Plato gives a dialogue between Ion and Socrates. Compared to other dialogues of Plato, this one is fairly straightforward, easy to understand. And you can clearly see Plato’s insanity from it.
My story, “Three O’Clock in the Morning” (“Las tres en punto de la mañana”), appears in Spanish in a new anthology, Otras Miradas, edited by Sergio Gaut vel Hartman.
Sergio is a science fiction writer and editor in Argentina. Among his many projects are two flash fiction blogs: Quimicamente Impuro, which consists of stories between 40 and 149 words, and Breves no tan Breves, stories between 150 and 750 words.
My story, “Statuary,” which is still available here on Book View Cafe, is now on Breves no tan Breves as “Estatuaria.”
More often than I’d like to tell I see manuscripts that read as if they were written for children, regardless of who the target audience is. Partly this is the result of what the writer chooses to tell the reader, partly it’s how the writer tells it.
Sample paragraph: Queen Amelia looked at the new ambassador. He looks familiar, she thought. What she didn’t realize was that the new ambassador was a disguised Lord Roberto.
“I am your new ambassador, Majesty,” announced Lord Roberto in his disguise.
What’s wrong with this perfectly grammatical set of sentences?
As the New Year starts, a lot of families are probably getting used to caring for the new pets that came to their homes over the holidays. Holiday times are the top time for families bringing pets home. Puppies, kittens, baby bunnies and baby chicks are all common holiday adoptions. Unfortunately, as breeders and real animal lovers know, in January and February, too many of these pets end up dumped at shelters, and very few of them are re-adopted. These animals are often euthanized, with short, unhappy lives – all things that could be avoided with time, care and planning. Even more serious than the problem of unwanted common domestic pets at the holidays is the growing trend toward adoption of exotic animals, from exotic hybrid cats to chimpanzees to sugar gliders, a small Australian marsupial that is rapidly growing in popularity.
I had a fairly large number of animals to take care of when I was growing up. I had a Shetland pony named Dapple, an English Setter named Freckles, a Siamese cat named D.C. and at one time, up to 25 ring-necked doves. When I was a baby and toddler, I learned to walk by hanging onto the head and ears of a very patient – one might say “saintly” – basset hound named Rebel. FYI, my pornstar name is Rebel Roberts. Not bad, huh? (To get your pornstar name, take the name of your first pet and use your mother’s maiden name). Continue reading
One of the most frequent questions we hear – after ‘where do you get your ideas’ – is ‘how do you manage to do all that? My response has always been to ask the questioner if they only work on one project or class or report at a time. 95% of the time the answer is ‘no.’ And there’s the answer right there – we multi-task the same way you do. But everyone does it a different way, proving once again that the proper way to write is What Works For You.
So, on this first Monday of the new year, for those of you who are trying to juggle work and life and writing, and starting to feel a bit overwhelmed, here’s a glimpse into how three members of BookView Cafe handle it. Continue reading
To be accurate, DR. ATOMIC is not a comic book, but a modern opera. However, the title fits in perfectly here, and there are no interesting comics this week anyway. It should be of interest to readers of this site, since the opera is about Robert Oppenheimer and the development of the atomic bomb in 1945. And for writers DR. ATOMIC is a great petri dish of plot and character.
Relentlessly highbrow, opera is arguably the reverse of comic books, and modern opera is tough sledding for nearly everbody with its atonality and lack of ‘a hummable tune’. DR. ATOMIC is exactly what you would expect an new opera to be — lots of singing. There are fascinating characters — physicists Oppenheimer and Teller, the General in charge of the bomb project, and many minor characters at Los Alamos. There is a story in there, about the development of the bomb — will it be a successful test? Will the explosion set off a chain reaction that destroys Earth’s atmosphere and all life? Will it ever quit raining so that we can launch, or will the wind sweep all the fallout the wrong way and depopulate New Mexico? Will the Japanese hear of the project, and by the way is it OK to drop the bomb on them?
NPR’s Weekend Edition Sunday let me rant about high-heeled shoes on the air this morning (Jan. 4) — an appearance that had nothing whatsoever to do with Book View Cafe or with fiction, but which did allow me to address a personal obsession of mine: Fashion that makes women vulnerable. Wearing high heels shifts your pelvis forward, putting you off balance. It’s hard to walk far in them, or to run at all. Basically, they limit what you can do, making you helpless in some situations.
Heels do make you look taller and there is a school of thought that says they make your legs look sexy. But those advantages don’t outweigh the fact that high heels handicap the wearer.
Enough ranting. I also want to announce that my Book View Cafe posting day for both stories and blog posts is moving to Thursdays as of this week. My next story,”God Bless,” a story that offers one solution to the problems facing us today, will appear on the front page Jan. 8.
We’ve had several contenders for the Bad Cover Contest, which I’ll post below the jump.
Writers bitch and moan all the time about the covers of our books. We always think we’d do better at picking covers. I had cover approval on one book in my career and it didn’t do me the least bit of good. I was supposed to see sketches, which never materialized, and I think I did a fairly lousy job of trying to explain to the artist how I saw the characters in the title story of the collection. One huge mistake I made was saying, “The narrator does not look like an armadillo.” Of course I should have told the artist what Dark does look like, because, also of course, what I got was an armadillo. Continue reading
Just Finished: HOUDINI, the Making of America’s First Superhero by William Kalush and Larry Sloman. Facinating look at the life of the great escape artist. Don’t think they really made their case that he was a spy.
Currently reading: EMILY POST, Daughter of the Gilded Age, Mistress of American Manners by Laura Claridge. Who knew Emily Post spent much of her childhood playing in the base of the Statue of Liberty as it was being constructed?
Beside the bed (an incomplete list):
EVIL GENIUS, by Catherine Jinks
BITTERLY DIVIDED, by David Williams
FILTER HOUSE, by Nisi Shawl
INFOQUAKE, by David Louis Edelman
What’s on your pile?
by Jennifer Stevenson
After swimming for two years every single day, I fell in love with a new sport: horseback riding. My husband and I began taking lessons at a hunter-jumper barn, which means they wanted me to sit on top of this enormous animal and then ride it at a fence and, presumably, go over the fence with the horse, staying on the whole time.
This terrified me, but I wanted it sooooo badly. Unlike swimming, riding is a high-impact sport—higher than I want it to be sometimes—and if I mess up, I might hurt the horse as well as myself. So the stakes went up significantly.
But many good things have come of my riding.