Tim Pratt's Blog, page 15

The latest story in the Alphabet Quartet to be posted online is one of my faves: "N is for Nevermore Nevermore Land". Subscribers to Daily Science Fiction got "O is for Obfuscation" in their e-mail today.

There are still some good things left in my big book sale, though various titles have sold out. I made enough yesterday to cover the shortfall in my tax bill and pay for the kid's doctor appointment and medication — infections in both ears! — so thank you, thank you, thank you everyone who bought or spread the word. I'll keep taking orders through tomorrow, probably, and will pack stuff up and mail it in the next few days.

My wife was also pleased to see the giant pile of books in our living room is now small enough that we can actually see the wall behind it. She wants to hang a picture there. Presumably to keep me from piling up more books later. Futile hope.

Despite all that time spent at the doctor yesterday, it was a good day off. The kid was in good spirits once he got some children's Tylenol in him, and we did some grocery shopping and went to the library and ran around the park. I love my days with him. So glad I'm able to do that.

Life is about to get busy. I'm expecting editorial letters this month for Briarpatch, my Wizards of the Coast novel, and a pseudonymous book. So there are revisions in my future. I also have two short stories to write. (In my defense I've been thinking about them… but not so much writing.) Last weekend's vacation was fun but, uh, yeah. Vacation's over. Back to the pixel mines.

Originally published at Tim Pratt. You can comment here or there.

The long weekend in Southern California was pleasant and exhausting. We drove down on Thursday, spending about 7 hours in the car (with a couple of breaks). The kid was surprisingly tolerant of being strapped in a chair in a metal box on wheels for so long. We listened to podcasts and music and did a lot of singing. His favorite song is "Still Alive" (from the end credits of the great game Portal), and though I have two versions of the song, he only likes the one sung by the evil AI GLadOS, not the one sung by the actual songwriter, Jonathan Coulton. (As my son says: "I like the mommy one, not the daddy one." Hilarious! On a related note, all men's rooms are "Daddy bathrooms" and women's rooms are "Mommy bathrooms.") We got to our hotel in Anaheim and checked in and then braved the frigid afternoon for a swim in the pool. (Yes, the weather was cold, but: heated pool. And we could hardly deny the boy a chance to go swimming after he'd been so good on the long car ride.)

We rose early on Friday and headed straight for Disneyland, where for the next 12 hours our son was more or less constantly enraptured. Our friend Jenn joined us for the day, which was awesome. We had amazing line karma — I don't think we waited more than 20 minutes to ride anything, and usually it was only 10 or 15 minutes. The kid loved everything we did, and nothing scared him — he loved Pirates of the Caribbean, and the Haunted Mansion, and even the hellscape in Mr. Toad's Wild Ride. (He was, however, so utterly terrified of the Pinocchio ride that he wouldn't even go beyond the entryway. Who can explain the mind of a three-year-old?) We rode boats, and climbed into treehouses, and ate ice cream, and listened to music, and generally soaked it all in. By the end of the night, our boy caused a sing-a-long in line at the Dumbo ride by singing "Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me." (Which is quite adorable.)

Saturday was, if not so long a day, an equally full one. We drove down to Irvine to have breakfast with our friend Greg before my panel. Really wonderful eggs benedict, even better conversation, and overall a fine meal that was sadly ruined a bit when my kid puked all over me at the table. (He didn't throw up again after that, and we're not sure what caused it, as he seemed fine otherwise.) Once I got cleaned up, I walked over to the student center where Literary Orange was taking place, and immediately ran into Gail Carriger (who I've met once or twice before) and Eytan Kollin (who I hadn't). We were whisked to the green room, where I eyed the array of pastries avariciously, but didn't seize any, as I'd just been thoroughly breakfasted. The panel (with Eytan and his brother Dani, and Kay Kenyon, moderated by Michael Bricker) went pretty well, ranging across myriad subjects related to SF and publishing. I didn't fall off the stage or inadvertently curse at anyone, so I consider it a success.

Then I signed a few books before slipping away to have lunch with my wife and kid and our friend Anne (who is also the producer working on bringing my Marla Mason novels to screens big and small). We hit a wonderful Vietnamese sandwich shop, where we all ate vast quantities of food for small quantities of money. No puke this time. Things were definitely looking up.

After we said goodbye to Anne, we drove over to Newport Beach and enjoyed the relatively warm weather, letting our kid play in the sand and splash for a long time. He made friends with a little girl about his age, and much racing and romping and chasing was had. After the beach we walked to a nearby playground and let him run himself around unto exhaustion. From there, back to the hotel, and more swimming, and a big meal of ordered-in Thai food, and collapse unto exhaustion.

Sunday we drove home. And really did very little else. A wonderful little working vacation, I must say, but re-entry into real life is going to be a bit bumpy…

Originally published at Tim Pratt. You can comment here or there.

Just as I did two years ago, I'm throwing my shelves open to sell books. (Why? Well, I have taxes due in a week, and I just got word that a check I was expecting is going to be delayed for a couple of weeks, which will make ugly little minus signs appear in my checking account. Gotta fix that.) I've dug deep into my storage boxes for this one, so some of the quantities are extremely limited, and some of the works on offer are rare and unlikely to be seen for sale again.

The rules: most items are cover price (rounded up because pennies make me sad), and I'll offer them signed or unsigned, inscribed or uninscribed, as you prefer. Add $4 shipping per book for mass market/pocket-sized paperbacks (and weird small stuff like magazines and chapbooks), $6 for trade paperbacks and hardcovers in the US. Non-US people: add an extra $5 for shipping.

Comment here or send an e-mail to timpratt at gmail dot com with a list of what you want to buy, whether you want it signed or personalized, etc. I'll confirm whether or not everything you want is still available, and also confirm the total price. Then you can paypal me (timpratt at gmail dot com). Do e-mail or comment before sending money, since I'm selling things first-come-first-served.

Here's what I've got (it's a long list, but for some of them I have very limited copies):

Mass-market paperback of Blood Engines, $7 (9 8 copies available)


Mass-market paperback of Dead Reign, $7 (3 copies available)


Mass-market paperback of Spell Games, $7 (2 copies available)


Pocket-sized paperback of Bone Shop, $10 (1 copy available) Sold out!


Trade paperback of Broken Mirrors, $14 (1 copy available) Sold out!


Trade paperback of debut novel The Strange Adventures of Rangergirl, $12 (15 14 copies available)


Trade paperback of World Fantasy Award-nominated collection Hart & Boot & Other Stories, $15. (3 copies available) Sold out!


Trade paperback of collection Little Gods, $15. (This is the newer offset edition, which doesn't include the poems that were in the original print-on-demand edition. 20 19 copies available.)


Hardcover of collection Little Gods, $30 (This is the original hardcover version, without text on the cover — the publisher wanted to showcase the admittedly awesome art — and including poems omitted from the later edition. 1 copy available.) Sold out!


Trade paperback of anthology Sympathy for the Devil, edited by me, with stories by better writers including Michael Chabon, Kelly Link, Stephen King, and Elizabeth Bear: $16 (12 10 copies available)


Trade paperback of poetry collection If There Were Wolves, $10 (1 copy available) sold out!


Chapbook of The Christmas Mummy, a holiday chapbook by Tim Pratt & Heather Shaw, $5 (3 2 copies available)


Handmade ribbon-bound mini-chapbook 12 Haiku by Tim Pratt & Heather Shaw (this was a gift for guests at our wedding, never before offered for sale), $5 (7 5 copies available)

Now, some stuff that's not by me, but that includes work by me:

A signed copy of the July 2006 issue of Asimov's, including first publication of my Hugo-winning story "Impossible Dreams", $5 (1 copy available)


Trade paperback of The Best American Short Stories: 2005, edited by Michael Chabon, including my story "Hart & Boot", $14 (2 copies available)


Trade paperback of anthology Tel:Stories, edited by Jay Lake, including my story "Gulls", $18 (1 copy available)


Trade paperback of anthology Best New Fantasy, edited by Sean Wallace, with my story "Gulls", $13 (1 copy available)


Mass market paperback (UK edition) of anthology The Solaris Book of New Fantasy, edited by George Mann, including my Marla Mason story "Grander than the Sea", $10 (1 copy available) Sold out!


Trade paperback of Twenty Epics, edited by David Moles & Susan Groppi, including my story "Cup and Table", $20 (1 copy available) Sold out!


Trade paperback of Polyphony 5, edited by Deborah Layne & Jay Lake, including my story "The Crawlspace of the World", $19.00 (1 copy available)


Trade paperback of Best of the Rest 3, edited by Brian Youmans, including my story "Annabelle's Alphabet", $14 (1 copy available)


Diet Soap #1, including my story "Observer Effects", $5 (1 copy available)


Trade paperback of the 2005 Rhysling Anthology, including my Rhysling Award winner "Soul Searching", $10 (1 copy available)

And for you cosmopolitan types:

Trade paperback of Sacrifices Divins, the French edition of Blood Engines, $20 (4 copies available)


Trade paperback of Hexengift, the German edition of Poison Sleep, $13 (4 copies available)

Buy early and tell your friends! The sale will run for a few days or until I run out of books, and I'll ship things this weekend.

Originally published at Tim Pratt. You can comment here or there.

Great review of Welcome to Bordertown from Colleen Mondor at Bookslut! Here's what she says about my humble contribution:

In Tim Pratt's "Our Stars, Our Selves," Allie Land, "lesbian future rock star for hire," is offered one of those classic fairy tale boons — an actual wish for anything she wants. Of course she learns a lesson but not the one you'd think, and her decision is the least lame one I have ever read in the wish-accepting business. Belligerent and ballsy, Allie is a standout heroine.

Yeah, I'll take that.

Our trip to LA for Literary Orange and Disneyland looms. Just have to get our key to the cat/housesitter and pack our bags and find the cooler and print out our maps and and and… So excited. It's just four days, and a good 12-14 hours of it will be spent driving, but it's the closest thing to a vacation we've had in ages, and I can't wait.

Originally published at Tim Pratt. You can comment here or there.

Yesterday I finished The Sorcerer's House by Gene Wolfe, and found it to be entirely awesome. It has all the usual Wolfean unreliable narration, elision, indirection, misdirection, and nested weirdnesses, but in an altogether more accessible mode than in many of his other books. It was quite a page-turner. (I was a bit trepidatious about reading it, since I have an idea for a book that involves someone inheriting a house owned by a sorcerer, but I was pleased to find pretty much zero overlap between the things I'm thinking about and the things he did. Though of course my book won't be as good as his; because he is Gene Wolfe.)

***

My wife banged her head at the playground on Friday, hard enough to make her nauseated, and has been a bit woozy ever since. (A visit to the emergency room and a scan of her head indicate no lasting damage or blood on the brain, but they think she got a concussion, and she may suffer aftereffects for days or weeks afterward.) A bit scary, but she's all right.

We had a picnic in the park on Saturday, enjoying the insanely warm weather. (It's been in the 80s in recent days.) The picnic was our kid's idea, actually, so we packed up sandwiches and hummus and fruit and cheese and other goodies, spread our blanket on the grass, and had a wonderful lunch before setting the boy loose on the playground.

***

Did I mention I turned in that book that was due on April 1? I did. My wife read it last week and spared me from some terrible continuity errors. She continues to make me look smarter than I am. Glad that's done. Next on the to-do list is a new short story, which I started plinking away at on Sunday.

***

Wife and kid went to Wondercon on Sunday. There's photographic evidence: My son on the Iron Throne, with my wife as the power behind the throne. (He dressed as a pirate for the con. Though he debated about going as a monkey, or a monkey-pirate hybrid, as revealed in this brief video.) After they got home, I took the kid for a long walk around Berkeley, ending up at a playground, where instead of building sandcastles he dug sanddungeons. Or maybe sandoubliettes. (Seriously: dig a hole, put toys inside, cover hole with the lid of a bucket, and finally cover lid with sand, making the hole invisible.)

A good weekend. They usually are. And next weekend, we'll be in LA for the Literary Orange festival, and Disneyland, and swimming in the hotel pool, and going to the beach, and so forth. Should be glorious.

Originally published at Tim Pratt. You can comment here or there.

A few weeks back Patrick Hester was kind enough to invite me to the SF Signal Podcast for a conversation with him and Karen Burnham, and the podcast is now live! (I am longwinded and arrogant, as per usual.)

On the podcast, I blather at length about the Alphabet Quartet. You can read all the stories so far here, and you can comment on those stories, and others, at the Daily Science Fiction Facebook page.

I also go on about The Nex, natch. I've sold 98 e-books this month. I'd be delighted to sell 100, because, um, I have an irrational fascination with round numbers?

Originally published at Tim Pratt. You can comment here or there.

Last week was a bit of an ordeal. We went to press on Wednesday for the April issue of A Certain Magazine, so that required the usual big push of hard work to finish. Wednesday night I did a panel on "The Radical Futures of the Book" with Nick Mamatas and Terry Bisson at Counterpulse in San Francisco, where we talked about e-books, self-publishing, the collapse of traditional publishing, Google, political writing, radicalism, and other things. I'm told it will be a podcast sometime, and I'll link to it when the time comes, I'm sure. (I went to the panel straight after the end of a brutal deadline day, though, so I doubt I was at my best. I hope I struck the proper delicate balance of boorishness and being misinformed, for which I always strive…)

I took my day off with the kid on Thursday, and the boy started coughing in the afternoon. By evening it was clear he was suffering from a bad cold. He fell asleep in my lap after dinner and I put him to bed, but he woke up intermittently throughout the night, which wasn't very restful. The next day he wasn't any better — worse, if anything, wheezing terribly and feverish — so we took him to the hospital. That was more-or-less an all-day thing as they gave him steroids to help his breathing, then waited 45 minutes to see if he got better, then gave him more/different medication — rinse and repeat. He has asthma, so a bad cold can be pretty dangerous for him. By the afternoon he was buzzing on a steroid high and declaring himself "all better." (Of course, he wasn't, and when the meds wore off, he was a sad little dude.) But after a weekend of heavy asthma medication, he seems to be on the mend. My wife and I are sick now, too, of course. Having a pre-schooler means having your very own personal disease-vector right at home!

I did manage to get some work done, though, largely because deadlines loomed loomishly. I revised my novel over the weekend, and will send it off to the editor at the end of the week. The book turned out a lot better than I'd expected, and needed less work than I'd feared. A thousand thanks to my wonderful wife Heather for taking long stretches of childcare and allowing me to plow through making changes. I couldn't do any of the worthwhile things I do without her.

Next week, I start working on some stories, and then my Pathfinder novel, City of the Fallen Sky.

I read Joe Abercrombie's Best Served Cold (I'm kind of a sucker for revenge stories, actually, they scratch some primal mental itch for me), and liked it a lot, certainly enough to read the trilogy set in the same world. Not quite as good as K.J. Parker's gritty fantasies-with-minimal-magic, but in the same vein, and most enjoyable.

Originally published at Tim Pratt. You can comment here or there.

The good people at ChiZine Publications sent me something wonderful last week: The cover Eric Mohr created for my novel Briarpatch! (Coming 9/15/11.)

It's weird, dark, strange, and perfectly suited to the book. I'm so glad there are bridges on the cover, as this book has been referred to over the years mainly as "the Bridge novel."

Originally published at Tim Pratt. You can comment here or there.

I finished that pseudonymous work-for-hire book on Saturday. I'm pretty pleased with it, though it's going to need some cleanup and revision in the next week and a half, before I turn it in. It's pretty sound structurally, though, so I think a few scenes added and tweaked here and there, and a vigorous line edit, should bring it up to code.

I've written 95,000 words of fiction since January 1. (And boy are my arms tired.) A whole book, and a novelette.

Next month, I have to write two or three commissioned stories, and will probably start work on my Pathfinder book, City of the Fallen Sky, which is due in August. Whee for gainful employment!

***

My story "Shark's Teeth" is online at Daily Science Fiction (actually, it went up last Friday). It's the latest Marla Mason story, both chronologically and in terms of composition, but it's meant to stand alone even if you've never read a word about the character.

It could be an endpoint for the series, actually, though I'd like to write book 6 too. That might happen in 2012. I've been thinking about it, and have many ideas, but I also have A Thousand Deadlines between myself and the time required to serialize another novel. (And there's another non-Marla novel I want to write first…)

***

The Nex e-book is still selling steadily since I dropped the price to 99 cents (you can buy at Amazon, or at Barnes & Noble). 77 copies at Amazon in just a few days. Pretty neat. I'm glad people are finally reading it.

Originally published at Tim Pratt. You can comment here or there.

I thought I didn't have anything to write about, but looking over my recent entries they're all word count this and e-book that and look here's a story the other. So here's what's going on that's not writing related.

I commented to my wife Heather this morning, in a tone of some alarm, that nothing in our lives right now is actually wrong. This situation cannot endure, of course, but for now, I'm cautiously pleased about it.

I went to FOGcon last weekend, except I didn't actually go to FOGcon at all — I did briefly enter the hotel lobby a couple of times. (Heather actually did things at the con, but I wasn't feeling well Friday night, and so stayed home, and I took kid duty while she did fun convention stuff on Saturday night.) We took our kid into the city on Saturday and had lunch with a bunch of convention-going people — Jenn and Chris and Jed and David. Nice to see so many people all at once, though the need to keep my child from hurling his lemonade at passers-by made me a bit distracted. Afterward Jenn and Chris joined us for a stroll to Lafayette Park (right next to the mansion where Danielle Steele lives), which River loved — they have an old-school metal merry-go-round of the potentially-lethal sort I adored as a child, and the boy and I spun ourselves unto heights of extreme dizziness. (And despite walking too far and spending too long out and losing track of time and letting our parking meter expire, we didn't get a ticket. Small miracles.)

Parent-child interactions are going pretty well. The boy is basically potty trained at this point, which is awesome. He hasn't even had an accident in days. (To provide context for people who haven't shepherded a child through this process: this is easily the biggest deal in my LIFE at the moment. I no longer cope with vast quantities of feces on a daily basis. Life is, therefore, wonderful.) The boy is a total sweetheart, except for brief interludes where he's a fire tornado of apocalyptic rage. I took him to the dentist last week (his doctor's name is Dr. Lopez, but he calls her "Dr. Locus," which may indicate he spends too much time at the office with me), and he was awesome, totally chill, no freak-outs, just curious about the whole process. (His teeth are good, too.) He gets a bit stir-crazy when we can't go to the playground because of the incessant rain, but the rainy season will be over soon, so that problem will take care of itself.

And next month: a big road trip down south to L.A., ostensibly so I can be on a panel at the Literary Orange festival at UC Irvine, but the reason I happily accepted the invite is so we can take the boy to Disneyland. (I've never been. Is it fun?) Yay for adventures!

Oh: and I'm reading Lawrence Block hitman novels, and playing lots of Oblivion (still sniping and thieving my way across the country — great fun), and really, that's about it, but what more do I need for entertainment?

Originally published at Tim Pratt. You can comment here or there.