David D. LevineScience Fiction Author

Back from the Washington Coast where Jay Lake and I were “writer gurus” at the annual Writers’ Weekend. Jay and I each led two critique sessions for 3-5 stories each; I gave two lectures (on plot, and on using props and sets to define character and build emotion) and gave my Mars talk. Delicious meals were provided by our hosts. The rest of the time we walked on the beach, swam in the pool, relaxed in the hot tub, and talked.

The conversation ranged widely, from hardcore writing and publishing advice to extremely silly. One of my favorite moments was a series of Other Sith Lords, including Darth Congruous, Darth Corrigible, and the ultimate winner of them all Darth Sectivorous. At one point someone came up to a group and asked what we were laughing about, and we told her “Thundercat slash.” “It’s a gas, gas, gas?” she replied without missing a beat. I ’bout died laughing. And one of our host’s nieces introduced us to a Salish word pronounced, approximately, “lobstaboot,” which means “don’t do anything you’d regret” and which we used as a farewell for the rest of the weekend.

Sometimes I worried that Jay and I were dominating the conversation, but then I realized that the Jay and David Show was part of the point of the whole exercise. This made me feel weird, but over the weekend several people came up to me and told me that they found my critiques, lectures, advice, and blogs useful, so what the hell.

Good critique, good food, good chat, I made new friends and got to know old friends better. What’s not to love?

As you may know, I’ve never been an advocate of self-publishing. There’s a huge difference between printing a book, which is something that’s easy today with web-based print-on-demand services, and publishing a book, which involves selection, editing, promotion, and distribution. Self-publishing, in my view, is no road to riches.

However, there are some projects for which self-publishing is the way to go. That is, those cases where the physical artifact of a printed book is desired, and/or where there is a small but known audience. Personal memoirs, local histories, and charity cookbooks are excellent projects for self-publishing. You won’t make a lot of money at it, but you’ll get the satisfaction of sharing a printed book with your friends and relatives.

It is for this reason that I have created The Mars Diaries.

The Mars Diaries is nothing more nor less than a trade paperback collecting the blogs of the Mars Desert Research Station’s Crew 88. The content is the same as what you could find at Bianca’s, Laksen’s, Paul’s, Diego’s and my blogs, and the pictures are in black and white. All I’ve done is collect them in one place, put them in chronological order, and format them for print. Well, I also got Lynne Ann Morse and Kate Yule to translate Bianca’s and Diego’s blogs into English — that’s something you won’t find online.

The main purpose of this book is to have a physical souvenir for the crew, and their friends and families, of our adventure on “Mars.” But as long as I’ve gone to the trouble of putting this volume together, I saw no reason not to make it available for anyone who wants to buy a copy. You can order one yourself, if you like, from lulu.com:

http://www.lulu.com/product/paperback/the-mars-diaries/11784405

It’s only $20, and shipping is currently free. If you order a copy, please do let me know how you like it.

P.S. I did this project in Microsoft Word, for reasons that seemed valid when I started. I’m proud of the end result, but I have to say that the experience might just be the straw that makes this camel delete the last bits of Microsoft software from his Mac and use something else instead. Anything else. Maybe a sharp stick and a piece of leather.

Lately I have been feeling like a WINO — a Writer In Name Only. Since my trip to “Mars” in January I’ve been spending a lot more time being an Author (traveling, speaking, signing) than being a Writer (actually putting words on paper).

The Author thing is a lot of fun and very rewarding. I got a thank-you card from the Clarion West students for the talk I gave there, which was extremely touching, and the feedback I’ve gotten from my Mars talk at the Nebulas has been overwhelming. The Mars thing has been my entree to so many experiences I would not have had otherwise — the TV appearances, my turn on stage at Ignite Portland, the Shuttle launch, and many more. But it’s also quite tiring. It seems to take me a week or so to completely recover from a trip out of town, even longer if I gave a speech, and in the last few months I’ve found myself heading out again right after that. So I’ve only been writing once a week, at the Tuesday afternoon writers’ coffee shop get-together. If it weren’t for that goad I probably wouldn’t be writing at all.

I really feel like a wimp by comparison with Jay Lake, who seems to write every week more than I have in the last six months, despite the ravages of chemotherapy. His amazing persistence in the face of the many blows cancer has dealt him is awe-inspiring.

I did write an outline and the first ten thousand words of a YA SF novel and got them critiqued. Based on the feedback I received, it needs a lot of work, and I’ve been reluctant to tackle that. I just need to pull up my socks and do it.

I also wrote two short stories in that time. One of them, “Citizen-Astronaut,” won second prize in the Jim Baen Memorial Writing Contest (I just got the prize package of Baen books and schwag) and is currently seeking publication. The other one, “Floaters,” just today sold to the Drabblecast podcast. It should appear in August.

And I’ve kept the stories I wrote last year (and earlier) in circulation. “Finding Joan,” the story I read at Wiscon in 2009, sold to the new online market Daily Science Fiction, which hasn’t yet begun publication but pays eight cents a word. Another story was rejected with a note that described it as “powerful,” but too disturbing for the editor because it raised personal issues. I have high hopes for that one.

On reflection, I guess all in all I’ve been doing pretty well.

The Author thing continues. Tomorrow I head to the Washington coast to be “writer guru,” along with Jay Lake, at the annual Writers’ Weekend. Two weeks after that is the Mars Society convention, and three weeks after that we leave for Australia.

I hope to do some work on the YA SF novel while traveling. We’ll see.

Just back from a week in Chicago at the gay square dance convention. The convention, held in the luxurious and historic Chicago Hilton, was fantastic, well run, with plenty of great dancing (and, well, a few Squares From Hell, but into each life a little golfball-sized hail must fall, eh?). We also squeezed in a Frank Lloyd Wright bus tour and a downtown architecture river cruise, as well as a visit to the Art Institute.

The Art Institute visit was particularly interesting to me because my story “A Passion For Art,” which I wrote after visiting the Art Institute during the ChiCon 2000 worldcon, was just published in Interzone last month. It took ten years to be published because I waited a long while after getting it critiqued before editing and submitting it, and then it spent a few years kicking around various markets before being accepted. Touring the Art Institute I was surprised by a number of details that I had either mis-remembered or completely fabricated (and forgot I’d done so) in the story. For example, the statue of Pocohontas that plays a prominent role in the story, which I had remembered as being life-sized (and this is important to the plot), is actually only about four feet tall. Another piece that appears in the story, a pencil sketch of a ballerina by artist Edward Moy, is nowhere to be found at the museum or anywhere online; I guess I must have made that one (even the artist) up out of whole cloth. And Tuesdays are no longer free, though they were when I wrote the story.

When we returned I found a whole bunch of good stuff in the mail/email:

• My contributor’s copies of the September Analog, with my name not only on the cover, but listed first on the cover and spine! That’s a first for me.
• The June Locus, which not only included my photo (in the group shot from the Nebulas) and my name in the news section (for having won second prize in the Baen/NSS contest), but also three photos I took at Wiscon, along with a check for same! Another first!
• A note from Realms of Fantasy assistant editor Douglas Cohen that my RoF story “Joy is the Serious Business of Heaven” was selected as an Honorable Mention by Gardner Dozois in his Year’s Best SF.
• An invitation from the Mars Society to give my Mars talk at their annual convention (August 5-8 in Dayton, Ohio). I’ll be presenting to the whole convention right after Robert Zubrin opens the event!
• Page proofs for my story in Esther Friesner’s “werewolves in suburbia” anthology Fangs for the Mammaries (don’t blame me, or Esther, for the title; it was the winner of a contest).
• A short story rejection, just to keep me humble.

We’re only at home for two days. On Friday we head to Seattle for the Clarion West party and another session with the Washington Aerospace Scholars. Two weeks after that I’m off to the Washington Coast to be “writer guru,” along with Jay Lake, at the annual Writers’ Weekend. Two weeks after that is the Mars Society convention, and three weeks after that we leave for Australia! Whee!

Sometimes I blog a lot. This hasn’t been one of those times.

Not too long after returning from Wiscon I traveled back to Wisconsin for my mother’s funeral (technically a memorial service, I suppose, as there was no casket). It went very well — over 125 people attended, and there was more laughter than tears during the service. It’s clear she touched a lot of lives. I learned a few things about her that I’d never known, or had forgotten, including that she wrote a play about the last days of Spinoza that was given a reading by the Milwaukee Rep.

My aunt (Mom’s younger sister) told a story about visiting my mother when I was two years old. Apparently I was not being very cooperative in eating my dinner, and Mom gently upended the bowl of spaghetti on my head. As I sat stunned, Mom commented to her sister “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

After the funeral all of the relatives (me, Dad, my aunt and uncle, and great-aunt Millie), plus family friend and cookbook author Alamelu Vairavan, visited the spectacular Quadracci Pavilion of the Milwaukee Art Museum, which I’d not visited before. While we were there we saw the Blue Angels practicing for the following weekend’s air show, which utterly delighted tiny Aunt Millie.

Since the funeral I’ve been dealing with occasional bouts of free-floating grief, especially during the scene in Toy Story 3 where Andy’s mother says she wishes she could be his mom forever. (Excellent movie, though.) I’ve been generally low in energy and unfocused, but part of this could be the amount of travel we’ve been doing and the gray and chilly weather we’ve been having. But today’s weather has been gorgeous and I’m working to improve my mood by tackling my daunting to-do list. For example, this blog post.

Last weekend we took the train to Seattle. The excuse for the trip was that I was presenting my Mars talk to the Washington Aerospace Scholars (high school juniors interested in science, technology, engineering and math), but we took the opportunity to stay at a hotel in Pioneer Square and play Seattle tourist. In addition to visiting the Concorde, Air Force One, and the Curiosity mars rover at the Museum of Flight, we took a ghost walk of Pike Place Market and a “coffee crawl;” it was cool to see the back sides of some things and get a little bit of education about Seattle history and coffee. We also had a delightful dinner and excellent dim sum with fan friends. I also finished writing a creepy story on the train. It was over too quickly, but we’ll be back in a couple of weeks (July 9-11) for a Clarion West party and another Mars talk to a different group of Washington Aerospace Scholars.

Next week we’re heading to Chicago for the annual gay square dance convention. Whee!

I’m at the airport again (it seems that’s the only time I have for sitting and blogging these days), heading back to Milwaukee for my mother’s funeral. I’m still pretty much okay. I didn’t really cry hard until I heard the opening of “What a Good Boy” by Barenaked Ladies.

Grief is a funny thing. It sneaks up on you sometimes.

Apart from the whole business with my mother, I had a great trip. Three weeks and five cities, or 13 cities if you count every one we stopped at on our various airplanes. I’ve spent much of the intervening week digging out from under the stuff that wasn’t done during that time, including resubmitting a bunch of stories that were rejected. I also logged in some publications: the audio version of of “The Last McDougal’s” appeared in podcast Escape Pod 240, “A Passion for Art” appeared in magazine Interzone 228, and “Second Chance” appeared in anthology Alembical 2. Photos and videos of the Nebula Awards Weekend have also been posted, including a video of my keynote address.

Wiscon continues to be one of my favorite conventions, with some of my favorite people. I participated in the Writers’ Workshop, I was on two hilarious panels: “Let’s Build a World,” in which we wound up with a Klein-bottle world inhabited by solipsistic LoLcats who reproduce through music and fetishize prime numbers, and then sketched out the plot of “I Can Haz Musical! The Musical” set on that world (see LJ user “coraa”‘s panel notes for more details); and “Pshaw! Psst! Argh!,” in which we discussed sound effects in writing and I managed to make one of the audience members literally fall over laughing by positing the torturer Severian in Book of the New Sun grimly lopping off someone’s head, which then bounces down the steps with a “doink, doink, doink.” Amy Thomson’s proposal of a fantasy language consisting of nothing but apostrophes was also memorable.

I also gave my Mars talk to a small but packed room. Later in the convention I overheard someone praising it to someone else in the elevator. People really seem to like it, and at the Mid-Career Writers’ Gathering I got some great advice about how to parlay this brush with near-fame into writing success. It will mean selling myself much harder than I’m usually comfortable with, but you know what they say about the turtle, which makes progress only when it sticks its neck out.

Apart from that I spent most of the time hanging out with friends old and new, starting with the guests-of-honor reading at A Room Of One’s Own bookstore (“AROOO!”) and ending with shooting pool at the Great Dane. In between there were show tunes, readings, many fine dinners, and hallway conversations galore. I didn’t spend any money on books but I still came home with three more than I’d started with. I also received a couple of cool invitations which I will discuss more in due course.

Wiscon is too short. That’s all there is to it.

My mother passed away at about 3:00 this afternoon.

She was diagnosed with bladder cancer at about this time last year, and decided that she did not want any kind of treatment for it. Although this is not the course of action either my father or I would have wished, Mom was never the type to let anyone else tell her what to do. She died as she lived, on her own terms.

When we visited Milwaukee before Wiscon, Mom was suffering from an extended bout of stomach flu. During the time I was there she mostly sat and watched TV, while Dad and I talked about quantum physics or what have you. Then, while I was at the convention, she finally went to the doctor and it was determined that the “flu” was actually kidney failure caused by the cancer. She went into hospice at that time, though due to an email snafu I didn’t find out about it until Tuesday morning when we were about to come home from the convention.

We took one extra day in Milwaukee before heading home. Kidney failure isn’t a bad way to die; you just spend more and more time asleep until you simply don’t wake up. Talking with Mom in the hospice was like talking to a toddler who’s up way past her bedtime; she’d exchange a few words and then drift off. She received excellent care and obviously wasn’t feeling anything worse than mild discomfort.

The hospice was a lot more pleasant than visiting Jay or Mark in the hospital, because there was no tension, no worry, no fear that something worse might happen. The worst had already happened and now it was just a matter of managing the end game.

Dad is doing okay. He’s sad, of course, but also relieved. We’ve known for almost a year that this was coming and pretty much how it would go, and we all got to say goodbye. There wasn’t any deathbed drama with relatives or unfinished business. Even the medical bills are all taken care of. He said to me several times “she won,” which at first I thought meant she’d finally won the argument about whether or not to treat the cancer, but after a while I realized that he meant she’d gotten the quiet, pain-free death she’d wanted instead of a long drawn-out agonizing medical battle.

Here’s the obituary he wrote for her:

Marilyn Malka Levine was born on April 11, 1933 to Maurice and Frieda Gordon in Brooklyn New York. She attended public schools in Queens and met the man who was to become her husband in the spring of 1953 in a required dance class at Queens College of the City University of New York. At the end of the semester, at their first date, they decided that their union could be a solid one. One year later, after being graduated on June 9th they married on June 13, 1954 and moved to Syracuse. Marilyn was awarded an informal degree of P. H. T. (Putting Hubby Through) in 1959 and the adventure continued.

She began her first company “The Look-it-up Lady” in 1963 when it was clear that her son David D. was safe to go without diapers. She did manual data searches for clients in these pre-computer days. Her company name changed to “Doctor Levine’s Information Machine” with the award of her Doctorate from UWM’s School of Education. By this time it was becoming clear that Boolean Searches were possible in publicly accessible databases using terminals and the early dial-up data networks. Her company name changed to “Information Express” and remained that for about a decade.

She was convinced that Librarians could be innovators in data searching and offered courses to librarians using the good offices of UWM’s school of Engineering Extension. For several years it was clear that, if a librarian in southeast Wisconsin could generate a Boolean Search, she had learned how to do it by attending one of Marilyn’s classes. With the advent of services like Google, of course, much of that changed.

A strong advocate of free enterprise, Marilyn brought together, in June of 1987, 26 members to a meeting in Milwaukee to form the AIIP (the Association of Independent Information Professionals). She was the group’s first president. The organization has since grown to more than 500 members and is now worldwide.

In 1993 Marilyn sold the rights to the Information Express title to a California company and turned her attention to the field of Art. She opened the Bay View Gallery and ran it for about seven years until her retirement in 2000.

Marilyn holds a patent on a Phonic Keyboard. Intellectual discourse in the family continues. Small talk at home involves questions about the nature of a deity, whether or not there is a difference between god and nature, how much energy is required to actually store a singe “bit” of information and what, if anything, occurs in the universe when a new idea is created or the last copy of an old idea is destroyed.

Marilyn will be missed. She is survived by her husband Leonard just a few days short of 56 years of marriage and her son David.

I know that she was very proud of me.

I’m now at the Albuquerque airport, on the way from Taos NM to Milwaukee WI for the third leg of this three-week five-city tour. Kate’s in New York for another couple of days, then will meet up with me in Milwaukee, after which we will proceed to Wiscon by car.

This is the second time this year I’ve flown to a desert state, driven to an isolated location three hours from the nearest airport, and spent an extended period confined with a small group of smart people of debatable sanity. The first time was my trip to “Mars” (six people, two weeks); this time was the Rio Hondo writers’ workshop (twelve people, one week).

The food at Rio Hondo was much better.

The writers invited to Rio Hondo included Karen Joy Fowler, Daniel Abraham, Alex Jablakow, James Patrick Kelly, Diana Rowland, and our hosts Maureen McHugh and Walter Jon Williams. The primary purpose of the workshop is critique, but the week also included lots of schmoozing, talking about writing, hiking and touristing, and eating. Oh, how we ate. Walter and Maureen did most of the cooking, but Kristin Livdahl and I took the lead on a dinner each, and the food was both ambitious and fabulous. I was actually more intimidated by the prospect of cooking for this group than by the prospect of critiquing or being critiqued by them, but my main dish of Broccoli and Tofu in Spicy Peanut Sauce was well-received. Karen even asked for the recipe.

The workshop was held in the Snow Bear Condominiums, which boasted comfortable beds, plenty of hot water, well-equipped kitchens, and breathtaking views both down the mountain (trees, rock formations, pristine streams, deer, and marmots) and up the mountain (looming cliff down which pebbles continually rattled). On the last night a small tree fell down the cliff, coming to rest against the battered fence just above my room. With luck the Snow Bear will still be there next year.

A typical day at Rio Hondo went as follows. Morning: group critique of two stories. Afternoon: reading stories, hiking in the mountains, touristing around the area, cooking, and napping. Evening: chatting, watching episodes of Middleman, or playing Thing, all lubricated with appropriate amounts of alcohol. Kind of like Clarion but without the lecture or the pressure to produce a story a week (though many of us did spend a lot of time putting down new words, especially those facing deadlines). I didn’t do very much new writing but I did some research and a lot of thinking about my current project.

It was an honor, a privilege, and a great learning experience to have the opportunity to read these writers’ drafts with a critical eye. In many cases I got more out of the reading than I was able to give in critique, but I hope I was able to provide some useful feedback. I also learned that there’s no story that’s so good that eleven insightful writers can’t talk for an hour about how it can be improved. All of these pieces were, I think, publishable as they are, but just about all of them received at least one of those “ding!” comments that points the author in a direction that can make the story truly outstanding.

I got some excellent feedback on my own current project, which I am currently trying to assimilate. I need to keep in mind that all of the other stories, some of which were superb, got just as many comments as mine did, and I need to find a way to incorporate all of this feedback in a way that moves the story in the direction I want it to go. Once I decide what that is.

I also got some very good advice about my career, and I intend to get a lot more serious about writing and marketing my work once I get home, possibly including some difficult decisions. Though there’s lots of travel to come in June and July, and in August we head to Australia for a month. The days truly are just packed.