Psst! Wanna buy a comic?

I've gotten word from Scott McCullar that Shooting Star Comics Anthology no. 5 is now at the printer. This is good news, indeed. I've been slipping into that kind of paranoia mode where I expect a meteor to crash out of the sky and destroy the proofs any moment now, but by reaching the printing stage, well, I'm breathing a little sigh of relief. This issue features Dracosaur, my comic script-writing debut, which makes it a very valuable future collector's item. And it's that much closer to reaching comic shop shelves.



Of course, being a very small publisher, Shooting Star is buried in the back of the Diamond catalog, and many retailers don't look that deeply when placing their orders. So this next part is up to you (gosh, you just knew there'd be a homework assignment, didn't you?): You've got to ask for it by name. Actually, you've got to do a bit more than that, because many comic shop retailers will just look at you dumbly if it's not from Marvel or DC and say, "We can't get it." To which you reply: "To order from Diamond, simply request item #JUN042740 F. The book is listed on page 332 of the June issue of Previews." That way they don't have any excuse not to stock a whole bunch of those literary masterpieces...

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Manuscript retrieved

The quest to Bastrop turned out successfully. I now have the copyedited manuscript of Voices of Vision in my posession. Already I've seen a couple of copyedited mistakes that need to be fixed--but they're honest mistakes, the kind that stem from exceptions to standardized rules. I've also seen--I'm shamed to admit--several mistakes on my part that the copyeditor caught and fixed. Mistakes that saw print in the original publications. Oops. It'll take me a couple of days to complete the initial once-over, and we'll see where we stand then. But my first impression is that I've lucked into a competent copyeditor that knows her business. Lucky me.

I also had time tonight to finally bottle the batch of mead I've had going. It's just a tiny batch, and it filled seven-and-a-half 750ml green claret bottles I picked up at San Antonio Homebrew Supply over the weekend. After corking them all, they looked nice and clear with the exception of the half bottle, which was distrubingly cloudy. That one will have to be drunk as soon as the sediment settles. No time for aging with that much air in there. I sampled a tiny bit of the mead, and it caught me off guard. I could definitely taste the alcohol, and the acid/sweetness blend was well-balanced--the sweetness was almost neutral. But the overall flavor was somewhat bland. Maybe I've just gotten too used to the different, distinct personalities of beers and wines, but I expected the honey to have more oomph. It wasn't bad mind you, and I'd rather drink it than some commercial wines or beers I've had, but still. Mead's supposed to age for six months to a year before the flavor peaks, however, so we'll try it again this time next year. A name for this mead and lables are yet to come...

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Adventures in publishing

So the book manuscript is supposed to come to me via FedEx or UPS or whatnot on the 9th or 10th, directly from the freelance, hired gun copy editor, at which point I have a two-week window to proof the whole 300-something pages. Any corrections I want made I'll have to make ASAP, because this version of the book is the one that they're going to set the printing plates from. So the arrival date has come and gone, with no manuscript in sight. Wherever could it be?

Bastrop.

I know I updated my address with Nebraska. I know because some additional contract and publicity materials a few months ago wound up in Bastrop as well, and a few phone calls turned up the fact that Department A hasn't passed on the new address to Department B. For those this is lost upon, I moved to New Braunfels almost a year ago, after spending maybe six months in transit with Bastrop as my temporary mailing address.

So I get to make the drive to Bastrop tomorrow after work, to retrieve said manuscript. What fun that will be, in a car that has air conditioning, but which overheats if said air conditioning is operated. When I have several other projects--both writing and non-writing--that are in need of my immediate attention as well.

On the bright side, I got an email from Gary Westfahl saying my three entries to the encyclopedia looked great, and that he wasn't sending over Muggsy and Rocko to break some or all of my knees for wasting his time...

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Putting your best breast forward

Spent today at the La Leche League state conference in San Antonio. Will spend Saturday and Sunday there as well. For the uninitiated, La Leche League is a breast-feeding advocacy group, which is really needed because the corporations that manufacture formula are scum of the earth. Seriously. Their tactics mirror Big Tobacco, and in some cases, put Big Tobacco to shame. My wife's a Leader, recently promoted to the position of district advisor for other Leaders. She's also helping run a lot of the behind-the-scenes stuff at the conference.

The similarities between this breast-feeding conference and science fiction conventions are eerie. 1) The person with the key to the hospitality suite is never around when they're needed; 2) the dealer's room (in this instance, the dealer's lobby) is chok full of all sorts of oddball stuff you never even knew existed; 3) they speak a different language than "normal" folks, and geek out about issues they're passionate about; 4) programming panels are pretty much like what you get at SF cons, tho instead of Farscape and "erotica in science fiction" they discuss "organic nutrition" and really, really take joy in reaming Ezzo and his wretched Babywise book (which, incidentally, Lisa was instrumental in getting removed from Sam's Club stores nationwide a few years back...).

There are striking differences, too: 1) There are lots of kids. Lots of 'em; 2) there are lots of women. Seriously. Lots and lots of them. Many of whom are breast-feeding (which isn't titilating as the uninitiated might think); 3) there are a number of men around, looking befuddled and/or bemused while chasing after children. These guys are filling the role the wives usually play at SF conventions; 4) on the whole, La Leche Leaguers are in far better physical shape, and have far better fasion sense than what you'll get at your average SF con.

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And seven Spanish angels took another angel home

Damn. Ray Charles died today. I never got to see him perform. On our honeymoon, he was playing in Las Vegas, but not until the day after we left--and there was no way I was going to stick around god-forsaken slab of scorched asphalt for anyone, even Charles. Then, a few years ago, while I was still working in Temple, he was performing up in Waco. Unfortuantely, I had a work conflict and couldn't make it. But really, when people refer to the genius of Ray Charles, that's not hyperbole. I remember a story back in '86 or so when Billy Joel's The Bridge came out, and it sported a song called "Baby Grand" which was a duet with Joel and Charles. Apparently, Joel was so in awe of Charles in the studio that instead of deep and soulful, he started singing like a skinny white kid from the Bronx. And Charles followed his lead, singing like a skinny white kid from the Bronx. It was only when Joel got over his hero-worship and started singing like Ray Charles that the song came together.

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Have you seen this wizard?

Saw Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban last night at the IMAX in San Antonio. This wasn't simply a 35mm film projected onto the IMAX screen--it was an actual IMAX print. Wow. Talk about dazzling. The picture envelops you, and the digital sound was superb. I felt like I could count the feathers on Buckbeak.

I thought the book was the best of the series--Goblet of Fire and Order of the Phoenix suffering from a severe case of bloat--and this film is the best of the three Potter movies filmed thus far. It's more fluid. Cuaron isn't afraid to jettison major sections rather than shoehorn them in, and rearranges things for dramatic effect. The pacing moves along at a good clip. Time passage is effectively conveyed via clever use of the Whomping Willow. And the kids are much more proactive in this one, as opposed to the last two films, in which they sat around waiting for stuff to happen. All in all, quite the enjoyable fantasy film.

But seriously, see it on IMAX if you get the chance.

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Don't forget to turn out the lights

I'm currently reading The Last Man on the Moon by Gene Cernan and Donald Davis. I got it three, maybe four years ago, right when it came out. I was going through a spell where I was reading pretty much every book written or co-written by an astronaut. I do that sometimes. But I never got around to the Cernan book. Maybe because the title was just too depressing, from a reality standpoint.

But I'm reading it now, and it's a joy. What makes the difference, I'm convinced, is that it seems real. Other astronaut books get the facts right, and most of them are fairly well written. Michael Collins wrote Carrying the Fire without a "pro" writer to help him, and that book is one by which all others are measured. But they're all whitewashed to a certain degree: Everyone respected each other, and everyone has good things to say about the astronaut fraternity. Even well-known public disagreements are soft-pedaled. Cernan doesn't do this. He says, "You know so-and-so? He was a real jerk-face." Or, "This guy, he scared the willies outta me." He calls himself on his own shortcomings, and isn't afraid to point out those of others, either. But he does it in such a matter-of-fact way, there's no malice behind the words. Very entertaining. I almost feel like I know the guy, which isn't something I can say about John Glenn or Jim Lovell, even though their books are just as enjoyable...

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