Eugene Fischer

Category: Writing

Stuff I’m Doing and Reading: A Miscellany

So I’m paying hosting costs for this site, right?  I bought a domain name and everything.  I should do something with it.  Here’s what I’m doing right now:

Tiny Hamburgers

I’m in a bar, lurking in corners with my laptop and munching tiny hamburgers.  Creepy and delicious!  Even more exciting than what I’m doing right now: things on the internet that I have recently enjoyed.

First up, Leonard Richardson’s story “Let Us Now Praise Awesome Dinosaurs” just went live on Strange Horizons.  The story is precisely what it says on the tin, and the world is a better place for it.  I haven’t met Leonard, but he was one of the editors of Thoughtcrime Experiments, which has been pretty awesome every time I’ve dipped into it.  I should note that this is a story written in the infernokrusher idiom, the description and discussion of which at the link are supremely entertaining reading in their own right.

Next, a review of Robert Heinlein’s The Moon is a Harsh Mistress by Nicholas Whyte.  He is one of my favorite sources of thoughtful writing about science fiction, and The Moon is a Harsh Mistress has been one of my favorite SF novels for years.  It’s one of those books I buy copies of to give away.  Nicholas’s review almost perfectly reflects my own thoughts about the book, except if I were writing it there would probably have been a little gleeful gushing about the awesomeness of people hurtling between planets in jury rigged tin cans.  But then I think I’m more of a gusher than he is.

Just got word that there is a birthday party I need to be at.

Exuent.

“Tentacle Mind Report” by Stefani Nellen

Steffi wrote the first draft of this story at Clarion last summer, and after a couple of pages I put my pen down and forgot I was supposed to be critiquing because I was so engrossed by it.  Steffi has a gift for marrying the mundane to the unsettling, and while this story of parasitic friendship and mental collapse in recently reunified Germany is among the most naturalistic she wrote last summer, fantastic imagery intrudes as a pseudo-authorial voice in a way that is deeply creepy and utterly brilliant.  I have been eagerly awaiting getting to see this story again, and now Conjunctions has had the wisdom to publish it.  Go read Stefani Nellen’s “Tentacle Mind Report.”

I’m Big In Ghana

Well, at least, I’m big enough to have had my work plagiarized by someone ostensibly from Ghana.  The Grin Without A Cat blog reports the receipt of a strange submission for an anthology of fantasy stories by Filipino authors:

Specifically, someone sent in a pseudo-submission with this intro:

From: samuel ansah asare
Date: Thu, Apr 9, 2009 at 6:44 PM
Subject: SUBMISSION OF MY 7500 WORDS OF SHORT STORIES.
To: estranghero@gmail.com

NAME :MR. SAMUEL ERNEST ANSAH ASARE,
P.O.BOX 1049,
KANESHIE-ACCRA.
GHANA.
TELEPHONE NUMBERS: +233(0)242517475, +233(0)267307499

NOTE :PLEASE IF I WIN FOR MY 7500WORDS OF MY SPECULATIVE SHORT STORIES, KINDLY USE MY REAL NAME MR.ERNEST ASARE IN MAKING WESTERN UNION TO SEND MY CASH OF PRIZE OF MONEY TO ME. MY GHANAIAN NATIONAL VOTER ID CARD IS MISSING SO DO NOT USE SAMUEL AS A WESTERN UNION TO ME IN GHANA.

[…]

But what made this doubly-interesting was when– on a whim– I googled the first line of the first story and what came out was Eugene Fisher’s Husbandry in Strange Horizons. The others were Nira and I by Shweta Narayan, The Spider in You by Sean E. Markey, and Turning the Apples by Tina Connolly.

So, there we have it.  My first plagiarization.  (Also, the first misspelling of my name in attribution of published work.  This will almost certainly happen again.)  This brings to my mind Neal Stephenson’s remarks upon learning that text from his novel Cryptonomicon was being used by spammers:

e-mail filters learn from their mistakes. When the Cryptonomicon spam was sent out, it must have generated an immune response in the world’s spam filtering systems, inoculating them against my literary style. So this could actually cause my writing to disappear from the Internet.

If this blog–or worse, Strange Horizons–should suddenly go dark, blame the Ghanan fiction spammers.

“Husbandry” Genre Poll Results

My poll asking readers to tell me what genre they think my story “Husbandry” is has been up for a week now, and as of this writing the results are: 4 votes for “Fantasy,” 5 votes for “Science Fiction,” and 6 votes for “Something Else.”  So it’s pretty close.  The something-elses have, I think, some granularity, with Sarah, Damien, and Kat arguing that it’s interstitial fiction, and Elizabeth Twist opining that it’s subtle horror–an opinion shared by Karen Meisner (who was my editor on the story) in this comments thread.  (Thanks for the kind words, Shweta!)  EDIT: Oops! I mischaracterized Karen’s opinion–see the comments on this post.

I didn’t vote in the poll.  If I had voted when I set up the poll, I probably would have voted for fantasy, though I would have been thinking that it was fantasy written with a distinctly science fiction sensibility.  I have trouble thinking of it as really being science fiction because, well, zombies.  Everything around that core I tried to treat naturalistically, even rigorously, but there is no mechanism for how death works in the story, and without that I can’t really consider it science fiction.  All of the stories I’ve read with zombies have been ones I would characterize as fantasy, but I could be persuaded that this is because my familiarity of horror as a literary genre is almost nonexistant.  It occurs to me that most zombie movies are considered horror; perhaps that is the natural home of the trope.  I don’t really know where the edges of fantasy and horror meet, or how widely they overlap.  And is what I’m calling an overlap what the Interstitial Arts Foundation would call an interstice?  I’m not sure I understand what interstitial art is.  It seems more natural to me to think of these categories as overlapping Venn diagrams, of genres as things that bleed into each other rather than as things with gaps between them into which some stories slip.  But then I don’t have the task of marketing books to bookstores.  The interstitial metaphor begins to make more sense if there is a shelf of fantasy and a shelf of horror, and they don’t touch each other.  Suddenly, in the bookstore of my mind, my story is lying on the floor somewhere between them.  So, I’m still not sure I know what genre “Husbandry” is, but I’m starting to be persuaded that “something else” is a worthy winner.  Let’s hear it for the wisdom of crowds.  (I’m going to leave the poll open for a while longer, just to see what happens.)

Sarah Miller in Everyday Weirdness

My Clarionmate Sarah Miller has had a lovely, elegant flash piece published at Everyday Weirdness.  Take a few moments and make your day a little stranger by experiencing “The Music at Bash Bish Falls.“

“Husbandry” Goes Live at Strange Horizons

My short story “Husbandry” has just gone up at Strange Horizons!  I encourage you to read it, and hope you enjoy it.

I have never been able to characterize this story to my satisfaction in terms of genre.  I can’t decide if I think it is fantasy or science fiction.  To that end, a poll:

What genre is "Husbandry?"

View Results

Loading ... Loading ...

Know Your Foe: TNF-alpha

The following is a classified communique, smuggled across the blood/brain barrier from counter-insurgency leaders in the cortex.

—————

*URGENT MESSAGE FOR PARTISANS OF THE DEFENDERS OF THE DIGESTIVE TISSUES*

It’s been a long battle.  No one knows better than we do how entrenched and seemingly unstoppable are the rogue forces within the immune system that persist in waging their psychotic war against the innocent cells of the alimentary canal.  And no one knows better than we do the sacrifices our allies have made in the ongoing effort to protect and preserve the digestive tract for future generations.  Up until now, our only weapon against the autoimmune offensive has been the cortisol flood.  Our adrenal compatriots have been valiant in this matter, but we all knew it was never more than a stopgap measure.  Overproduction of corticosteroids takes too much of a toll on us all to be a long term solution.

But soon we will have a new weapon.  Our enemy’s weak point has been identified, and we are poised to attack.

tnfa_crystal_structureThis is our target: tumor necrosis factor alpha.  This cytokine has been identified as the molecule the enemy is using to regulate its illegal inflammatory actions.  Without TNF-alpha, the insurgents will be unable to continue clear-cutting our villi and ulcerating our viscera.  Their hidden macrophages will be rendered impotent, their detestable engines of apoptosis will grind to a halt.  We have the intelligence we need to end this war.  And, soon, we will have the means to act on it.  But we can’t do it alone; to strike this blow, we will need to accept help from an unusual source.

Your tireless counter-insurgency leaders have for some time now been in communication with extra-corpus agents.  We are aware that the idea of opening our borders to mercenary elements may be unsettling to some, but the reality of our situation is that such an alliance is our only path to victory.  The negotiations have been long and difficult, but, thanks to these efforts, we will be able to mount a new counter-offensive within one diurnal cycle.

humira-moleculeThe operation, code named “Project Humira,” will involve the introduction of an extra-corpus produced molecule called adalimumab.  It is an antibody designed to target TNF-alpha directly.  We currently lack the means to manufacture this antibody ourselves, but we have negotiated what we believe will be a steady supply, to be introduced into the circulatory system from without.  It is our belief that, with this antibody at our disposal, we can downregulate the insurgents’ inflammatory activity and finally end their destructive madness.  The unique and irreplaceable tissues of the digestive tract will be preserved for the appreciation and benefit our daughter cells and their daughter cells after them, down through the generations.  We will know homeostasis in our time.  Victory will soon be ours.

—————

Not for distribution within active inflammation zones.  Denature after transcription.

Sick and Tired and…Happy?

Yesterday I had a tickle in my throat that metamorphosed in the night into something more akin to a forest fire.  And I’m on day 2 of a weird, intermittent nose bleed.  And as I mentioned a little while back, I’ve lately been suffering from an increase in the severity of my Crohn’s symptoms.  But for all that, I’m feeling pretty happy today, for the following reasons, listed in ascending order of importance:

  1. Magic robe.
  2. I had an appointment with my gastroenterologist on Monday, and he decided that the backwards progression of my symptoms called for several aggressive steps to be taken on my behalf, including giving me stronger pain meds.  So now I have a magic robe and a big bottle of hydrocodone.  Even at this level of pain, hydrocodone seems to be strong enough to keep Zelazny’s Toothache at bay.
  3. If you have clicked over to the “Writing” tab since last night, you will have noticed that there is now a firm publication date for the story of mine that Strange Horizons is publishing.  I’m going through the galley now.
  4. I’ve spent the last three months on prednisone (which I was only supposed to be on for a matter of weeks) due to a protracted and ridiculous battle with my insurance company.  As of this morning, that battle is over.  I am finally going to be allowed to start on one of the class of medications my doctor first prescribed for me back in January.  If things go as planned, I will finally have a gleaming syringe full of specially tailored monoclonal antibodies delivered to me on Friday.

I’ve been putting off writing up a long, detailed account of The Harrowing Tale of E. J. and the Crohn’s until the insurance issues were resolved one way or another.  If I actually get my meds on Friday, that will give the narrative enough closure for me to be willing to commit it to text.  I expect it will be somewhat cathartic to write, though I can make no promises that it will be particularly pleasant to read.  And I might wait a little while to post it, as I’m not convinced that thousands of words about misery and blood and pain are what I want on the front page of this site when my first published story goes live.  But if my discussion of my health issues up to this point has, to borrow a phrase from Neal Stephenson, sounded like the terse mutterings of a pilot at the controls of a damaged plane, know that that has been more or less by design.  For the last 2/3 of a year, my life has been awfully one-note; limiting the degree to which I let it dominate my conversation has been an intentional coping strategy to force me to pay attention to more positive things.

Some Thoughts on the Announcement of the Class of Clarion 2009

ClarionAcceptance

My immediate reaction to learning I was accepted to Clarion: grabbing books by Neil Gaiman and Kelly Link and grinning like a maniac.

This picture was taken a year ago yesterday, approximately ten minutes after I found out I was accepted to the Clarion Writers’ Workshop for 2008.  That night my girlfriend and I were planning to go out to dinner to celebrate her having finished her qualifying exam.  We stopped at my apartment for some reason or other, and I checked my email, and suddenly we had something new to celebrate.  I was just finishing a year of Figuring Things Out that I took for myself after I graduated from Trinity, during which I tried to decide if I was going to stay in the sciences or if I was going to try seriously to pursue being a writer.  I viewed my application to Clarion as something of a personal test: if I could get in to this workshop, with that history and those instructors, then maybe being a science fiction author wasn’t just an impossible fantasy.  Despite having been a creative writing major at my swanky, free-thinking arts high school, five years of pouring all of my mental energy into physics and mathematics had made me lose any strong sense of myself as a writer.  Being accepted to Clarion was my first step toward taking myself seriously that way again.  And, in all the ways that Kathleen Howard writes about so eloquently (must-read advice for those just accepted), attending it changed my life.

Now eighteen more lives are going to be changed.  The Clarion 2009 class has been selected.  You can see their names and links to some blogs at the UCSD Clarion Alumni page.  Huge congratulations to all of you!  You are in for an amazing, exhausting, once-in-a-lifetime experience.

It’s a fascinating feeling, watching the cycle continue with a fresh group of students.  Part of me feels a sense of loss–my Clarion is undeniably over now that there is a new, more recent one.  But a large part of the appeal of Clarion when I first applied to it was its history.  Forty years of being the proving ground for some of the best and most successful writers in SF.  So another, greater part of me thrills to see the tradition continue, knowing that I am a part of that history now.

Finally: I can’t improve on Kat’s advice for the newly accepted.  But I do have some thoughts for the newly not-accepted (some of whom I know read this blog).  They all boil down to reasons why, disappointed as you may be, you should not be discouraged and you should apply again.  Know that Clarion receives more qualified applicants than it has spaces available every year, and this year was no exception.  The selection committee always has to make some very tough choices.  So a rejection, especially one which says you impressed the committee, should not necessarily be seen as an indictment of your writing.  You may well have been very close to getting in.  Additionally, as long as attending Clarion lines up with your means and life goals you should keep applying because, honestly: if you have talent and are putting in effort, your odds of getting in are not bad.  Pretend that applications were selected randomly.  There are 18 spots open every year.  The record number of applications in a year is 194.  This year there were 91.  (It is likely that economic factors depressed the number of applications somewhat.  One third of this year’s accepted class is from California, as were a majority of all applicants.  It looks like people for whom travel costs would be significant were less likely to apply this year.)  If we use these numbers as a range, then (pretending quality of writing is not an issue) a random application has about a 10%-20% chance of being accepted.  If you are serious and confident about your work, it is not unreasonable to assume that your chances of getting in are 1-in-5 or better.  I can’t overstate how positive an experience Clarion was for me.  Certainly worth continuing to shoot for, with odds like that.

One more note: While San Diego is my Clarion, there is actually a family of Clarion workshops.  Clarion West in Seattle has accepted (almost all?) of its 2009 class as well, and congratulations to them!  There is also an Australian workshop modeled after the American ones, Clarion South.  Clarion South is currently struggling to meet its funding goal for its next session.  The call is going out through the extended Clarion family: consider donating to Clarion South.  Help keep the workshops alive, so that they will be there for future students and their wonderful tradition and history can continue to grow.

Revision: Complete

Finished the damn thing at around 5:00 in the morning.  Slept, gave it another pass through, then put it in the mail.

I’m beat.  I have thoughts about the class for Clarion 2009 being announced, but those will have to wait for another time.  No more from me, except to say that by far the most exciting thing to happen on the internet today was the discovery of a photocopy of Alan Moore’s Big Numbers issue 3.

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