September 1st, 2011


[links] Link salad doesn’t sleep so hot

A Quick SFWA-Related Thing of Some Importance (to SFWA and SFWAns) — If you’re a SFWA member, please go read this post from Subcommander Scalzi. It’s important. Really. I swear.

At Cartlandia, food carts rush in where used car salesmen once reigned — Mmm, Portland’s food scene.

Ugly? You May Have a Case — Umm…

Clouds Photographed Through an Open Plane Door 4 Miles Up — Wow. (Thanks to [info]scarlettina.)

Outbound space probe looks back at tiny Earth and Moon

If You Believe That Blankets Keep You Warm… — The science of global warming, for those open to actual, you know, facts. (Snurched from Slacktivist.)

Scientists Sequence Lizard Genes for First Time Unveiling Evolution Secrets

Poland computer ‘game’ helps North Africa transition

Back when Rick Perry was against destroying public documents… — Mmm, open records and good government, those Republican standards. Anybody remember Governor Mike Huckabee’s hard drives? As law and order conservatives are so fond of reminding us, the innocent have nothing to fear.

U.S. newborn death rate tied with QatarSouth Korea, Cuba, Malaysia, Lithuania, Poland and Israel all outrank the U.S. Yep, best healthcare system in the world here. Any attempt at reform is socialism. Ask any Republican!

Pastor Wants Atheist Registry to Track Atheists like Sex Offenders — Mmm, family values. Because people who believe individual liberty and free thought are so dangerous to the close-minded, I guess. (Via @twilight2000.)

?otD: Can you try to remember the time of September?

Writing time yesterday: 1.75 hours (2,700 words on Sunspin plus some editorial effort)
Body movement: 30 minute stationary bike ride
Hours slept: 6.0 hours (fitful)
Weight: 223.6
Currently reading: The Iron Duke by Meljean Brook

Originally published at You can comment here or there.


[writing] Closing in on Sunspin volume one

I’m in the downhill slide now. I figure another 12-16,000 words from here and I’ll have a wrap on the first draft of Calamity of So Long A Life.

Yesterday was the first day since last Thursday I could write, thanks to the marvels of chemotherapy. It was nice to slip back into the characters and watch them move through the page. I’m of course riddled with self doubt right now … “More characterization” … “Not enough description” … “This sucks” … but that’s all part of the drafting process. And this is definitely a draft. I like it a lot, but I do think it will need more clanky bits later.

Mmm. Clanky bits.

Did you write yesterday? Post a snippet in comments if you’d like. It’ll be like a really odd version of exquisite corpse.

Originally published at You can comment here or there.


[cancer] It is to update, also, mortality

Slept poorly last night, but in a normal way. Also, I’ve failed to post this week’s ritual burning of the chemo sign, but at the moment cannot find the %@*& SDHD card with the images on it. For those following along at home, the usual lower GI follies have been in force the past twenty four hours or so, albeit more mildly than normal. Likewise loss of appetite and the leading edge of the return of food aversions. On the plus side, I’ve grown a bit of hair back, just in time to lose it again.

I find myself coming back periodically to the idea of stopping the chemo. This is by way of a thought experiment or a visualization, not by way of an actual intention. I think it’s me self-checking the process, my quality of life, and so forth. That necessarily involves a lot of visualization of mortality, which is something I spent time discussing with my therapist yesterday.

In that conversation, I articulated that I’m no longer afraid of being dead. The human mind can normalize just about anything over time, apparently, and I’ve managed to normalize my mortality. In a nutshell, when I’m dead I won’t know the difference, so what is to fear? I’m only minimally afraid of dying at this point, though when the time comes, whether it’s next year or forty years from now, I suspect that will resurge. What I am afraid of is being sick, sick, sick. Months and years of this crap. And everything I lose to being ill — time, energy, damage to my daughter’s life and the rest of my family, social connectedness, writing, everything.

Hence the continued low-grade thought experiments regarding chemo. I want to live. I will live, so long as the disease, medical science and luck allow. This isn’t suicidal ideation, it’s further explorations of the mental and emotional space of cancer.

Originally published at You can comment here or there.