone-thingie and talk to myself even in public, and nobody will think I’m some kind of lunatic.

Yeah, that’s the ticket. Be quiet.

Thanks.

P.S. Scottie dogs ARE black, dang it. And I’ve colored outside the lines ever since. So there.

It’s those days, weeks, months when everything you do is just slightly off, seems just slightly irritating to those around you. If you’re quiet, you’re too quiet. If you talk, you talk too much. If you try to remain calm, you’re apparently sad. If you give in to exuberance, you’re embarrassing. And worst of all, it’s all in your own head. Not like anybody’s actually saying any of these things.

But it makes existence … odd. I suspect others back away to give me space, and then I feel isolated.

Y’know what? I’m just a mess, and need to stop thinking about this stuff. Here’s some actual factual things:

* I got myself apparently banned from our governor-elect’s Facebook page, and I didn’t even use any bad language. I just kept asking when he’s going to apologize for basically calling me a minion of Satan. Guess he doesn’t like the question. Guess I’d better keep asking it at every juncture.

* Finally reading “Guns, Germs and Steel,” thanks to the Amazon lending library, and finding it fascinating. Right now pondering the issue of disease from the point of view of the disease microbe. Very very interesting.

* Recently read “The Blacksmith’s Daughter,” a first novel by a very dear friend, and enjoyed it greatly. You can find it at Amazon. Also read “The Whip” by Karen Kondazian, on the recommendation of Jim Beaver, and really liked it. It’s a novel written by a screenplay writer, so it reads like a movie, but it’s based on the real life of Charlotte “Charley” Parkhurst, who lived as a man and a stagecoach driver in Goldrush-era California. Nobody knew she was a woman until after she died.

* Been making lots of hats and suchlike lately, which means I’ve been watching lots of movies/TV. Saw “Rio Bravo,” with John Wayne and Dean Martin. Reminded me of why I had such a huge crush on Dean Martin back in the day. Watched “Dark Knight” again, and renewed my admiration for the spectacular creepiness of Heath Ledger’s Joker. Watched (thanks, streaming Netflix!) “The Trouble with Angels,” which I hadn’t seen in at least 30 years. It holds up amazingly well, all things considered, and reminded me why I basically idolized Hayley Mills as a youngster.

All these things are quiet, and quiet is a good thing for me to be right now. Quiet and non-bothersome. And keep many of my opinions to myself. It all works out better that way.

Second, I’ve known the author literally since she was born, and count her as a dear friend. Just to get that out there in the front of anything else.

That said, “The Blacksmith’s Daughter” is as good a fantasy first novel as any I’ve read in a while. Fantasy novels have certain things going for them, or against them, depending on personal preference. They have a fair amount of backstory/world-building to do before they can get deep into the story. Anybody who’s ever read Tolkien knows that this has been a challenge all the way since the Big Daddy First Fantasy to Rule Them All, The Hobbit/Lord of the Rings. If you’re the kind of person who loves to dive head-first into a new world, with unusual names and unheard-of places and Important People you need to learn and remember early on, then you’re already comfortable with reading fantasy and won’t have any problem with all these things.

If you’re not accustomed to it, you’ll find that the Prologue is a strenuous chew. But hang in there, all will come clear and you’ll find that you needed to know all that prologue.

About midway through chapter one, “The Blacksmith’s Daughter” really hits its stride and from there on out, there’s plenty of plot to pull the reader though the occasional bit of necessary fill-in.

“The Blacksmith’s Daughter” hovers on an edge between standard fantasy, mild romance, and the Young Adult category the publishers have chosen to put it in. While many of the tropes in the story are fairly standard fantasy, none of them comes across as cookie-cutter. The pint-sized heroine is great fun, unexpected and full of twisty quirks, unusual strengths and a quiet competence not often seen in fantasy females. I love that not only is she a blacksmith’s daughter, she’s a blacksmith herself.

Oddly, the main hero character engaged me the least. He was certainly fine, but nothing really sets him apart. The main hero’s long-time best friend is far more interesting a character. I’ll be keeping an eye out for him if and when the promised sequel comes along!

All-told, “The Blacksmith’s Daughter” provides everything a reader could want from a fantasy novel: Engaging main characters, entertaining secondary characters, wizardly wizards, icky bad guys, sword play and magic. And about that magic: I’m really hard on magical systems in books and movies, because so often it’s misused as an abrupt deus ex machina. Wave your arms and make everything sparkly and fixed: That kind of magic. So I’m pleased to report that the magic in “The Blacksmith’s Daughter” has clearly been well thought out and has sane uses and limitations. Thanks, Arley, for that gift.

In conclusion, I only have one more thing to say: Where are the maps? You can’t have fantasy lands without maps. LOL It sprains the reader’s tiny mind!

My recommendation: Read “The Blacksmith’s Daughter.” And when you’re done, let me know what you think about Enith.

Because I think she’s fab. Just like the chick who brought her to life: Well done, young wizard. Well done indeed.

That said, I find this Amendment 26 in Mississippi, the so-called “Personhood Amendment,” overly worrisome. My daughter takes birth control for a medical condition. Is this going to become illegal? Will she just have to live with a condition that’s easily treatable, just in case she might have sex someday? It’s insane.

Anything that makes doctors nervous gives me pause, I have to admit. Plus, it’s just going to be a huge lawyerly clusterbomb from the word go: The only people who will benefit from this amendment, born or unborn, will be lawyers billing by the hour to deal with all the lawsuits. In a state that’s already so strapped for budget that it has persistent childhood poverty and is cutting education and human services, what we really, really need is an influx of state, local and federal law suits to gum up the judicial works and churn out money for the lawyers.

If the personhood people want to go after abortion, let them go after it straight-forward. I know how I’d vote on abortion, but I also know that I’m not going to vote yes on an amendment that might see my daughter have a miscarriage someday and be charged with homicide. With all due respect, I think a lot of well-meaning people need to really, honestly read this amendment, and try to see past the “save the unborn” to all it could potentially do to our daughters.

Upon pondering, it occurs to me… If the anti-birth control amendment passes next week, women will still have one line of defense. NO. Just say no. Ever hear of Lysistrata? Get ready, ladies, for one heckuva battle. But just remember… if he hits you, it’s assault. Just say NO to sex.

My New Motto: Say Yes to 26 and Say NO to Sex. With men. Ever.

Let’s see how that freak flag flies.

Sometimes it gets pointed out in unexpected ways, though. I’m quite familiar with two specific internet communities. Technically, I belong to both, but truthfully I’m a lurker at best. The reason? I’m too nice for one of them, apparently, and too careless for the other.

Somedays you just can’t win. Look at a photo instead.

Tremble

I met Lewis Shiner, briefly, in Boston in 1989. He was at NoreastCon, which was WorldCon that year, and so were my husband and I. In fact, I met him at the same time I met Connie Willis, and while I doubt that either of them remembers one fangirl among hundreds, it was a big deal for me.

I’m not quite sure how “Glimpses” and “Deserted Cities of the Heart” had found their way into my reading stack, but I’d loved them both. They were unlike anything I’d ever read at the time. The Library Journal described “Glimpses” as “… the first rock n roll time-travel novel. Ray Chackleford is a self-employed electronics repairman whose marriage is foundering and whose father has recently died. … In the midst of this emotional turmoil, Ray–a rock drummer during his youth in the late Sixties–begins to hear in his head and manages to transfer to tape legendary unfinished recordings by Jim Morrison, Brian Wilson, and Jimi Hendrix. This music is accompanied by “journeys” into the troubled lives of these rock musicians.”

I just remember how real it felt to me, at that time. This was the ’80s, and the ’60s were well on their way to becoming the mythic land of our youth. “Glimpses,” for me, is a kind of electric koolaid acid test mixed with the sweet, honest sentiment of “Field of Dreams.” Maybe we really could have made a difference. Maybe we really could have built a better world. Instead, many of us turned into Republicans and Shiner’s writing hints presciently of that loss.

“Deserted Cities of the Heart” brought Mayan culture to my attention. And skateboarding. Yes, in the same book.

My favorite Lewis Shiner book, though, came out after that notable WorldCon meeting. It’s called “SLAM.”

Again, I can’t do the short synopsis thing any better than the Library Journal. “Realism, idealism, and fantasy are skillfully interwoven into a novel of personal adjustment and rebellion. Dave Stokes is a product of the 1960s who is trapped in a personal time warp. While his friends have compromised ideals for professions and families, Dave at 39 is newly released from prison after serving time for income tax evasion. Living on the fringes of society, associating with runaway teens, a down-and-out evangelist, a prison escapee, and other social discards, he finally makes peace with himself and his world…. As an anti-hero, Dave is ethical and likable; the secondary theme of skateboarding is unique; and the tension derived from peripheral drug deals, arson, and other illicit acts is riveting.”

“SLAM” was the strangest, most utterly cool thing I’d ever read at that point in my life, and I absolutely loved it.

Shiner kinda drifted out of sight on the SF after a while, but thanks to our friend Wiki, I see that he moved into writing more mainstream-type novels and also into providing his work online. His “Fiction Liberation Front” http://www.lewisshiner.com/liberation/index.htm offers almost all his work, in PDF and HTML format.

Shiner really deserves more recognition than he gets. His “Hunter Thompson goes on a road trip with Carlos Castenada set to an awesome ’60s soundtrack” manner is mind-strippingly original. He also lets you remember skateboarding when skatepunks were cool rather than threatening.

Go forth and read some Lewis Shiner. I bet you’ll enjoy it!

According to Wikipedia, he wrote mostly short fiction, mostly in the ’40s and ’50s. Color me educated.

One of these days there’ll be an author I can have an opinion about. So say we all. ;D

*wince*

I’ve looked at several of his books, but nothing ever really called out to me. So somebody needs to make me a recommendation. What Vernor Vinge book do I need to read?

I’ll say this about him: He was once married to Joan D. Vinge, who wrote one of my all-time favorite science fiction novels, “The Snow Queen.” I first read that book years ago, back when I was a member of the SF/F Book Club and got it in one of those cheap hardcover editions, and fell in love. For some reason, the character who resonated with me deeper than any other was Herne, the Starbuck, a furious crippled man who’d had everything and lost it. But all the rest is fabulous as well, from the star-crossed main characters to the mysterious mask maker to the Snow Queen herself. As much as the people, the world and the greater universe is also wonderfully drawn and become almost characters on their own.

I’ve probably reread “The Snow Queen” at least three times through the years. I’ve read the follow-ups as well, “World’s End,” “The Summer Queen,” “Tangled Up In Blue,” but while they’re all good, none holds the magic of “The Snow Queen.”

So thanks, Vernor Vinge, for once upon a time having an awesome wife.