August 24th, 2010

a-links

[links] Link salad eyes the fall publishing schedule

A rather nice review of Pinion in Analog

io9.com includes my forthcoming collection The Sky That Wraps in their list of "All the books you'll be lusting for this fall season"

Never Wake Up: The Meaning and Secret of Inception — Some interesting analysis here. Partially dovetails with the take that calendula_witch and I are developing. (Thanks to goulo.)

Pulsar Timing: An Outer System Tool — This is some seriously weird science. And cool as all get-out.

The End of ManagementCorporate bureaucracy is becoming obsolete. Why managers should act like venture capitalists.

Why do pundits think Bush regularly attended church? — He didn't. Neither did that conservative saint, Ronald Reagan. Obviously Reagan was a secret Muslim!

Stewart: Fox Smears Owner Alwaleed bin Talal! — Hah!

Covert OperationsThe billionaire brothers who are waging a war against Obama. And the Right gets its panties in a wad over George Soros... (Via danjite.)

What are the Republicans trying to hide behind the Ground Zero Mosque? — Not sure I buy this, but it's an interesting argument, and not the least bit out of character for the party of Atwater, Ailes and Rove.

The GOP and the “Ground Zero” Mosque — The Cato Institute weighs on rank political opportunism by Republicans. See Competing Perspectives on the Mosque Controversy for more.

The GOP's Long, Hot, Racist Summer — Ah yes, nothing like standing on your principles to make your point.

?otD: What forthcoming books are you lusting for?




8/24/2010
Writing time yesterday: 0.75 hours (WRPA, Kalimpura outline)
Body movement: 30 minute stationary bike ride
Hours slept: 7.25 (interrupted)
This morning's weigh-in: 244.2
Yesterday's chemo stress index: 4/10 (fatigue, peripheral neuropathy)
Currently (re)reading: Destroyer by C.J. Cherryh

child-on_plane_in_China

[personal] Fatherhood in the time of cancer

Driving home last night from dinner, I was listening to NPR. Terri Gross was interviewing Scott Simon about his book on adoption, Baby We Were Meant For Each Other. Simon was talking about the mechanics of the adoption process in China, which are very familiar to me as that is how the_child joined our family. Then he started talking about child abandonment and orphanage life in China, which saddened me. Those are realities with which I am reasonably conversant, in the context of being a complete outsider, and they are certainly the realities of my daughter's early life.

What really broke me was when he then started talking about being an older parent (Simon was 50 when he and his wife adopted their first daughter), and what it would mean when he passed away and left his children behind.

When you peel back all the prognoses and tests and procedures and psychotherapy and family support and love, underneath it all, I truly no longer expect to live to be old. This conviction didn't emerge until the first metastasis in my lung. The second metastasis which I'm currently dealing with in my liver has only deepened my sense of fatalism. These days, I define a successful life as one in which I survive in reasonable health long enough to see the_child graduate from high school. She's about to start seventh grade, which means I need to hang in for six more years. Or, given the current metrics, through six more recurrences of my cancer.

None of this is logical. It's probably not even all that mentally healthy. On a day to day basis, I work at being positive, and I believe I largely succeed at it. (Though calendula_witch might beg to disagree.) But when I'm being honest down to the bone, I don't see a long future for myself.

That just is. And in some ways, I think I've accepted my sense of mortality. I will fight for every inch, all the way to full cure or to the end, whichever comes first. If it does come as I fear, I will have many regrets — books unwritten, places unvisited, people not yet loved, the grief and loss of my parents. But what I want the most is to see the_child into adulthood in good order. What I fear the most is never being able to do that.

Sometimes love is a bitter cup.