A little whimsy of mine called And Just Like That... up at Antipodean SF this month. I like Anti-SF. They're worth supporting, 92 issues without any of the grandstanding so prevalent in the OzSF scene. So go, read, enjoy.
ALGONQUIN TWO: RETURN OF THE BRIDE OF THE SLIME WRITERS...
A thoroughly enjoyable interlude to a packing-heavy weekend on Saturday night, when we mosied over to Shane Jirayia Cummings' and Angela Challis' house for a barbecue with them, Martin Livings & Dr Izz. We gossiped, we fondued, we stood agog upon their balcony and stared with mounting envy at their view across the lake... By God they have a fabulous house. I've been wanting to find a writerly social circle that would enjoy getting together and talking biz on a semi-regular basis, and on the occasions we've been together, it's felt very much like friendship. We were also hoping to meet Stephanie Gunn in more extended circumstances than the last time we were introduced (yum cha at lunchtime on the first day of a Con is not the best circiumstances...) but illness intervened.
In future years, they'll be talking about us in the same breath as those other great literary gatherings: the Algonquin Circle, the Dick/Powers/Jeter evenings, the second series of The Book Club...
We'll be at it again in a fortnight, showing off the new Batthouse. We're looking forward to seeing a lot more of these fabulous people, although in typical fashion, Martin & Izz respond to our moving closer by running to England in a few weeks....
DON'T ASK ME, IT'S NOT MY MIND
So we're in a cafe the other day, and I go to the loo while the boys are up getting some food, and when they see I'm not at the table they ask where they are and Lyn tells them she killed me and turned me into their main meals (nachos) and it becomes a discussion of which bit of the meal is made from which bit of me, and so we arrive to:
BLAKE: So what's this corn?
LYN: His eyes.
BLAKE: How does that work?
AIDEN: His corneas.
Oh, I'm having fun. Thanks to Stephen Dedman, a writer who triggers both my admiration and aspiration, I'm currently engaged in a story for an anthology entitled Monster Noir, the central idea of which is that all the classic movie monsters upped sticks and settled in a nice Midwestern town, which then was bypassed and forgotten as the bypasses passed and the world moved on.
Thanks to a slow-work day the other day I managed 1800 words of the final act (working backwards. Oookkkaaayyy....), and thanks to another slow work day today managed to plot out the rest (as well as 3 other stories that should keep me busy for the next little while).
Dwight Frye in 3 incarnations; Dr Maurice Xavier (the inimitable Dr X, famous as one of Humphrey Bogart's he's in that? roles pre-big time); Vampira; Tor Johnson; Ed Wood; both Bela Lugosi and Christopher Lee's Draculas; a guest appearance from Dr Pretorius (the star of Stephen's own story); inter-species zombie sex; kitten eating; cross-dressing; and getting drunk on the blood of Mexicans, and I've only just started.
Oh boy I'm having fun...
Song of the moment: Eat The Rich Aerosmith