Rosemary Kirstein

Doing a bit of catch-up here — two weekends in a row chock-full of running around apparently requires at least one full weekend of Not Much of Anything Except Naps and Leisurely Walks.

The usual Post-Readercon get-together took place, with fellow authors Ann Zeddies and Geary Gravel. We hung out, talked a lot, did not stint on the wine and other imbibables, ate excellent dinners, enjoyed selected audiovisual entertainments, and shared some work in progress. Also: executed our now-traditional collage art works. The last few years we’ve been covering book-shaped boxes with collages, which has the advantage of resulting in an item that can be put on a shelf, as opposed to yet another thing to hang on one’s wall, when all the wall space has already been used up, so that the new artwork ends up admired for a day and then consigned to the basement for eternity.

Mine, Geary’s, Ann’s

(Because many images follow, I’ll put a page break here, so your browser won’t load them all unless you’re actually interested in seeing them. Alas, this doesn’t work if you come here via facebook or through a feed; you just get all the pictures and it will take FOR. EV. ER.)

Continue reading

I’ve been trying to do more lately, with the predictable result that I’m getting tired out more (and blogging less)!   I spent last weekend in my annual post-Readercon visit with writer pals Ann Zeddies and Geary Gravel.  Wherein we talk ’til all hours, eat far too much cake, and engage in productive arts & crafts — about which I will blog over the weekend, when I have a bit more time & energy…

But I wanted to share this right away, to which Geary directed my attention yesterday:

When I see things like this, I’m amazed by the fact that I’m here, and privileged to witness such skill and beauty.

Damn, it’s good to be alive.

My first actual out-and-about public appearance since — well, since the diagnosis in December.

Everyone was perfectly lovely to me.  Most people had heard about what’s been going on in my life, and were glad to see me, and welcoming.  And those who didn’t know me at all did not look askance at my odd hairdo.  Because that’s how we roll in SF/F.   I’ve given up wearing hats because: hair coming back in!  Plus: summer.  Hats are far too hot.

I did have some trouble with my energy levels.   I seem to have two settings: 1) Perfectly fine, let’s chat! 2) Okay, I go lie down now.  These alternate at apparently random intervals.

I skipped all the usual huge group dinners in favor of room service.    Because, even if I felt good at the start of the dinner, I might suddenly not — so I played it safe.

I only had the one panel, on why schools and the education experience show up so much in SF/F literature (with Greer Gilman, Lev Grossman, Faye Ringel, Delia Sherman, Rick Wilber).   I think I wasn’t my sharpest, having just fought my way through stop-and-go traffic on the Mass Pike, followed by more stop-and-go traffic  on route 95, arriving at the hotel exactly one hour before the panel, and discovering that valet parking was not an option in my case because the valet could not drive a manual shift car!  Which mine is.  Because I like it.  And all the nearby parking spots were taken — but after much explaining on my part, hotel security said that I could leave my car out front until after my panel.  Which was nice of them.

Oh, and my car’s air conditioning is broken.  Did I mention that?  Yeah.

So, I arrived already exhausted, and I feel I could have done much better on that panel…  I could have said quite a lot about the Steerswomen’s Academy, but didn’t quite have the nimbleness of mind to insert my counterpoints at the right moments.   Because, of course, the Steerswomen’s Academy is so very different from other school experiences presented in literature.

At the Meet the Schmoes Pros Party, James Patrick Kelly had the misfortune of being the first person I ran into.  Since I haven’t really seen many people other than Sabine and some close friends  for the last four months, I had to say All the Things!  Right Away!  Non-Stop!  He endured it bravely and graciously.   What a sweetie.    And of course, Ellen, and Delia, and Elaine Isaacs.  Oh, and Yves Meynard, who is such a dear.  And newly married!

And not to forget mad book collector and pal Michael Tallin, who lives on the opposite side of the country, and I only see at conventions.   His book-and-autograph fever often sends him to Readercon, and I get the pleasure of his conversation and company, without actually having to foot the bill for a flight to California!

It was lovely to be out in a social situation again, with people who are of My Tribe.

But it did wear me out.  I did not rush to get up the next day.   And rested often.

I managed to catch a couple of panels on Saturday.  When the Other Is You, where the panelists, all members of minorities or marginalized groups,  spoke of the difficulties and pitfalls in writing about their experiences.   (That was Chesya Burke, Samuel Delaney, Peter Dube, Mikki Kendall, Vendana Singh and Sabrina Vourvoulias.)  Later, I caught New Models of Masculinity,(Erik Amundsen, John Benson, Kameron Hurley, Catt Kingsgrave and Bart Leib)  wherein the panelists discussed the fact that SF/F too often uses the default cliche version of the manly man, and what are the other options?  And how does it operate in the real world today?  Fascinating.

I also caught great readings by Ellen Kushner, Delia Sherman, and Daryl Gregory.

There was no Kirk Poland Memorial Bad Science Fiction and Fantasy Competition — and that’s okay.  Kirk Poland was a brilliant, hilarious idea, and thrived for many years — but it has basically run its course, and is best retired.   We shall remember it fondly.  Time to do something else.

The something else was A Most Readerconnish Miscellany: readings, music, poetry, by all sorts of people, as part of a fundraiser for the Boston Area Rape Crisis Center, and Operation   Hammond, which teaches convention runners and volunteers about first aid, both worthy causes.   I arrived late, and left early, later discovering that I’d missed a performance by Ellen Kushner!  but I caught a vivid, rousing poetry recitation by C.S.E. Cooney.   I had heard her do “The Sea King’s Second Bride” in the past and was blown away; this time I arrived partway through her poem, which involved a woman, a double-bass, and the Devil.  It was awesome.

A reading by one of  the guests of honor, Andrea Hairston, also included a banjo-player who had put some of the song lyrics in Hairston’s work to actual music with actual banjo.  Excellent.

And Daniel Jose Older did an excerpt from his work — completely amazing.   A true performer and storyteller, with this brilliant, crazy urban edge. After his bit, I waved over the person collecting the donations and handed over forty bucks, because damn! I now have to run out and get everything available by Older.

Then my Kaffeeklatsch, which I think went well.  We merged the the other person klatsching, one Adrienne J. Odasso, a poet new to me.   I bought one of her chap-books, but haven’t delved into it yet…

Oh, look!  My indicator just flipped over from Perfectly Fine! to I Go Lie Down Now.  I shall do that, soon.

I do regret that I wasn’t able to meet & greet and hang with all the people I’d hoped to… but my on again/off again energy level kept me from being as social as I’d have liked, and from seeing as many panels as I wished I could have seen.  I passed people in the halls who I wanted to talk to, or hang with… but I just couldn’t do all I wanted.

So if I missed you, I do apologize (looking at you, Kate Nepveu!).

But I was so glad to finally get out into the real (as in SF/F fan and writers’) world again.

In other news: Radiation is going well. About which, more later.

Actually… I got four tattoos!

Actually… I didn’t so much get them, as have them given to me, willy-nilly…

Yep, they are the tattooed reference marks that the radiation therapists will use to make sure I’m absolutely correctly aligned when they zap me with their rays.  So they hit only what they want to hit, and not nearby other things like, say, my lungs and my heart.

Nothing cool about them, alas.   Merely four tiny dots, distinguishable from freckles only by the fact that they are a bluish black.  Not in locations that I care to display, generally.

We’re still in the prep phase, with a dry run tomorrow.  I feel like a NASA mission — all these lovely techno-nerds collaborating to get me launched!  It’s kind of cool.

I may be less enthusiastic down the line when the side-effects have built up, and I get the skin irritation and the fatigue.   It’ll be six weeks of daily radiation.  I’m sure the novelty will wear off quickly.

In other news:  Readercon this weekend.  I have exactly one panel, on Friday.   Which is not a bad thing, as I find I still do get suddenly tired, if I have to be out and about.  Oh, and a Kaffeeklatsch on Sunday!  That should be fun.  Other than that, I plan to soak myself in the brilliance and erudition of others, on their various panels.   And schmooze.

In other other news: two freaking hours on the phone with AT&T while they tried to figure out why the heck my new and DEARLY PURCHASED iPhone 5s 32 gig has no service.   With no result.   And then they promised me a callback.  And did not call back. Because eventually it became 10PM, when all AT&T customer service reps say goodnight.

Ah, I see.

He’s back.

The Indiegogo fundraiser for Interfiction Online (the online magazine of genre-bending, category-shattering and generally interstitial art) — I’ve mentioned them before — has met its original goal of $8500 with twelve days left in the campaign.   So now they’re heading for their stretch goal of $10,000, and you can help.

The purpose of the fundraiser is to allow them to pay their contributors a professional rate, and improve their site to include visual arts.   Paying authors and artists good rates for what they do is a goal of which I greatly approve!

So, I just went over there myself  and gave them some money.   There are various rewards for contributing, but the one I chose was $30, for which I get signed copies of their first two print anthologies, which sound delicious.

Ellen Kushner and Delia Sherman had actually asked that I donate something that they could use as one of the rewards — and I COMPLETELY FORGOT.  Largely, I think, because the conversation took place the day before my surgery.  After which for some time I was, let’s say, distracted and not at my sharpest.

Then the other day I saw that they had reached their goal.  Hooray! said I, and then: Wait, what?  So I dashed over and contributed actual money.

And now I’m telling you.

You can check out the website to see what you’d be supporting, and decide if you want to participate.  And you would get cool things, too!

In other news: I continue to improve.  I’m not up to full strength yet, but getting there.  Next stage: radiation therapy.   I’ll find out when that starts in the next few days.