It's all work, I tell you
Nov. 16th, 2015 01:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
desperanceGardner says I can boast as much as I want to, so let me just say that my story "The Astrakhan, the Homburg and the Red Red Coal" (aka "Oscar Wilde on Mars!") from Lightspeed's Queers Destroy SF issue will appear also in The Year's Best SF, vol 33, edited by Gardner Dozois.
Which makes me two for two, in respect of the Mars Imperial stories. Which will not stop me writing more, and tossing 'em out there to take their chances. Sibling rivalry, guys: it's all about setting a high bar.
That was yesterday's news, which actually reached me at Tachyon's 20th anniversary party in the city, while I was gazing in awe at Effie's rhino cake.
Then I had to sit for an hour on a freezing railway station (Millbrae, why no waiting room? Seriously? You don't even have to heat it, just let us get out of the wind...), and today I don't feel so good. These two facts may be entirely unrelated; post hoc propter hoc is totally a fallacy, and you don't get colds by getting cold. Regardless of what Elinor Brent-Dyer thought. (It is an abiding fact of Chalet School life that the remotest unmuffled exposure to cold weather will instantly put you in bed and under Matron's care for a week. I find this oddly charming.)
However. I haven't even opened up my word processor today, except to print out the contract for Gardner (and I haven't even taken that to the mailbox down the road, I feel that crappy), but nevertheless. I have actually been secretly at work all the morning, as I lay on the sofa reading Raffles.
For I am all Mars all the time these days, as you know by now - and I have said before that there is a Raffles story in the mix. If Mars were a province of the British Empire, of course Raffles would have gone there, with Bunny haplessly in tow. One more reinvention of themselves and each other, one more chance to start a new life, one more set of new leaves overturned as irresistible temptation meets undeniable need. The whole thing is just inevitable. (The only thing I'm hung up on is what two names they'd use this time. Because it would be nice if those sounded inevitable also.)
Also, I have ordered two more Chalet School books, and that as you know counts as work also. Properly, as I'm sick, it should be Chalet School books that I'm reading; but I'm on hiatus in my extant reread until I've bridged the current gap in my collection, and I find I can only do that little by little, a couple of books a month. Ordering half a dozen at once is apparently beyond me, even though I know that I am going to order them all eventually.
Which makes me two for two, in respect of the Mars Imperial stories. Which will not stop me writing more, and tossing 'em out there to take their chances. Sibling rivalry, guys: it's all about setting a high bar.
That was yesterday's news, which actually reached me at Tachyon's 20th anniversary party in the city, while I was gazing in awe at Effie's rhino cake.
Then I had to sit for an hour on a freezing railway station (Millbrae, why no waiting room? Seriously? You don't even have to heat it, just let us get out of the wind...), and today I don't feel so good. These two facts may be entirely unrelated; post hoc propter hoc is totally a fallacy, and you don't get colds by getting cold. Regardless of what Elinor Brent-Dyer thought. (It is an abiding fact of Chalet School life that the remotest unmuffled exposure to cold weather will instantly put you in bed and under Matron's care for a week. I find this oddly charming.)
However. I haven't even opened up my word processor today, except to print out the contract for Gardner (and I haven't even taken that to the mailbox down the road, I feel that crappy), but nevertheless. I have actually been secretly at work all the morning, as I lay on the sofa reading Raffles.
For I am all Mars all the time these days, as you know by now - and I have said before that there is a Raffles story in the mix. If Mars were a province of the British Empire, of course Raffles would have gone there, with Bunny haplessly in tow. One more reinvention of themselves and each other, one more chance to start a new life, one more set of new leaves overturned as irresistible temptation meets undeniable need. The whole thing is just inevitable. (The only thing I'm hung up on is what two names they'd use this time. Because it would be nice if those sounded inevitable also.)
Also, I have ordered two more Chalet School books, and that as you know counts as work also. Properly, as I'm sick, it should be Chalet School books that I'm reading; but I'm on hiatus in my extant reread until I've bridged the current gap in my collection, and I find I can only do that little by little, a couple of books a month. Ordering half a dozen at once is apparently beyond me, even though I know that I am going to order them all eventually.