Goodbye 2025

May you be the worst year of our future lives.

As I predicted back in January, this year was not terrible for me personally. It's amazing how difference having enough money makes. We own like 26% of a house, we have a reliable car, we can buy whatever we want to eat and if our shoes wear out we can buy new shoes and if we're sick or injured or need new glasses, we can just see a doctor or even go to the hospital without facing financial ruin.

On the other hand: Dr Skull's health has been bad (though he's doing much better now and seems to be heading for total wellness).

On the other hand: Thanks to trans people being the new favorite scapegoat of MAGA and the GOP, my kid and his husband are losing rights one after the next. They have an escape plan, if necessary, but they really want to stay here in Fayetteville if they can. Our governor and our senators and our federal government are doing their best to make that impossible. 

(Side note: I can't believe people are still buying the "ooo those immigrants are destroying the country / ooo those trans people are destroying the country" con-job, but from what I have seen on "conservative" blogs and sites, they either actually are, or are pretending to be, buying it.)

On the other hand: Trump's circus of a government seems bent on destroying any progress the country made toward fixing global climate change.

On the other hand: GOP state governments seem determined to destroy the American education system. Ignorant people make good conservatives, after all.

On the other hand: GOP state governments and the federal government alike are stripping as many rights as they can from American citizens, including the right of due process and the right to control our own bodies, with more scheduled to be removed soon if they hold power.

On the other hand: Trump's circus of a government and the rest of the GOP are grifting every nickel they can to bribe billionaires and give tax breaks to the 1% and leave the rest of the country sick and poor and desperate. And the cost of living continues to increase.

Right now we seem on track to take back the government in 2026. May things get better after that. Please.  

Still Cold

It was nineteen degrees here when I took the dog to the dog park at dawn. There were ducks on the duck pond and the dog, despite the literally freezing temperature leapt into the pond after them. (They flapped away honking in a very satisfactory manner.)

Brrr!

Yesterday the temperature dropped from 72 degrees at 10:00 a.m. to 29 degrees at six p.m. This morning when I took the dog for his walk it was 16 degrees.

Brr!

It's so cold the dog doesn't even want to sit on the back deck and guard the yard, which is his usual occupation at this time of day.

White Men Are Being Excluded from Publishing O No

This is suddenly a new talking point on the MAGA Right:

 

The premise is that all of a sudden white men cannot get publishing contracts. All the books being published are by trans people, or brown people, or gay people or, you know, girls.

Is this true? (Spoiler: No.)

(It's interesting, also, that they don't count gay men as men. Or brown men as men. Only cisgendered white guys are actual men in this view of the world.)

The author of this opinion piece tries hard to make it seem true by setting her terms very carefully: white men who were born after 1984 (Why 1984? You got me). Her "evidence" is other opinion pieces which make exactly the same argument. She also notes that people's lists of favorite books have fewer white men on them than previously.

(Since I follow several threads about books on Reddit, where very nearly no one except white men ever gets recommended, I suspect she is setting her terms carefully here as well.)

Does she give evidence? Does she look at who is actually being published, who is actually being reviewed, who is actually winning awards? Don't be silly. She feels like white men can't get published, and her feelings are what count.

A. R. Moxon takes a deeper look here. As she notes at one point, the only actual primary source cited in any of these opinion pieces notes that while women are published more now than men, white men are publishing more ever, and clearly more than they did in the past.

Having to share space in the publishing world is, for the reactionary MAGA and for (some) white men apparently, the exact same thing as being discriminated against.

Since we're going to talk about feelings and anecdote instead of evidence, I'll retell a story I have told here before. When I was in graduate school, where white men were all we read and all we ever heard about, I did deliberately start reading more women writers. My (right-wing) brother came to visit, glanced at my bookshelves, and said, "I see you just read women now."

I was pretty sure that wasn't true, so I insisted we do a count. No shock, given the reading requirements of my classes, I had about twice as many male writers on my shelf as women. My brother saw a couple of titles by women, and he felt that meant I was only reading women.

Another anecdote: I was in an actual bookstore yesterday, the local Barnes & Noble, looking at the new publications. There were indeed a lot by women and brown people and brown women and LGBTQ people. There were also a lot by white men. I picked up one, which had an interesting title. The author's photo showed a serious young white man looking serious. The book was about some other young white man's feelings. I read the first page and was so bored I could not go on.

There were also tons of book by other white men there, including a new one by John Irving, who I was sure had to be dead by now, and about six by James Patterson (surely he is dead by now?) and some by white guys I feel must be dead by now. But our MAGA opinion holders are insisting we only count men born since 1984, so I guess those guys don't count.

Anyway. White conservatives sure like to pretend they're being discriminated against. It's pretty hilarious.

Chinese TakeOut for Christmas Dinner

We fulfill the obligation:

 

Christmas Day

It's very un-Christmasy weather here -- highs in the high 70s all week, with equally high humidity. When I walk the dog at dawn though, it is very pleasant, except for the damp. Today he chased two squirrels up a tree and then refused to leave the tree, circling it endlessly, sure they were about to come down again.

We're having a traditional Jewish Christmas day, with take-out Chinese. There's supposed to be a movie afterwards, but honestly nothing is playing here that we could stand to watch. Maybe we'll take the dog to the dog park instead.

Happy holidays to all y'all, however you celebrate!

My Reviews are Up at Asimov's

They'll be available for a few weeks, so read'em while they're hot.

Featured in this column:

Mary Soon Lee, The Sign of the Dragon

Emily Yu-Xuan Quin, Aunt Tigress

Chuck Tingle, Lucky Day

Ray Nayler, Where the Axe Is Buried

Charlie Jane Anders, Lessons in Magic and Disaster

Beth Revis, Last Chance to Save the World

Inspired by a Reddit Thread

This was a person asking how often people get headaches, and I was surprised to see that some people get them never or maybe once a year. 

I can't remember a time when I did not have a headache. I used to get brutal migraines once or twice a week; now I usually just have low-grade headaches non-stop (like on the pain scale, they're around two), with every week or so a brutal headache (seven to eight on the pain scale). Migraines are only once or twice a year now.

Is this not normal? Do any of you never have headaches?

What the fuck is that like?

Convincing a Vending Machine it's a Communist

 This is great:

Doctor or Miss?

When I was teaching, I expected my students to call me Dr. Jennings because the alternative was usually "Miss," as in, "Miss, when's the essay due again?"

I do not insist that other people call me Dr. Jennings, although Dr. Skull does. I do put "Doctor" as the choice on those internet forms, because honestly it's the only gender neutral form of address listed, though if "Comrade" was available I'd go for that.

Anyway, I did earn that doctorate, and I do prefer that to "Miss" or "Mrs." or even "Ms." However, I don't correct people who call me "Ms Jennings," or (worse) "Mrs. Jennings." 

Why do I bring this up?

Because the Right is having yet another tantrum over Jill Biden being called Dr. Biden. How dare anyone address her as anything other than Mrs. Biden, I guess? I don't know. It's not misogyny, they insist. It's because she's not a "real" doctor, by which they seem to mean medical doctor. (Notably, none of them seem to have doctorates.)

It's got nothing to do with her being a woman, they insist. Or Joe Biden's wife. NOTHING AT ALL. It's just the principle they care about.

God.

One Year in Our House

We've been living in our own house (which we own like 24% of now) for an entire year. Here's what I like best so farm, in no particular order:

(1) Oddly, I like not having to call the landlord when something breaks. It is true this means I must call someone when something breaks, and also pay for it, but somehow this is less stressful. I probably have PTSD from that asshole landlord we had two moves ago. Also, I like that since we own the house we could put in a walk-in shower and a screened porch and a gas stove. Love my gas stove.

(2) I like where we live. The greenspace behind the house, the dog park only a few blocks away, the Harps and the Walmart two minutes away -- it's a good place.

(3) I love the city, of course. Living in Fayetteville is the best.

(4) Love the public library.

(5) Love living near my kid and his husband. It's close enough that we can have dinner together whenever, and go to the grocery store together, and watch out for each others pets as needed. Very nice.

(6) Almost nothing I need is more than 10 minutes away. This is also very nice. The exception is a few things that are in Rogers (the next town north) which is 20 to 30 minutes away by interstate, depending on the traffic.

(7) I don't love the traffic, but honestly it's not that bad. Just more congested than Fort Smith, but on the other hand, in Fort Smith, we were living in Fort Smith.

(8) The weather so far has been okay. A few really hot days in the summer, one or two really cold days this winter, but okay otherwise.

(9) I *love* being retired. It helps that we have enough money -- everything is better with enough money, who knew? -- but I also like having all this leisure. I can sleep as late as I want (which turns out to be about 7:00 a.m.), I can read books all day if I want to, I can write all day if I want to. Because we have enough money, I can order out for food if I don't feel like cooking. Conversely, I can cook if I want to. For example, tonight I'm making a chicken pie.

(10) We're close enough to Crystal Bridges and to Devil's Den that we can go whenever. Though, to be fair, so far that turns out to be not at all. Maybe soon!

Shamus is 9.5 Months Old

He has moved up to his Big Boy collar, which he celebrated by chewing his old collar to shreds.

He does this Border Collie thing where he crouches and stares at me intently. Reddit (r/bordercollie) says this means he wants me to play with him, which makes sense, since he mainly does it when he wants me to go outside and throw the ball for him. Which, yeah, is all the time.

He does sleep sometimes now however.

We have convinced him (mostly) not to chase the cats.

The dog park is his favorite.

First Night of Hanukkah

The first night of Hanukkah went very well. We had deli, chocolate pie, and latkes. I managed to get out and buy the dog a toy for his present, so he's happy.

I made the latkes, as usual. 

We had a moment of silence for the dead in Australia. 

Advice for Writers

 I love this list.

My favorites: 

You do not need to write like your favorite author. You need to write like you, caffeinated and slightly unstable.

You can write the climax before you finish Act 1. You can rewrite Chapter 1 thirty times and then delete it anyway. You’re not behind, you’re in hell with the rest of us.

This Might Be Real Winter

We're having a cold spell in Arkansas -- frost on the grass at the dog park today, high of 33 tomorrow. Shamus likes the cold. It does not in the least deter him from leaping into the stream or the lake at the dog park.

The first night of Hanukkah is tomorrow. We're having the kids and Uncle Charger and maybe SIL. We ordered corned beef and pastrami from Katz's, which is crazy expensive; and with that we're having latkes and chocolate pie.

It's Shamus's first Hanukkah! And I didn't buy him a present. 

Also the kids adopted a new cat, Rosie:

She's six years old and an epic cat. Also very cuddly. They found her through a local cat cafe:

What I'm Reading Now

As always, this is what I'm reading NOT for review columns.

Kim Stanley Robinson, The Ministry for the Future

KS Robinson writes these massive SF novels that are filled with intricate, splendid, convincing worldbuilding. They don't really tap into the reader's emotions, which is a characteristic of hard science fiction, but they're interesting to read. This one is about climate change. It starts with a really grim chapter about a heat wave in India that kills very nearly everyone in the area, 20 million people, and gets more hopeful (a little more hopeful) after that. It's more or less about what we might do if we want to survive the next century. It's also the most accurate portrayal of how to change the world that I've ever read. Bit by bit, one thing and another, lose lose lose lose lose win.

It's less hopeful than it might be because I'm dubious that we will do any of this stuff. (Robinson makes it clear that we will have to do hundreds of things -- there's no silver bullet.) Instead, we will keep shoveling profit into the maws of billionaires, destroying our ecosystem so a handful of people can make a little more money. 

Fair warning: this one is massive. It took me three days to read it. (Usually I'm a book a day reader, though sometimes two days if the book is particularly long.)

Still, it was an interesting read. I wish I believed in the future Robinson shows us, that's all.

Andrew Joseph White, You Weren't Meant to Be Human

Another good but depressing book. Written by a trans author, this is SF/Horror. A possibly alien intelligence located in a bug/worm swarm recruits people in dire situations, making them members of its swarm and using them to do things. Some of the things are fairly awful. The main plot line concerns a trans man who the swarm causes to become pregnant, despite the fact that pregnancy makes the man suicidal.

It's a very grim book about what happens when people are denied rights or agency, and gives us an engaging look at what it is like to be trans or a woman or poor in our current world. (It's set in the near future, but things have just kept going the way MAGA "Christians" want them to go.) Crane, the trans man, is particularly well done. A horrific read, but worth reading if you can take it.

T. Kingfisher, What Stalks the Deep

The third in her Sworn Soldier trilogy, this one takes the gang to a coal mine in the Appalachian mountains. It's always nice to hang out with Alex Easton and Angus again. This one has a great monster, and also some really claustrophobic stuff that I had to skim through. There's one good dog and one bad, except the bad dog isn't really a dog.

A quick, enjoyable read, except for the bits where they are crawling through the mine that might collapse on them at any moment.

Weather Report, Other Report

It is foggy, damp, and cold here. I took the dog to the park at dawn and since no one was there I could let him off the leash, his favorite thing. He ran and ran and ran. There were squirrels! There were birds! Once he lost sight of me in the fog and panicked, but when I whistled he came charging back. Squirrels! Birds!

I have gotten approval on the structural edits of my third Velocity novel (Down the Core, watch for it in early 2027) and now am messing about with ideas for the fourth. I'm also reading for the next round of book reviews.

And I plan to make soda bread this morning. Retirement is a full life!

The soda bread -- with black currants

Weather Report, Bird Report, Dog

It's been very cold here lately -- sleet and freezing roads yesterday, and today sunny but 22 degrees when I took the dog to the park at dawn.

A good time was had, but when he spotted three Great Blue Herons in the stream that runs through the park he plunged into the woods along the bank for a closer look, and got hopelessly tangled. I had to wade into the brush and take him off the leash to get it untangled from the trees and liana vines and brambles and -- you guessed it -- he ran off further into the woods, trying to find the herons (who had long since flown lazily and gracefully away).

Eventually he came back, entirely unrepentant. "What a ridiculous dog you are," I said, and he wagged his entire body at me happily.