RSS

Monthly Archives: July 2015

The Clarion Write-A-Thon, Week 3

Writing 150Two weeks of the Clarion Write-A-Thon are in the books — we’re one-third of the way there! So far, I’ve written 10,773 words (an average of 770 per day), raised $295 in donations and finished one short story! Feedback Loop has been completed, though I didn’t submit it in time for consideration in Defying Doomsday — the deadline was listed in Australian time, so I screwed up my calendar. I’m disappointed, of course, but it’s a valuable lesson to learn for future submissions. Check and double-check your deadline, and if at all possible, make sure you’re early.

There’s a good story lurking within the first draft of “Feedback Loop”; it’s an epistolary short story in the form of journal entries, chronicling an inner-city college student’s journey through depression, school, family issues and the end of the world. The writing could stand to be a bit more subtle and a bit more tight, and the chronology of events could use some reconfiguring, but this is the first short story in a long time that I’ve finished and been interested in editing. I’m excited to polish it off (after the Write-A-Thon, I think) and show it to my writing group!

I didn’t make my word count goal (14,000 by today), but I came fairly close. This week’s goal is a flat 1,500 words per day so by next Monday I’ll should have 21,500 total. It’s ambitious, sure, but I think I can make it! My fundraising goal for week 3 is to have $400 in pledges and donations. If you’re interested in helping me reach that, good news! You totally can, and I would be ever so grateful. Just go to my writer’s profile page at the Clarion Write-A-Thon website to make a donation. Just 1/10 of a cent per word (or $.001) from two people will get me there!

This week I’m working on my MegaMorphics story. Unfortunately that means I won’t be able to show it around until later this year, but I have to say I’m excited about this one too. It’s about a coyote who survives a bio-terror attack that leaves him completely unable to re-assert himself into normal society; most people exposed to the agent die immediately or slowly over a matter of weeks, but around 5% end up becoming something else. I’d like to say it’s a study on how tragedy shapes and isolates us from others, and there may be bits of that in there. But mostly it’s an excuse to introduce giants into a society that is in no way prepared to deal with them.

Once “Civil Engineering” is finished, I’ll move on to “A Stable Love” (another giant-oriented story) and start working on a few other projects that shall remain nameless and vague for now. Of course, this blog will be updated on Wednesday and Friday with personal observations and story snippets featuring whatever topic interests me.

My blog entry on “FurAffinity and the Realities of Capitalism” was edited and reposted over on [adjective][species], an incredible website that features personal and critical essays about the fandom. There’s a lively discussion going on there about the nature of advertising on community sites that’s intelligent, respectful and interesting. I highly recommend going there to check it out and reading a few other entries there as well!

One last plug: the Clarion Workshop has raised $4,275 of their $15,000 goal for the Write-A-Thon so far. Donating through my author’s page not only encourages me to push on to make my word count, but it also helps some truly great writers have unique instructions and form lasting connections with colleagues within the SF/F industry who have invested in helping to shape the next generation of greats coming up. If you have any coin to spare and you want to help guide the future of the genre, please donate!

OK, that’s all I’ve got. Thanks for your time, interest and donations so far all. You’re the best! What are YOU planning to work on this week?

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on July 6, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , , ,

Friday Fiction: The Exchange (Kraugh – Star Wars: Age of Rebellion)

Gaming 150This is a short short story featuring a character I’ll be playing for a friend’s Star Wars: Age of Rebellion game. He is a Togorian (a tall, feline-like alien species with a really interesting sexual dichotomy) who eschews the typical nomadic lifestyle of his species by choice — he views traveling throughout the galaxy as merely an extension of that lifestyle, where he gets to meet all manner of different sapient beings and find interesting technology for his wife. I like playing big guys who are more interested in the intellectual, spiritual or social, what can I say?

Kraugh slouched low in his chair, made sure his hands were under the table, kept his voice low and didn’t display his teeth. He knew that his size and teeth and claws had the potential to put his trading partner on alert, and he really didn’t want that. If he could manage to pull of this score, it’d be a huge boon for the crew.

His ears flicked around the bar as he scanned the riot of people stuffed into close quarters, shouting over each other to be heard. No sign of his partner, but it was early yet. He wouldn’t start to feel nervous about being stood up for another few minutes.

For now, he simply watched people. There were a pack of Bothans sitting in one corner booth, drinking something brightly colored out of a glass as long as their forearms. They were speaking quietly, their big ears turned towards each other, fur rippling in ways that meant something only to them. Kraugh briefly thought about heading over there, buying them a drink and striking up a conversation. He’d bet at least a thousand credits that they had something intensely interesting going down. Bothans tended not to gather in one place otherwise. He shifted in his seat and drained half of his drink in one long draught. The evening would pick up soon enough, he told himself. No need to go chasing excitement when it was coming to him.

A Wookiee and a Twilek sat at another table, speaking animatedly. He could pick up a few of the growls and muted roars of Shyriiwook, but couldn’t make much sense out of the conversation. They were worried about…either a person or a box that had gone missing either three days or three hundred years before. Either way, that sounded intriguing too. Maybe if he listened closer, he could find a way into–

A Rodian slipped up to the table, holding a satchel close against its chest. A shock of reddish-brown hair leapt between its antennae and presumably continued down the back of its skull. Kraugh would have guessed it to be female, but it was difficult to tell with reptilian races. He shifted his weight to stand, thought the better of it, and simply nodded to the empty chair across the table.

<<Thank you.>> It spoke in Rodese; thankfully it was one of the few phrases Kraugh knew.

“Basic, please,” he purred. “I’m sure you don’t want to hear me butchering your language any more than I’d want to mangle it.”

The Rodian sat down with a nod. “Fine. It’s enough of a surprise to see a Togorian away from his homeworld. I guess it’s too much to expect one to speak other languages.”

Kraugh flicked an ear, taking his partner’s measure. Clearly, she was nervous — the smart play here would be to put her at ease. “I’ve picked up a few here and there. You can’t be a Galactic citizen for very long without learning a few things.”

“True.” The Rodian clutched the satchel even now. “Like being brief when you’re making a deal.”

Kraugh smiled, remembered his fangs, and stopped. “I won’t keep you.” He nodded towards the bag. “Is that it?”

The Rodian nodded, shrugging the satchel’s strap from around her shoulder and pushing the package across the table. “Open the bag and inspect quickly. If you need a closer look, you can take it into the refresher.”

Kraugh perked a brow. “You’d trust me alone with the package?”
“You wouldn’t be. There’s a Gamorrean there who’ll be glad to escort you back to the table.”

This time Kraugh couldn’t suppress a grin. “Smart.”

“You have to be to do what I do for very long.”

“I’m glad you are.” He opened the satchel with the flick of a claw and lifted the flap to peek inside.

The gun looked like the standard issue SE-14r given to stormtroopers with a few modifications. The sight was missing, the barrel was slightly shorter and the overall form factor was a bit sleeker. The pack was notably smaller, presumably to make room for a slightly rounded bulge near the safety mechanism. That could mean only one thing.

“They did it.” Kraugh purred as he closed the satchel and shoved it back towards the Rodian. “They got the gyroscopic sight to work.”

The Rodian simply nodded. “You can fire as many shots with a smaller battery, too. Small, efficient, accurate. It’s a big improvement.”

“But this is only a prototype, right? So what’s the problem?”

“The laser battery is right up against the gyroscopic sight. So if you auto-fire or shoot off a few too many rounds in too short a time, you start to warp the scope.”

Kraugh blinked. “So the more you shoot, the less accurate you get.”

“That’s right. But you don’t want a functional weapon anyway, do you?” It was possible that the Rodian smiled. Kraugh would really have to become more familiar with the finer points of their physiology.

“No, I don’t. Let’s just say it’ll be neat to see how this thing works.”

The Rodian clicked once. “A Togorian interested in technology? Now I’ve seen everything.”

Kraugh shook his head. “Oh, it’s not for me. Give me a good sc’rath any day. This is a present for my wife.”

“A romantic Togorian is even more surprising. Who’s your wife? I might have had dealings with her.”

“Give me your name and I’ll see if she knows you. She doesn’t meet many off-worlders, but that could change once her position improves.” Kraugh grinned, showing teeth this time.

The Rodian waved off the comment good-naturedly. “Perhaps another time, then. Once we’ve learned to trust each other.”

“Once you’ve learned to trust me, you mean.” Kraugh dug into the pack at his hip and fished out a number of credit sticks. They were easily hidden in his hand, and he placed them under the satchel. “You’ll find it all there, plus a little extra for making this run so smoothly. Hopefully, that’ll help.”

He leaned back while the Rodian counted the credits and slipped them into her pocket. “It does, a little. It’s been a pleasure, Togorian, but I’m sure you have other places to be.”

Kraugh lifted a brow. “Other business here?” He drained his drink and stood, grabbing the satchel in one big hand. “If you have anything else for me, just pass a word along to Talik. He’ll make sure it gets to me.”

“I sure will,” the Rodian said. “Until then.”

Kraugh nodded and stalked towards the entrance of the bar. It only occurred to him when he ducked out into the heat of the day that this could be some sort of sting operation, but he quietly dismissed it. Just because they were engaged in a number of under-the-table activities doesn’t mean they couldn’t trust one another? There had to be such a thing as honor among thieves, after all.
The Rodian looked to make sure the Togorian was gone before speaking into her comm. “The mark has taken the bait. Repeat, the mark has taken the bait.”

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on July 3, 2015 in Furries, RPGs, Writing

 

Tags: , , , , , , ,

Notes From the Zendo: A Softening

Buddhism 150Last Wednesday I went to the Kannon Do Zen Centre up in Mountain View to hear Natalie Goldberg speak. A friend had invited me to see her, and when do you get a chance to actually meet the writer of Writing Down The Bones? Of course, I had to go.

It was a bit of a shock to see the Zen Centre right there in the middle of Mountain View, just a small way from downtown. The grounds were immaculate, the neighborhood was quiet, and everything there was geared towards one purpose — the practice of Zen and the encouragement of mindfulness. I was really impressed with it, and introduced to a community of practitioners who were all striving for the same thing.

We meditated first. My friend asked if I wanted to sit in a chair, and I told him I would probably be able to hang on a cushion. That turned out to be a big mistake. I meditate on a seiza bench at home; it’s basically a tiny little bench meant to hold your butt up off of your heels when you’re kneeling. I’m way too inflexible for half-lotus, and I’m pretty sure I’d break my legs if I tried full-lotus. (I’m still marvelling that anyone can manage that pose. It’s like they have cartoon noodle legs). Sitting seiza, though, is not the best without some sort of barrier between your rear and your heels. If you’re not tiny (and I am not), then it doesn’t take long for your lower legs to fall asleep. After that, any shift you make will send a horde of angry ants skittering from your ankle to your kneecap.

At first I could hang, but the second half of the meditation session was pure agony. I shifted out of seiza, awkwardly tried the half-lotus before I gave that up too, and just sort of ended up hugging my knees and resting my chin on my legs. It’s a horribly undignified way to meditate, but nothing brings you into the present moment quite like shame.

After meditation, there was a brief chant. I had never experienced anything like it before! We chanted the “Great Wisdom Beyond Wisdom Heart Sutra,” which is this:

Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva when deeply practicing prajna paramita clearly saw that all five aggregates are empty and thus relieved all suffering. Shariputra, form does not differ from emptiness, emptiness does not differ from form. Form itself is emptiness, emptiness itself form. Sensations, perceptions, formations, and consciousness are also like this. Shariputra, all dharmas are marked by emptiness; they neither arise nor cease, are neither defiled nor pure, neither increase nor decrease. Therefore, given emptiness, there is no form, no sensation, no perception, no formation, or consciousness; no eyes, no ears, no nose, no tongue, no body, no mind, no sight, no sound, no smell, no taste, no touch, no object of mind; no realm of sight…no realm of mind consciousness. There is neither ignorance nor extinction of ignorance…neither old age and death, nor extinction of old age and death; no suffering, no cause, no cessation, no path; no knowledge and no attainment. With nothing to attain a bodhisattva relies on prajna paramita and thus the mind is without hindrance. Without hindrance, there is no fear. Far beyond all inverted views, one realizes nirvana. All buddhas of past, present, and future rely on prajna paramita and thereby attain unsurpassed, complete, perfect enlightenment. Therefore, know the prajna paramita as the great miraculous mantra, the great bright mantra, the supreme mantra, the incomparable mantra, which removes all suffering and is true, not false. Therefore we proclaim the prajna paramita mantra, the mantra that says “Gate gate paragate parasamgate, Bodhi Svaha!”

Something came over me in the recitation of this sutra. It felt like something came unlocked, this idea that there is nothing to attain because whatever we could strive for is illusory; and once you realize that, the very idea of holding on to something — or scrambling to achieve it — just doesn’t hold any weight. When you realize that, fear simply leaves you.

Fear is something I struggle with all the time. The past couple of weeks have shown me that I’m a very tightly wound person. I’m terrified of making mistakes. It frightens me to talk about something that means a lot to me and have it dismissed or rejected. I hate the idea of stretching myself out, of being in a place where I’m not certain. But that’s where life is; and as much as you strive for the comfort of knowing exactly where you are and what you’re doing, you will actually spend very little time there. That comfort, that stability, is illusory and impermanent; attaching so much of my emotional energy to it is a thing that causes me suffering.

Natalie spoke, after chanting and a period of silent reflection while a few associates navigated through technical difficulties. She talked about living in (and hating) Palo Alto, and how it taught her to be careful what you hate because so much energy goes into that act. She talked about being diagnosed with cancer and how it stopped her writing cold but channeled her creative output into painting. Her work there was interesting; warm, vibrant yet serene, touched by her New Mexico lifestyle while still capturing pieces of the setting she was in. Her self-portraits were the most interesting, capturing the fear, worry and sadness she couldn’t express in words.

I was impressed mostly by the softness with which she lived her life. She was very gentle with her words and her tone, as if she knew that she didn’t need to use pressure to get at the truth she was trying to communicate. There was a deep and abiding acceptance in everything she did, even when she spoke about the cancer that had frightened her so. That discomfort was something she knew intimately and embraced just as much as everything else.

Silicon Valley is not a place that lends itself to that softness. It’s a fast-paced, high-powered world, and it’s not conducive to slow and ponderous attention to one thing. It’s difficult to know how to attain that soft and gentle attitude. The current teacher of Kannon Do, Les Kaye, wrote Zen At Work and actually worked at IBM for 30 years before becoming a Zen teacher. I think he understands the unique challenge of marrying Zen practice to the tech sector, which is pretty neat.

The intimacy and care with which the community of Kannon Do related to the space and with one another is something I’ll remember for a long time. There are a number of things within my calendar right now, so I’m not sure if it’ll be possible right now to attend services regularly. It’s definitely something I will make time for, however. Just being there for one warm summer evening gave me an awful lot to chew over, and for that I’m grateful.

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on July 1, 2015 in Buddhism, Self-Reflection

 

Tags: , , , , ,