I was just updating my articles page to add a link to the "Speculative Fiction: The Next Generation" piece, and I decided to dig up the links to the Flash Gordon quizzes of mine SCIFI.com published. They’re about the historical iterations of Flash Gordon, not the craptastic new version that’s running on SCI FI. (Actually, all of the iterations were pretty craptastic.) If you want to check them out, here are the links:
The golden age of science fiction is said to be thirteen–that magical age at which readers discover and fall in love with the genre. But while some of those thirteen year olds become life-long readers, others don’t just want to read it–they want to write it too.
So what drives people to create rather than just consume? And why is it that so many young people with said creative impulse wind up becoming fans of—and, subsequently, creators of—science fiction, fantasy, and horror instead of other genres?
That whooshing sound you just heard might have been the huge sigh of relief I just let out after finishing the last of my three articles for the 2009 Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market. I had like six months to write these things; why did I have to wait until the last two weeks of December to even start trying to work on them? Note I say trying; work in earnest didn’t really begin until three days ago. And here I am finishing up right at the deadline.
If you’re interested, the three articles are:
The titles are subject to change, but the ones I have there pretty much let you know what the articles are about, so no further description is necessary, I reckon. You’ll have to wait at least until August to read them in print. And I’ll attempt to sell them elsewhere as reprints, but if no one wants to reprint them, I’m sure they’ll end up here on my blog. Meanwhile, enjoy my article "Speculative Fiction: The Next Generation," which I wrote for the Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market 2008.
SCI FI Wire print news thru December 31, 2007:
Do yourself a favor and check out this movie called Fido (now on DVD). Basically, it’s what you’d get if you mashed up Leave It to Beaver and Night of the Living Dead. In the 50s there’s some kind of space germ that turns the dead into zombies, resulting in a zombie war. A company called Zomcon develops technologies and strategies for beating back the zombie hordes so people can live in peace again. There are vast areas of land known as the "Wild Zone"–desolate wastelands where the zombies roam free. An oasis in that wilderness is the town of Willard, which is a sort of perfect, utopian piece of suburbia. The town is made possible by the perimeter fence that keeps the zombies out. Or the wild zombies anyway. See, some scientist developed a collar that allows you to control zombies. Put it around their neck, and you can stifle their impulse to consume human flesh. It also makes them receptive to commands, so they become a sort of slave, doing menial tasks no one else wants to do. The movie’s about a boy whose family gets their first zombie, who he names Fido.
It’s good stuff. A good, solid story, with just the right amount of humor. Pretty good performances all around, and some nice, subtle social commentary. Highly recommended.
Author Douglas Smith just updated his excellent foreign markets list. Hey, it’s a new year–why not make one of your resolutions to sell some of your stories in translation? Looks like there’s plenty of viable markets here, most of which will read your stories in English, translate them free of charge, and pay you cash money.
And all those stories you’ve got in your trunk? Why not try those in foreign markets as well? Maybe no English-language readers but your mom likes that one story, but who knows, it could be a big hit in Polish.
The pizza place a couple blocks away from me is on fire. This photo was taken from my driveway. That big building you see there is a middle school. (Good thing there was no school today.) It looks like the fire’s IN the school, but there’s like a whole block between the school and the pizza place. Unfortunately, right next to the pizza place is a gas station, so hopefully they’ll contain the fire before it spreads over there.
The February 2008 issue of F&SF is now on sale. Also, on the F&SF website is this month’s bonus story, First Tuesday by Robert Reed (reprinted from our February 1996 issue).
Here’s the table of contents:
NOVELETS
SHORT STORIES
DEPARTMENTS
CARTOONS
COVER
My grandfather passed away last night after a long battle with Alzheimer’s, Parkinson’s, and a variety of other ailments. He was 84, and very nearly made it to 85–his birthday was just 22 days away.
For the past year and a half or so, he’s been living in a nursing home, after spending the prior five years living with me. After my grandmother died last year, it became impossible to take care of him on my own, since he couldn’t be left alone, so after a brief stint a really terrible place, I got him placed in the Menlo Park Veteran’s Home in Edison, NJ. That place was a godsend, and I’m very thankful he was able to spend the rest of his days there, with those good people taking care of him.
His death was not a shock; a few weeks ago, the doctors had talked to me about his quality of life (or lack thereof), and discussed his advanced directive options. Over the past several months, he’d deteriorated considerably. I used to be able to visit him and he’d know me, and could talk a bit, and boy did he look forward to going outside with me so he could have a cigarette. But a couple months ago, at some point, it was like a switch going off–there didn’t seem to be any medical event that the doctors could point to as the cause, but just like that, my grandfather–the man I knew growing up–seemed to be completely gone, and in his place was a man who looked just like him (albeit much thinner) but had none of the other qualities that made him who he was.
Because I was prepared for this eventuality, his death was easier to take. I had lost him bit by bit, until eventually, there was nothing left to lose.
