sovay | This is just a perpendicular line to the brain

Current Music: David Bowie, "Please Mr. Gravedigger"

This is just a perpendicular line to the brain

I have not written any novels, so I cannot participate in the meme that is making the rounds of my friendlist (see

stillsostrange). But this is as good a place as any to mention that my oldest real story, "Stone Song," has been accepted by

norilana for her new anthology Sky Whales and Other Wonders, in which I know

time_shark also has a piece. This actually happened while I was in Orlando at the ICFA; it was one of the many wonderful elements of the conference about which I have not yet posted in any substantive way. To make up for this oversight, have a picture of me in a hat.

The hint of fair hair and blue-shirted shoulder on the deck chair behind me is David Swanger. About the same level of identification is possible for Eric Van's knee. Taken by Greer Gilman.

Left to right, I can identify Lila Garrott, Patricia McKillip, Greer Gilman, and Eric Van. Also my hat. Taken by Cheryl Morgan.

This is not my hat. These are Lila's feet. That sounds like a surrealistic lyric. (The hands with the silver ring, however, do belong to me.) Taken by Greer Gilman.

Our third night at the conference, I went downstairs after dinner to look for people. The previous night, there had been roaming and music. But the outdoor pool was almost deserted; other than a cluster of smokers outside the door, all I saw were three raccoons and a possum, which looked up at me from three feet away in the rhododendrons, unimpressed. I don't think they were anyone I knew. But if any of my friends were to have transformed into raccoons or possums, the International Conference on the Fantastic in the Arts would have been a completely believable place to do it.

Meat pie time!

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Congrats on your acceptance and you are very pretty. Lila's feet are also pretty.

Congrats on your acceptance and you are very pretty.

Heh. Thank you!

Lila's feet are also pretty.

Tell her!

Congratulations on the acceptance!

Thanks for the lovely photos.

three raccoons and a possum, which looked up at me from three feet away in the rhododendrons, unimpressed.

They do have a way of being unimpressed, don't they? Were they the classic smaller Southern raccoons, or have raccoons from the Midwest taken up residence in Orlando along with all the people?

But if any of my friends were to have transformed into raccoons or possums, the International Conference on the Fantastic in the Arts would have been a completely believable place to do it.

That would be rather brilliant. Sounds like a fine conference.

Congratulations on the acceptance!

Thank you!

Were they the classic smaller Southern raccoons, or have raccoons from the Midwest taken up residence in Orlando along with all the people?

I have no idea. They looked like ordinary raccoons to me, but I haven't studied any kind. They were my brother's totem.

Thank you!

I have no idea. They looked like ordinary raccoons to me, but I haven't studied any kind.

I've never studied, either. I just remember that when I was a kid it seemed as if Southern raccoons were significantly smaller than Northern raccoons. I remember one that was hanging out near Hemingway's house, particularly, but I'm thinking it was about the same size as the ones by the Gulf, the which I'd think would be alike to Floridian mainland raccoons.

They were my brother's totem.

Interesting. Did he go on a vision quest and see one, or...?

It's rather a nice hat. It occurs to me it's probably a wise hat, as you have no melatonin I remember in evidence.

Short-grain-brown-rice, date, orange, red onion, jalapeno and mint salad? *offers spoon* I'm dragging my gluten-free clients kicking and shrieking into the 21st century.

It occurs to me it's probably a wise hat, as you have no melatonin I remember in evidence.

. . . I went years without sunburn! I can't be that pale!

(Thank you.)

Short-grain-brown-rice, date, orange, red onion, jalapeno and mint salad?

I'd eat that. Even with the red onion.

Short-grain-brown-rice, date, orange, red onion, jalapeno and mint salad?

My, that sounds very good.

To make up for this oversight, have a picture of me in a hat.

That's one way-cool hat.

Congratulations on the acceptance of "Stone Song."

That's one way-cool hat.

It kept me from sunburning! I was very impressed.

Congratulations on the acceptance of "Stone Song."

Thank you!

I'd seen you from the video of you reading one of your poems, but this photo is really nice because it's your face full on.

I can quite easily see you in **any number** of ballads! Furthermore, you look capable of coming out of the ballad alive, which is an accomplishment.

Enjoy the pies--happy birthday to your dad! And congrats on the story--how great to have your first-ever find a home.

I can quite easily see you in **any number** of ballads! Furthermore, you look capable of coming out of the ballad alive, which is an accomplishment.

That is a compliment. Thank you!

Enjoy the pies--happy birthday to your dad! And congrats on the story--how great to have your first-ever find a home.

It's made me very happy!

Congratulations on the sale!

Congratulations on the sale!

Thank you!

Congratulations on the sale!

That is an excellent hat! And I see you need them as much as I do, with that "lovely milky" complexion that burns, burns, burns. Also, I have serious hair envy. If mine looked like that when it grew out, I wouldn't now have it sliced at the chin.

Congratulations on the sale!

Thank you!

That is an excellent hat!

My father has taken to referring to it as the Fitzcarraldo Hat. This makes me happy.

And I see you need them as much as I do, with that "lovely milky" complexion that burns, burns, burns.

I never used to sunburn, actually. This is the first hat I have ever owned that wasn't strictly for winter wear. But I like it.

Your father clearly has a genius for naming hats. Fitzcarraldo is perfect.

I never used to sunburn, actually.

As a young 'un, I would darken to a color like bark while my hair went nearly white. I was a proper dandelion sprite. As I grew older, I'd burn, then peel and be tan underneath. These days, both hair and skin play lobster.

Woo-hoo!

Woo-hoo!

It's all your fault!

Night animals make good conversation but unreliable minions, unless your aim is sabotage, as such, I have many (in my fevered imaginings), but my network doesn't run that far south.
Yet.

The hat is excellent, and reminds me of something you'd wear when put in charge of a little boat on the river, and if you can handle a boat on the river, then you can handle ballad survival.

Also, congratulations! The fact that your earliest can go on to good things impresses me. I would love to hear the story of that story.

but my network doesn't run that far south.
Yet.

I'll remember to ask the next ones I see . . .

The hat is excellent, and reminds me of something you'd wear when put in charge of a little boat on the river, and if you can handle a boat on the river, then you can handle ballad survival.

I am glad you approve.

Also, congratulations! The fact that your earliest can go on to good things impresses me. I would love to hear the story of that story.

Thank you! I will see what I can do.

I wouldst that thou had written novels, for then I could read them, and that would make me very happy indeed.

And, you know, your ability to just hang around with McKillip just fills me with envy. Superpowers!

And, you know, your ability to just hang around with McKillip just fills me with envy. Superpowers!

That was the piece of the conference I wanted to write most about and couldn't figure out how to without deteriorating into incoherence. Along with Jane Yolen and Peter S. Beagle, Patricia McKillip is one of my earliest and most favorite (and probably most formative) writers; I read The Riddle-Master of Hed before I was twelve and it is one of the books to which I always return, with different angles each time; The Sorceress and the Cygnet is also important to me. I had been introduced to her at the reception the first night, but of course she had no idea who I was. She came to

nineweaving's panels; her husband was part of the same poetry reading as me. (He is, by the way, phenomenal. I cannot recommend his co-translation of Bian Zhilin's The Carving of Insects highly enough: it was my single favorite book-steal from their rather impressive dealer's room.) And after the poetry reading, she came up to me to tell me how much she had enjoyed it. They bought copies of both my collections, which I inscribed no doubt with something painfully brainless, because I was so happy. Many other things in the course of the con were good, but I think that moment was the best.

The hairy man in all black, and sandals, facing right near the right edge of the second photo is Kevin Maroney.

Kevin Maroney.

Thanks! Sure; if you can identify people in the photograph, I would love to know who they are.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

This is just a perpendicular line to the brain

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In case you're collecting names/IDs

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