Justine Larbalestier

reading, writing, eating, drinking, sport

Off to London

Done packing. Car gets here in 30 mins. Then it’s into the big jetplane and across the skies till we get to London where my sister lives. Can’t wait.

Except that it’s cold there. Sob. And even colder in Glasgow. Double sob. Just as it was getting to be a proper summer here we go somewhere damp and cold. What were we thinking?

Not sure what my internet access will be. Dunno if I’ll post. But I’ve become a blogging addict so if I can I will.

Enjoy yourselves while I’m gone.

Posted by Justine at 18:31, 28 July 2005 under Bloggery, Excuses, Travelling, Whingeing | 3 Comments »

My World Science Fiction Convention Schedule

Yes, like everyone else in the entire sf world, I will be jetting over to Glasgow to partake of science fictiony thingies for several days at the World Science Fiction Convention. I’ll hang out with me mates, meet new people, and spend a lot of time in the bar watching England being destroyed by Australia in the second test at Edgbaston. Can’t wait. (I’m just sad that it won’t be in an English bar. Fortunately there’ll be enough English sf fans around that my gloating enjoyment of their team’s destruction will have an audience. In fact I’m going to greet every new person by asking if they’re English or not. And if they are, I’ll say, “Cricket. Ashes. Ha ha ha!”)

Friday 2:30pm Reading

I’ll read some stuff. Maybe from Magic or Madness, or Magic Lessons (the sequel to Magic or Madness—the reading will contain no spoilers), or I could read from my brand new novel which no one knows nuthink about and I’ve never read out loud to anyone but me spousal. Dunno. I’ve got half an hour, but that’s ridiculously long. I don’t like to read for more than 15 minutes, that way me and me audience (both of us) can go to the bar and watch England being destroyed in the second test.

Saturday 12:00 noon Feminism as Setting

Trudi Canavan
Anne K. Gay (M)
Jon Courtenay Grimwood
Mari Kotani
Justine Larbalestier
Ruth Nestvold

Description: Feminism is no longer the story, instead it’s the setting—what has this meant for feminist writers?

My take: Huh? I don’t agree with the premise. Feminism can be both setting and story, these are not contradictory terms. Plus it will be tricky to work a discussion of the cricket in.

Sunday 11:00am The 1950s, 50 Years On

Gail Dana
Irma HirsjSrvi
Justine Larbalestier
Greg Pickersgill
Mark Rich (M)

Description: The 1950s saw the Golden Era of Science Fiction film and the blossoming of writers such as Asimov, Sturgeon, Dick, Farmer, Walter M. Miller and Poul Anderson. What do we think of them now?

My Take: How could you list the best of the 1950s sf writers and not include Alfred Bester? Or Theodore Sturgeon? Or Margaret St. Clair? I’ll argue that sf writing in the 1950s was indeed a golden age, the period when sf turned its attention to the social sciences and examined social issues more than ever before. It’s often argued that that didn’t start happening until the 1960s which is crap. Also the 1950s saw some of Keith Miller’s finest batting and bowling.

See you in Glasgow.

Posted by Justine at 12:59, 28 July 2005 under Cons & Other Gatherings, Cricket, Feminism, Liquids, Magic or Madness trilogy, Sport | 6 Comments »

A Moment of National Pride

How cool is my country?

We provide a national toilet map.

via the fabulous Cathy Hannan of lost and frowned.

Posted by Justine at 12:34, 27 July 2005 under Liquids, State of the World, Sydney/Australia, Toilets | 2 Comments »

Randomly

Georgette Heyer books remain most excellent on the umpteenth reread. On this occasion Venetia, Frederica, and Sylvester. Am unable to decide which I like better: Venetia or Sylvester. Right now am tilting towards Sylvester on account of authoress Phoebe’s roman a clef, the hero, Sylvester’s attempt to “mount” the heroine, and the truly appalling Sir Nugent Fotherby. But the sexy talk between Venetia and her Wicked Duke Damerel is hard to go past.

Can’t stop listening to Missy Elliot’s latest The Cookbook. Current fave: “We run this”.

The latest New Yorker has a gorgeous account of just how much Samuel Pepys (1633-1703) drank in a day:

At about ten o’clock, he would have his “morning draft”—usually “small” (or weak) beer, but sometimes regular beer or even wine. Cakes might be eaten with the draft, but dinner was the day’s main meal, then taken at noon, and, at least on some occasions, this was washed down with wine—possibly watered, given the volumes that Pepys records knocking back. During the rest of the working day, more wine might be consumed; Rhenish wine (sometimes sugared); “sack” (sherry or Spanish white wine); claret (red Bordeaux); “Florence” wine; “burnt” or “mulled” wine; wine flavoured with wormwood. He might also have further drafts of beer (traditionally hopped) or ale (traditionally unhopped), and specified as Margate, Lambeth, China, or Hull).

Fair enough. Drinking water back then was dangerous. I’d've been dead of cholera so very fast. I love me the taste of water. Especially New York City tap water which was unavailable to Pepys. Poor bastard.

It finally got hot here in NYC. I’m very happy.

Posted by Justine at 20:12, 26 July 2005 under Food, Liquids, Listening, Reading | 10 Comments »

And No. 2 Wins

There were many responses—thanks everyone—to my which-form-of-acknowledgments-should-I-go-with question, so rather than respond in the comments I’ll do it here. It’s my blog I can do it any way I want to. So, nyer.

I’m so thankful to the respondees that I’m thinking of adding an extra line to the acks:

And finally I’d like to thank Scott, Jeremyt, Claire, Barry, Gwenda, Ray Davis, Marrije, Richard b, Jonathan, Stephanie Burgis, the eagle-eyed and amazing Micole, David Moles, Shelly Rae, John Scalzi and Parker for telling me what form these acks should take, Janni for sitting on the fence, and Patrick Nielsen Hayden, Lauren and Jenny D for writing the dangerous minority opinion.

(For those of you wondering, nope, I have no idea who any of these people are. Honest.)

So, yes, being someone who always goes with popular opinion, I reckon it’ll be number two, and sand in the face to the dissenters Patrick, Lauren and Jenny D. Cause, you know, that’s what victorious marauding mobs do: they kick sand in dissenters’ faces. (Just close your eyes tight and you’ll be fine.)

Like Parker, I want both. The author’s acks for their gossip value, and also a credits page so you can figure out who designed the really cool dingbats, as well as who the coypeditor was (to either avoid or demand they copyedit all your future work). You do sometimes see editors and interior designers credited, but never copyeditors or publicists or proofreaders.

Jonathan writes: i’ve not written a novel, but there are a bugger of a lot of people who help with an anthology.

Speaking as someone who’s done both—there are a shitload more people you have to thank putting together an anthology than a novel. Relatively speaking writing a novel is a piece of cake.

In response to Patrick’s suggestion that I should: late in life, publish a tell-all memoir of such flamboyant magnificence that it eclipses all your work thus far.

I so don’t think so. Memoirs are hard work. You have to remember stuff and inadvertantly and advertantly (is that a word?) offend people, and get sued, hire lawyers, and, argh, no bloody way. I figure I’ll just keep my acks and dedications as fulsome as ever and if anyone feels like writing my memoir for me they can piece it together from aforesaid acks and deds. Piece of cake.

Gwenda wrote: What I loved best about Emily G’s column was the idea of critiquing acknowledgements and I must, sort of shamefully, admit that it was one of my favorite catty reviews ever. I’d far rather read catty reviews of acknowledgements than books.

You’re not saying that you’d rather read a catty review of acks than read a book, right? Cause that, Gwenda, is troubling. If you’re saying you enjoy catty reviews of acks over catty reviews of books, I’m with you. Unless the catty review is of a book I really really hated, or by an author I really hate, or by an ex (friend or lover) who was particularly mean to me, or by an English person (though not, Andrew, one from Nothern England), or someone who was once mean to any friend of mine ever, or by someone whose name is Rupert, Randy or Violet (I hate those names).

Those aside, reading a good vivisection of the acks page is indeed much more gratifying (except for the vague horror that perhaps you yourself have offended in just that way and could one day be on the receiving end of such an ack review). I very much enjoy a good mock of acceptance speeches and award ceremonies. “You love me! You love me! You really love me!” or how about, “I’d like to thank my agent, and God . . . ” You just have to adore the hierarchy in that little speech. Agent always comes first.

I confess that I have been obsessively reading, and yes, sometimes mocking, writer’s acks and deds for years. Ray Davis points to a wonderful dedication, Kyle Baker’s “This book is dedicated to whoever I’m going out with now.” I love it. I very much enjoy the good old “this book has been published despite the complete lack of support and obstacles put in my way by my family.” I’m paraphrasing several I’ve seen over the years. I giggle at certain over the top professions of love in the ack page. One stays with me. It appeared in an English language book, but is in a romance language and reads, “And to [name of beloved] I love you, so much, so much, so much!” And no the book was not a romance, it wasn’t even fiction, rather it was non-fiction of the driest kind.

Kathryn Cramer writers: I feel so naive. I thought acknowledgments were for finding out who really wrote ghost-written books.

Ah yes, all those books with this effusive ack: “This book would not exist without the research, editorial and all round amazing skills of [insert name]. Without you I’m nothing!”

Claire writes: of course, i’ve already received an offer of marriage from you, so i feel i’m already in the in crowd. so if you went with #1, i’d expect you to list me under “offers of marriage conditionally refused during editing process.”

Claire, sweetie darling angel, if I thanked every single person who refused my offers of marriage while writing and editing my books, the acks would be longer than the damn book. So won’t happen. Sorry.

Posted by Justine at 7:53, 25 July 2005 under Magic or Madness trilogy, Publishing business, Reading, Whingeing, Writing life | 6 Comments »

A Most Excellent Sunday

Yes, this is more about sport. Look, I know many of you can’t stand sport, but I don’t care (feel free to stop telling me about your lack of interest). Sport—and I’m talking watching it, not doing it—has been keeping me from burning down buildings since I was a wee thing. I’ve a sports brain. I am obsessed. Come the Olympics and I can barely leave the house. (Yes, I like to play some sports too: tennis mostly and not very well. I have a long legacy of sports played and abandoned—largely through injury.) I love following a particular team, knowing its history, the players, the management, the gossip. I love knowing the ins and outs of a particular sport, rule changes, how it’s reported (or not reported a la The New York Times and its total lack of interest in the New York Liberty), fluctuations in popularity et cetera, et cetera.

The Liberty just won their third straight game! And it was on the road. In a low scoring, very very very defensive game, the Liberty held off the Minnesota Lynx (who peed all over us in our last encounter). We even out rebounded them! They’re much bigger than us and yet we outdid them on the boards. It was the most incredibly pleasing victory, even better than our effort against Sacramento because we were tough and gritty and fought. Yay, the New York Liberty!

Between that and today’s slaughter of England and the end of the Tour this was a most excellent sporting Sunday.

That is all.

Posted by Justine at 20:18, 24 July 2005 under Basketball, Sport | 1 Comment »

La La La (updated)

Stupid English weather with it’s stupid rain. The fourth day of the first Ashes test has yet to begin. And Australia with only 5 wickets to bag. Most annoying. Better not rain tomorrow. Better not end in a draw. Bloody English weather!


Getty Images

Especially as Scott after much diligent googling found a bar in NYC that shows the cricket! Thus earning my eternal gratitude and undying devotion (not that he didn’t have it already, mind). That’s right, yesterday we watched the last hour of play at Eight Mile Creek in Soho surrounded by Aussies. Most excellent. They’ll be showing all of the Ashes—every day of every test—from the 5AM start till the end of the day’s play around 1PM. Bonza! Strewth! Bewdy, mate!

Last day of the tour! Who will wear the green? Please, please, please let it be Stuart O’Grady! And please let there not be any horrible prangs. Will Rasmussen be happy with being king of the mountain after yesterday’s disaster? I hope so. Poor baby. Twas horrible to watch.

And there’ll be much jokeying around in the last few places of the top 10. There’s only seconds between the fifth, sixth, seventh and eight places. Vinokourov just grabbed himself extra seconds to draw (almost) even with Levi Leipheimer in fifth place. My boy, Cadel Evans, is in eighth spot. Be lovely if he could move up. But you know what? A top ten finish in your first Tour is pretty bloody awesome.

And Lance, of course, will take the yellow in his last tour. He’s had an incredible career and proved himself to be without doubt the best on the tour. I fell in love with the Tour during the Miguel Indurain era, he of the mighty lungs, at the time everyone said we would never see his like again. And then along came Lance.

And how about next year? Who’s gonna win once Lance is gone? Who will be the next Tour god? I’m kind of hoping it will be more in the nature of an intense two or three or more way rivalry between several amazing riders with a different one winning every year. I cannot wait!

Update: yup, Lance got the yellow, Cadel Evans kept his 8th spot, Thor Husvold got the green, with Stuart O’Grady second.

Cricket resumed and Australia won by 239 runs. Not saying anything more. Gloating is in very poor taste.

Posted by Justine at 10:19, 24 July 2005 under Cricket, Sport, Tour de France, Viewing, Whingeing | 5 Comments »

Going Out on a Limb

The New York Liberty are gonna make the playoffs. There, that’s my money on the table. My team is gonna figure in the postseason.

They’re looking absolutely bloody amazing at the moment. Elena Baranova has come good, blocking, rebounding, being incredible in defence, hell, even Erin Thorne looked good last night. The Liberty just won two games back to back on the road, and last night against the Sacramento Monarchs they were magnificent, never looking like they were going to do anything but win (we’ll just ignore the last two shambolic minutes).

On a good day my team can beat any other team in the league; and, yeah, on a bad day they can lose to any one too. That’s the glory of the Liberty.

Posted by Justine at 11:13, 23 July 2005 under Basketball, Sport | Comments Off

More on Acknowledgments and a Poll

Gwenda links to Emily G berating people for their intensely irritating acknowledgments page and gives a fabulous list of don’ts. Now, I’m on the record as being all for acks, and I didn’t entirely agree with some of her complaints, but I sure was struck by this suggestion: I propose a straightforward film-style list of credits on the last page.

Interesting idea. So now I’m thinking of doing it for my next book, Magic Lessons. Here’s what it would look like:

———-

Publisher & editor: Eloise Flood

Editor & prodder: Liesa Abrams

Fellow pedant & seeker of perfection: Andy Ball

Answerer of annoying questions and all round helpful person: Margaret Wright

Designer of the beautiful interiors: Chris Grassi

Copyeditor of the Gods: Polly Watson

First Readers: John Bern, Gwenda Bond, Pamela Freeman, Carrie Frye, Margo Lanagan, Jan Larbalestier, Karen Meisner, Sally O’Brien, Ron Serdiuk, Micole Sudberg, and Lili Wilkinson.

Jilkminggan and Ngukurr memory refreshers: John Bern, Jan Larbalestier, and Kate Senior

Fashion consultant: Janet Irving

Provider of space in which to write: Allen Haroothunian (Sydney) and Drink Me café (New York)

Supportive family: John Bern, Niki Bern, Jan Larbalestier, and Scott Westerfeld

———-

What do you reckon? Is that preferable to this:

———-

I’m very lucky to have such smart, incisive, hardworking editors as Liesa Abrams and Eloise Flood. Thank you. Thanks also to Andy Ball, Chris Grassi, Polly Watson, and Margaret Wright.

My first readers are eagle-eyed and amazing. Thank you, John Bern, Gwenda Bond, Pamela Freeman, Carrie Frye, Margo Lanagan, Jan Larbalestier, Karen Meisner, Sally O’Brien, Ron Serdiuk, Micole Sudberg, and Lili Wilkinson.

Thanks to John Bern, Jan Larbalestier, and Kate Senior for refreshing my memories of Jilkminggan and Ngukurr.

Janet Irving answered all my questions about fashion and fabrics. (If I still managed to get it wrong, blame me.)

Allen Haroothunian let me use his home in Camperdown (Sydney) to finish the first draft and the first round of rewrites. Much appreciated. Large chunks of the first draft were also written at Drink Me café (New York).

Lastly, to John Bern, Niki Bern, Jan Larbalestier, and Scott Westerfeld: you four make everything easier and more fun. Here’s to more good food and wine together.

———-

Which is less annoying? Record your vote in the comments.

Posted by Justine at 17:03, 21 July 2005 under Bloggery, Magic or Madness trilogy, Publishing business, Writing life | 25 Comments »

How to Do Your Head in (updated)

Watch the Tour on the tellie while following the cricket through the BBC’s online radio and exchanging emails about it with your sister. Apparently I don’t multitask well. My head hurts. Thankfully the Tour is finished for the morning and I can concentrate on the cricket.

Am really enjoying the cricket right now. McGrath is bowling like a demon. He’s already gotten fivefer. Ha ha! I knew that Australia getting out for 190 was all about the wicket, not about the bowling. Of course now that Australia is in it’s all about the bowling not the wicket. No, I am not one-eyed.

Oh my, I’d forgotten about the BBC commentator—Blofeld’s appallingly plummy accent. It is to gag. Ack. Ack. Ack.

Update: 17 wickets taken in one day! Australia all out for 190; England 7/92 and only one real batsman left. McGrath gets his 500th test scalp with unbelievably brilliant bowling. As Merv Hughes said “Fair dinkum that was a good day’s play.” I reckon!

Posted by Justine at 11:30, 21 July 2005 under Cricket, Listening, Sport, Tour de France, Whingeing | 8 Comments »

Most Excellent Breaking News (updated)

Margo Lanagan, brilliant author of Black Juice and many other fine books now has a blog! Woo hoo! And a bloody superb one it is too! This news has made my day.

She’s even linking to some of her bad reviews and posing excellent questions such as: “Since when is ‘polished and clever’ the definition of good writing?” Since never, says I.

My only complaint is that so far she’s not enabling comments, thus depriving us all of the pleasure of welcoming her to blogland; and her of the pleasure of editing our comments (scroll down).

Update: as noted by Marrije in the comments, Margo has now enabled us all to get in amongst it with her and comment to our heart’s content. Yay!

Posted by Justine at 18:05, 20 July 2005 under Bloggery, Reading, Sydney/Australia, Young Adult literature | 7 Comments »

I Hate Fast Cars

An horrific day for Aussie cycling.

Posted by Justine at 3:21, 20 July 2005 under Sport, State of the World | 1 Comment »

Hiding the Trilogy and Unfinished Books

I just finished reading Elizabeth Knox’s Dreamhunter (the English edition is called The Rainbow Opera) and I absolutely loved it. Couldn’t put it down. Fabulous worldbuilding, gripping plot, gorgeously realised characters, and, bloody hell, but Knox can write. It’s easily one of the best books I’ve read this year, or last year, or pretty much any year.

But.

Yes, I have a but. And it’s a but I suspected I was always going to have about this book, because the lovely Lili Wilkinson of the Centre for Youth Literature who sent me the book from Australia (it’s not available in the US yet) warned me that is has a cliffhanger ending and the sequel isn’t out yet.

No big deal, I thought. But now I’ve read that cliffhanger ending, and now I’m sitting here with no second Dreamhunter book to read and it’s driving me completely insane and filling me with rage at the publishing industry that would do such a horrible thing to me, an innocent reader! I mean not only am I in the midst of the worst narrativus interruptus of all time, but I don’t even know exactly when the sequel is going to come out. Only that it’s called Dreamquake and will be out next year. When exactly? Which bit of next year? The January bit or, shudder, the December bit?

And Dreamhunter is not a whole finished book. It’s cruel to launch it on an unsuspecting public in this form. Nothing on the cover, spine, or back indicates that it’s the first half of a duology. There’s no hint in the cover copy. Nothing in any of the front matter, not even in the back matter. Why?!

Well, okay, I’m being disingenuous. I know why. Because many publishing houses believe that the punters won’t buy book one of a series unless it’s by a known-quantity. Say J. K. Rowling, or Robin Hobb, or George R. R. Martin. While Elizabeth Knox is huge in New Zealand and her adult books have been (justly) acclaimed (go read Vintner’s Luck), Dreamhunter is being marketed as young adult, and in that area she is an unknown. Safest bet, think the publishing people who make these decisions, is to not let on too strongly that it’s just part one, otherwise the punters mightn’t shell out the money for it.

That’s kind of what happened with my book, Magic or Madness. Though the front flap copy does mention that it’s the first book of a trilogy, it’s not mentioned anywhere else. A fair few people have missed it, and been cranky that the book ends without wrapping up all loose ends. Not my fault, if it were down to me it would’ve had a great big 1 on the spine and mention of it’s triloginess on the back cover, but it wasn’t down to me, and thankfully, say the Penguin people, because they reckon that would have really hurt the sales. (And in my defense: there are lots of ways in which Magic or Madness stands alone. Dreamhunter just stops in the middle of the story, nothing resolved at all.)

So, shockingly sometimes the interests of the people reading a book and those of the people who produced the book don’t coincide. This leaves me, the reader, waiting ludicrously long amounts of time for the sequel to books that I foolishly read before their sequels are published. What to do in the meantime? Reread Dreamhunter many, many times. And pray that Knox doesn’t pull a Pullman on me with the sequel.

Posted by Justine at 23:34, 19 July 2005 under Magic or Madness trilogy, Publishing business, Reading | 10 Comments »

Life is Good

I’ve written 1,500 words today. Bloody fine words, too. Or at least so they seem in the first flush of having written them. Yay first flush!

And Scott just threw together a late lunch of fresh baked rye caraway bread supporting the weight of manchego cheese, sliced perfectly ripe heirloom tomato lightly sprinkled with salt, and a sour pickled tomato. For dessert: two perfect majool dates. Have I mentioned my love of Russ & Daughters?

Now I and my happy palate will write more words.

Posted by Justine at 18:05, 16 July 2005 under Food | 14 Comments »

Australians: One and Two

Today’s Stage ended in an all out sprint with two Aussies coming out on top. I’m happy, even if I was hoping they’d come in the other way around—Stuart O’Grady, and then Robbie McEwen. And it’s always sad to see a breakaway mowed down within sight of the finish line. It’s gonna be a tight race for the green jersey. Fingers crossed that it winds up on O’Grady’s shoulders and stays there till the end. But with McEwen’s current form, well, sigh.

Posted by Justine at 11:29, 15 July 2005 under Sport, Tour de France | 1 Comment »

Bloody Casinos

I’ve had it with online casino spamage, so from now on all comments on this blog will be automatically nuked if they have the word “casino” in them.

You have been warned.

Posted by Justine at 9:22, 15 July 2005 under Bloggery, Whingeing | 2 Comments »

Desperately Seeking Inspiration

I’m endlessly fascinated by the search terms that lead people to my website. Today these desperate words typed into google led them to some not-exactly-directly-related pearls of wisdom: inspire me to write my thesis.

Ouch.

I remember those days. I finished my PhD thesis in 1996, having started researching it in 1991 (and taken a year off due to some bone breakage), but it sure felt like it took a lot, lot, lot longer than that. At the time writing my thesis seemed by turns nightmarish, unendurable, hallucinegenic, boring, fun, hideous, never-ending and plain out-and-out pointless. I endlessly procrastinated until, faced with the prospect of no more scholarship, I buckled down and wrote day after day, night after night, barely sleeping, or eating, or doing anything else, until I was a sobbing insane mess and the thesis was finished.

Eventually it became The Battle of the Sexes in Science Fiction, a book I’m still ambivalent about because it’s not the book I wish it was. To me it will always be my PhD thesis: the monster that almost broke my brain.

Hmmm, that’s not very inspiring is it? Here’s why you should write your thesis:

  • Until I finished mine I had never managed to finish anything long. I had started many novels, but never finished one. Finishing my 120,000 word thesis taught me not only that I could crap on at length, but that I could produce a (mostly) coherent, whole text. That’s a mighty fine feeling and a bloody useful skill. I’ve since finished four different novels. Now when I start a novel I’m no longer afraid I won’t be able to finish it, just that it will suck.
  • The research skills I learned have come in mighty handy over and over again. Yours will too.
  • Finishing my PhD thesis meant that I was eligible to apply for a post-doctoral fellowship. I was lucky enough to get an Australian Research Council one, which ended up changing my life. Once you’ve got your PhD you too can apply for post-docs as well as academic jobs. No comment on how much fun writing all those applications is (I applied for six and got one and was ecstatic with my strikerate).
  • Having a PhD under your belt can be helpful in landing other jobs. A PhD proves that you can stick to and finish a major project, that you can organise yourself, that you know your way around a library (or whatever facilities you used for your research—don’t want to leave out science types), and that you know how to make a very small amount of money go a very long way.

On the other hand, I know plenty of people who haven’t got a PhD who are quite capable of finishing long prose pieces, have great research skills, a job, and know how to make a tiny budget stretch . . .

Posted by Justine at 18:38, 14 July 2005 under Battle of the Sexes in Science Fiction, Bloggery, Search Terms | 6 Comments »

How the Future Isn’t

Mely has a lovely post detailing the future she’s sad we haven’t wound up with yet. Hint, it’s not the oft-touted Gernsback one. I’m with her on almost everything except immortality, which Scott has convinced me is a profoundly bad idea. Just imagine if certain world leaders never ever died.

I’d also really love a working transmat beam, because while I’m always saying I love travelling, I really, really, really, don’t. What I love is being somewhere else. If I could skip the whole many, many hours in a plane or whatever on the way to the somewhere else, I’d be dead happy.

Also I’d be very happy with food in patch or tablet form. I hate it when I just need food as fuel and there’s no time to enjoy it. I’d much rather down a pill and keep doing whatever I was doing and then, when there’s time settle in for that three hour sumptious feast accompanied by the very best wines, or a just-made-in-front of you taco from a market stall, or the bestest juiciest mango of all time. Also imagine how much easier pills or patches are to transport versus, say, grain. An end to world poverty, anyone?

And how about books in electronic form that are easy to read and don’t suck?

And, and, and . . .

Posted by Justine at 15:54, 14 July 2005 under Bloggery, Food, Reading, State of the World | 7 Comments »

Bibs and Bobs

Working hard thus am not so bloggery as usual. Other than the novel I’m writing here’s what’s up in Justineland:

Daphne Lee has posted the unedited (and illustrated) version of her interview with me where I persist in getting the name of Samantha from Bewitched’s grandmother wrong (got all that?). Daphne reports that Magic or Madness sold out in Kuala Lumpur the week the interview appeared in The Star. How stupendous is that?

Last night the New York Liberty beat the Houston Comets in overtime in Houston. Scott and me, we was screaming at the television like you wouldn’t believe. So happy! And as usual when the Liberty win everybody played their part. They are so teamy and ball-sharey and good. And now they’re better than 500 for the season. Being a Liberty fan is all about the ups and the downs. Thankfully they’re a bit more uppy at the moment. Next live game is Friday. Can’t wait! Season tickets make me happy.

The last two days of the Tour have been heart-stoppingly good. I don’t ever want it to end.

Many of my Oz sf friends are in Melbourne having a really good time. I am not even slightly jealous. Honest.

Write now. Many words.

Posted by Justine at 11:43, 13 July 2005 under Basketball, Bloggery, Cons & Other Gatherings, Magic or Madness trilogy, Sport, Tour de France, Viewing | 1 Comment »

I Hate Rest Days

The Tour is taking a rest day today. What’s that about? Rest day! What about me and other viewers like me? What are we supposed to do while the riders are slacking, luxuriating in bubble baths and drinking champagne and generally not riding their bikes and cat and mousing one another? It’s an outrage! There should be no rest days on the tour. None! Lazy slackers!

If you put the missing rest days back in then the Tour would be closer to 4 weeks long than 3. Imagine it! A whole month of the Tour de France. July truly would be the Tour month, every day of it. How fabulous would that be?

But would it be enough? How about all of the (Northern) summer? And have all the epic races of June July August merge into one big Tour de Europe? Or even better: why not have it last all year long? A Tour de World with races on board cruise ships as the cyclists are transported from one continent to the next. And with no rest days ever. In fact “rest day” would become a euphamism for dropping out of the race (permanently). Winners would be announced on a daily, weekly, seasonally and yearly basis with all the existing races (yellow, green, polka dot etc) in place but extra categories like a running silver jersey for the racer who’d been in the race for the longest and . . .

I can’t stand rest days! Why do I have to wait almost twenty-four hours for the next stage?! Especially now that Armstrong isn’t in yellow! Aaaaarrrggghhh!!!!!!!!!!

Posted by Justine at 9:14, 11 July 2005 under Sport, Tour de France | 7 Comments »

Letters from the Past (Part 2) plus a Rant

Åka the proprietor of the blog, Läst och tänkt i annien dropped into translate:

Läst och tänkt i annien means read and thought in annien, where annien is my “idioverse”, the universe as perceived through my eyes. It is mostly about fandom, books, physics and strange or peculiar things.

I was reflecting over the fact that annien seems to be inhabited by so many more men than women (i’m a physicist and sf fan), and that maybe the books i read are likewise unequally populated. at the same time I happened to see the link to you from mumpsimus, and threw it in together with the other things. i also liked the first letter, but quoted asimov because it tied in better with the science and science fiction theme. I want to avoid too long quotes.

That was it, i think. Just ask if you want to know anything more.

Thanks for making these letters available! I have sometimes read or heard about what kind of discussions that occured in the magazines, and as a piece of history it is fascinating. Now I just want to read some old letter columns about the role of science in society and literature, to see what kind of opinions people had on that.

Thank you!

The letter columns of old sf magazines are wonderful, and yes, the role of science and literature does get debated. (Though by far the most common kind of letter merely rates the stories of a previous issue.) But even the most seemingly banal letter reveals a lot about the thoughts, feelings and ideas of the time. I found the letters columns of Astounding and Thrilling Wonder Stories the most active and interesting.

I’ve been hoping that since my book, The Battle of the Sexes in Science Fiction, was published there’d be more work on the culture of science fiction that goes into archives (public and private) looking at the letters and editorials in sf magazines as well as the stories and, as importantly, looks at the fanzines. So far, there still isn’t nearly enough. (Though if anyone comes across any such work—do let me know!) But I keep hoping.

Anyone doing work on sf is only doing half the job if they don’t look at sf culture. If you’re writing about sf now, that means you have to look at all the online debate not just published stories and novels. It’s what I encouraged the essayists to do for my collection Daughters of Earth.

But it’s difficult. Most scholars working on sf don’t have access to collections—there aren’t that many in the world—and most collections don’t have large (or any) holdings of fanzines. Private collections (particularly of fanzines) are even more inaccessible, often stored in the attic, garage, boxes under the house: all of which are unlabelled. Tricky. And on top of that many of those magazines and fanzines are falling apart. Particularly the ones from the war printed on inferior paper.

But it’s work worth doing and more to the point it’s fun. Reading those letters takes you back to a whole other world, one full of surprises, I wasn’t expecting to come across such strongly feminist letters in the pages of an sf magazine from the 1930s and yet that’s exactly what I found.

Posted by Justine at 10:53, 10 July 2005 under Battle of the Sexes in Science Fiction, Reading, State of the World | 4 Comments »

Letters from the Past

Over the past few days there’s been a remarkable jump in traffic to this page of my website. The letters reproduced there are from the late 1930s and debate the role of women in science fiction. I adore them. They’re funny, warm, silly and just plain gorgeous. A little investigation revealed links from mumpsimus, coalscent, swisstone and Läst och tänkt i annien (tragically, I don’t read Swedish, so I have no idea what that means and I don’t share my husband’s love of wacky google translations).

The commentators do seem to be remembering that Asimov was a kid at the time, just eighteen. And, by all accounts, he was a young eighteen with little knowledge of sex, theoretical or otherwise. Readers of these letters should also keep in mind that he was a possum stirrer of the first order, frequently arguing in the letter columns for the sheer joy of arguing. A type not entirely unknown in our equivalent of the letter cols of yesteryear—the comments sections of blogs.

It’s unsurprising that it’s Asimov the commenters focuss on, after all, he’s the big name, but the letter I find most moving is the first one, “five of a kind”, from a Naomi Slimmer of Russell, Kansas. It provides such a vivid window into her life back then. I wondered why none of the people posting and commenting about the letters had mentioned it. Then I realised that I hadn’t put the full text up. Woops. That is now remedied. Thanks to those linking and commenting for giving me the nudge to notice my oversight.

And a little extra treat just for those who read my blog. Here’s my favourite line from a letter to an sf magazine. For context—the letter was part of a debate about whether “sexy” covers and interior illustrations (i.e. scantily clad women) belonged in sf mags or were cheapening a clean and nobel genre:

“What’s wrong with sex inside or outside as long as the gal shows expression in her eyes?”
—B. W. Williams
Startling Stories January 1953, p. 136.

Posted by Justine at 15:48, 8 July 2005 under Battle of the Sexes in Science Fiction, Reading, State of the World | 6 Comments »

Niki is safe (updated)

I woke up, as many of us here in the USA did, to the news about the London bombings. I’ve had a couple of emails expressing concern about my sister who’s working there. I’ve been emailing with her all morning and she’s fine, as are all her friends.

I haven’t heard from my friend Veronica Schaones. My fingers are crossed. Update: she’s safe in France. Phew!

I’m hoping that your family and friends in London are fine. I can’t imagine what those people whose family and friends aren’t are going through. It’s too horrible to think about.

Posted by Justine at 9:20, 7 July 2005 under State of the World | 1 Comment »

Puce

My friend Justine (also an Australian) asked me the other day what colour puce is. I’ve read a tonne of Georgette Heyer where it’s a colour that pretty much no one looks any good in, so I had always imagined it was a kind of cacky yellow-brown (on a puce=puke or puce=poo etymological model). It had never occurred to me to look it up. But Justine did. And read that it was a non-saturated red (I forget the whole description), but it sounded like terracotta, which is a lovely colour.

Here’s what the OED says:

puce [pjus], a. (sb.) [a. Fr. puce sb.:-L. plex, -icem a flea; couleur puce flea-colour (17th c.).]
a. attrib. or as adj. (orig. puce colour): Of a flea-colour; purple brown, or brownish purple.

1787 Best Angling (ed. 2) 83 Dip a feather in aqua fortis, put it on the ash,..and it will make it a cinnamon, or rather a puce, or flea colour.
1791 Hamilton tr. Berthollet’s Dyeing I. i. i. ii. 32 Colours inclining to red on the one hand and black on the other, such as mordoré and puce colour.
1820 Chron. in Ann. Reg. 197/2 A rich twilled sarcenet pelisse, of a peuce colour.
1834 Mrs. Carlyle Lett. I. 10 The old black gown (which was dyed puce for me at Dumfries).
1893 J. Ashby Sterry Naughty Girl ix. 79 His puce silk suit, his muslin cravat.
b. As sb. = puce colour.

1882 Garden 16 Sept. 260/1 Blooms of..rich dark puce, suffused with maroon.
1897 Daily News 25 June 2/6 The mountains had all put on..the purple puce of twilight.
1900 F. H. O’F. in Lond. Let. 26 Jan. 133/1 Varying shades..from palest peach to deepest puce.
c. Comb. puce-coloured adj.

1812 Sir H. Davy Chem. Philos. 212 The puce-coloured oxide of lead.
1874 Garrod & Baxter Mat. Med. 410 Cochineal yields when crushed a puce-coloured powder.

That also sounds like a colour that’s all over my wardrobe. A gorgeous colour. Except for the bit about fleas. Flea-coloured? Huh?

Posted by Justine at 16:55, 6 July 2005 under Viewing, Words & Language | 7 Comments »

Robbie McEwen v Stuart O’Grady

Several people have asked what I make of Robbie McKewen using his head and shoulders to try and muscle Stuart O’Grady out of his way yesterday. Stuart O’Grady = Good; Robbie McEwen = not so much. I’m pleased there are consequences for that kind of behaviour.

That is all I have to say on the matter.

Posted by Justine at 10:18, 5 July 2005 under Sport, Tour de France | 6 Comments »

How to Get an Agent—a New Musing

I’ve just put up a new musing responding to that much asked question:

How to Get an Agent

The short answer is that there is no one way to get an agent. Luck and hard work both play their part. But first you have to figure out whether you’re ready for representation. Don’t even think about pursuing agents until you have a finished novel. And make sure that novel is as good as you can possibly make it. Then make it a whole lot better. Rewrite and rewrite and rewrite and then rewrite some more before you send it to anyone. And, yes, this does apply to you. And yes it applies to non-fiction proposals too. Even though you don’t need a completed book you do need the best proposal you can possibly write.

Continue reading How to Get an Agent.

Posted by Justine at 11:16, 4 July 2005 under Cons & Other Gatherings, Publishing business, Writing life | 10 Comments »

How to Get an Agent

Of late I’ve been receiving quite a few emails asking me how you go about getting yourself one of those mythological creatures known as the literary agent. It’s a question frequently asked of most published writers. You should also take a look at Ian Irvine’s the “Truth about Publishing” which explains how the publishing system works (be warned: it’s depressing).

The short answer is that there is no one way to get an agent. Luck and hard work both play their part. But first you have to figure out whether you’re ready for representation. Don’t even think about pursuing agents until you have a finished novel. And make sure that novel is as good as you can possibly make it. Then make it a whole lot better. Rewrite and rewrite and rewrite and then rewrite some more before you send it to anyone. And, yes, this does apply to you. And yes it applies to non-fiction proposals too. Even though you don’t need a completed book you do need the best proposal you can possibly write.

Scott got his first agent by first finding out which were the best agents representing adult science fiction. He did this by looking at the acknowledgments pages of his favourite writers, as well as looking up agents in the various writers’ guides available at the time (you’ve got it much easier these days; you can use Agent Query). He then spent a whole week writing the perfect query letter, before sending it out to every suitable agent (that’s important: do not be sending your YA cheerleader novel to someone who only handles adult non-fiction). He received only one request to see his novel. He sent it and she signed him up. At the time Scott had no connections, knew no one in literary publishing, indeed, he’d never met an agent before. This is the traditional method for finding an agent and it still works. But remember that query letter has to be perfect. Agents get hundreds and hundreds of queries a week.

I got my first agent because I like people. I always have. I frequently wind up in conversations with total strangers in the queue for the loo, at bars, restaurants, parties, wherever. Meeting new people is one of my favourite things in the world.

So my first agent? It was 1999, I had just flown from Sydney to NYC (via LA) to spend six months in NYC researching the New York Futurians for my post-doctoral fellowship. I arrived at JFK knackered out of my mind and found myself in the longest queue for cabs I’ve ever seen. The woman in front of me asked where I was heading. I said Manhattan. We agreed to share a cab. We got talking. Turned out that she was a writer too. A real one with a published book and eveything. Once in the cab we were already fast friends. Then the cab got stuck in traffic and it took almost two hours for us to get into the city. By the time we finally parted ways I felt like I’d made a friend for life. But as usually happens we never saw each other again.

We didn’t forget, though, and almost a year later I received an email out of the blue from a friend of Pang-Mei’s. She was starting up a new literary agency and Pang-Mei had described my Futurian project to her. She was intrigued and wondering if I had representation. She asked to see samples of my work. I sent them to her, she signed me up.

Before she emailed me, I’d already made an effort to get an agent for my first (written) novel (which to this day hasn’t sold, though it’s come close a few times). At the time I had no professional fiction publications (not even a haiku) and precious few of any other kind. My manuscript was rejected by three different agents. One in Australia, two in the USA. At the time I thought the novel was as good as I could make it (maybe it was) but I’ve since rewritten it several times and it’s much much better now. Did I send it out too soon? Probably.

All three of those agents represented friends of mine. They agreed to look at my novel because said friends had recommended it. I did not need to write a formal query letter. (To this day I have never written one and hopefully I never will.) Having that connection meant that my manuscript was read and that I got a prompt response. Two of the agents even took the time to sit down with me to explain in detail what they thought was wrong with the novel (an exquisitely painful experience, let me tell you—at the time I wasn’t used to criticism—years of living with Scott has since hardened me).

But did my connections get me an agent on that occasion? No, they did not. Unless an agent likes what you’ve written and thinks they can sell it, they will not take you on as a client. Not even if you’re best friends with J. K. Rowling. It’s that simple.

The common theme here is being connected. But how do you get connected? I did it by going to science fiction conventions and meeting lots of writers, other aspiring writers, editors, agents, publishers and fans. All of whom were full of gossip about the publishing industry and books and writers and who the best agents and editors are. After going to two or three conventions I was connected in a way I’d never thought possible. I’d had conversations with some of my favourite writers in the whole world. It was dizzying.

Without even intending to I was laying groundwork for my own fiction publishing career. (Remember though the most important groundwork for a writing career is to write and write and write.) But let me put it in perspective. None of this was instantaneous. I attended my first convention in 1993. I finished my first novel in 1999. I got my first agent in 2000. My first (non-fiction) book was published in 2002. My first professional fiction sale came in 2003 (the Magic or Madness trilogy to Penguin/Razorbill). My first novel was published in 2005. Not exactly greased lightning.

The not-intending-to part is important. Over the years I’ve seen ambitious aspiring writers go to conventions and try to make as many connections as possible as quickly as possible. I’ve seen them rock up to parties and just happen to have the manuscript of their novel in their bag, ready to hand over to the first agent or editor they talk to who expresses interest. Not a good look. Desperation and naked ambition make people on the receiving end nervous.

So, am I recommending that you go to conventions to make connections but pretend that you’re not? No. I’m saying that if you’re even vaguely a people person going to a convention or festival or other gathering of writers who write stuff similar to you (horror conventions if you write horror; romance if you write romance; sf for science fiction and fantasy; writers’ festivals for mainstream) you’re going to meet at least one or two like-minded people and become friends. After more than ten years involvement with the sf community, nearly half my friends are part of that community. The most important thing I’ve gotten out of attending conventions is friendship, becoming part of a community that extends over many continents. I have sf friends in Argentina, Australia, Canada, France, Japan, the Netherlands, Spain, the UK, and the United States (and I’m sure I’m forgetting some countries).

That many of these friends are writers, editors and agents is secondary, but, yes knowing them wound up making it easier for me to become a published writer. (But remember, some of them weren’t any of those things when I first met them.) I’ve been invited to contribute stories to an anthology just because I happened to be in the room with the editor who was talking about it. Most themed anthologies aren’t open submission, you have to be invited, and to be invited editors have to know who you are. If you’re unpublished—as I was at the time—it’s damned hard to get the invite. So far I haven’t had a story accepted for one of those anthologies. Like I said, being known gets your foot in the door, but it doesn’t get you published unless the editor loves what you’ve written. Established writers with many published books still get rejections.

The best panel I attended at WisCon this year was Common Questions for Pros. It featured the diametrically opposed Robin McKinley and Scott Westerfeld. In good spirit they disagreed about how to write (Robin: in one big, compulsive, mind-destroying burst; Scott: in the same place, at the same time, every day, with the goal of writing a thousand words), as well as about how to go about getting an agent, or published. Scott spent a lot of time talking about the community in a similar vein to what I’ve written above. Robin McKinley kept making the point that if you prefer the life of a hermit, if you can only handle people in small doses, then the becoming-connected route is not for you. You can, she insisted, get published without knowing a soul in the industry. After all she managed it.

I totally agree (and for the record, so does Scott). I’ve seen people at cons schmoozing because that’s what they think they should be doing and looking utterly miserable in the process. If you don’t like talking to strangers then don’t do it.

Here’s something else Scott and Robin McKinley agreed about: the writing is the thing. No matter how connected you are, if your writing doesn’t cut it then you will not be professionally published. Your writing must always come first. There’s no race to be published. I swore to myself that I would have my first novel published before I was thirty. It didn’t happen and I’m glad (though that’s definitely not how I felt at the time). Right now I’m a much better writer than I was at thirty. I hope that like Ursula K. Le Guin and Carol Emshwiller I’m going to be an even better writer in my seventies and eighties. That’s one of the great things about being a writer: there’s no use-by date.

Good luck.

New York City, 4 July 2005

Posted by Justine at 1:10, 4 July 2005 under Musings, New York City/USA, Publishing business, Writing life | Comments Off

Tour de France (updated)

At least there’s one epic non-US sports event I can watch live in the USA: the glorious Tour de France. The first stage began today and the yankee, David Zabriskie, is warming the yellow jersey for Lance Armstrong. I’m not saying Armstrong’s gonna win overall, but we all know he’s going to be seeing a lot of yellow time. There goes my writing schedule!

This is where I’ll be getting my online coverage. Thanks again to Christopher and Gwenda for introducing me to the glories of the daily peloton.

Posted by Justine at 17:10, 2 July 2005 under Sport, State of the World, Tour de France | 10 Comments »

I Wish I’d Seen It!

Sometimes the pain of being so very far away from live coverage of the cricket is just too much. Australia and England tied the one-day finals. The match sounds mind-blowingly good. Now I’m even more excited about the Ashes series.

Stupid non-cricket loving USA. With its stupid games that make ties an impossibility. I’m grumping off to continue writing the great Australian YA cricket Elvis fairy mangosteen novel. Talk amongst yourselves (yes, both of you!). (Oh, and Margo? Amongst, amongst, amongst, amongst, amongst!!!)

Posted by Justine at 15:15, 2 July 2005 under Cricket, How To Ditch Your Fairy, Sport, Whingeing | 8 Comments »

Saga of a Typewriter

I’ve been a fan of the lovely Ms Tingle Alley for some time now, but I think this is definitely one of her most gorgeous posts eva! And I speak as someone who can’t stand typewriters, though I do have a dim memory of my parents having a gorgeous red Olivetti one, and my longing to play with it, but that was before computers and word processing programs, without which I can’t even begin to imagine writing. And writing by long hand?! The utter utter horror of it!

Posted by Justine at 18:40, 1 July 2005 under Bloggery, Reading | 2 Comments »

Agent Trouble

The last two posts at Bookangst 101 are all about writer/agent relations. Fascinating stuff. I must be very lucky because I’ve only got one ex-agent, and we didn’t part for any horrible reasons. So far I’m enchanted by my new agent who passes the caring test with flying colours, and my foreign rights agent not only cares, but has been doing a stellar job. I’ve never experienced any of the hassles Lauren Baratz-Logsted (and, by the way, excellently fabby surname) discusses. On the other hand, I’ve heard some tales that would make your hair stand on end, even worse than hers, but sadly they are not my tales to tell.

I’m so glad I’m still basking in the warm glow of a brand new relationship with my brand new agent and can now just concentrate on the writing part. After all, other than getting you better deals, that’s what an agent’s for: they do a hundred per cent of the part of your job you don’t want to do (shopping your work around, negotiating, understanding contracts and royalty statements etc. etc.), for fifteen per cent of your income. Seems fair to me.

Posted by Justine at 17:01, 1 July 2005 under Publishing business, Writing life | 2 Comments »

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