My Boskone schedule

This weekend is our increasingly low-key winter science fiction convention, Boskone. Here is where I'll be and what I will be doing.

Saturday 10:00 - 11:00, Occupy Luna, Carlton ( Westin)

How do we have a lunar society that avoids some of the problems we have today.

Vince Docherty (M), Allen M. Steele, Ian Randal Strock, Alexander Jablokov, Patrick Nielsen Hayden

I presume I will figure out what this means by the time I'm done with the panel.

Saturday 11:00 - 12:00, The Writing of Short Fiction, Carlton ( Westin)

Let's take a close-up view of what to do when you create a horror, science fiction, or fantasy story in one of the shorter lengths. How do you decide that this idea will work best short? How many characters can you fit? What's got to go in? What must you leave out? What short form masters should you steal blind?

Alexander Jablokov  (M), Laird Barron, F. Brett Cox, James Patrick Kelly, Beth Bernobich

Hey, I’m the moderator for this panel! That’s way more work than just making ill-considered observations. I’ll have to figure out some interesting questions to ask.

Saturday 13:00 - 13:30, Reading: Alexander Jablokov, Independence  ( Westin)

I will probably be reading my recent alien sex story, “Comfort of Strangers”.

Saturday 15:00 - 16:00, Environmental Rearguarding: What To Do After It's Too Late, Burroughs ( Westin)

Let's assume, as some scientists now fear, that the tipping point for catastrophic global climate change has already been reached. What can and should we do to 1) lessen its effects and 2) build a sustainable civilization on the world we'll have left?

Alexander Jablokov (M), Jeff Hecht, Tom Easton, Joan Slonczewski, Shira Lipkin

I only just noticed that I’m the moderator for this one too. Better start thinking.

Sunday 11:00 - 12:00, Reading: Flash Fiction from the Cambridge SF Workshop, Lewis (Westin)

Elaine Isaak, F. Brett Cox, Alexander Jablokov, James Patrick Kelly, Steven Popkes, Kenneth Schneyer

This was a fun event last year. I’ve been so busy with my novel that I had no time to write a short piece for this. I’ll probably read a short, relatively self-contained portion of the novel in progress, Timeslip.

Sunday 13:00 - 14:00, Crossover: Mystery & Genre, Burroughs ( Westin)

Which genre do mysteries most resemble: science fiction, fantasy, or horror? What mental muscles do they use similarly, for writer and for reader? If a mystery story is a whodunit, is an SF tale often a howdunit? What works have most successfully crossed the streams?

Toni Weisskopf (M), Dana Cameron, Alexander Jablokov, Leah Cypess, Toni L. P. Kelner

I love SF/mystery crossovers, and have written a few myself.

Dealing with meetings

Most people--most people with jobs, that is--say they hate meetings. The waste of time, the boredom, etc.

They are lying. Almost every employed person secretly likes meetings. Why? Because, bar the odd one where you have to do some tedious presentation or other, you don't have to work at a meeting. And, since you have to be at work all day, an hour or two sitting on a conference room is a chance to relax. All you really need to do is look alert. And make intelligent-seeming comments that have no work consequence for you.

Imagine that. All you need to do is sound smart. It's a great deal. People say they don't like them because if they admit they do, they fear someone will do something about it. Like cancel the meeting. Which just adds another hour of sitting in your cube staring at a screen.

When you're a freelancer, it's different. They pay you for product, but when you aren't working, it's entirely your business. Meeting filler is less valuable, because the alternative is not the grim cube, but the couch, or leaving the house altogether, or working on some other project. I have several regular meetings during the week with my main client, and they are nowhere near entertaining. Not terrible, just not something I would pick if it weren't part of the job. They just move me an hour closer to whatever deadline I have without allowing me to get anything actually done on what I'm supposed to deliver. They are a source of stress.

I do try. The meetings where they make me use a webcam are complete loss, plus I have to put on a nice shirt, adjust the lighting, and not slouch. But even the other ones, where I can put the Mute button on and type or something, I feel obliged to pay attention to what people are saying. It's just distracting. And sometimes they mix real content in with the announcements about events I won't be able to attend, staffing changes of no possible relevance to me, and bonus programs I don't qualify for. It's a cruel trick.

So, you, office worker: stop complaining about your meetings. They are a relatively painless way to abrade your day.

Trying to watch TV: Fringe

When I was young, I watched a lot of TV. Every night after dinner, my younger sister and I would retire to the den to watch a black and white TV pretty much until it was time to go to bed.  For a good while after that I had a TV in my room. I watched it after school while I played with my Cape Canaveral set.  I kept watching a lot of TV until partway through college.  Then I stopped.  I didn't have a TV for a while, and kind of lost the habit.

TV shows really are much better now. If you don't believe me, watch an episode of Gilligan's Island or F Troop, staples of my youth.  And they now have way more sex in them, which would have been a big plus for me as an adolescent.

All my fellow writers watch a lot more TV than I do. I feel left out, particularly as I've never much liked SF TV shows.  I've discussed this before.

But I'm willing to keep trying. Since I'm writing a book that involves alternate universes, several people have recommended Fringe.  But there are three gigantic seasons of the thing. I didn't feel like digging through all of it.

Fortunately, a writer and editor named Jennifer Heddle came to the rescue, with a guide to what episodes to watch in the first seasons. I can't emphasize how much this kind of thing helps. I can be up to speed quickly, and not waste a lot of time on filler material. If you actually enjoy watching TV, as an activity, filler material is fine, even necessary. I'm just trying to get a basic knowledge, so I can fake it. I'm using leverage, and Ms. Heddle is providing the capital.  Thank you!

Did you ever think you would need Cliff's Notes for television shows?

So far, Fringe is OK. It has the problem I find inherent to SF TV shows (and most written SF, truth be told): it's always about what it's about. The characters know what the story is, and they do what they need to in order to move it along. Employees of evil megacorporations spend their time kidnapping people and plotting world domination rather than clockwatching and attending project update meetings. Everyone feels obliged to follow the dictates of a typewritten manifesto from decades ago. And Olivia, the main character, God love her, has the sense of humor of a cement mixer. Of course, she is slowly discovering that she was the victim of unauthorized experiments on her in childhood, which could ruin anyone's day.

And why does the ravishing Astrid get to do nothing but turn things on and examine bodies? I'm worried she'll start sending out her resume, looking for a sidekick job where she actually gets to say mordant and amusing things and occasionally kick someone's butt. Is that too much to ask?

Nice ending episode, with some cute mysteries set up.  If I'd had to watch the entire season to get there, I would have felt underrewarded, but as it is, I'm looking forward to zipping through Season 2!

God of Carnage: play without subtext

Last night I went to the Huntington Theater to see Yasmin Reza's God of Carnage (which is currently also a movie, Carnage). It was better than most Huntington productions, though given my experience with them, that's setting the bar pretty low.

The play was translated from the original French by Christopher Hampton. He must also have had to translate a lot of cultural referents from the 14th Arrondissement (or wherever) to Cobble Hill, Brooklyn. The housing supply owner Mike Novak reads a bit too generically working class--self-satisfied upper middle class people tend to be easier to port from one cultural operating system to another, while strivers still have culturally specific rough edges.

You probably know the story. One 11-year-old boy hit another one with a stick, breaking a couple of teeth. The two pairs of parents come together to reasonably discuss the situation, only to fall apart into almost hostility, drunkenness, and self-pity.

It's pretty fun, and has the advantage of being really short. But it says nothing other than what is there. There is essentially no subtext. No character is anything other than what he or she says there on stage. There is no sense of anything deeper, any history, any unarticulated feelings. At one point they flirt with wondering what the real story of the boys' relationship might be, a potentially deeper issue, but quickly drop it in favor of squabbling over cell phones, tulips, and Darfur.

Movies can get away with that kind of thing, because they have so many other ways of distracting you from lack of underlying content. Plays can't. If those real people in front of you don't bleed out past the edges of the stage and the hour or two they are there, they become just people saying lines.

I won't see the movie, so feel free to tell me what that's like.

We live in Newt Gingrich's alternate universe

There are certain figures that genre writers like to use as defining specific eras.  If you go to early-to-mid eighteenth century America, no matter where you go, you run into Benjamin Franklin. Straining at the limits of biography, Neal Stephenson bootlegs an extremely young Ben Franklin into Quicksliver, and Jim Morrow puts an only slightly older one into The Last Witchfinder. Similarly, Mark Twain puffs a cigar and comments mordantly in almost any version of the Gilded Age you can imagine, Theodore Roosevelt yells "Bully!" in alternate worlds with steam-powered land dreadnoughts and Confederate empires, and Winston Churchill nobly faces down invading German armies even in worlds where history varied widely from our own. No amount of historical change can seem to get rid of these guys.

I am sure Newt Gingrich sees himself as a similar linking figure, looming darkly in a variety of divergent histories. Often he is scorned and disregarded, which doesn't make him any the less penetrating and right. But now, in our universe.... The muffin and the moment have met.

Gingrich writes and reads science fiction. I am sure that he consciously thinks this. This is the right universe, he thinks, for his improbable ascent. This is the line of history that is the true one. There are lesser lines where he goes down to defeat. They are low-probability lines, inhabited by shadows.

I don't think he'd ever blurt this out, in debate or on the stump. He has learned some control over the years. It would make him seem...crazy. But look into his eyes. He doesn't really believe that you exist. You're just a shadow appearing in a single universe. But he is a reality in all of them. Believe it.