I was going through some of my old LJ entries and realized that I for some reason f-locked a kind of fanfic for Veronica Mars. I had my reasons at the time, I suppose, though lord knows I can't remember them. In any case, if for whatever reason that sort of thing interests you, I have now made the post public. It's a script-format fic/alternate beginning of season three.

http://utsusemia.livejournal.com/9279.html

She looked me over and I guess she thought I was all right
all right in a sort of a limited way for an off night

Memories of listening to this album a hundred thousand times while bicycling down the obstacle course of Kyoto sidewalks. In the afternoon after school, in the morning during rainstorms and windstorms that plastered me pink and white with cherry blossoms, in the late night after the subway had closed and I still had to climb a mountain to get home. I can't stand on a bicycle-- I can't whistle or blow bubble gum bubbles or blow balloons either-- and what that really meant was that I developed remarkably strong thigh muscles and envied the women who sped past me in mini-skirts and stiletto snakeskin boots.

Don't get me wrong, I like that Vampire Weekend album, but fuck did Paul Simon do it better.

I grew up with Time Life CDs-- the kind sold on late-night infomercials as a one-a-month subscription. My mom loved television shopping-- ginsu knives, EZ Pasta Makers, Juiceman Juicers, commemorative plates-- they arrived on our doorstep and mouldered in our garage, with only the barest attempt to use them in between. But it was different with the music. The subscription she bought was called The Roots of Rock, and I still get a frisson of joy when I see that distinctive, stylized luridly-colored art depicting the musicians. Buddy Holly, Chuck Berry, James Brown all graced their own albums, and we would play them on weekends until my sister or my brother or I lost the precious sparkling disc or scratched it beyond repair. But the one I remember the best, the one I treasured, was The Supremes. I loved Diana Ross with all my soul. All I had to do was hear the opening chords of “I Hear A Symphony” to let out a shriek that could be heard on the other end of the house. My sister and I made up dances to “Stop in the Name of Love” and “You Can't Hurry Love.” We sang with Diana and then argued who should sing back-up. We played it in the kitchen while my dad tried to teach me how to hand dance (Stiff arms, Alaya! No, not that stiff. Hey, remember the beat? Out, middle, in, okay now I'll twirl you...let's try that again.)

I still can't hand dance very well. I still make my dad practice with me every summer vacation.

I grew up hearing people refer dismissively to Diana Ross' singing, but I never understood it. I loved her voice. Maybe it wasn't as strong as Aretha Franklin's or Martha Reeves's but, it had this winsome, earnest quality that worked so well with her material. If a man did her wrong, she didn't tell him to pack his shit and leave, she called him her “Baby Love.”

I need you, oh how I need you / But all you do is treat me bad / Break my heart and leave me sad / Tell me, what did I do wrong

This isn't exactly the dialogue of a forward-thinking feminist, but that doesn't make the way Diana sings it less poignant, less earnest, less painfully realistic. She cradles her notes, she doesn't power through them, and I think that was part of what made The Supremes the girl group of the sixties.

This is a semi-live performance of Diana Ross and the Supremes doing one of my favorites: Reflections. You've got to love that spooky space-age warp-drive at the beginning. What is that doing in an R&B love song? Just awesome.

Yes, it's (another) fanfic. Sigh. I'm posting it on my own journal this time because that seems easier.


( fanfic is a legitimate form of creative expression )

I came up with an idea for a long-form Mafia-like game that people could play at a convention. As I am always about a hundred times more enthusiastic about stuff like this than, uh, any of my friends, I have my doubts that I could find enough interested people to pull this off. But if anyone on my f-list (or just stopping by) is planning to attend Readercon, Worldcon or World Fantasy and is even the teeniest smidge interested in participating, please oh please let me know! I love the idea of long-form games of political intrigue/spying. I can't be the only one!

The rules look long and weirdly complicated at first, but I promise that's just because I wanted to make sure I didn't miss any details. I personally don't think it would take too long to explain them.

( my ridiculous game )

Before I forget,  PodCastle has posted an audio reprint of my Strange Horizons short story, Shard of Glass.

(For the curious, this is the story that prompted a certain reviewer to dismiss it because they figured I was bi-racial like the main character. Which I am not. I wrote about the experience for the Angry Black Woman a while back).

It's read beautifully by my lovely co-member of Altered Fluid, N. K. Jemisin. If you didn't catch it the first time (in 2005!) you can hear it now.

and found this.

I know. I swear I'm not writing any more. Shut up.

(It's called "Five Ways Ruby Told the Truth." Seriously, I cannot believe that I did this. Fanfic: it's a drug.)

and am having a mini-fit on my couch. HOLY FUCK, SHOW! What's this feeling? That "oh my god there's no way I can wait two months for another episode I might have to start reading fanfic like it's methadone" feeling? Oh, hi Veronica! Meet Sam and Dean.

( spoiling )

Hola, mis amigos! Due to the week of Wiscon insanity (oh, how I loved that convention), I completely forgot to mention to you that my friend and fellow Altered Fluid member, Kris Dikeman, has a story in this year's top ten finalists for the Million Writers Award. Not only is this a great, amazing tale (a crossroads story from the POV of the devil's dog), but you can vote for it and help genre fiction represent in the top three.

Here's a link to the original piece in Strange Horizons.

If you liked it, or you just wouldn't mind doing me a favor, please go and vote for her!

That is all. I would do a con report, but I don't do con reports, so suffice it to say that I had great conversations with tons of amazing people and have left Wiscon feeling all stimulated and creative. Which is, I think, the best thing a con can do for you.

So, I'm an assistant editor at the awesome Sybil's Garage, which has announced its sixth issue today. And can I just say, this issue contains some amazing works of fiction. You should check it out:



And if you're going to Wiscon, you can buy it there.

Seasons one and two of Supernatural, that's where.

I've just got to say, friends, I don't know if it's me, the show, or both, but this is an obsession like nothing I have felt since Veronica Mars. Which, given how much I need to write this year, makes me feel a combination of happy and OMGSOFUCKED.

That's all. Back to the writing.

(For those of you thinking: what the hell? Well...yeah. I could write a long discourse about all the things I think the show excels at-- to make up for certain questionable decisions-- but yeah. Obsessed fan-writing is pretty much never fun for anyone except other obsessed fans, so I'll keep it inside.)

So I'm talking to Scott. The conversation goes something like this:

ME: So...I have this story idea. It's an alternate history of the united states. Where there's lots of megafauna.

SCOTT: Megafauna? 

ME: Like...big animals.

SCOTT: What sort of big animals?

ME: Like giant sloths the size of dinosaurs and terror birds. They used to be on this continent.

SCOTT: Really? Neat. But they all died before humans?

ME: No...not really. Actually, in real life, Native Americans crossed the Bering Land Bridge and then sometime later all the big animals died off. But that's not the story idea.

SCOTT: It isn't?

ME: No, no. The idea is that no humans ever crossed the land bridge and so there are no Native Americans but there are lots of megafauna and then Europeans--

SCOTT:  I thought you said there were no humans?

ME: No, there's white people. Just no Native Americans.

SCOTT: And the white people...

ME: They colonize America. Like before. Just with big animals. It's a pioneer story.

SCOTT: ...

ME: So, what do you think?

SCOTT: ...why not just write a story about what happened when the real first people met the big animals? Your way seems a little...artificial.



Scott can be tactful when he wants to be ;)
 

This is the new cover art for book 2/The Dread Novel/The Burning City. I am a fan ;)

So, I bought a new computer (half of it was a birthday present). And it came with Vista. For a few days, I screwed around with Vista, hoping that I could just get used to it and maybe it wasn't as slow and terrible as everyone kept telling me. Eventually, I realized that it was just as slow as the four year old laptop I replaced, despite the fact that this new computer has 4 gigs of memory, compared to the other's paltry 512 megs. My options seemed to be either install XP and see if I can hunt down the drivers or...

Install Ubuntu.

Somehow, installing Ubuntu seemed like the better option. I have now gone for the whole Linux enchilada, without a friendly windows dual boot to help me out if I get scared. And I am scared! I would have dual booted with Vista, except that program is so evil it absolutely wouldn't let me. So far, after hours and hours spent downloading and tweaking and having Fun! With! The! Terminal!, I have made this computer pretty great. I have gotten Word to work in a windows emulator so I don't have to deal with my endless Open Office frustrations. I have downloaded lots of neato open source software from what must be the coolest feature of Ubuntu: the available program boutique. I even programmed my own shortcuts that turn off the trackpad so it doesn't get in my way when I type!

But now, something's come up. I don't know if it's Ubuntu or Firefox 3.1, but absolutely none of my online music programs will work! Not Rhapsody, not Pandora...they won't load. It's very confusing, and there's almost no help online telling me how to solve it. I have a lot of mp3s, but I'm not sure how long I can last just with them. I need streaming audio...right...now...

Okay, yeah, sorry about that. Going to take a long shower and read a book or something.

ETA: I got it to work!! Sanity is saved! The fix was very...odd. I got it off of the adobe flash FAQ, of all places. For some reason, the flash plugin that comes in the Ubuntu package doesn't work very well. The one you can download from Adobe works much better. So I just uninstalled Ubuntu's version and...voila.

Just so you know. Since I've had a remarkable number of people interested in my health for the last few days ; ) I have never felt healthier. Not a sniffle, not a sneeze, my temperature is a perfect 98.6 and I have been back from Mexico, now, for a full week. The swine flu has an incubation period of 3 days, so I think I'm in the clear.

I figured getting anonymous inquiries into my health on my LJ was a sign I needed to make a public announcement or something.

So, I'm back from Mexico City. It was sunny and warm and beautiful and delicious there, and here it is cold and rainy a little sad-making. However, I will return! It was an amazing trip and I learned so much about the Aztecs and the other pre-Hispanic cultures. I started writing my book and I can't wait to do more work on all of this. Honestly, I'm probably going to go back, because Mexico is so astonishingly awesome and because there are so many ruins I did not see. I haven't climbed every cliff near the D.F., after all ;)

I will probably write something more formal and informative about the whole experience, but for now I will leave you with this video, utterly non-Aztec related, of some amazing dancing I saw in a park right next to the Balderas metro station. People dress up in their finest duds and dance like mad in this park on Saturday. The really good people do it under the tents for all to see, and others go a bit away to practice and/or learn the moves. So amazing. I could have done this all day, but I needed to see more Aztec artifacts.




And for what will probably be my last Mexico post, I should post a link to the Speculative Literature Foundation, who sponsor the grant that allowed me to go on this incredible trip. If you can, consider supporting them-- in addition to the travel grant, they also give out an Older Writer's Grant and a program that sends donated used computers to writers in need.

Yesterday, we visited Iztapalapa. I mentioned this earlier as the place where they have the scarily realistic passion play. So I read an offhanded mention in the guidebook about how the hill where they have it (Cerra de la Estrella) was also a sacred site of the Aztecs, and there are some ruins around there. So, guidebook in hand, Lauren and I set off to find these ruins. People barely have any idea what I'm talking about. We see the site of the passion play and then a tiny little road that looks like it goes further up the hill. In the distance, it looks like the mountain towers above the city. I think: "could it possibly be way up there?" So we start hiking up this road in this cute little town where everyone must have thighs of steel because oh my god is it steep. The road, by the way, was called San Pedro, and that's where you should go if you want to find the ruins. We pass by this incredibly delicious bakery called Maria Pan, which sold us a sweet eggy pie pastry and a fresh-baked donut (Oh, the smells!) for nine pesos. I had to have her repeat the price, I was so surprised. Street food, how I love thee. Anyway, a half hour of exhausted mountain hiking later, and after asking a very helpful old shop owner (good to know: the word for "ruins" in Spanish is..."ruinas." Heh.) we finally arrive at a museum, of all things. The museum was actually amazing, with all of these perfect dioramas of the Aztec rituals that would have been performed there. I took lots of photos, mostly for clothing references. Anyway, turns out the ruins are another hundred million miles up in the burning noon sun.

Things I have learneda bout the Aztecs: they must have all had the calf and thigh muscles of Olympic sprinters, because they seemed to love building things a) at the top of mountains, b) up thousands of stairs that feel like a mountain or c) both.

( further random observations )

Day one, Ciudad de Mexico, in pictures:

( las photos )

I cannot keep this inside any longer.

I HAVE BLURBS!!

And oh boy, are they blurbs. I am so excited to have these awesome writers' comments on my book, I cannot even tell you. Here's three:

“In MOONSHINE, Alaya Johnson's gripping, fast moving story, vampire gangs are prowling the Lower East Side of 1920s New York.  They are no match for her spunky, likeable and very human heroine, however.  Historical accuracy smoothly blends with outrageous fantasy: Gangs of New York meets True Blood!”

--Rhys Bowen, author of A Gilded Cage, 8th Molly Murphy Mystery

"Alaya Johnson's MOONSHINE packs a wallop! I hope Zephyr Hollis's adventures have only begun. I want more!"

-- Emma Bull, author of Territory and War for the Oaks

"Vampires in 1920s New York, a street-smart heroine, a flawed and mysterious lover-- in Moonshine, Alaya Johnson remixes them into a many-cultured thriller with wit and heart and compassion.  Johnson's Zephyr Hollis is a tender-hearted stunner of a heroine, and her supernatural New York is a page-turning delight, with bicycles and enchanted blades, drug wars and settlement evening schools, romance and heartbreak. Move over, Buffy and Anita, and make room for Zephyr Hollis!"

-- Sarah Smith, author of The Vanished Child

That's me, gibbering with happiness in the corner. OH MY GOD, ARE THESE REALLY MINE?!

Standing offer to my friends list: if you would like to read the first few chapters of this book, leave a comment. Whenever the galleys come in, I'd like to give some copies away, but for now I can just offer electronic previews.

ETA:  Clarification about reading the first three chapters. Comment here or just go ahead and friend my alter-ego, zephyr_hollis . Once I add you as a friend, you will be able to read the chapters. Thanks!

I have just watched half of the first episode of Legend of the Seeker, and I only have one question:

Why is it that Dark Lords always command hordes and hordes of willing minions, when they slaughter said minions at the slightest infraction? Can the getaways in the Fantasy Rivera really be that great? Is there killer life insurance? Wouldn't it be in a dark lord's, I don't know, managerial interest to give progress reports, performance reviews, incentives for getting better? At the very least, why doesn't the hapless third in command who's watched Darth Vader/Darken Rahl/Sauron mind-squeeze his previous two bosses graciously decline their generous promotion?

In real life, when evildoers fuck up, they get multi-million dollar pensions and sinecures at the head of centrist think tanks.