And it’s a very special weekend, which is tangentially related to our wedding–one of our friends gave us a shiny smartbox for a romantic getaway, which we booked for this weekend (the better to go around the countryside picking up lilies of the valley, the traditional gift to hand around on May Day). Destination, a very quiet place where we shall visit churches, walk in the surrounding countryside, and play boardgames (I favour Chang Cheng, a neat game of placement the H and I got for our engagement party but never really had time to try out. But we also have Atlas & Zeus, Dracula, and the perennial favourite, Settlers of Catan the Card Game).

Oh, and start planning out the novella, because I’ve finally worked out what the science fiction bit is (yes, I had a space station, but it’s always a good idea to have more worldbuilding elements to throw into the pot. Plus, it’s nice to have a space station, but I need to find out what it’s doing there and what its purpose is). Now all I need, in addition to sorting out my worldbuilding, is a decent plot (I already have a good 70% of the cast). Kind of puzzled by the novella form, I admit; I never wrote one before, so I’m unsure of how much complexity the story can bear. Guess we live and learn…

By the way, I’m giving away five copies of Harbinger of the Storm via goodreads–if you happen to be interested, you can hop on over there and check it out. It’s open worldwide.

Huge congrats to fellow AR author Lauren Beukes for winning the Clarke Award for her novel Zoo City.

And, while you’re at it, you can go read her post on Writing the Other over at the World SF blog.

Writing The Other is a sensitive topic. It should be. Not least because it’s so often been done so very, very, badly.

But the truth is that unless you’re writing autobiography, any character you write is going to be The Other.

I am not a serial killer. (Unless my multiple personalities are hiding something from me.) I am also not a 50s housewife, a parking attendant, a car-jacking reality TV star, a Ugandan email scammer, a Tokyo mecha pilot, or a future-world stubborn-as-heck gay anti-corporate activist. And even though my novelist friends Thando Mgqolozana and Zukiswa Wanner like to joke that I’m a black girl trapped in a white girl’s skin, I’m not Zoo City’s hip, fast-talking, ex-journo, ex-junkie black Joburg girl protagonist, Zinzi.

(you can also see Lauren on the Hugo Awards shortlist, where she’s up for a Campbell Award)

So, for the curious amongst us, here’s my cookie recipe (which I love to bits, because it’s not too sweet). Beware, the quantities involved are astronomical. This easily makes 30-40 cookies; my usual batch size is perhaps half of this.

And now I’ll leave you, as I’m about to try a dangerous cooking experiment–namely, replicating something I once ate in a restaurant…

So…

It was a very good Eastercon; and it was also a very frustrating one. Due to several other commitments, my roommate (the awesomely talented Rochita Loenen-Ruiz) and I arrived late on Friday evening, and as a result I ended up missing most of the action until Saturday morning (whereupon I had a brief moment for breakfast with Tricia Sullivan, Paul Cornell and Lauren Beukes, before I was whisked off for my signing, where I spent the rest of the afternoon). I watched the new Doctor Who episode, which was awesome but slightly frustrating–it’s all well and good for those who have BBC at home, but I’m going to have to wait for it to air in France or go to DVD before I can know the ending (interestingly, I prefer Matt Smith’s Doctor to Tennant’s Doctor, though Eccleston remains my favourite of those incarnations I’ve seen).

Then it was time for the BSFA Awards. As you can see, I hadn’t had much time to myself till then, so I wrote a very hasty and illegible speech on the back of a piece of paper while in the queue for Doctor Who, secure in the knowledge it wouldn’t ever be pronounced.

You can see this coming a mile off, don’t you. “The Shipmaker” won Best Short Fiction. Once I got past the OMG OMG moment, I just knew I was going to have to improvise something. I have no idea how it all went, because it’s a bit of a blur, but let me thank once again, everyone who voted in the short fiction category, the tireless people of the BSFA for organising the Awards, Paul Cornell and David Weber for presenting it to me, and Andy Cox, Andy Hedgecock, Roy Gray and the rest of the Interzone team for publishing the story in the first place. (I do have a shiny trophy, but due to various logistics problems it’s, er, temporarily elsewhere. Will take pics and display them when I have them). Major congrats as well to Paul Kincaid, Joey Hi-Fi and Ian McDonald for taking the prize in their categories; and finally, kudos to my fellow nominees, Nina Allan, Peter Watts and Neil Williamson. It was an honour to be with you guys.

Sunday, very fortunately, was quieter, allowing me time to browse in the dealers’ room, hang out with friends in the bar, and steel myself for the evening. Namely, something I had been sitting on for a couple of weeks–the Hugo nomination of “The Jaguar House, in Shadow” for Best Novelette.

The announcement is also a bit of a blur, but fortunately no speeches were involved. Very happy to see a number of friends on the ballot such as Lauren Beukes, Rachel Swirsky, Eric James Stone, Ian McDonald, and Mary Robinette Kowal. And very very happy to see Alastair Reynolds finally up for a Hugo (you’d think he’d have been nominated before, but apparently not). And also very happy to see so many women up for awards, especially in the fiction category. Though we were talking it over with the H yesterday, and we weren’t entirely sure that nominations would transcribe into wins due to the way the ballot was structured (not sure about the others, but I expect Ted Chiang to win the novella, and I also suspect that all the proponents of traditional science-driven SF–of which there are many–will vote for Ian McDonald, giving him a strong edge in terms of votes). I very much hope I’ll be proved wront there.

So, at any rate, the complete list of Hugo nominees is here; lots of good stuff to check out; and thanks to everyone who nominated me, or supported me, or cheered for me when the announcement came out. And if, you know, you happen to want Jaguar Knights to win the shiny rocket trophy, you know what to do

Other than that, it was a great but exhausting con. I did my reading (the cookies went down a treat at that one–and my deepest thanks to everyone who turned up to show support); got on a couple of last-minute panels on Monday about Race and Gender in SF and Self-Promotion for Writers; met lots of people–old friends, new acquaintances–and generally had tons of fun and many productive discussions. I’m only sorry it was so short, and that there were some people I managed to miss altogether. But hey, here’s to next year.

I’m reading Thích Nhất Hạnh’s commentary of the Lotus Sutra, and was struck by the following sentence:

“Buddhism is a living reality, and living things are always growing. A tree continually grows more branches, leaves and flowers. In order for Buddhism to stay alive, we have to allow it to develop.”

It’s about Buddhism and its different branches, but I’d be tempted to replace it by any religion. It gives… interesting results if you substitute Catholic religion here–resistance to change is one of the main things which I’m not so fond of in the current Catholic church. I recognise it’s not easy to keep the core of a religion and to allow it to move forward at the same time; but still, that quote struck me as right. Something that is widely practised and believed with fervour has to change, or it will ossify.

A thought for me to munch on, as we enter Good Friday and the final part of the leadup to Easter.

In less philosophical considerations, I’m leaving tonight for Eastercon. Hope to see some of you there. And yes, I have cookies. Chocolate is involved, too–come to the signing on Saturday, or the reading on Sunday for tasty bits…

Because, you know, I can’t get enough of it, and also because my French editor was kind enough to send me further pictures, which included the entire book jacket…

Click for further zoom (it’s a bit of a big image, sorry). As you can see, the awesome Priest of the Dead in the front has extra pyramids on the back. The leftmost item is a detachable bookmark, which is a feature of all their books: once you remove it, the inside flaps just have my bio and a longer summary than the bullet-point one at the back of the book. And you are the proud possessor of an Acatl bookmark, of course

I’m told there will be a feature on the publisher’s blog which details the process of making the cover–further info when I have it.

I feel spoiled.
(and yes, I promise I’ll stop drooling at some point, but it’s hard. Not only is it beautiful, it’s also my native language edition. Which my entire family can read, and which is going to be sold in bookshops near me. It’s a very weird thought)

Rereading A Dream of Red Mansions (紅樓夢) in a slightly different translation than my first read (first read was the Penguin edition, the new one is Foreign Press). It’s rather interesting to discover, erm, explicit passages: the fight in the clan’s school, for instance, appears to be because it’s a hotbed of hormones and boys are seeking to nab boys and/or girls, often both–which I totally missed in the first read. So either I wasn’t paying enough attention on the first read (which is possible, especially since we were in Spain at the time and I was rather under the weather); or the new translation is rather more explicit than the other one…
I’m not complaining, mind you. It’s entertaining, and I’m saving all my complaints-credits for sentences such as “By now, Jia Dairu had arrived with Jia Daixi, Jia Chi, Jia Xiao, Jia Dun, Jia She, Jia Zheng, Jia Cong, Jia Bin, Jia Heng, Jia Guang, Jia Chen, Jia Qiong, Jia Lin, Jia Qiang, Jia Chang, Jia Ling, Jia Yun, Jia Qin, Jia Zhen, Jia Pin, Jia Zao, Jia Heng, Jia Fen, Jia Fang, Jia Lan, Jia Jun, and Jia Zhi.” (it’s probably way easier in Mandarin because of the various characters, but in English or French all those syllables really look alike. Plus, I’ve got a rough idea of who some of those people are, and admit to utter cluelessness about 75% of them).

Also, it looks like they made a TV series–now if I could get my hands on a subtitled version…

I think I’m in love…

(more info here, including the French jacket copy. The artist is Larry Rostant, who did a number of other awesome things, and will also be doing the covers for the rest of the trilogy)

Vera Nazarian, author and owner of Norilana Books, is having to move cross-country after losing a years-long battle with foreclosure. Add to that her elderly mother, and Vera’s own health problems, and you can see why this isn’t exactly a bundle of fun. So, if you’ve always wanted to buy a Norilana book, now is the time. Full list here. Off-hand, there’s awesome short fiction (Sword and Sorceress, Clockwork Phoenix), and Eugie Foster’s short fiction collection), hilarious Austen/spec fic mashups (Mansfield Park and Mummies), and some very strong novels (Tanith Lee’s Birthgrave, for instance).