What went before: So, I've read 108 out of a possible 197 manuscript pages. Will finish that tomorrow.

Otherwise, a Very Quiet day here at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory (except Now, because Trooper is yelling for Happy Hour NEOW!). I am for some reason Just Exhausted, so it will be an early night hereabouts.

I watched "Rogue" last night from Dr. Who. The Doctor did look ever-so-tasty in his Regency duds, though I'm going to be very disappointed in him if he doesn't find the lad.

Hope everyone has had an enjoyable Friday.

Stay safe; I'll see you tomorrow.

Saturday. Cloudy and cooler.

Slept late. Thinking about sleeping some more, but! Today is change-the-cat-boxes day, so -- duty first, then nap, if I'm still So Inclined.

It rained last night -- a lot -- and the 'beans are calling for more, off and on, during the day.

Tali and Rook did engage me before breakfast in a vigorous game of Spring, which presently goes like this:

1 Rook and Tali Gather Round, looking up at me Expectantly.

2 I Produce a Spring and show it to them.

3 They wriggle.

4 I throw the spring.

5 They chase it at turnpike speeds (Tali runs faster than Rook, but this isn't an advantage, as she often over-shoots the target).

6 Rook (usually) recovers the spring (if Tali manages to get to it first, he takes it away from her), and brings it back to me, so I can throw it again.

6a If Tali retains the spring, she bats it around until she loses it, then comes back to me, eyes wide, waiting for me to Produce a Spring. However!

6b The game ends when the spring is lost.

7 VARY: Rook hides the spring and then comes back to me, eyes wide. I go find it and throw it again. This Variation has a three-throw limit or ends when 6b is invoked.

So, that's the news from the Cat Farm. I note that this time last Saturday, I was driving twisty little roads through tidy Vermont towns in the Pouring! Down! Rain! and wondering if it just made more sense to pull over, buy a house, and never drive anywhere again.

What're y'all doing that's interesting, today?

james_davis_nicoll

Voters in Conservative and NDP ridings die younger, study suggests

madfilkentist posting in

filk

OVFF has a new hotel: the Airport Marriott Hotel in Columbus. They say room rates and a reservation code will be available soon.

sovay

For the seventy-first yahrzeit of Alan Turing, I have been listening to selections from the galaxy-brained fusion of Michael Vegas Mussmann and Payton Millet's Alan Turing and the Queen of the Night (2025) as well as the glitterqueer mad science of Kele Fleming's "Turing Test" (2024). Every year I discover new art in his memory, like Frank Duffy's A lion for Alan Turing (2023). Lately I treasure it like spite. The best would be countries doing better by their queer and trans living than their honored and unnecessary dead.

Current Music: Kele Fleming, "Turing Test"

sovay

As it turns out, what goes on with my hand is that it's going to have arthritis, but with any luck on the same glacial timeline as the kind that runs in my family, and in the meantime I have been referred back to OT. Maybe there will be more paraffin.

My parents as an unnecessary gift for taking care of the plants while they were out of town—mostly watering a lot of things in pots and digging the black swallow-wort out of the irises—gave me Eddie Muller's Dark City Dames: The Women Who Defined Film Noir (2001/2025), which not only fits the theme of this year's Noir City: Boston, but contains such useful gems as:

One of the most common, if wrong-headed, criticisms of film noir is that it relegates women to simplistic archetypes, making them Pollyannas or femmes fatales, drippy good girls or sinister sexpots. People who believe this nonsense have never seen a noir starring Ella Raines.

Ella Raines is indeed all that and a drum solo on top, but she is not a unique occurrence and I can only hope that people who have not been paying attention to Karen Burroughs Hannsberry or Imogen Sara Smith will listen to the Czar of Noir when he writes about its complicated women, because I am never going to have the platform to get this fact through people's heads and I am never going to let up on it, either.

Anyway, I learned a new vocabulary word.

Current Music: Lucy Dacus, "Most Wanted Man"

ericcoleman

A wonderful school is in danger of closing. Everything is explained here. Help them out if you can! Spread the word if you can't!
https://www.gofundme.com/f/saving-dreamflight

moonhare

A strange little animated series on Max, from 2023, about the Antichrist, and Armageddon, sort of… I started it for the furry characters, particularly Mefisto, and got drawn into the fun, odd, rambling storyline. Available in English (dubbed). Eight episodes. Worth a binge!

Mefisto. Surprisingly there aren’t a lot of pics of him out there…

…or of this guy, Waslag.

Current Mood: cheerful
Current Music: Fire, Arthur Brown

siliconshaman

( You're about to view content that the journal owner has advised should be viewed with discretion. )

Current Mood: amused

yhlee

I'm on hiatus here generally; if you've emailed me and haven't heard back, I'm triaging due to work/other commitments. (In one case, there's someone with, I think, a name starting with C who emailed me a lovely note the week after my concussion and I can't find the email; I'm convinced I accidentally concussedly deleted it because my hand-eye/focus were so shot I kept hitting random keys; if that's you, I'm very sorry!) I will try to catch up when work/life permit. :]

james_davis_nicoll

A foundling boy raised by a great snake becomes intrigued by a reclusive calligrapher living near the river snake and boy call home.

Numamushi by Mina Ikemoto Ghosh

sovay

As my day centrally involved a very long-awaited referral finally coming through and foundering immediately on the shoals of the American healthcare system, it wasn't a very good one. The CDC called for my opinions on vaccination which it turned out I was not permitted to state for the record without a minor child in the house. Because the call was recorded for quality assurance, I said just in case that I had children in my life if not my legal residence and I supported their vaccination so as to protect them from otherwise life-threatening communicable diseases and did not express my opinion of the incumbent secretary of health and human services and his purity of essence. I got hung up on before I could tell my family stories from before the polio vaccine and the MMR.

Of course the man in the White House used the Boulder attack to justify his latest travel ban. Burned Jews are good for his business. I appreciate this op-ed from Eric K. Ward. I hope it reaches anyone it's meant to. I thought I was jaundiced about people and now I think I'm just in liver failure.

It would never have occurred to me that a video for Talking Heads' "Psycho Killer" (1977) should have anything to do with psychological realism, but Saoirse Ronan seems to have had a great time with it.

Current Music: Sam Fender, "Tyrants"

redbird

We had a *weird* power outage today: most but not all of the apartment lost power. Mercifully, we did not lose power to the study, where I've been sitting quietly in the air conditioning all day (the high was 35C/95F). Our first thought was that something weird had happened to our apartment's power. Cattitude spent some time on the phone with the management company, which sent a technician. The technician looked things over and told us to call Eversource.

Some piece of their equipment broke, leaving 37 customers without power, according to the outage map, including us and our upstairs neighbors who also had power in part of each apartment. It took them several hours to fix, but fortunately we got our lights back before it was entirely dark out. The oddest-feeling bit of this was realizing that I could plug my phone in to charge, in the middle of a power outage.

I have been doing almost nothing today, to avoid straining my knee*. It's feel better now than last night, but still not great, and I'm having trouble using the quad cane correctly: even moving slowly, my foot and the cane are landing with one an inch or so ahead of the other (sometimes the foot is forward, sometimes it's behind). Tomorrow is supposed to be a lot cooler, but I'm still planning to stay home, and hopefully do some stretching.

* Yes, I buried the lede in yesterday's post, because the googly-eyed train was more interesting.

moonhare

Finally got the garden in last week!

Pumpkin side- four Bonnie seedlings and four hills of Burpee seeds.

Main garden- eight Burpee plum tomatoes, a beefsteak plant, and a cherry tomato plant, eight Bonnie bell peppers, and two Bonnie cucumber seedlings at the head of a row of Burpee cucumber seeds.

And checking the garden this afternoon I found that the cuke and pumpkin seeds had already sprouted.

Tomorrow I’ll water as we’ve had some unseasonably hot temps this week. I usually bury my soaker hoses and plant over them, but this year I’ll try them next to the plants themselves. Shade is an increasing problem as the trees around of the garden just keep growing!

Current Mood: pleased
Current Music: Scarecrow, John Mellencamp

rolanni

Sharon says: I think that these two installments by Steve Miller explain themselves pretty well. Back in the day, Cyberplane 1 and 2 won a web-writing award, the name of which escapes me at this distance. We were nicer to each other on the internet, back then.

Cyberplane #1

This is the first issue of Cyberplane; it is a direct descendant of the old Paper Plane fanzine that I published when I lived at Apt 3A 119 Willow Bend Drive, Owings Mills, Md., 21117. In some ways I'm sorry that it's not appearing in the original format of a snailmailed, mimeographed personalzine....on the other hand I gave that device -- that mimeo machine -- away to some fans in deepest PA, where it may yet turn out crudsheets with every fourth crank of the handle.

So Cyberplane #1 comes to you via the web from Steve Miller, RR2, Box 4570, Winslow, ME 04901. LoCs (letters of comment) can be sent via email to kinzel@mint.net; additional issues will arrive webward from time to time, if anyone notices this issue. You CAN send stamps, though I'm not sure what the correct postage should be...This is a by whim production; there are no subscribers. Copyright 1995 by Steve Miller. The textured background is my own; I also make web pages....

....If none of that makes sense to you, perhaps I should mention that long ago and far away I was considered a science fiction fan. That was a technical term back when most science fiction was in books and magazines and fans were readers rather than watchers. Many, many fans were also writers, and some of the fans I dealt with have, like me, become "filthy pros" in one field of writing or another.

I have, alas, not given up many of my fannish ways. I still think of the year not in traditional holidays but in condays: April, BaltiCon and MiniCon weekend...also known as Easter. DisClave weekend, also known as Memorial Day to the uninitiated. And of course, WorldCon...frequently known as Labor Dayweek. Having been to something over 100 cons over the years my inclination to think in this fashion may perhaps be understood.

I also have kept many of my fannish odds and ends. My Kelly Freas caricature, my old x-rated issue of Holier Than Thou, many of my convention badges. And, of course, the illos sent to me by artists for the next issue of my fanzine. Original art!

Illo by Rotsler

I am not above the lure of the convention's song. I am, however, too cynical to enjoy sleeping on the floor in crash space; and too experienced to travel cross country on $6 a day with any degree of comfort. Once upon a time however....

Con-Fession of a Con-Addict

In the summer of 1973 the fannish world had a near miss. Not only did the famous Khoutek comet fail to mesmerize and astonish billions, it being one of the real duds of the 20th century, right up there with the Edsel, the Lisa, the Apple III, and the Commordore IV, but also I failed to attend my first "real" sf convention.

I'm not sure who lucked out: I was at Clarion West and rather than go out to the con (in Vancouver perhaps?) I spent my weekend working on my writing. Somehow I thought that was much more to the purpose, having traveled by bus from Baltimore to Seattle to attend a writing workshop, and not to sit around talking trash with a bunch of mere fans. Sigh. I was as opinionated then as I am now and with far less experience to back it up... And so my first convention didn't happen months after I returned from Clarion.

You can probably blame Sue Miller, who was then Sue Nice, for my first appearance at convention. She read Analog every month ( I read Amazing, Fantastic, and IF or one of it's brethren) and it wasn't unusual for us to stare at the con listings and wonder if we should go to one of these things. When it was apparent that I was actually going to get a job in the field...well, it was obvious that we needed to go to a convention. And since we'd missed BaltiCon that year, the first con we got to was DisClave.

I will not bore you with the entire details of the event; I couldn't, having mixed them up with so many other events that took place at the Sheraton Park. What struck me from the start, and what helped lead to my addiction, was that I was among readers -- lots of readers! -- who knew enough about the same things I did to agree with me -- or argue with me -- from a position of information. These people might LOOK weird, but they didn't think it odd that one might happen to pick up a book at 7 PM and put down the second or third book in the series at 6 AM just before going to work...

In short order I became involved in BSFS, the Baltimore Science Fantasy Society, and I became a con fan. I'd drop everything to run to Pghlange, and I'd go to anything dealing with SF at the Sheraton Park hotel...an edifice that could probably have been bought for a permanent worldcon home for the amount of money that fans spent there.

My involvement in fandom, and in convention fandom in particular, got to the point that I might begin a conversation with someone at a room party in, say, Kentucky, continue it the next week in say, Michigan, and finish it at a party in, say Ohio, three weeks later. Not only might I have these kinds of conversations, I faunched after them. I needed them.

The energy of conventions got in my blood; I found myself able and (all too!) willing to give directions to hotels and restaurants in Anne Arbor and Washington DC and Columbus (that's in Ohio and is one of the least visited cities in the US). I also found myself recognizing stretches of interstate 400 miles away from home from the last time I'd been there -- say three weeks before.

At the risk of sounding a bit like one of Andy Offut's convention speeches, there I was, a young man from the backwoods of Owings Mills, Maryland and I was not only going places, but I was doing things in those places and I was even welcomefar from home. This was all a bit of a surprise to me. So much so that I needed hints about which cheese to eat (and Joe Haldeman may still consider me uncouth for never having had feta cheese in my life at the time we happened to be at the same party at a con in Ann Arbor); but I came from a poor but boring background where I'd led a very sheltered life away from anything but the blandest and most Baltimore of foods.

I also discovered the unexpected lure of all night partying. As my involvement grew from wide-eyed innocent to WorldCon bidding insider I became more and more involved in the faanish side of things and less in the sercon (serious constructive) side of things. Oh, I still wrote my fiction and my book reviews, but I was not as likely to attend the inevitable "Universe Building" panel as I was to hit all of the open and and as many of the closed parties as I could.

Along the way, I lost my way. Some of the all night parties led to waking up in someone else's room. Some ended up with a quiet breakfast with someone I'd kissed for the first time three hours before. Some ended up merely prelude to a virtually sleepless weekend followed by a 20 hour crash when I got home. Work and homelife suffered....

And so by the time of the Miami worldcon my marriage was on the rocks; even as my father (who was living in Miami on a houseboat with a 19 year-old girlfriend) was telling me to "hang on to that girl", the former Sue Nice was plainly not long to be Mrs. Steve Miller. The world of the con and the mundane world are not meant to be lived simultaneously for long periods of time...

For a short while I used conventions to avoid being alone. Then, rather suddenly, my writing was selling, I was reviewing books for the Baltimore Sun, and my new position as editor of a weekly community newspaper made conventions harder to get to.

This is a work in progress...thanks for your understanding-- Try Steve Miller If you haven't had enough you can try number 2 in the series

rolanni

Cyberplane #2

This is the second issue of Cyberplane; it is a direct descendant of the old Paper Plane fanzine that I published when I lived in Owings Mills, Md. I lived in Owings Mills for close to 20 years with brief time out for visits to Seattle, WA and some semi-communal living in Columbia, Md. and Reisterstown, Md.

Cyberplane #2 comes to you via the web from Steve Miller, RR2, Box 4570, Winslow, ME 04901, where I live with my wife, Sharon Lee (despite rumours on GEnie and rec.arts.sf.written to the contrary) and a stalwart band of rescued cats who have joined the quest.

LoCs (letters of comment) can be sent via email to kinzel@mint.net; additional issues will arrive webward from time to time. In support, you CAN send stamps, personal photos your mother wouldn't approve of, silver dimes, quarters, half-dollars, or dollars, or canned salmon. This is a by whim production; there are no subscribers. Copyright 1996 by Steve Miller.

The textured background is my own; I also make web pages. The photograph above is the gift of a fan and was probably taken after 9 PM on a Saturday night at a convention on the somewhere on the East Coast in the year 1977. This may actually have been taken at the WorldCon in Miami...and I see my hair was going grey then in a few spots more than 18 years ago.

What has gone before

In the first issue of Cyberplane I mentioned that science fiction cons had gotten in my blood. The truth is that, even though I was writing for much of my living in fields outside of SF, most of my community was still within the SF world.
This began to become a problem as my relationship with Sue Miller deteriorated, for we were seen as a unit. Additionally, for several years we were extremely active in BSFS, hosting parties and meetings at our large apartment in Owings Mills (sometimes with more than a hundred attendees over a six or eight hour span) as well as acting as Baltimore in 80 ambassadors in Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, York (PA), and Wilmington, NC.

And so, I'd found myself at loose ends within the SF community and also found myself exposed to other creative types in the music world I was covering for various newspapers. Thus, when I met re-met Sharon Lee at a writing course I was taking at UMBC (where we were both looking (sigh) for easy credits) I was happy to find a science fiction-oriented person to be around again... and also pleased to find someone who was serious about writing.

I'd been exposed to the poets, the would-be great American novelists, and the newspaper people and found some of fandom's self-centeredness wearing. In Sharon's presence though the wonder-and-fun part of SF came through again; and the fan feuds and convention-mongering fell into the background. Oddly enough, it was Sharon's influence and goals (along with those of friend Drew Farrell) that moved me into some of my most intensive convention-going.

The effort, first, to put together the Star Swarm News as a new kind of science fiction publication, failed. We never got the capital infusion that we needed so badly, and the concept (later echoed in the somewhat successful Aboriginal SF) was itself ignored. Fans, it seemed, didn't want newspapers.

After Aracelli Karri, Inc. essentially went belly up and with it the Star Swarm News itself, Sharon and I moved into gear with Sharon's lifelong dream -- her own bookstore. That melded well with the art agenting I'd been doing on the side, and so was born DreamsGarth.

rolanni

For those who were wondering about 2025's chapbook (remember that?) -- roughed out, including the back matter, but not the front matter, we're looking at 29,780 words/136 manuscript pages. Contents are: Author's Explanation, Neutral Ground, Outtake: The Healer Removed; Core Values; Text of the Heinlein Acceptance Speech.

This is still in Very Rough Shape, and it naturally takes second place to the novel, which! I'll begin reading tomorrow, because, yes, I DID get All The Stuff Done, and it is time -- nay! past time! -- to go back to work.

It's my intention to post the first two installments (the only two installments I can find, and, indeed, possibly the only two that were written) of Cyberplane, Steve Miller's electronic fanzine from 1996, to The Usual Places, possibly tonight, and Devote Myself To My Craft, tomorrow.

Which is to say, Friday on the East Coast of the USA will be a Planned Electron-Free Day at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

So! Everybody stay safe; I'll see you, for sure, on Saturday.

rolanni

I promised to post this before I left for BaltiCon, so that people could read what I intended to say.

It's worth noting here, for those of you who may someday be called upon to give a speech before a live audience, up on the stage, that, unless your eyes are much better than mine (not impossible), you won't be able to read your speech. Memorize the Key Points. Really. It will save you some adrenaline.

So, here you are -- 630ish words. Stage Directions in CAPS.

Sharon Lee Acceptance Speech, Heinlein Award, May 23, 2025

It's traditional on occasions like this to ask the people you meet, "What was YOUR first Balticon?"

Well. Some of you may not know this, but I'm FROM Baltimore, and for many years, BaltiCon was my Home Convention.

But my FIRST BaltiCon – that was Balticon TEN – in 1976.

At that time in my life, I had no idea that there were science fiction conventions, and no idea that there were science fiction fans. I wanted to be a writer – so I entered a short story contest.

PAUSE

And I won.

My prize was: Membership in Balticon 10, $25 in cash that I immediately spent on books in the dealers room, an introduction to that year's Guest of Honor – who was Isaac Asimov, and introductions to the judges of the short story contest.

One of the judges was a writer named Steve Miller, who happened to be running the art show. We spoke VERY briefly.

PAUSE

About a year later, I met Steve Miller again. We were by chance taking the same college writing course because we both wanted FINGER QUOTES "easy credits."

After class, we got to talking.

Then we moved in with each other.

AND THEN, we started to write together – as you do.

PAUSE

Now Steve -- STEVE was a science fiction fan. He was active in the Baltimore Science Fiction Society as the Club MOP – that's MINISTER OF PROPAGANDA – and vice chair of the Baltimore in 80 WorldCon bid. He was a writer and a reviewer. He'd also been a performance poet, AND the founding curator of the Kuhn Library Science Fiction Research Collection at the University of Maryland at Baltimore County.

PAUSE

The point of all this being that – by the time I met him, Steve had read an Awful Lot of science fiction.

I was a reader, and I'd read SOME science fiction, including a book by some guy named Robert Heinlein – CITIZEN OF THE GALAXY.

PAUSE

WHICH? I didn't like.

So, I was – a little surprised when we were shelving books together in OUR apartment to see QUITE A NUMBER of titles by this Heinlein guy in Steve's MANY boxes of books.

PAUSE

Now, we had a LOT of duplicate titles.

But the only duplicate Heinlein title – in fact the ONLY Heinlein title in MY many boxes of books – was STRANGER IN A STRANGE LAND.

"So this Heinlein guy – is he any good?" I asked.

Steve looked at me – you know the Look? The LIBRARIAN DEATH STARE where they're trying to figure out How Much You Can Take?

Then he reached into a box, grabbed some books and started to make a pile next to my knee.

THE MOON IS A HARSH MISTRESS
THE ROLLING STONES
STAR BEAST
BETWEEN PLANETS
THE DOOR INTO SUMMER
GLORY ROAD

"That'll get you started," he said.

Well. It was ONLY six books, and I was in love. I read them – AND THEN YES I READ THE REST, because this guy Heinlein DID have something going for him. His books were FUN.

This is key. We tend to discount FUN, as if it lessens the value of whatever we're doing, instead of being one of the most important things in life.

PAUSE AND LOOK OUT OVER THE AUDIENCE

I mentioned that Steve and I began to write together. We wrote together for over forty years, collaborating on MORE THAN 100 Published Works -- BECAUSE IT WAS FUN. Our pact was that we'd stop when it WASN'T fun anymore.

PAUSE

So, there we were writing, and having fun, and in 2003 we were invited to attend BaltiCon 37 as Writer Guests of Honor.

PAUSE

That was fun, too.

In 2016, we came back to help celebrate BaltiCon's 50th anniversary.

And now – BaltiCon 59.

LOOK OUT OVER THE AUDIENCE

Thank you, BaltiCon. My life would have been MUCH different without you.

TURN TO BEATRICE IF SHE'S STILL ON STAGE

Thank YOU, Heinlein Board, for choosing to honor the universe Steve and I built together.

TURN TO AUDIENCE

And most of all – THANK YOU – for reading – for listening – and for having fun.

PAUSE; GATHER PAPERS

Have a good con.

--end--

For comparison purposes, here's the link to what I Actually Said.

rolanni

What went before ONE: I have achieved and sited roses. The tiny one is the baby from the front garden. The yellow one is True Kindness, which is a hybrid tea rose, said to be hardy, disease resistant and heat tolerant.

If this works out, I'll try an heirloom rose.

I have also registered for the watercolor class and conquered the rest of my errands, save the bank, which is a Phone Call.

What went before TWO: So! I have a couple more things to do to catch up with Real Life, but it looks like I'll be going back to work on Friday. Yeah, Friday; and I'll probably be working all weekend, too, because my boss is a witch, man.

Tomorrow will be a Hide from the Heat day, because 90F/32C, and sunny. Friday will be a little cooler and cloudy, and then Saturday it will be SIGnificantly cooler, with rain. So, it's not like I'll be missing a Great Weekend on anything.

I have taken the Executive Decision to put twinkle lights up in the living room. Those should arrive tomorrow, and will be something to do In-Between.

Rookie very responsibly made his annual vet appointment for July. I'm so proud of him. Trooper is calling for Happy Hour, but he still has a little while to wait.
. . . and that's the evening report.

Everybody stay safe; I'll see you tomorrow.

Thursday. Sunny and already warm enough by my reckoning. The weatherbeans are calling for Warmer, and a thunderstorm or two.

I had hoped that the Corning trip would serve as a buffer against meltdowns, as I came home from a con without Steve, and, indeed, emotions have taken their time catching up. Unfortunately, this morning it all kind of hit like a dump truck. Firefly just brought me her orange chew-and-chase thing, which is of course a Great Comfort.

Today, I'll be doing normal quiet things -- hanging away the laundry, making a pot of rice, doing one's duty to the cats. I have two phone calls to make, and that will be my limit on Real World Business today.

There had been a call for me to post the text of my speech, so it can be compared to what I actually said. I'll try to get that done -- just a cut 'n paste.

The coon cats have put their plans for the day into motion. What're your plans?

Today's blog title brought to you by Billy Joel: "Allentown"

james_davis_nicoll

When a woman looked around her for her husband, who had been right behind her on the stairs but was now nowhere to be seen. I was very worried I was facing a repeat of the time not too long ago when I spent an hour looking for a missing patron.

The missing husband turned out not to have been behind his wife on the stairs after all, so mystery solved. The missing patron I spent that hour looking for was found once I thought about where she had to be to have not been found where we looked: row H or J, somewhere near seat 26.

james_davis_nicoll

An arduous journey in a prince's entourage offers a courier escape from immediate, judicial danger, at the cost of an entirely different assortment of dangers.

The Witch Roads (The Witch Roads, volume 1) by Kate Elliott

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kylinn deor

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kylinn deor

Reading

Rites of Spring

Let me pull out good old reliable "interesting if true"

OVFF hotel

It's morphogenesis

Finally, time to write the book on you

Help Cat Greenburg & Matthew Morrese

Pobre Diablo

If I could...

PSA

Numamushi by Mina Ikemoto Ghosh

On Fortuna's wheel, I'm running

weird power outage, and knee update

Off we go!

Cyberplane #1

Con-Fession of a Con-Addict

Cyberplane #2

Cyberplane #2

What has gone before

News of tomorrow, today

Text of Sharon Lee's Heinlein Acceptance Speech

Well, our fathers fought the Second World War

I had a tiny little tense moment last night

The Witch Roads (The Witch Roads, volume 1) by Kate Elliott

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April 2023

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