My first Ad Astra is over, and I didn’t completely embarrass myself. Huzzah!
I’ll admit to being intimidated at first, not knowing anyone. It’s a good-sized local convention with a lot of history and people know already each other. What I finally realized, though, is that I just needed to _politely_ join in the conversation. Everyone was welcoming and, even better, assumed I was Canadian. I swear, I am in all but name.
So, due to timing of unfortunate circumstances, it’s become rather convenient for me to go to Ad Astra, April 13-15th. This will, notably, be my first convention since moving to Canada.
I’m relatively new to both country and the local genre community. I know there are a few members of Codex going and I recognize a few names from the panelist list (including Ed Greenwood, who was very kind towards a 19-year old me at Gen Con Milwaukee some years ago) but I’m otherwise winging this.
The Hugo Nominations were announced this afternoon. I watched the cheers streaming on Twitter, mostly before I saw the nomination itself. Congrats to all nominees. I take particular happiness in seeing many familiar names among the bunch.
Among Others, Jo Walton (Tor) A Dance With Dragons, George R. R. Martin (Bantam Spectra) Deadline, Mira Grant (Orbit) Embassytown, China Miéville (Macmillan / Del Rey) Leviathan Wakes, James S. A.
We spent the better part of this week in Toronto — an impromptu trip after receiving a call with some concerning medical news on Sunday night. So, for the first half of the week we’ve explored the inner workings of the Toronto hospital system. As someone who more or less grew up inside hospitals, I’ve made some observations:
Whoever is running the parking system is making a killing. We spent as much on parking as we did on food for two.
Urban Green Man: An Archetype of Renewal, edited by Adria Laycraft & Janice Blaine, and to be published by EDGE Science Fiction & Fantasy.
The Green Man has haunted our churches and buildings and global subconscious for countless generations, becoming just another forgotten mythology that is relegated to garden statuary and English pub signs.
No longer. Witness as the Green Man rises to capture our imagination in this anthology of original new fiction, the Urban Green Man.
I’ve been following the news regarding Canadian Immigration pretty closely — not surprising considering my immigrant status. Last week this article in the Globe and Mail talks about the percentage of immigrants who settle in Ontario vs. other provinces, which kind of bored me. What was interesting, though, were two issues in the continued fight against immigration fraud. When Andrea and I filled out our application, most of our time was spent collecting evidence to prove our relationship — records of emails, phone calls, meetings between us, friends, and family, etc.
Sometimes, when I sit down and stare at a white blank page, my heart races. I fear the mistakes I’m about to make, at the same time I’m in awe of the creation about to spring forth the tip of my pen. I’ve done it before. I’ll do it again. I am not a fast writer, but I am a sprinter.
Sprinting is this — pen to paper, writing around 500 words/day until a story is done.
I sat down this morning, meaning to write a blog post about focus and patience, with OCD tendencies. It would have been my first substantial post since the beginning of the month, but when I logged in to WordPress I found my site unresponsive. Temperamental, even. Other sites I host on the same server, but different accounts, were fine. I was about to blame my half-full cup of coffee when Google interceded and warned me that my site was being suspicious as all fuck.