Electric Boogaloo.
I got it. Five hundred thousand dollars, bitches.
Well, okay. Twenty-one thousand dollars. Even so.
Electric Boogaloo.
I got it. Five hundred thousand dollars, bitches.
Well, okay. Twenty-one thousand dollars. Even so.
is here. I look forward to a bit of leisure to read some of these. Thanks to Seth Roberts, who is getting increasingly deranged, but still worth listening to with one ear.
Just finished my first new post-contest story. One a day for almost two months and now this is an accomplishment; funny. Goes to show that streaks, competition, are about the most powerful things ever.
Feels good to finish something, though. I missed it.
I think the Clarkesworld rejection has already spoiled me; all the other markets are estimated at a month or more before they get back to you. I’m waiting to hear from Theresa before I send Twenty Ten out again. Since turnaround times from here on out are so long I’ve got to be strategic. The process from now on is gonna be a slow churn.
Third story, Nothing To Be Afraid Of And No Pain is going to Apex. They like dark sci-fi, which is just about perfect for that one. I cleaned it up very slightly but it was already as done as I could make it. Further changes would likely be for the worse.
Next up, if I can get reviewers’ comments, is Not What You Would Say Is Love which you might remember as the “Dad’s fucking a Russian Whore” story. Folks willing to crit this thing sooner rather than later (as in, within a few days) give me a shout. Now that I’m submitting I have this visceral need to fill the pipeline.
It’s interesting that over the course of CCW0809 I wrote more stories than I had written in my entire life to that point. With submission #3 I have already submitted more stories than I have submitted in my entire life. What other wonders does 2010 hold? Will I bathe more than I have in my entire life? That’s low-hanging fruit. Hmm.
Just keeping ya’ll up to date. This one went to McSweeney’s, which is somehow even less likely to go through than the one to Clarkesworld. But I don’t care. The piece is perfect for them, and it’s good enough. And when it gets rejected, I’ll send it to someone else.
Did I mention 2010 was gonna be my year?
This morning, for what is essentially the first time ever, I submitted a story. To Clarkesworld magazine, which has published some pretty compelling work in the past. Spar, by Kij Johnson, I liked particularly. [Mom: don't read it.]
for repeatedly quoting shit from this series of essays. But I read a couple of them every day, for a break, and I keep being struck by them. So here’s another:
For instance, the other day I recalled a famous passage from Adam Smith that I wanted to cite: something about an earthquake in China. I briefly considered scouring my shelves in search of my copy of The Wealth of Nations. But I have thousands of books spread throughout my house, and they are badly organized. I recently spent an hour looking for a title, and then another skimming its text, only to discover that it wasn’t the book I had wanted in the first place. And so it would have proved in the present case: for the passage I dimly remembered from Smith is to be found in The Theory of Moral Sentiments. Why not just type the words “adam smith china earthquake” into Google? Mission accomplished.
Of course, more or less everyone has come to depend on the Internet in this way. Increasingly, however, I rely on Google to recall my own thoughts. Being lazy, I am prone to cannibalizing my work: something said in a lecture will get plowed into an op-ed; the op-ed will later be absorbed into a book; snippets from the book may get spoken in another lecture. This process will occasionally leave me wondering just how and where and to what shameful extent I have plagiarized myself. Once again, the gates of memory swing not from my own medial temporal lobes but from a computer cluster far away, presumably where the rent is lower.
When I was in the AI lab at USC we always talked about building an AI, teaching it in various clever ways — teach it like you teach a child! — and this is a clever way of thinking about AI that various AI labs are starting to catch on to, although the main thing about AI labs is that they don’t really like to be called AI labs anymore since the term is so effusive, and they know it.
But we don’t spend enough time thinking about cognition as an enterprise, something to be done cooperatively, even though we do it all the time: Monica knows where everything is in the house; I know the best way to make a pizza. She puts it in the oven, I check it, or tell her when to check it. She tells me where to find my socks. This is a stupid example but it’s one everybody can understand.
But there’s another level, one we’re just starting to see plainly because it’s so plain, and that level is using tools to think, to remember. And most of what’s happened so far has been an accident, as in the above quote, and the tools help us with our “thinking” almost as an afterthought. I’ve been interested for years in making a tool that helped us think better, whose main purpose would be for that and not anything else, but various things have kept me from it.
Someday, when Wes graduates, we can start building it.
Is that if something really matters, if you _really_ want to be good at something — which is different than simply saying that you want to be good at it — you’ve got to do it every day. Even if it’s just some tiny increment forward; even if the effort is rubbish, or a failure. You gotta do _something_.
The other thing I know is that that isn’t enough by itself. For instance:
Check out the ninth-grade me, awash in dreams of power and madness. I can’t remember what I wanted to be great at at this point other than basketball. And I was eventually pretty good at basketball, by some standards. But I didn’t live anywhere where I could play basketball with other people, get in pickup games, etc, so I just practiced by myself in the driveway. Which was beautiful in its way, but isn’t enough. Basketball is a team sport, and there’s only so far you can get by yourself.
So now I wonder how many of the things that matter to me now, things that I am in fact making the requisite effort toward, amount to me practicing in the driveway? And even if I practice every day, it won’t be enough?
I’m having this thing lately where I read something so delightful I have to run and post it before I even finish the article.
Apparently, not trying to slaughter your girlfriend is insufficient qualification for public office, even in Illinois, and even at a time when Sarah Palin is considered a serious presidential contender.
From here. With a beginning like that, this thing has got to be awesome.
UPDATE:
Okay, I have to quote another part, just because it’s the first time I’ve seen in print the same thing I rant about myself to anyone who will listen to me, which means Monica, and Peaches:
Consider the incoherent platform of the tea party’s new “Ensuring Liberty” PAC. It will “choose candidates based on their fidelity to … the ‘first principles’: less government, fiscal responsibility, lower taxes, states rights and national security,” Ensuring Liberty spokesman Mark Skoda told The New York Times. Really? How do you reconcile the demand for less government with a right wing vision of national security that includes a federal bureaucracy empowered to monitor our travel, our reading habits (on and offline), and our communications (enlisting the aid of telecoms in doing so)? How do you reconcile less government, fiscal responsibility, and lower taxes with support for continued war, not to mention a government that “keeps its hand off” Medicare and Social Security?
Hands off my Medicare indeed.