Some scattered musings from out here in The Land Of Weak Signals.
I.
There is a picture hanging on the wall in here which, for reasons I cannot fathom, has started a kind of resonant vibration with the air conditioner or the ceiling fan or something and is making an awful, high-pitched whine. This picture has been on the wall for at least twenty years - I have no idea why it is only now doing this.
Every couple of minutes, I have been getting up out of bed, walking over to the picture, and just giving it a tap on the frame, which stops the noise. Then, after about 90 seconds of peace, it starts to build up again. In a Lovecraft story, this is the sort of thing which will slowly drive the protagonist mad.
Instead, I am just going to take the darn thing off of the wall. Hold on for a second...
II.
Even just from reading the work which has gone up in the past two weeks, I have really been struck not just by the uniformly high quality of it all, but also by the distinctiveness of the different authorial voices. A Barinellos piece is very different from a Raven piece, which is very different from a Ruwin piece, which is very different from a Keeper piece, which is very different from a Tevish piece, and so on and so on. And this extends down to feedback and commentary as well. Luna's take on a story may be very different from Raven's or Keeper's or mine, and each perspective teaches me something new.
The diversity of talent and style and perspective is wonderful. Magical, even, if I may be excused the pun. This is a genuinely wonderful group we have here. It's a precious thing and ought to be treasured.
III.
One of the things I like most about life in The Land Of Weak Signals is that it includes quiet time which I can just use to read. One of the things I have read this trip is
Super Flat Times, a collection of short stories by a very talented co-worker of mine, Matthew Derby. Derby is a true gentleman and a wonderful guy, so I'm going to just plug his book for a moment, even though I'm about ten years behind the curve (I think it was released in 2003).
Now, I will be the first person to say that this is a strange book, and it is probably not for everyone. There are stories in it which, frankly, aren't really for me. It's a kind of absurdist sci-fi collection about a dystopian future which makes other dystopian futures look like Disneyland; a term which gets thrown around a lot on the back cover blurbs is "Orwellian," but I'd amend that to "Orwellian if Orwell had been about three times as cynical and had just taken a huge hit of acid."
But Derby has a way with concise, vivid language which I envy, and there are moments in this book which are just special. For example, I am deeply jealous of this beginning to one of the stories:
Quote:
My stepfather was among the first to go. Days after he disappeared, we found his wig on the front porch. Whoever had taken him away had brought the wig back. There were things about him which weren't even worth throwing away.
So, if that sounds like your jam, then I believe
Super Flat Times is available on various e-reading devices.
IV.
I found the binder full of my stories and poems from my college creative writing class. It is... interesting. To say the least.
Most of the stories are pretty awful, as are most of the poems. But there is one story and about 1.5 poems which still spoke to me when I re-read them today. The one thing they have in common: they're all about people who I really care about.
Turns out that, when you write about what you care about, it shows. (Hopefully.)
V.
Ceiling fans are wonderful. When they aren't causing the pictures on your wall to emit a high-pitched whining vibration, anyway.