Updated Jan 26, 2017
at the end of the month now! I had my first class of the new semester this morning, and then I picked up the keys to the new apartment, and have already taken over a carload of stuff.
Now that we’re moving in, there’s a few issues I need to address immediately, that I didn’t know about. There’s no overhead light in my son’s room, for example, so I’ll need to buy a lamp for him, and the blinds in his room don’t go all the way to the bottom of the window, so I’ll need to put in curtains or the lights from neighbor’s cars will keep him awake at night.
There’s also a garbage disposal that really worries me — my son’s never lived in a place that had one, and I’m not sure he’ll understand how dangerous it could be, so I need to put in a safety grate before I can let him in the kitchen.
On top of those things, there’s still gas in the car (for moving) and the rental van to move our furniture, gas for that, and the landfill fees for one trip to dispose of whatever’s left we couldn’t get rid of any other way.
I estimate I’ll need another $200 in the next few days, and I don’t have it.
Because I’ve already paid my Jan rent at the old apartment, and the security deposit and February rent at the new apartment, and I don’t get my old security deposit back until some time in the 30 days after we’re done moving out, I’m already scraping the bottom of the financial barrel. I’ve come up short on the last few things we need, and I would appreciate if you can send a few dollars my way.
If you didn’t already know… I haven’t been able to afford my current apartment since pretty much when I moved in, and my landlord wants to do something else with the space, so when he asked if I’d consider moving out now, I jumped on the opportunity. I’ve found us a (smaller but still nice) much cheaper apartment closer to the edge of town. There’s no downside to moving, and a few big reasons to go ahead:
My new place is about $500 a month less than where I’m living now, closer to Logan’s school, and mine, so it’ll be great for both of us. Plus, we’ll be living very close to my significant other, the last step before we can be certain living together will work for us. The short-term hassle of having to scrape up rent/deposit/moving expenses before I get back the deposit on my current apt, and having to move, is totally worth the long-term gain of not being behind on bills every month, stressed out and unable to spend time on anything for myself.
I’m hoping that I’ll be able to balance a reasonable work schedule with a little more family time, and a chance to get back into a regular writing routine.
If you want to and can help with last bit of my moving costs, you can use the PayPal link below. Thank you.
Stretch and Bobbito: Radio That Changed Lives
Stretch and Bobbito: Radio That Changed Lives doesn’t intend to teach you much; it’s basically a love letter to Adrian Bartos and Robert Garcia, who hosted “The Stretch Armstrong and Bobbito Show” from 1990 to 1998, on the Columbia University radio station, WKCR. (You can learn a lot more from this NY Times article.)
I watched this documentary on Netflix over the weekend, and I liked it enough to recommend it, with some warnings: This isn’t an entry-level rap documentary. If you don’t already know the fundamental difference between a DJ who makes music, and a DJ who talks between playing tracks on the radio, this documentary won’t be for you. If you don’t already know the difference between rap and lyrical hip-hop, this won’t explain it. If you’re not intimately aware that the 90s rap scene in New York was unlike anywhere else in the world, well… you get the idea.
Stretch and Bobbito were the gatekeepers of, and introduction to, a whole generation of rap music, discovering (to name a few) Jay-Z, Nas, Notorious B.I.G., and Ol’ Dirty Bastard before they were signed. They showed a light on now-legendary artists before they got airtime anywhere else, elevating the careers of Cypress Hill, Eminem, and the Fugees, among others. If you understand the gravity of these events, then this movie will bring together dozens of names, familiar — and fading — artists who’re happy to recount the moment where the radio show changed their lives. You’ll get to see and hear freestyling clips from a range of artists, mostly unrecorded anywhere else.
There’s a lot of clips, some laughs, and a few quick moments of secret lore that are well worth watching, but the documentary avoids exploring the relationship between the two men behind the show in any real depth. We hear that Stretch didn’t like Bobbito getting all of the credit, and both of their musical tastes evolved in different directions, but that’s it. These two were important to the history of rap music in a big way, and yet… we don’t know any more about them than we did at the beginning. We just know that everyone loved them, because they assembled a bunch of people to say that, and no one who didn’t.
So, don’t watch it to learn anything about the show’s creators. Watch it for over an hour of largely-unseen video of some of the greatest rappers to come out of New York in the early 90s. It’s worth it for that, I promise.
When I was a kid, growing up in Central California, there was a series of PSA-type skits that were shown on TV. They were usually a minute long, and the two puppets who starred in these spots, Charley and Humphrey, related life lessons by example. Humphrey, a confident bulldog in a natty cap, would do something selfish or short-sighted, sure it would all turn out fine in the end, and his friend Charley, a horse wearing a captain’s hat (for no reason that was ever explained), would explain how it could go wrong.
And then, because learning, kids, what Charley foretold would come to pass, and Humphrey would be stuck trying to correct his mistake, while Charley rolled his eyes and broke the 4th wall to give the viewer his best, “You know better than that, right?” look and tell us the moral of the story.
Charley’s high horse was ever so high.
They stuck with me, and years later, I still remember this one verbatim:
What I mainly learned is that passive aggressive relationships are taught as the norm in so many more ways than we realize. The lesson of this episode isn’t just not to take things without asking — it’s that if you screw up, you’ll not only be in trouble for what you did wrong, you’ll also be soundly mocked by the people you thought cared about you.
I wonder about why Charley had to be right about everything, morally superior, certain he knew the rules and ha ha, Humphrey, told you so. I wonder if it was Charley who taught Humphrey that he had to take for himself because no one, not even his best buddy, would be there for him if he needed something (like a light to read by)… or if Humphrey grew up learning that lesson, and hung out with Charley because it wasn’t happy, but it was familiar.
I wonder if either Charley or Humphrey ever found someone else who loved them enough to teach them how to be caring, and kind, and thoughtful, without bullying them into it. Humphrey, at least, seemed genuinely upset when he did the wrong thing.
Charley — too wrapped up in the expectation that everyone else will see his inherent rightness and follow along with whatever he says — probably wouldn’t have changed. Humphrey wants to be loved, wants to do right, but Charley expects to be loved and seen as right, so he’s never really interested in Humphrey’s thoughts or feelings, only the appearance of being superior.
Poor Humphrey. I really do hope he found a better friend after all.
For most people, 2016 was a fucked up, miserable, factually terrible dumpster fire of a year. Icons died, racists thrived, and everywhere you looked, someone else was telling you not to be so upset, not to take it all personally, and not to worry because they were still getting what they wanted out of life, so that must mean you’re overreacting…
No, you’re not.
Icons matter because they tell us we live in a world where our aspirations are possible, and politics matter because the choices politicians make affects every bit of our existence, and racists matter because their willingness to be vocal and noticed in major ways means that a) racism never really left*, and b) they think society is swinging back to the old, oppressive, whites-first, straight people first, ablebodied people first, and especially, aggressively, men first, ways.
* I know it never left. That’s obvious to anyone who isn’t white, and to anyone who spends any time with and caring about people who aren’t white, or even actually listening to the white racist folks all around us. But a lot of well-meaning people convinced themselves that we were living post-racially, and need the reminder that the fight for equality, in this way especially, is not nearly over.
We need to see the awful, horrible, bits of 2016 so we can fight against them. Dismissing the people who are upset about this year because it’s not been horrible to you, yet, just means you have enough privilege to have avoided what a lot of other people are going through, and you’re a selfish jackass.
Recognizing that the world has been on fire doesn’t mean you can’t also appreciate the cool sips of water you manage to find in between the flames. Seeing and holding on to the good makes it possible to survive the bad, and maybe even fuel the fight against it. My 2016 has been hard not just for the larger, global reasons, but for very personal ones that mainly affect… just me. I struggled. I hurt. I was afraid, and I still am.
But… I found good in the year, too. In no particular order, here’s 10 things that got me through:
1. Arrival. I’d read the Ted Chiang story several times before, and the movie is not quite the story — which was itself, brilliant — but in its own way, as a translation of Chiang’s story (which is about, in part, translation)… it’s beautiful. It said things to me that I needed to hear. I got to see it just a few weeks ago, in a mostly-empty theater, at a Sunday matinee, with the love of my life, and it was a perfect couple of hours. It was a moment I needed very badly just then, and I’m so grateful I got it in exactly that way, with that person.
2. Destiny. Yes, the video game. I stumbled on the free trial at the beginning of December, found out a couple of writer/agent friends were also playing, and jumped in. I love it enough that I was given the full copy as a gift a week later, just because my happiness was obvious. The game is gorgeous, the voice actors are recognizable in a way that adds to the game (rather than distracting too much from it) and I’m good at it. When I do well, I get prizes. Yay!
I also like that it’s very mission oriented, which for me means that I can play through a mission or strike in about 20 minutes, and then I have to pause. I might have to go talk to someone to get the next mission, or turn in my engrams (they’re like… virtual carnival tickets) to get my loot, or dump stuff I’ve got too much of, but it’s a moment for my brain to think, “Ok, that’s done.” I play one mission, and then I go do other things. I’ve had favorite games before that easily lent themselves to day- or week-long binges, and if I did that with Destiny, I’d feel so guilty that it’d ruin the game for me. This is a self-indulgent fun that doesn’t interfere with me actually accomplishing things, and that’s exactly what I needed from it.
I need fun. Plus, the game devs have a lot of fun with the game. This trailer, for a new racing bike option in the latest update, is exactly what I mean.
3. The support of people I mostly know online. Other writers, fans of my fiction, students of my workshop, clients, and people who just like what I have to say have been a constant source of happiness this year. From virtual hugs to holiday cards to emails and tweets — it’s all a reminder that I am part of a larger community that cares about my well being and wants me to write more, to succeed in life. Even though I didn’t get out to any conventions this year, and won’t for at least part of next year; even though I don’t live in a big city, and often feel cut off from the writers I’ve gotten to know… I’m not entirely absent from their thoughts.
I appreciate you all, so much.
4. My son. I rarely post about him publicly because I generally think that’s a very bad idea, but I will say that he’s doing well. He’s taller than me now, which is something we’re both getting used to, and he’s trying to find his way through those awkward teen years that’d have been difficult even if he didn’t have a serious speech disorder and an an absent father and a mother who doesn’t make enough money to do much with him. He could be an angry, selfish, terrible kid… and he’s not. He struggles, but he learns, and he is kind when I need him to be, and he loves me without reservation. As hard as it has been to figure out what he needs and how to give it to him, and as much as I sometimes resent people who have it so much easier, I’m very lucky to have this particular child. He’s a good person, and I don’t ever want to let him down.
5. The Affordable Care Act. It saved my life.
6. My bullet journal. My person has been using this system for a couple of years. He would show it to me when I asked, but never pushed it on me. Never insisted it would change my life, or anything like that. It just worked for him, and he, quietly, like he does, went on using it. Earlier this year, I finally said, “I think this might work for me, too. Can you explain it to me?” Right after work, he came over with a new Leuchtturm 1917 journal book, and walked me through exactly how to make bullet journaling fit what I needed it to do. I’ve been using it ever since as a combination diary/to do list, and it’s helped me keep days sorted from each other, plus let me look back and see how much I really am getting done, on days where I feel like I’m slacking. I feel more organized and I’ve kept on top of things I know I’d otherwise have forgotten.
(Want to try it? Start here.)
7. Deciding on life plans for the next couple of years. We sat down a couple of times this year, and talked through what we all needed (he, and I, and us together, and us with my son) and outlined the future. I’m making some big changes, and following through on some old plans. Right now, life is still hard, especially financially, but if everything goes according to plan, that’s going to change soon enough. Where I am in a couple of years should be dramatically different from where I am now, and I can’t wait.
8. My ADHD medication. If you need help to keep your brain, or body, functioning, there’s nothing wrong with that. Everyone is different, and while celebrating our differences is important and good, it’s also okay to realize that some differences might be keeping us from living — or thinking — the way we want to. As much as it’s acceptable to get a cast put on a broken leg, it should also be acceptable to seek medication for a disorder like ADHD, if it’s serious enough to impact your daily life. In my case, having ADHD is like trying to juggle a dozen different thoughts at any given moment, and forgetting half of them when I try to focus on any one. With the medication, I can hold on to a train of thought for long enough to act on it, and I stop doing things like burning food I suddenly forgot I was cooking. It doesn’t give me super powers, but it makes a big liability into a small one, so rather than trying to run a marathon while also being chained to an anchor, I’m trying to run a marathon while also feeling a bit lazy and wearing uncomfortable shoes. Things become possible, but I still have to do the work. Which, I think, is fair.
9. My midnight trip to Columbus, OH. I snuck away to join my person in Columbus, OH, for a day of touristy reminiscing about where and how he lived when he was younger. It was my only real adventure this year, a sudden, spontaneous, whirlwind of travel that involved more time on a bus (there and back) than we were actually in Columbus, but it was totally worth it.
10. My partner, my buddy, my love, my person. He knows why.
I hope you had people and moments in 2016 that were worth remembering, even as we celebrate this year finally coming to an end.
After several months of working to build my freelance side gig into a reliable full-time business of my own, I was nearly to where I could at least pay my usual expenses without too much help, and on track to inch my way forward into financial stability. I was so close! I started making plans again. I felt hopeful, even with the rest of 2016 grinding us down.
On my birthday, at the end of November, I was mistakenly hit with a direct debit from my checking account for almost $1000. Because of that, I was hit with bank fees for everything that was paid out of my “overdraft protection” for the next two weeks, while I scrambled to make up the missing funds. I’ve done all of the paperwork and phone calls and I’m trying to get it back, but it turns out the payment — to my student loans — can be both accidentally taken and irretrievable at the same time. They’re investigating, they said, and I may get it back, in 90 days or so.
They’ll let me know.
Because of this, everything else fell apart, like I was juggling a dozen eggs and then someone sped up the music, until I couldn’t keep time with it anymore, and the pieces I was trying to balance suddenly crashed to the floor. I worked harder than ever, but it wasn’t enough, and ended the month with a cold that I am pretty sure was brought on by lack of sleep, and stress.
I don’t feel right yet, but I have to keep going.
Due to the unexpected financial problems I’ve had this month, I’ve decided not to attend any conventions until at least Fall 2018, or do any kind of travel. (This means I won’t be able to be at Boskone this February.)
I do miss everyone, and I do feel lonely and isolated here sometimes, since it’s just me and mine and we’re not tapped into the same kind of writing community I’ve gotten out of my FB/Twitter/convention relationships with other writers. But, as tempting as conventions are, I am still behind on rent and bills. I’m still worried every day, and that interferes with my work.
And, I’m not writing regularly because of all the stress — it turns out, I need to know my son is safe and my life is relatively stable before I can be “selfish” enough to write, since that’s a thing I do just for me.
I know me, though. I will get my money, my life, and my writing back on track, consistently. Then I can focus on getting back into the world.
I hope to see you all, out there, soon.
I have two short stories out this year that I loved and am proud of, for entirely different reasons, and which are also “award eligible”:
“That Lucky Old Sun” Apex Magazine, Issue 80. January 2016.
I started out the year with an appearance in a big, pro-rate, well-known, solidly genre magazine. I love that my first appearance with Apex ended up being a solidly genre story which still flips Golden Age conventions on its head.
I write a lot about the people on the edges of, or left behind after, more “traditional” SF tropes have taken place. This one tackles McCarthyism and atomic age SF — stories about nuclear war and rocket ships and fleeing dying planets for new worlds — by focusing on just one little girl, and her mother, and one day of their life together.
Most readers got what I was aiming for, calling it “a very chilling tale”, and “a sad, lovely, hideous, wonderful comment on human folly” so what else could I ask for? (You can read more reviews of this story here.)
Ok, maybe I also am enamored of this review, which said:
“And that the story follows a mother and her daughter on this day is bleak as fuck, but also I rather enjoyed it. There is something to be said about this, that this is where fascism leads, that this is where intolerance and bigotry lead,” and then suggested “it’s a wrenching story and a sad one, very much worth reading but maybe prepare some cat videos for the aftermath.” (I cut out the spoilers but the whole review is fabulous if you want to read it after you’ve read the story.)
This is a slightly strange, experimental, speculative fiction story set in the present (sort of), about parallel worlds, loneliness, and the nature of time. I loved being able to focus on details, to write about a woman truly living in the moment, and the fact that I got to extrapolate real science from a real math theorem that really exists.
I love math. And science. And writing science fiction that is solidly founded but still weird. Please take a look — you can also read this for free online — and let me know what you think.
A couple of other things I had published which you might have missed (but aren’t “award eligible”):
- “If Wishes Were Feathers” (original fiction) appeared in the Art & Words show, October 2016, along with “Myth of the Mother Snake” (reprint poem, link goes to original appearance).
- “Call Center Blues” (reprint) Luna Station Quarterly, September 1, 2016.
- “Tomorrow I Will Bury My Dream In The Dirt and Let It Go” (poem) Wordgathering, September 2016.
- Three SF haiku, Scifaikuest, May 2016 print issue and online.
And original work which is only posted here on my site:
- “It’s Lovely, Under the Stars” August 26, 2016.
- “Dachshunds from Mars” August 14, 2016
- “Getting To Know You” August 13, 2016
- “Diplomatic Relations With Angry Rabbits” August 12, 2016
- “Visitation of Irba” August 11, 2016
- “Ephyra” June 2016. (poem)
I hope you found something of mine that you enjoy. If so, please let me know in the comments!
I’ve been so busy with Cuinn Edits, for more than two months now, that I’m starting to think I may have successfully turned my part-time side gig into a real full-time job, after only 18 months of struggling and hustling and selling myself. Fingers crossed it stays this way! (Even if it means I haven’t had time to write or do much else. Step one is to get stable, financially. Then I can worry about how to take time off for me.)
I’m going offline from now into early December to finish the current slate of editing projects for clients that have already booked me, and to do some end of year business upkeep.
Email if you need me.
Two weeks ago, the votes were tallied — not completely, but enough for those who are generally right about these things to guess at where the votes would end up — and the election was called for Donald Trump, making him the presumptive President-Elect.
It took no time at all, not even a full day, for him to start using that position to line his own pockets, and for his alt-Reich supporters to come out in force, claiming his election as a victory of Nazism all across the land.
It’s pretty fucking hard, then, to look at Thanksgiving — a day when we traditionally celebrate that my white ancestors stole America from the indigenous population, by eating a giant turkey and a dessert made with orange squash — with any kind of thanks in my heart.
I’m not thankful that the President-Elect continues to treat his new position mainly as a way to make more money no matter who suffers, or that he’s appointing actual white supremacists, xenophobes, Islamaphobes, and homophobes to positions which mean that these vile, hateful, people will be making policies that affect all of America. I’m not thankful that centuries after we stole their land, the American government still can’t be bothered to treat Native Americans with the bare minimum of courtesy or respect, if there’s any way to gain by stealing from them again. I’m not thankful that of the hundreds of new reports of hate crimes across the country, the largest percentage is against immigrant children.
With all of this, what can I possibly be thankful for? What’s the point of being thankful at all? I think there is one, and it’s this: finding any joy at all, in these times, is a balm for the heart and mind. A day, or a moment, of peace and love refreshes us. So, if you have a reason to be thankful this week, go ahead. Enjoy it. Don’t feel guilty. Use it, the way we use sleep to energize us for the next day. Be armored by it. Be strengthened against what’s coming next. And when you’re ready, use that strength to keep fighting.
My thankfulness this week is that I have a bright, funny, healthy, beautiful child, who tries his best to navigate his disability, and who loves us. It’s that I have a brilliant and brave partner who’s just as committed as I am to standing up for what’s right. It’s that my family might be small, and far away from everyone else this time of year, but we’re together, and we’re good.
I wrote to the electoral college, as many have done this week, without any expectations. I know the outcome of the election won’t change. But raising our voices is not about invalidating the election — it’s about reminding the world and our fellow Americans that not everyone has given up. I’m not going to sit back, secure in my white privilege, to “wait and see” if Trump is really “all that bad”. I’m not going to throw anyone else under the bus in hopes that I get one or two things out of this Presidency that I wanted.
I can be polite. I can be diplomatic. I will not be silent.
My letter is pasted below.
I understand that you hold an honorable position as a member of the electoral college, and are in a state which allows you to vote, if necessary, against your individual state’s Presidential choice in order to secure the right President for our nation. I am writing today to ask you to do just that.
I have voted in 24 years worth of elections. Sometimes, the candidate I thought best won, and sometimes, they didn’t. Sometimes, I’ve been thrilled with the election results, and other times, I’ve been surprised at my countrymen’s choices. Never before, though, have I felt the need contact members of the electoral college and ask them to reconsider their votes.
Donald Trump as an individual, and the collected entourage and appointees that come with him, are a direct and immediate threat to our American way of life. Already, only a week after the elections, where Hillary Clinton has overwhelmingly won the popular vote, Mr. Trump has acted against the interests of the people by refusing to divest himself of his companies before making political appointments and decisions. He has acted against our citizens by putting his bank account ahead of the Presidency, both in vocally supporting business in which he has a stake, and in the very presence of his children in transition meetings, since they are going to be running the Trump empire. Mr. Trump’s appointees are grossly racist, including Steve Bannon, Lt. Gen. Michael Flynn, and Jeff Sessions. They are grossly homophobic, including Vice President-elect Mike Pence and Ken Blackwell. These men have long histories of advocating hate and fear, and are actively working to rescind the civil rights we have only recently made significant progress in applying to all people, equally. Given legitimacy by the election, Mr. Trump has already promised to do much more, and much worse.
Add to that the clear and admitted interference in our election by Russian agents, and Mr. Trump’s clear and admitted ties to Russia (a foreign government)… These are just the things we know about, can prove, and are admitted to by Mr. Trump and his team. This doesn’t include the vast number of things merely threatened by Mr. Trump and his team which may not be acted on for another 6 months or so, once it’s too late to stop him.
I don’t expect enough of you to change your vote that Mrs. Clinton would be elected President instead. It is my hope that enough of you stand up, now, in the face of overwhelming proof of the danger Mr. Trump would bring to our country, and say “no”. Even a few, even as a protest, your dissent would show that we will not give blanket acceptance to Mr. Trump’s regime. We will not normalize hate. We will not allow a con man to prey on our fears for his own profit.
Alexander Hamilton said that you and the other members of the electoral college are “most capable of analyzing the qualities adapted to the station, and acting under circumstances favorable to deliberation, and to a judicious combination of all the reasons and inducements which were proper to govern their choice.” I believe that, too. I appreciate and respect the role you serve in our electoral process. I am only asking for you to do exactly what your position was designed to do — defend our country against a demagogue who would make himself a tyrant and a king.
Thank you for your time and consideration.