Rosemary Kirstein

Not posting lately, but just to let you know I’m still here… a series of events at the DayJob has resulted in all my time being completely devoured.

For, like, a month or so now.

Steps toward resolution will be taken quite soon. But in the meantime, I might be a bit quiet for a while.

Other news: spent the weekend serving as phlegm-factory, dosed out on Nyquil and Dayquil in alternation. A fact not unrelated to the situation mentioned above.

Other other news: there is no other news.

Next up: random photos from my wonderful Labor Day weekend that I had no time to tell you about….

Kayaking -- love it.

Wild grapes!

They'd make a great table decoration, if only they lasted....

More later…

I mentioned this on Facebook, but completely forgot to put it here —

I wanted to remind people that Ellen Kushner (famous author, and wife of other famous author and Genrette Delia Sherman) wrote a radio program called “The Door is Opened,” which I heard many years ago, before I actually met her.

It’s about Yom Kuppur and Rosh Hashana, and as a non-Jewish person I knew next to nothing about those holidays. People tend to assume I’m Jewish because of the last name, but nope.

(If you’re curious: I’m an atheist. But as a writer and student of human nature, I’m interested in what makes people tick. The cultural content and context of the Jewish traditions interest me much more than any religious aspects.)

The show was gorgeous, deep, and moving. It totally swept me away. It really is worth hearing, and I urge you to do so because (ta-da!) it’s available to listen to online for free. And while you’re there, you can peruse the other episodes of Sound and Spirit. They’re all excellent, and they’re all hosted by and written by Ellen Kushner.

Meanwhile, Delia Sherman‘s Young Adult novel The Freedom Maze is coming out soon, and you can read the first chapters online for free.

Also cool: My pal Ann Tonsor Zeddies has a story appearing in a YA anthology called Speaking Out: LGBTQ Youth Stand Up. I haven’t read the story yet, but shall be laying my money down for a copy of the book real soon.

Other news: I have not fallen off the face of the earth, contrary to appearances. But ever since Labor Day I’ve had not a minute to spare from an avalanche of overtime at the DayJob. Or rather, what minutes I do have to spare are spent either a) writing, b) going to the gym so my body doesn’t disintegrate from the overtime, or c) complaining. These are my main pastimes lately. Hoping for things to ease up soon.

Latest audiobook I’m working out to: Scott Westerfeld‘s Goliath, the third volume of his YA steampunk trilogy. I love Westerfeld, and I love this trilogy, which I’ve “read” completely in audiobook form. There’s nothing like a good YA when you’re feeling blue.

“”We don’t allow faster than light neutrinos in here” said the bartender. A neutrino walks into a bar.

(from @flyosity (Mike Rundle) on Twitter, via BoingBoing)

Here’s the news, if you haven’t heard.

For those who have asked: Yes, I’m aware of the brouhaha surrounding Amazon.com’s supposed intention to become the Netflix of ebooks.

Here’s what Catherynne M. Valente says about it.

And here’s John (President of Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America) Scalzi’s take. (Halfway down the page).

My take: It’s too soon to get either excited or outraged. I haven’t heard that it’s a definite go yet.

It was many years after the events of 9/11 that I learned that someone I knew had died in the fall of the World Trade Center.

I found out purely by accident,driving home from a visit to Boston, punching the radio tuner buttons, trying to find something interesting to listen to.

I heard a voice singing, and said to myself, Hey, that’s Jack Hardy! Naturally, I paused on the station, and drove along, glad to have found it, listening with my ears wide open, and my brain fully engaged, as I did whenever listening to Jack’s music.

After a bit, I thought:  Hm, I don’t know that song… must be new.

Then:  No, that can’t be Jack… because… That can’t have happened.   I would have heard something.

But it was Jack singing, and it had happened.

New York Times article from two weeks after 9/11 .

Jeff Hardy’s NYT portrait.

The tribute on Jack’s website.

I didn’t know Jeff well. I met him several times, but saw him play dozens of times. He was just, sort of … always there.

By the time I heard the song, on the road from Boston to home, it had been years since 9/11 — long enough for the events to start to drift away from the immediate, toward the abstract.

The song brought it back from the abstract. Because I found out now, it was happening now.

A young man I know, Marine Lance Corporal Adrian Simone, was wounded in Afghanistan last month, where his squad encountered an IED.

That’s now, too.

He just got back to the states a couple of weeks ago. I hear he’s doing well. There have been some great advances in prosthesis, and it will take some time. Still… doing well.

And that’s now, too.

Seems like everything is now, lately.

Trying to cram in some writing time before the gym.

Or cram in some gym time after writing.

Starbucks. Because it's there.

Either way, by waiting I miss the most crowded times. I’m surrounded by people all day long at the DayJob, and just do NOT want to work out in a big crowd!

Current audiobook getting me through my workout: Terry Pratchett’s The Fifth Elephant. I seem to be on a Pratchett binge lately.

The music at Starbuck’s is particularly annoying today.

We survived the hurricane just fine — only lost power for a couple of hours. Nothing broke, nothing blew away. Some tree branches that were formerly up are now down, but they weren’t big, and nothing important was beneath them.

Other parts of the state did not fare so well. We’re inland, and the Shore got hit the worst in Connecticut. A lot of my co-workers are still without electricity.

Ack! Time’s up!

I love Vance Gilbert.

It breaks my heart that the guy who wrote THIS:

had to go through THIS:

Flying While Black and Reading Antique Aviation Books

I remember Vance singing that song, with an even longer spoken introduction, at the Boston Music Festival. I got all misty-eyed.

So — what the hell? Since when is reading about airplanes so potentially dangerous that you have to send the plane back to the gate?

Apparently, when the person reading is not white.

And — this is probably the real key — when the people supposedly trying to protect us do not actually know how to use logic and reason.

Far too many stupid things have been done by TSA and the airlines in the name of safety. I don’t have to list them here. Add racism to the mix, and it’s even worse.

My personal suggestion: HIRE SMART PEOPLE. Oh, yeah — You’ll have to pay them well. Smart folks don’t come cheap.

So, spend some money. Think of what you’ll save on public relations, and lawsuits.

Apparently United Airlines is going to discuss the incident with Mr. Gilbert. I’m going to keep an eye on this, to see what happens next…

(You can read about it on Vance Gilbert’s own blog here.)

Update: here’s the Atlantic’s coverage and comments, including some photos of Mr. Gilbert.

Contrary to appearances, I do not spend all my time in coffee shops.

If only that were true!

The key to surviving the crappy local Starbucks is to score an outside seat. Inside is just too grim.

Plus: you can eavesdrop on everyone's conversations.

Just trying to get some writing in before hitting the gym.

We’re all battening down for Irene… It’s quite a weird sensation, in that the sky is perfectly clear and perfectly blue, and all around me the talk is all of power outages, canned food, and filling your bathtub with water Just In Case. Plus: The stores are putting signs out front saying “NO C BATTERIES”.

Can be used as actual money.

Desperately trying to get back the momentum I had on The Seekrit Project, which was soaring and is now but limping.

Frankly, folks, I’m hoping that the town where my DayJob is located will have a power outage, while my actual own town does not! So I can have some days off! With electricity, because my laptop batteries just won’t last the whole weekend… yeah, I know they won’t pay us for days not worked, but you know what? My bank account is bulging with overtime pay! I can afford unpaid days off!

So, you know, Irene? What say?

TOO MUCH OVERTIME! Decompression required.

If you guess, you get, um…. um…. Okay, I got nothing.

I ain’t leaving until writing has occurred.