fine print and flights of foundry
Eminent readers,
My poem "Fine Print" is in the September/October issue of Asimov's Science Fiction Magazine! It begins:
There is no rule that says the child must be of your body.
Fathers have sold their girls for curling kale.
Thus, even if your first-born child
was not your child first, if he walked north out of the drought
to the land where the ash trees are dying...
This is a fairy-tale poem, obviously, but the ash trees are real, and so is some of the fear. The poem is written in part for friends of mine. I drafted it before the next generation was on the horizon, but their adopted son has just celebrated the birth of his first child.
If you'd like to read the rest of the poem, you can buy a single digital issue from Magzter or order a single print issue over the phone at 1-800-220-7443. Haunting the newsstand of your local Barnes and Noble is also a good bet. And of course, you can always subscribe to Asimov's!
My spouse and I went up to Bay City for our anniversary earlier this month. In Michigan mitten-geography terms, the city lies on the stretchy bit of skin between thumb and forefinger. We visited a Great Lake and a wetland. The lake is too big for a single camera frame, somehow, but the marsh was photogenic:
A lot of my writing energy has been going to mathematical projects lately (about which more anon!), but I have a sailing-ship and an alien marsh project on the back burner, so you can think of this photo as a preview of the very far future.
In the near future, I'll be at Flights of Foundry this weekend. This is an online science fiction convention, free/pay what you will. I'm moderating a panel on mosaic novels at 4 PM US Eastern time on Saturday--the guest of honor Vajra Chandrasekera will be on it, so you know you want to come!--and playing a story-heavy rpg with some fellow Neon Hemlock folks starting at 7 that evening. Then Sunday afternoon at 3 PM Eastern I'll be on a poetry panel.
I expect the cats will tune in for part of the convention; fall weather makes them extra sociable. Here's Kosmas enjoying a pile of blankets.
Yours,
Ursula.