The razor sharp teeth of love

7 September 2008 | Leave a Comment

John Scalzi’s daughter draws better than I do.

Thank you, Athena, for brightening up my Sunday. Love makes most of us feel like poop sometimes, but here’s hoping it never happens to you.

Posted by Kelley | Filed Under blog 

Let’s talk about short stories

6 September 2008 | 4 Comments

A while back, Tania Hershman, editor of The Short Review, published a review of Dangerous Space that I appreciated for two reasons. First, because she liked the stories (I am not immune to this, says the writer with a smile). And second, because she did not come to them as a fan of speculative fiction: her perspective was that of an avid reader and writer of (what I would call mainstream) short stories. She crossed genre lines to read my work, and discovered that, like the mainstream, speculative fiction is a big space with room for many different kinds of story, many different kinds of reader.

Tania talks about this over at Vulpes Libris in a guest article that I recommend to anyone interested in the writing, publishing, reading and general vitality of short fiction. There’s also a good discussion in the comments, including remarks by a reader whose resistance to short stories is grounded in the common experience of (rant alert! rant alert!) the kind of short stories that pass for “real literature” these days. You know the ones I mean. You can read them every week in The New Yorker. They are precious and self-conscious and all about the writer’s voice. They are often dreary beyond belief. They revolve around characters whose purpose is to be small in some way — trapped and fearful, or hapless, or so quirky that it makes my teeth ache — and to stay small, because that’s how we know that the story is “meaningful.” I choose the word revolve carefully, because these stories are designed as collections of beautiful phrases that turn in stately (or in carnival) fashion around the “idea” of the character, around the “theme” of the story…. oh, please shoot me now. No wonder readers complain: even those whom the literati would characterize as “unsophisticated” (a word that just makes me want to howl in rage when applied to readers — hello, Ms. LitSnob, these people are reading!) can tell when they are being fed 5,000 words of self-indulgent bullshit whose deepest message is look how well I write!.

I want more than that. I want stories of people who feel so real to me that I hurt and hope and laugh with them, so real that they carry me out into a wider world, or deep into myself. I want writing that is so good it isn’t even there, writing that is not a performance but a bridge, a transporter beam, a mainline to the heart of the story.

Okay, rant off. For now.

I’m grateful to Tania for her passionate support of short work of all kinds. One of the grandest things about the InterWeb is that there is room for so much more than there used to be — more opinion, more art, more stupidity, more curiosity, more silliness, more difference. More connection, if we want it.

And certainly for more story, which is nothing but good.

I’m especially pleased today to point you to a couple of those stories. Sarah Kanning is a writer who generously gave a lot of time and words-in-email to a stranger (me) to help with background for my Kansas book. Sarah’s first fiction sale “Sex With Ghosts” is up at Strange Horizons.

And Karina Meléndez, who frequently comments on this blog and is currently translating Dangerous Space (the writer bows in the direction of Canada), has “The Sound of Morning Glory” up at Joyland.

Congratulations, Sarah and Karina, and my best wishes for many more stories out in the world.

I’ve been writing stories since the days when there were only a few print publications that would publish “that sci-fi stuff.” These days are better.

Posted by Kelley | Filed Under blog, writing 

Friday pint

5 September 2008 | Leave a Comment

Every Friday I transfer posts here from the Virtual Pint archives.

A beautiful hanging-onto-summer day in Seattle. Enjoy these little flashes of the past.

Enjoy.

Posted by Kelley | Filed Under blog, virtual pint archives 

No matter what

4 September 2008 | 9 Comments

It’s our 15th wedding anniversary. Nicola wrote about it today and posted some pictures, and as she showed them to me last night we had the inevitable god, we were young conversation. So predictable (grin), and so amazing to have that kind of predictability in my life. I never expected it. I did not see her coming, this fascinating person with whom I can mark milestones and drink wine and laugh and cry and talk and talk and talk about the changes that come to us all if we live long enough.

As she says in her post, we have no matter what engraved inside our rings. Of all the promises we have made to each other, that’s the fundamental one. No matter what happens, no matter how we change and grow, no matter what we need to do, how we fuck up, whether we always understand each other or like each other’s choices… well, we are Kelley and Nicola no matter what.

No matter what is the biggest responsibility I’ve ever taken on, and the biggest safety net I’ve ever had. And that’s the real trick, isn’t it? When something is both the challenge and the reward.

Nicola and Kelley, 1992
Nicola and Kelley, 1992

photo by Mark Tiedemann

Posted by Kelley | Filed Under blog, life 

Get busy

3 September 2008 | 2 Comments

The best novella I know is “Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption” by Stephen King. It was made into a brilliant movie, but the novella is even better.

It’s about hope. I talk a lot about hope, mostly in ambivalent ways. But perhaps I am coming to some conclusions. Perhaps there are different kinds of hope, like mushrooms, some that are truffles and some that will kill you dead.

“Shawshank” is the most comprehensive, brutal, joyful examination I’ve ever read of the different kinds of hope. The hope like a rattlesnake you keep insisting makes a really good pet until it bites you hard and then coils away looking for its next meal. The hope that is indistinguishable from fear. The hope that relies on magical thinking, if only… And there is the hope that is the first cousin of will, that sees you to the end of a long hard road.

When I was learning to swim, the instructor would step back ten feet from where I clung to the edge of the pool, and hold out his arms, and smile: swim to me, he would say, and I would throw myself out and gasp and thrash and paddle like hell, and he would step back and back and back, and I had to keep going. But he was always there at the end. That is perhaps the only hope that has ever really done me any good, the hope that makes me willing to keep swimming because there will be something at the end that is risk rewarded, that is safety and triumph and relief and a new kind of knowledge of myself and the world. Not if only, but rather if I do…

Dear Red,
 
If you’re reading this, then you’re out. One way or another, you’re out. And if you’ve followed along this far, you might be willing to come a little further. I think you remember the name of the town, don’t you? I could use a good man to help me get my project on wheels. Meanwhile, have a drink on me — and do think it over. I will be keeping an eye out for you. Remember that hope is a good thing, Red, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies. I will be hoping that this letter finds you, and finds you well.
 
I didn’t read that letter in the field [... ] I went back to my room and read it there, with the smell of old men’s dinners drifting up the stairwell to me — Beefaroni, Rice-a-Roni, Noodle Roni. You can be that whatever the old folks of America, the ones on fixed incomes, are eating tonight, it almost certainly ends in roni.
 
I opened the envelope and read the letter and then I put my head in my arms and cried. With the letter there were twenty new fifty-dollar bills.
 
And here I am in the Brewster Hotel, technically a fugitive from justice again — parole violation is my crime. No one’s going to throw up any roadblocks to catch a criminal wanted on that charge, I guess — wondering what I should do now.
 
I have this manuscript. I have a small piece of luggage about the size of a doctor’s bag that holds everything I own. I have nineteen fifties, four tens, a five, three ones, and assorted change. I broke one of the fifties to buy this tablet of paper and a deck of smokes.
 
Wondering what I should do.
 
But there’s really no question. It always comes down to just two choices. Get busy living or get busy dying.
 
–from “Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption” by Stephen King
 

Posted by Kelley | Filed Under blog, quotes, reading 

Bookend Bowie

3 September 2008 | Leave a Comment

Today Nicola brings you a little musical politics (and I’m afraid the musical chairs analogy may be more apt for this election than I’d wish). Yep, I’m worried about McCain too… but all I could really think when I watched the video was damn, David Bowie has got it going on.

I’ve always thought this show at the BBC Theatre in 2000 was awesome. I love the early Bowie — Low, Aladdin Sane — and I love this Bowie too, who seems so much more comfortable in his own skin. I love watching experts at work. And I thought, really, can there ever be too much good music let loose into the blogosphere? So here you go — “Hallo Spaceboy”. Charismatic people playing fantastic music and having so much fun. Wander on over to Ask Nicola for more.

Posted by Kelley | Filed Under blog, music 

Cherchez les naked folks

2 September 2008 | 8 Comments

Here are some of the keyword searches that brought people to my site in August.

  • Naked people photos, people naked in public, naked beach people, beautiful naked people, happy naked people, real naked people….
    If I had a dollar for every person who came here looking for pictures of naked people, I could buy that Mac we’ve been wanting.
     
    And here’s a thing…I just googled “real naked people” out of curiosity to see how many hits there were. There were 1,170,000 (yep, 1.7 million hits) — and my blog post about naked people is number 6. Why? I don’t know. It’s a mystery.
     
    It’s interesting that so many of us want to see naked strangers. Perhaps these searchers are all life studies art students (hah, probably not). Are we in search of sexual fantasy material? Are we curious how our bodies compare to others? Do we admire these naked people, lust after them, want to be them, or maybe just want to get a look at what it’s like to lie in the sun in nothing but our own skin…
     
    Best naked people searches: naked people high (sounds great!), forced to go nude at beach (not so great… embarrassment and sunburn!) and — I swear — as naked as when one was born in a state of nature in one’s skin in the nude nude. That one pretty much covers all the bases.

  • become invisible nobody can see you, sorry we thought you were invisible, what would i do if invisible…
    A dollar for each of the invisibility crowd would certainly get me an iPod. I would have suspected at least one homework assignment in there except that it’s August…
     
    The winner in this category: how to know if someone is invisible. I keep trying to imagine where this question comes from or where it’s going…

  • cats
    Just for grins, I also googled “cats” and got 220,000,000 hits. Now seriously, how far down the list did this person have to go to get to my site? All night, at least.

  • nice way to say be quiet
    Please, be quiet… Okay, I couldn’t resist that, but I mean no disrespect. It’s hard in this culture to turn around in the movie theatre and tell someone to stop chattering — there’s that burst of are we gonna have a fight now adrenaline that really yanks me out of the immersive movie experience, you know?

  • why do people strip naked for sex
    Um…If you are under the age of 11, go ask your parents to give you more information about sex. If you are 11 - 18 or so, well, trust me, it will become clear very soon. If you’re over 18 then I think you should find someone who makes your knees weak and ask them…

  • i want to get a lot of emails
    For whatever reason, this actually makes me a bit sad. I guess if that’s what you want, I hope you get it.

  • low sparks of a high heeled gal
    Did we go to high school together? And were you way cooler than me? I bet you were — I’ve loved the song for more than 30 years and it would never have occurred to me to think of it that way.

  • make her dance like a snake
    The thing that gets me about this search are the words “make her”…

  • short nice words
    Love, hope, sex, joy, friend, sun, wine, talk, play, fun, tea, bed, dream, smile…

  • werewolf transformation while having sex artwork
    Someone else has been reading the Anita Blake books!

  • am i crazy to want to write a book
    (smiling) No, no. Well, maybe just a little. Okay, yes, but it’s a good kind of crazy to be.

  • free formulas or common models for writing novels and short stories
    (shrieking) No, no, no, no, no!

  • what are dangerous spaces
    The ones inside where our deepest dreams live. The ones between us and other people. Go read the stories, find out for yourself.

  • And this month’s WTF award goes to: never yawn like spiders
    The management is constantly amazed at the infinite possibilities of people.

As long as one keeps searching, the answers come. – Joan Baez

Posted by Kelley | Filed Under blog 

Dancing Sept. 6

1 September 2008 | Leave a Comment

There are short cuts to happiness, and dancing is one of them. — Vicki Baum

If you’re a woman in Seattle, do come to the Hot Flash dance on Saturday, September 6 at Heaven Nightclub. The dance runs from 5:30 - 9:30 PM, with retro and contemporary music from DJ Stacey. I believe I’m working that night, probably an early shift — but when I’m not working, I’ll be dance dance dancing on the floor. Come join me!

Posted by Kelley | Filed Under blog 

A good day for bad medicine

1 September 2008 | 2 Comments

We had a table right next to the dance floor. People buzzed around us, Fantastic show, Love the album, Oh my god that song makes me so hot. Nice for the band: but right now was for us, so everyone was politely turned away while we drank and laughed and dissected the show.

 

I sat next to Con. Duncan was on his other side, still cranked on music: his eyes shone and his body wanted to touch. I watched the crowd watching us, and said to Con, “So, is this how you imagined it when you were a kid?”

 

Con made the huh face, and then grinned. “The first band fantasy I ever had was that Tico Torres would get run over by the tour bus and I would be Bon Jovi’s new drummer.”

 

So unexpected, and so perfect: Duncan and I nearly fell out of our chairs laughing. Con went on, “Seriously. I loved those guys, I still do. And I could totally see myself in the really tight faded jeans and the hair—”

 

“Stop,” said Duncan, who was by now gasping for breath. A wonderful thing, to see him so abandoned to joy. He came out of his chair and straddled Con’s lap. “Please, mister rock star,” he said, “can I be your groupie tonight?”

 

“Get off,” Con laughed.

 

“Love to,” Duncan said, looking particularly wicked as he always did when he saw a chance to tweak Con, who was undoubtedly the straightest man on the planet.

 

“You’re a fucking pervert,” Con said with genuine love. “Get off me.” Duncan laughed and went back to his own chair.

 

“And what did you see yourself playing?” I said.

 

“Easy,” Con said, “‘Bad Medicine.’”

 

– from “Dangerous Space” by Kelley Eskridge

Now that’s what I’m talking about.

Posted by Kelley | Filed Under blog, music, writing 

A nice evening

31 August 2008 | 6 Comments

Thanks to our friend Craig for a lovely evening at Black Bottle last night. I’ve been wanting a night out in the city in a place like this, casual and utterly urban. It was noisy and crowded, so it was hard to talk but the energy of it was like fizz in the air. I liked that our table was near the window, the street so close and so full of other lives passing by while we lived our lives inside with small plates of yummy food, with brandy and orange juice, with grownup conversation. I always say thank you to people who refill my water glass or bring me food, and it was nice that last night it mattered to them that I did, nice to exchange those smiles and be more real to each other for a second or two. And then it was nice to say goodbye to the noise and the rush and the sometimes-overwhelming buzz of other humans close by, to get into our little car and drive home under a slate-blue sky full of clouds that had turned nearly navy blue in some mad trick of atmospherics. To sit by the fire with tea and toast with jam and only each other, in the quiet.

Posted by Kelley | Filed Under blog, life 

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