Canberra Zombie Walk
Spring has sprung and the time is ripe for the dead to rise (who, coincidentally, are also ripe).
If you’ve ever thought, “Why aren’t there more zombies in Canberra?” it’s time to take your place in the shuffling masses.
When: Saturday October 29
Meet at: The Civic chess pit (Garema Place) at 4:30pm
We’ll stagger along en masse until the shrieks of the public don’t thrill us any more, and then disperse.
YES you may invite your undead friends, family and partners (and give them my email address fellissimo at hotmail dot com).
YES you may mention the civic meeting place & time in psychotic-filled public forums such as facebook.
If you need assistance with makeup, let me know. I have an expert on hand, but you will need to book a spot with her and pay for materials.
Australian Steampunk
Yesterday’s steampunk panel was loads of fun. Myself, Dawn Meredith and Jane Virgo discussed the definitions of steampunk, why we love steampunk, and the little Australian steampunk that is now available (namely, Richard Harland’s “Worldshaker” series, James Roy’s “Ichabod Hart and the Lighthouse Mystery”, Margo Lanagan’s short story “Machine Maid” and a new book none of us have read yet which is called “Wanted: One Scoundrel, Jenny Schwartz”).
An audience member pointed out that no single work of steampunk has truly hit the mainstream in a recognisable way, and we agreed. Which means the market is still a living, vibrant thing – and there for the taking.
Unable to wear my corset, I went for more of a dieselpunk look – and grabbed the best-dressed audience member for this photo:
The audience member happened to be the renowned fantasy artist Marilyn Pride.
Conflux 7
Here is where I’ll be today, particularly at the steampunk panel at 2:30 (and there’s another steampunk panel on Monday). If you’re in Canberra, you can still come.
Middle Earth versus Narnia
I’ve just finished re-reading the seven-book Narnia series by C. S. Lewis*and I’m also an admirer of the Lord of the Rings trilogy by Tolkien. Around the time the Lord of the Rings movies came out, there were heated arguments at parties everywhere**about whether the Narnia series or the Lord of the Rings series is better.
I was going to begin a seven-week series of Narnia reviews today, but I’m JUST about to get my greasy mitts on “Goliath” by Scott Westerfeld, so I’ll review that in seven days’ time and then start on Narnia.
In the meantime, here’s a pre-review review:
CS Lewis and Professor Tolkien were close friends, part of a writing group called Inklings. Many members of the group were killed fighting in World War 2. Who knows what other books might have been written if the whole group had lived.
Leaving aside The Hobbit and all the other works by each author, there are some notable similarities and differences.
Both men were Christian, which is clear from reading their books if you’re into symbols (much, much clearer in Narnia’s Aslan character than in Middle Earth – in which the clearest parallel is the nature of Gandalf’s death). Both Lewis and Tolkien distrusted industry, and featured images of fighting trees (yay) and evil loggers (boo). Both wrote tales of high adventure, personal honour, and selfless sacrifice. Both featured heroes who were flawed but who could not be mistaken as anything but great heroes.
I believe that if the Narnia books were sent to a publisher by an unknown author today, they would be published.
I believe that if the Lord of the Rings books were sent to a publisher by an unknown author today, they would not be published. *gasp*
CS Lewis was writing in the 50s, so naturally women were not allowed to fight in the front lines (they could shoot arrows from the sidelines, but none ever wielded a sword), and baddies tended to be dark-skinned (or, in the case of the Black Dwarves, black-haired). However he has excellent heroic warlike female characters, and gracious and noble dark-skinned characters (Aravis is both).
Tolkien is infamous for having almost no female characters whatsoever, but he does mention (either in passing or in the Silmarilion) some truly awesome females – who fought in battles as well as any man. They did tend to be defined by the men they loved, which is a shame.
The true reason I think Lewis would be published today and that Tolkien would not is that first of all, Tolkien’s fantasy is for adults. Adult fantasy is simply harder to sell than children’s fantasy (and if we’re honest, it’s partly because adult fantasy fiction is just. . . long). But the main reason is that Lewis actually stuctured his Narnia books like modern books – starting with action/danger/conflict within the first few pages and never spending huge swathes of time on decription, rambling tangents, or – cosmic bunny save us – poetry. Lewis also has a brilliant eye for the tiny detail that makes a scene come alive.
Tolkien was predominantly a linguist – not a storyteller. I for one am grateful he was writing back when the market was quite different, and his books didn’t get rejected with the note “Needs editing”. As a modern reader (and I do read), I prefer the Lord of the Rings movies. I’m sorry, but it’s true. On the other hand, I understand that no writer in the past, present or future could create a world as rich and complex and fantastic as Tolkien did. I’m even a little glad that he didn’t get edited (as we all know, Tom Bombadil is largely irrelevent to the main plot, and would certainly be cut along with many other wonderful scenes, characters, and descriptions).
If I’m going to read a book, I pick Narnia every single time. I was pleasantly surprised this last week by how well written they are. No other classic books translate so well to the smart, focused modern reader.
And now I shall duck and cover as the argument continues.
In other news, one of my own books has been at a certain large Australian publisher for three years now. I have just discovered that the particular individual who I knew very well was holding things up has stopped working there. Which means there’s a small chance I’ll get a response in the next month or two, and a very good chance I’ll have a response in 6-12 months (ie the normal response time).
If I’d sent the book in via the slushpile, I’d have had an answer over two years ago. Kids, contacts in the biz aren’t always a good thing.
*Fun fact: The “C.S.” stands for “Clive Staples”. Abbreviation is sometimes a VERY good idea.
**This tells you exactly the kinds of friends I cultivate.
Baby Brain versus the Fuzz
I noticed the cop behind me when I glanced in my rear-view mirror. Sure I was speeding, but only a little. It’d be fine. Someone else’s car drove out of a street on the right too slowly, and I braked in a smooth and safe manner. Everything was going well.
The slow driver pulled up at a set of traffic lights, and I pulled up on their right, not wanting to continue driving behind them. I noticed the cop pulling up on my right (the turning lane) and felt the quiet relief that all upstanding citizens feel when the fuzz leaves the immediate vicinity.
Someone beeped. I looked at the car to my left, wondering if they were so stupid they thought I’d done something wrong. No; it wasn’t them. I glanced right. Surely the police weren’t beeping me? That was just silly.
OR WAS IT!?!?!?!
He beeped again, and motioned for me to wind down my window.
“Your registration sticker is out of date,” he said – in the usual copper monotone, just a shade deeper than the average male voice.
I looked at the lime-green sticker and then back at him, remembering a vague feeling of guilt back when the registration was due – such a long time ago. But I’d paid it – of course I had. “We’re definitely registered,” I told him.
“Pull up somewhere ahead so we can talk,” he said.
I nodded, and watched for the green light.
He followed after me with lights flashing until I pulled over onto the side of the road, wondering if pulling over onto the shoulder was illegal. Was it illegal sometimes, but not for an emergency? Was this an emergency? Should I keep driving until I found a better place to pull over – or would he think I was trying to make a hasty getaway?
I turned off the car and made as if to get out – the shoulder was narrow, and if he wanted to talk to me he’d have to stand in the road.
“Get back in the car,” he said.
I got back in the car, and turned the key so I could open the window (which is electric). The car alarm immediately went off, screaming at that piercing frequency so beloved by insomniacs everywhere. I fumbled for the alarm button, pressed it – nothing. That’s right: I had to turn the car off first.
I turned the car off. I turned the car alarm off with the button. I pressed the button again to de-arm the car. I turned the electrics on. I wound down the window. I switched off the car again.
“Your registration sticker has expired,” said the cop, ignoring my display of incompetence. “Is this your vehicle?”
“Yes,” I said. “But we paid. We always pay.”
“Wait here.”
He went and checked a database. I checked my scrawled notes at the back of my diary. “Car rego” was in my list of large expenses for the month of May – specifically, May 18th. I’d ticked it off, indicating that it had been paid. Thank the cosmic bunny I write everything down. That tick reminded me – the vague guilty feeling was because I’d paid it only one day before it was due – not allowing enough time for the new sticker to arrive before the due date. But the sticker should have simply arrived automatically in the mail. That’s what rego stickers do when you pay rego.
Apparently not this time. And it was more than just the sticker.
The cop returned.
“We paid,” I told him serenely, “on May 18th. Or a day or two before that.”
“According to the database, you are unregistered from that date.”
“Okay, so we have to prove we paid it. That shouldn’t be hard.”
“I’m very sorry about this, ma’am.”
“That’s all right,” I said, with the assurance of my tick-mark dancing before my eyes. “It’s not your mistake.” Or mine.
“Unfortunately I need to issue you with a traffic infringement until you’re able to prove that you paid. It will be for $1100.”
Yowser.
“You’ll need to send it in,” he said. “With that proof of your May payment.”
May, I thought. I was pregnant then.
How sick was I in May? All I remember is lying in bed trying not to vomit.
I did pay that bill. . . didn’t I?
“We won’t need to actually pay the fine, will we,” I asked him, “if we can prove we paid in May?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
“Unfortunately,” he said again, “because of our records, I can’t let you drive away until the car is registered.”
“All right,” I said cautiously. It was a sunny day, and I wasn’t going to work. I’d already taken a moment to SMS Mum and tell her I was stopped by the cops and thus running late. She was running late too, and asked if I was all right. I hadn’t had a chance to reply.
The cop gave me a number to call and pay three months’ rego over the phone. Since I don’t have a credit card, this meant calling CJ. CJ was mildly concerned that $780 was unaccounted for and that his pregnant and ill wife was in the custody of the police beside a road somewhere, but he paid the bill and relayed back the receipt number.
At that point, I was free to go.
At Mum’s place, I checked back in the day-to-day section of my diary (in which I write EVERYTHING because I know exactly how my mind works – or doesn’t) and discovered that I had “Car rego TOMORROW” crossed out on May 17 – a second indication that I had paid the bill. My system means that if something has a single line through it, it means I have dealt with it. It’s a good system.
When I went home, I found the bill itself in my filing cabinet, marked “Paid 16/5/11” in purple pen. I had literally kept my notes in triplicate. It was very easy from there to find the receipt number.
Baby Brain: 1
The fuzz: 0
The three things you need to buy
1. A car seat (or you can hire them, but you’ll need them for a long while to come).
If you want one that lasts from birth to four years, Choice says the best ones are the safe-n-sound compaq (though not the compaq delux) or the safe-n-sound meridian. The meridian features a variety of colours – praline, grey frost, navy and licorice. They are all grey. Welcome to the bizarre world of retail.
The compaq is significantly cheaper, but my father-in-law is
(a) extremely safety conscious, and
(b) paying
– so we bought the super ultra delux one.
2. A cot (secondhand is okay, assuming it’s up to standard – antique cots hugely increase the risk of SIDS and portable cots aren’t as safe either).
Choice recommends the childcare balmoral as the best buy (it’s hard to find, but Big W theoretically stocks it). We bought the tasman eco siena (still recommended by Choice, but more expensive – only marginally more expensive, thanks to my complicated schemes and bargaining). My obsessive bargaining meant we were able to choose a light wood colour, and have curved ends. All the child-safe cots look extremely similar, but the wrangling gave me such a sense of power it was definitely worth it.
See? Pretty!
NB: Speaking of SIDS – remember to get a mattress that fits, to use NO pillows or cot bumpers (or toys in the cot), and to lie the baby on their back close to the feet end.
We happen to have a bassinet, but some experts recommend putting a baby in a cot from birth.
Most cots convert into a toddler bed. This one also converts into a sofa. How cool is that?
3. Nappies (or I guess if you have a friend who used the re-useable ones you could take those secondhand too).
Choice (and everyone else in the world with a newborn) recommends Huggies newborn nappies (the pertinent phrase is “They catch more than the rest. . . almost always all of it”) but Choice also says that the much-cheaper Woolies select crawler is almost as good, but a whole lot cheaper.
Congratulations! You are now an expert on the best brands to buy.
I’m feeling pretty efficient (and pleased with myself) now we have a car seat and cot. My nausea is largely okay as long as I’m careful. Yesterday I was able to ride our exercise bike for a total of ten minutes, which bodes very well.
Tomorrow: an incident with the fuzz.
Picnic in the park
There is a park near our house, so CJ and I carried a picnic blanket, food, and an Ana over for a lazy lunch.
The ants arrived with impressive speed, and we knew our picnic was complete.
Little did we know, nature had far more in store for us.
Ana is a stone-cold killer and all the wildlife in our area knows it. Look at her cute and murderous eyes!
At first she was nervous of the open spaces all around, but she quickly recovered and decided to pursue a bird she spotted in this tree.
That was when things got interesting. The bird was a young magpie. Two others immediately swooped in to cordially suggest that Ana desist from her attentions. She ran and hid in a bush (you can just see her face on the right).
Taking a hint is not, however, Ana’s forté. So she bade her time, and then launched herself back at the tree like a demented koala:
She’s not actually good at climbing trees, so CJ and I took pictures between giggles as she jumped from branch to branch, pausing only to flail helplessly (much like all those “hang in there” kitty posters you all have on your walls).
Its protectors didn’t bother returning.
At which point we plucked Ana from the tree before she hurt herself, and went home.
Versatile Blogger Award
I am, according to General Happenings in my House, hereby awarded a Versatile Blogger award! Thank you 🙂
My duties, upon receiving this much-coveted honour, are as follows:
1) Thank the awarder by linking back to their blog;
2) Pass on this award to 15 recently discovered blogs and let them know I have done so;
3) List 7 things about myself.
Here are some great blogs (in no particular order):
1) Ripping Ozzie Reads – an accomplished group of Australian specfic writers (including Richard Harland, Rowena Cory Daniells, and Margo Lanagan) share their know-how.
2) Pub Rants – pub as in “publishing”. This is the blog of a US agent – again, lots of great advice.
3) KT Literary blog – another US agent (in fact, she is friends with # 2).
4) Nathan Bransford – US ex-agent and children’s author (again with the advice). He also runs great forums.
5) The Intern – this time it’s a US ex-intern, but her advice is still excellent (more on writing, less on the industry).
6) Behler Blog – this time it’s a US editorial director giving free industry help.
7) Writer Beware – there are a LOT of scams out there designed to prey on writers. This blog investigates, then tells the horrible truth.
8) Call My Agent! – more industry advice, but this time from an anonymous Sydney agent.
9) Terrible Minds – advice, interviews, and very rude rants from author Chuck Wendig.
10) Slushpile Hell – when a writer needs a little more sarcasm in their day.
11) Brass Bolts – a steampunk writer blogs about steampunk (the pics are especially good).
12) Trial by Steam – steampunk articles and events.
13) Multiculturalism for Steampunk – a seriously excellent and well-researched steampunk niche blog.
14) Antipodean Steampunk Adventures – an Australian steampunk who actually builds his own stuff.
15) Blue Milk – a feminist blog on motherhood (not always safe for work).
Well! That list certainly answers the question, “So, Louise, what do you do all day?”
Now for seven things about myself:
1) Umm. . . I attempted my first novel when I was seven years old (it was about a family of cats – naturally).
2) My mum read the Narnia series in hospital after giving birth to me (I’m re-reading it at the moment).
3) I speak semi-fluent Indonesian, and once considered marrying an Indonesian man I was close to.
4) I leave the curtains open until dark most nights in case the sunset is pretty.
5) Only one of my grandparents is still alive, and he is not well.
6) I can juggle.
7) I have pre-ordered “Goliath” by Scott Westerfeld; the third book in his brilliant YA steampunk trilogy (“Leviathan” is the name of the first book).
Thank you and good evening!
Ballooning adventure
I have been re-reading “The Aeronauts” by Time/Life books. It is a stunning book with a padded cover and brilliant colour inside. Too lazy to open the lid of the scanner, I’ve photographed it:
The following is taken from a first-hand account of the first successful crossing of the English channel by air – somewhat before steampunk times, since it happened in 1784 (but entirely within the realm of clockpunk). It went well at first, but then the intrepid pair of adventurers realised they were losing altitude in a manner that could soon prove fatal. Like all balloonists, they responded by throwing things overboard (NB: Blanchard, the captain, was a very short man).
“My noble little captain gave orders, and set the example,” Jeffries wrote, “by beginning to outstrip our aerial car, first of our silk and finery.” Over the side went the oars, the propeller, and two anchors, “after which my little hero stripped and threw away his coat. On this I was compelled to follow his example. He next cast away his trousers. We put on our cork jackets and were, God knows how, as merry as grigs to think how we should spatter in the water.” But the lightened gondola now rose again, and at 3 p.m., “almost benumbed with cold,” they were thrilled to see the French shore beneath them.
A half hour later, the balloon again began to descend, this time threatening the balloonists with a crash landing in a forest about 12 miles inland. This time they threw out their cork life jackets. When that had little effect, Jeffries suggested an imaginative expedient: “From the recollection that we had drunk much at breakfast and not having had any evacuation,” he reported delicately, “an extra quantity had been secreted by the kidneys, which we might now avail ouselves of by discharging.” They did so, filling two containers and dropping them over the side. A couple of pounds lighter, the balloon cleared the edge of the woods and Blanchard landed it in a small clearing. We were “almost as naked as the trees,” wrote Jeffries, with “not an inch of cord or rope left, no anchor or anything to help us, nor a being within several miles.” The only objects that remained in the car were Jeffries’ thermometer and barometer, a bottle of brandy and a packet of letters; history’s first airmail had arrived in France.
Blanchard pulled on the valve line, venting enough gas to collapse the balloon. Then the scantily clad aeronauts settled back to await rescue – and fame.
This is an artist’s rendition of the aeronauts setting off from Dover. The sail at the back is entirely fictional, although the (non-useful) oars really did exist.
If you enjoyed this entry, you’ll probably enjoy this one even more – it has accounts of more adventures aloft, including my own.
Make me care
A story needs two things: An interesting character, and a serious problem.
“Interesting” and “serious” are where it gets more complicated.
Here is an article on how to make your reader care about your characters (by giving them a reason to care before the action explodes on the page). If they don’t care, they won’t read on.
Some other day I’ll talk about how to make readers care FAST – before you lose them. I reckon you’re lucky if you get two hundred words.
Felicity Banks 