Lawrence M. Schoen

2011 Nebula Award nominees

Lawrence Schoen — Wed, 22 Feb 2012 13:00:38 +0000

While I was away in California doing familial things, the nominees for the 2011 Nebula Awards (which will be presented in May of 2012) were announced. You’ve probably seen them elsewhere, but I’m happy to post them here all the same:

Novel
Among Others, Jo Walton (Tor)
Embassytown, China Miéville (Macmillan UK; Del Rey; Subterranean Press)
Firebird, Jack McDevitt (Ace Books)
God’s War, Kameron Hurley (Night Shade Books)
Mechanique: A Tale of the Circus Tresaulti, Genevieve Valentine (Prime Books)
The Kingdom of Gods, N.K. Jemisin (Orbit US; Orbit UK)

Novella
“Kiss Me Twice,” Mary Robinette Kowal (Asimov’s Science Fiction, June 2011)
“Silently and Very Fast,” Catherynne M. Valente (WFSA Press; Clarkesworld Magazine, October 2011)
“The Ice Owl,” Carolyn Ives Gilman (The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, November/December 2011)
“The Man Who Bridged the Mist,” Kij Johnson (Asimov’s Science Fiction, October/November 2011)
“The Man Who Ended History: A Documentary,” Ken Liu (Panverse Three, Panverse Publishing)
“With Unclean Hands,” Adam-Troy Castro (Analog Science Fiction and Fact, November 2011)

Novelette
“Fields of Gold,” Rachel Swirsky (Eclipse 4, Night Shade Books)
“Ray of Light,” Brad R. Torgersen (Analog Science Fiction and Fact, December 2011)
“Sauerkraut Station,” Ferrett Steinmetz (Giganotosaurus, November 2011)
“Six Months, Three Days,” Charlie Jane Anders (Tor.com, June 2011)
“The Migratory Pattern of Dancers,” Katherine Sparrow (Giganotosaurus, July 2011)
“The Old Equations,” Jake Kerr (Lightspeed Magazine, July 2011)
“What We Found,” Geoff Ryman (The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, September/October 2011)

Short Story
“Her Husband’s Hands,” Adam-Troy Castro (Lightspeed Magazine, October 2011)
“Mama, We are Zhenya, Your Son,” Tom Crosshill (Lightspeed Magazine, April 2011)
“Movement,” Nancy Fulda (Asimov’s Science Fiction, March 2011)
“Shipbirth,” Aliette de Bodard (Asimov’s Science Fiction, February 2011)
“The Axiom of Choice,” David W. Goldman (New Haven Review, Winter 2011)
“The Cartographer Wasps and the Anarchist Bees,” E. Lily Yu (Clarkesworld Magazine, April 2011)
“The Paper Menagerie,” Ken Liu (The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, March/April 2011)

Ray Bradbury Award for Outstanding Dramatic Presentation
Attack the Block, Joe Cornish (writer/director) (Optimum Releasing; Screen Gems)
Captain America: The First Avenger, Christopher Markus, Stephen McFeely (writers), Joe Johnston (director) (Paramount)
Doctor Who: “The Doctor’s Wife,” Neil Gaiman (writer), Richard Clark (director) (BBC Wales)
Hugo, John Logan (writer), Martin Scorsese (director) (Paramount)
Midnight in Paris, Woody Allen (writer/director) (Sony)
Source Code, Ben Ripley (writer), Duncan Jones (director) (Summit)
The Adjustment Bureau, George Nolfi (writer/director) (Universal)

Andre Norton Award for Young Adult Science Fiction and Fantasy Book
Akata Witch, Nnedi Okorafor (Viking Juvenile)
Chime, Franny Billingsley (Dial Books; Bloomsbury)
Daughter of Smoke and Bone, Laini Taylor (Little, Brown Books for Young Readers; Hodder & Stoughton)
Everybody Sees the Ants, A.S. King (Little, Brown Books for Young Readers)
The Boy at the End of the World, Greg van Eekhout (Bloomsbury Children’s Books)
The Freedom Maze, Delia Sherman (Big Mouth House)
The Girl of Fire and Thorns, Rae Carson (Greenwillow Books)
Ultraviolet, R.J. Anderson (Orchard Books; Carolrhoda Books)

I still have some reading ahead of me, but I’ve already consumed most of the titles listed here. It strikes me as a very strong list, and that’s always great to see.

Congratulations to all the nominees! I look forward to seeing you all at SFWA’s 47th Annual Nebula Awards Weekend in May!

Eating Authors: Steve Miller

Lawrence Schoen — Mon, 20 Feb 2012 12:30:04 +0000

If it’s Monday, then as you’re reading this I’m probably still somewhere in southern California, but by the miracle of the internet (and our good friends at WordPress) this post has shown up on schedule anyway. Here to talk about his most memorable meal is Steve Miller, a fine writer in his own right, but most well known for creating the many Liaden stories and novels in collaboration with his wife, Sharon Lee.

If you haven’t experienced the Liaden Universe, you’re in for a treat. Blending the best elements of adventure, space opera, and romance, Sharon and Steve have written tale after tale overflowing with compelling characters, exotic settings, alien customs, and special complications that come with a family line that specializes in piloting spacecraft. Beginning in 1988 with Agent of Change and continuing nonstop, year after year, through at least three generations to their latest novel-length work, Ghost Ship, their universe fills fourteen books (and that’s not counting the many chapbooks, the two short story compilations, or the various omnibus editions). So the good news is, once you get bitten by the Liaden bug, there’s plenty to read. The bad news is, after you race through them you’ll be left with the rest of us, hungering for the next book to come from the publisher (which will be Dragon Ship, coming in September 2012).

I’ve had the pleasure to know both of them for years and years now, going back before the first appearance of the Amazing Conroy in an issue of Absolute Magnitude, which I mention only because that same issue had a Liaden story as well. Liaden fans are as enthusiastic as they come, and Steve has made a point of keeping them satisfied, going so far as to start a small press, SRM Publisher, just to put out chapbooks of short stories, giving the fans something to read inbetween novel releases. The latest of these, Legacy Systems (aka Adventures in the Liaden Universe® #19), came out earlier this month in Kindle format. That’s rather fitting too, because Steve was one of the first authors to experiment with electronic publishing, long before there were Kindles or Nooks or most of the current crop of e-readers.

I’ll always be indebted to Steve for taking a chance on my own fiction when he felt it was time to expand his small press and publish other authors. SRM Publisher brought out three chapbooks of Tales of the Amazing Conroy, which set the stage for my own novels. So it’s with particular pleasure and delight that I present you with Steve’s recollections of his best meal ever.

LMS: Steve, I think the last time we ate together was at mediocre deli during the NASFiC. I’m sure we’ve both enjoyed better repasts. What springs to mind as your most memorable?

SM: A most memorable meal? I guess I think of meals in terms of people and locations. There were odd family meals where more or less untranslatable things happened (Uncle Murph’s football season “Hail Mary” pass of a loaded bowl of mashed potatoes from one end of a ten foot dining table to the other, for example, in Woodmoor). Perhaps not those, for here.

Doing newspaper work there was dinner with Phillipe Cousteau, in Catonsville. But maybe not… I don’t recall what I ate then.

Within the SF community there was dinner with Damon Knight at the Double T-Diner in Catonsville. There was the lunch with Anne McCaffrey in Atlanta. There was sititng at the dining hall “head table” at Clarion West with Ursula LeGuin, Harlan Ellison, and Vonda McIntyre. There’s a photo from that somewhere on my Facebook I think, but it was cafeteria food, and other than a salad and a glass of Pepsi I’m not sure what was in front of me. Hmmm.

Or else this one — which was both within and without the SF community.

The year was 1980, and it was the November in which Sharon and I got married. While the me-and-Sharon part of things was going pretty well, there’d been other not so fun stuff happening, including an estrangement with my family. Money was, as they say, tight.

Our Thanksgiving plans were slender, with cash being tight. We’d be eating at home, the pair of us, and likely having a glass of wine or two out of a Gallo gallon jug. Home was 56 Lowergate Court, Owings Mills, a war-housing townhouse with 4 rooms that we’d arranged as an office downstairs, an office upstairs, the kitchen and a bedroom… there was no proper living room since our focus was pretty clear: we had writing to do, and we were going to do it. It wasn’t what you might call a good neighborhood by any stretch of the concept.

We had a couple cans of veggies to choose from, and see above cash being tight, we had a turkey roll in the freezer, and a can of cranberry sauce in the fridge. Early Thanksgiving morning though, we got a call from a Drew Farrell, who mentioned that his plans for that day had unfirmed, and that as long as we’d be home, he’d stop by. He also mentioned that he’d bring a pie, if we had turkey. Drew, if you never met him, was a friend I’d met at either the DisClave of 74 or DisCon II, in DC. We’d hit it off during a casual encounter in the artshow, and since he had ideas about publishing and i had ideas, too, and etc… we’d kept in touch, eventually beconing partners in several projects. Aracelli Karri,Inc. was one of those… but I digress.

Drew was driving in from Gaithersburg, which was several hops, skips, and jumps away… but apparently he hadn’t called from Gaithersburg or else there was no traffic on any of the roads since he arrived in record time just after noon pulling up right outside the townhouse in his bright yellow… was it an Opel? He knocked, and roused the cats, and then asked for a help for a second…

Out of the back seat came several large boxes and a cooler, the while he was talking and hauling he mentioned “Hope you don’t mind, but since I’d been cooking I brought a little extra.”

His little extra filled the kitchen table — the place was tiny! — and by the time we were finished he’d unloaded: three bottles of Riesling, two pies (one apple, one pumpkin) some cookies, two loaves of home-baked bread, a large baking dish of yams, a bowl of greenbeans with bacon, and several cans of whipped cream, for which he apologized, since he’d not had time to whip his own…

Our kitchen was just about large enough for this banquet — and after rearranging half the house to keep the food safe from the cats while things were heated and reheated, we kicked back talking over our plans and dreams. Drew’d already been to Africa — but he left that until after dinner, instead grilling us before hand on our current writing projects. After our poor little turkey roll (it was the less expensive, light-meat/dark meat combo roll, IIRC) was baked, we had a long slow meal — good company, great food. His bread inspired us to try more home-baking on our own, later, but at the time it inspired us to extra slices.

After dinner, with dessert, Drew told us about his sojourn to Africa, where he’d been on the IT side of a UN census, and taken lots of photos. He’d also dropped in on Arthur Clarke, who recieved him as if a long time friend, and oh, there was also this guy running an old IBM mainframe that….and there, somehow, went all the hours between eleven AM and eleven PM. Drew finally left about the time the cats reminded us they hadn’t been fed amid all this largess.

There were other meals with Drew over time, but that may have been the best.

Thanks, Steve. Thanksgiving meals are a recurring theme at this feature, and meals like yours make it pretty clear why. Best times, indeed.

Next Monday: Another author and another meal!

ConLang Hangout in one week!

Lawrence Schoen — Thu, 16 Feb 2012 13:00:49 +0000

Next Thursday, at 8:00 p.m. EST, I’ve been invited to be part of a ConLang (that’s “Constructed Languages”) Hangout on Google+.

Who will be there? Glad you asked. The Hangout is the idea of Juliette Wade, language enthusiast and well known blogger of all things linguistic over at TalkToYoUniverse. She’s wise and insightful (as I learned firsthand at last year’s WorldCon in Reno).

She’s also ensured that David Peterson will be on hand as well. David is the President of the Language Creation Society, and creator of the Dothraki language used in the HBO production of George R. R. Martin’s Game of Thrones mini-series.

So, if you’d like to hear people talk about creating languages, and doubtless with examples from Klingon, Dothraki, Elvish, and Na’vi, then mark your calendars for February 23rd, at 8:00 p.m. EST. and look for me, or Juliette, or David on Google+ and join the Hangout!

See you there!

Eating Authors: Karl Schroeder

Lawrence Schoen — Mon, 13 Feb 2012 12:30:37 +0000

Hi there, thanks for joining us as I visit with another author and impertinently inquire about his favorite meal. Why am I doing this? Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Also, the protagonist from my own novels, the Amazing Conroy, is not only a stage hypnotist but also a foodie. So, basically, I’m hoping to steal some good scenes.

This week, my guest is Karl Schroeder, which makes me especially happy because I’m a huge fan of his work. I believe Karl is writing the new future of science fiction, and I love steering people to his work. Seriously, if you haven’t read Lady of Mazes, you need to pause right now and order a copy.

Karl has a Master’s degree in Strategic Foresight and Innovation, a handy area expertise for someone who’s not just a science fiction writer, but also a futurist. A few months ago, when he was Guest of Honor at SF Contario, I had the pleasure of interviewing Karl as part of the convention and getting his thoughts on augmented reality, artificial nature, and thalience (a series of video clips from that interview should be showing up elsewhere on this blog site in the very near future).

In 2000, he published Ventus, his first novel, and then promptly began giving it away online. He followed this with Permanence, and was off and running. Tomorrow will see the release of Ashes of Candesce, the fifth and final book in his Virga series (which also includes Sun of Suns, Queen of Candesce, Pirate Sun, and The Sunless Countries). Some of the best of his short fiction can be found in the collection The Engine of Recall, but as long as I’m recommending things, pick up a copy of Metatropolis, which includes his brilliant “To Hie From Far Cilenia.” That anthology also has stories by some other folks you may have heard of, like John Scalzi, Jay Lake, Tobias Buckell, and Elizabeth Bear; I suspect you’ll like their stuff too, but for my money Karl owns that book.

LMS: Karl, we’ve broken bread together several times, and while I know I’ve enjoyed each meal, I’m sure you have still more interesting experiences to share. What came to mind when I asked you to recount your best meal ever?

KS: It immediately sparked a bunch of memories.

Growing up in the middle of the continent in the middle of the last century, I wasn’t exposed to much variety in food. Oh, our town had the requisite Chinese American restaurant, and we’d go there every now and then for lemon chicken, which was quite the treat—but that was it. I grew up on German Mennonite food, which seems mostly to consist of root vegetables and beef thrown in a pot and boiled until it’s all the same indistinguishable shade of gray. It wasn’t until I was eighteen or nineteen and visiting the big city (Winnipeg) that I had my first transcendent culinary experience, when my friends John and Nancy ordered east Indian food for delivery. It took an extra hour because the driver was sick so the cook himself delivered it—but when I took my first bite it was like a bomb going off in my head. There was actually food like this? I suddenly understood why the British had conquered India: in order to acquire a cuisine. Without question, that was the best meal I’ve ever had.

Of course I’ve since tried dozens of other cooking styles, each being its own revelation, but Indian remains my favourite.

Thanks, Karl, you’ve given me a whole new way to view British Imperialism, and you know? It works!

Next Monday: Another author and another meal!

Eating Authors: Howard V. Hendrix

Lawrence Schoen — Mon, 06 Feb 2012 12:30:49 +0000

Welcome to the morning after an evening of great American tradition. I refer of course to the commercials that aired during the hours between 6:00 and 10:00 p.m. EST. Oh yeah, there was a football game too. Assuming you’re recovered from the quantities of nachos, hot wings, and beer you consumed last night, keep reading because we’re visiting with Howard V. Hendrix as he shares the details of his most memorable meal.

I first met Howard in the Spring of 1999 in Pittsburgh, PA. I was attending my first Nebula Awards weekend, and someone had the idea that some authors should show up at a local club and do a series of readings. There was only a handful of us — myself, a few friends, and Howard. There’s a bond that is formed when reading SF to an audience that has shown up to dance and listen to a different generation’s music. I know, whatever else happens, we’ll always have Pittsburgh.

Howard writes dense, thoughtful science fiction, the kind of writing that takes first place in the Writers of the Future Contest, wins a Sturgeon Award, and earns nominations for the Pushcart Prize and the Nebula Award. His novels include Lightpaths, Standing Wave, Better Angels, Empty Cities of the Full Moon, The Labyrinth Key, and Spears of God . Howard holds a Ph.D. in English Literature (which probably goes a long way to accounting for the scholarly density of his fiction), and when not writing SF pays the bills as Professor Hendrix.

LMS: Howard, we barely managed a sentence or two back at last summer’s Worldcon, so I’m especially glad to get to visit with you a bit here on my blog. Tell me, what’s your most memorable meal.

HVH: The Puppet Theater had no puppets and was not a theater. At least it wasn’t and hadn’t, on the night my wife and I ate there: June 21, 1995. We were both doing research in Glasgow, mine on the history of science at the Kelvingrove Museum, Laurel’s on sixteenth and seventeenth century emblem books at the Hunterian Library and the university.

Because it was the night it was, we thought of Shakespeare, and Oberon, and Titania. In A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Titania, Queen of the Faeries, has a wonderful speech about how global climate change (or at least weird UK weather) is a product of the conflict between herself and Oberon over an Indian boy. That seemed as logical an explanation as any for the drought and heat wave that had been prevailing over Scotland the entire time we’d been there. Many were the Glaswegians sunbathing on the grass at the park and botanical gardens down the road from the B and B where we were staying. I went to the botanical gardens a great deal, since they had a wonderful stand of my favorite flower, the Himalayan blue poppy. I had never seen so many blooms of that flower — nor so many sun-burnt pale people — in my life. Fortunately for the sun-burnt, there seemed to be a plentiful supply of sunburn anesthetic, mostly American beers on the green, oddly enough. (A short time later I too would be sun-burnt after a day of hiking in the Glencoe area, and I would cool that burn with a couple of pints of the local brew at a pub. Call it a cultural exchange.)

Given the high northern latitude of Glasgow, the light of that Summer Solstice went on forever. Everyone seemed to be celebrating the long day and bright weather, and we joined in by going out to dinner at the aforementioned puppetless non-theater which was yet a highly rated restaurant. For all the seeming inappropriateness of that restaurant’s name, there was magic to be had there. We had the best meal of our lives. After all these years, I still remember the main course I ate that night: medallions of lamb and new potatoes.

The lamb was fantastic, but what has stayed with me more was how the potatoes looked and tasted. They were small and multicolored, pinks and reds and blues. And the taste! They were faerie potatoes. I think the magic must have been overseen by spirits not only in the growing but in the cooking too. Surely this is what the Inca emperors of the potato’s native land must have tasted, in the declining sunlight of their long day far away, before their world fell apart. I had never eaten anything like these potatoes before, and have not since, although I have had many a wonderful meal in the intervening years.

I know I can never completely explain why the best part of the best meal of my life (so far) was a singular experience with the presumably lowly potato. I chalk it up to the magic of time and place, and that is explanation enough.

Years later, in 2011 when I was guest editing a special Midsummer Night’s edition of The Pedestal Magazine, the prize story was called “The Indian Boy.”

There are no accidents.

No accidents, indeed. Thanks, Howard.

Next Monday: Another author and another meal!

Eating Authors: Myke Cole

Lawrence Schoen — Mon, 30 Jan 2012 12:30:53 +0000

Welcome back to another installment of asking authors about their favorite meals. This feature was inspired by my protagonist, the Amazing Conroy, who in addition to being a stage hypnotist is also very much a foodie. This week, we hear from Myke Cole, an author I’ve shared a number of meals with over the years. I first met Myke way back when he was a member of my local writers’ workshop, not long after he’d snagged third place in the 2003 Writers of the Future competition.

He’s bounced around a bit since then, and I kind of lost track of him as he went off and had adventures as a security contractor, government civilian and military officer. After three tours in Iraq and lending a hand with the Deepwater Horizon oil spill, Myke is back to going full force on his writing career. His first book, Shadow Ops: Control Point, is due out tomorrow (though I’m told people have been snatching up copies since last week). This will befollowed by, Shadow Ops: Fortress Frontier, and Shadow Ops: Breach Zone in 2013 and 2014, respectively.

LMS: Myke, you’ve been bouncing around the globe these last few years, some of that food must have made an impact, right?

MC: It wasn’t so much the food as the company. I grew sour on our mission in Iraq pretty quickly, but that didn’t stop me from going. My focus shifted from strategic to tactical. I couldn’t divert our misplaced war effort, but I could save individual lives. That became my drive through the second and third tours.

But there are things they drill into you. The first is not to trust the Iraqis. You never knew when the Shi’a were Sadrist operators, or the Sunni were secretly al-Qa’ida, or the Christians were just plain fed up with you mucking about in their country. You didn’t want them on your six. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, you’d be fine, but we all knew guys who won that particular lottery.

They were dead.

That conflict ate me alive. On the one hand, I wanted to know the Iraqis, I wanted them to understand that I agreed with them, that I knew we shouldn’t be there, that I was sorry for all we had done, that I was there trying to help in what small ways I could. On the other hand, I had been trained and trained until my head rested on a swivel. I never let them get behind me, I worked overtime to shred letters that came from home, lest somebody local learn where my family lived. That hyper-alertness never fades. It forms the core of what most people call PTSD.

Maybe I’m kidding myself, but I like to think that some of them got it, that they could feel and see what was going on in so many of us. But it finally came across during one of the times I linked up with Iraqi National Guardsmen (INGs) near the US Embassy compound. There were three of them, chatting with one of our interpreters and a couple of local contractors. They were gathered around a huge plate of Quzi, which is a pale imitation of the Jordanian dish called Mansaf. For these guys, it was essentially a huge pile of rice dusted with some suspect looking brown spice, shot through with sliced nuts and raisins. Buried in the middle was a chunk of lamb roughly the consistency of a tire. But they asked me to join them, and that was something. I was terrified, and furious at myself for being terrified. I was unarmed, and there were six of them, and even our ‘terps weren’t one hundred percent. It was in a motor pool and there was nobody else around.

But these were the people I was supposedly there to protect, and I was able to remind myself of that and bite down on my issues for a little while. And I experienced what I already knew: that they were warm and funny, and as curious about me as I was about them. We spoke broken English and Arabic and teased one another about both. The Quzi was nasty and screwed up my stomach for days, but it was the best meal I’ve ever had, because it was one of the closest things to “good” that came out of my time over there.

Thank you, Myke, both for the reminder that a meal doesn’t have to taste good to have a positive impact, and moreover thanks for your service.

Next Monday: Another author and another meal!

Awards Eligibility – # buffalito #tlh #klingon

Lawrence Schoen — Fri, 27 Jan 2012 13:30:53 +0000

The nominations deadline for the Nebula Awards is February 15th, 2012, at 11:59pm PST.

The nominations deadline for the Hugo Awards is Sunday, March 11, 2012, 11:59 p.m. PDT.

And this is my official statement of what I have that I hope you’ll consider nominating so that I might land on a ballot this year.

I seem to be building up some credibility as a champion of small press, both as a publisher and because almost everything I’ve written lately has come out through small and micro-presses. Such stories have to work harder to get on ballots, but as the Hugo ballot a couple years ago revealed, it can be done. Ready? Here we go then.

SHORT STORY (Nebula and Hugo eligible):
“Yesterday’s Taste.” I wrote this short story at the request of Colin Harvey. He bought it for the anthology TRANSTORIES which was published posthumously two months ago by Aeon Press in Ireland. It’s another in the series of Amazing Conroy stories, so it’s intended to be somewhat light and humorous, but to me it will always be somewhat bittersweet because it’s the last thing Colin and I ever talked about. Coincidentally (no, really), I posted this to the Freebies section of my website just yesterday. Follow that link and you can download or read a PDF of the story.

NOVEL (Nebula and Hugo eligible):
Buffalito Contingency, my second published novel, came out last March. I believe it is the best thing I’ve written to date, but because it came out from a small press (Hadley Rille Books) not very many people have heard of it, let alone read it.But publishing is changing — for the better, I think — and having small press novels making some of the awards ballots seems like a good thing too. Assuming of course that you like it enough to nominate it.

FANCAST (Hugo eligible):
And finally, I only recently realized that DaHjaj Hol, the daily Klingon Language podcast that I did in 2011 (yes, every single #$%^& day) is eligible for the Hugo in the “Best Fancast” category (this link that will take you to the vast selection of podcasts). Mind you, I think you should also be nominating the brilliant podcast “Writing Excuses,” and I hope they win this year, but I certainly wouldn’t turn down a shiny rocket ship pin if my podcast makes the short list So, if you think it’s past time that Klingon is properly represented on the Hugo ballot, feel free to nominate DaHjaj Hol. Warriors everywhere will praise your name!

Thank you for your willingness to read my words. May they bring a smile to you.

Buffalito Winter Freebie!

Lawrence Schoen — Thu, 26 Jan 2012 13:30:48 +0000

You know, it’s been a while since I posted a Freebie. Time to rectify that.

If you head over to the Freebies section of my website (http://www.lawrencemschoen.com/schoen-freebies/), you’ll find a new addition, a PDF of a recently published short story entitled “Yesterday’s Taste.”

This is a Conroy and Reggie story that I wrote for Colin Harvey. He was putting together Transtories, an anthology for Aeon Press in Ireland, and asked me to send him something. The gimmick of the anthology was to base some aspect of the story on a word that began with “trans.” It seemed like a fun challenge, and the result was “Yesterday’s Taste. Colin accepted the story less than 24 hours after I emailed it to him. Tragically, Colin died of a stroke in the summer of 2011, two and a half months before the book’s release.

I’m very fond of the story, and I hope you like it.

Eating Authors: Mark W. Tiedemann

Lawrence Schoen — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 12:30:38 +0000

We continue our series of weekly visits with science fiction and fantasy authors and their culinary recollections, or as I like to call this feature: Eating Authors. Our guest today is one of my very favorite writers, Mark Tiedemann. Like many of this feature’s guests, Mark is an alumnus of Clarion. He’s best known for the dazzling short stories and novels that make up his Secantis Sequence (Compass Reach, Metal of Night, Peace & Memory, and Other Ways:Three Tales From The Secant ), and if you haven’t read them, you need to rush right out and start because this is galaxy-wide SF unlike anything you’ve experienced before! You’d think that would be enough for an author, but no, Mark also has the distinction of being one of only a few authors to play in Isaac Asimov’s sandbox, penning three robot mystery novels (Mirage, Chimera, and Aurora) set in the years between Asimov’s The Robots of Dawn and Robots and Empire.

When he’s not writing, or committing photography, Mark has the distinction of being the president of the Missouri Center for the Book. I pursued Mark for months, pestering him to send me a description of his most memorable meal. When he finally did, I promptly buried it under a virtual pile of other email (sorry about that, Mark). Fortunately, I found it again, and now I can share it with you.

LMS: Mark, your time has come at last. If you’d be so kind, speak to the good readers of this blog about your most memorable meal.

MT: Sharing meals is one of the best parts of friendship. You can eat with anybody, but among friends it’s not just food. There’s renewal, impromptu ritual, celebration, even occasionally validation. Especially when the meal is more than just a sack of burgers and fizzy water in a paper cup. Food and friendship enhance each other. The most memorable meals are always with friends, but is it the food or the company that make them so?

In some cases, the answer is: both.

I’ve had many excellent meals by myself or in company with relative strangers, but the memory of them is often hazy and sometimes gone. Some other event is required to nail them down. I’ve also had countless mediocre meals in company with good friends that made the occasion memorable despite the culinary shortcomings.

That said, I can without hesitation describe the best meal I’ve ever had.

Nicola Griffith and Kelley Eskridge are two of my best friends. We met at Clarion, the workshop, in 1988 and of all the excellent folks there at the time, Nicola and Kelley became the kind of lifelong friends everyone should be graced with. First and foremost they are exceptional human beings. Both of them also happen to be among the finest writers I’ve encountered. I watched them falling in love during the course of the workshop (and feel lucky that I was aware enough to recognize what was happening) and since Nicola moved to the United States, Donna and I have been to their wedding in Atlanta, guests in their homes on several occasions, hosted both of them in our home (though simultaneously only once), took Nicola from St. Louis to Kansas City to win her Nebula Award (for Slow River) and generally shared a great deal of good over the course of our friendship.

Even so, it came as a surprise when they invited us to their 20th Anniversary Celebration, late June of 2008. They live in Seattle now and we’re still in St. Louis. They had chosen a select group of their closest friends from all over the country to attend a special dinner party. Just because.

There was no question of not going. It’s a long flight from St. Louis to Seattle. Kelley had set up a block of rooms at a nearby Holiday Inn and met us there to guide us into the neighborhood where they had moved since the last time we had visited. They live on a quiet street, at the bottom of a hill, near a strip of parkland. On a pleasant Saturday evening, several people from all parts of their lives gathered to dine on an exquisite array of foods, prepared by a chef brought in for the occasion.

Chef Becky Selengut did an impressive job. At each course she gave a brief lecture about the food and the preparation.

Sweet pea pancakes with applewood smoked bacon, minted fresh cream and pickled red onions to start, followed by a cold avocado and coconut with shiso oil soup (or “half pints” as she called them).

We moved on to poached quail eggs on toast, frisee with truffle vinagrette, sturgeon caviar, and seared boletus mushrooms. I remember flavors mingling in my mouth I had never encountered. (This was the first time I’d ever had caviar—I’m not much for fish.)

Donna had the roasted black cod with pinot noir sauce, done with morels, fennel shavings and candied fennel rings; I had the grilled lamb chops with quinoa cakes, spinach puree with foie gras (another first, foie gras), and tomato jam.

Dessert was a Washington strawberry cobbler with sweet cream basil biscuits, olive oil (!) ice cream, and balsamic syrup.

Along with all this came an assortment of wines, the pinnacle of which was an ’87 Rioja…

My palate loved me. Too many new flavors, all done by someone who clearly understands food at its finest.

But the best part was the evening’s quiet celebration. There was deep affection throughout the night, stories, intersections, excellent conversation. The common bond were these two women we all obviously held in high esteem and respect. That evening was a gift they’d given themselves, but it was a communal gift, requiring all of us to give as well, and that was done unreservedly. We experienced not only haute cuisine but, if you will forgive the misused French, haute colloque.

The most memorable meals are always in the company of friends.

Thank you, Mark. It may sound trite but I have to go with it: truer words were never said!

Next Monday: Another author and another meal!

How I’m spending the first snow of 2012

Lawrence Schoen — Sat, 21 Jan 2012 16:05:03 +0000

Actually, the snow isn’t a big deal. I’ve already shoveled and salted the walkway. The stuff in the driveway is only about three inches deep (and I just got new tires two weeks ago!). The roads are fine. So, it should be Saturday as usual, except…

Today’s installment of Saturday Chinese Buffet has been postponed. No, it’s not due to the snow. It’s because I’m on my way to a hypnosis seminar in Philadelphia. I promise to resume eating Chinese food tomorrow.

Now… sleep!