My fave is the semicolon; however, I refuse to cede em-dashes or any other punctuation marks to ChatGPT.
These attacks on the em dash — a ChatGPT hyphen? How very dare you! — have in turn blazed across social media spaces populated by the kind of folks who will tell you, unprompted, that they have a favorite punctuation mark and what it is. (It is very likely the em dash.) — https://www.salon.com/2025/06/11/ai-cant-have-my-em-dash/
“I started out by taking the most ancient societies on each continent – Etruscans, Asian, European, and African cultures,” Chan tells us. “I looked at the most fundamental motifs and gathered them into a bible, then asked my team to imagine 100 generations from now, when the diaspora of Earth have chosen to live together in society. How would they evolve a unified set of symbols? A language that really honours where they came from.”
This informed the alphabet that can be seen in the decoration painted across the otherwise grey, corporate habitat the PresAux crew are leasing. At the same time, acknowledging how much of the crew is queer and polyamorous, the colours of the rainbow are also entwined into their decorations.
“All of that is mashed up but it has a fundamental logic to it,” says Chan.
I’m incredibly excited for people to watch Murderbot on Apple TV+. Sci-fi has been my favourite genre by a country mile forever, and being on a show like this has always been a career goal of mine. Frankly, I had too much fun filming that show, and getting paid to do it constantly felt like I was getting away with something on set.
And the show is just so good. I can confidently say it’s fantastic – and if you don’t like it, then I would gently tell you that it’s OK to be wrong sometimes.
And then once I got the role, I read the books and I was legit just blown away at how funny the books were. I just haven’t seen such a dry sarcastic sensibility with this kind of hero sci-fi stories. And then I also just really liked that it was in the tradition of I felt like Octavia Butler, where it’s like, “oh, this is a queer imagining of the future.” So I don’t know. I just thought it was a really sweet, funny, different world. I also, obviously every comedian who becomes an actor, their dream is to get to work on something with action to move beyond an It’s Always Sunny kind of comedy. I believe there was already an opportunity for me to be in a spaceship and shoot guns, and it just made me happy that it was genuinely funny source material.
* Video interview with Tattiawna Jones (Arada) and Tamara Podemski (Bharadwaj):
Leading a TV series is a first for Dumezweni, who has previously been cast in smaller roles. She wasn’t convinced by the initial pitch at first because sci-fi hasn’t traditionally had a lot of major roles for actors of color.
“Usually I’d come in and play the receptionist,” she says. “I love to watch sci-fi. But I wondered: Who am I going to be in this sci-fi world?”
However, once she learned more about the world and the character, the actor changed her mind.
“It was an absolute joy to discover that there was nothing that Chris and Paul had to change to make it representational,” Dumezweni says. “It’s lovely not to have to fight for people’s positions in the world based on their skin color.”
* ETA: Wanted to add this one real quick from BlueSky:
Set in a near future where the line between machine and human is increasingly blurred, Murderbot explores themes of identity, autonomy, and what it truly means to be alive through the eyes of a self-aware security android. Adapted from Martha Wells’s beloved The Murderbot Diaries novels, the series blends gripping sci-fi action with sharp, witty humor. At the heart of the story is Noma Dumezweni’s portrayal of Dr. Ayda Mensah, the thoughtful leader of a pacifist civilization struggling to uphold her community’s ideals amid a universe dominated by corporate greed and political tensions. Noma brings to the role a grounded strength, embodying the delicate balance between idealism and pragmatism as her character wrestles with the burdens of leadership and moral compromise. The parallels between Noma and Ayda run deep: both choose to lead with heart, courage, and conviction. “Your head will try to talk you out of that feeling of expansion. It will tell you, ‘You can’t do this,’” Noma says. “Trust your body, trust your instinct. Your body knows the truth.” That instinct and bravery have guided her career, from becoming the first Black actress to portray Hermione Granger on stage, a landmark moment for representation in theater, to winning two Laurence Olivier Awards and becoming a beacon of inspiration for a new generation of actors. Like Ayda, Noma has forged a path not only of leadership, but of quiet, transformative power.
Don't think I've previously either come across this or posted it, but who knows: Out on the Town: Magnus Hirschfeld and Berlin’s Third Sex: 'Years before the Weimar Republic’s well-chronicled freedoms, the 1904 non-fiction study Berlin’s Third Sex depicted an astonishingly diverse subculture of sexual outlaws in the German capital'.
provides an original and stirring account of a non-commodifying queer love between two women and nonhuman nature—a love that was the defining relationship of Carson’s life and yet has been downplayed in heteronormative tellings of her story. So, too, is Maxwell’s work a convincing argument for this queer love’s formative role in the writing of Silent Spring, as well as an empowering message about how embracing queer feelings might function as a catalyst for “political and personal power” in contemporary environmental politics.
[S]ources suggest that McLagan’s mother was probably of Black Caribbean or Black African descent.... McLagan’s father, Peter McLagan (1774-1860)... enslaved over 400 people on his plantations and personal estate in Demerara.
In fact there is strong evidence as mentioned in that article that he was by no means the first Black MP. Issues of class and family connections clearly played a significant role up to the mid-C19th.
'How come a country that did not have a colonial past in Zambia had so many artefacts from Zambia in its collection?'" In the 19th and early 20th Centuries Swedish explorers, ethnographers and botanists would pay to travel on British ships to Cape Town and then make their way inland by rail and foot. .... The Swedish museum had not done any research on the cloaks - and the National Museums Board of Zambia was not even aware they existed.
***
Artist's work to restore damaged shell grotto (I put this in a short story once.) (My own theory is that it was originally A Folly. Doing things with shells was as I recall quite A Thing in the C18th and Mrs Delany and her mate the Duchess of Portland had a rather less concealed shell grotto?)
No, but I'd like to tell you that you urgently need a proofreader. Are you aware that you just made me answer the same question about my desired salary three different ways? Once was plenty enough! Also, why are you asking what currency I want it in, and since you are asking, why is one time US dollar at the top of the drop down and the other two times it's alphabetical under "United States"? Did you even look at this before posting, and once again afterwards?
(These people really urgently need help with this, but unless this is a Secret Test I guess telling them wouldn't help me much.)
Alternative answer to the question: "Yes, I'd like to tell you that I really need money, please give me some, with or without hiring me first."
My day on Thursday started with something I will probably never experience again in my life: the sighting of a pine martin in the wild. I literally have never seen this animal before in my life, except a brief glimpse at the Minnesota Zoo.
The folks working at the lodge confirmed. They'd been sighting a pine martin between the staff cabin and Cabin 1 (where we're staying.)
I did another big hike. This time I took Poplar Trail. Again, there wasn't a whole lot to see on this trail of note, except that for a brief time I turned off and headed toward Bear Cub Trail and was following very closely to the Gunflint Trail road.
Image: wild roses
Much of the rest of the day was spent reading and enjoying the intermittent sunshine. Shawn and I walked down to the Lodge's beach and stuck our toes in the water. It is very cold! The ice only came off the lake a couple of weeks ago. But, my ankles had been kind of sore from all the hiking I've been doing and so I decided it was the right kind of refreshing.
We drove up to the Trail Center for dinner and generally enjoyed being "in civilization" (or at least in company with more of our fellow humans.) As we were leaving there was a clot of old duffers sharing actual fish stories about that "eight pound walleye" caught "out by the big rock."
Classic.
We head home tomorrow, but I'm hoping to stop along the way at all the State Parks so get my passport stamped, etc. But, I may have to do a big re-cap on Sunday of both today (Friday) and our drive home (Saturday.) See you all then!
In the meantime, here is some honeysuckle (I believe) growing in a sunny spot on a wide road.
Okay, am v depressed by all the ongoing hoohah around AI and the people using it rather than their own brains, quite aside from Evil Exploitation aspect -
- but on intellectual pollution, having been moaning inwardly, banging the floor with my ebony cane and beating my head on my antimacassar for a considerable while over the awful errors that appear in prose because the word is correctly spelt but it is THE WRONG BLOODY WORD.
That the person who created that text has not picked up on, sigh, groan.
Insert here a lament for the decline in copy-editing and proof-reading, which might have spotted this sort of thing and corrected it.
I am a little worried that we are now have generations who do not know what words actually mean, because spell-check has not said anything .
This is brought to you by having encountered the term 'itinerary' deployed for something that is not, as far as I can see, a journey, but the programme/timetable for a meeting. Perhaps there is some sense of a progression to be made???
(The mermaids signing, each to each: that is why I cannot hear them.)
It's very poignant to be here again. I'm in Minneapolis so rarely that I can still distinguish each visit, but the overall sense is one of extended memory, that is not just of my own, but of anecdotes from my mother and grandmother about their lives here, my grandmother as a (very) young adult, and my mother as a kid.
Not all the memories of mine are good--the week we spent in Bloomington ranged from weird to horrific, the axis we kid spun around was the sound of my mother crying in the bathroom when my bio grandfather started his daily drinking and turned into a monster. We kids at least escaped with his bio kids (our age, his second marriage) but mom couldn't escape--we had the car.
The city that was best to them all (though mom only got to visit, never got to live there) was Red Wing. I adore that place! There's something so peaceful about Red Wing. And extended memory is very complete, as we heard ALL the stories about life on the farm, etc. But it wasn't idyllic--my grandmother and her older sister had to go--that was the conditions my great-grandmother accepted when she remarried in order to save the farm, around 1930, with the Depression really digging in. The man said he could abide the two younger girls but the sixteen year old (my grandmother) and her older sister had to get out and find their way on their own. Which they did, in Minneapolis, waiting tables.
Anyway I'm here for a con. I came a day early, knowing that getting in at one in the morning would leave me a zombie for a day. The weather is perfect--cool and cloudy. I think I'll go out for another walk.
If I’m writing about my adventures a day behind, I should probably make a short list of the things I’ve read to start with. I finished listening to Blood Ink Sister Scribe last night. I will admit that I got a little bogged down in the middle of the book, re-read Trouble and Her Friends (for an up-coming podcast,) and then listened to the second half of it. While I’ve been up here, Martha Well’s Network Effect came up for grabs as an audiobook, so I downloaded that during one of my daily treks to the lodge for internet.
Yesterday started with a nice canoe trip around part of the lake. Shawn and I like to get up early, around 6:30 or 7 am, and do a near-silent drift along the lake. It often pays off in terms of animal sightings. Yesterday we had our first truly sunny morning, and we saw (we counted) ten turtles in various spots sunning themselves on logs. On our return trip, we got the piece d’resistance: a river otter! The river otter was actually in the lake with us and bobbed up a couple of times (almost like trying to stand in the water) to try to decide if we were a danger or not and then disappeared under the water.
Super cool!
It was pretty darned magical, even though at that point in the trip around the lake we were fighting a chilly headwind so strong that if we stopped paddling the canoe would start to go sideways.
Almost immediately after making landfall, Mason and I hopped in the car and headed off to nearby Judge C. R. Magney State Park to revisit Devil’s Kettle.
Shawn elected to stay behind. Her knee, which has been performing like an absolute champ this trip, has been getting stiff and sore after canoe rides. She bends very well for someone who is really only about six months out of knee surgery but getting in and out of the canoe from the dock is more of a challenge. The idea of doing all those stairs down—and then back up again—to see the first set of falls felt like a bad idea to her. I don’t blame her, but we still felt sad leaving her behind even though she said it was okay.
Mason and I have been to this state park before, four years ago, but I was not yet a member of either the Passport or the Minnesota State Parks and Trails Hiking Club. I brought my state park passport along and got my stamp!
Image: passport stamp
I was glad Shawn did not come once we started the hike. I’m here to tell you that being fat and asthmatic is no real barrier (so long as you have your inhaler, are generally mobile, and are willing to take it slowly,) but I do not think Shawn’s knee would have survived the uneven, sloped parts of the trail, NEVERMIND the stairs.
Speaking of being fat, I did have at least one stranger feel free to tell me that I was “doing great, honey!” But you know what? I was! So, I decided to ignore the fairly pointed assumption about my general health based on my size, and said, “Thanks! You, too!”
Mason and I had a lovely hike back down. I’d swear, actually, that I took the stairs back up much faster this year than I did four years ago. This is not to say that we didn’t pause on any of the landings that are on offer, but I made very steady progress and never felt like my heart was pounding out of my chest or any of that. I honestly think it helped that the weather has been quite cool up here, so while I worked up a sweat, it never felt overwhelming. TMI? But I’m kind of proud of myself, I guess? Especially after that lady’s “encouragement.”
On our way back to Gunflint Trail and the Lodge, Mason and I stopped in Grand Marais for lunch. This trip is a gift to Mason for graduating from university and so I let him pick the place. We stopped at Angry Trout to have fish sandwiches and an incredible view of the marina, if you can call it such, on Lake Superior.
Image: Mason contemplating the menu at Angry Trout.
The drive back was uneventful and we spent much of the rest of the evening sitting on the dock staring out at the lake (or reading.) We have new “neighbors” in cabin two. They are two old duffers who are here for a guy’s weekend of fishing and catching up. Shawn, who was here all day, talked to them a bit. One of them is from the Twin Cities (Oakdale or somewhere like that) and the other is previously from the area, but has since moved to Arizona. He told us he left nearly 100 F / C temps. We made the classic joke about having brought the sun with him, since this was one of the first non-rainy days.
Normally, we don’t interact much with the other cabins, but the forestry service has done a lot of fire maintenance around the lodge and so all of the underbrush is gone, chopped down. It looks little denuded, and apocalypse-y and it also means you see more people coming in out of cabins from further away and have to make the tough Minnesota decision: “Do I wave? Do I have to wave? Oh crap, we made eye contact, I will lift my hand and wave. Oh, god, this is awkward, how long do I wave?” And, yes, I’m actually the family’s extrovert. But I’m also very aware that most people in Minnesota do not actually want to have to talk to strangers, especially when they are “up nort” on a fishing trip with their old college buddy.
Very nice and punctual but they've basically learned nothing in the year they've worked at the theatre. Not where to stand, not which row is which, or the general location of a given seat. The last two really matter during reserved seating shows. Whatever side that usher is on is going to have lines, and people may end up in the wrong seats.
So I was discussing the situation with my boss and I said my current approach was that each shift would be to pick one thing that usher does not know, and do my best to ensure they know it by the end of the shift. Last shift was "where to stand", for example. My reward is, I think, that usher is now _my_ special project who I will be working with whenever I HM.
I did assure my boss I do remember a previous HM who grilled ushers on seat location and would ding them a quarter hour for minor uniform infractions and that I wasn't going to use them as a model. Well, I do, but only in the sense of asking myself if the way I want to handle something is how that person would, and if it is, I do something else.
In exactly 3 weeks the Aud trilogy will be published in the UK for the first time. It only took 27 years. I know I’m not exactly an impartial observer but these books really do kick ass. I love them with a crazy love. And I would dearly like UK readers to go preorder a copy.
Do you know any other queer noir/not-noir novels1 praised by Dennis Lehane, Val McDermid, Dorothy Allison, Lee Child, Manda Scott, Francis Spufford, Laurie King, Ivy Pochoda, Robert Crais, Elizabeth Hand, James Sallis and more? No? Then maybe you should go find out what brings together such disparate writers in their love.
You can pre-order now, or put a hold on the books at your local library. Enjoy!
They use some of the prose style of noir but they don’t do noir, in the sense that Aud, the protagonist, does not trap herself in an ever-downward spiral. The three books between them describe a hopeful arc—with, y’know, lots of sex, and scams, and seamy cityscapes. Aud, like Hild, has an essential joy in life no matter what tight spot she finds herself in… ︎
I went through my following and I was so sad to see so so many of my old beloved Sherlock blogs being gone or having moved on (good for all of you having found a new passion, as did I for a while 🫶)
So, if you’re a new(-ish) Sherlock blog or I don’t follow you yet, please let me know!!
Also, please recommend me some still active Sherlock blogs. Maybe I don’t follow them yet…
Gimme all the Sherlocks !!!
the good news is, there are new sherlock fans, too! every so often they pop up on my dash, and it’s great! (i think maybe i see them because i still follow the sherlock tag?)
That’s what I hope, that I’ll find those new Sherlock fans bit by bit. Good to see your still here though ☺️
Yesterday, we decided to do our usual attempt to see moose at Moose Viewing Trail. We are past moose season, really. I mean, moose are out here in the woods. It’s possible to see one. But, tourists, like ourselves, are more likely to see moose during calving, which is earlier in the year--in May.
Moose are sometimes more active in the early morning hours, so to sweeten the “how about we get up at the crack of dawn?” deal for our late risers in the house (namely Mason), we decided that once we have attempted to moose view, we would hit the new nearby coffee shop called Loon’s Rest.
We did not see any moose at Moose Viewing as expected.
Image: Moose Viewing view (Note: No Moose.)
The other funky thing about Moose Viewing trail is the fact that as you turn in to the official Moose Viewing platform, there is a myserious abandoned car. There are a lot of questions about this car. How did it get here? When did it get here? How did the boulder get on top of it?
Image: car in woods?
We ran into a couple of well-equipped hikers from Oklahoma who were perhaps a little too eager for moose. We gave our best advice, which was hang out as long as you can and be quiet—and, you know? Maybe they got lucky. I hope they did.
The Loon’s Nest was entirely full of old, white men (but one can sort of say that generally about the Gunflint Trail.) The espresso was perfectly adequate as were the croissant, egg, and sausage patties.
I did not attempt a big walk yesterday, since I wanted to save my strength for canoeing. Mason and I had yet to get out in the lake. When we did, it was the first time in a long time that Mason was in charge of steering. It took us a little time to figure out our rhythm, but once we got going we were amazing. We canoed out past the point to a part of Bearskin that Shawn and I call “capsize cove” thanks to a certain incident several years ago. There is a lovely beaver dam out in the cove. We fought the wind coming back, but it was actually fairly energizing.
This summer we’re behind on everything. Every. Damn. Thing. But we finally went to a nursery and bought a bunch of annuals to plant in our deck pots and the front flower bed. We have all kinds of bright deliciousness…
But, y’know, we’re behind. Charlie and George were on the back deck examining the pitiful state of the few survivors in pots from last year and Charlie decided it was time to sort us out—because there aren’t enough flowers to attract hummingbirds, and it’s not a fun summer without hummingbirds to leap at.
Charlie: Right then, George. Let’s just stride over to the other deck and get this done. George: [sensibly silent]
As we all know, however, cats are not the most focused, hard-working beasties in the world. So when Charlie got to the other deck and saw the amount of work to be done, well, let’s just say is response was predictable.
Sometimes just thinking about work can overcome a hero.
But never fear! We need to find some begonias—haven’t been able to find good ones yet this year—and then we will leap into action. Soon. Ish. And get those decks sorted. Stay tuned!
Gail Godwin, Getting to Know Death: A Meditation (2024) - rather slight, one for the completist, which I suppose I am.
Robert Rodi, Bitch Goddess (2014): 'told entirely through interviews, e-mails, fan magazine puff pieces, film reviews, shooting scripts, greeting cards, extortion notes, and court depositions', the story of the star of a lot of dire B-movies who has a later-life move into soap-stardom. I hadn't read this one before and it was a lot of campy fun.
TC Parker, Tradwife (2024) - another of those mystery/thrillers which riffs off true-crime style investigation - somebody here I think mentioned it? - I thought it went a few narrative twists too far though was pretty readable up till then.
On the go
Apart from those, still ticking on with Upton Sinclair, Wide Is The Gate (Lanny Budd, #4), boy I am glad that I am reading these in e-form, because they must be monstrous great bricks otherwise. In this one he actually ventures back to Germany, his marriage starts to crumble, he continues his delicate dance between all the various opposed interests in his life while managing to get support to the anti-Nazi/Fascist cause, Spain is now in the picture, and I have just seen a passing mention to Earl Russell being sent down for his Reno divorce (that wasn't quite the story, but one can quite imagine that was what gossip might have made of it 30 years down the line).
Up next
New Literary Review.
The three books for the essay review.
I think more Robert Rodi might be a nice change of pace from Lanny's ordeals.
As always, Evil!Janeway is hot, though less so than the Living Witness version. It's the eyes - our main characters all have huge eyes, so the somewhat more realistically animated adult human characters look slightly uncanny valley, even though their eyes ought to make sense.
Also, damn, Chakotay has got some arms! Is this true IRL? I don't remember ever seeing the live actor ever without sleeves....
Also also, I honestly love every time Gwen gets a moment of happiness, no matter how small. She really has had a miserable life. Every second chasing replicated pie over the ship, or squirting whipped cream into her mouth, or, one hopes, finally spending some time playing goofy holodeck games, is a second worth living. And so, I will say, I appreciate that the animators took the time to let her smirk a little when Evil!Chakotay proposed starting his torture session with "the cute one", aka Murf the Indestructible. You gotta find those moments of joy when you can, sweetie!
(Question: Are mirror tribbles... nice? What about their new team pet, Bribble? Would Bribble have a goatee and be evil in the mirror verse? How sapient is that thing, anyway?)
Accepting the Damon Knight Memorial Grand Master award in Kansas City, MO. 7 June, 2025.
A few days ago Kelley and I travelled to Kansas City to take part in the Nebula Awards Conference and for me to accept SFWA’s 41st Damon Knight Memorial Award.
I gave a speech. The speech was streamed live and recorded. In due time I’ll either post that video or link to it. Meanwhile, I’ve posted a transcript (below).
Giving speeches can be strange. It’s hard to predict the size and mood of the audience (in person and online) and difficult to gauge the sentiment ahead of time. The world is in a mercurial mood right now; it would be easy to get the vibe very wrong.
I can’t answer for those people, but I can say I think the speech went down okay: I got a standing ovation that lasted until I packed up my iPad and wheeled down the ramp and got back to my table. I am happy and I am grateful.
Thank You — Kansas City, MO, 7 June, 2025
Thank you. Ever since Kate first called I’ve been feeling this great, brimming sense of joy. You’re my people—being part of this community, part of SF, is where I feel as though I really belong. So this honour—it’s overwhelming. Thank you.
My very first SFWA event was in 1992, at the Nebulas in Atlanta. Kelley and I knew no one but we were welcomed with open arms and dragged around from group to group and introduced to everyone. I was amazed by the generosity—and that’s when I knew I wanted to belong here. SF is a culture of generosity—I’m guessing everyone in this room has helped and been helped by someone else here. No one does this alone. I certainly owe a lot to many people. And they deserve thanks.
And instead of taking these few minutes now to thank them, I’ve written a blog post. It’s either already live or will be soon. Please do read it—because I really want the people named to know how grateful I am. And I hope they’ll forgive me for not thanking them here, from the stage, because tonight, while I have your attention, I’m sure you’ll be shocked—shocked!—to hear I have a few things to say.
What I want to talk about is world-building, and what it really means.
Most of us here are writers but we’re all readers. I won’t speak for you but I turn to books for pleasure—whether we’re talking knowledge, or solace and reassurance, or vindication. As a kid, it was from books that I found out that there are other people out there who think trees are for climbing and axes for throwing and who look at other girls and want to kiss them. Books, story is where we turn to discover how it is to be human in all our shapes and circumstances. Story is where we turn for answers.
There are a lot of people out there right now who are looking for answers. I keep hearing the same lament: the world is terrible, I don’t understand what’s happening, I don’t know what to do. What can I do? This is how the world is now.
SF writers talk a lot about world-building, imagining and figuring out different societies, ecologies, and economies. But what writers do is so much more important, more powerful than that. We create story. And culture is built on story; culture is the shared story of who we are. The phrase ‘cultural producer’ isn’t a fanciful one; it’s what we do. We create culture. We create worlds—including this one.
It’s very easy to feel helpless if we think in terms of ‘this is just how the world is’. But the world is what we’ve made it. Which means we can unmake it, and remake it, make something better. We can imagine that better world and then build a working version, to show it’s possible.
To do that we have to be brave. Brave enough to leave the safety of the herd, the comfort of doing things the way they’ve always been done, and believing what we’ve always believed.
And then we have to help the reader be brave. Brave enough to let themselves imagine, brave enough to hope and dream. To find joy.
I think it can be really hard to imagine joy when we’ve been told misery and suffering is Just The Way of The World. But we—our stories—have the power to change that.
I’ve written, or am writing, fiction set in the past, the present, and the future, in worlds that maybe never were but perhaps could be. These are worlds where othered lives—queer lives, black lives, disabled or trans or underpaid and overworked lives—are just…lives. Lived by people. People with the same chance of joy as anyone else. That’s the key: that people find joy—or terror, or excitement—because of what they do or don’t do. Because of the decisions they make, how they behave, not because of who they are. Or who we’ve been taught to think they are.
If we do that, then readers can feel safe to let down their barriers, safe to risk imagining and living a life different to their own—perhaps one they’ve been taught is wrong or hard or dangerous. Safe to dream another’s dreams, learn another’s lessons, and feel an Other’s joy. Safe, while they’re immersed in story, to become someone else. Because if we do that, we can change how the reader thinks and feels about people who aren’t like them. Just for a little while. And sometimes a little while is all it takes. We can change the world, one reader a time.
That’s what I mean by world-building. It means to be brave. To see clearly. To not turn away. To name our reality, yes—and then to see past it, around it, or just go straight through it to what else might be out there that we’ve been trained not to see. There’s a reason many people sneer at ‘escapism’—dreaming is dangerous to the world order. As Tolkien said, those who tend to worry most about escape are the jailers.
So what kind of culture do you want to live in? What story are you going to tell? Go tell that story. I would love to see the world remade in the image of this community, of SF: a culture of warmth and generosity, a world where we all belong.
Thank you.
The award itself is very cool: made just for me; unique. When it arrives—it’s being shipped because it weighs at least 3 kg; there’s no way we could fit it in our luggage—I’ll post photos and explain the significance of all the nifty things embedded in the lucite.
The weather here has been overcast and rainy. As Shawn told a somewhat uncertain staff person, “It’s gorgeous!” (The staff was concerned that she was being sarcastic. Shawn assured her that she was not.) Our family is very happily indoorsy. So, we spent much of the day inside, by a roaring fire, reading.
However, the weather cleared up on and off, and during one of the ‘on’s, Shawn and I headed out for an early morning canoe. We tend to canoe much like we hike, which is to say, we don’t go all that far, and we glide along at a snail’s pace.
Image: Shawn in a canoe at Bearskin
I’ve also resumed my quest to walk as many of Bearskin’s ski trails as I feel is reasonable. I tend to enjoy a hike to a destination like Sunday’s accidental trip to Rudy Lake, but not all of the ski trails are set up for vistas. In fact, most of them aren’t. A person can tell, even as hiker, how excellent they are for skiers. So many up and down slopes! We are technically in the Pincushion Mountains here, (though people from the Coasts are allowed to scoff at what we call mountains around here.) However, the elevation changes are real! In fact, it usually takes me a few days to get used to the steep slopes. This time, having just come from Middletown, CT, which I feel like was built entirely at a 45-degree angle (all of it uphill!), I didn’t seem to need as much time.
At any rate, this year, I decided to try and find Ox Cart. FYI, an Ox Cart would not make it around this loop. I mean, I guess oxen are strong? But pulling a cart would be tough! Skiing however? It would be glorious.
Bob, the owner of Bearskin, did want to point out that if I walked Ox Cart, I would see the new boardwalk that they installed.
The boardwalk goes over a very marshy, swampy area. A place that my family would call “very moosey,” as this seems to be the sort of areas that we imagine moose tend to enjoy. This is a highly unscientific “hot take,” however. The one time that we saw moose in the wild, while hiking (at, of all places, “Moose Viewing Trail”) there was a place a little like this, though much more lake-y and slightly less boggy/swampy.
Moosey view.
I did not see moose here.
I will note, however, that I did see moose tracks and what was very obviously moose scat on my way back out of this trail. So, perhaps our family is not entirely wrong as to what constitutes a moosey place.
Much of my hike was just woods.
Image: wooded path
However, I have been trying to stop and take pictures of wildflowers that I’ve been seeing on my hikes. Here are a few:
Image: pussy feet? Something like that (looking for id, pameladean !)
However, this did lead me to look up certain rare faves of mine, and lo and behold, British Library Women Writers have actually just reprinted, all praise to them, GB Stern's The Woman in the Hall, 1939 and never republished. Yay. This to my mind is one of her top works.
Also remark here that Furrowed Middlebrow are bringing back works that have genuinely been hard to get hold of, like the non-Cold Comfort Farm Stella Gibbons, and the early Margery Sharps, and so on. (Though Greyladies had already done Noel Streatfeild as Susan Scarlett.)
Confess I am waiting for the Big Publishing Rediscovery of EBC Jones. Would also not mind maybe some attention to Violet Hunt (unfortunately her life was perhaps so dramatic it has outshone her work? gosh the Wikipedia entry is a bit thin.)
ithPLAIDDER: Conn, welcome back to the studio. I’m sorry it’s a mess.
CONN: I can’t find anywhere in this universe to be that’s not a mess.
PLAIDDER: And we’re off! Well, Conn, there’s been a lot of water under the bridge since we last sat down together in…God, has it really been two months?
CONN: Only if you don’t count the flipped interview we did back a month ago…
PLAIDDER: Oh, right, back when I still had some bandwidth for J. K. Rowling and her traveling disaster. So, let’s talk current catastrophe. I don’t know how closely you’ve been following what’s going on in Portland.
CONN: I understand there’s an occupation in progress.
PLAIDDER: It’s funny, nobody’s actually using that term for it.
CONN: What else would you call it when you’re sending hostile forces into a city that didn’t ask for them and then terrorizing the local citizens in an attempt to get them to stop resisting the authority you represent?
PLAIDDER: Well you could call it an authoritarian crackdown, or a fascist power grab, or…I mean there are actually a lot of things you could call it but it’s curious to me that nobody’s reaching for that particular term.
CONN: Do you think it’s because they’re all from the same country? I mean usually it’s one country invading and occupying another country.
PLAIDDER: I suppose. Except that I think that what’s actually happened since 2016 is that it has become clear that the United States of America is two countries. There’s the country that Buttercup considers himself president of, and there’s the country that Buttercup considers the Enemy. It’s confusing, because the borders are very complicated. Like, a lot of Oregon is part of Buttercuplandia, but Portland, which is IN Oregon, is actually enemy territory.
CONN: And so now your president is trying to occupy enemy territory.
I don’t have the bandwidth to comment on what’s going on in LA right now; but it is worth remembering that Buttercoup has done this before: escalate a situation in order to justify his authoritarian crackdown. I see people making the connection to what happened in Lafayette Square, but the whole Portland thing seems to have been papered over. But it’s the same thing. A couple new observations:
The Trumplings want war powers. They have been very frustrated so far with the lack of war. Sending in the National Guard and the US military over Newsom’s objections is one of their many attempts to manufacture such a war. They were always going to respond with maximum force, regardless of what the protesters actually did. If you’re talking about protestor behavior right now you are playing the Trumplings’ game.
2. It’s worth remembering that the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan were catastrophes because the US military won the invasion and then lost the occupation. What the Trumplings want to do to Blue America–what they tried to do in Portland, what they appear to be trying to do in LA right now– is something that our military absolutely failed to do over a period of 20 years during which the Secretary of Defense was never Pete Hegseth. What they want to do is indeed horrifying. Whether they can do it is another question.
THE DYING DETECTIVE - part 3 - part 1 - part 2 - “to the last gasp he would always be the master” - there is at least one panel that made me laugh while drawing it so I hope it makes you laugh, too. It’s the least I could do.
This will most likely be the last update for a few weeks - going to England on a trip (where Sherlock Holmes lives!!! omg!) - when I return it will be for a cozy early Christmas special, THE BLUE CARBUNCLE.
Last week was the one where there was PANIC over whether I would have new supply of prescription drug; credit card issues including FRAUD; and also bizarre phonecall from the musculo-skeletal people about scheduling an appointment which suggested they hadn't looked at my record or are very very confused about what my next session is actually for.
HOWEVER
Though I began writing a review on Wednesday, did a paragraph, and felt totally blank about where it was going from there, I returned to it the following day and lo and behold wrote enough to be considered an actual review, though have been tinkering and polishing since then. But is essentially DONE.
And in the realm of reviewing have received 3 books for essay review, have another one published this month coming sometime, and today heard that my offer to review for Yet Another Venue has been accepted, where can they send the book?
While in other not quite past it news, for many years I was heavily involved in a rather niche archival survey, which is no longer being hosted in its previous useful if rather outdated form but as a spreadsheet (I would say no use to man nor beast but it does have some value I suppose). But there is talk of reviving and updating it (yay) and I have been invited to a meeting to discuss this. Fortunately I can attend virtually rather than at ungodly hour of morning in distant reaches of West London.
Also professional org of which I am A (jolly good?) Fellow is doing a survey and has invited me to attend a virtual Focus Group.
Oh yes, and it looks as though a nerdy letter about Rebecca West I wrote to the Literary Review is likely to get published.
Audra McDonald performs a piece from the Broadway show #Gypsy at the 2025 #TonyAwards
Yeah, we saw this last night and WOW. We’re seeing this production this summer abd we cannot wait.
Here is some context, behind a cut tag, for those who are not part of my family and maybe don’t know Gypsy! the show.
Gypsy is a musical by Jule Styne and Stephen Sondheim based on the memoirs of the title character, Gypsy Rose Lee, who became burlesque’s brightest star right around the time that burlesque and vaudeville were being killed by the movies. Most of the show is about how Louise Hovik, who has always been passed over by her mother Rose in favor of her prettier and blonder younger sister June, eventually becomes the star her mother desperately wanted June to be–but not the way Rose ever intended. Rose’s obsession with making her daughter a star destroys their family, which breaks up while vaudeville dies. Rose’s rock bottom is reached when she pushes Louise into stripping because it’s her last chance to achieve that dream. But Rose’s rock bottom turns out to be the beginning of great things for Louise, whose meteoric rise is documented in a montage that takes place right before this number.
Ok. So the song Audra McDonald is performing here–“Rose’s Turn”–comes right after a huge fight between Rose and Louise in her dressing room. Rose is still trying to control Louise, and Louise is trying very hard to keep her at arm’s length. “What did I do it all for?” asks the wounded Rose. “I thought you did it for me, Mama,” says Louise.
“Rose’s Turn” is Rose’s response. She sings it alone on stage, and it’s just a masterpiece. Imagining herself as the star that Louise has become, she’s completing the fusion with her daughters that has cause all of them so much misery; but she’s also coming as close as she will ever get to self awareness as she admits to herself that she *did* want all of this *for herself.* This is all wrapped up in this kind of terrifying Oedipal sexuality (“ready or not, boys, here comes Mama!”) and is also the culmination of something Sondheim has spent the whole show developing, which is the way female performers are always required to minister to the sexual desires of their audiences, whether as a child act in vaudeville or as a stripper in a burlesque show.
It’s a lot; and in a production of Gypsy that is working, this number burns the house down. Like Rose’s children, we both identify with Rose and fear her, and watching Rose finally “let it out” is both enthralling and terrifying.
I’ve seen Bernadette Peters do this number on Broadway; I’ve seen Alexandra Billings do it in a semi equity theater in Chicago, I’ve seen Rosalind Russell do it on film (many times), I’ve seen a lot of women of a certain age put their entire soul into it and I appreciate all of them. Audra McDonald’s performance is next fucking level. She really nails the whole coming-apart-while-finally-coming-together aspect of this number that is so hard to do. And anything that may, out of context, look over the top or like overacting, I promise you that in the context of the show as a whole, it is not.
Anyway. I’m really glad I’m going to get to see this show and also kind of mad she didn’t get the Tony. I guess I just want people to be able to appreciate that performance in context.
Rok continues to be the best at everything, and deserves all the hugs. Though I remain baffled how ST thinks they can on one hand have post-scarcity nearly everywhere (including, one presumes, in places just outside of the Federation where they can easily abscond with probable Federation citizens) and also have seedy underbellies everywhere as well. The problem is that they never actually worked out how it all works, and I think the only solution is to ditch the idea that even the Federation really has no currency and is totally post-scarcity. Everybody has their basic needs met, I'll agree is supported by the writing. Anything past that, no.
Anyway, Rok's friend in her tragic backstory was clearly no more able to leave that situation than she was and though I can see there's too much plot for that to happen in canon I really hope they could rescue him.
Speaking of tragic backstories, I cannot believe a. that Dal tried to say his was the worst and b. his version of being "the worst" absolutely skips past the part where ( Read more... ) But seriously, dude, you grew up as a slave on a mine full of child slaves. It's not a situation people get into because their life was just so great beforehand. If everything was hunky-dory, none of you would've been targeted in the first damn place. You all have a terrible backstory, you don't need to prove it!
Moving on, Murf continues to also be the best, but ffs, can somebody get him an AAC? Or a whiteboard, at least? Teach him sign language? This is a solved problem even in the real world, surely Starfleet can figure it out!
Nothing to say about Jankom, he's just there. *shrug* And I feel kinda ditto about Zero, tbh. I mean, I like them, but....
Ma'Jel, between her cool hair and her increasingly consternated expression as the turbolift got more and more crowded, is clearly not one of the most unemotional Vulcans out there. (I don't care what Vulcans say, the opposite of "logical" is not "emotional", it's just "illogical".) I feel like she and our darling T'Lyn would have a lot to talk about.
The adults on the ship - this show is clearly trying to walk a fine line between keeping them competent and allowing the kids to run circles around them. I'm not sure it always works, but I appreciate the effort, and also I appreciate how they were careful to make it clear that the adults, whether they're being strict or a bit Too Much, are only acting the way they do because they're sympathetic. (Frankly, all the kids could stand to appreciate their new situation a bit more - except Rok, she already gets it - but I understand why they're struggling a bit.)
2000: The theft of an Enigma Machine comes too late to play a significant role in World War Two, Sellafield highlight British dedication to nuclear saafety, and the Conservatives, informed polling has them 2% ahead of Labour, discover that they are actually trailing by 13%.
Bold for have read, italic for intend to read,, underline for never heard of it.
Which 2000 Clarke Award Finalists Have You Read? Distraction by Bruce Sterling A Deepness in the Sky by Vernor Vinge Cryptonomicon by Neal Stephenson Silver Screen by Justina Robson The Bones of Time by Kathleen Ann Goonan Time by Stephen Baxter
The moon (and traces of Northern Lights) over Bearskin (from Cabin 1)
Yesterday, as usual, we stopped at several sites along Highway 61. We had a late lunch at the “world famous” Betty’s Pie. I do not know if this pie is truly well-known throughout the world, but it was, as they say, damned good pie.
The three of us at Betty's Pies.
As has become typical of us, we stopped to do some agate hunting about a mile north of Two Harbors at Flood Bay. We had to backtrack from Betty’s, but we didn’t care. My family simply cannot be hurried once we’re in vacation mode. Once we’ve made it to Duluth (to-du-loot!) vacation mode has fully activated. “Oh? The thing we wanted to see was back there? Sure, let’s turn around!”
Me and Mason agate hunting at Floor Bay.
I’m not ever sure what an agate looks like when it’s not polished. Not that it matters to any of us. Shawn hands out plastic baggies and we find a nice spot and start hunting. On this trip, it was extra windy. It was already decently cold, maybe mid-50s F/ 10 C. We joked that the windchill made it below freezing! Shawn had to hike back to the car for extra layers.
But, we had a great time just relaxing and sifting through the rocks on the shores of the world’s largest freshwater lake. (And, as Mason loves to point out, a lake so cold that if you’re shipwrecked in it, you don’t rot!)
Mason beach combing
Next was a pitstop at Gooseberry Falls. Sometimes, like a lot of travelers this time of year, we only stop long enough to do our business and then push on. This time, however, Mason and I decided to make the short trek up to see both the high falls and the low falls. Shawn, meanwhile, saved her knee (which is mostly doing well, but technically still in recovery,) for the next beach and hung out in the gift shop looking for, among other things, sweatpants for Mason who—for reasons all his own—decided not to pack any pants for the trip. Only shorts!
Gooseberry Falls, in my opinion, is almost always worth the detour.
Image: Gooseberry Falls
I only remembered after we’d left that I forgot to get my State Park passport stamped! We decided, however, that we would stop in as many State Parks as we could on our route back. Mason and I are also planning a day trip out to Devil’s Kettle, so I have be sure to remember to bring it with me to that hike!
I had advocated for a stop at Iona’s Beach this year but changed my mind after experiencing the wind at Flood Bay. Maybe the weather will be more cooperative on the drive home. Instead, we decided to pull in at Silver Bay to get a gander at "Rocky Taconite."
Image: Rocky Taconite at Silver Bay.
Our last beach of the trip up to the cabin was Cutface Creek Pullout (14 miles north of Lutsen, mile marker 104.) This beach is famous for its thomsonite. Again, I have no idea what thomsonite looks like in the wild (although this might be the year I may have found a piece. I’m going to try polishing it up when we get back home), but this beach generally has cool rocks because it has a ton of mini geodes. Again, we dawdled. I have no idea how long we spent combing the beaches and listening to the waves. This beach was less windy; it was much more of a natural windbreak/cove.
We managed to miss official check-in at Bearskin (6 pm), which we often do (even leaving the Twin Cities at 9 am), and so followed the instructions to get the cabin key for check-in the next morning. It was still light enough out that Mason and I made the walk up to the Lodge to pick up the aluminum canoe that they on the beach for us out for us. We paddled it to our dock, bungied it up to our private dock for the night, and then settled in for a dinner of brats on the grill.
I fully failed to make a decent fire our first night, but luckily both Shawn and Mason are better skilled at this than I am.
This morning (Sunday) we woke up to rain.
Shawn and I walked down to the Lodge to check in. Because of all of the forest fires that are active in Minnesota right now, the Forest Service has been doing a lot of clearing of what they call “ladder trees,” but also underbrush. The place looks… a little devestated. At least in comparison to what we’re used to. I have been excited to resume my hiking of the ski trails this year and so I wanted to be sure to ask the staff about good trails for less… husbandry, we’ll say. They nicely pointed out where on the map they thought the Forestry Service hadn’t gotten to yet. So, after a quick jog back to Cabin 1 to make sure I had my inhaler, I headed off. I’d intended to slowly get my “sea legs” back, but I missed a turn off and hiked all the way to Rudy Lake.
Image: a pristine lake (Rudy Lake) in the middle of nowhere.
Oops.
It is cool, however. Like, this is a lake you simply can not get to without walking to it. There are no roads to get you here.
However, I am a little sore and may have overdone it already on day one. Hopefully, with a bit of rest and Aleve, I’ll be back at it in no time.
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![[desperately] Maybe this is from some country where they use commas as decimal points, and also as digit separators after the decimal, and also use random other characters for decoration???](https://imgs.xkcd.com/comics/reading_a_big_number.png "[desperately] Maybe this is from some country where they use commas as decimal points, and also as digit separators after the decimal, and also use random other characters for decoration???")
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