Just been busy writing. You know, fiction. As I do! From time to time.
So, yeah. How you doing?
Just been busy writing. You know, fiction. As I do! From time to time.
So, yeah. How you doing?
The new edition of Locus came out yesterday and features a review of The End of All Things — a space opera/milSF book, genres which, you may recall, the magazine has been lately accused of never reviewing — and I found the opening graf interesting:
Just for a moment, let us put a pin in all that Scalzi has done and has come to represent – all of the multi-million dollar contract, all of the SJW hooha, all of the hanging out with Hollywood geeks – and pile all of that baggage someplace else for just a few minutes. Can Scalzi still tell a good story?
Ha! Well, it’s a fair question.
The good news is, at least for this reviewer (Adrienne Martini), the answer is yes; review is positive, and the novel is found to be “perhaps, the most Heinlein-esque of Scalzi’s novels.” It’s never a bad day for me when a science fiction book of mine is (positively) compared to Heinlein’s work.
I don’t think it will surprise anyone that I agree with the reviewer about what’s actually important here. At the end of the day, the salient question for a potential reader for my work is whether I tell a story worth their time — and also, their money. As long as I’m doing that the rest is sideshow. Now, of course, personal tastes come into play, and people will like my work or not, depending. But on this end of the computer screen, at least, I’m always writing something I would want to read. And I like a good story. I think that helps.
Also, you know. I’m not stupid. The foundation to my success as a novelist — and the reason for the contracts, and the Hollywood stuff, and the obvious envy of some very silly people manifesting as the equally very silly assertion that not being an actively bigoted jackhole is somehow a contemptible way to live — is the fact I’m pretty good at this storytelling thing. Without the storytelling thing, all the positive stuff is at a high risk of going away. So, yes. I’m going to stay focused on the storytelling thing, as long as I am able. On my end of things, at least, this is not a particularly complicated question.
Tangentially related to storytelling, and success, the voting for the Hugos this year has officially closed, and people are pinging me, wondering how I voted. I’ll say this much: I voted my conscience, which I encouraged everyone to do. In my case this means a) that in at least one category, all the Puppy nominees finished above “No Award,” b) there is at least one category where my ballot was “No Award” up top and everything else left off the ballot, c) I don’t think there’s ever been a year where I haven’t left something off the ballot and/or below “No Award,” so in that respect this year was not in the least bit exceptional.
It does seem to me that the all the Puppy bullshit ran down and out of steam there at the end; at a certain point there was nothing left to say, there was just the voting, and you voted or didn’t. The last bit of nonsense I saw from the Puppy environs was some of their nominees rage-quitting the Hugos and deciding to “No Award” themselves, and at least one of them saying that was the plan all along, because apparently when you have no idea what you’re doing, every outcome, no matter what it is, is a victory condition. At which point you just roll your eyes, pity the sad and meaningless sort of existence where being the turd in the punch bowl is a legitimate life goal for a presumably adult human, and move on.
In any event, the award ceremony is three weeks out; we’ll see what happens then.
Last night I participated in the Concert Against Humanity, a comedy and music event put together by the fine folks at Cards Against Humanity, mostly because, as far as I could see, it was something they felt like would be fun, so why not? And I have to say I can’t argue with that line of reasoning.
In addition to doing my own set with Pat Rothfuss (in which we read skits about science shows and super villains) and cutting down Indiana governor Mike Pence with a lightsaber — look, the dude was a Sith, he had to go — I spent time wandering backstage with my dSLR, capturing pictures of the performers and crew and recording a bit of what it’s like to be on the other side of the stage for an event like this.
Curious to see how it all went down on the performer side? I’ve put together a Flickr set for the whole show here. Click through and check it out. It’s the closest thing to being on stage, and I should know, since at least a couple of times I was actually on the stage with my camera. Enjoy!
The last day of the July, and we have an especially large haul of new books and ARCs for you to admire here. See anything here that begs to be on your own personal bookshelf? Tell me in the comments!
And a reminder: If you are in Indianapolis, for GenCon or any other reason, I and several other awesomely funny people will be on hand for hilarious hijinks tonight at the Concert Against Humanity. I believe there may still be a few tickets left — go get them!
Was pointed today to this interview with developmental psychologist Lisa Diamond, on the subject of sexuality, and additionally, whether it matters whether people who identify as gay or bisexual are “born that way” or not. She takes the position that ultimately it really doesn’t matter:
It is time to just take the whole idea of sexuality as immutable, the born this way notion, and just come to a consensus as scientists and as legal scholars that we need to put it to rest. It’s unscientific, it’s unnecessary and it’s unjust. It doesn’t matter how we got to be this way. As a scientist, I think it’s one of the most fascinating questions out there and one that I will continue to investigate. As a lesbian and a progressive, I think it’s totally irrelevant and just politics.
I don’t know if in fact Diamond is correct, but I’ll note that for a very long time now I’ve personally held the position that I don’t care why or if someone decides to love someone of the same sex (physically and/or emotionally and all the stuff in between), simply that if they do, that love should be respected, legally and socially. I think it’s entirely possible that some people are “born that way,” that some people become that way through environment (Diamond notes that “environment” should be considered a term rather more expansive than “how you grew up and with whom”), and that others might have become so by a combination of both, or some other factor entirely. Ultimately it doesn’t matter, outside of a dry and somewhat abstract set of academic questions. However you got there, you got there.
Diamond also talks about sexual fluidity, which “means that people are born with a sexual orientation and also with a degree of sexual flexibility,” which is to say (at least as I understand it), you know your general sexuality, and you also know how much leeway you give yourself inside of that understanding. So for example you might identify as straight but be willing to acknowledge that every once in a while you find someone of the same sex attractive, or gay but with occasional hetero crushes, or bisexual but with a lean one way more than another on average. Or, you know, you might identify as something rather more expansive than that.
This also makes a great deal of sense to me. People have been talking about the Kinsey scale for years, but I find that sort of linear sexuality tracking a little limiting. I picture it as multidimensional with a number of axes: Gay-straight might be one; sexual-asexual might be another; conservative – opportunistic might be a third. A guy who is largely straight but highly sexual and somewhat opportunistic might not turn down a same-sex encounter because, hey, sex; another man who is gay but closer to asexual and conservative might turn down the same opportunity.
These three axes are not necessarily the complete set, I would note; likewise I would note that not every dimension of sexuality has the same range on every person. And finally, of course, one’s understanding of one’s sexuality may change over time — again for various reasons.
All of which is to say, sexuality: There’s some complex shit going down there.
And all the more reason, from the point of view of social and legal acceptance, not to actually care how someone arrived at their sexuality. The law should care if sexual encounters are consensual; society should discourage (to use a word mildly) non-consensual encounters. Other than that, you know, fair play.
Note that I think that people should know, as much as they are interested in the subject, the hows and whys of their own sexuality. I think knowing who you are and what led you to that understanding is useful to help you avoid behaviors that aren’t good for you, and to help you find which ones are. But your personal knowledge of yourself is different than society or the law demanding you are who you are, sexually, is because of one factor exclusively, or more than another, in a precise recipe. You should care about your sexuality. I’m not convinced the law or society needs to care anywhere as much.
Look and learn, people. Look and learn.
“Go Big Or Go Home” — it’s an idea, all right, but it is a good idea? Or could a big idea be something on a smaller scale? Gary Whitta asked himself this question with his novel Abomination. What was his answer? It awaits you below.
My big idea is actually a very small one. And in some ways it’s a reaction to a frustration that I’ve felt in my day job as a Hollywood screenwriter — and as an audience member — for quite some time. In recent years we’ve seen the rise in popularity of what I believe is a false conflation of stakes and scale, the idea that the grander a story is in terms of scope and scale, the more we’ll care about what’s at stake. This is why so many movie plots hinge on the fate of the entire world/galaxy/space-time continuum. IF I DON’T DISARM THIS BOMB A MILLION PEOPLE ARE GOING TO DIE. Except it doesn’t work that way. Oftentimes the greater the scale of a story, the more the stakes become abstract, something foreign and hard to grapple with for the people living everyday lives who make up movie audiences.
Joseph Stalin, a chap I always like to quote when talking about popular entertainment, famously said, “A single death is a tragedy; a million deaths is a statistic.” We understand intellectually that a million deaths is awful but we can’t really grasp the idea emotionally. Human beings don’t scale emotion that way; a million deaths doesn’t hit us a million times harder than a single one. So when a million faceless, anonymous lives are on the line in the plot of a movie or a novel, it doesn’t actually have that much of an impact on us. Coupled with the fact that we’ve seen this pulled a thousand times and more in movies particularly, we just kind of stop caring. James Cameron perhaps framed it best when he talked about his narrative approach with Titanic, a movie which I am led to understand was fairly successful. I’m paraphrasing here, but basically, “I can’t make an audience care about two thousand people on a sinking ship, but I can make them care about two people.” By focusing his story on two characters, spending the first half of the movie getting to know them, he made the audience care about them when their lives were put in danger. The movie is epic in scale but the emotional stakes are actually very intimate. The rest is just background.
This is a lesson Hollywood still largely needs to learn. The fallacious idea that the bigger the action is, the more we’ll invest needs to go away. It’s sad to say, but Die Hard would not get made today in its current form. “Too small,” the executives would say. “What if the terrorists had nuclear bombs planted all over Los Angeles?” they’d helpfully suggest, as if that somehow is more potent than the simple story of John McClane, an everyman we like and care about, trying to survive against impossible odds while coming to realize that he needs to make things right with his estranged wife. Ditto Jurassic Park. “So these dinosaurs are just on one little island that’s mostly deserted? How can we make this BIGGER?” Well we just saw the answer with Jurassic World, a film that’s inferior to the original despite its far greater scale.
Though film is my first language as a writer, I chose to write my most recent story, Abomination, as a novel because I didn’t want to have to conform to these false ideas, or to see it inevitably subjected to them during a film development process. It is by design a small story, because as Cameron said, I believe it’s more emotionally affecting to tell an intimate story about a small group of characters with relatable emotions and goals than it is a vast, fate-of-the-world, “stake-tistical” epic. The structure of Abomination, which is about a medieval knight dealing with the human consequences of a battle against a plague of evil magic, doesn’t lend itself to a typical movie narrative template. Movies tend to escalate as the story goes on, with all the “biggest” action reserved for a climactic third act.
This is why so many modern movies end with massive battles, often so massive that we tend to lose track of what’s actually at stake and just stop caring. There is a big battle scene in Abomination, but it takes place about a third of the way through the story, and happens largely “off-screen”, referred to only in broad strokes. After that the story scales way down to focus on the characters, whose goals don’t have repercussions for anyone other than themselves. But if I’ve done my job right that matters to you because you’ve come to care about these people.
I think this is crucial, and it goes back to the idea that high stakes don’t require grand scale. Look at Little Miss Sunshine. What’s at stake there? Whether or not a little girl will win a regional talent contest? And yet we care deeply, because we care about those characters and so what’s important to them is important to us. My second-favorite Denzel movie, Man on Fire, also does this brilliantly. The whole first half of the movie is spent painstakingly establishing a relationship between a young girl and the man hired to protect her, drawing them gradually closer, caring more and more about one another — and in turn making us care about them — so that when they are violently torn apart, the fate of that little girl is all the stakes we need.
The author William Zinsser said, “Dare to tell the smallest of stories if you want to generate large emotions.” You’re damn right. And you do have to dare to do it, because the prevailing wisdom tells us that everything has to be bigger Bigger BIGGER for an audience to care. The reverse is true. Zero in on the lives of your characters and let them expand to fill your entire story. Reject quantity. Go small. The fate of the entire world may be at stake.
Look, it’s the paperback version of Lock In, which arrived here at the Scalzi Compound just yesterday. It looks great, feels great, and while I can’t legally promise anything, anecdotal evidence shows that when you hold it, you are three to five percent more attractive to those you wish to appear attractive to (and also, to dragonflies. We haven’t figured out the science on that one). This edition is officially out in exactly one week, although, as I am not JK Rowling, I’m sure that release date will be leaky and you will find copies available before then.
This is the “virtuous cycle,” incidentally — release the previous hardcover as a paperback on or near the release date of the new hardcover in order to take advantage of the publicity and excitement around the hardcover release. And then next year, repeat, with a new hardcover and the old one in paperback. Easy! Simple! Fun. And useful for book tours, curious new readers, and so on.
This also means the hardcover release of The End of All Things, not to mention my tour, is just two weeks away. Those of you coming to the tour will be happy to know that I will, as is my custom, be reading something new and exclusive on tour, which you won’t be able to read or hear anywhere else. Plus other stuff! So it will be worth your time to show up, I promise.
So, that’s a hell of a magazine cover. As of this writing the New York magazine site itself is down because of a hacker attack; the hacker in question alleges this has nothing to do with Bill Cosby. Interesting timing nonetheless. Here’s the link to the story package when it goes back up. You should read it. If it’s still down, Vox has a write-up on it.
A friend of mine tweeted a comment last night that said “power corrupts” and I tweeted back something snarky about that; turns out she was tweeting about Bill Cosby and I missed the context, so I apologized and deleted my tweet. Turns out I am just as susceptible to the failure mode of clever as anyone else.
But I had additional thoughts on her comment. I think it’s true that power corrupts, or that it can. I also think it’s true that power reveals — which is to say, that with some men and women, it’s not that having power weakens their will or leads them into temptation, but rather that power allows them to indulge in the things that they’ve always wanted to do. They didn’t need to be corrupted. They needed only the means to do what they willed, which power provided.
Ultimately, however, it doesn’t matter if power corrupted or revealed Bill Cosby’s nature. I don’t imagine it matters to the women who were sexually assaulted whether Cosby gave into temptation or indulged in his will, or both. At the end of the day they were still raped by him. And at the end of the day, for decades, they were told there was no point in telling anyone about it because no one would believe them. Corrupted or revealed, Bill Cosby’s power protected him, until it didn’t. I am absolutely sure that the irony of what kicked the Fall of Cosby into high gear was Hannibal Buress, another man, calling Bill Cosby out on stage was not lost on these women, or women in general. The information was out there; women had been saying these things for years. They still needed a man to say it in order to have the world pay attention.
I’m not sad for Bill Cosby. He raped women, he did it for decades, and now everyone knows he did it. He deserves condemnation for it, and he deserves to see his reputation destroyed (he also deserves jail time, which at this point he is unlikely to receive. But I think for a person like Bill Cosby, the destruction of his reputation is probably no less painful than time in a cell). The man was and is a genius, and his comedy mattered to me; I remember being a kid listening to his comedy albums at the West Covina public library and trying (and failing) not to laugh out loud in a place where you weren’t supposed to make a lot of noise. Bill Cosby: Himself was one of my favorite comedy concert films. And by the time Himself was released, Cosby had assaulted 22 of the 35 women featured on that New York cover. Bill Cosby is a genius; Bill Cosby is a rapist of women. The former does not excuse the latter and never should have.
I am sad we are still in a place where women aren’t believed when they come forward about sexual assault, and that it’s such a matter of fact of our culture that The Onion can satirize it. I’m sad and sorry for the women who had to wait until a man came forward to call out Cosby in order for the cultural tiller to shift in their direction. Anita Sarkeesian — who knows something about the bullshit women have to put up with in order to speak — and others have said that one the most radical things you can do is believe women when they talk about their experiences. It seems like a dramatic statement until you take a hard look at that New York magazine cover, and the thirty five women there, bearing witness to sexual assaults over four decades, finally being believed in some cases fifty years later. You realize it’s not dramatic at all.
A friend of mine not from the United States said to me the other day, and this is pretty much a direct quote, “Seriously, dude, your country is scaring the shit out of the rest of us with this Donald Trump thing.” To assure him and others, a few points, covered by others to be sure but worth repeating.
1. The election is 15 months away. Relax, lots will happen between now and then.
2. And what’s going to happen is that the GOP primary voters will eventually settle down and vote for Jeb Bush (or maaaaaybe Scott Walker), who will go on to be defeated by Hillary Clinton in the general election. While it’s a quantum physics universe and anything can happen, realistically, this is how it’s going to go down.
3. But in the meantime, why shouldn’t potential GOP voters have their fun with Trump? Rich assholes are amusing, for a while. This is like that time in high school when you ditched your regular friends for a couple of weeks to hang out with that kid whose parents bought him a Camaro and let him take the speedboat out on the lake by himself and have keg parties at his house when they weren’t around. Eventually you figured out that no one at his parties was actually his friend, they were just there for the beer, and the reason he took you out on the speedboat was because he had no one else to hang out with, because he confused having a lot of money with having a bearable personality. And eventually you went back to your old friends and that was that. Which is to say: Jeb Bush, ’16.
4. But what if I’m wrong? What if Trump waltzes away with the GOP nomination? Well, first, that would be hilarious, and second, then he gets squashed by Hillary in the general, by a much wider margin than she would have against Bush or Walker, in part because then 2016 would see the largest Hispanic voter registration drive ever, and having Donald “racist against Hispanics” Trump as the GOP banner carrier would basically set back Republican attempts to court Hispanics by probably thirty or forty years. It would be entirely deserved too, so there’s that. He’d also have at least some mainstream GOP folks holding their noses and voting for Hillary, I expect.
5. All of which is to say that no one, not even potential GOP voters, expect Trump to get the nod, even as they poll him highly and want him to stay in the race. He’ll make trouble, and he’s making the GOP really uncomfortable by gleefully exposing the fact that so many members of their potential voter base lap up dumbed-down racist populism. But with the latter, Trump didn’t create the demand for dumbed-down racist populism, he’s just exploiting it, and with the former, well, again, this is the time in the election schedule where trouble looks kind of fun. But at the end of the day, most GOP voters will line up behind the person they think has the best chance of actually getting into the White House. That ain’t Trump.
6. Last point? What the GOP really hates about Trump is that if they somehow manage to push him out of the GOP voting pool, they know that means Trump isn’t defeated, he’s just pissed off. It’s entirely possible that his response to being punted will be to run as an independent. If he does, there’s a good chance he’ll peel off four or five percent of the presidential vote: Not enough to win, but more than enough to doom the GOP flag bearer, since it’ll be the GOP from which he’s taking votes. This won’t matter much in my estimation because I don’t expect whoever the GOP runs this election to win, but I wouldn’t expect the GOP to be as sanguine about it.
Basically, the GOP is screwed either way, when it comes to Donald Trump. And Donald Trump will never, ever be president. I could be wrong about this. But I really really don’t think I am.
As we head into the weekend, a baker’s dozen of new books and ARCs for your delectation. Any of these books make you hungry to read? Share your thoughts in the comments!
Just arrived in the mail today: The German-language version of Lock In, entitled Das Syndrom. Why? Because it’s Germany! And my German publishers change the titles of my novels with some frequency. Mind you, it’s not just them; pretty much all my foreign publishers have changed the titles of at least one of my books. I chalk it up to them knowing their markets. I also think “Das Syndrom” would be an excellent name for an industrial band, one that opens up for Einstürzende Neubauten on occasion.
In any event: Look! New book! In German!
Both pictures taken today.
There’s some family resemblance there, I think.
Some various things, involving me, all put in the same post for the sake of organization:
* As you can see from the photo above, the hardcover edition of The End of All Things is something that exists in our world. Hooray! If you want it the first day it’s out — or make sure you have it when the tour comes to your town — I strongly suggest pre-ordering it. How can you do that? Well, just call or visit your favorite local bookstore and tell them that you would like to order it. They will be delighted to pre-order it for you (because that means a sale for them). If you have no local bookstore, or you do but you and their owner are locked in a decades-long feud stemming from That Thing That Happened at Prom (or whatever), then of course you may pre-order from your favorite online retailer. Basically, if you’re in North America, there’s nothing stopping you from pre-ordering however you want.
* For those of you who are fans of audiobooks, the Audible version of The End of All Things is also available for pre-order now. This version is narrated by William Dufris and Tavia Gilbert, who longtime audiobooks fans will know have narrated the other books in the series (Gilbert did Zoe’s Tale, while Dufris has done all the others). I’m absolutely delighted to have the both of them offering up their reading talents for this one. The audiobook, like the hardcover, is scheduled for release on August 11.
* A reminder to those of you in or around Indianapolis that on July 31st — a week and a day from now! — I will be performing at the Concert Against Humanity, along with Kumail Nanjiani, Paul and Storm, Cameron Esposito, The Doubleclicks, Molly Lewis and Patrick Rothfuss. Which is to say this is going to be a fabulous concert and you should come to it. There are still tickets available, so attending is still a thing you can do. And what will I be doing at the concert? Well, it’s very likely that I will be writing up something new, exclusive and (hopefully) funny for it. Or, I will perform the whole of Warrant’s seminal 1989 album Dirty Rotten Filthy Stinking Rich, in sequence, on ukulele. Honestly, it could go either way at this point.
* On the subject of ukuleles, a couple of people have asked me if I’m really going to play the ukulele on the book tour. My answer is the same as it has been for the last couple of tours: If someone brings one, I’ll be happy to play it, although I can’t guarantee you will be happy to hear the strangled noises I will make come from it. However, one request: If you want me to play your ukulele, please make sure it’s tuned before you hand it to me. I don’t have time to tune it on the fly. Yes, I play the uke terribly, and that’s on me. But I want to be terrible and in tune, and that’s on you.
* And on the subject of the book tour, a reminder to media folks: If you want to interview me any time in the next few months, please contact my PR representative, Alexis Saarela, at “firstname.lastname@example.org”. She is the keeper of both my tour and interview schedule, and honestly, I’m not scheduling any interviews, etc, without them going through her first. Also, if you send them to me, they’re likely to fall down into a big email hole at this point. So for both our sakes, please contact Alexis.
* And on the subject of book tours in a general sense, I along with Tayari Jones, Sloane Crosley, Nell Zink, Gary Shteyngart and Junot Diaz, am talking about book tours and what they are like in the New York Times. And yes, I talk about frosting. How could I not? As I’ve noted to folks on Twitter and Facebook, I am pleased not only that I get my first byline in the NYT (I’ve been written about in the NYT, but have not written for them), but that Athena, who took the author photo that accompanies the piece, get a photo credit, too. That’s going to look pretty sharp on a college application, I think. In any event, check out the NYT feature. It’s pretty nifty.
I have a number of Chromebooks here at the house — some of you might remember I was given a CR-48, the beta version of the Chromebook, by Google back in the day — and I like them quite a bit for what they are, which are cheap and cheerful computer terminals that back up to a mainframe we now call “the cloud.” We have a few around the house and I use them for casual writing and cruising the Web, and Athena and her classmates use them at school for classwork. They’re a good solution for a lot of things that people use computers for.
My most recent Chromebook was an HP 11-incher which has developed a couple of problems — its charging cord isn’t working anymore and every other cord I get for it say it’s “charging at low power” and the trackpad is getting wonky — so I was planning to do an upgrade soon. Then Asus brought out the Chromebook Flip, a Chromebook that has a 10-inch touchscreen that you can flip over and use as a tent display or a tablet, with 4GB of memory, all for less than $300. The reviews have been pretty good, so I thought I’d check it out. It arrived yesterday evening and I’ve been playing with it, as a laptop and a tablet, since then.
So far? I’m pretty impressed. It’s slightly smaller than the Chromebooks I’ve been used to; you might not think there’s a big different between a ten-inch device and an eleven-inch device, but it turns out there is, and as a consequence I’m doing a tiny bit of retraining my brain where all the keys are on the keyboard, which is a bit more cramped than on my other Chromebooks. This is a pretty minor thing and I don’t have a monster hands in any event. The track pad is also very nice, if small. Acclimate yourself to the idea that everything on this thing is a little small, and you’ll be okay.
What I really like is that when you flip it over and use it as a tablet, it’s a size that makes sense to be a tablet — big enough to give you real estate to look at, not so large that the whole thing feels horribly awkward in your hands. As a point of comparison, I also own the Dell XPS 12, which has a screen which you can also flip over and use as a tablet. It’s a great laptop which I highly recommend (or did; Dell retired it for the also apparently excellent XPS 13), but I almost never use it in tablet mode because the 12.5-inch screen is just too big, and the whole package weighs in at over three pounds, which is a lot in that form factor.
The screen here, on the other hand, is 10.1 inches — basically, it’s a ten-inch tablet. The whole thing comes in at under two pounds, so it’s easy to walk about with it in tablet mode, or to sit with it in bed in that format. The 1200×800 screen isn’t brilliant compared to other mobile devices, but it’s fine and on par with first generation tablets. In fact, the whole thing basically feels like a first-gen iPad in your hand. It’s not as modular as a typical tablet — everything still runs through the browser because this is ChromeOS, not Android — but if what you’re mostly doing is browsing the Web, I don’t think you’ll notice much difference. There’s an onscreen keyboard in Tablet mode that will be very familiar to Android users.
The hinge that you use to transform the computer is nicely stiff, at least so far; we’ll see how it holds up to lots of use. In tablet mode, the keyboard disables itself and faces outward, opposite the screen. I understand some people find this weird and maybe a little uncomfortable, but honestly it didn’t bother me. Some of the reviews I’ve seen have griped about the screen’s large bezels; I agree they could be smaller, but then again in tablet mode they give you a decent amount of space to grip the thing without activating the screen, so again, I think it’s fine. The touchscreen itself is pretty good. I haven’t had any problems with touches not registering, or stuttering when I scroll. I suspect it might actually be a better as a touchscreen than the screen on my XPS 12, which was rather more expensive (but admittedly, released a couple of years ago).
Other notes: The body of the Flip is aluminum, not plastic, which makes it look and feel nice. The keyboard, aside from its being a little small, is responsive and about as good as you’re going to get on a device this size. The keys are not backlit, but if you’re expecting backlit for under $300, then bless your heart, I’d say (I would still love a Chromebook with a backlit keyboard, though).
Two USB ports, HDMI mini out and SD mini card in. Battery life seems to be pretty good so far (but it’s waaay too early for me to say). For what I use Chromebooks for, it’s handling everything I’m throwing it, but as with any Chromebook, don’t expect miracles with multimedia or standalone programs; again, this is a terminal, not a full-featured standalone laptop. If you’re looking at these things, I really do recommend spending the extra $20 for the 4GB model. The internal storage is 16GB (utterly standard), but you can add via the mini SD port, and everything is designed to store to the cloud in any event. In all the years I’ve been using Chromebooks, running out of storage on the laptop has never ever been a problem.
All of which is to say that if you’ve been waiting for a perfectly good Chromebook that you can also use as a perfectly good tablet, and for under $300 to boot, this is going to probably work for you really well. I like it a lot, and will probably use it for wandering about the house and also for short trips where I know a) I’m going to have a consistent Internet connection, b) I won’t have to be doing a whole of work that relies on specific programs. This covers a surprisingly large number of trips. I don’t think I’d write a full novel on it; but I might write a few pages of one, while I was traveling.
More details later if my opinion changes substantially, but so far: Thumbs up.
It’s the finished hardcover version of The End of All Things! Arrived just a few minutes ago. It looks great. And has that new book smell!
And yes, that’s her copy. She always gets the first copy. Always, always and forever.
Here’s a fun fact: This week marks the 10th anniversary of the print release of Agent to the Stars. It was released in a limited edition hardcover from Subterranean Press, which makes it to date, and likely for the next decade at least, the only novel of mine released first by a publisher other than Tor Books (Tor later released it in trade, mass market and paperback editions, and Audible has in audiobook). Only 1,500 of these hardcovers (plus a few publisher copies) exist, making it the smallest and rarest of my first edition hardcover releases. I’ve seen it on rare book sites listed for over $1,000, although right at the moment on alibris you can get one for just $130. I have several. I’m saving them to pay for Athena’s college.
Although the print edition of Agent is a decade old this week, the novel itself is rather older. In fact it’s the first novel I wrote — it’s my “practice novel,” the novel I wrote to see if I could write a novel (the answer: apparently!). I wrote it mostly on nights and weekends in 1997 in my apartment in Sterling, Virginia, on a desk shoved against the wall in our bedroom, using Microsoft Works, the company’s off-brand word processor. Before I started writing the novel, I was trying to decide whether to write a science fiction novel or a mystery/crime novel, as I enjoyed both genres equally; I ended up flipping a coin, and science fiction it was. If the coin landed in the other direction, I might have had both a vastly different writing career, and a very different life overall.
At least some of you know that once I wrote Agent I made no real effort to sell it to publishers; as a “practice novel” the point was not to write something salable, but to write something that was novel-length, and then use that to see what things I did well, what things I should improve on, and what things I shouldn’t do. So when the novel was done, I showed it to Krissy (who was immensely relieved when she liked it — she was married to me, after all, it would be awkward if she thought I was a crap writer), my friends Regan and Steven and a couple of others, and then otherwise pretty much kept it in a drawer for a couple of years.
Then in March of 1999, I decided, what the heck, I needed stuff on my Web site, and the novel wasn’t bad. So I put it up here as a “shareware novel” — people could read it and if they liked it, could send me a dollar in the mail. Over the next five years I ended up getting around $4,000 sent along, a not bad sum for a time when people had to actually make an effort to physically mail you money in an envelope (this also makes me an old school indie author, which is one reason my response to people who think there is some manifest division between “traditional authors” and “indie authors” is one of, well, amusement). It did well enough that when I wrote Old Man’s War, I didn’t think too hard about whether to post it up on the site, either. I did, and then it was found here by Patrick Nielsen Haden of Tor. He made an offer on it, and the rest is history.
But note that Patrick didn’t make an offer on Agent, despite the fact that it was on the site, available and not bad, in Patrick’s estimation (he read it after he read OMW), and despite the fact that Tor offered me a two book deal when he bought OMW, the second book of which would become The Android’s Dream. When I ask Patrick why he didn’t want Agent, he said, in characteristic pragmatic bluntness, that it would be difficult to sell, in part because it was humorous and in part because it didn’t easily slot into a category for booksellers. It wasn’t military science fiction, it wasn’t space opera, it wasn’t “new weird,” which was a thing at the time, etc. I appreciated Patrick’s pragmatic bluntness — and I was getting a two book deal out of him anyway — so I didn’t worry about it. And besides, Agent was doing fine hanging out on the Web site.
Fast forward a couple of years, to January 2005. Old Man’s War’s been published and is doing well, and I get an email from Bill Schafer, the publisher of a small press in Michigan called Subterranean Press. He’s read Agent to the Stars on the Web site and wants to know if it’s available to be bought. Well, I’ve never heard of Subterranean Press, so the first thing I do is check it out to see if it’s something more than a guy with a mimeograph machine (it was) and that this Schafer dude isn’t just some creep trying to take advantage of newer writers (he wasn’t).
So I let Bill buy the book for a limited hardcover release. We asked Mike Krahulik of Penny Arcade to do the cover; I’d advertised Agent on Penny Arcade waaaaaaay back when, so he was a friend I could throw some money to, I liked his work a ton, and (because I wasn’t stupid) I was aware that as the first book cover Mike would ever do, the book would have collector value to fans of Penny Arcade even if they had no idea who I was. He said yes, turned in a really nice piece of art, and in July of 2005, the book — by that time almost sold out on pre-orders — went out into the world. It sold out entirely shortly thereafter.
Here’s why, today, I’m happy the Agent was released then. First, because it started my relationship with Bill Schafer and with Subterranean Press, which is a relationship that continues to this day — SubPress publishes my limited editions and most of my shorter fiction. Bill and SubPress did well by me when I was just starting out, and I’m happy to keep working with them today. Relationships matter. Second, because Agent being published in print gave it an additional life: We sold it into foreign markets and to Tor for paperback (Patrick, again with his pragmatic bluntness, could buy it in 2008 because I had become a name, and readers would buy it because they already liked my stuff. I found this to be a delightful reason) and into audio. We get the occasional film/tv query about it, too, which is nice.
Third, because it allowed me to not worry about “the sophomore slump” — that is, whether my second book would sell as well as the first or be appreciated as much, among the other bits of anxiety authors have about their second book. Agent was a small press limited edition, so I didn’t have to worry about whether it would sell as well or better; we already knew how many copies we were going to sell. It was going into a collector’s market where “quirky and humorous” was not a problem for sales. It was already written, so I didn’t have tie myself up in knots about it or freak out about deadlines. Basically, it was a really optimal “second novel” experience.
Occasionally at signings, people will come up with a copy of Agent and confide that it’s their favorite novel of mine, as if that’s something weird, because OMW or Redshirts are the usual suspects for that title. But I like it when they tell me they like Agent. It’s my firstborn (if second-published), and it was written not because I wanted to sell, but because I wanted to learn. Writing it was a joy, if for no other reason than the dawning awareness I had writing it that, yes, in fact, I could do this thing, and I liked doing it, and that I wanted to do more of it if I could. That’s what Agent gave me that no other novel could, or will. It’s special to me. I’m glad when it’s special for other people too.
So: Happy print anniversary, Agent to the Stars. And thanks, Bill and Subterranean Press, for publishing it. Here’s to more work together.
Context: In 2006, Pluto was demoted from being a planet to being a dwarf planet, a move that many, including notable YA author (and personal friend) Scott Westerfeld, thought was a good move, because he and they are terrible people. When my daughter, then age seven, heard that Scott Westerfeld — her friend Scott! Who she liked! — was a “Pluto Hayta,” she felt compelled to make a video, both asking him why he held such hatred for our system’s smallest planet, and then showing him the consequences of such wanton contempt.
For years the video was unavailable, because I made it and displayed it in an AOL video service that is now (like pretty much everything else AOL) consigned to the bit-bin of history. But today, miracle of miracles, I discovered the Internet Archive had made a copy of the video file. I downloaded, it converted it, and put it on YouTube.
And so, here it is, and well timed for the recent Plutomania: My daughter’s 2006 video to Scott “Pluto Hayta” Westerfeld. Enjoy.
And yes, her t-shirt in the video does indeed say “I Have Issues.” She did! With Scott!
Naturally, I showed it to Athena (now aged sixteen) before I posted it. She thought it was adorable. And, well. Yes. Yes, it is.
The biggest irony? Pluto now has a feature on its surface named for Cthulhu. My daughter was prophetic, at age seven, she was.
(P.S.: Here’s Scott’s response to the video at the time. Still wrong! History shall judge him. And all who led us down this dark path.)
He has no chance. For either. None whatsoever.
Which, you know, is too bad, at least the “winning the GOP nomination” part (I don’t want him to be president). As far as the current iteration of the GOP goes, he’s not bad — he’s pretty smart, he’s well-experienced both as a current governor and a past US representative, and as a governor in a swing state, he’s been reasonably pragmatic, or at least, as pragmatic as any GOP governor is these days. All of which is to say that if he did somehow manage to become president, I would expect him to be a bureaucrat rather than an ideologue, which would suit me just fine.
But I don’t expect him to get out of the first few primaries, if he gets that far, because, well, who is the Kasich primary voter? Those who want someone with gubernatorial experience will go to Bush or Walker first and then probably Jindal; those who prefer conservatism fiery and/or unhinged have a whole buffet to choose from. Kasich as far as I can see is always the “other” option. Oh, sure, there are Republicans out there who could be on board for “boring competent conservative,” but recent history suggests they don’t show up for primaries (and if they do, hello Bush). I’m just not seeing the Kasich groundswell. Hell, we barely think of him at all here in Ohio.
Unless Kasich is entirely delusional, he also knows he has no chance, which makes you wonder what his endgame actually is. VP? Maaaaaaaybe? Bush/Kasich or (oy) Walker/Kasich is something I could see, with the idea that Kasich could deliver Ohio. This may just be his way of popping onto the radar for that. Other than that: Secretary of the Treasury, maybe? Positioning himself as a lobbyist once he’s two-termed out of the statehouse here in Ohio? It’s gotta be something, because “actually becoming president” isn’t going to be it.
But, we’ll see, won’t we. I’ve certainly been wrong before, even if I don’t expect to be about this.