From SFWA, the winners are

NOVEL: Among Others, by Jo Walton (Tor)

NOVELLA: “The Man Who Bridged the Mist,” Kij Johnson (Asimov’s Science Fiction, October/November 2011)

NOVELLETTE: “What We Found,” Geoff Ryman (The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, September/October 2011)

SHORT STORY: “The Paper Menagerie,” Ken Liu (The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, March/April 2011)

RAY BRADBURY AWARD FOR OUTSTANDING DRAMATIC PRESENTATION: Doctor Who: “The Doctor’s Wife,” Neil Gaiman (writer), Richard Clark (director) (BBC Wales)

ANDRE NORTON AWARD FOR YOUNG ADULT SCIENCE FICTION AND FANTASY BOOK: The Freedom Maze, Delia Sherman (Big Mouth House)

2011 DAMON KNIGHT GRAND MASTER AWARD: Connie Willis

SOLSTICE AWARD: Octavia Butler (posthumous) and John Clute

SERVICE TO SFWA AWARD: Bud Webster

Also posted at Dreamwidth, where there are comment(s); comment here or there.

A section of Belldandy’s dock

Friday night I installed my upgrade to Adobe Creative Suite 6. It took about 20 minutes (I think – I was multitasking away from the computer) and went without incident. Adobe installations are usually a bit painful, but this one seemed a little better – asking for my admin password only once and loading off of a single DVD – so no disk swaps.

The thing that stunned me a bit was the CS6 icons. They are hideous (in my opinion, of course). I thought the CS5.5 icons were a step down from CS3 – but who would have expected that things could get even worse?

I considered seeing if I could get used to the icons – after all, I got used to the CS3 periodic table type icons – but decided the new icons simply clashed with all the other icons in the dock. These icons had to go.

I did a search of CS Icons at IconArchive, and while there were some that were nice and elegant, I decided to go back to the CS3 icons. Those have been Installed in my CS6 metadata. The dock looks much better now.

Congratulations on your Nebula win, Jo!

*dances the happy happy dance, throwing sparkles around, and waving at papersky*

The Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers of America, Inc. is pleased to announce the recipients of the 2011 Nebula Awards®.

THE RECIPIENTS OF THE 2011 NEBULA AWARDS:

NOVEL: Among Others, by Jo Walton (Tor)

NOVELLA: “The Man Who Bridged the Mist,” Kij Johnson (Asimov’s Science Fiction, October/November 2011)

NOVELLETTE: “What We Found,” Geoff Ryman (The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, September/October 2011)

SHORT STORY: “The Paper Menagerie,” Ken Liu (The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, March/April 2011)

RAY BRADBURY AWARD FOR OUTSTANDING DRAMATIC PRESENTATION: Doctor Who: “The Doctor’s Wife,” Neil Gaiman (writer), Richard Clark (director) (BBC Wales)

ANDRE NORTON AWARD FOR YOUNG ADULT SCIENCE FICTION AND FANTASY BOOK: The Freedom Maze, Delia Sherman (Big Mouth House)

2011 DAMON KNIGHT GRAND MASTER AWARD: Connie Willis

SOLSTICE AWARD: Octavia Butler (posthumous) and John Clute

SERVICE TO SFWA AWARD: Bud Webster

“This is a fantastic list that shows both the width and depth of our genre. It shows that Science Fiction and Fantasy are not static but continue to grow and change. We are truly blessed with a fantastic slate of finalists this year. That these authors came out as the winners, is a credit to both the strength of the slate itself and the individual authors, and I couldn’t be happier for you. Congratulations to you all.”
-John Scalzi
President
Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America

“While the Nebula Awards are voted on by the members of SFWA, before we were professional writers, each of us is a fan of the genre. The winners of the Nebulas represent not just a critical achievement, but also that these are all really good reads. I’m very proud of all of the recipients’ work.”
-Mary Robinette Kowal
Vice President
Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America.

THE NEBULA AWARD

The Nebula Awards® are voted on and presented by the active members of SFWA for outstanding science fiction and fantasy published in 2011. The awards were announced at the Nebula Awards® Banquet held at the Hyatt Regency Crystal City in Arlington, Virginia.

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Mirrored from SFWA | Comment at SFWA

Marika Kato Mouretsu Pirates, Episode 20

A very brief note on this week’s episodes...

Mōretsu Pirates Episode 20:
As is typical for this series, the start of a new arc starts slowly, laying groundwork. Next week is when the action begins. I’m looking forward to it.

Fate / Zero Episode 19:
The continuation of last week’s backstory on Kiritsu was awesome. Intense, serious... and sad. Well-written and well-directed.

Sakamichi no Apollon (Kids on the Slope) Episode 6:
Ooooh. I don’t like the new guy at all. I guess the writers thought we needed more conflict, as if each of the characters wasn’t already feeling crummy. Good writing – but I’d like to see this new problem eliminated as soon as possible; he doesn’t fit with the rest of the story.

Tsuritama Episode 6:
Something is starting to brew. I’ve been waiting for the more serious part of the story, and we seem to be getting somewhere now. More to be revealed next week, I hope.

Tasogare Otome x Amnesia (Dusk Maiden of Amnesia) Episode 6:
This was a nice, creepy episode with a very stylish presentation – more serious than other episodes in the series... a lot of fun to watch.

Zetman Episode 7:
The battle continues; lotsa fighting. A good rock-em sock-em episode.

Accel World Episode 7:
Two simultaneous battles kept this episode moving with furious energy – although there was an awful lot of talking (that I didn’t mind at all but seemed awkwardly incongruous). I have suspicions about Aqua Current (I haven’t read the light novels). Overall – another great episode.

Poyopoyo Episode 20:
Lotsa cuteness... and a Poyo mini-me!

Well! Last night I was “in a state” as my mother used to say. I flew from Los Angeles into Miami. Only a four-and-a-half hours, which is nothing compared to the 24 hour journey from Portland to Northern Ireland. But I’ve never traveled when I’m ill, before. And I never. Ever. EVER. Want to do it again. Except I have to in a week. Gulp!

I was fine during the actual journey because I’ve become an expert at putting off how bad I actually feel until I’m alone, then I literally collapse. I have always put a good face on things and actually believe my own hype. I feel just fine until that moment, in this instance, when the valet has taken his tip and closed the hotel door behind him.

I went into the bathroom to take off my makeup, but didn’t have the strength to stand in front of the mirror. I ended up crouching on the edge of the bathtub and doing it all by touch. I used the faucet in the bath to wash… too tired to even take a shower.

Is this the shape of things to come? I asked myself, a perfect picture of abject misery and self pity. I dragged myself into bed and went comatose. I dreamed that I was at a friend’s house. A group of us sat around the firepit after dinner, chatting. In the distance a clap of thunder cracked the air and forked lightning stabbed the earth. As I watched, the lightning lost its hold in the sky, and the bottom of it, which looked like a blazing spider-like monster, crackled across the fields toward us. As it approached the firepit the lightning became black, and turned into that alien tentacled monster that invades my dreams from time to time. I jumped to my feet, ran round the fire and confronted it.

“How dare you come here!” I yelled. “I will not allow you to spoil this for me!”

It vanished with a hiss.

I woke up with a start in my friend’s house, where she leaned over a banister to call to me. We discussed at length why I kept dreaming about the monster. By the way, I don’t know who this friend is, but she resembles a wonderful new friend I met at Norwescon, called Sonia. This is where the dream got a bit silly. She suggested we should submerge in a submarine and see if I was afraid of octopi. I agreed.

Then I woke up again. For real this time.

Looking outside I saw that it had rained during the night, and learned later there had been a huge thunder and lightning storm. Interesting!

This dream kind of told me that no, the exhaustion and the illness are not the shape of things to come. My mind is already fighting that notion. But this will be the last of my socializing, traveling, lunching, camping, obliging, for a couple of months. I’m going to have to go into convalescent mode for real. I’ve been trying to do too much too soon, and have burned myself out. So, although I’ll come to events if I feel up to them, please don’t expect me for a while. But I’ll be back! And I’ll blog here in the meantime.

On Facebook I mentioned there had been an obnoxious passenger on the plane to Miami. I was in seat A of two seats on the left side of the plane; he was in B just behind and one seat over. By some luck of the draw the B seat beside me remained empty so I was able to spread out a bit, putting my computer case and Kindle on the empty seat within easy reach. The lady in front of me pushed the button in her seat and the back of it slammed into recline. You know how it is. Everyone does it. I wish there was an early warning sign so I could get my knees or head or whatever it is that’s going to get hit, out of the way. So I pushed the button on my seat, gently edging it back an inch to give me a little breathing room.

Next thing a hand reaches between the seats, fumbles for the button on the empty seat, and it gets pushed violently to the upright position. It must have edged back when I put mine back. Trouble is, my seat shot to the upright position again, too. I waited a few moments and surreptitiously pushed the button and very carefully edged back again, making sure the empty seat stayed put.

The person directly behind me must have started fumbling in the seat pocket on the back of my seat, because I suddenly felt jabs and pokes in the small of my back. I didn’t react and it eventually stopped.

Then I was aware of someone standing over me. I looked up, a smile ready on my face, expecting the flight attendant to be asking me what I wanted to drink. But it was the man in seat B. He was adjusting his sweater or something, glaring fixedly at me whilst he did it. I smoothed my face into a neutral expression, held his eye for a second as though to say, “Don’t mess with me,” and then pointedly ignored him. He stood there for what seemed like minutes, but probably only seconds. I was aware of him the whole time, and when he eventually sat back down I found myself breathing a sigh of relief.

Dinner (as such) was served, and hungry, I took a grateful bite out of my gluten free sandwich. Next thing a large Burger King bag filled with greasy trash came sailing over the back of the seat beside me, spilling some noxious yellow fluid onto my (cloth) computer case.

I grabbed it before it could spill any more, found myself holding it up and saying loudly, “What the hell?”

“What am I supposed to do, put it on the floor?” demanded the man.

“I don’t mind you putting it there,” I said evenly through gritted teeth. “But it’s polite to ask. You’ve stained my computer bag.”

He grabbed the paper bag from my hand, crumpled it up into a ball and threw it on the floor. “Happy?” he demanded.

“Not really,” I muttered, but didn’t want to engage him.

The rest of the flight I was on edge, waiting for him to do something else. But he limited himself to sticking his legs out into the aisle and sighing loudly every time someone tried to get past. When I got up to go to the back of the plane I was very careful that he didn’t trip me. I didn’t make eye contact, and kept a beatific expression on my face. (That always really annoys people when they’re trying to goad you.)

When the flight mercifully landed without further incident, it was my turn to be a bit of an ass. He was right behind me in the aisle as the passengers filed off, and although I was slow due to my recent knee surgery, I made myself walk even slower, forcing him to huff and puff in exasperation behind me. A wheelchair awaited me, and he had to wait further while I was settled into it and pushed into the terminal. Hee hee! That was kind of fun.

I told the volunteer who pushed my wheelchair about it, and she told me to write to American Airlines and tell them about him. If others write too, she says he’ll be banned from flying American again. I think I just might. If anything, just to warn them about him. Should his anger escalate, he could be more than just obnoxious. He could be a downright danger to everyone on board.

So, those are my adventures for the time being. Today I indulged in a body treatment and massage that did much to restore my spirits and feeling of well-being.

Just before that I had a go in the sauna, got sufficiently sweaty and hot, then dashed into the ice-cold plunge just outside. A group of six guests from Cuba shrieked and looked at me in horror. I could scarcely get back out again for laughing, then went into the steam room. I could hear the ladies talking animatedly for some time, recognizing words such as "loca". But no one else attempted the plunge pool. I felt quite strong and rather proud of my northern Viking heritage! I'm definitely on the mend. Cheers. :-)

...Gavriella Levy Haskell, 2012 winner of the Emogene Mahony Memorial Prize for the best essay on a literary subject written by a first-year student! It was one of 16 prizes awarded by the English department at Smith's Ivy Day Awards Convocation.

Gavi's paper was on Peter Mark Roget, of Roget's Thesaurus. I enjoyed her enthusiasm when she told me about the paper back in April, a few days after she finished it. I look forward to reading it soon.

Emogene Mahony received her Bachelor of Arts from Smith in 1900. Thanks to Google, I found various past winners of the award, including a 1957 newspaper article mentioning that year's winner. The only other things I've learned about Emogene is that she was an Associate on staff at the American School of Classical Studies in Rome in 1907-1908, was listed in the Woman's Who's Who in 1914, and that her name also graces a Smith Music Prize for proficiency at the organ. Oh, and she lived in Scarborough on Hudson, NY, in 1916-1917. (I love living in the future.) A directory from the American School of Classical Studies that dates from the mid-1930s or later states Emogene died January 15, 1925. :-(

I love learning even these small tidbits about a woman I'd never heard of before today. Smith awarded more than 100 prizes today, most of them named for (and presumably funded by the gifts of) Smith alumnae.

'Twas a good day.

http://fivethirtyeight.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/05/19/the-most-powerful-special-interest-in-washington-the-acronym/

A linguistic plague is creeping through the nation's capital - the "bacronym," where a PAC or bill name is chosen so that the initial letters of each word form a desired word.

Why is it authors like to turn Irene Adler into the pawn of the male characters in Holmes? Wasn't the point of the character that she played her own game?

Also posted at Dreamwidth, where there are comment(s); comment here or there.

It's the May Two-Four.

Also posted at Dreamwidth, where there are comment(s); comment here or there.

Some (such as Frederik Pohl) say that the Postal Service is collapsing because of sly tricks by the Republicans to destroy any form of public service that works at all; they are correct. Some say the Postal Service, like newspapers, is being destroyed by the Computer Revolution and the sheer volume of tasks (such as bill paying) that used to have to be done by mail and now aren't; they are correct, too.

But the Postal Service is doing its share. I saw someone online (I don't remember where) rejoicing that Gwendolyn Brooks is on a stamp, and vowing to buy hundreds of those stamps and mail letters with them. She can't do it, at least not without buying an equal number of the stamps honoring nine other poets. You can't buy just Gwendolyn Brooks stamps, or just Sylvia Plath stamps, or just Wallace Stevens stamps. You can't buy Ratatouille stamps without buying the stamps for four other Pixar flicks. The Postal Service has always wanted to sell lots of stamps, especially to people who will not bother to stick them on letters, but they're shooting themselves in the foot on this one. I can't say I'm surprised.

http://file770.com/?p=8997

Chicon 7 now has added the material for the Best Fan Writer, Best Fan Artist, and Best Editor – Long Form categories to the 2012 Hugo Voter Packet.

The committee says, “We will be adding the remaining categories progressively over the next few days.”

http://culturepulp.typepad.com/culturepulp/2012/05/cort-and-fatboy-the-bill-plympton-interview.html

Indie animation legend Bill Plympton dropped by the Friday, May 18 "Cort & Fatboy" podcast in support of a new documentary about him, "Adventures in Plymptoons" -- which is making a tour of McMenamins beer-theaters for the rest of the month.

We had a nice wide-ranging chat with Bill and the doc's director, Alexia Anastasio.Topics discussed: "Plympton’s career, the making of the documentary, and the strange path to stardom Plympton took -- starting on the banks of the Clackamas, winding through illustrations for a succession of skin mags, animating bumpers for MTV, getting short films screened with Don Herzfeldt and Mike Judge, turning down a million-dollar contract from Disney, and populated with people like Terry Gilliam, Ron Jeremy, David Carradine, Matthew Modine and Kanye West."

(Also, for a few minutes at the end, I just straight-up loathed "Battleship.")

Show-notes here.

Cort and Fatboy (Friday, May 18, 2012) [ iTunes feed ]

http://culturepulp.typepad.com/culturepulp/2012/05/movie-review-battleship.html

Movie review in the Friday, May 18 Oregonian....

Mainstream big-screen filmmaking is in a weird, risk-averse rut right now. As detailed in Mark Harris' 2011 GQ essay "The Day the Movies Died" and elsewhere, studios are now building their major releases almost exclusively around existing, easily recognized brands instead of original stories -- and it's led to a stunning lack of variety at your local cineplex.

As Harris points out, "brands" can be book series, theme-park rides, toys, or previous hits that can be sequelized, prequelized or remade. Sometimes, as in the case of "The Avengers," the brand is a comic book and the movie is executed beautifully.

But sometimes the brand turns out to be the Hasbro board game "Battleship" -- and it results in the dopiest, least-essential summer blockbuster since "Transformers 2."

Director Peter Berg ("The Rundown") takes a game about sticking pegs in a board full of plastic boats and re-imagines it as the story of military warships trying to fight off an alien invasion while trapped inside a force-field bubble that appears over Hawaii. The original board-game dynamics make an cameo in one scene where our heroes (commanded by Taylor Kitsch) try and figure out where the alien ships are on a gridded screen and shoot missiles at their best guesses.

There's almost nothing to "Battleship" beyond its grindingly dull, digitally rendered naval warfare; the flick could easily be retitled "Flying Ordnance and Forgettable Stars: The Motion Picture." Berg directs the film like he knows how silly and glandular and sub-Michael Bay it all is -- but even the winks don't excuse the sheer insulting amount of belief suspension he asks of the audience.

This is a movie where the aliens repeatedly and conveniently choose to hold their fire when they really shouldn't; where a decommissioned battleship can be instantly re-armed and staffed by elderly sailors who seemingly turn up by magic; where nearly every character is a doofus who makes bad decisions and speaks in rudimentary questions; and where mashing up imagery from a Hasbro board game, "Halo" and the Pearl Harbor attack seemed like a fine, tasteful idea.
_____

(131 min., rated PG-13) Grade: D-plus

'Battleship' (The Oregonian, Friday, May 18, 2012)

I bicycled from home to Bryant-Lake Bowl this morning, taking the Midtown Greenway. Greenway = AWESOME. Half an hour to Uptown through wildflowers, gardens, between old restored warehouse and manufacturing buildings, birds singing, kids playing soccer at Kix Field, and no automobile traffic. My legs were a mite wobbly when I got back, and I was sweaty as a sweaty thing, but I was also full of exercise and self-determination endorphins.

And what I went to Bryant-Lake Bowl for was the monthly Fiber Brunch, which I've been meaning to get to for, well, months. Doreen runs a terrific get-together. And we had extra big fun, because the cast of the Princess Bride Drinking Game show asked if they could use the theater stage to rehearse. Of course we warned them that we could all recite entire scenes, but would try to contain ourselves. They were terrific, and lots of fun to knit to. ("Inconceivable! *drink!*)

Now I'm having a beer. Because that's what you do after a bike ride.

http://asknicola.blogspot.com/2012/05/meatloaf-and-bashed-neeps.html

I like to eat. I like to eat a lot. Last night I indulged myself. On the menu:

• meatloaf (about one pound of ground beef, one pound of ground pork, onions and mushrooms sauteed in olive oil then finished with wine, a sprinkle of home-grown herbs, mush together, roast in the oven for about 45 minutes on 350)
• brussel sprouts and carrots (tossed in olive oil, then roasted with the meatloaf--though they were a teeny bit overdone, so next time I'll put them in ten minutes after the meatloaf
• bashed neeps (i.e. rutabaga: just cut it up, boil for 15 minutes or so, then rough mash)

Imagine very large serving size. Followed by a mound of fresh pineapple and a pile of blueberries. Followed by beatific smile. And tea.

Every time I walk through the parking lot at University Ave and Seagram Drive, I think of

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Also posted at Dreamwidth, where there are comment(s); comment here or there.