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I'll be attending my first in-person Nebula Conference later this week. It's in Pasadena, and I'd planned to drive, but it looks like taking Lyft will be cheaper than parking my car at the hotel. (There's a fair bit of stuff that's walking distance from the hotel.) I'll be on two panels, both of them in the mask-required room.

Thursday 4:30-5:30pm
Cody Sisco, Rebecca Hardy (moderator), Gwynne Garfinkle and James Sturz
Celebrating and discussing how to write stories that focus on friends, siblings, families, found families, communities, and other relationships that also deserve a happily every after!

Friday 4:30-5:30pm
Gwynne Garfinkle, David D. Levine, Dean Wells, Amber Morrell, Naomi Kritzer
Endings leave the reader with something — a feeling, a question, or an idea. How do you close your story so that you leave the lasting impact of your words on the reader? How much resolution is necessary? How much space past the climax is a good barometer for a proper cool-down?

Listening to the music of Scott Miller on the eleventh anniversary of his death. (I still listen to his music often and with great pleasure.)

My poem "portrait of the artist as a young gorgon" will appear in an upcoming issue of Penumbric! The poem began life as a half-written short story, inspired by the Hammer film The Gorgon. (I couldn't figure out how to make the story work, but maybe someday I will.) It's not the first time I've turned a failed short story into a poem.

Meanwhile, I'm nearly done polishing my novel Thank You for Sending Me an Angel. With any luck, I will be able to start querying agents in the next few weeks.

March is my birthday month, and for the first time in years, I celebrated my birthday in-person with friends! It was really nice.

I just finished revising the last chapter of Thank You for Sending Me an Angel. I'll still be tinkering with the novel, but WHEW. It's a good feeling.

Now (among other things) I need to write the world's best query letter.

I spent the bulk of 2023 revising my novel Thank You For Sending Me an Angel (only two chapters to go!), but all my publications this year were poetry.


"when Ruth invented the Empathy Pill" in Kaleidotrope (Spring 2023)

"ode to The Swarm" in Penumbric (April 2023, Vol. 6, Issue 6)

"dear Tom Cassidy's daughter" in Strange Horizons (10 April 2023)

"dear Aunt Clara" in Not One of Us #75

"the jacarandas consider blooming" in Worlds of Possibility Anthology, ed. Julia Rios

"the ending" (reprint) in The Deadlands: Year One

At Aqueduct Press's blog, I talk about some of my favorite reads of the year.

One book that didn't make it onto my list is Robert Nathan's novel The Bishop's Wife (1928), which I finished reading (well, listening to on audiobook) this morning. The 1947 film is a favorite of mine, and it was one of the inspirations for my novel Thank You for Sending Me an Angel (which I'm nearly done revising!), but I had never read the novel before. In many ways it is a more sophisticated and philosophical story than the film, though neither version has what I would call a satisfying ending.

The novel makes it clear that the bishop is sexually repressed and that his wife Julia has been disappointed about this since their wedding night, though she enjoys being a mother to their daughter. The marriage between the bishop and Julia is one of mutual respect but, unlike in the movie, there doesn't seem to be much love there. The angel (Michael in the novel) is more earnest and less suave than Cary Grant's Dudley. (He's also fair-haired, and I understood for the first time why they originally thought to cast David Niven as the angel instead of the bishop.) Unlike Dudley, Michael actually kisses and embraces Julia and declares himself to be in love with her. For awhile, I was starting to wonder if Michael and Julia might actually hit the sheets. (Alas, they don't. Julia won't commit adultery, and apparently angels can't actually get carnal, even though Michael is clearly a great kisser.)

The novel is much more explicitly critical of organized religion than the film, and it also brings up antisemitism and racism. I got a little uneasy when the book introduced the wealthy Mr. Cohen, until Cohen told Michael about his grandparents who were killed in a Ukraine pogrom. Wait, I thought, was Robert Nathan Jewish? Sure enough, he was Sephardic. (Side note: he was also the husband of Anna Lee, of Val Lewton and General Hospital fame!)

As much as I like the movie, I can't help but wonder what a Pre-Code adaptation would have done with the book. The novel ends with Julia resigning herself to her unsatisfying marriage, though she has chosen to get pregnant again by the bishop. (At least in the novel, no one gets their memories angelically erased at the end.)

I just saw the awful news that Lara Parker has died. We became friends in our MFA Program at Antioch Los Angeles in the mid-00s. Lara was writing her second Dark Shadows novel, and I was also writing a vampire novel. Her attitude towards me at first was very Angelique--i.e., Who Are YOU To Also Be Writing a Vampire Novel in My MFA Program? I'm not sure how that morphed into friendship, but the shift happened rather quickly, as I recall. At the time, I had not yet seen Dark Shadows.

At some point, I think after we'd both graduated, our mutual friend Dodie Bellamy (who we'd both studied with at Antioch) contacted me because there was going to be a Dark Shadows Festival in Hollywood, and she wondered if I'd like to attend with her and watch the fans go wild over Lara. I had no idea what to expect, but the fans did in fact go wild over her. She was still so beautiful and so poised. The Festival made me curious about Dark Shadows, and I became a fan of the show. Lara and I both attended Jim Krusoe's writing workshop at Santa Monica College, and I kept asking her questions about Dark Shadows and old-school soap opera production in general (because I was writing Can't Find My Way Home). She would do Angelique's evil laugh for me, to my delight. For years, whenever there was a Dark Shadows Festival in town or she was doing some other event, I'd go and catch up with her--usually while she signed many, many autographs. I hadn't seen her in several years. She was such a warm friend, and I will miss her terribly.

I've been going down a Kinks rabbit hole, ever since I recently chose a song of theirs, "(A) Face in the Crowd" as a chapter title in the novel I'm revising. The song comes from their 1975 concept album Soap Opera, which is not considered one of their best, though I'm very fond of it. I first got into it while I was working on my soap opera novel Can't Find My Way Home (although there's really only one song on the album that has anything to do with soap operas: "You Make It All Worthwhile," which makes amusing use of old-timey melodramatic organ effects). Back then I had a hellish work commute, and I would often find myself listening to "Rush Hour Blues" from the CD during my drive across town. But I never delved into the history of the album until a few days ago, via YouTube.

It turns out that the project began as a Granada TV special, Star Maker, which contains many of the songs from the album (though I prefer the album's arrangements) and expands a little on the story. Apparently there were plans for a theatrical production that never bore fruit, but the Soap Opera tour used multimedia and some of the same dialogue and costumes from the Granada special.

Soap Opera tells the story of a rock star (the Starmaker, played by Ray Davies) who decides to trade places with an accountant named Norman so he can write a album about somebody Really Ordinary. The star, who is arrogant, vain, and entitled, even moves in with Norman's wife Andrea and shares her bed. Housewife Andrea (played brilliantly by June Ritchie in the TV special, on the album, and during the Soap Opera tour) acquiesces somewhat nervously, calling the Starmaker "dear" and "darling," preparing his meals, and urging him to get to the office on time.

We never actually see the real Norman, though for much of the story, Andrea keeps referring to him ("my Norman") in contrast to the Starmaker. Then things take a turn, and Andrea insists that the Starmaker has always been Norman, and that if he doesn't shape up and quit pretending to be a rock star, she'll leave him. At first the the Starmaker tries to convince her of his identity. (In the Granada special, he shows her his press clippings. During the Soap Opera tour, Davies hilariously insists that "I'm not Norman, I'm Ray Davies, I'm in the Kinks!", says "Andrea, don't embarrass me in front of the Kinks!" and tries to prove his identity by playing "Sunny Afternoon" while wearing "my rock'n'roll cloak.") Nothing sways her--at which point, he too comes to believe that he's Norman. He sings the beautiful "(A) Face in the Crowd," in which he renounces his rock'n'roll fantasy. The story ends with "You Can't Stop the Music," a paean to rock stars who fade away while their music endures. (In the Granada special, Norman and Andrea watch from the audience while the rest of the Kinks perform the song.)

I wish that the available video for the Soap Opera live tour wasn't crappy and in black and white (though the audio is fine); it's a multi-camera shoot, and I suspect somewhere there must be a pristine color version. The video of the Granada special is quite watchable, and there's something about Norman's uncanny journey that I find very affecting.

I have two Bluesky invite codes if anyone would like one.

I had a wonderful Readercon, which is a good thing, considering how difficult it was to get there. Bad weather resulted in my flight being diverted to Pittsburgh, where we sat in the plane for three hours and in the terminal for another hour. Fortunately, we didn't have to spend the night in Pittsburgh, though I didn't make it to my hotel until after 3 a.m. Once there, it was great to catch up with friends, and I thoroughly enjoyed the panels and readings I participated in and those I attended as an audience member. The Sylvia Townsend Warner panel and the Fantasy Magazine reading were especially rich.

There are friends who I wish could have been there, and other friends I only got to see in passing, but I'm very glad I attended. For the most part I was impressed by Readercon's COVID precautions. I was less than thrilled that some participants ignored the very clear masking requirements or treated them as something to negotiate on a case-by-case basis.

Now I am home and wildly jetlagged (after a blessedly uneventful trip home), and I'm happy to reveal that my poem "the jacarandas consider blooming" will appear in the Worlds of Possibility anthology, edited by Julia Rios! I got to debut the poem at Julia's Readercon reading, which was a lot of fun.