Inspired by an online meeting with old friends, by the fact that I am energized by a new house search and also by the fact that someone stole my licence plates on Wednesday, I wrote 700 words yesterday on a shared-world SF tale.  Or it may be that there is now a deadline set for that story.

Either way, a good count.

So, I keep collecting Writers of the Future Honorable Mentions - in the first quarter, I got one for "Ghetto Galileo".

I will win this one someday!

Anyone who has been to Disney's flagship store in Times Square will have a hard time believing that Disney was once truly on the rocks financially, and that desperate risks - well rewarded, in hindsight - were the hallmark of the company's early years.  When Snow White was released, it was a huge gamble, and Fantasía (1940) was equally so.  In fact, despite currently ranking 22nd on the all time list of highest grossing films (inflation adjusted), it took the movie quite a while to make a profit.

The viewing experience is still pleasant, although I imagine it would have surprised audiences a lot more upon initial release.  I also suppose that you have to be a lot more savvy regarding classical music than I am to really appreciate the depths of the production.  Other than that, it holds up remarkably well, and the narrative is easy to follow through the music.  The parts with the devil in them would likely still scare small children today.

I enjoyed it - but wouldn't necessarily recommend for kids.  They will find it boring (except the ones that get scared by the devil, of course).

When I read about Robert Jordan's death, I was even more distressed than I usually am to learn of the death of an author, mainly due to the fact that I was eleven (very long) books into the Wheel of Time series, and I was enjoying it quite a bit.  A lot of people tired quickly of the intricate and overly descriptive nature of Jordan's series after the first few books, but I found the overall effect very enjoyable - it is a series that you can truly get into.

My concern was somewhat alleviated but also deepened a bit when I read that a successor had been chosen; alleviated because I would finally find out how things end, deepened because... well, because who the hell is Brandon Sanderson?

As it happens, there was no need to worry.  The fist Sanderson WoT book, The Gathering Storm, was not just good, but good enough to be included in this series without breaking stride.  And yes, I know it came out ages ago, but my TBR pile is so long that it just cycled in.  So for anyone who is still on the fence, jump in - you won't regret it.

Has anyone else made it this far in WoT, and would like to chime in with an opinion?

I watched Alfred Hitchcock's 1940 production of Rebecca recently, and was impressed with just how closely the film matched the image of the book I'd formed in my mind's eye, as well as how perfectly the movie follows the plot (other than one tiny adaptation due to Hays Code interference).

Having recently reviewed the book, there really isn't much more to say about the film, but I do think that this one was a near-perfect choice for a Hitchcock adaptation (and did you know that Du Maurier was also the writer of "the Birds" - the story, not the screenplay).  Seems Hitchcock knew exactly where to go for good material.

So...  have you guys seen this one?  Do you know of a better novel-to-film adaptation (I currently have Rebecca as #1 on that particular list).

Good news...  Sold my erotic fantasy story, "Strange Bedfellows" to Insatiable Magazine, a new press just putting together their first issue.  As you can probably imagine, this makes me very happy!

Every once in a while, I go beyond the comfortable confines of modern and/or 19th century fiction and part the mists of time to read something a little more ancient. Beowulf and Gilgamesh stand out, but there is also middle age literature from Italy to consider.  The problem with most of that is that it is written in verse...  and I have a problem with verse: the rhythm of the words throws me out of the content.  Still, in cases where the content is interesting enough, the problem isn't so bad.

Interesting is definitely a good word to describe the content of Dante's Inferno.  The punishments and geography of Hell are incredibly entertaining.  The politics and (let's admit it) petty revenges that Dante also indulges in are completely boring - although they were probably aimed at the medieval version of a National Enquirer audience.  Knowing why someone was put in hell is only interesting if it's a Universal human truth, not something having to do with personal preferences in ancient Italy.

Of course, this is exacerbated in Purgatorio.  If going to hell had moments of boredom, imagine how hard it could get to read about people who were almost nice.  This is the densest part of the book.

Paradiso, while nowhere near as fun as Inferno, at least had the redeeming quality of describing the beauty of the celestial spheres, and a sort of Angelic aerial version of synchronized swimming.

So, it seems popular "wisdom" is actually correct for once - read Inferno and forget the rest unless you are a scholar or someone like me...

A quick word for the edition I read.  This particular B&N edition isn't externally all that nice, but the Doré illustrations make it worth the (extremely reasonable) price.

Any other takes on this one?  I know Borges, to take a random example, disagrees with my take violently...  Fortunately, he isn't alive to berate me for this.


Writing: 200 words on a shared-world SF tale.  Also sold a story, but I'll discuss that tomorrow.

His Girl Friday is another screwball comedy from Hollywood's golden age starring Cary Grant (I am pretty sure he was in every movie filmed in this era) from the 1001 movies list. This is another one that I can recommend with no hesitation, as the pace is simply breathtaking, and the gags are continuous.  Want serious, introspective movies that would have put Tolstoy to sleep?  Look elsewhere.

Perhaps the most interesting aspect of this one is the title.  I had no clue that a "girl Friday" referred to a female office gofer, or that the term originated with Robinson Crusoe's manservant.  Live and learn.

Anyhow, I wonder...  has comedy ever had an era like the late 30s and early 40s?

I've been worried for a lon, long time that SFF is getting overly whiny.  It used to be that the genre was an exploration of ordinary (and occasionally extraordinary) people doing extraordinary things with strong convictions and firm values (loose morals and dash worked, too).  This went down really well and got lots of people interested.

Over the last 40 years or so, the trend has been towards guilt, self-questioning and - especially - use of the genre for political expression.  Of course, any form of literature is necessarily an expression of the author's views, but back in the day, the plot and the ideas were more important than the agenda.  And now that we live in a world that is more sensitive to certain issues, it seems that writers are using it as an excuse to really start preaching at us.  This is especially obvious in short fiction...

Readers, of course, went elsewhere.  In large droves.  They moved to doorstop fantasy novels (does anyone really care whether orcs and their ilk are discriminated against?  Trollocs, likewise, are just generic enemies), to other genres, and to other media.

As the flag-bearer of "soft" SF, Asimov's has long been one of the guiltiest parties here.  In fact, I once read an issue of Asimov's which was so bad that I vowed to avoid it forevermore.  It had a buch of turkeys and a story about cancer and hummingbirds which was so marginally genre that the only possible criteria for inclusion is that no other literary form is quite as whiny as SFF, and therefore it must be SFF.

I didn't avoid Asimov's forevermore, of course.  I bought the August 2012 issue, and actually read the thing.  It started off OK, with a Silverberg Majipoor story - perhaps a predictable way to open an issue.  The next story, though was a 100% dyed-in-the-wool whine and sob called "Corn Teeth", and my heart sank.  Was I in for another disaster?

It turns out I wasn't.  A little post-apocalypse, some alternate history and a bit about the Irish had me humming along and feeling hope for the genre for the first time in a while (this, combined with the rumors of a new, non-ploticized alternative to the SFWA coming along seem to point to a brighter future).  Favorite tale has to be “For I Have Lain Me Down on the Stone of Loneliness and I’ll Not Be Back Again” by Michael Swanwick.

Anyway, I will be less reticent to pick up this mag in the future.

So, after a week split between Miami and Key West - nice place to get married, Key West - I'm back in Buenos Aires.  I have plenty to blog about, including books and movies, but I'm going to need a couple of days to get myself reorganized.

Went to the Hemingway house, of course...  Played with one of the cats.

So tell me what you've all been up to!