Sharon – Page 247 – Sharon Lee, Writer

The moonlight it was dancing on the waves, out on the sea

All righty, then.

This is a post about magic.

As some of you may know, I have long, on-going (unrequited) love affair with the Maine resort town Old Orchard Beach. So great was my love that, against the advice of Practically Everybody, I wrote three books (Carousel Tides, Carousel Sun, Carousel Seas) set in a just-slightly-different Maine resort town — Archers Beach. The major differences between the two towns, besides some liberties taken with the coastal geography, and a very little smudging along the edges of history — one of the differences is that, in Archers Beach, magic works.

Sort of.

Sometimes.

For some people.

And for others, who may not be, precisely, people.

The other difference is that, in Archers Beach, things are starting to turn around for the town, as the residents find renewed hope, and the energy to take up their destiny.

In Old Orchard Beach, over the years of our relationship, hope had been lost, and the residents had stopped believing in destiny. I say this with love, and also with the understanding that love does not blind us to the loved one’s faults.

An example. . .One of the centerpieces of the Carousel books is — surprise! — a carousel. An old, hand-carved wooden carousel populated, granted, by some Very Odd animals, but, yes a carousel. A carousel, in fact, that had been modeled (in the author’s head) on the P(hiladelphia) T(obaggon) C(ompany) (#19, I do believe) that had been in place the very first time Steve and I visited Old Orchard Beach, many years ago.

The machine was in need of some upkeep, but old wooden carousels are expensive to keep up, and the sea air is kind to no machinery built by man. But, it was running, the band organ was playing, and — oh, it was grand.

The next time Steve and I got down to Old Orchard Beach, maybe a decade after that first visit (stone broke, no gas money, you know the drill), we found a changed scene. The PTC machine was gone, and in its place was a fiberglass carousel, not as old, obviously, and. . . not very well kept. You could see the poles shudder when the flying animals went up and down; you could hear the cranks grate. Worse, oh, far worse! The band organ, which had been ragged, but working, had been left too long unprotected in the seaside environment. It was mildewed, it was cracked, it was peeling. . .it was. . .heartbreaking.

Now, the carousel in Old Orchard Beach — the Chance Menagerie Carousel, is its name — is part of an amusement park. And, well. . .let’s just say that, as went the carousel, so went the amusement park. It was a sad, sad place, the last time I had been there at length, in 2012. It needed — oh, paint! and maintenance, and. . .hope.

Now. . .back in 2010, right around Halloween, Jeanne Bartolomeo, who at that time owned an art gallery in Old Orchard Beach called Beggars Ride, kindly put together a launch party in the gallery, for Carousel Tides. One of the surprising number of people who attended that party came up to me, excited by the town and the book, which she had already read as an ebook, and said, “I want to see it!”

“See what?” I asked her.

“The carousel! I’ve already been to Bob’s and the Pier, Tony Lee’s and I have to see the carousel!”

Oh. I cleared my throat.

“I’m so very sorry,” I said. “You can’t see it. It’s. . .not there.”

She stared at me, and I could see the betrayal creep into her eyes.

“You made it up?” she demanded, and I could see that she was hoping that I’d deny it, but. . .

“Yes,” I admitted. “I did. I made it up.”

In the same way, I made up the. . .revival of Archers Beach.

Or. . .not.

See, this year, Steve and I are doing a weird little split vacation at the ocean. He and I were down at Old Orchard Beach together Thursday afternoon and evening; I came home to be with the cats, and Steve is doing a bachelor weekend at the ocean. Monday, we’ll swap places; he’ll come down on Thursday, and Friday we’ll shift all of us back home. The reason Thursday is important in this is that there are fireworks on the beach every Thursday night during Season, courtesy of the amusement park.

So, anyway, we went to see the fireworks Thursday night, and after that, we wandered ’round the corner to look at the carousel. . .

. . .which has been completely revamped. The panels were new; the rounding boards were new; the mirrors shone! The sweeps were lit, and not only that! The lifting poles no longer shuddered; the cranks moved with quiet authority, and!

The band organ.

The band organ had been. . .restored.

And it was playing music.

I burst into tears. Honest to ghod. It was. . .it was magic. See for yourself.

Before:

After:

Carousel Before:

Carousel After:

We walked through the whole park, and we noticed new paint, and bright new lights, and a feeling of hope amid the crowd.

When we came to the arcade, I said to Steve, “I want to visit Grandma.” I always visit Grandma when I’m in Old Orchard Beach. If I have a quarter, I’ll pay her to read my fortune.

Now, since Forever, Grandma has been shoved in a dark corner next to a service door in the arcade. I walked right to the place, only to discover that!

She was gone.

I turned around, found Steve some distance behind, shaking his head and pointing.

They’d moved Grandma out into the main corridor. They’d cleaned off her case, and they’d fixed the light. Someone had. I saw this because there seems to be an. . .addition to Grandma’s bracelet. A charm with names on them. Steve and I are in disagreement. I say the charm is new; a marker from the people who paid for her restoration. Steve says there was always a charm. I don’t have a picture after, but here she is, last time I saw her:

And so that’s it.

Who says there’s no magic, any more?

Today’s blog post title brought to you by Loreena McKennit, “Beneath A Phrygian Sky”. Here’s your link.

Books read in 2015

31. Maisie Dobbs, Jacqueline Winspear
30. Trick or Treat, Kerry Greenwood (e)
29. The Golden Hawk, Frank Yerby (reread; six pages fell out at various spots during this reading; it was reread many times, when I was 14)
28. The Wave in the Mind, Ursula K. Le Guin
27. The Boy from the Burren, Sheila Gilluly (e)
26. Dead Heat, Patricia Briggs (e)
25. Girl Genius: The Beast of the Rails, Kaja and Phil Foglio
24. A Bollywood Affair, Sonali Dev
23. Who Buries the Dead, C.S. Harris
22. Killer Instinct, Zoe Sharpe (e)
21. Devil’s Food, Kerry Greenwood (e)
20. The Making of a Marchioness, Frances Hodgson Burnett (e)
19. A Little Princess, Frances Hodgson Burnett (e)
18. Geekomancy, Michael R. Underwood (e)
17. The Perfect Rake, Anne Gracie
16. The Martian, Andy Weir
15. Blaze of Memory, Nalini Singh
14. Tracker, C.J. Cherryh (read out loud with Steve)
13. Chanur’s Legacy, C.J. Cherryh (re-read, read out loud with Steve)
12. Chanur’s Homecoming, C.J. Cherryh (re-read, read out loud with Steve)
11. The Kif Strike Back, C.J. Cherryh (re-read, read out loud with Steve)
10. Why Kings Confess, C.S. Harris
9. Chanur’s Venture, C.J. Cherryh (re-read, read out loud with Steve) (Note: the publisher’s note at the end of the book states that the next-in-series is Chanur’s Revenge. This is false. The next-in-series is The Kif Strike Back.)
8. Angels’ Blood, Nalini Singh (read out loud with Steve)
7. The Pride of Chanur, C.J. Cherryh (re-read, read out loud with Steve)
6. What Darkness Brings, C.S. Harris
5. When Maidens Mourn, C.S. Harris
4. Where Shadows Dance, C.S. Harris
3. What Remains of Heaven, C.S. Harris
2. Where Serpents Sleep, C.S. Harris
1. When Gods Die, C.S. Harris

Don’t be afraid; it’s only Johnny Dhu

I shall sum up.

1. Liaden Universe® Constellation, Volume 3 (in paper) is temporarily out of stock. There are still books in the distribution stream, though Amazon is presently only offering it for sale through third-party vendors, and Baen has said that they will be reprinting. In the meantime, if you need a book now, remember those third party vendors — especially Uncle Hugo’s, where there are still at least a dozen signed copies available. Here’s your link.

2. On Monday, we put out a call for help in spreading the word regarding our effort to increase the monthly pledge level at our Patreon account to $2,000, so that we can get a generator in here before winter falls on our heads. At this moment, we have $2,004.50 in monthly pledges. You guys. . .You’re just awesome.

3. Pursuant to #2, above, we yesterday had Mike the Master Electrician in to scope out the place and make recommendations for generators. This is going to be complicated, involving site prep, a visit from Central Maine Power, from the propane company, and Mike himself. Still, barring a stupidly early winter, we ought to be able to get this thing done in good time.

4. We are into Week Two of the Do It Like a Delm Challenge — you may view the current entries here. Remember! Each week’s winner will be awarded a coupon good for a free Baen ebook of their choice. Plus, yanno, we’d really like to see what y’all are up to. Here are the contest rules.

5. Trying to get your friends and acquaintances “hooked” on the Liaden Universe®? Of course, you are! Remember that Agent of Change (the Very First Liaden book ever written) and Fledging (the book that starts the Theo arc) are free! from Amazon and from the Baen Free Library.

6. Belle and Trooper have been helping me write:

Today’s blog title brought to you by Gaelic Storm, “Beggerman.” Here’s your link.

If it’s Monday, it must be a new week

Week Two of the Do It Like a Delm Challenge has commenced, with two entries right out of the gate.

Here’s your link to this week’s Gallery of Delms.

Here’s your link to last week’s Gallery.

And, of course, last week’s winning photo by Jennifer McGaffey.

In other news, we have revamped our Patreon page, with a goal. You can see the new page here.

Now, I want to say a few things about this: First, we are amazed by and appreciate the fact that so many people leapt up to pledge when we began this experiment, in April. This is not a demand that everyone dig deeper for another few pennies throw into the plate. Indeed, it’s not a demand at all; it’s an opportunity to assist, if you are so inclined, and are able.

What I would like to ask, though, is that you share this news with other people who might be inclined to become patrons. I’m asking this because there seems to be no very good mechanism for people to find artists to fund from within the Patreon system. So we’re looking for some outside help in getting the word out.

Also, if any Patreon veterans could point me to an internal networking system were potential patrons and artists can discover each other, that would be wonderful.

Thanks very much, for all you do.

I’m just back in from a run to town, whereupon I learned two things: (1) Bangs trims at JC Penney is free; (2) There is not a gallon of white vinegar to be found in this town. I’m guessing this a result of people canning the yield from their gardens, but geez, all the vinegar?

For those playing along at home — a report on the hair color. It’s still purple. I’ve washed it three times, and it fades a little each time, but it has not entirely washed out. This is evidently the effect of layering in the color across multiple days. I’m still pleased that it’s purple, and will add more color the next time I shampoo.

And that?

Is all I got.

Oh, no, wait. I have a picture of Scrabble in the sun:

We have a winner!

The winner for the Do It Like A Delm Week One Challenge is!

Jennifer McGaffey, with a little help from Lt. Colonel Anderson.

You can see the winning picture here.

Congratulations to the winner — and a big thank you! to everyone who took the time to play.

Tomorrow, Monday, August 24, starts the next challenge week. Get your Liaden gear and your sense of adventure together!

Gallery of Week One challengers here.

Challenge rules here.

In which every cat’s an editor

When I make notes for a short story, I pretty often write them by hand, with a gel pen, on one of those cheap 8.5×11 inch so-called “legal pads” with the rough paper that takes the ink well.

Belle, as per Maine Coon Standard, has tufts of fur between her toes. She likes to paddle around in the cat water fountain with her big, hairy feet, and then jump onto my desk and wander over my papers before curling up for a nap.

These two factoids are related. And not in a Good Way.

*peers at smeared ink*

*peers at page beneath note page, also smeared with ink*

Sigh.

I guess it’s just as well that the story flipped, anyway.

So! I haven’t talked about my health here in quite awhile, you lucky people, you, but I did want to note that the new, higher dose of levothyroxine — that being the Whole Gig dose — is working a treat. I haven’t felt this well in. . .years, really. The random fall-asleep hasn’t happened for weeks, and I can actually get up in the morning when the alarm rings (though I often chose not to do so, because there is such a thing as taking it too far), and function, and my brain seems to be ticking right along (which, right enough, may be a mixed blessing for some, but I’m calling a positive from my side).

After Labor Day, there’s a follow-up visit with the vampyres, to quantify this, and I very much hope that the switch back to synthroid (mandated by the insurance company) doesn’t mess with success, but I am, at this point, very optimistic.

So, yanno: Yay!

New entries have been posted in the Do It Like A Delm Challenge. Here’s your link. Remember! This week’s entry deadline is tonight, Saturday, at Midnight EDT. Sunday we will announce the Winner of the Week, and Monday?

Monday we’ll start a new challenge round.

Today’s chores are almost done; I’ve got the grates and drip-pans soaking, but the rest of the dishes and the vacuuming are finished. Which means? The deck is cleared for working on that story this afternoon and evening.

Note to self: Research waterproof gel ink.

Hope everybody’s having a good weekend, wherever you are.

Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto

Well, let’s see. This morning started early when Trooper leapt from the floor directly onto my hip, instead of the bed. Eighteen pounds of Maine Coon gravity-assisted landing on a single point meant I jolted straight up in bed, Sprite, who had been asleep on my stomach, was catipulted off the bed and thence charged down the hall like all the demons of heck were on her trail. Trooper did the patented all-four-feet-together jump, twisted in mid-air and fled in her wake — and Belle watched the whole thing from the peace and tranquility of the headboard bookshelf, while Steve woke up, and demanded, crankily, “NOW what?”

I explained, got up and limped down the hall, returned to the bed, and so to sleep. Steve did not return to sleep, which is covered in the Spousal Equity Clause, Subsection 1C (i.e. “The party which needs sleep most will get it least”), and rose some minutes later, attended by Belle.

In the meantime, Trooper has become convinced that the Bed is Haunted, and tiptoes into the bedroom, craning his neck to see if The Giant Scary Thing is visible from the floor. I picked him up and put him on the bed, and he reprised the all-four-feet-together jump and ran down the hall to take shelter under the kitchen table, Neutral Territory for many generations of felines.

After coffee and breakfast, I did the business email thing, then updated the Do It Like A Delm gallery for this week, with two new photos, bringing us to eight entries from seven bold entrants. We’re hoping to see even more before this week’s Challenge closes.

To view the photo gallery of aspiring delms, follow this link.

After business was taken care of, I spent much of the rest of the morning getting to know my new phone, and doing the laundry. I have determined that MotoVoice can actually hear and mostly comprehend me — which may be a first for voice recognition systems. There are still a few glitches to be worked out. For instance, I can tell MotoVoice to turn music ON, but I don’t seem to be able to tell it to turn music OFF, which sort of limits its usefulness for situations in which I’m piloting myself. But, still, there may be a way. I’ve also been testing the phone’s camera, which is awesome; and the screen’s resolution — ‘way sharp enough for my old eyes to read a book — and trying to get some idea of how long the battery will last really. So far, looking like 30 hours of mixed heavy use, and standby. Which I’m not going to argue with, at all.

Having now consumed the afternoon meal, with the phone in need of a recharge, the laundry almost done, and all the cats napping — I guess I’d better get to work.

Here’s a picture taken with the new phone:

Oh, and a snippet, just for fun, from the Outtake File:

“Will I,” she asked, her voice sharper than she had intended, “ever be safe again?”

He inclined his head formally, as Jen Sar would do when an important point had been made.

“Scholar, I cannot say. However, it is an object with me, that those who are innocent of my errors will, one day, be safe again.”

Today’s blog post brought to you by Styx, “Mr. Roboto.” Here’s your link.

Tuesday Morning News

1. The Kickstarter Campaign for the Alien Artifacts and Were- anthologies has been funded! We’re now into the stretch goals, and there’s some really cool stuff on offer, including that raise I was telling y’all about a couple days ago — totally worth checking out. Here’s your link.

2. Today! is the release day of James A. Burton’s Dominions, sequel to 2012’s Powers. You may — and should! — download sample chapters here. After which, you will want to download the entire novel, which is only natural and good.

3. We have our first international! entry! in the Do It Like A Delm Challenge. Here’s your link to the entries received so far. And! It’s not too late to send in your own entry.

4. Here, have a picture of Belle and Scrabble:

Follow up to yesterday’s conversation

This has gotten too long and complex for a Facebook post, so I’m bringing the discussion over here where it can be seen.

The Question, posed by Gareth Griffiths is:
Has anyone figured out the readership ratio for SF? I’ve commented on the writer side before – probably 60:40 on my shelves in favour of women but I wonder if there may be a hidden bias that more men prefer books written by men regardless of genre. There may be a unconscious reinforcement of society where there is still a lot of male bias in many places that gets reflected in books by men that other men unconsciously find more natural and attractive.
Is there a correlation between readership and authors’ sex.

My response:
Let me see if I can remember this correctly. . .

I’ve been on a couple panels about this (Toni Weisskopf was in the audience for at least one, and might be able to help me out, if she’s not on a plane by now), which is that, since the inception of female editors (who naturally buy books that appeal to them as females (because what other criterion does an editor have available to them, save their gender?)) and stories featuring female protagonists (this being a different thing, note, than female writers, and also whacks the men who are writing female leads), Boys Have Stopped Reading. That’s reading anything — because there are Girl Cooties everywhere and there are no role models in fiction for boys anymore.

Now, this thesis bothers me profoundly. Reading is one of the great joys of my life, and I don’t want to be the reason that this joy is somehow withheld from anyone else. Jeebus, what a terrible, terrible thing, to be stuck in a world where there was nothing for me to read.

In fact, as we’ve said many times in many different venues, the reason that Steve and I decided to write the sort of science fiction that we do was to open the genre, and make it easier and more enjoyable for girls to play, too.

Note, “easier, and more enjoyable.” I read male POV scifi forever, growing up, because, mostly, that’s what there was. And I kept reading it, despite the proliferation of Boy Cooties, because I was fascinated by the form, by the so-called sensawonda, occasionally the protagonists, but, let’s face it, characterization was Pretty Basic, back in the day. You wanted mysteries, for characterization, and romances, for heart — and I read those, too.

I’m told girls are more empathic than boys — that’s part of our job, see? — and there were a lot of girls in my position, who loved scifi, and science — the children of the Moon Walk, that’s us, and Science Can Do Anything — and who also wanted to buckle some swash and bend some time their own selves.

And some of those girls, when they grew up? They became writers. And some of them became science fiction writers; and they naturally enough wrote what they wanted to read. To be fair, I don’t think that a one of us thought we’d be excluding any readers; we thought, if we thought about it at all, that we would be expanding the field and including more readers.

The idea that we’re somehow excluding male readers simply by existing. . .is starting, frankly, to bother me less, the more I read comments in discussions about how girls can’t write SF, Epic Fantasy, Thrillers, Pick Your Favorite Genre. But, I still find it in me to feel sorry for those little boys, who somehow can’t make a connection with a female protagonist, and I wonder why is that?

Are men that much less empathic, naturally, that they can’t relate to a character of a different gender? Is not honor, honor, no matter the gender of the hero? Does adventure and derring-do not speed the heart, despite the gender of the hero? Are there not, in fact, more similarities than differences between bold, honorable, and great-hearted persons?

So — how do we fix this, for those readers of all genders who are coming up? How do we not exclude readers, while expanding the field? Clearly trying to shout people down on the internet is not working. Is there anything else?

Some will rob you with a six-gun, and some with a fountain pen

So! The pictures are rolling in for the Do It Like A Delm Challenge. You can see the first gold contestants at this link.

Wanna play? Here’s the link to the rules. Steve and I look forward to your entry — and remember! Every week, one lucky entrant will win a coupon from Baen, for a free ebook of the winner’s choice.

* * *

For those who haven’t seen it, Judith Tarr did a guest post on Charlie Stross’ blog regarding the [insert tongue in cheek] lack of women writers in the genre of science fiction [remove tongue from cheek, save for later use]. Here’s the link.

Now, honestly, when I saw the topic, I thought something along the lines of Oh, please, there cannot be a single person connected to the internets who doesn’t now know that women write SF. Why are we having this discussion, again? But, you know what? The commenters pretty much prove that this is a discussion we still need to have. My favorite comments are the ones stating that the female experience, while interesting, really has nothing to do with them* (because they know no women?); and the ones that state categorically that any book with a woman’s name on the cover is, ipso facto, a feminist rant, and therefore of no interest to the reader.

So now my question is — How do you inhabit a universe wherein there are No Women Writing Science Fiction? Do you never visit a bookstore? Do you instruct your bookseller to put a monthly bundle of books together for you that only have masculine names on the cover — and no initials, either! Sneaky things, initials; you never know who’s behind lurking behind initials.

I can’t even.

Mind you, this is not my fight — I’m invisible to the no-women side, and to the all-men-all-the-time side, because I have a male co-author (worse! I have a husband co-author, of many, many years standing.). The worst hassle I’ve gotten was the guy who thought it was “nice” that my husband let me put my name on his books. Steve’s worst, I think, was the guy who chastised him for not asserting his rights as The Man in the partnership and allowing his wife to drip Romance all over what ought to be SciFi books.

But, still, I wonder, how the hell you find, and continue to live in, this particular cocoon. Women have been writing science fiction since before there was science fiction. And it seems the more that proposition is put forward, the more — rather than the less — resistance it generates.

I used to be a fan of the internet; I used to think the internet would foster understanding between diverse peoples and viewpoints.

Yeah. . .too naive to live.

Today’s blog post comes to you from Woody Guthrie by way of Ramblin’ Jack Elliott, “Pretty Boy Floyd.” Here’s your link.

_____________

*Mind you, I read SF books from the male viewpoint for years, and years, and years, and years. I credit this circumstance with teaching me how to write believable alien characters. So, yanno, it can be a good thing to read about an experience that’s different from your own.