Everyone’s going to Glasgow. Charles went last week, and so did Gary and Russell. Justine went a few days ago, and I think Gwenda’s off any day. The people I talk to on the weekend aren’t here, and the people who reliably blog away are gone too. I’m trying very hard not to be envious, but pretty much failing. I’m hoping everyone has the best con ever, but I can’t wait for it to be over so I can have just missed it, and can start looking forward to Madison.

Following on from last week’s post, I’m still suffering from the flu, though at least this feels like the aftermath rather than the main event. I’m hoping it’ll be completely gone by the weekend. In the meantime, I’m back at work, and making sure I get plenty of sleep. Hopefully that will see me through.

I didn’t do as much reading as I’d have liked, though I did do some. Finished Thud!, which was terrific. Neil linked to Terry’s Carnegie Medal speech which, I think, carries within it much of the explanation of why he’s so good. Yes, he writes fantasy. Yes, it’s funny. But the stuff he’s writing about is very real indeed. When you list the things he writes about they almost sound trite because they are big and obvious, but that misses the point. The observations he makes are fresh and real, and the subjects really are the kind of thing you can’t touch on too often. Someone somewhere will review the book and, no doubt, erroneously link it to the post 9-11 world and the situation in the Middle East. While the analogy is there to be drawn, I don’t believe it’s a reasonable connection. As Pratchett himself says in his speech (talking about The Amazing Maurice and his Educated Rodents):

“People have already asked me if I had the current international situation in mind when I wrote the book. The answer is no. I wouldn’t insult even rats by turning them into handy metaphors. It’s just unfortunate that the current international situation is pretty much the same old dull, stupid international situation, in a world obsessed by the monsters it has made up, dragons that are hard to kill. We look around and see foreign policies that are little more than the taking of revenge for the revenge that was taken in revenge for the revenge last time. It’s a path that leads only downwards, and still the world flocks along it. It makes you want to spit.”

Much the same could be said of Thud!. Er, not that it makes you want to spit, that is, but the other part about not referencing the current international situation.

Home sick, and killing time. I’m half way through reading Scott’s Blue Noon, and enjoying it immensely. Nothing, however, could prevent me setting it aside momentarily to jump into Terry Pratchett’s Thud!, which showed up mid-morning. Spent some time watching Clint Eastwood’s Million Dollar Baby, which was excellent, and discovered that ripping music from cd onto the computer is weirdly addictive. I’ve ripped about 5 gig today, and can’t seem to stop. I should be well and truly ready for the ipod when I actually get it. Back to work tomorrow, but don’t want to go. Maybe a half day. Cough, splutter!

If you have a spare $US225 sitting in your bank account and don’t have any particular use for it, you could write a check, pop it in an envelope and send it off to Centipede Press to get a copy of their latest title, Two-Handed Engine.

For those of you who haven’t stumbled across it, Two-Handed Engine is a 928-page collection of the short fiction of Henry Kuttner and C.L. Moore, in a deluxe hardcover limited edition (of either 200 or 300 copies, the website is unclear) with a stunning cover by the late Richard Powers. You can find more detailed information about here (http://www.centipedepress.com/kuttner.html).

I have to confess to being unsure what I think of this book. On one hand I rather hunger for it. It looks neat, and I’d love to have all of those stories in a single, wonderful volume, though it is very expensive. On the other, I’m a little disappointed by it. Why? Well, Kuttner and Moore are wonderful writers. Their work deserves not only to be preserved, but also to be given a wider audience; to make its way boldly into libraries and bookshops, so that it can achieve the only meaningful kind of preservation that a book can have, preservation in the minds of readers. A project like this one always seems to me to be very self-limiting. Only 200 (or 300) readers can ever have this book, and only if they’re very passionate about getting it (given the price). There is nothing wrong with that, I guess. But, it feels like a chance missed. I imagine the copies of Two-Handed Engine will sell quickly. I hope so. I also hope that someone out there considers buying the trade hardcover or trade paperback rights so that everyone else can have a chance to see these stories, and Kuttner and Moore get that chance of being read. Otherwise, it all seems rather pointless to me.

I have the flu. The big old ‘my head hurts, my feet stink, and I don’t love Jesus’ kinda flu. Stayed up late watching the cricket and Dr Who, reading Al Reynold’s neat story from Postscripts 4 (“Zima Blue”) and Scott’s Blue Noon, and keeping an ear out for the kids. Marianne was out for dinner, but apart from me sniffing and coughing, it was fairly quiet.

It’s early days yet to talk about Scott’s book, but I did think I’d talk a little about Postscripts. It’s a new magazine published out of the UK and edited by Pete Crowther with Nick Gevers. I’ve read the first three issues, and been impressed. The editors obviously have broad tastes, able to encompass within a single issue everything from space opera to slipstream; a flexibility that I really like. The production values are good, too. PS is produced much as their limited edition chapbooks are, as perfect bound A5 trade paperbacks. It’s a format that suits the chapbooks well, and the magazine better. So far each issue has had a handsome Edward Miller cover and the internal layout is simple and easy to read (a good thing).

And the fiction? The standard is generally very good. The highlights of PS3 were Joe Hill’s powerful ‘Best New Horror’ (a take on what happens to the editor of a year’s best horror anthology series when he meets one his contributors), Gene Wolfe’s fascinating ‘Comber’ (a wave catching city, literally), and Jack Dann’s ‘Dreaming with Angels’ (another James Dean-related story). It also featured a strong fantasy by Chaz Brenchley, ‘Dragon Kings Play Songs of Love’, and interesting stories by Rick Bowes and David Herter. I wouldn’t be at all surprised to see several of these in next year’s ‘year’s best’ annuals, or on awards ballots.

The latest issue, which I’ve just had a sneek peek at, includes: Alastair Reynolds “Zima Blue”, Eric Brown’s “Life Beyond”, Lawrence Person’s “Master Lao and the Flying Horror”, Barry Malzberg & Paul Di Filippo’s “Beyond Mao”, Adam Roberts’s “And Future King”, Jack Dann’s “Dharma Bums”, and Zoran Zivkovic’s “The Cell”. I’ve only had a chance to read the Reynold’s story so far, and I really liked it. It’s set against a space opera backdrop that recalls, as much as anything, the kind of post-scarcity universe Iain Banks’ employs so successfully in his ‘Culture’ novels. Here a near-immortal journalist has been pursuing an enigmatic cyborg artist for an interview. The artist, Zima, is famous for his enormous installations that involving coloring or wrapping things in a distinct shade of blue (very much like Christo and Jeanne-Claude). With a few unexpected turns, it leads into an interesting rumination on the nature of memory and of art. I’ve read a lot Reynolds’ short fiction, and enjoyed most of it. This is perhaps most reminiscent of a story like ‘Turquoise Days’, which avoids big space action in favor of story on a more intimate scale. I’m sure Reynolds must be building towards a collection, and I’m guessing it’ll be a particularly strong one when it does appear. In the meantime, PS4 is worth the price of admission for this story alone.

And on that, it’s around here that you would normally be exhorted to subscribe to this, and other, magazines. Most often, when I hear this exhortation, it seems to be pitched from the angle that short fiction is dying and magazines are a rare breed that you should, for some philanthropic reason or other, support. I’ve never been convinced by that argument: not when I was publishing a semiprozine myself, and not now. I think you should subscribe to Postscripts, but not for any philanthropic reason. Do it because the fiction is terrific and you like to read great stories. Do it because you want to see what two interesting editors can do with a quarterly magazine. I’m torn between Postscripts and Lady Churchill’s Rosebud Wristlet as to which is the best small press magazine around today. Happily, I don’t have to choose. I can have them both, and so can you. You can subscribe to Postscripts here. Oh, and to Lady Churchill’s here.

My earlier post on projects caused a little confusion, so I thought I’d try to clarify the situation. Apart from my ongoing work for Locus and reading for various year’s bests, my two biggest projects at the moment are Eidolon and The Starry Rift. Eidolon is due to be published in November, and The Starry Rift late next year, but both need to be completed and delivered to their respective publishers in early September. At the moment, I’m still receiving submissions and reading for both books, though only in a limited way.

For The Starry Rift, I’m waiting on three or four final submissions (from K, N, J, and G) and I’m done. Any remaining acceptances, and all of the story contracts, will go out for The Starry Rift shortly, and I have a rough working ms. on my desk at home. It’s not the final ms. of course, but it’s helping me with initial editing and story sequencing. I want to thank everyone working on the project for their extraordinary patience with me on this. This is the first original anthology I’ve done, and the first work on original fiction since I left Eidolon, and I’ve been striving to get it just right, reading and re-reading, and looking for balance etc. It’s made me slower than I’d like to be, but I think the final book will be better for it.

Eidolon is lagging behind a little, but when Jeremy gets back from Melbourne we should knock that on the head. It should be fairly straightforward. If, though, for some reason Eidolon should fall in a heap (and it won’t), we’ll probably reschedule it. Early days, though, to be considering that. Apologies to everyone waiting for us to get our administration in order and get responses out. It’s taken longer than we expected to read stories and so on, and to get the wrinkles of working together ironed out again.

Hope that clarifies any questions. If not, drop me an email and I’ll do what I can to clarify things.