life after the apocalypse – Page 3

Double Vision available to download

Double Vision, including twenty-nine early works by Sharon Lee and Steve Miller, was originally published as a trade paperback in 2009 by SRM Publisher, Ltd. This is its first electronic edition.

Titles included are: Ginger and the Bully of Lowergate Court, Sharon Lee; The Cat’s Job, Steve Miller; A Matter of Ceremony, Sharon Lee; Coffee Cat, Sharon Lee; The Big Ice, Sharon Lee; Rain Day, Steve Miller; Master of The Winds, Sharon Lee; The Pretender, Sharon Lee; The Silver Pathway, Sharon Lee; The Year They Brought The Bears to Belfast, Sharon Lee; The Naming of Kinzel, Sharon Lee and Steve Miller; Kinzel The Innocent, Sharon Lee and Steve Miller; Kinzel The Arbiter, Sharon Lee and Steve Miller; And Hawks for Heralds, Steve Miller; Charioteer, Steve Miller; Stormshelter, Sharon Lee; The Solution, Steve Miller; The Girl, the Cat, and Deviant, Sharon Lee; The Afterimage, Sharon Lee; Master Walk, Sharon Lee and Steve Miller; Choices, Steve Miller; Cards, Sharon Lee; The Handsome Prince, Sharon Lee; Stolen Laughter, Sharon Lee; The Winter Consort, Sharon Lee; The Inventoried, Steve Miller; Gonna Boogie With Granny Time, Sharon Lee; Passionato, Sharon Lee; Candlelight, Sharon Lee and Steve Miller.

Double Vision is available from your favorite online bookstores. There will not be a paper copy. Links below provided as a courtesy.

Baen Books link

Amazon US link

Universal link

We interrupt this writing blog for a Very Important Announcement

We here at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory have taken a very serious step, and decided to fill the fourth slot left empty by Belle’s crossing of the Bridge, last August.

Steve and I had been discussing this step before he passed on, and I shelved it in favor of getting through the next five minutes.

Recently, the matter came up again at a board meeting, and the reasons identified in February still held. Trooper and Sprite are Elders; Firefly needs somebody to share her energy with.

We have therefore contracted to receive a Maine Coon kitten, photo below. He will be coming aboard in July, and we’re all very excited. Or at least I’m very excited. The other cats are of the opinion that this “kitten” I keep talking to them about is a Plot Point in the WIPnovel.

The kitten’s name is Rook, and already there’s a Story about him.

As I was considering the issue of a name, I thought how unfair it is that black cats are so often named for their color. I decided that I didn’t want to do that; I wanted a good, strong name that reflected sophistication and style. I mulled names for quite some time until (Steve) suggested Rook. For those who don’t know, a rook is a powerful and flexible chess piece, and of course Steve had been a chess player all his life.

Rook.

I liked it.

More, I liked that it came with the nickname “Rookie,” which he certainly will be.

So, there I was, armed with a name of something that could be either black or white, chosen for its inherent virtue. Very proud of myself, was I.

I remained proud of myself right up until my talk with the breeder this afternoon, where I shared with her my choice of name.

She immediately said, “Oh! I like that! I know what a rook is — it’s an English crow!” — and I realized that I had been foiled.

Regardless, Rook he shall remain, and I hope to add many Stories to this, his first.

First Sunday Check-In

In the US, this is Memorial Day Weekend. For those of us who are freelancers and still hold to the Old Ways of keeping track of days by mail delivery, this is the first Sunday (no mail day) of the week, the second being tomorrow, aka Memorial Day (celebrated).

It has been a week of Parts, some of which I am not yet at liberty to share.

I can, however, talk about yesterday, which was a perfect Maine edge-of-summer day, when I went to Snow Pond Arts Center in Sidney to the Art/Makers Fair. By myself. It was a nice show, with a good cross-section of Maine artists — stained glass, handmade jewelry, pottery, photographs, art prints, designer clothes, cat toys (yes, I bought toys for the cats; that’s in the contract), tie-dye, live music . . . spread across three or four lodges on really beautiful camp grounds.

As I was walking from one lodge to another, having recently departed a conversation with a silversmith, it came to me, as a bolt from the blue (or indeed, as something Steve might suggest), that the silversmith might be able to resize Steve’s wedding ring, so that I could wear it.

Now, I have to pause here and explain that my relationship with Steve is rooted in magic; our first letters to each other talk about how Instant Recognition such as we experienced never happens; that as grown-ups we knew this, and so it was with eyes open that we were going forward — trusting magic.

So, I turned around and went back to the silversmith and asked her if she could resize a ring for me. She allowed as how she could, so I went home, got the ring and went back. The silversmith thinks she’ll have it ready for me next week.

I had a few errands to dispatch, afterward, in Augusta. I thought I might actually eat out, but courage failed, so I came home and made myself a hot tuna and cheese sandwich in celebration (no really; hot tuna and cheese is a treat), noodled around the house some, putting things away and talking with the coon cats, and went to bed early, worn out by all the excitement.

Speaking of excitement — see what I did there?

Yes, excitement.

On June 1 — that’s Saturday! — Double Vision drops. It is an ebook-only edition, for Reasons. On June 1, it will be available from All of the Usual Suspects (including Baen). If you’re so minded, you may right now preorder from Most of the Usual Suspects (not including Baen).

As if that wasn’t enough excitement — The Uncle is, even as I type, shipping signed copies of Ribbon Dance to those who ordered. If you want a signed copy, there are still some left, and you can order from the Uncle here.

The Official Release Day for Ribbon Dance is Tuesday, June 4, when hardcover and ebook will be available from All of the Usual Suspects. You may preorder now from Most of Them.

A word regarding the Ribbon Dance audiobook. Audible has chosen not to acquire the audio rights (no, I don’t know why; I expect because previous books haven’t made them enough money; that’s usually the reason for these things). Baen is trying to place it with another audiobook publisher, but as of Right Now, there is NO Ribbon Dance audiobook on your horizon. I know some people will be disappointed by this. Trust me, I join you in your disappointment with a nice side helping of terror.

. . . and I think that catches us all up on the Important Things in Life.

Oh, no, I’m wrong. Have a picture of Trooper, who has helping me write.

From the mail bag

So! Yesterday was quite a banner day for Liaden Universe® appreciations.

There was Ryk Spoor’s guest column, here.

And there was also a column on Giant Freaking Robot, by Joshua Tyler, here.

Both are largely positive takes on the universe, and I encourage you to read them and share them, perhaps, with your friends who have yet to discover All Things Liaden.

Despite being largely positive, Mr. Tyler’s piece contains a sentence which has . . . horrified, concerned, and angered some Liaden readers and fans, and thus I find letters in my mailbox. This blog post is a blanket reply to those letters, and statements of concern.

Mr. Tyler states: “Sadly, Liaden co-author Steve Miller died suddenly on February 20, 2024. He was 73. It’s unclear if Sharon will continue writing the series without him. As a fan of the series, I hope not.” (bolding is mine)

Now, whether this is opinion or corrigendum, I can’t tell you. I am not the author of the piece. In general, it’s wise to assume that what the author wrote is what the author meant, and Mr. Tyler is, as we all are, entitled to his opinion.

What I can say is this: There are three Liaden Universe® novels now under contract with Baen Books. I am currently lead on one of those, the sequel to Ribbon Dance. In addition, before Steve’s death and the attendant dis- and re-organizations engendered by that cataclysm, I was making notes for the sequel to the sequel. Steve was lead on Trade Lanes, which had become increasingly difficult for him as his heart slowly failed him. I may or may not be able, eventually, to finish Trade Lanes. If not, another Liaden book will fill the third slot.

So, for the moment, Mr. Tyler must reside in disappointment. Sharon will be continuing the series, but, not, as he supposes, “without” Steve.

The fact is that there would be no Liaden Universe® as we’ve all come to know it, without Steve’s input, genius, and wit. He’s as much of the warp and weft of the Universe as the Tree, the Dragon, and the stars.

Summing up, and realizing that there are no guarantees, it is my intention to continue to write Liaden books and Liaden stories. New titles will be published as by Sharon Lee and Steve Miller, because that will be nothing more nor less than the truth.

Saturday check-in

So, it was a busy week here in Central Maine.

On Monday, I went to my first ever book club meeting. There are three of us, and all — including the leader — book club virgins. We’re reading Comfort is an Old Barn a collection of columns by local reporter/columnist Amy Calder. I worked with Amy many years ago now at the Morning Sentinel. Steve and I went to her book talk at the Waterville Library back in December, and bought her book, but I hadn’t yet dipped into it, so this was a good opportunity. Our group of three is relaxed enough to agree that we’ll make it up as we go along, and our next meeting is set for Monday after next.

Also on Monday, I opened up Steve’s file for Double Vision, which he had been reformatting for ebook publication just before he died. It was very close to complete, so I finished up the little bit that remained, compiled the file and downloaded it to my tablet for a quality check.

Tuesday morning was a session with the grief counselor, which more or less puts a period to Tuesdays. I spent the day getting Steve’s papers into traveling boxes, and getting Double Vision uploaded to various distributors. It is now available for pre-order from the vendor of your choice. It will be available for immediate download on June 1 from those vendors, and also from the Baen site.

Wednesday, I filled some more boxes with Steve’s papers, running out of papers at the same time I ran out of boxes. I love it when a plan comes together.

On Wednesday, it was Revealed that I need a new roof, which was . . . not particularly pleasant news.

Wednesday also saw the Grand Arrival of 200 copies of Ribbon Dance, to be signed and sent on to Uncle Hugo’s SF Bookstore in Minneapolis. If you would like a signed copy, you may reserve one here.

I finished signing the books and resealing the boxes Thursday night, and UPS will be picking them up on Monday.

As an aside — signing those books obviously wasn’t the hardest thing I’d ever had to do, but it was . . . not easy. The arrival of books to sign used to be reason for a party for Steve and me. This time — not so much. No promises one way or another, but this may be the last time I do this. Not only because of the heartbreak angle, but — tossing around 30 pound boxes of books isn’t getting any easier. I’m 71, after all, and getting old sucks.

Where was I? Ah –Thursday. Thursday, I called the insurance company in re the necessity of replacing the roof. An adjuster will be with me on Monday. In the meantime, I have an estimate for replacement, which is — yeah. It’s a big roof.

On Friday, I affixed labels to boxes of books and also to boxes containing Steve’s papers, then I spent the rest of the day with the WIPnovel, on which I am behind because — well. Oh, and the curtain rod across the window in Steve’s hallway finally failed, dumping the curtains onto the floor, but doing no more serious damage. I have a tension rod on order, which is supposed to arrive tomorrow, and I hope to get the window decently covered then.

Friday night, I posted Ryk Spoor’s Guest Column on the Liaden Universe and Ribbon Dance here.

Today, I have a couple things to do, including updating this blog, but I intend to spend most of the day with the WIP — and tomorrow, too. I am also waiting for FedEx Ground to stop by and take on Steve’s papers, the first part of their journey to the Cushing Memorial Library, in Texas.

And that catches us all the way up.

Below we see the Crack Box Inspection Team of Trooper and Firefly, inspecting boxes.

Saturday check-in

So, in-between remembering to promote our work, and taking care of the cats, and writing less than I would like but more than one colleague has assured me is possible, I’ve been putting Steve’s papers into boxes for eventual shipment to the archive at Texas A&M.

This means that I’ve been reading old letters, and poetry, and notes about what’s for supper; submission letters and rejections. And there’s this whole long … thread, let’s call it, around a story called “The One About Dancing,” which I remember in concept, but not in any detail. It seems that it started as a Notion that Steve had that stalled. I then had Notion and it got kickstarted, and we tried to sell the hell outta that story. We sent it to Amazing, we sent it to Owlflight, then at last to Spectrum SF.

Paul ____ at Spectrum . . . wasn’t particularly encouraging. He wanted extensive edits, which Steve was game to take on. My name was on the story for a while, as co-author, but I removed it after Steve starting working with Paul on revisions. He was doing the bulk of the work there, because I probably had a day-job, and I didn’t feel that I was contributing enough to the emerging work to be listed as a coauthor.

So, anyway, Paul finally declared the revised Tanj (the name of the main character was Jobber Tanj, and we referred to the story as “Tanj”), and I quote “Wow!” His last letter is about the concept art, and a request for a follow-up Tanj story.

Then . . . nothing.

I assume Spectrum went out of business. I don’t remember, honestly. Nineteen-eighty-two was a long time ago. I did a quick ‘n dirty websearch, and can’t find any info. It’s as if it never existed, except that I Have This File.

Aside the Mystery of the Disappearing Market, what struck me about the Tanj thread is how . . . friendly and helpful the editors — Elinor, Millea, Paul — were. Even the rejection letters for other stories were cordial and tried to pinpoint what didn’t work. Even given that sometimes what didn’t work was what we considered to be the Point of the story, that was . . . extraordinarily generous.

So, there’s that.

In other news, it looks as if Maine has entered True Spring, with the daytime highs regularly hitting the high 50s/low 60s (F) and the nighttime lows staying above freezing.

A couple of folks have asked if I’ll be at BaltiCon, and the answer, sadly, is no. I really don’t expect to be attending any cons for the foreseeable. I miss you all, but — no. Or at the very least — not yet.

And I think that more-or-less catches us all up.

Oh, wait. Here’s a picture of Firefly in her space capsule, which conveyed her to her annual wellness appointment with the vet yesterday. She was declared to be both gorgeous and healthy.

Smol Updatery

The WIPnovel broke 50,000 words last night, by a slim margin of 4 words.

This is, by the Letter of the Contract, Half A Book (not to be confused with Half a Bee). For those coming in late, the Contract stipulates “a Liaden novel, of at least 100,000 words.” In Reality, the three most recent novels — Fair Trade, Salvage Right, and Ribbon Dance — have all been in the +/-130,000 range. So! We’ll see what happens with WIPnovel.

I wish to note for the record, if there is one, that it is not raining today — it is sunny and warming — and that there’s a blue jay in the back yard swearing his fool head off.

Sixty

At the risk of repeating myself — it’s raining. To be fair, this is the first time that it’s rained in, oh, four or five days, and I find it exceedingly unfair that I was once again held hostage by back pain, and so missed being out in the beautiful weather. Today, of course, my back feels fine.

As a result of on-going back problems, writing has slowed. I did get some actual work done yesterday, and am hoping for the same today — and even tomorrow.

Unfortunately, the bouts of bad-backness have been messing with The Schedule, and The Schedule is kind of crucial to getting things done around here. Say what you will about hobgoblins and tiny minds, Habit is a Force and, properly managed, even a Force for Good, in which Good equals keeping on keeping on. So, will be trying to get back on Schedule, this weekend, as well.

Regarding those few fine days, I present to you — flowers! from Maine. The little blue ones are, appropriately enough, called glory-of-the-snow (reminding us that April snow in Maine isn’t all that unusual); and the tall soldier is my very first daffodil.

Forty-two

So, it’s raining, as it has been for the last few days. For a couple of those days, I had back spasms and was therefore zoned out on muscle relaxants and pain killers, which you’d think would make some things easier, but — didn’t.

I’m finding the wind and the rain unsettling, which is something of an about-face. I used to love wild weather. Well. Perhaps that’s something for young people, who may not be overly worried about trees, or wires, coming down.

I was born during a hurricane, as my father told me, so maybe I had a predisposition, or even a kinship. I used to race the wind — at first running; later in my car. I grew up in Baltimore, which was a thunderstorm-rich area. I loved the smell of ozone, and would stand outside to watch the lightning crackle across the sky.

The weather in Central Maine doesn’t tend toward violent thunderstorms. We get your nor’easters — wind and snow; wind and rain; your occasional sou’easter. Hurricanes, ayuh, we get those, too. And I find that I’m not a wind-junkie anymore, and that makes me sad.

In other news, I’m writing, slowly, and trying to stay on-topic. It’s so very weird, not to print out the pages and leave them on the dining room table for Steve to read. Instead, I print out what I wrote every evening, so I can read it over my breakfast — that works, pretty much. The worst part is when, mid-writing, I’ll ask myself, “And why are we doing this, exactly?” — it kind of derails the process.

Still, work is going forward, and I’ll take progress.

Below, proof of coon cats being on the case.

Keeping on keeping on

So! What on earth has the woman been doing?

Sorting through photographs, and Steve’s papers, and making some decisions thereby. Fanac.org was kind enough to take the box of fanzines I gathered, and will be digitizing and putting them on the site as time and volunteers allow.

Steve’s papers include some correspondence with interesting people in the field, and a file drawer of handwritten, unpublished poetry. Steve had been a traveling poet before I knew him, and he wrote poems like you and I doodle. By contrast, his fiction is — surprisingly sparse, mostly seeming to be many iterations of the same five or six stories, along with a couple that I dimly recall seeing, that had apparently been pitched in a box in frustration after gathering too many rejections.

The majority of what he left, though, are photographs. Steve was very rarely without a camera, and thus I am left with many (unsorted) glimpses of cats, daily life, cats, moments from the Liaden Universe® World Tour, time spent with the Friends of Liad, cats, and, err, me, along with pictures of us, and pictures of Steve, because he insisted that I have a camera, too, that being one of the markers of a civilized person to him, though I was never as prolific on film as he was. Oh, and pictures of cats.

Because of a combination of things — the sparseness of his papers, the convention badges and program books that I had no idea what to do with, the proliferation of personal letters, cards, and photographs, gave me the idea of making what I first conceived of as “a scrapbook,” but which will probably be three, or four, scrapbooks by the time I’m done. I’m thinking that there will be narrative, written by me, because the pictures are jogging my memory — never robust — and of course Steve left no notes of his own.

I have already sorted some of the photos into the existing album, which is what opened my eyes to the fact that a single album, with dividers, was Just Not Going to Do the Job, and I spent what was probably a stupidly long time looking at how many pictures there are of me, and questioning their part in this project. In the end, I came to the conclusion that, yes, the pictures of me are part of the narrative; after all, the photographer considered the pictures worth taking.

In addition to the above, I’ve been writing — not as quickly as I’d like, but that’s usually the case — and going to gym, and mostly keeping up with daily life, in this vastly changed environment. The coon cats are keeping a very close eye on me, which I can hardly blame them for, considering the number of A-List players we’re lost lately.

One thing I haven’t done is an InfoDump, and I really ought to. Some people will have missed the news about Steve, and there’s the Ribbon Dance eARC to promote, and the upcoming Salvage Right mass market because Life Does Go On, and books are in a very literal sense, my life.

Well. Maybe this weekend for the InfoDump.

I think that catches us up for right now.

Thank you all for your patience, and for your support down many years through many stories.