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The New Place, and Other Recent News

Recently spotted in Value Village. I believe this is the god of pumpkin spice.
Recently spotted in Value Village. I believe this is the god of pumpkin spice.
We are mostly unpacked and settling into West Seattle. The construction across the way continues, and they’re working frantically to get the place done before the rainy season sets in. I give them a 50/50% chance of making it.

The high ceilings here make the place feel enormous, as does the extra 300 square feet we’ve picked up. We’ve also got substantially more closet and cupboard space. The view from the kitchen window remains a thing of wonder; every night it gives me a beautiful sunset with sound and mountains. Yesterday there was sunlight coming in through the leaves and flickering on the cabinet so beautifully that I had to call Wayne to come and look. The cats like the new place, particularly the carpet in the study.

Downsides are small so far — we’ll definitely need to get a portable AC for at least one room next summer in order to survive. We certainly can hear the restaurant — but the hours are such that it’s hasn’t been bothersome at all and it means we never need to worry that our TV or music is too loud in turn. There are raccoons who like to come up the back stairs and trip the motion detector driven light. Garbage is much more complicated than it was in Redmond: here we have to separate out food waste and there’s no handy dumpster.

picture of a tortoiseshell cat
Taco says the sunlight is good here but the pillows are too small.
The best feature, for me at least, remains the location. A few dozen coffee shops are within my walking range. The library is a six minute walk away. If I wanted to, I could take the water taxi into Seattle. Also within walking distance: multiple thrift stores, several parks, an antique mall, four large grocery stores, a 24 hour Bartells Drug Store, two bookstores, an art supply store, a post office, a pet food store that carries the cans of gold that are the only thing Raven can eat, and some of the most beautiful views around. The Unitarian Church is a hour walk, but a ten minute drive isn’t too bad.

Saturday we finished up cleaning the condo. A friend just moved to the area, so we’re happy to be able to have him staying there and making sure no one sets up a meth lab or tiger breeding facility or something like that while we’re gone.

Recent writing news:

  • “Marvelous Contrivances of the Heart” just appeared in Fiction River: Recycled Pulp, edited by John Helfers.
  • I turned in my story, “The Curious Peregrinations of a Goat Herder,” for the Champions of Aeltalis book, and Marc Tassin liked it.
  • “He Knows When You’ve Been Sleeping” will appear in Naughty or Nice, edited by Jennifer Brozek. This is a humorous story that edges into R realms and is also the first Christmas story I’ve written, which is a slightly odd combo.
  • “Rappacini’s Crow” was rereleased in the Best of Beneath Ceaseless Skies Year Six.
  • Two collaborations are forthcoming: “The Mermaid Club” with Mike Resnick and novella “Haunted” with Bud Sparhawk.
  • A notable recent reprint is “Tortoiseshell Cats are Not Refundable”, which originally appeared in Clarkesworld Magazine, and will be reprinted in The Best American Fantasy and Science Fiction, edited by Joe Hill with series editor John Joseph Adams.
  • Recent Patreon stories are Talking in the Night and Snakes on a Train.
  • Other upcoming stories include “Tongues of Moon Toad” in The Bestiary Anthology, edited by Ann and Jeff VanderMeer; “Preferences” in Chasing Shadows, edited by David Brin; “Red in Tooth and Cog” in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction; novelette “The Threadbare Magician” in Genius Loci, edited by Jaym Gates; “As the Crow Flies, So Does the Road” in Grendelsong, edited by Paul Jessup; and “Call and Answer, Plant and Harvest” in Beneath Ceaseless Skies.

photo of Cat Rambo with flowers
The kitchen is airy and light; it makes a more compelling argument for buying fresh flowers than the old place.
Recent teaching news:

That’s all for now! Looking forward to an October spent exploring this new space and finally finishing up this goddamn book.

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"(On the writing F&SF workshop) Wanted to crow and say thanks: the first story I wrote after taking your class was my very first sale. Coincidence? nah….thanks so much."

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Goodbye, Jitters

Exterior of the Redmond Jitters Coffee Shop
Silver and gold balloons adorn the Jitters exterior. They've been around 22 years!
Today was a mournful day. Every morning I go grab coffee at a local coffee shop called Jitters, which has been around Redmond much longer than I have: 22 years to my 14. But now they’ve had to close their location (a repurposed bank building) and haven’t been able to find a new place.

They’re celebrating their last day in style: balloons, a big card for everyone to sign, and free coffee all day long, but there is a sad undertone to the merriment. We’d gone through the drivethrough, then came in to sign the card and say goodbye. Last week, I’d made sure to sign up for the mailing list, to be notified if they find a new location, but so far the manager hasn’t seemed very hopeful about that.

As we were coming towards the door, a gentleman was coming out. We nodded at each other and he paused. Both of us felt, I think, a need to mark the occasion, to acknowledge the Jitters bond. “Sad day,” he said. “Very sad,” I replied. Inside all the baristas were glammed out and a little shell-shocked, I think, that this day had come.

Picture of Bromeliad, Chemex, Globe, and a dragon-shaped mug.
This is my new lifestyle. It's more solitary yet stylish. The dragon mug is from my crazy aunt.
Meanwhile, I’ve bought a lovely Chemex in order to make coffee at home after reading a recent Chuck Wendig post about it. I fear that I finally have fallen into the Seattle trap and become a coffee snob. I even have some Tonx coffee coming, since they are willing to give you a free sample. And there’s a pleasing ritual to it, the dousing of the filter in hot water, then using that water to warm the mug. Wayne got me an electric kettle for Christmas after watching the two saucepan version of that dance, and it rocks.

Still, I will sorely miss Wendy and Megan and Amanda and all the rest of the cheerful Jitters crew.

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Getting Ready for 2014: One Method of Decluttering

Picture of a teapot shaped like a dead clown.
I have a photo of this fabulous object, a clown teapot with cups shaped like clown heads, each with xes for eyes, as though the principal clown had slain all his enemies and taken their severed heads in the process. Therefore it's okay I didn't buy it. Someone else gets all the joy.
We’ve (as in two humans, two cats, a briefly lived betta, and assorted temporary insects) lived in this space since 2001. While I’ve decluttered and cleaned before, cruft inevitably creeps in. An odd little ball colored red, white, and blue. Countless keys. Sharpies in a rainbow of colors. Twists and ties and clips. Twenty years after my D&D days, there’s still a few polyhedrals rolling around.

Many things have memories attached, and discarding the object sometimes feels like discarding the memory. The paperweight I bought in Prague while traveling to train Eastern Europeans about network security software. A tin butterfly from our time in Mexico when I was a child. The sequinned baby shoes I use as a prop in the flash class. I feel as though if I put them aside I may lose the thing that triggers the memory.

While I’m not ditching everything, a lot of these are getting digitized. I take a few pictures with my camera and stick it aside. Here’s an example of a book I’ve been carrying around since high days. My paternal grandmother got it for me when I expressed an interest in folk tales and folk songs. I drew on it heavily when writing songs for Armageddon, sometimes adapting songs outright, otherwise creating ones patterned after the originals.

It’s a hefty doorstop of a book. I suspect I’ll be able to find this knowledge, or comparable stuff, on the net whenever I need to. But at the same time, the object holds memories: sitting in my room in high school, reading through it, while the rain drummed on the roof and the locust tree outside my window tapped its long fingers on the glass, for one. Performing songs based on it as my bard on Armageddon, purple-haired, seemingly bemused but secretly sharp, Karaluvian Fale. I take more than just a photo of the dustjacket: one of the inside so I can see the font, another of an illustration, one of an enigmatic and very scrawly note. Enough that I’ll be able to evoke it, access those memories again if I want to.

What’s the best way to preserve these images? I haven’t gotten that far yet. For now I’m saving and tagging, and trying to shrink down the mass of physical stuff attached to my life.

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